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sinner-as-saint · 2 years

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Professor!Steve x Student!Reader (Uni au)

Run-through: You got an A* on a paper that you worked really hard on, and Steve decides that his favourite student deserves a little treat for having earned such good grades.

Themes: professor!steve, smut, age gap, explicit language, fluff

“Come in.”

You hear him call out at the first knock on his door. You take a deep breath, calming down your nerves as much as you could before you walked in.

There he was. Majestic as always. He was sitting behind his desk as you walked in, lazily stroking his well-kept beard as he watched you. That light blue, tight button-down shirt and that expensive looking tie should be illegal on a man like him. Broad shoulders, muscular arms like he was built solely to intimidate others by being so damn perfect.

“Hi,” You kept your eyes lowered, unable to look him in the eyes. Definitely not after-

“Come here, you’re not in trouble I promise.” He spoke with a playful tone, trying to get you to stop being so nervous.

Steve had noticed the way your behaviour had changed when it came to him lately. You were always quite a shy person, but recently you’d stopped being chatty like you used to. He could never figure out why so this afternoon he decided to use the paper he’d just graded as an excuse to talk to you.

He watched how you cautiously approached his desk and took a seat. You looked everywhere else except towards him, and he didn’t like that.

“You said you wanted to talk to me concerning last week’s paper.” You spoke and finally looked up to meet his stare. Gorgeous blue eyes stared at you like they could read every single thought in your head.

Steve nodded, then said, “The paper, yes. It wasn’t an easy one but you got an A* and I must say, I’m very impressed.” He slid the stapled assignment across his desk, back to you as he spoke, “And as proud as I am regarding your performance, that’s not the only reason why I called you here.”

You slowly dragged the paper closer to you, “I don’t understand, sir.”

Steve sighed and said, “Look at me.” When you met his stare again he asked, “What’s going on? You’ve become so quiet lately. You’re working really well but you barely participate during my lectures. You always avoid talking to me. You nearly run on your way out of my classes. I can’t help but be concerned.”

His tone made your heart flutter. Soar, more like. Because the man’s voice was just as intimidating as his appearance. Smooth, deep voice. Like the kind that could calm you down but also enchant you. His words made you feel caught though.

You shook your head, “It’s… It’s nothing serious. I’m okay, I’m-,” You stopped talking the moment he stood up from his chair. You watched him as he walked around his large desk and came over to lean on the edge of the table on your side. Close to you. So close that if you leaned in just a little to the side, your shoulder would touch his thigh.

“I’ve known you for a couple of years now, I know you. And this isn’t you. You can talk to me, you know. So tell me, what is going on?” He asked, softly looking down at you.

Your heart was racing at the proximity. So much so that you couldn’t withstand it anymore, you stood up abruptly. You held the papers to your chest and said, “I’m alright, I’m okay. You, uh, you don’t have to worry, sir. I’ve got to go now. See you on Monday.” You said all that without looking him in the eyes, and right as you began walking towards the door he spoke up again.

“I didn’t ask you to leave.” He said in that authoritative ‘professor’ voice of his. He watched how you froze in place. “Lock the door and come over here. We’re not done yet.”

You took the remaining steps towards the door, locked it and then turned around to face him again. He was still leaning against the desk, one arm crossed over his chest as the other hand lazily stroked his beard.

You walked back to where you were just seconds ago. But you didn’t sit down this time, you just looked down at your shoes.

Steve reached out to gently grab your chin and force your gaze back to his. He had to refrain from caressing your lips with his thumb as he asked, “Why are you always running away from me lately? Hmm? What did I do? Was it something I said? Did I overstep a boundary?”

You were quick to say, “No, sir.” Quite the contrary actually, if anything, you did the overstepping a couple of weeks back.

Steve’s hand dropped down to the papers you still clutched to your chest. He took them from you and placed it down on the table. Next he took your bag off your shoulder and dropped it down on one of the seats before he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you a little closer to him. He parted his legs just a little so you stepped in between them.

He just held you there, looking into your eyes like he would get the answers to his questions there.

“You better tell me what’s going on before I change my mind concerning that A*,” He teased with a playful smirk on his face.

Damn him for being so damn beautiful. Steve was the kind of man who could spot a lie instantly so you could do nothing but tell him the truth. But you still stalled because you were embarrassed. “It’s… it’s stupid.” You whispered, unable to look away from his pretty eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Tell me.” He insisted.

“I…” Here goes nothing. “I had a dream… about you.” You whispered, looking down to his dark blue tie instead. You absentmindedly reached out to toy with the end of the cool, silky tie.

Steve chuckled, “You had a dream about me, or did you have a dream about us?”

You looked up at him sheepishly, “Us.” You whispered.

Steve had a smug smile on his face as he pulled you closer, your chests almost touching. You ignored the way your nipples perked up beneath your sweater. “Oh?” He teased, “Well how rude of you to not give me the details about said dream.”

Your entire face felt burning hot under his stare. “I can’t. It’s inappropriate.” You felt your walls clench around nothing down there as you said that.

“Ah,” He leaned forward just a little like he was sharing a secret. “Well, were you letting me do inappropriate things to you in the dream?” He asked.

You bit down on your lower lip nervously as you nodded.

“Oh?” Steve pretended to be shocked. “Is this why you’ve been running from me? Because you’re embarrassed that you had a scandalous dream about us?”

You nodded again.

“Hmm,” Steve pulled you even closer so he could nuzzle your cheek and whisper into your ear, “And when you woke from the dream were you… wet? And needy? Hmm? Did you touch yourself then, right before you came to attend my lecture?”

You let out a gasp at the sound of those words coming from him. Then you groaned and nodded, your cheek rubbing against his coarse beard.

Steve wasn’t having it. “I can’t hear you, baby. Speak up and tell me, did you touch your wet cunt thinking about how I was touching you in your dreams?”

You almost whined, “Yes, sir. Yes, I did.”

“I see.” He said, then pulled away to look into your eyes, “Show me then, show me how you did it.”

Your eyes widened, “I… what?” You swallowed at the sound of that request, and you could feel your clit throbbing already at the memory of that dream. “No,” You said softly, suddenly too embarrassed to function.

Steve smirked, standing up straight and turned the two of you so you now stood against the edge of his desk. “Fine then. Tell me what I did to you in the dream.”

Your lips parted in surprise. Part of you was so shy you wanted to run away. But the other part of you was craving his touch. “You, um, you touched me there.” You said, pointing downwards.

His hand reached out to grab you by the hips immediately. “Where exactly, baby? Here?” He asked, slipping his hand under your skirt and caressing your inner thighs. “Or here?” He moved his hand further up until he cupped your throbbing and wet cunt through your underwear.

You were both way past the point of no return so perhaps that’s what caused you to be bold enough to grab his hand and slide it past the waistband of your underwear so he could really feel how wet you were. “Right here.” You whispered.

Steve approved with a playful smile, “Hmm. Then what did I do? Did I make you come on my fingers?” He asked.

You nodded. And immediately, his finger moved up and down your slit quick enough to gather some of your wetness and spread it around before sliding his finger into you. Steve gave you a few seconds, gauged your reactions first before he slowly stroked along your walls.

You bit your lip as you let out a low whine. His single finger made you tremble as he lazily fucked you with it - all while staring deep into your eyes. He studied each and every inch of your face as he sped up just a little.

“That feels good, doesn’t it? What else, baby? What else did I do?” He asked, leaning in closer but not enough to kiss you. Just enough to make it impossible to focus on anything else other than him.

You gasped as you opened your mouth to talk. But he teased you by adding another finger into you, finger-fucking you with both of them as his thumb toyed with your clit. So instead of saying it, you played along and grabbed his other hand which rested at your hip and brought it up, slid it beneath your sweater until he instinctively grabbed your breast and squeezed gently.

“Did I do this to you in your dream? Did I play with your pretty tits while I made you come on my fingers, huh?” He asked, pinching your nipple before moving to the other breast.

You spoke up this time, “Yes, sir.”

Steve whispered under his breath, “Fuck me,” before he leaned in and finally pressed his lips to yours. You immediately moaned into the kiss as your hands slid into his soft hair, pulling him closer.

Steve kissed you feverishly while he finger-fucked you until your hips moved on their own; riding his fingers as you moaned louder into his mouth. You gasped and whined as he moved to kiss you along your neck.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby?” He asked, moving his fingers faster in and out of you as he sucked and bit your skin. “Gonna come all over my fingers like you did in that dream?”

“Fuck…” You whined, “Yes, yes I-,”

Your sentence ended in a cry of pleasure as you came all over his fingers, just like how he wanted. Steve kept stroking your walls as you came, making you squirm as you held on to his shoulders for balance as you caught your breath.

He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up so you looked at him. “What else did you let me do to you in that dream, huh?”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you felt his fingers pinching and teasing your nipples still. “I don’t know,” You said playfully, “Maybe I let you bend me over your desk and let you have your way with me.”

His hand moved down to your throat where he carefully wrapped his fingers around your windpipe. “Did you now?” He teased as he slid his fingers out of you before lifting the hem of your sweater up until you lifted your arms up and let him take it off your body. “Well,” He pondered as he slowly undid your bra and tossed it aside before lazily toying with your tits like he had all the time in the world, “Maybe I should, you know. After all, you earned such a good grade. Maybe you do deserve a little treat. Don’t you think so?”

Meanwhile you were a squirming, trembling mess in his grasp. All you could do was nod as he pinched your nipples before letting them go.

“Alright baby, get on top of the desk. Sit down, lean back on your elbows and put your legs up on the edge,” he waited until you did as he asked, “Just like that,” He adjusted your feet on the edge of his desk until you were shamelessly spread open just for him. “Look at you,” He said, looking down at you fondly. “So perfect for me.” He reached out to rub your clit through your underwear a few times before he began undoing his own pants.

You frowned then said, “I didn’t get to touch you.”

Steve chuckled at the slight pout on your face. “Another time, baby. I need you right now, and I know you need me too.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Not when he took his cock out and stroked it while staring at you deep in the eyes. You looked down for a moment, and you let out an instinctive whine at the sight of his hand wrapped around his cock.

“Please…” You groaned, scooting your butt closer to the edge, desperately trying to get closer to him.

Steve smirked as he stepped closer, pressed up against you, pulled your underwear to the side and slid the head of his cock up and down your wet slit. “Yeah? You’re willing to beg for it, baby?”

You could barely form a coherent sentence in your head. “Sir… please, please I-,”

He cut you off by pushing his cock inside of you. Slowly, carefully stretching you out. “Oh fuck….” He whispered under his breath as he filled you up. “You okay there, baby?” He asked, studying the way your face morphed into a frown of pleasure.

All you could do was nod as you looked up at him with nothing but lust in your eyes.

Steve smiled before he grabbed your thighs and pushed them further apart so he could fuck you deeper. You moaned shamelessly as he fucked you like an animal; nice and deep.

“Oh…” You gasped, “You feel so good…” You whimpered.

“Better than in your dreams?” He teased.

You nodded, “So much better.”

He fucked deeper into you, pounding into you relentlessly as he grabbed you by the neck. “Your greedy little cunt feels so good, baby,” He whispered, squeezing your throat just enough to remind you to keep your eyes on him. “Tell me how good I feel inside you, baby.”

“Fuck…” You whined as you felt yourself getting so close as he fucked you aggressively. “So good… you feel so fucking good,” You whined, your mind already delirious, “Please don’t stop.” You felt a tear slip out of the corner of your eye as you felt the pressure in between your legs getting too much to bear.

“Never, baby.” Steve promised. “I’ll make sure to always keep you well fucked.” He punctuated each of his words with a thrust in and out of you. He groaned as your walls clenched violently around him. “Fuck,” He growled, “Come for me, baby. Come all over this cock. It’s all yours, you can have it whenever you fucking want angel, now come on. Come for me…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said because you were long gone - lust drunk and allowing your orgasm to wash over you. You came with a loud cry of his name.

Steve followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thighs so tightly that his fingers would surely leave a bruise behind as memory.

You fell back on top of his desk, unable to hold yourself up as you caught your breath. He leaned down, still buried inside you, and kissed your lips gently. His hands massaged and caressed your thighs lazily.

“You okay, baby?” He asked, kissed up your cheek and over your closed eyelids. “You were so good to me. My perfect angel.” He whispered, kissing you all over your face. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.”

You sighed, smiling faintly as you finally opened your eyes and looked up at him. Steve looked down at you with glazed eyes and swollen lips. “Hi,” You whispered and reached out to slowly caress his cheek.

He smiled, gently leaning into your touch. “You okay?” He asked again.

You nodded, then smirked and playfully asked, “So do I get my A* now, sir?”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #professor!steve

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

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Hi I’m about to go to sleep and I was just imagining going to bed and then waking up in the middle of the night bc corpse is finally coming to bed too and then you cuddle up to him and he says something that you don’t really hear bc you’re sleepy but you feel the rumble of his chest and it just makes you smile and feel all comfy and you sleep so ✨ good ✨ after that. Anyway felt the need to share that with you bc I wish I had that in my life hahaha. I hope you’re having a good day 🖤

i know ur probably just waking up bc i’m about to finally fall asleep but anyway here u go

GOODNIGHT EVERYONE AND PLS ENJOY

_______________________________

stress and refresh

being a uni student had given you many life skills. but one you didn’t intend to pick up was becoming the type of person who would act the same no matter how many hours of sleep you’d gotten. you on two hours? same as you with eleven hours. and any amount in between.

there was a few exceptions to the skill. for example, if it was a busy time for assessments and you’d had a fair few nights of very little sleep all in a row, you’d need to catch up on all those missed hours, eventually. and usually that happened on the fourth or fifth night.

and when the day came this time around, you’d submitted yet another assignment and didn’t have any due for a few weeks so you were going to celebrate. by crashing hard and treating yourself to that deep sleep your body and mind so desperately craved.

but corpse had started to really worry about you two days ago.

“you’ve barely eaten anything.” him expressing concern had lead to the both of you firing quick, frustrated words to each other.

“i’ll eat when i’m done. i’m not hungry right now.” and you weren’t, it was a bad habit, but when you found yourself under an extreme amount of stress or pressure, you didn’t eat as you normally did.

“you’ve been doing those assignments for days.”

“i have a lot due right now, i've told you this already.”

“please, just take a break.” he was pushing you, he was aware of it, but he wanted you to take even just ten minutes to relax.

“i can’t.”

“you can, let’s go get dinner.”

“i’m telling you, i really can’t.”

“(y/n)-”

“fucking hell, corpse, i told you i fucking can’t!” you snapped at him and for what felt like first time, you looked up from your laptop screen and to your boyfriend.

both of you displayed frowns on your faces, challenging each other to say something else. and corpse made a judgement call then. he knew if he stayed there and argued with you, you’d fight back with just as much fire as he would. but he also knew you had enough on your mind, so he left it. but he definitely slammed the door of his computer room on purpose, to which you’d pick up a pen and peg it at the closed door.

he didn’t really say anything else over the next couple of days. but his worrying over you was digging at him more and more. you’d still barely eaten anything, in fact, the only things he’d seen you consume was painkillers to mask the headache he knew you must’ve felt from staring at your laptop screen for days on end and a carrot at 3am when he’d come to get a drink of water. the bags under your eyes had become so prominent from the lack of sleep. and you’d been crashing out on the couch for the one or two hours you did manage to fall asleep.

so when he found you on that fifth night, sound asleep in bed after his shower, a weight lifted from his chest. corpse would release a very deep sigh, feeling the worry and tension leaving him. how pleased he was to see you looking so peaceful. he took the few steps to reach the bed and sat down, taking a moment to look over your features.

his finger first brushed some of your hair behind your ear so he could get a better look at you. your hair was no longer tied back in the bun you’d had in this past week to keep it from annoying you as you typed. next he trailed his touch down your forehead and between your relaxed eyebrows. happy that no longer were they were furrowed in a mix of concentration and stress. and following down the bridge of your nose, his finger reached your mouth and ever so gently ran around your slightly parted lips where a slow, deep breath was being released from. he was glad your jaw was no longer clenched with frustration at your uni work. but your lips were chapped, you had a habit of chewing on them too much when you felt stressed and it seemed you’d really done a number on them after this hell week you’d had. he made a mental note to pick up a new chapstick for you whenever he got make up wipes again.

overall, he was so content with seeing you so peaceful. you looked so soft, so at ease and it brought him relaxation. he knew you were in such a deep sleep already, but still as he slipped into bed beside you, he tried to be cautious, not wanting to wake you. you were so warm beneath the blanket, he pulled you towards the centre of the bed as he scooted in, wanting to be close to you. you stirred a little then.

“corpse?” you’d mumble, caught in between a dreamland and reality.

“yeah, just me, baby.” he’d answer you, his arms feeling so comforting as they surrounded you.

“‘m really sorry 'bout the other day.” you’d apologise as your head nestled into his chest.

“it’s okay,” and he’d mean it sincerely. giving you a goodnight kiss on your forehead. “go back to sleep, baby.”

but you kind of already had, you hadn’t even really woken up properly because of how exhausted you were. all you knew is you were so happy to be in bed with your lover after such a draining time, knowing this familiar bubble with corpse was going to give you the refresh you needed.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #writing #mine #request #Anonymous #answered

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

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The Night Shift part 11 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

WC: 3.3k

AN: Yall I'm so sorry this took ages to be updated, my laptop screen broke and the repair place had to wait over a week for a new one, I hope the end of this part makes up for it <3 Parts will also be slower to come out as I'm starting my next semester of uni on Monday and that's going to take up a large chunk of my time, but I'm still going to try and put out a new part at least once a week

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Part 1 Part 12 (coming soon) Masterlist

Friday arrived far too quickly for Frankie’s liking. So quickly he had gotten himself into a routine of being with you, and it felt like it was being ripped away from him. Of course, he knew that it would happen, he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking it wouldn’t, but still . . . still he had grown so used to your presence that when it was finally time to “get your shit from that ugly ass motherfucker” (Will’s words, not his), he felt almost depressed.

You were perched on his couch when he woke up late Friday morning, a cup of steaming coffee clutched in your hand, your gaze fixed absently on a point on the wall. He called your name gently, not wanting to scare you. You blinked a couple times, as if coming out of a trance. He knew the look well.

“Didn’t sleep?” he poured himself a cup and sat down next to you. You shook your head.

“Not great. I think an hour, maybe. But like, really shitty sleep.”

“Not fully asleep but not fully awake?” Frankie suggested, having become very accustomed to the feeling during his military time. You nodded, giving him a tired smile. He understood your exhaustion. You had spent every waking moment stressed about the move, online shopping to replace the things that you were leaving at Kurt’s, and then stressing some more. You had picked up the keys on Wednesday and Frankie had gone with you to check the place out.

It was a bright, airy place, seven floors up with huge windows and a tiny balcony off the living area. Frankie had noticed your eyes shining as you took it all in, almost like you couldn’t believe it was yours. You had wiped away a tear, taking in the view of the lake by the apartment complex.

Frankie had come with his measuring tape and notebook from his mechanic days. He measured each room, each alcove where a piece of furniture would sit, and wrote them down diligently with a messy scrawl on a page labelled with your name.

When you had gotten back to his place, you set to work writing down a list of what was yours and what you needed to replace. At the top of that list was a bed, heavily underlined and circled.

“The bed’s mine, technically,” you explained as you clicked on a display photo of a wrought iron bed frame, “but he can keep it. I want a fresh start, and I think I need a new bed to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Frankie said sitting down beside you, “is that the one you’re going with?”

You had nodded, clicking add to cart. The store had next day delivery, and for a small fee would even build the bed for you. You opted for this, despite Frankie’s protests.

“Please, you’re doing so much already, and putting my whole bed together for me . . . it feels like a very unfair trade,” you told him firmly. Once again, your stubbornness had won over. Frankie, rather grudgingly, had to admit to himself that the delivery people were much quicker than he would’ve been at assembling the bed frame, especially after he had taken a quick look at the instructions.

He wasn’t about to tell you that though.

It was almost midday when a knock sounded on his door, followed by the three men he called brothers piling into his kitchen. You emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and a shy smile on your face. It struck Frankie that this was the first time you were meeting these guys, truly meeting them without the inclusion of alcohol.

“You’re all really excellent for helping me with this,” you said fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. You had opted for long sleeves throughout the whole week. “Sorry you have to give up your Friday for this.”

Benny was the first one to make a move. He strode forward and enveloped you in a tight hug. Frankie could see the initial shock on your face before it was replaced by a hesitant kind of happiness.

“You like Taylor Swift?” he asked, and you nodded. Benny craned his neck to look at Frankie. “She’s riding with me, if that’s okay?” he turned back to you and you nodded again. Benny grinned and whispered something in your ear, causing you to snort out a laugh.

Santi stood beside Frankie and pressed an envelope into his hands.

“The photo,” he explained. “Again, remember I have several copies, so if you plan on destroying this one, imagine it like a hydra.” Frankie rolled his eyes and put the envelope in his back pocket. You were too busy chatting with Benny and Will to notice, and he was glad. He wanted to surprise you with the photo when you needed it.

Benny and Will had taken a particular soft spot for you since Frankie gave them the bare-bones rundown of how Kurt had treated you. Frankie noticed it now, in how Will stood like your own personal bodyguard, in how Benny had slung his arm around your shoulders, like you were old friends. Frankie felt the briefest flash of jealousy before he stamped it down. Just because he couldn’t – wouldn’t – touch you, didn’t mean no one else could.

“Quit staring Fish, you look like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes turn to hearts,” Santi muttered, elbowing Frankie in the ribs. Frankie elbowed him back, annoyed.

“Alright, gang! Let’s get this show on the road!” Will clapped his hands together. Benny raised an incredulous brow at his brother.

“What are you, fifty?” He turned to you, linking his arm through yours. “Don’t worry, Fish, I’ll drive extra carefully.”

Frankie felt envious of Benny then, even though he had basically had a week straight with you. But knowing it was coming to an end, that tonight you’d be sleeping at your own place, instead of just down the hall. Well, it made him almost sad. He pushed that aside though and forced himself to be happy for you.

As he drove to your old apartment, everyone else following behind, he focused a little too hard on the radio, just to give his mind something to do. A newsreader was talking about how a quick-thinking pilot had landed a plane in a field after something went horrifically wrong with the engines. Zero casualties, minor injuries. People were already calling for the pilot to be given a medal.

Maybe I should renew my licence, Frankie thought. He didn’t want to be a commercial pilot, or a hero of any kind, although the uniforms were nice. But it couldn’t hurt to have it.

He pulled up outside the building, gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was it.

Will and Santi parked behind him, but Benny’s ridiculously lifted pickup was nowhere to be seen. Frankie squinted towards the end of the street, knowing he couldn’t have gotten lost. He had you with him.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of you. “Where the fuck are they?” Frankie grumbled, now worried that you and Benny had gotten into a car accident. He trusted him, but Benny was the worst driver of all of them. He pulled out his phone to text you but was interrupted.

“That’s his truck,” Will said, pointing to the end of the street, where Benny’s truck had just pulled in. The sound of heavy bass reached them before the truck did. As Benny pulled up outside the apartment, Frankie recognised the song as Gimme More by Britney Spears.

“Sorry we’re late,” you called, clambering out of the truck, a tall plastic cup in your hand. “We stopped for frappes.” Benny sipped innocently at his, giving Frankie a look that said he needed to speak with him.

“Where’s my fuckin’ frappe,” Santi grumbled, looking envious. Benny grinned and handed his over to Santi for a sip.

You stood, looking up at the building, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Guess we better go up. I sent him a text telling him I was doing this today, but he didn’t reply, so I don’t know if he’ll be here.”

“Want us to jump him if he is?” Benny offered, but you shook your head.

“Not right away,” you said, “but if he starts up maybe slap him around a little.” Frankie knew you were joking, but the look in your eyes was one of fear. He took your hand gently and lowered his head to talk to you.

“You can wait out here if you want,” he murmured, “we’ve got the list of what we need to get.” You squeezed his hand and shook your head. Yours was cold and slightly clammy in his own, but he didn’t mind.

“No, I need to do this.” You said. Frankie nodded, understanding. You didn’t need to explain the nitty gritty of your reasoning, all he needed was for you to know that you had him, in whatever way you needed.

You kept a firm grip on his hand as you lead the way upstairs to your old apartment, only letting go when you stood outside the front door, fumbling in your bag for your keys.

At first, the apartment seemed empty of life. All the lights were off, the curtains closed, and the place was eerily silent. You stepped over the threshold, followed by the rest of the boys, who immediately got to work.

As it turned out, Kurt wasn’t there. He remained gone for a good half hour while the boys carried your heavier shit down to their trucks. You set to work stuffing the rest of your clothes into plastic trash bags you had picked up from the grocery store.

Benny joined Frankie in carrying a loveseat downstairs.

“Fish, I need to tell ya,” Benny started, grunting as they made a turn. “She’s as into you as you are her.” Frankie shook his head.

“Don’t do this, man.”

“I’m being serious. I talked to her in the truck. She didn’t say it outright, but you should’a seen the look on her face when I talked about you.” Benny waggled his eyebrows. “And her friend Sara agrees, she’s ‘smitten’ with you. Whatever the fuck smitten means. If you want my advice-”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“-Go for it. Tonight, once we’re all gone. Shoot your shot my guy. Don’t waste anymore fucking time. Sara said she wasn’t even sad about the breakup, like she’s been checked out mentally for months now.”

“Wait, did Sara tell you about me punching Kurt?”

“All I’m saying is, she likes you a lot, you like her a lot, don’t waste this.” Frankie mulled over what Benny was saying. There had been more than a few moments that week when he had spied you looking at him and wondered . . . but each time he had pushed the thought out his head. Old insecurities, respect for you, held him back.

Historically, Frankie had never been very good at telling when someone was into him. He could be literally balls deep and he’d still be questioning it. Even sometimes with Portia, he’d wonder if she really felt the same way he did. Santi, who knew Frankie as a kid, chalked it up to Frankie having a rough go of puberty, not growing into his features until almost the end of high school. By then, whenever someone had showed even a slight bit of interest, Frankie had dismissed it as a cruel joke. Unfortunately, those insecurities had followed him deep into adulthood.

The mood in the apartment had become relaxed, all the heavier stuff, like your couch, TV, furniture, and fridge had been taken care of, and now all that was left was to gather all the small shit. Frankie found you in the bathroom, unscrewing the shower head. You tossed it into a box filled with other bathroom items, the loud clang making him grimace. He opened his mouth to speak to you when yelling from the front room interrupted him.

Your face fell instantly, going from focused to almost afraid. Your eyes met Frankie’s own, and he reached out to touch your arm. It’s okay the touch said, he can’t do anything to you. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and walked out with Frankie to the commotion.

Kurt was being held back with a single hand on his chest by a bored looking Will, screaming a string of expletives and struggling to land any kind of hit on Will, Santi stood behind Kurt, ready to jump in if needed. Benny was hunched over, clutching his sides in laughter. Kurt finally caught sight of you, standing a little in front of Frankie.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” His tone made you wince slightly, but Frankie was proud of the way you didn’t shrink away.

“I told you this was happening today, Kurtis, it was your choice to come back while we were here,” you said calmly.

“You’re taking all my shit!”

“I paid for every single thing I’m taking,” you said. “It’s not my fault you never put anything of monetary value into this place.” You stepped forward, so you were facing Kurt head on, but still behind Will. “You need to calm down, you’re acting like a fucking child.”

“I’M ACTING LIKE A CHILD?”

“Yes. You are. You’ve acted like one almost our entire relationship. So you can either calm down, leave and come back later, or my friends will force you to calm down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Kurt spat.

“Yes. You’ve already been smacked down before, any one of these guys would love to be the one to do it again.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try!” Kurt pivoted and lunged at Benny. Big mistake. With a simple, yet effective, punch to the head, Kurt was out cold on the floor. Benny looked up, almost apologetic. You grinned at him, silent laughter shaking your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to hit that hard,” Benny said, flexing his fist. “But I also did.”

Santi dragged Kurt’s unconscious body to the now empty living room, carefully posing him so he was curled in the foetal position, sucking on his thumb.

“He actually arrived at the perfect time,” you said to Frankie, standing back beside him. “Cause we’re done here.”

“We’ve got everything?” Santi called, overhearing you. You nodded.

“We’re finally done here.”

~*~

Frankie was glad you had decided to ride with him back to your new place. You were buzzing with a new energy, unable to keep a nervous grin off your face. You didn’t speak on the drive to your new place, but Frankie hoped he wasn’t reading into how much closer you sat, your thighs almost brushing his. Benny had gotten into his head, he knew, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation.

You were the most beautiful person he had met, both inside and out, and the very idea that you could like him the way he liked you . . . well fuck, it didn’t seem feasible. But then he thought back to the previous week spent with you, and maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea after all.

He pulled up at your new building, parking in the spot designated for you. You turned to him, unlatching your seatbelt as you did.

“Frankie . . .” you started, then leant over and pulled him into a tight hug. Frankie felt like everything you wanted to say was in that hug. You pulled back slightly, so your faces were almost touching. He could’ve done it then, he fucking should have done it. Crossed that miniscule amount of space between you. But then the moment passed, and you pulled away entirely.

You climbed out of the truck, moving to the back to grab some of the garbage bags that held the smaller stuff. Frankie’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, a message from Will in the group chat.

Ironhead: Pussy

Frankie turned and saw Will staring at him. Fuck offhe mouthed. Will flipped him off with a grin. The effort of getting all your stuff up to your new place was considerably easier than it had been the first time around. For one, your new place had an elevator. So even though they had to take turns using it, it was worlds above struggling up seven flights of stairs. The mood was also improved by the fact Will had knocked Kurt out cold. Frankie had begun to wonder if that had become the main highlight of your day.

It was well into the night by the time everything was in its new place. Benny and Will flopped down onto your loveseat, drinking beers that you had kept in an ice chest you had brought in yesterday just for this. You sat on the floor, drinking a fruity vodka thing that Frankie thought looked and smelt like a melted popsicle. The balcony door was open, a breeze that held the promise of summer drifted through.

“Where’s Santi?” You asked looking around.

“He had to get something from the truck,” Will said. As if on cue, which if Frankie knew these boys as well as he did, it was, Santi burst through the door, one arm stretched wide, the other behind his back.

“My dearest,” Santi began, and Frankie groaned inwardly, “over this past day, the gentlemen and I have grown quite fond of you.” What is this, regency England? Frankie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “And as such, we wanted to present you with a housewarming gift.” With that, he whipped his arm around and held out a vase of sunflowers. Your face softened, then broke into a grin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you pushed yourself up and pulled Santi into a hug, motioning for Will and Benny to join. You hugged the three men as tight as you could, smiling at Frankie over the tops of their shoulders. Frankie smiled back, raising his beer in a silent toast.

You placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, facing them toward the window. It was just past ten when the three boys left, Benny carrying the ice chest along with the promise to bring it back as soon as he could. It seemed like it was only moments before only you and Frankie remained.

Frankie’s phone buzzed.

Benny: Don’t fuck this up.

Frankie saw you move outside onto the balcony, leaning against the railing, silhouetted by silver moonlight, your face turned towards the breeze that coasted off the lake. Everyone else was gone, and he wondered if he didn’t take this chance, would he ever?

He moved to stand next to you, standing so close your arms were touching. His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. He murmured your name.

“Frankie,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of his beating heart. Before he could stop himself, chicken out like he had before, he closed the distance between you. One hand cupping your warm cheek, the other encircling your waist, he tilted his head down until his lips met yours.

It was everything.

Your lips were soft against his, hesitant at first, but then you were wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. You tasted like candy and those sugary drinks you insisted on bringing. Your touch was like tiny jolts of electricity shooting down his spine.

Fuck.

His tongue darted against your bottom lip, and you let him in almost hungrily. Frankie deepened the kiss, wondering just why the everloving fuck he waited this long.

He whispered your name, the word like poetry on his lips. You were poetry, you were art, you were every beautiful thing wrapped up into one person. He was in love with you.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki @procrastinationstationnation

#the night shift #frankie catfish morales #frankie x reader #reader x frankie morales #triple frontier #also i really rec you listen to like real people do at the end of this part it was very much the inspo for it #also happy birthday alexa i hope this makes your day a bit better lovely

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kookingtae · 3 years

Text

the equation of love (pt. 10)

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt. 10

professor yoongi x uni student reader

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→word count: 10.5k

→a/n: alternatively: fuck it, it’s been five years and this wip has been staring at me for three of them, so im just gonna post it. i have not read this over since 2018, so pls dont judge me too harshly hhsdg it’s unedited and probably a bit cringy, but then again what ch of teol isnt? this is NOT all that i have planned for the series, but i figured something is better than nothing, right? and perhaps the saying better later than never applies here, too. maybe one day i’ll finally get around to finishing it (by then im sure no one will even be around to remember what teol is lmao) but until then, enjoy what ive been sitting on! and as always, if you’re still here, thank you for your endless patience and support with this series <3

→another a/n: after this will probably be an epilogue!

→tw: mentions of blackmail, r*pe and sexual assault (we mostly just get closure on the whole professor lee & jun situation!!)

→warning: this chapter is not a happy ending, but it’s not necessarily a BAD one either, so for those who don’t like to finish on an unhappy note, it’s up to you on whether you’d like to read it or wait for the epilogue to be posted!

Running water.

It was such a simple yet fascinating concept—atoms and molecules coming together to form the only substance on earth that has a natural state in all forms, while having the power to kill in three different ways. Solid, by hypothermia; liquid, by drowning; gas, by suffocation. This substance can take three different forms, yet it's most commonly a liquid, covering nearly 71% of the world with translucent bodies of water. Oceans, ponds, lakes—though the most enchanting of them all were rivers. They were always moving, crashing beyond rocks and bustling with the flow of the current and gravitational pull of the earth. Rivers were passionate, and strong, and no matter how hard one tried they couldn't break the whipping tide that was pushing against them. Nothing could cause the powerful force to falter.

But, like most things, even rivers must come to an end. The current stops flowing, and the waves stop breaking around the jagged rocks, and the powerful force that seemed it would never end dulls to a still, calm lull, as if the river was nothing more than a brief yet raging storm. All the passion, all the fight—over in a blink of an eye, left to dissipate into the mysteries of the vast ocean.

Staring down at the picture on the cell phone screen in front of me was like getting pulled by the current of a river; down, down, down I flowed until there was no river left around me and I was left stranded in the middle of the sea. Yoongi and I were once raging, and passionate, and ready to fight against anyone who tried to tear us down, but now the fight was over. We had been dragged too far, fading into a body of water that was not our own. This was bigger than us.

Yes, like the flow of a river, all things must come to an end.

"That's it," Yoongi gritted his teeth, and I felt the dip of the mattress beneath me as he rose to his feet in anger.

"Yoongi," I called his name in a warning tone, warily standing up from the bed and watching him move around the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm over it," he said, hastily throwing the first articles of clothing he could grab from his drawers over his body. "I'm done dealing with all of this, Y/N! I'm going up to the school."

Despite the flare of determination that sparked in my heart at his words, his rage seeming to radiate off of him and onto me as well, I couldn't help the trepidation that I was also filled with; Yoongi didn't have a history of making rational decisions out of anger.

"Don't you think you should calm down first?" I offered, trying my best to match his pace around the room.

"No!" Yoongi suddenly skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wild and crazed. "I'm going to find her and I'm going to fucking kill her!"

I could only stand with a gaping mouth and watch as he stormed out of the room, leaving me with no choice but to pull on my old clothes and chase his stomping foot steps. He grabbed his keys before storming out of the apartment, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot. I tried to ignore the blindingly bright sunlight as I squinted my eyes and continued after him.

"Follow me up to the school," Yoongi barked as he hopped into his car.

"Yoongi–" I started, but my consoling voice was cut off by the slam of his door. I frowned, scrambling to unlock my vehicle as his engine roared to life.

The drive to the university was a nerve-wracking one. I kept a watchful eye on Yoongi to make sure he wasn't speeding or swerving all over the road; they say you're not supposed to operate a vehicle while you're upset. Though it would seem my efforts were futile, because he did in fact speed and swerve, and all I could do was frown and try to keep up.

It wasn't that I wasn't angered by Professor Lee; I was furious, rage and disgust and frustration all stewing inside of me like a pot of water that was ready to boil over. But I just couldn't help but worry for Yoongi. I had always been the non-confrontational type, always hoping that with a little time things would get better if they were ignored long enough. But it would seem that my method was proven inefficient today, because as much as I had tried to ignore her antics, that wicked woman wouldn't stop at anything to make sure Yoongi and I were properly dragged through the mud and going down like a ship engulfed in flames. Yet as much as that angered me, I couldn't bare the thought of the turmoil it was causing Yoongi. I didn't know when I had started casting my own feelings aside and putting his above—it was a gradual thing rather than one, defining moment—but it was only another factor that proved how much I actually loved this man. And that very thought instilled a fear that shook me to the very bone.

We had a lot more to lose now than just his job and my education. We could be losing us. And that was more important now than it had ever been before.

Once we arrived at the university there were a lot of screeching brakes, messy parking and fumbling hands as I scrambled to catch up to his looming figure that seemed to stalk towards the building at an unnatural pace. The pounding of my heavy heartbeat was what drove me forward, anxiety rising with each quickened step that I took.

"Yoongi!" I yelled once I had lessened the distance between us, now dead center on the campus sidewalk. "Yoongi, wait!"

All of a sudden he whirled around, his abrupt halt causing me to crash straight into his chest. I let out a yelp in surprise, eyes wide and ready to interrogate him, before I felt the smooth curvature of his palms on either side of my face as he tilted my head up to his and slammed his mouth onto mine.

The world stopped spinning for a moment, everything around me fading into the motions of his plush skin, his soft lips exploding with flavor and spilling over my tastebuds, satisfying my thirst in a way that no water ever could. I didn't even question it for a second before I was melting into him, quite literally becoming putty in his hands as the rest of the world instantaneously escaped my mind.

It's funny the way that worked—the way he was able to completely erase everything that had once existed in the blink of an eye, just by his simple touch. Whether it was magic, or I was just that fucking whipped, I didn't know. But either way, I didn't possess the power to stop it even if I wanted to.

When Yoongi finally broke away, he was breathing heavily, his breath fanning across my face in cool puffs of air. "I don't care what anyone thinks anymore," he spoke onto my lips, his forehead pressing against mine with a firm force. "Let them see. The only thing I care about is you."

It was then that I was suddenly aware of our surroundings, the reality of our world crashing down around me as I glanced around at all the eyes watching us. It varied; there were those choosing to spare us a glance as they walked to and from their classes, those who stalled their current actions to lift their heads to us not once, not twice, but three times, and then there were those who stopped altogether, their widened eyes and slackened jaws dead giveaways that they knew exactly who Yoongi was: Professor Min, Algebra 101 instructor.

A stroke of his thumb across my cheek brought my attention back to him; I stared up into his eyes, the desperate look in them captivating me and making it impossible to look away. His chest was rising and falling beneath his shirt, his fingers were grappling at my face as he brushed my wisps of hair out of the way, silently begging me to understand, to agree with him.

And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.

My lungs were filled with a breath of newfound determination, dazed and driven by Yoongi's words and embrace. "I love you," I spoke with conviction, caressing the nape of his neck as if to give him more reassurance. "Let's go.”

With that I grabbed his hand, holding my head high for the rest of the campus to see as I started up Yoongi's stride towards the school's building. He was right beside me, weaving his fingers through mine and giving my hand an extra squeeze as if to say that he was here, that he was proud to let the world know that I was his and he was mine, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

We were going to take down Professor Lee.

The seminar room was empty of students when we stormed in. Seats were placed throughout the floor, papers were scattered on the desks, and Professor Lee was at the front of the room, fiddling with the cords from the projector screen.

At the sound of the door opening, her head snapped up. "Well well well, look what we have here," she smirked when she saw us, making no plans to move as she saw me marching over to her. "You know, I really don't think–"

Slap!

The impact of my palm to her face cut off her words, skin on skin contact crackling through the room and echoing into a deafening silence.

Professor Lee gasped, immediately grasping where a red mark was now forming on her cheek before looking up at me with wild eyes. "You just slapped me!" She cried in disbelief.

"You're damn right I did," I gritted my teeth, taking a threatening step towards her and raising my palm. "Want me to do it again?"

It was then that I felt Yoongi's hand on my back, the feeling having an instant calming effect over my senses whether he wanted it to or not. I sighed before visibly relaxing and lowering my hand.

"You're barbaric!" Professor Lee was foaming at the mouth, still holding her face with a slack jaw. "Are you forgetting that I'm a professor? When Dr. Kim finds out about this, I swear he'll–"

"Tell him!" I roared as loud as my vocal chords would let me. "Tell whoever, tell the whole world, I don't fucking care! I'm done with your bullshit, you selfish psychotic witch!"

With that I gave her one final shove against her shoulders, and when both of her hands flew out to grab ahold her surroundings in an effort to keep from falling over, I planted another slap right across her face. The impact stung my hand, but I didn't care. Seeing Professor Lee stumble through the air was worth it.

"Baby," Yoongi spoke in a gentle yet warning tone next to me, and I had almost forgotten he was there until I felt his grip slightly tighten around my waist. It was a comforting hold, as if to say he completely trusted and supported whatever I chose to do in this situation, but still a protective hold nonetheless. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get myself hurt.

"You know, what is your problem, exactly?" I tilted my head at her as she struggled to get her bearings straight. "Is there an actual reason you're doing all of this, or are you just mentally insane?"

"It–it's not right!" Professor Lee stuttered with wide eyes, raising a shaky finger to point at me and Yoongi. "Your relationship, it's–"

"Oh cut the bullshit, Sara," Yoongi let out a sound of disgust from beside me. "We all know that's not why."

"I... I..." she stumbled for words, wide eyes glancing back and forth between the two of us. "Who do you guys think you are? You can't just storm in here and start attacking me–"

I took a menacing step forward, pure rage making up for what I lacked in intimidation. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I fumed, reaching out to grab her again.

"No, please!" She suddenly cowered before I could get to her, shielding her head away from me with her arms. "I—Yoongi, I'm in love with you!"

Her confession sent me reeling backwards in a downwards spiral, my body instantly going limp as I watched her with a dumbfounded expression. A vast silence echoed throughout the room that could be cut with a knife before she finally spoke again.

"Ever since you started working here, I knew you were the one. I just knew it." Her voice was sad, exhausted now, and a look of defeat washed over her features.

"What?" Yoongi gaped in disbelief. "Sara, that was two years ago!"

"I know!" She spat harshly. "You don't think I know that? For two years, I had to deal with this silly crush I had on you. I had to spend every day with you, watching it bloom into love overtime, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"You could've just told me!" Yoongi exclaimed as if that was the obvious answer.

Professor Lee snorted humorlessly. "Yeah, and be made a fool of? No thanks." She lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Sara, we're grown adults. You could've acted like one and fucking said something to me about it, made a move, anything but drag my career under the bus!" Yoongi's voice was strained now, his eyes wide as if silently begging her to understand him while he was equally trying to understand her.

"I was going to!" She lashed out again while whipping her head up towards him. "I was working up the courage to ask you out on a date, and then I see that fucking slut on your lap and I–"

"Don't you dare call Y/N that," Yoongi suddenly growled, pushing past me and stepping towards her intimidatingly. "One more thing out of your mouth about her and I swear to god I will kill you right here, right now."

My breath hitched in my throat at his threat and I couldn't help but weave my arm around his to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers and squeezing tightly. He gripped mine back even tighter, as if he was desperately trying to latch onto whatever calming effect I seemed to have over him.

Professor Lee swallowed, choosing to stay silent and watch him carefully as jagged breaths rose and fell from her chest. "The point is," she continued on, "I saw you with someone else—someone who wasn't me. And that completely tore my heart to shreds."

"So the only solution is to ruin our lives," I chimed in sarcastically.

"I may not have gone about it the best way," she quickly gritted her teeth and shot me a glare before turning her attention back to Yoongi, "but I had to act on instinct. I still wanted to be with you, so I figured that maybe if I split the two of you up, you would have no one else to turn to but me."

Yoongi just stared at her, his face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Do you know how sick and twisted that is?" He asked.

"All I ever wanted was to be with you, Yoongi," she pleaded, her tone vulnerable now as she took a tentative step towards him and started to raise her hand up to caress his cheek. "I still do. It's not too late; we can leave now, just you and me and forget this whole thing–"

"Don't fucking touch me," he knocked her hand away with his forearm just before it could reach his face. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're even crazier than I thought." He then stepped back to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me securely into his side. "I'm in love with Y/N, and I don't give a shit what rumors you or anyone else wants to spread about it. You're fucking pathetic."

At that moment there was the sound of a door bursting open, causing the three of us to turn our attention to the entrance of the room. There, standing in the doorway, was Dr. Kim.

The sight of him immediately deflated the elation I was feeling from Yoongi's words, instantly replacing them with a sense of anxiety and fear that lodged its way into my throat until I was sure I would die from suffocation. This was it; according to the text from Professor Lee, he had already seen the picture of me and Yoongi kissing. This was the moment that would decide our future forever.

I just hoped we had enough evidence against Professor Lee for him to take our side.

"So let me get this straight." Dr. Kim folded his hands on the dark oak wood of his office desk. "Professor Min and Y/N had relations before Y/N became a student here, while Yoongi was unaware of her age?"

"Yes sir," Yoongi nodded his head in assurance.

"And then you continued your relationship, even after finding out that she was your student."

"He didn't at first," I interjected in hopes of getting some of the heat off of Yoongi. "He tried to call it off, but I kept pushing it. The reason we got back together during school was my fault, not his."

Yoongi's eyes met mine from the chair next to me, his gaze seeming to hold the words that silently spoke that's not true, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. In actuality, he had been the one to give me after-school tutoring on that Saturday during the homecoming football game, not I. He had been the one to kiss me first that day. But there was no way in hell I would ever tell that to the dean.

"I don't care whose fault it is; all that matters is that it happened," Dr. Kim frowned. "And it's still happening if I'm not mistaken, correct?"

"I... um," my eyes flickered to Yoongi, every fiber of my being starting to fill with panic. Shit, we should've discussed this beforehand. I wasn't going to willingly rat Yoongi out, no matter how many times he's said he didn't care anymore if people knew about us.

Suddenly I felt the warm, soft sensation of skin wrapping around the curvature of my hand that was resting atop the wooden armrest. "Yes, it's still happening," Yoongi spoke, and then his fingers were intertwining with mine.

I practically choked on my own spit at his words; did this boy have a death wish? A cough came sputtering out of my lungs, the sound causing everyone in the room to look at me until I'd settled down. Even Professor Lee leaned forward from her seat on the other side of Yoongi, bewilderment written all over her expression as she gave me a look of disgust.

"Well there's your proof right there." She threw her hands up in defeat before gesturing to the two of us. "What more do you need? Expel them, Dr. Kim."

"B–but that's not it!" I suddenly exclaimed and lurched forward, feeling the heat of everyone's stare on our embraced hands, which in turn only made me grip him even harder for support. "Dr. Kim, you have to believe me when I tell you that Professor Lee has worked hard to make my life a living hell ever since I got to this school. She had a vendetta against me; she's in love with Yoongi, and so she–"

"That's not true!" Professor Lee screeched.

"She worked to turn people against us rather than coming to you because she wanted to blackmail Yoongi into being with her," I ignored her interjection and continued. "She even made a seminar about it—the mandatory seminar that everyone attended today!"

The dean turned his attention towards her. "The seminar about the importance of practicing safe sex?" He questioned in bewilderment.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words; that's what she was telling everyone it was about?

"It was!" She scrambled in defense. "I mean I... I may have brought up Yoongi and Y/N as an example, but that's only because they fit the part! Y/N had a pregnancy scare not too long ago, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to our students!"

I felt the color draining from my face, blanching it a stone cold white and decimating any feeling I had left in my body.

How the fuck did she know about the pregnancy?

My head instantly whipped towards Yoongi to see if he had any logical explanation for this, and his face was as poised and stoic as ever in front of his two colleagues—but I could see through it. I knew him well enough to catch onto the slightest falter in his blinking, the increase in heat that collected between our palms, the small twitch of his mouth that would've gone unnoticed by anyone else who observed him. I knew there was no way he could've told Professor Lee about the pregnancy, because he was just as blindsided as I was.

Dr. Kim simply raised his eyebrows in interest before turning back to Yoongi and me.

"Dr. Kim," Yoongi spoke, his voice dripping with amusement, "I mean no disrespect, but do you honestly think that if Y/N had a pregnancy scare, we would tell Sara about it? Come on; not after all she did to us."

"They—they didn't tell me!" Professor Lee huffed out a desperate breath. "I overheard them while I was–"

"While you were what?" I interrupted with a raise of my eyebrow. "While you were spying on us to find any blackmail you could use on Yoongi?"

"N–no!" She stuttered, though at this point it was obvious that she was making up lies on the spot. "While I was walking past the classroom!"

"Why would we be talking about that with the door open?!"

"Enough!" Dr. Kim barked, his deep voice rumbling throughout the small office. We all grew silent as we turned our attention to him. "There will be no arguing of he said/she said in my office," he scolded, then turned his attention to Yoongi before speaking. "I understand that there was someone you wanted me to see?"

Yoongi, who had remained calm during all of this, simply nodded his head before releasing my hand. "Yes, sir," he said as he stood up and walked towards the door.

My eyebrows were knitted in confusion as I watched it all transpire: the words exchanged between the two men, Yoongi rising out of his seat, the sight of my biology professor being revealed behind the closed door. The whole thing came as a surprise to me, and my emotions seemed to be having a war between the shock and relief that I felt raging like a storm in the pit of my stomach.

Why didn't Yoongi tell me about Professor Park being involved in this discussion? When did he have time to ask her to come? Did it even matter at this point?

"Professor Park," Dr. Kim widened his eyes, his frame physically reclining back in his seat. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"As am I to be here," she smiled though her voice was venomous, eyes flashing to a very alarmed Professor Lee.

"Mia?!" The woman barked in disbelief at her friend's entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago," Professor Park replied, and with that she turned towards the dean and opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm here to testify on the behalf of Min Yoongi and Y/N."

Earth-shattering elation rippled through me from the inside out, starting at the base of my toes and spiraling to the top of my head and the tips of my fingers, causing them to tingle and buzz with a newfound sense of hope. We might actually have a chance!

"What?!" Professor Lee's voice ripped through the air in a deafening screech. "This isn't a court case! You don't get to play witness!"

"Actually, if Professor Park has witnessed anything, I would definitely like to know," Dr. Kim chimed in, raising an eyebrow towards my biology professor.

Professor Park nodded her head towards him in appreciation before speaking. "A few months ago Sara approached me in my classroom to tell me about the nasty rumors that were surrounding her and a student. She singled the student out, saying to purposely damage their grades because they were treating her unfairly and disrespecting her rules and authority as a professor; she even went so far as to say that they were sending her death threats"

"What?!" The word ripped from my throat faster than I could blink as I stared jaw-dropped at the women in the room.

"That's not true!" Professor Lee instantly protested as expected. "Sir, I can assure you that I never–"

"I have the text messages if you want," Professor Park offered in a tone so nonchalant one would've thought she was conversing about the weather.

Dr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "Text messages? I thought you said she came by your class?"

"She did, sir." Mia interlaced her fingers in front of her and bowed her head politely. "We spoke about it on multiple occasions. I asked why she wouldn't just go to you, or even the authorities if the student was making death threats, but Sara was adamant. She didn't want any scandals revolving around her so that she could maintain the level of professionalism that she had developed here."

I heard a snort coming from next to me, and it was with a swollen heart of pride that I realized the sound came from Yoongi trying to hold in a laugh.

Professionalism? Her? I had never heard anything so far fetched in my life.

Sara simply glared as Mia ignored him and continued. "She assured me that the best way to deal with this pesky student was to slowly start to fail them, and I'll admit, I was angry for her. Sara was my friend, and I respected her enough to believe what she was telling me and follow her requests." She turned her head to where I sat on the other side of Yoongi. "That student was you, Y/N. And I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for the way I handled things. You were treated unfairly and poorly due to false information."

"It wasn't false!" Professor Lee jumped in to defend herself, but everyone was pretty much ignoring her. Even the dean could tell she was playing the part of the boy who cried wolf at this point.

"I'd like to see those text messages, if you don't mind." Dr. Kim reached his hand out expectantly.

There was a brief moment of silence while Professor Park nodded and tapped away on her phone before handing it to him. His cold and calculated eyes scanned the screen while saying nothing, all three of us waiting with bated breath for him to come to a decision in his mind.

There was no where left for her to run. With these text messages, all the constant denying that Professor Lee has done will be proven false and she will be exposed for all the hell she's put me through this semester. My heart was practically bursting at the thought.

"Well I would've appreciated it if you ladies had come to me with this information instead of handling it amongst yourselves, true or not," Dr. Kim finally sighed before giving Sara his full attention. "Ms. Lee, you have three people accusing you. Even if you didn't do it, there's obviously something that's turning them against you. And here at this university we strive to hold cooperation and communication above all else. If you don't get along with the fellow staff here, then why should I believe that they're the problem and not you?"

"Um, because Min Yoongi is fucking his student?!" Professor Lee was fuming now, her upper body lurching forward in her seat and her hands gripping the arm rests for dear life. "He literally just admitted to it!"

"Language, Ms. Lee," Dr. Kim scolded calmly. "I still like to maintain a professional attitude here in my office."

"I apologize sir, but that's beside the point." She was sitting back in her seat now, though her tone was no less frantic. "Min Yoongi is in a relationship with his student, and staff cooperation or not, I don't really think that's in the teacher handbook." She raised a snarky eyebrow at us as if believing that she had finally won.

I knitted my eyebrows, my palms feeling slick with a nervous sweat against Yoongi's as I realized the bigger problem here. It wasn't whatever lies and schemes Professor Lee had cooked up with my biology teacher; it wasn't even Professor Lee herself. It was the fact that Yoongi and I were in a relationship, and that was going to have enough consequences alone to shake me to my very core with fear.

"She's right," Dr. Kim uttered the words that I was silently hoping he wouldn't say, my grip tightening on Yoongi as I anticipated whatever outcome he's decided. Our fate was in his hands.

"Of course I am." Professor Lee crossed her arms and sat back in her seat with a smug grin.

"I'm afraid I have no choice." He was shaking his head, frowning at us apologetically though the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Min, I am sorry to inform you that you will have to be forced to resign from our university."

The color instantly drained from my face, and with it pulling all five senses that I have into the depths of the earth until I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak—I could barely even breathe. There was a lump that was forming in my throat and settling deep within my gut, all of this feeling fake, too fake to be real.

Yoongi was fired, and it was all because of me.

"I understand, sir."

It was Yoongi's words that were pulling me from my fog of disbelief and devastation, my eyes blinking in an effort to snap back to reality as I looked from him to the dean. "No. No, there has to be something we can do, please!" I begged, my voice starting to get frantic the more the severity of the situation hit me. "I–I'll drop out! You don't have to worry about me ever coming near here again, just please, please don't fire him!"

"Y/N..." Yoongi's voice was quiet and full of resignation, defeat, but I wasn't giving up.

"Yoongi is an amazing professor who has worked here for, what, two years? He's extraordinary at what he does and students love him. It's not easy to find a professor like that everyday." I was staring into the eyes of the dean now, trying to move him with my words. "You shouldn't throw away someone as great as him just because of some stupid 18 year old's mistake! Please, Dr Kim." I leaned forward in my seat, the room silent as I spoke. "He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me. Please, let me suffer the consequences, not him."

I continued to stare in Dr. Kim's eyes, silently channeling my emotions through the pleading expression in my eyes, and it wasn't until I felt a comforting hand on my back that I was instantly drawn away into a more calm state in my chair. I gazed over at the owner of the hand, and he flashed back that smile I loved except it was sad, and it didn't reach his eyes, and I could tell there was so much he wanted to say to me right now if we weren't in the confinement of his boss' office.

"I understand your efforts, Y/N, but there's nothing I can do." Dr. Kim shook his head, and it was as if the world around me was shattering into blades of glass, scraping at my skin and leaving bloody wounds that I knew would never heal. "Mr. Min was involved in this relationship as well, and no matter whose fault it is, the professor needs to be held accountable. There is a level of professionalism and maturity that he must possess in order to work here; he's your superior, a respectable authority figure, and so he should've known better."

It was all I could do to keep from crying as I lowered my eyes and shook my head, every inch of my heart breaking for Yoongi until all that was left were tiny fragments to scatter in the wind. I couldn't believe I'd done this to him. The very thing he'd been worried about from the start—I had ruined his career.

"It is our goal as a university to see our students succeed," he continued, though I could barely hear a thing. "As for you, Y/N, I see no reason as to why you shouldn't keep attending this university."

I blinked a few times, confused. "You want me to... what?"

"You will have a suspension on your student records, mind you, and one more of those will lead to expulsion," he explained. "Though that doesn't mean that you can't keep going to school here. You will have to meet with an advisor every two weeks, though, who will be keeping a close watch on your behavior."

I could barely even believe my ears; had my hearing been completely lost due to the shock of the situation? "That's totally a double standard!" I gestured to Yoongi in disbelief.

"Y/N, it's okay..." Yoongi tried to calm me down.

"No, it's not okay!" I roared, eyes wide and brows furrowed in disbelief as I glanced at him before turning back to the dean. "Where do you think you can get off by treating people like this? This is his career—his life!"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Y/N," Dr. Kim bellowed in a stern voice as he frowned. "I'm doing you a favor here by letting you continue your education. Speak out against me one more time and I will be revoking that offer."

His words were deafening throughout the office; it was suddenly understandable why he was so feared by those who worked under him. Yoongi started to run his hand along my spine in a soothing manner, and though it helped relax my fiery nerves and clear my foggy mind, I was still just as upset—if not more, now that the information was beginning to settle in.

"So that's it then?" Professor Lee spoke for the first time in a while, her lips pressed into a firm line, obviously disappointed by the turn of events though she didn't dare to speak out against Dr. Kim as he had warned. "Yoongi gets fired and Y/N gets a free ride?"

"Not so fast, Ms. Lee." The dean turned to her. "What you did was beyond unprofessional. You violated several school policies as well as bullied a student! Do you think that type of behavior is acceptable as a professor?"

Professor Lee opened her mouth as if to protest before slowly shutting it again, realizing that she had nothing left that she hadn't already denied. It was obvious that the evidence given to him by Professor Park, who stood silent in the corner of the room, was incriminating enough to sway his decision.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that you will be fired as well."

"What?!" Her shrill voice screeched through the air, tearing whatever I had left of my eardrums and rendering me deaf here in this office. "What I did was no where near as bad as Yoongi and Y/N!"

"If anything, it was worse." Dr. Kim folded his hands over his desk. "Let's not forget that you managed to involve the entire student body in a false seminar that maliciously exposed one of our students and professors," he raised an eyebrow at her, "and that was just today."

"Yeah, not to mention all the other shit you did behind my back to make my life a living hell," I couldn't help from interjecting in a heated tone, though I backed off upon seeing the dean's stern gaze.

He redirected his attention back to Sara. "Here at this university, we strive to have a professional relationship, safe environment, and healthy lifestyle for our students. Neither of you achieved those three goals, so both of you will have to be let go."

Yoongi's expression simply remained placid and free of any emotion while Professor Lee's reaction was practically visceral, though neither spoke a word as heavy silence fell over the small office.

"Am I... am I still needed, sir?" It was Professor Park whose voice broke through the tension, everyone having forgotten she was there in the midst of the emotion-filled chaos. "Because if not, then I'm going to go."

"No, I'm just about finished here." Dr. Kim let out a sigh, as if what just transpired had been hard on him out of all people in the room. My blood boiled just looking at him, though I know I had to learn when to speak out and when to bite my tongue as Yoongi had taught me.

"Dr. Kim, is there any way you can reconsi–"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Lee," his booming voice interrupted the frantic professor. "I've said all that I need to say on the matter. I'm not changing my mind."

"Dr. Kim?" I spoke up just as Professor Lee and Professor Park were getting ready to walk out the door. "I–I have something else to tell you. Un-related to this," I threw in when I saw him throw a glance in Lee's direction.

The man sighed before waving them out, leaving his office empty of visitors other than me and Yoongi in the chairs. I wasn't going to let that boy go anywhere.

"Y/N, I'm sorry that the outcome isn't exactly what you wanted but I'm afraid there's nothing I can–"

"Choi Junwoo tried to rape me," I blurted out.

There was a moment's pause as the dean was stunned silent with wide eyes, and out of my peripheral vision I could see Yoongi tense up and inhale sharply next to me.

"W–what–"

"Choi Junwoo," I spoke slowly for him so that he'd understand, "a student here at this university, tried to rape me at a frat party."

I couldn't leave the office without saying it. I couldn't leave the office without telling him. This wasn't just about me or the turmoil or trauma he caused; this was for every other girl in the future who might be a victim of Jun. Though in my heart I truthfully believed he was a good person, and that he really was just intoxicated beyond belief that night, it was still no excuse. If he had rape-tendencies while he was drunk and I didn't speak out about it, then I would be no better when it came to helping other sexual assault victims.

"Are you sure–"

"I found them at the party while he was mid-act," Yoongi jumped in, probably figuring he was already fired so there was nothing left for him to lose when it came to revealing details about our relationship outside of school. "It was... disgusting. I got her out of there immediately, but not before punching that bastard in the face."

"Metaphorically, of course!" I couldn't help but chime in, not wanting an assault charge to be on his record as well.

Thankfully Dr. Kim simply brushed off that minuet detail in favor for the more important issue at hand. "Y/N, what you're telling me will ruin this student's future. Are you absolutely sure you want to file this?"

Despite the anger that swelled up inside of me from him questioning my accusation, I still couldn't help the little trickle of doubt that crept in as I considered his words. At one point, Jun had been a friend... maybe even a potential lover had Yoongi not been in the picture. Dr. Kim was right, this information could potentially ruin his reputation, his education, his record... was I ready to carry the weight of knowledge that I've ruined someone's life forever?

"What are you talking about? Of course!" Yoongi spat an answer before I even had a chance to finish my thoughts. "She told you what happened, didn't she? Why would she speak out about something like this if she was making it up?"

"Maybe a personal vendetta?" The dean shrugged his shoulders. "People will do crazy things for revenge."

Now that got me heated. "The only one who wanted revenge here was Junwoo!" I stood up from my seat to yell. "He liked me and was mad that I turned him down. As if I owed my feelings to him or something! And when I told him no, he forced himself on me?! Is that really the type of message you want to send at this college? You know, since you're so high and mighty on "cooperation"," I did air quotes of sarcasm around my last words, my ears practically steaming with boiling rage.

"We will come out about this story, by the way," Yoongi added in, his voice full of venom. "And how will that look if you tried to keep us silent?"

"You can forget about me attending this university," I hissed.

"Alright, alright, settle down, the both of you," Dr. Kim lowered his hands in a calming manner. "I was not suggesting I buy your silence or anything of that nature. I was simply making sure you wanted to go through with this."

"Yes," Yoongi and I both answered in unison.

The dean nodded his head before clasping his hands together. "Alright."

The rest of the time in the office with spent filling on paperwork on a claim against Junwoo. I'd been given the option to be kept in the loop or even present when everything went down, though I politely declined. I wanted nothing more to do with that boy.

Though it would seem Professor Lee didn't share the same sentiment when it came to me, because as soon as soon as the two of us walked hand in hand into the hallway and Dr. Kim's door was securely shut, she sprung into action.

"You bitch!" She shrieked, not wasting another second as she leaped through the air and onto my body like a crouched tiger that was waiting for the right moment to attack. I felt the pressure of her weight against my chest and the sting of her nails scraping against my cheek, and before I knew it I was stumbling down, down onto the ground with another vicious blow to my jaw that was accompanied by her fist.

It all happened within a matter of seconds, but it wasn't long until I heard Yoongi yell Sara! and then her weight vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes as Yoongi slammed her shoulders back against the wall, though it was the look in his eyes that caught my attention. I had seen that expression before.

He was about to throw a punch.

"Yoongi, stop!" I cried, summoning all the strength I possessed to push myself to my feet and stumble over to the pair.

Yoongi whipped his head towards me with exasperated, almost wild eyes and his brows knitted in confusion and disbelief. "Y/N, she attacked you!"

"She isn't worth it," I spoke firmly in an attempt to get through to him. "Yoongi, just let it go. She isn't worth the trouble anymore."

It was when I placed a soothing hand against his back that Yoongi finally sighed, his stance visibly relaxing and his hands dropping from Professor Lee's shoulders. "She's right," he spit in a low, venomous tone as he turned back to her and grit his teeth. "Thanks to Dr. Kim, you already got what you deserve."

"Yoongi," there were sudden sobs that were tearing through the hallway, and it took me a moment to realize that Professor Lee was now... crying.

"Yoongi," she continued as she clung onto his shoulders. "Yoongi, I loved you!"

Somewhere deep inside of me, past all the burning hatred for what this woman has done to my life out of pure jealousy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. This was once me, heartbroken over the effects of unrequited love. Yoongi was a very sought-after man, I'd come to realize, and it wasn't about my feelings or Professor Lee's or anyone else's. It was about his.

"Sara," Yoongi sighed, and there was almost a wince in his tone from how hard he was trying to make her understand. "It's over."

"W–what?" The woman was scrambling now. "It doesn't have to be! We can go back to the way things were–"

"There never was a ‘we’!" He ripped her hands from his shoulders. "We were friends, and then you sabotaged my career and Y/N's education. You never once spoke out about your feelings, came forward, handled things like adults," he stressed the last line. "You never once did any of those things! Instead you belittled another woman and cost yourself your job all for a man—someone who until now, was your friend." Yoongi sighed again and shook his head. "I hope you get the help you need, Sara. I'm sure there is someone out there who will love you unconditionally... but that person is not me."

And with that, he put a gentle hand on my back and we walked away.

“Oh my god.”

Those were the first words out of my mouth the second we exited the building, my hands resting on my head in disbelief as I turned to Yoongi. “Holy shit, Yoongi–“

“Shhh,” he instantly consoled me, his arms engulfing me in a comforting hug and my face tucking underneath his chin as he held me close. “We did it, Y/N. It’s all over.”

I stayed in his embrace for a few moments as his words sunk in. It was all over. No more secrets, no more Professor Lee—no more anything.

“B–but your job...” I pulled away to look up at him with a shaky tone, my brows furrowed in concern. “Dr. Kim fired you, he–“

“I resigned, Y/N. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I couldn’t help but look up at him with a hopeless expression.

Yoongi simply nodded his head, the picture of nonchalance as if his career hadn’t just changed forever. “Yes. If I had gotten fired, it would look terrible on my resumé should I apply for another teaching position. However, given the circumstances of our arrangement...” he paused, no doubt thinking of Professor Lee, “I suppose he decided to take it easy on us all.”

My shoulders deflated in relief. “Well thank god for that...” I sighed, not even wanting to think of what could’ve happened if Dr. Kim had given us the harshest punishment. In an ironic, twisted way, I suppose I have Professor Lee to thank for that. If she wouldn’t have made my life a living hell, it would’ve been that much worse if Dr. Kim ever found out on his own.

“But none of that even matters to me right now,” Yoongi suddenly snapped, and then in the time it took me to raise an questioning eyebrow he had already grabbed both sides of my face and rammed his lips into mine, the same as he did before we went inside to confront Professor Lee.

Only this time, the kiss was different. It didn’t hold promises and potential; it held freedom. It held the success of finally getting through everything by the skin of our teeth, the relief and the pride and the pure love that we have for each other after overcoming everything that we’ve been through together. I kissed him and I didn’t care who saw—because he wasn’t my professor anymore. There were no invisible chains that bounded us apart. It was just me and him sticking together against all odds. Never in my life did I think I would ever be a part of a relationship so committed, so passionate, so determined. He and I would never stop fighting for each other.

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” I murmured against his mouth with a grin on my features that was hard to disguise—especially when I felt the corners of his lips pull up into that gummy smile that I adored with all of my heart.

“God, I love you too, Y/N,” he replied back with a content sigh, and then he continued to kiss me on the busy campus sidewalk until we were both breathless and blue in the face.

Because we now had nothing to lose.

Despite finally being released from the clutches that school had on us, the days following the meeting with Dr. Kim were not easy.

Other than having to put on a fake smile and continue attending a university where practically everyone knew about my relationship with now-former Professor Min (my mother would never let me drop out—not that I could ever tell her the reason I'd want to, anyways), there were the stresses that Yoongi was dealing with of now being unemployed. And what with all but abandoning my dorm room to instead spend my nights with him at his apartment, it was impossible to not feel the weight of his problems on my shoulders as well. No matter how many times Yoongi tried to put up a façade and reassure me that he was okay, I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault.

"If I just never would've made you dance with me at that club..." I'd say at times, unable to keep from tracing back each and every one of our interactions and blaming myself.

"Cut that out," Yoongi would snap.

"What? It's true!"

"You know I don't like it when you talk like that!" He'd turn to me with a stern tone. "I don't regret anything that happened between us, okay? Not one single bit." There was a heavy silence as his words would hang in the air. "If you wouldn't have asked me to dance, then who knows if I ever would've worked up the courage to kiss you? And I wouldn't be here, sharing this bed with the love of my life."

"Aw, Yoongi..."

And the two of us would make love, again and again until we'd have a similar argument some time later and repeat the whole process all over again. I'd feel guilty, Yoongi would remind me of exactly how much he doesn't regret meeting me, and we'd get lost in each other's embrace.

That is, until a simple Sunday morning suddenly changed everything.

"I got it."

I casually peered over at the sound of him from my spot in the living room, sitting criss crossed on the couch in my pajamas with a laptop in my lap. "What?"

"The job." Yoongi's voice was low, serious as he stared at the paper in his hands that had previously been so carelessly disregarded on the kitchen island along with the Sunday paper. "At the university in Seoul."

"Wait." He had all of my attention now as I sat the laptop on the coffee table and rose to my feet. "Like the Seoul National University university?"

"Yeah," he let out a single chuckle of disbelief before he pressed the paper against the counter and turned to me. "I got the job."

"Oh my god, Yoongi!" I exclaimed with my own chuckle of disbelief before running forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms immediately engulfed my waist and lifted me off the ground as we spun around in place, my lips instantly finding his in a searing kiss that was full of passion and excitement to match our current mood. "That's amazing!"

"I know," he replied as he placed me down. A tentative smile was frozen on his lips as he stared off into the distance before letting out another sound of disbelief, his head shaking before his palm slid down his face. "I can't believe it!"

"I'm so proud of you!" I mirrored the grin of pure elation on his features, my chest swelling with joy and relief and most of all, pride.

I was so, so proud of Yoongi. I knew how much his job meant to him, and the feeling of guilt that weighed down on me from knowing that I was the one who inadvertently took that away from him, that I was the one who inadvertently caused all this stress of job hunting was instantly lifted off my shoulders. I knew how much he wanted this. I knew how hard he had worked to get this job at such a prestigious school, and god damn it, I knew how much he deserved it. If Yoongi was anything, apart from being an amazing person and a wonderful lover, he was great at his job. He was a natural born teacher.

Though no matter how many times I've willingly showered him with endless compliments about his work, he'd blush sheepishly and simply swat away all of my words with a simple kiss, or an "if you don't shut up your food is going to get cold. We're unemployed now; we need all the nutrition we can get. Haven't you ever heard of the Great Depression?"

So instead, I just chose to beam at him while he basked in the euphoria of the moment that this job acceptance brought on. After all, I knew he was well aware of how proud of him I was and how supportive I'd always be when it came to anything he wanted to accomplish.

Though the bliss was short lived.

I watched as Yoongi's expression slowly fell, the smile on his face slipping into a deep frown and his eyes turning to stone. "No."

"What?" I furrowed my brows, concern filling me and etching onto my features as I cupped his cheek in my hand, trying to figure out why his mood had changed so suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not taking it." His tone was cold, definitive, as if the subject wasn't even up for debate as he grabbed the letter.

"Wait wait wait," I hurried to stop him from tearing it in half. "What are you talking about? Why not?"

He turned to look at me with cold, incredulous eyes, as if he couldn't believe I was even asking a question so stupid. "The university is in Seoul, Y/N."

"Okay...?" I shook my head in confusion, still not understanding what the issue was. "And?"

"I'd have to move." He was taking the paper back out of my hands and ripping it right down the middle before I got the chance to stop him.

I suddenly deflated, the severity of his words dropping in my stomach and wrapping around the anchor of my heart, sending it down, down, down through the floor of his apartment and hurdling towards the center of the earth.

"...What?"

"I'd have to move away from you."

And there is was, the bomb detonating an explosion and demolishing whatever was left of my heart.

"No... t–there has to be another way, there has to–"

"Seoul is hours away from here, Y/N," Yoongi barked out, his tone angry and harsh as it always was when he was upset. "It's on the other side of the country; there's no way I'd be able to commute without living there."

"Okay, so why did you apply then?" I couldn't help but snap back defensively. "You knew the distance to Seoul prior to applying for the job. Why even bother if you're just going to get pissed about not taking it?!"

"Because I didn't think I'd get accepted!" His voice was loud, almost yelling now. "It's the most sought after, prestigious school in the fucking country and I didn't think some young idiot who got fired from his last job would be able to get in!"

It was silent as his words settled over the atmosphere, clinging to the air that filled the room around us and encasing my lungs until it was impossible to breathe.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I finally hissed. "You're a great teacher, and you know it. If anyone's a young idiot here, it's me!"

Yoongi scoffed with a shake of his head. "I'm the one who kissed you again during that tutoring session after telling you to stay away. I'm the one who fucked you against that desk." His tone was low now, and his eyes seemed to grow harder in realization with each step that he took towards me. "I'm the one who asked to take you out on that fucking date and I'm the one who pulled you onto my lap when Sara caught us in my classroom! God damn it, I'm the one who tracked you down at a fucking frat party and punched one of my students!"

His voice slowly raised until he was yelling again, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was now standing chest to chest and cornering me up against the countertop of the island, I would've winced at the loud volume so close to my ears.

"Stop blaming yourself, Y/N, when I'm the one who was the authority figure. I'm the one who should've had my shit together, but I just couldn't around you!"

I felt myself soften at that. As angry and intimidating as he seemed right now, surely frightening whoever would come into contact with him when he was like this, I knew that it was all a front. Yoongi wasn't the best at dealing with emotional situations—he'd all but bite my head off any time I even tried to mention his father—and sometimes lashed out in anger when he was upset or hurting inside. I knew how badly he wanted this job; I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice when he'd first submitted the application. And now, when the career position of his dreams was finally right under his nose, he couldn't have it. Because I was holding him back.

"You have to take it." My voice was solemn and steady as I stared him in the eyes.

He instantly frowned. "What? No, I–"

"Yoongi."

He fell silent, all signs of anger and malice wiped from his features once he saw just how serious I was being. A soft, bittersweet smile that had nothing to do with happiness slowly tugged at my lips as my eyes gleamed with pain. My heart was breaking with every word I was speaking, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

"You have to take the job."

The silence that ensued my words only further proved my point, simultaneously stabbing a knife into my chest with each passing second. He knew I was right. He knew it. He just didn't want to hear it.

"You don't..." He sounded smaller, more pitiful and confused as he tried to make sense of what I was saying. "You don't want me to stay?"

The hurt, the sadness, the utter hopelessness in his voice absolutely crushed me. I couldn't help but fall into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his chest and squeezing tightly as if I could somehow hold the pieces of him together that I knew were breaking. The severity of what was happening, of what I was doing started to settle within me the moment I heard his voice break.

"I do, baby," I replied, the sound muffled by the skin of his neck that my face was buried in as a sob threatened to claw its way out of my throat and swallow me whole. "God, you know I do. But you can't."

"Y–you can come with me." He was shaking his head now, his hands gripping at the shirt on my back with closed fists while he desperately tried to hold onto me, as if I would disappear beneath him at any moment. "We can move together to Seoul and you can–"

"You know I can't, Yoongi." It was my turn to shake my head, and with it came a heavy tear that fell down my cheek. "I have to go to school. I have a family who's helping pay for my tuition, and my mom— you know it's not all up to me."

I heard him sniffle as he pulled away, and even though I felt no evidence of tears from him against my skin or my shirt, his eyes were bright red when he stared back at me.

"I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

The sheer determination in his voice had me shattering like broken glass. "I'm not letting you do this, Yoongi. I'm not letting you waste this opportunity. Do you know how many people are waiting to work at Seoul University? How many professors would kill to be in your position?" I kept my gaze steadily on his as I slowly shook my head. "I care about you... so fucking much. I've never loved someone so much before... not like this." I paused, asking myself one last time if this was really the decision I wanted to make as my words settled in. I took in the sight of his beautiful, breathtaking features silently begging me not to do this. "I'm putting you above my selfishness," I finally decided with another shake of my head. "You need to do this Yoongi, for you. You know you do."

Yoongi slowly shook his head, though the expression on his face told me he knew I was right. "I don't want to lose you," he spoke as a tear spilled over the brim of his eye, dampening his lashes and leaving a wet streak in its wake as it rolled down his cheek, and the sight was the final breaking point that had me bursting into tears.

"Neither do I."

His fingers dug into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body, his forehead leaning against mine as the only sounds exchanged between the two of us were the unspoken words of labored breaths and soft sobs.

Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do what's best for them.

And I knew this was what's best for Yoongi.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #lmao why am i so impulsive #i decided i was gonna post this all of ten minutes ago and here we are #anyways this will help my peace of mind to know that at least SOMETHING is out there #some sort of closure to the series #not everything i had planned but #it'll do for now #i hope u guys can forgive me for whatever tf this is fjshgdkfd

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berrynarrybanana · 3 years

Text

Deck the Halls - pt. 1

A/N: Ummmm.....so this is kind of like a Christmas fic, but it turned out very different than I expected it to. It’s more of a...wintery suspense type thing with an actual lengthy as fuck plot, but the romance is strong from the beginning. I tried to keep it in one post, but the word count is simply too much for me to put in one post. I plan on updating everything that I have so that you all can indulge in the story while I finish it up. I know that this might not be everyone’s cup of hot chocolate, but I hope that some of you enjoy it! I haven’t really done anything of this nature before, so I’m kind of nervous about the whole thing. I hope that you all had a wonderful holiday, and I can’t wait for us to ring in the new year together! I love you all loads!

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, smut, fluff....other things i can’t remember at this moment?

November 1

Harry is walking through the snow.

The soft sound of snow crunching under his boots and the wind whipping around him is all that he can hear at first. He feels cold, but he’s been colder than this. His hand feels warm, though his hands are bare. He glances down, his eyes locking on an emerald green mitten. He feels the fingers in the mitten flex, gripping his hand tightly. He trails his eyes up the arm covered in a light green coat, freezing when he sees the curly tendrils of snow white hair draped over her shoulder. He knows instantly who it is, and he knows exactly how this dream will end.

When his eyes finally land on rich, berry red lips, he feels his breath catch in his throat. He’s never seen her face before this. She’s usually drowning by the time he gets to the lake, already under the block of ice as the man with blue hair holds her under. He can’t help but stare, taking in the beautiful and ethereal features of her face. It’s almost as if she isn’t real at all, from the color of her skin to the pointed tips of her ears. The hair was strange, but he’d gotten used to the beyond platinum shade over the years. It wasn’t so shocking to him anymore.

Harry turns his attention from the girl when he hears a twig snap, his gaze dropping to the snow covered floor of the forest they've been walking through. He wasn’t sure why they were walking in the woods, or where they were going, but he was happy to be spending time by her side. He was happy that he wasn’t watching her die for once, her beautiful face still full of life as her lips moved. She was talking, but he couldn’t hear a word that she said. All he could hear was the wind and the snow, a whistle and a crunch echoing in his ears as if he had winter sounds playing from a quality stereo.

He hated that he couldn’t hear her.

He hated that he didn’t know where they were going.

But suddenly, it all becomes clear.

The lake.

“Don’t.” Harry croaks out through chapped lips, squeezing her fingers in an attempt to get her attention. Her lips stop moving as he pulls her closer, but she offers him a sad smile. “We shouldn’t-”

“It’s alright.” He can finally hear her voice, the sound something akin to Christmas bells being softly run in the middle of the night. “We have to go.”

“You can hear me.” He breathes out, his eyes stinging due to the wind, and the inevitable tragedy that’s about to occur. “You can hear me and I can hear you.”

“I guess so.” She glances up, an amused smile curling the corners of her lips as she hums out.

When she looks back down at Harry, he loses his breath.

“What’s your name?” She asks, turning her back towards the lake, giving him her full attention.

“Harry.” He whispers the word, almost as if he’s afraid for anyone else to hear it. “I...who are you?”

“I can’t tell you.” He watches her face fall, her expression going dismal. “But I want to.”

“You can tell me anything.” He moves closer, squeezing her fingers. “Talk to me, love.”

“I can’t say it.” Her brows furrow in frustration. “It won’t come out, no matter how hard I try to say it.”

“Why is this happening to us?” He presses, moving his feet closer. “Why do you drown every single time? Why can’t I save you?”

“I don’t know.” She glances down, her cheeks losing their glow. “I wish that you could save me, Harry.”

“I’ll try harder this time.” He gulps, his throat tightening as tears threaten his eyes. “I’ll try harder to save you, I promise.”

“But you won’t save me.” She looks up, her own eyes glossed over with unshed tears. “It’s okay, Harry. It was meant to be this way.”

“No, I don’t believe it.” He shakes his head. “I can save you.”

She shakes her head, slowly backing away from him.

“We have to go now.” She says softly, her feet carrying her towards the iced over lake.

Harry notices a pair of skates dangling over her shoulders.

“No, don’t go.” He reaches out for her, but she continues to move away. “Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.” She steps onto the ice, the soft cracking noises causing Harry’s eyes to grow wide with panic. “Save me, Harry.”

And just like that, it’s all over.

November 2 Harry’s POV - Age 21

Harry pushes the door to Paradise Records open, watching a few flakes of paint fall to the concrete stoop outside of his shop. He made a mental note to buy some paint to touch up the door before the holiday season started.

He could feel the frustration creeping up his spine at the mere thought of Christmas, and it was times like these that he wished the world had sympathy for those who hated the holiday. He hated to give into the global phenomenon, but it did bring in enough business and revenue to keep the shop afloat until the annual summer sale rolled around in June.

He sipped at his bitter, black coffee, walking into the record store with a relieved sigh. This was truly his paradise where he escaped from the demons that haunted his mind. For a split second, he was finally at peace after the grueling nightmare he endured. That peace was quickly disturbed by the jingling of bells from the front door, causing Harry to frown as he turned on his heels.

“Another beautiful day in paradise, eh boss!” Niall clapped his hand down on Harry’s shoulder on his way towards the checkout counter, causing Harry to bite back a whine of discomfort. “How are you today?”

There were knots in Harry’s shoulders causing him pain, and most of them were caused by the cheery Irish lad pushing behind the checkout counter.

“Good morning, Niall.” Harry turned towards the boy with a sarcastic smile. “Why are you always so bloody loud.”

“You knew I was loud when ya’ hired me, I put it under my strengths on my job application.” Niall called out as he walked through the beaded curtain to the back office, whistling a tune that made Harry’s ears ache.

“I didn’t know that you were a fucking foghorn, mate.” Harry hiked his leather bag higher up on his shoulder, fighting off a yawn as he followed slowly in Niall’s footsteps.

“Did you have a long night?” Niall popped out from the beaded curtain, causing Harry to jump as he made it behind the counter. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, long night.” Harry grumbled, shutting the employee gate at the end of the counter. “You watch the front for a few hours, I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on.”

“Sure.” Niall nodded as Harry pushed through the curtain. “If you need anymore coffee, just let Mitch know. He’s stopping at Java Java before he comes in.”

Harry pulled out his phone, typing a quick text telling Mitch not to get Niall coffee.

He didn’t need any more energy.

He needed a proper nights rest.

Harry sat down at his desk, putting his coffee by his keyboard with a heavy sigh.

There wasn’t enough espresso in the world to fix the aching in his head caused by the nightmare he had last night. In the sixteen years that he’d been having the recurring nightmare, he was never able to talk to her in the dream. He was still haunted by the beautiful sound of her voice when she spoke to him, but he was mostly haunted by the sound of her desperate pleas for help. But his feet were frozen solid to the ground as the man with ice blue hair held her under the water. He emerged from the cracks in the ice this time, pulling the girl under with him as she screamed for her life. Harry remembers screaming for her until his throat was sore, but when he woke up this morning, he felt fine.

Harry brushed his palms over his face, inhaling sharply as he tried to push the image of her face from his mind. He didn’t need to spend the rest of his day thinking about her. He needed to get to work. There was a lot that he needed to do in preparation for Christmas. Every single year, parents and Uni students would come into Paradise Records and buy out his record players, and usually all of his Christmas albums. He’d already pre-ordered Christmas albums, but he needed to get in contact with the shipping company and the manufacturer to make sure they all arrived on time for the Christmas sale.

“Hey boss,” Niall’s sudden shout made Harry flinch, muttering a curse under his breath at the Irish lad. “Gemma is here.”

“Tell her to come back.” Harry called back, reaching into his bag in search of his glasses with his left hand while he booted up his computer with his right hand.

He hated wearing glasses, but Gemma bought them for him last Christmas when he opened the shop, insisting that they would improve the quality of his eyesight by blocking out the blue light in most devices. He did notice a slight difference in the quality of his vision after using them.

“Look at you, a dapper young man in his glasses.” Gemma pushed Noah’s pram into Harry’s office, the toddler screeching out the second his eyes landed on his uncle. “Alright, young man, Mum isn’t superwoman. I can’t move that fast.”

“You have five seconds to hand me my nephew before I start screaming with him.” Harry teased, looking at Noah with a wide smile. “I’ve missed you, mate.”

“It’s been three days, not three months.” Gemma huffed out, unbuckling the straps on the pram until Noah was free of restraint. “Alright, you can stop your crying now dove, uncle knobhead is right here.”

Harry scowled at his sister, leaning up to grab his nephew by the waist with ease.

“Harry.” Noah screeched, patting his palms against Harry’s cheeks. “Hi.”

“Hi, bubba.” Harry kissed over Noah’s face, causing him to giggle out as Gemma found a seat on the opposite side of Harry’s desk. “You know he’s not going to leave here without throwing a fit, right?”

“I know.” Gemma let out a breathy laugh laced with frustration. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry settled Noah in his lap, resting his hand on Noah’s lap so that he could entertain himself by playing with the rings on his uncle’s fingers. “What brings you by?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about Christmas.” Gemma said softly, watching Harry’s face change from curious to furious in two seconds flat. “I know, you still don’t feel ready to celebrate after Mum and Dad, but I think we should start easing back into it. Noah is getting older, and we’ve got friends who-”

“I’ll do it for Noah, but I don’t want to celebrate with other people.” Harry interrupted. “I still don’t get how can you be okay with it, Gemma? They died because of some stupid Christmas tradition.”

“So are we supposed to hate pancakes now?” She tossed her hands up with an eye roll. “You drive a bloody car, don’t you? The pancakes didn’t kill them, Harry. Some reckless driver knocked into their car.”

“It’s not-”

“You’re being childish, Harry.” Gemma snapped at her younger brother, shaking her head. “Christmas isn’t the thing that killed Mum and Dad. I know that it sucks, having the anniversary of their death on your favorite holiday, but you have to deal with this. You can’t keep pushing it off like this.”

“I can, and I will.” He said, clearing his throat as his sister shook her head. “I don’t want to be happy without them on such a terrible day, Gemma.”

“I really think you should talk to someone about this.” She sighed, brushing her palms over her thighs. “I think it would do you some good to work out the issues you have surrounding this whole thing. I’ve been talking to someone since it happened, and it’s really helped me cope.”

“I don’t need help.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, Gemma.”

“It’s not fine, and the fact that you don’t seem to realize that worries me the most.” She whispered. “You’re drowning in your own grief, and I can’t save you.”

Harry froze, his eyes snapping back to his sister.

“What did you just say to me?” He asked her, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I said it’s like you’re drowning in your own grief.” She said slowly, tilting her head with narrowed eyes as Harry stared back at her like she’d stepped on his foot. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Because…..” He paused, licking over his bottom lip as he inhaled sharply, shaking his head. It was best not to mention the nightmares, or the girl. “Nothing.”

“There you go again.” She let out a bitter laugh, smacking her thighs. “You can’t keep everything bottled in forever, Harry.”

But this, I should keep bottled in.

“It seems to be working out alright.” Harry shrugged, searching for something to change the subject. “How are we on presents for little man this year? Did you get everything on your list?”

“Yeah, nearly.” Gemma mumbled, picking at a loose strand of thread on her scarf. “Niall has helped me get most of the shopping done when I’m at work. He’s truly a godsend, Harry. I’m so happy he lives close by, and that Noah loves him.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at his sister, previous suspicions about Niall and Gemma creeping back into his mind. He always knew there was something between the two, but he could never get a straight answer out of either of them on their feelings. Gemma swore that he was only a friend, and a good neighbor. Niall swore that he only hung around Gemma to hang out with Noah. Harry pressed his lips together, watching as Gemma’s cheeks turned pink, the soft color giving away their secrets in an instant. Normally, she was better at hiding it.

“What?” She squeaked out, shifting in her chair.

“You slept with Niall, didn't you?” Harry said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “You finally bit the bullet and slept with him.”

“Harry, Noah is right there.” Gemma’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t say things like that in front of him!”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Gemma! Who was watching Noah when you were getting it on with Niall of all people!” Harry asked, his brows lifting up towards his hairline. “Noah doesn’t know what that means, calm down.”

Gemma snapped her mouth shut, sinking in her chair.

Harry wasn’t really mad, but he enjoyed teasing Gemma.

Niall was a good guy.

“My poor nephew.” Harry tutted, shaking his head before he pressed a kiss to the soft ginger hair on top of Noah’s head. “I’m so sorry, buddy. I’ll make sure to dock Niall’s pay to help out with the therapy you’re going to need when you’re older.”

“Alright, we get it.” Gemma grumbled, crossing her arms with a frown. “I’m a terrible mother and a horrible sister.”

“Hey.” Harry snapped, turning his attention back towards his sister with furrowed brows and a deep frown. “I never said that, and I never will. I’m only teasing you because you slept with fucking lucky charms out there, I’m not shaming you as a woman or a mother in anyway. You’re allowed to have fun, Gemma.”

“I know.” Her lips curved into a smile as her brother nodded, glancing at Noah as the toddler tried to pull off his Grateful Dead ring. It seemed to be his nephew’s favorite ring, and Harry couldn’t wait until Noah was old enough to wear it himself. “I’ve raised you well.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry rolled his eyes with a playful snort. “I just don’t want to hear about you and Niall’s sex life ever again, capiche?”

“Got it.” She nodded, trying not to smile. “He’s a really good guy, Harry, and I really like him a lot. I would also love it if he could spend Christmas with us.”

Realization dawned over Harry as he looked at his sister.

So that’s what this is about.

“You want him to spend Christmas with the three of us?” Harry asked. “Like, as a family?”

“We’re gonna ease Niall into it, but I think so.” She softly laughed. “Noah adores him, Harry, and quite frankly so do I.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his nephew with hesitation.

These two were all that he had left in the world, and bloody Niall was trying to take them away.

But maybe she needed someone like Niall in her life to balance out all of the bad that loomed over her head. The Irishman was supportive, and positive no matter what situation he was in. He was loyal and kind to everyone he met, and he was honest, and genuinely the best at giving advice. Harry hated to admit it, but Niall was everything Harry used to be. He couldn’t be that positive influence that his sister and nephew needed anymore, but Niall could.

So maybe he needed to let them move on.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Gemma smiled. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“I can’t believe-”

“Oh, actually-” Gemma held up her hand, interrupting Harry. “I am also asking that you won’t kill him when I leave.”

“That’s asking a lot.” Harry blew out a breath, shaking his head. “I’m definitely allowed at least one punch, Gemma. My best mate slept with my sister, c’mon.”

“Please don’t punch him, he bruises like a peach.” Gemma groaned.

“How do you know that?” Harry’s brows lifted before they fell, a look of disgust washing over his face as Gemma pressed her lips together. “That’s fucking gross! I didn’t need to know that!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Did you tell him?” Niall’s head poked into Harry’s office. “Did he call me his best mate a second ago?”

“I’m going to punch you.” Harry lifted his free hand, pointing at Niall. “You’re lucky I have Noah in my lap, mate.”

“But I bruise like a peach!” Niall looked at Gemma with wide eyes. “Did ya tell him, love?”

“I did.” She nodded, but she pursed her lips in defeat. “I can’t help you with this one, Ni.”

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Niall groaned. “I knew I should have taken those self defense classes with you Gem.”

Harry watched Niall sulk out of his office, Gemma glaring at Harry before she got up to follow her new loverboy. Harry rolled his eyes before glancing down to Noah. The toddler dropped his head back against Harry’s chest, lifting his uncle’s hand up to chew on one of his fingers with a sparkle in his eyes.

“This is your fault, mate.” Harry said softly, not a stitch of malice in his voice. “I’m only agreeing to this because I love you more than anyone else in the world, and I expect you to change my nappies in return when I’m old, do you hear me?”

“Harry.” Noah gurgled out, a gummy smile melting Harry’s fake stern expression. “Harry, hi!”

“I love you.” Harry pressed soft kisses all over Noah’s face. “You’re my favorite human... even if you don’t have any teeth.”

November 3 Holland’s POV

Holland felt like she was going to vomit as she walked through the halls of Santa’s workshop.

As the elves watched her with judgmental, licorice colored eyes, her palms started to sweat, and her feet moved faster. Her father requested her for an urgent meeting, but Holland truly had no idea what it could be about. She hadn’t told anyone about her dreams, afraid that people would think she was crazy for having them. She was used to the dreams, but last night’s dream put her on edge. Something was different about the situation, and it wasn’t just the fact that she knew the boy’s name.

For the first time since they started, she saw his face.

She would admit without shame that she would die over and over again in her dream if it meant she could look at him. His hair was shoulder length and the strands curled up at the end. He had a beautiful set of candy pink lips that Holland wanted to taste with her own, and gorgeous jade eyes that were almost translucent. She spent most of her nightmare staring into them, trying to see into his soul as if it would help her find him.

But it didn’t work.

He was still just a stranger to her.

A stranger named Harry.

As she approached her father’s office, she felt her palms become slicker than they were before as her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. She reached down for the doorknob, turning it before she pushed the heavy wooden door open. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the three, ominous figures standing off to the side of her father’s desk. The vibe that they gave off sent shivers down her spine as the little hairs on her arm stuck up to warn her of danger.

“Come in.” Her father ushered her in, and Holland’s feet followed the command without hesitation. “Holland, I would like for you to meet the Council of Elders.”

“Hello.” Holland offered them a small wave, her body shrinking nervously as they glared back at her.

Their dark robes were just as creepy as the large, wooden walking sticks they carried.

“Young child.” One of the men spoke up, holding his hand out to her. “Give me your hand.”

Holland looked towards her father, afraid to take a stranger’s hand.

“Go on, Holland.” Her father said. “Do as they ask, my dear. I promise that they won’t hurt you.”

Holland moved closer to the man with jet black hair, sliding her fingers into his palm.

A shock greeted her senses, causing her to gasp and jump.

“It’s alright.” The man whispered. “Close your eyes, show me what you see.”

When Holland obeyed his order, Holland thought of the lake.

Her entire dream played out in her head, almost as if it were on a television screen instead of in her mind. The closer they got towards the end, the harder Holland gripped the man’s hand in her own. The end was the part that she hated the most, the part that tore her apart.

“Holland, baby, please breathe for me.” Harry’s palms brushed over her cheeks, tears streaming down his own as he tried to bring her back to life. “I need you to wake up, Holland! I need you.”

The dream finished with Holland on the ice, Harry sobbing into her neck.

He did know her name.

“My, my, my.” The man spoke, tutting his tongue. “It seems that I was right after all.”

“Right about what?” Holland whispered, blinking her eyes rapidly in attempts to clear the tears from her vision. “How did you know about my nightmares?”

“Because I rule them, my dear.” The man spoke. “I’m Morpheus, the god of dreams.”

“Oh.” She whispered, still in shock. “You make those happen?”’

“Most dreams are of my creation, but not yours.” He said. “Your nightmare is crafted at the hand of someone else, a master manipulator that has conned his way into using someone else’s magic.”

“Morpheus, I would like to know what in the sleigh bells is going on with my daughter-”

“Kristopher, this is not your place.” The shortest of the three men hissed, his chubby cheeks turning red.

“Now, now…” The only woman spoke up, a sly smirk on her black painted lips. “Erotes, Kristopher is merely concerned for his offspring.”

“If he was concerned about her well being, Ma’at, he would not have split her from the boy-”

“Erotes.” Morpheus drawled out. “He could not have known about the boy.

“He should have known.” Erotes turned back to Holland, offering her a soft smile. “To be parted from the other half of one’s soul is a pain I would not wish on my worst enemies. I sincerely apologize on behalf of myself for letting you be away from him for so long.”

“I don’t understand.” Holland looked from Erotes to Morpheus, her brow furrowed. “What does-”

“Things have changed, haven’t they?” The man hummed out as if Holland were a specimen that he was examining in a lab instead of a girl.

“He knows my name.” She whispered. “And I know his name.”

“And you didn’t know it before.” The man narrowed his dark eyes, staring at her with a curious grin. “How is that, little elf?”

“I don’t know.” She tried to pull her hand back, but the man kept her fingers in a tight hold. “I just...I had the first dream when I was five, and it’s always been the same up until last week. It was all the same until suddenly I saw his face, clearer than it’s ever been before. I said his name like I’d known it all along and then….when I was drowning I saw him for the first time.”

Holland cleared her throat as it started to tighten, trying to regain her voice.

“You saw who did it.” The man spoke. “You know who it is that is trying to kill you both?”

“I do.” She nodded, licking over her lips nervously. “It’s Jack Frost.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Kris spoke up from his desk, his chair scraping across the wooden floor as he stood up. “What does Frost have to do with this?”

“The boy that you exposed yourself to as Santa sixteen years ago on Christmas night is your daughter’s other half.” Erotes said. “They are two souls created from the same star, the brightest star, and their love for each other has been tainted by your ignorance. The moment you laid eyes on the boy, you should have contacted me.”

“He reminded me of Holland, but I didn’t...” Kris said. “He had that same glow that she has in her eyes, I remember that much about him.”

“Their souls were forged from the ash of the Christmas star.” Morpheus said. “Other than you and your son, these two are the last people on earth with true Christmas spirit and it is their job as children of the Christmas star to instill that spirit into the souls of everyone they meet.”

“Jack Frost wishes to kill them both to absorb that power for a different use, of course.” Ma’at spoke up, drawing Holland’s eyes from Morpheus. “In the wrong hands, their power can be used for evil things.”

“When Frost kills them both, he will kill Christmas.” Erotes tutted. “We wouldn’t want that to happen, Kringle. The humans wouldn’t know what to do without Christmas, it would be horrible.”

“So what do we do?” Holland looked at Morpheus, swallowing around the lump in her throat as he looked down at her.

“We must keep an eye on Jack Frost.” Morpheus spoke. “And you must find your soulmate. He has suffered great tragedy, and his Christmas spirit is nearly gone. You must save him, and restore his power if you wish to properly fight for your lives.”

“Both souls must be pure in order for you to fight Jack Frost and his twisted magic.” Ma’at said.

“You must go to him, Holland.” Erotes said. “You must be by your beloved.”

“I don’t have any clue how to survive in the real world.” She shook her head. “And I don’t know where to find him, or how I would even begin to restore his Christmas spirit. I’ve never been trained on that kind of thing.”

“Look at me, Holland.” Morpheus snapped. “I have faith in your ability to do this without failing, but my faith in you is nothing if you don’t believe in yourself. Let that be the lesson you learn during this mission of yours.”

“Without Christmas, the rest of us will cease to exist.” Ma’at said. “The entire world of magic relies on you.”

“I will take you to him in six days time.” Erotes said. “He is in London.”

She swallowed, clenching her fingers into fists at her side.

“Alright.” She said softly. “What do I need to do to prepare myself?”

“There is a book you must read.” Morpheus said. “I will send it to you as soon as I return to my own realm. You need to practice your Christmas magic, little elf.”

When Holland blinked, the council of elders was gone without a trace.

She turned around to her Father with wide eyes, her mouth open in shock.

“What in the sugar plum just happened?”

November 7 Harry’s POV

Harry felt like he was one gust of winter wind away from falling over.

The lack of sleep was starting to catch up to him as the days grew shorter and the nights colder.

Fighting off sleep to avoid the violent dreams that plagued his mind at night wasn’t helping, because no matter how hard he tried to fight it off with caffeine, or cold showers, he ended up falling into the ominous forest in his mind where he would inevitably watch the girl die the same way that she always did. But the blue haired man was getting bolder, taunting Harry with icy smirks and snide remarks. Harry could never retaliate with his feet frozen solid to the forest ground however. His eyes were always glued to the girl with snow white hair as she cried his name out, his heart breaking in his chest as he accepted the cruel fate bestowed upon them.

She was fighting so hard to stay alive, and it killed Harry knowing that it was never enough. He spent a lot of time trying to convince himself that it was just a nightmare, something that the darkest parts of his brain conjured up to punish him. But with each passing night that he stared into the girls eyes, he started to think that he was wrong about that. His brain didn’t conjure this dream up at all, it was real. It made him feel insane, of course, thinking that some recurring dream with two strangers in it wasn’t a dream at all, but a reality. But he couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was a premonition, not a figment of his imagination.

That girl was real, and Harry cared for her.

They weren’t just friends in the nightmares, they were lovers.

At this point, he was considering committing himself to an insane asylum so that he didn’t end up accidentally telling someone about these dreams. If he told anyone, they would surely look at him like he was loony, and he couldn’t really blame them. It was a weird situation, and he didn’t have anyone he could confide in.

“Why do you look like you’re in pain?” Niall nudged Harry’s foot with his own, lifting his pint up to his lips as Harry snapped out of his thoughts. “You’ve been staring at the table for like, five solid minutes. Do you have heartburn or something?”

“I don’t have heartburn, you prick.” Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing his own pint from the table before he tipped it back. “I’m still upset with you for sleeping with my sister.”

“Here it goes.” Mitch inhaled, trying not to laugh as he reached for his whiskey. “Styles, I don’t think talking about your sister’s sex life with your best mate, while your drunk, is a good idea.”

“Yeah, what Mitch said.” Niall shifted uncomfortable as Harry slapped on a fake scowl, sending it towards the blonde boy. “You’ve already threatened to punch me-”

“I’m still going to.” Harry said plainly. “Of all the women in the world, you had to pick my sister.”

“Mitchell, help me.” Niall whined, glancing over at the brunette with desperate eyes. “I don’t want to die tonight.”

“I don’t think that I can help you.” Mitch shrugged his shoulders, catching the wink Harry sent his way. “He might actually kill you.”

“I might.” Harry shrugged, sipping at his beer. “I might save it for a rainy day, who knows?”

“Jesus.” Niall scoffed, shaking his head. “I better call my Ma and tell her I love her then.”

“Niall, I’m kidding.” Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I’m happy for you both. I think you’re good for her, even if I hate to admit it.”

“Really?” Niall let out a sigh. “Because I really like her.”

“I know that you do.” Harry nodded, sitting his pint glass on the table. “And I know that you love Noah just as much as you love her.”

“I really do.” Niall’s lips curved up in a secret smile. “They make me happy.”

“And the end of the day, that’s all we can really ask for.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. "But I don't want to hear anymore about how you bruise like a peach or what you get up to in your spare time.”

“That’s fair enough.” Niall nodded.

Harry lifted his pint glass, downing what was left before he stood up.

“Where are you going?” Niall’s brows furrowed. “It’s still early!”

“I’ve got to open the shop tomorrow.” Harry reached for his jacket, sliding his arms in. “I don’t want to be late….or hungover.”

“I think you’ll already be hungover.” Mitch laughed. “I can open if you’d like me to, I don’t have any plans tomorrow.”

“Nah, you spend time working on those guitar skills, shredder.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked at Niall. “And you, treat my sister to breakfast or something you lowlife.”

“Will do.” Niall laughed, his cheeks turning pink. “We’ll drop something off for you with Noah?”

“I’d like that.” Harry mumbled, offering Niall a tight lipped smile. “Alright lads, you be good.”

“Same to you.”

Harry waved at his friends before he made his way out of the pub.

He walked towards the end of the street, looking both ways before he ran across.

His building wasn’t far from the pub, but the wind whipping around made it feel like a twenty mile trek in the tundra. Harry was shivering by the time he made it into his building, his feet carrying him slowly through the lobby and towards the lift. He stepped in, using his elbow to press the button to his floor as his teeth started to chatter. The landlord was going to get an earful about the temperature inside the building tomorrow, Harry would make sure of it.

He stepped off of the lift, fumbling his fingers around in his pocket until he made contact with his keys. He pulled them out, glancing down until he found the one that opened his flat. As he walked down the hall, his mind went back to the girl. He could almost smell her familiar scent in the air, berries and clove filling his senses with every step he took. He was sure one of the ladies that lived down his hall was burning a winter candle with the same scent.

It was the only explanation.

When he made it towards his door, he heard a soft gasp.

He lifted his head up, his eyes growing wide as he saw the girl from his dreams standing right across the hall from his flat. She was staring at him, her pine colored eyes wide with disbelief and her berry red lips parted with shock. Her hair wasn’t as white as he remembered, more honey colored tones tied into the strands to compliment her skin. Harry stopped in his tracks, his heart slamming against his rib cage as she blinked rapidly, shaking her head as if she were trying to bring herself back into reality.

Harry swallowed around the nerves in his throat as he took one step forward.

Just as his foot landed on the ground, she fell to the floor.

Harry felt like he lost all of the air in his lungs, vivid visions of her body falling through the ice playing through his mind. But this time, he could do something about it. He rushed forward, grabbing her arms with his palms to lift her up as her head lolled back. She was limp, her body heavy and warm in his hands. He was shocked by just how warm she was, her skin was usually ice cold by the time that he got to her. He felt the tears blurring his eyes as she lay there.

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Get up!”

Her eyes snapped open at that, the dark shade of green greeting Harry like a breath of fresh air.

He was stone cold sober when he yanked her against his chest, holding her tight in his arms.

“I can’t breathe.” She gasped out, her hands tapping his shoulders. “Harry?”

He pulled back, staring back into her eyes with pink cheeks.

“How are you here?” He asked her, licking over his lips.

“Um, I don’t really have an answer for any of it.” She cleared her throat, glancing away from his gaze with shy eyes. “I just kind of...ended up here?”

“Did you take a taxi or something?” He asked, confused when she laughed. “Do you live in London? Have you always lived in London?”

“To be honest with you, I think that I teleported here.” She said slowly, like she was unsure of the response he might have. “That might sound insane to you. I know you only ever see stuff like that in Dr. Who, but um, it’s kind of real?”

“You sound like a mad woman.” He whispered, his eyes flitting over the features of her face, taking it all in. “But for some reason, I believe you.”

“If you think that was mad, wait until we dive into the fun stuff.” She said softly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here, if I’m being honest with you.”

Harry nodded, loosening his grip on her arms.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asked her. “Or do you plan on teleporting back to wherever you came from?”

“Um, that’s my flat.” She pointed to the door just next to them. “I’m staying there until...well, until I can go home.”

Harry suddenly felt drunk again, his mind swirling with information as he let go of her.

She sat up on her own, clearing her throat as she brushed her palms over her thighs.

“I’m gonna get off of the floor now.” She said softly. “Is that okay?”

“Just promise me that you won’t faint again.” He felt his brows pull together in concern, panic flashing into his heart. “Please?”

“I will try not to.” Her laughter still sounded like bells. “Um, so, I know your name-”

“But I’ve never learned yours.” He finished for her, standing up before he offered his hands out to her. He pulled her up, pressing his hand against her hip when she stumbled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” She offered him a smile, one that genuinely comforted him. “I’m Holland.”

Holland.

“Holland, baby, please breathe.”

“I did know that.” He cleared his throat, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck as his cheeks grew warm. “I guess….I guess I forgot about that part of my dream.”

“Our dream.” She pressed her lips together, fighting off a smile. “I have the same one.”

“How do you know both of our dreams are the same?” He asked, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Maybe mine is different from yours.”

“I think I die in each version of the dream, Harry.” She said softly, trying not to laugh when his face paled. “But, I’m here now, in the flesh!”

“But you’re going to die.” He said slowly, anger rising in his chest. “That’s not funny.”

“No, I’m not going to die.” She was firm with her response, holding her chin up proudly as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I refuse to die like that, it just won’t do.”

“I don’t think you can control it.” Harry said, his voice bleeding with frustration and disbelief. “You are a mad woman.”

“I’m not.” Her berry lips pushed out into a pout, and Harry nearly dropped to his knees. “I’m very smart, and extremely sane, Harry. I just….I happen to know things that you don’t!”

“Things like teleportation?” He asked, his brows lifting towards his hairline. “You look different, did you know that?”

“No.” She said. “Why do I look different?”

“Your hair is normally white.” He lifted his hand, grabbing a few strands gently. “And your skin is normally like the snow.”

“I suppose it would be weird if I walked around London looking like that, eh?” She asked. “I can’t exactly be myself in this world.”

Harry knew what that was like.

“I think you’ll be just fine.” He whispered. “You’re still beautiful.”

“Well, I should probably go inside.” Holland said softly. “I’m quite knackered from all of that teleporting and stuff.”

Harry felt panic start to rise in his chest again.

She was leaving him.

What if something happened to her while he was just across the hall?

He would never forgive himself.

“You’re…” He felt his palms get sweaty. “Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I’m sure.” She nodded. “I’ve done a lot of research on this place, so I think I’ve got the hang of everything.”

“This place, as in the complex or this place, as in earth?”

“This place as in London.” She snorted. “I’m from Earth, gumdrop. I just come from a very small, remote island near the arctic.”

“Are you really from earth?” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Because I could have sworn you fell from heaven.”

Harry watched her cheeks glow like they did in the beginning of his dream.

“You’re cheeky.” She said softly. “I learned what that means by watching Skins. By the way, those children should all be on the naughty list, they’re horrid.”

Harry froze, watching Holland as she shook her head.

“You still believe in Santa?” He asked her softly, as if he were afraid he would startle her.

“Oh, yeah.” Her eyes grew wide, but she was quick to look away. “Who doesn’t?”

“Most of the world.” He cleared his throat. “Most of us don’t even like Christmas.”

“Gumdrop, by the time I’m through with you, I’ll have you singing Christmas Carols with Santa himself.”

“If there’s one thing you should know about me, Holland-” His voice was low as he spoke, frustration bubbling in his chest.. “It’s that I will never love Christmas or anything that has to do with that bloody holiday.”

He pulled his hand back, turning on his heel before he slipped his key into the lock.

He could feel Holland’s eyes on his back, but after the comment he made, he needed a little time to cool down. Sure, Holland was someone that he had dreamed of meeting for most of his life, but he didn’t really know her as a person. He drew the line at Christmas with anyone, and she was no exception to his strict rule. He pushed into his flat, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Seconds later, he dropped his head against the door with a heavy sigh.

“Maybe this is another dream.” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Wake up, Harry.”

But when he opened his eyes, he was still standing in his apartment, and he could still smell the sweet scent of berry and clove.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x ofc #harry styles original fic #harry styles x original female character #harry fic #harry au #harry writing #my writing #harry fanfiction #harry fluff #harry x ofc #harry styles holiday fic #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles christmas

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pepsi-beat · 3 years

Text

chapter 1. the prey

pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

series title: The Way

word count: 2,8K

warnings: angst maybe?, The Mandalorian s2 finale spoilers, canon typical violence, blood and injuries, 3rd person pov, Din Djarin pov, lack of “Y/N”, reader is called “Girl”, amnesia, reader's species is unknown, a little ooc Din Djarin

summary: Greef Karga assured him it was an easy job. Find a woman. Get her to the husband she ran away from. And that's it. But... not exactly.

a/n: Hello there! I’m pretty new when it comes to writing and publishing here. I hope you like what I have for you. I write it so I could get away from my uni responsibilities. I don’t know if I can finish this, but I really liked idea. So we will see.

Chapter 1

THE PREY

Naboo. A sparsely populated planet located in the Mid Rim in the Chommell sector of the Naboo system. Occupied the third position in the system, provides a standard gravity and breathable atmosphere. It had three moons.

Naboo was known for its natural and cultural values. The inhabitants were famous for their beautiful, perfectly refined products that made an impression throughout the galaxy. People did well here, the place has always seemed completely cut off from the rest of the Galaxy. Slow, free, peaceful.

Din wasn’t used to chasing his victims in places like Naboo. Usually he had to wade through the Outer Rim Territories. Through inhospitable and harsh planets, where survival required quite a bit of cunning or a deep pocket stuffed with credits.

He landed a Dragonfly on a meadow covered with lush green grass and colorful flowers. He turned off the engines, put the computer to it hibernate mode, then he turned with a soft sigh to the co-pilot's seat. His heart tightened with fear as he found it empty. But before he could jump up from his seat and start searching, he painfully remembered that it didn't make sense. His throat tightened with regret, and he walked briskly through the cockpit and then through the hull to the stern, where he made his way out.

Two months have passed since the events on the Imperial cruiser. Two extremely long and surprisingly lonely months.

As the Jedi departed, taking Grogu with him, Din had to deal with the issue of the Darksaber. Bo-Katan refused to take it and Din refused to keep it. Finally, they decided to duel. Bo-Katan chose a time and place – some deserted rocky planet. Din knew that if he had given up the fight, the Mandalorian woman would have been offended and wouldn’t have taken that damned saber. On the other hand, he was reluctant to fight the woman, but he quickly realized that all his fears were baseless.

Bo-Katan was highly trained warrior, so the fight was levelised. It took a long time, but in the end the woman fairly won, becoming the new ruler of Mandalore. Before they finally departed, she asked him one more time to join her.

Din refused, but promised that if she needed his help, he would come back. Then Boba Fett left him and Cara on Nevarro, where the marshal kept her word. She called for New Republic, who took Moff Gideon and Din received his prize. Credits. Lots of credits. Suddenly, he became so rich that he could easilly to buy a ship, weapons, and substitute the equipment he had lost with the Razor Crest. And he still has some left.

The Dragonfly was a good ship. Pre-Empire, but was still newer than Razor Crest. After many modifications and modernizations, it could easily compete with newer models. Unlike the Crest, it was much more slender and more agile. The Dragonfly was oblong with a tiny but comfortable kitchenette, refresher, workshop, small armory, several bunks, couches, and a lot of space. The Dragonfly had so much space that Din was uncomfortable. However, he bought this ship, because of all the trouble Cara had gone to find it.

Then, he went back to work as a bounty hunter. He felt that he had to fill the void in his heart with something and returning to hunting seemed to be the best solution in his situation.

Of course, Din visited his tribe's old hideout, but found only useless equipment. The Armorer had left Nevarro some time ago and Din had no idea where she might have gone. So he promised to himself, he would find another Mandalorian’s hideout, but it was easier said than done. Especially after the long time he spent on the run with Grogu.

Din put the beskar spear in its place and returned to the hull. He reached for the control panel, the durasteel door swung open and the platform touched the ground.

Naboo was… different. Brighter, happier, more vivid than any other planet he had ever seen. The colors were more intense, the sun was warmer, the wind was kinder and gentler and the animals were fearless as if they never met a human before and never been hurt by their hands. Naboo was so different that he wanted to take off his helmet and take a deep breath. Get some fresh air, not the air he was breathing through the filters.

Din checked the tracker, the last coordinates of his target and compared it with his current position.

It didn't take long. An hour, maybe two. During this time, he managed to find the X-Wing with which his target had undoubtedly arrived. It was good news. The bad news was that there was another ship in the meadow besides the X-Wing. Din didn't recognize it, but he knew who it belongs anyway. To another bounty hunter. And that was bad news.

He analyzed the footprints. Those belonging to the target were a bit older, unlike those belonging to the bounty hunter.

Blaster shots. Female screams. Din's body reacted instinctively. In one quick move he pulled the blaster from his belt, then ran where the sounds were coming from. The direction coincided with the footprints.

He ran between the trees. The shots stopped, but the closer he got, the better he could hear the conversation. He distinguished between the frightened woman speaking in the basic and the squawk of a Rodian. Finally Din ran into a small clearing. He froze with a blaster aimed at the Rodian when the bounty hunter spotted him and shouted in Rodese.

"Calm down" said Din. ”I'm in the Guild.”

Suca Chodasso, the target by which Din had ventured as far as Naboo, knelt weeping among flowers. She was holding another woman's body in her arms, pressing her face against the hollow of her own neck. The target threaded herfingers into the deceased's disheveled hair. After each sentence she spoke, her mouth touched the top of the girl’s head.

The Rodian said something in Rodese again, but this time he was addressing Suca Chodasso. But he was so nervous that Din found it hard to understand him.

"I have nothing! I didn't steal anything! " Suca called back. Her voice was trembling and her hands were shaking.

It was uncomfortable situation. He tracked down his target, used a lot of fuel to reach Naboo and yet he wasn't the first. There were such situations, but he was still upset that someone else had received the puck.

As the Rodian addressed him urgently, Din sighed so softly that the vocoder couldn’t register it. He nodded, but his eyes went to the crying Suca. She must have felt his gaze as she tore her eyes away from her companion's face and turned her head toward him. Her eyes seemed to be begging him to do something, but Din's hands were tied.

He turned on his heel as there was a soft moan. Din stopped and looked over his shoulder. The girl he had considered to be dead before, moved slightly. She slowly raised one of her limp hands and touched her temples with her fingers. Suca Chodasso looked at her in horror. She leaned in slightly, possibly saying something in her companion's ear, but Din's attention was absorbed by the Radian's next words.

"Leave her! She has nothing to do with it! " Suca sobbed. She bent over the girl, covering her with her body as the Rodian was about to shoot.

Din's blaster smoked slightly as the Rodian's body fell onto the grass. The Mandalorian turned to the huddled women, but he already knew he was late.

Due to Suca's position, when she shielded her companion, the laser pierced the top of her head, passed through her neck and spine. Her body lay pitifully with a smoky, nasty wound that made even Din grimace.

Quick, shallow breaths, which the Mandalorian recognized as signs of an impending panic attack, brought him back. He walked over to Suca Chodasso's body and pushed her unceremoniously aside.

"Easy now," he said. "Take it easy, girl."

The girl didn't even look at him. Her wide eyes stared at the sky. She was gasping for air through her mouth in gusts like someone who was choking. Her face and chest were stained with red blood stains.

Din frowned at the large gash on the girl's temple and the bullet hole on her arm. Right above the heart. The blood that flowed from the wounds was very thick, silver and pearly.

"You’re safe now."

The girl stopped breathing. She froze in an unnatural stillness that worried Din, but as soon as his hand touched her shoulder, she moved again. The girl closed her mouth and eyes and began to breathe calmly. Very calmly. Way too slow.

"Girl?"

"Who are you?"

She looked at him… weirdly. Din couldn't tell what it was, but something was clearly wrong with her. She had pretty eyes, but at the same time they were cold, as if they belonged to a dead man.

The Mandalorian stepped back a bit. He helped the girl get to a sitting position, but he didn't say a word as she looked around. Din flexed all his muscles in preparation for what was to come. He expected screams, crying, and accusations. He had expected the girl to panic, attack him, but she… was calm.

She looked at the dead Suca Chodasso for a long time. She touched her face, then ran her fingers over her own temple as if looking for something there. But she found nothing. Even her wound was on the other side of her face.

"Girl?"

She looked reluctantly at Din. The bounty hunter held out three fingers.

"How many fingers do you see?"

"Three."

He repeated the test two more times and the girl answered well each time.

"What's your name?"

Girl opened her mouth, but said nothing. Only then did panic spread across her face.

She looked at something over Din's shoulder, but before the Mandalorian could say anything, he was thrown to the ground. He heard the sound of a blaster laser hitting a durasteel, so he rolled over, picked up his gun and aimed it. He aimed blindly at first, but as another shot bounced off his chestplate, he knew where to shoot. After a moment, he heard a heavy body fall to the ground, so he rose to his feet.

The girl groaned in pain or surprise. Din looked at her and saw her hand tighten on her arm, more of this weird thick silver blood leaking from between her fingers.

"Wait here," he said. Before the girl could reply, Din was already on his way to the shooting direction.

It was another bounty hunter. Din found the tracker in his pocket. Useless because the target was already dead. But still. The tracker.

The Mandalorian frowned. It was also suspicious. Greef Karga assured him it was an easy job. Find a woman. Get her to the husband she ran away from. And that's it. Even the prize offered for her screamed an easy going.

Din wasn’t interested in why Suca Chodasso was escaping at all, and he never thought about it. Only looking at his target holding this girl in her arms made begin to wonder if it was some kind of scandalous romance. He was willing to believe it.

If it werent for the Rodian's allegations or for the third bounty hunter. Another puck. Another tracker.

He had seen it once before. When he had pledged to track down Grog some time ago and then had bounty hunters on his tail. When he got involved in the affairs of the Jedi and the Empire. He was done. He didn't want to play it again, so a part of him was even glad that the target was no longer alive.

He trow the tracker away, then returned to the girl. She sat curled up where he had left her. Her face in her hands. She sobbed, shook. Hearing his footsteps, she sobbed a little softer, as if she was holding back. Then she wiped the tears with her hands, but that only smeared her silver blood over her skin. She watched as Din knelt beside her and reached a hand to her injured arm.

She must have been hit when she threw Din to the ground. She saved him even though she didn't have to.

"You're hurt…”

"I don't know who I am," she whispered at the same moment. There were even more tears in her eyes. Wide with fear. "I-I don't know. I don’t know. Who am I? My mind is blank.”

She gasped like a wounded animal and hid her face in her hands again. Din could only watch her silently and wonder.

Was she lying to protect herself? Did she know something about the Rodian's allegations, even though Suca Chodasso had clearly stated in her last words that it had nothing to do with her? So why was she protecting him from the shot, then? Wouldn't it have been better for her if Din had died?

Or maybe she really didn't remember? She had been hurt in the head, but it was just a scratch. Not life threatening and certainly not the cause of memory loss. On the other hand, Din knew that people fell ill. He was aware that some of the weak psyche displace more painful events from their memories. But…

He could only watch, bewildered, until he painfully realized the gravity of the situation he was in.

If there were three trackers, there could be more. More bounty hunters might be on the way.

He sighed heavily. He reached for the cape and touched with it the wound on the girl’s head. She jumped back and Din held his hands out in front of him as a sign of peace.

"You're hurt. I want to wipe your blood and see if it's serious.”

But the girl wouldn't let him. She grabbed his hands and squeezed tight. Din wouldn't expect such strength from her.

"Tell me ... W-Who am I? Who is she? Why is she d-dead? Who are you? A-Are you okay? Does anything hurt you? You were shot! Stars! Why were you being shot at?”

Din blinked quickly. He knew his face showed shock and disbelief, which was why he was so grateful for the helmet he had to wear.

"They didn't shoot at me," he said finally, when the girl's insistent gaze became unbearable. "You were.”

"M-Me?” She whispered, her voice breaking.

She released Din's hands and began to back away until she found Suca Chodasso's body. She started to breathe spasmodically, but Din didn't have time for that. He got up. He glanced at Suca Chodasso, thought for a moment what he should do and then walked toward his ship.

"Wait!" The panicked girl exclaimed. "Don’t leave me! Please!”

"I'm done with babysitting.”

"Please!”

Something in her voice made Din suddenly believe her. He stopped. Turned slowly until he came face her. She seemed lost, scared… As if she really didn't know what was going on.

Maybe she was just a victim? Maybe she was an ordinary inhabitant of Naboo and Suca Chodasso met her by chance? Maybe she asked for help and this poor girl agreed to help, not knowing what she write on? Maybe she really didn't know who she was? She was shocked. Suddenly she found herself in the middle of a shootout between three bounty hunters. Din could believe it was too much for her.

He made a decision.

He walked over to the girl and held out his hand. She stared at him with terrified eyes, but didn't hesitate. Din helped her up from the grass, then walked over to Suca Chodasso's body, which he slung over his shoulder. Then he began to head towards the ship again.

"Why… Why are you taking her?” The girl asked with panic in her voice.

Din suppressed a sigh.

"She's wanted. Alive or dead, you will receive a reward for her head.”

"Me?”

This time Din sighed loudly. He wasn't happy with the fact that he had to explain himself.

"I don't know what you remember about what happened. But I didn't get her. The bounty hunter who tracked her down is dead. You probably know her, so you will get money as compensation.”

It was cruel. Din knew this, but he had no idea what else to do. So far, this seemed to be the best solution.

He really couldn't take the money for Suca Chodasso. It wouldn't be fair, so he might as well give it to the girl who was definitely the first to deal with the target. And if she ever remembers that she knew her… well. Din hoped to be very far away from the girl then.

The girl fell silent. She really didn't make any sounds. She moved noiselessly, causing Din to keep checking to see if she was following him. But she was there. She walked, wrapping her arms around herself, staring at the toes of her shoes. She was dirty, beaten, wounded. She looked pathetic.

And to think that he should have learned long time ago to not take seemingly easy jobs. They are the most problematic ones.

#din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x fem!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #reader insert #star wars x reader #the mandalorian x reader #star wars imagine #the mandalorian imagine #female reader #x reader

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innittowinit · 4 years

Text

Can you pick me up my uni burnt down?

Relationships: Sleepy bois inc (all fics i write are platonic)

Summary: In which Techno goes to England for University, his building catches fire in the night, and he isn't prepared for the difference in climate between England and California. SBI fluff ensues

Words: 1785

Language: English

Ao3 Link

3:30am was when the alarms went off, pulling all of the students out of their dorms and into the bitterness of the night. Techno had barely had enough time to get himself looking decent before someone was pounding on his door and telling him to hurry up, that it wasn’t a drill, and so he pulled on some socks, not even bothering with finding his shoes, and rushed out towards the hallway to see a very distraught looking girl, they had a few classes together but he’d never bothered to learn het name. She was probably going door to door and grabbing all the people who the alarm hadn’t woken, that was sweet, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty that she felt she had to stay to wait for him though.

And so now he was standing outside, wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt, some shorts and a pair of socks. Being from california, he hadn’t really been prepared for just how bad nights in the UK could get and now he was paying the price as the icy wind numbed his skin and the snow pelted down like there was no tomorrow. He looked back at the school as an administrator read off names from a register, there were larger than life flames bursting out of windows in the west building.

“Techno Blade? Is Mr Blade here?” “Present!”

After getting himself marked in he was left to himself, sitting on a bench that was wet with newly brushed off snow. Most of the other Students were calling parents or family members to come collect them, which only really filled him with dread. It was just now setting in that the school wasn’t just going to let them back indoors once the firemen handled the fire, he’d have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. It wasn’t exactly as if he could just call his parents to pick him up when he was in a different country completely.

With a sigh, he scrolled through his contact list. He had a lot of friends in the UK but which ones lived the closest and which ones would still be awake at this hour of the night. Tommy was probably the closest but he was not about to ask a 16 year old if he could spend the night at his place. Next was Wilbur, he was about a 30 minute drive away and while he felt absolutely horrible about having to get his friend’s help, he didn’t really have a choice. Hesitantly, he pressed the call button. He wasn’t sure what it was but phone calls gave him so much more anxiety than discord ones, even when he was calling his friend.

After 3 rings, he got an answer.

“Techno!” The brunette’s ever enthusiastic voice chirped, it sounded warm and happy, a stark contrast to the oppressing chill that Techno was enduring right now. “Hellooo..you busy right now?” “Not insanely, I’ve got Phil here helping me with recording the new song though. You good man? Shouldn’t you be asleep? class in the morning and all that” “Yeah about that.. I kinda,, need a place to stay for the night?” he sucked in his breath, anticipating rejection, he hated asking for help like this, it made him feel so weak. “The school is sorta up in flames” “Say the line Techno, it’ll be funny. Say it and i'll come get you” “...wow i wonder if it’s a baby boy or a baby girl”

With a hearty laugh he heard some rustling on the other side of the phone, he heard Phil's voice too but it wasn’t clear. He guessed Will was telling him what had happened anyway. After a while Wilbur spoke to him again. “Phil’s gonna drive out to get you since his car’s heating actually works, you better fit into the same clothes as me since I'm sending him with a change for you. Maybe see if you can wait inside a shop or something while he’s driving; because of the snow, i’d say maybe like 45 minutes till he’s there”

Techno nodded, taking a few seconds to realise that his friends couldn’t actually see him. “Yeah, thanks Will, i’ll let you get back to your song now”

He took his phone away from his ear but he really wished he hadn't, without his friends keeping him company the only thing he had to focus on was how painstakingly cold it was. His arms and legs were both bright red, aching to move them at all, god he regretted his pyjama choice. Pulling his knees up to his chest, feet rested on the bench, then wrapped his arms around his legs, desperate for any kind of warmth as he shivered endlessly. Techno wasn’t quite sure what it was about the cold but it always made him feel very sleepy, that mixed with it being so late at night wasn’t really helping at all

Head pounding, he looked back down to his phone, it was hard to move his fingers and the snow kept wetting his screen, but at least it was a distraction, something he could keep his mind on for at least some of the long 45 minute wait.

======================== ========================

Techno hadn’t even realised it when Phil arrived, he was glad the School administrators were on top of things because he would have just left him sitting there had it not been for a woman that came over to tell him his ‘dad’ was here to get him. Opening his mouth, he intended to spout off about how he wasn’t related to Phil but decided against it. He didn’t want to pick up a fuss and plus, the warm car was right there!

He got up off the bench, only really having his phone with him, and made his way to his friend’s car, his face made an expression of discomfort as he had to walk through the snow in wet socks but at least he’d be warm soon.

Phil had already laid a towel out on the seat, sighing in relief, Techno collapsed into the car. Only now realising this was the first time he was meeting his friends in real life. “I’m guessing i got the right guy then?” Phil chuckled, passing Techno a towel to dry off his hair with. “God you must be freezing with that outfit. We can sit here for a bit while you get comfortable”

Though he wasn’t talking an awful lot, Techno was incredibly grateful, here and back meant Phil had to drive over an hour. He’d have to remember to pay him back for gas. “Thanks Phil” he sighed, ruffling his hair with a towel, it felt so much better to be able to dry off and warm up again.

Next he was given a hoodie and some joggers, which Phil promised to close his eyes as he changed into them. The hoodie was fine, it was about the size he would usually buy for himself, but he had to admit the bottoms were a bit long; he’d always thought of himself as tall but didn’t Wilbur claim to be 6’5? Yeah he was sure he wasn’t going to be the tallest there by a couple inches.

The drive back to Wilbur’s was peaceful, they stopped in the Starbucks drive-through to grab them both a warm drink, and while Techno wasn’t really the kind of person to frequent Starbucks, he wasn’t in any position to deny warmth right now. He ended up just getting a hot chocolate, bundling himself up in the seat with the blanket Wilbur had sent with Phil, and finally feeling content. He had imagined meeting his friends so many times, he always imagined he’d end up getting overwhelmed and needing to step out but right now he just felt genuinely happy, he felt cared for. He knew if he was back at home right now, while his parents would have still come for him, they would have complained the entire time about how he was old enough to figure it out for himself, he certainly wouldn’t have been given dry clothes and a blanket.

“You’re really nice Phil” Mumbled a very very sleepy Techno, eyes glazed over as he tried his hardest to stay awake for the entire ride.

Phil just chuckled, the GPS said they were nearly at will’s, he was sure he’d want to see Will before falling asleep anyway, plus he didn't think he’d be strong enough to carry him in. “You gotta stay up a little longer for me mate, we’re almost there, i know you’d usually be sleeping at this time”

Arriving at Wilbur's house felt a little weird, opening the car door hit him with a strong breeze that only seemed to make him even more delirious as he tried to figure out how to stand up without dropping his blanket on the floor. Eventually he got it, bundling it up in his arms he gave a big yawn, becoming a little more awake as he tried to push the sleep away. No matter how much he wanted to just go straight to bed he knew he’d need to talk to his friend first, it would be a little rude to come to his home and not even speak to him.

Since Techno’s hands were full with the blanket that had been wrapped around him, Phil grabbed his towel and wet clothes before locking the car and leading the way inside; by this time it was past 4 in the morning and he was sure they were all just exhausted.

Honestly he wasn’t sure what he had expected Wilbur’s house to look like, it was clean he supposed. Listen, he was an English major, not some kind of house furniture major, he didn't really care what Wilbur had in his home.

“Hey mate, got Tech’” Phil stated as he flopped down on the sofa, leaving Techno to sit on the other side of Will, who had been watching some kind of movie, it looked like maybe it could be one of those sappy musical lovey dovey ones but he really didn’t care that much.

“How you doing Techno Blade?” Will yawned, laying his legs over Techno’s lap and his head on Phil's shoulder.

“Not too bad Wilbur Soot, what are you watching?” Another yawn, he ran a hand through his pink hair, chucking his crown onto the floor as he unfolded the blanket he had been snuggled into during the car ride, spreading it out across the three men.

“No clue, just wanted to wait up for you” The brunette closed his eyes, still awake but barely

“You're an idiot”

#sbi #sleepyboisinc #sleepyblr #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #fanfic

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winryofresembool · 3 years

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 27

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: The exam season is underway (yet somehow I don’t mention the exams all too many times...)

A/N: Yay, I'm back with this fic!! I think I can promise a bit more regular updates at least in the near future, but I will be starting to work longer hours possibly starting from next week so I will have a bit less free time then. I am still determined to keep up with my 500ish words per day goal so it should cause too much delay!

That's that, I hope you guys are as happy to return to this universe as I am! As usual, please let me know what you think :) This fic is about to take my longest fic position from Love Can Melt the Ice, so knowing that there are people who care about it really means a lot to me!

Words: 2393

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

Leo would have been lying if he had claimed that everything went back to completely normal after the talk with Calypso. Sure, they both really tried harder to act as neutral and friendly as possible around each other; whenever they were at home at the same time, they chatted casually about how things were going at work and at the university, their latest TV show or music discoveries, or some silly thing one of their friends had said or done recently. Sometimes they even watched something together or cleaned the common area together. However, the earlier confessions were never mentioned. On the surface things were ‘just fine’, but the unspoken words and lingering looks spoke for itself. Leo knew things were still heating up under the surface and sooner or later they would have to make some difficult decisions. But until then, he wasn’t going to risk anything by disrespecting the guidelines that they had set during their ‘big talk’, even if it was hard to resist sometimes.

One evening Leo found Calypso studying for her upcoming exams on the common area couch. She was wearing a pink, tunic length sweater that matched her lip color, and black leggings that hugged her legs tightly (not that he’d ever tell her that he had noticed such things). She had also pulled her now medium length hair into a messy ponytail so it wouldn’t bother her while she was reading, showing her nicely shaped facial features better. Despite noticing all that, Leo’s thoughts soon went to the facts that he had recently learned about his flatmate. Now he knew more about the hardships she had gone through; a dead sister, an abusive, controlling father, being alone all those years and the nightmares she had mentioned while drunk. Yet, somehow there she was, having escaped her father’s grip and looking perfectly content doing something as boring and normal as studying for exams. The girl was way stronger than he had earlier given her credit for, and Leo admired her capability to stay so calm; he wasn’t so sure the ghosts of his own past would leave him alone that easily.

“Hi,” he finally said before Calypso noticed that he’d been standing there just watching her far too long despite the rules they had set. “What are you reading?”

Calypso showed him the book. If she was surprised to see him, she hid it well. “A collage of Frenchmen’s experiences at the front lines during World War II. I know. A very cheerful way to finish the day.” She grimaced.

“Huh? I thought you were mostly focusing on older history? I didn’t know you study that stuff too,” Leo noted, shifting from one foot to another.

“Well, they do require us to have a good enough understanding of the newer events as well,” Calypso replied, now looking at him directly. For some reason that one look managed to make chills go down Leo’s spine. “It is true, though, that I am more interested in ancient history. There’s so much we still don’t know about those times and I want to be able to discover more.”

“I see,” Leo said. “I think I understand what you mean. I am constantly hoping to discover new ways to create things that will be useful for all of us. Flying dragons that use energy drinks as their energy source? How epic would that be?” Excitement surged through him when he simply thought about it.

“Isn’t that a bit out there?” Calypso asked, but Leo didn’t miss the amused glint in her eyes. “And what if everyone had flying dragons and that would cause horrible air accidents? I don’t know about you but to me they don’t sound very safe.”

“Sunshine, what’s life without some danger?” Leo questioned.

“Hmm, let me think: safe?” Calypso retorted.

“Ouch. Well, I don’t think I have time to invent flying dragons any time soon, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Leo reassured her, but now that the idea had been planted into his head, he decided to return to it some day in the future. Hopefully when he would be able to handle fire.

“That’s a relief,” Calypso replied. “Speaking of your inventions… have you decided what you’re going to do about your studies? The last time I asked you said you haven’t been in contact with your professor yet.”

That was a question Leo had been dreading for. He preferred to not talk about that topic unless he had to, but the truth was that he was still quite unsure about being able to continue. However, he hadn’t made any final decisions yet.

“I’ll… I’ll keep working to overcome my fear,” he responded vaguely. “I think I’ve made some small progress during our sessions. If I can keep that going, I may be able to retake the test next year. Small steps, you know.” In reality, so far he had managed to stay close to a small, burning candle for a short period of time without freaking out, but he still didn’t want to try the matches whenever Calypso suggested it. There was still a long way to go before he’d be able to use all the machines he needed during lab classes and at work.

“Okay,” Calypso said, but to Leo she sounded a bit unconvinced. Her voice got more reassuring, though, when she added: “You know that you can ask for my help any time you need it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Leo nodded. “And same right back at you. I mean, you can ask me. If you need anything.” For some annoying reason he managed to only get stuttering out of his mouth at that moment. “Even if you simply want me to make you a miniature dragon in the middle of the night. It’s fine. I’d totally make it.”

“And why would I want you to make me a miniature dragon in the middle of the night?” Calypso looked at him questioningly. Before Leo managed to answer, her face softened into a smile and she added: “I really appreciate the thought, though. It feels so different… in a good way… to have people in my life who genuinely support me. I haven’t had that, well, since I got separated from my mom.”

She sat a bit straighter on the couch, her gaze going back and front between Leo and her book, and Leo wondered if she was debating if she should reach for him and touch his shoulder or something. Maybe even hug. One side of him wished she would just go for it. But that would have violated their newly made rules and neither wanted to make things even more complicated than they already were. They simply kept staring at each other for a while, as if trying to read each other’s thoughts, but finally Calypso sighed and turned her focus back on her book, closing it.

“I didn’t realize it’s already this late…” She said, adjusting her hair a bit with the hand that wasn’t holding the book. “I still need to finish an assignment for tomorrow.”

She stood up and started walking towards her room, but when she got past Leo, her arm briefly touched his. Leo’s arm was still tingling after Calypso closed the door behind her.

…

A few days later, Leo was still thinking of that incident when he almost fell over a big rock that was standing on his road. He and Jason were currently having a well deserved evening off after finishing their last exams of the semester earlier that day (Leo felt like he had at least succeeded with the calculations but his essay writing was a bit sloppy) and in honor of that they had decided to go for a long jog and after that have a big, unhealthy meal in one of their favorite pizza places. While they were on their way there, Jason had been explaining something about his holiday plans when Leo had zoned out, and Jason had to grab his arm so he didn’t fall.

“Hey, man, you OK?” Jason asked, frowning. “What just happened there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m OK.” Leo brushed some dust off the sleeves of his coat. “I was just… thinking. And didn’t notice the rock on the road.”

“Hmmm, what got you that thoughtful?” Jason inquired. “I bet you didn’t even hear what I just said.”

“You know I have a pretty nasty case of ADHD, sometimes I just zone out randomly,” Leo said defensively, not wanting to admit aloud that recently he had been even more distracted than usual because of a certain flatmate of his. “And no, I didn’t hear you.”

“Alright,” Jason shrugged. “I was telling you that Piper’s dad has invited us to visit him over the break. I’m not sure yet if we are going, though. Piper didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it. Sure, she wants to see him, but she suspects he’s still working most of the time so it would be the same to just call instead of traveling all the way to LA.”

“Mmmh,” Leo mumbled, trying hard to stay in the present moment. “I’m going to be at Waystation during the break so if you guys decide to stay, we can still hang out.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know what we decide to do. That wasn’t all, though…” Jason continued, his face becoming concerned. “I think Piper has seemed quite distant lately, and not just when we’ve been talking about that trip. Sometimes I worry that she’s gotten bored of me, or something.”

“No way, man!” Leo exclaimed. “I’ve seen you guys together often enough to know that she loves you. Maybe she’s just going through a rough phase or something.”

Jason didn’t seem quite convinced. “I guess so. It’s just that usually she tells me directly what’s bothering her. This… keeping things inside her isn’t like her.”

“Maybe you just need to give her some time,” Leo suggested. “It’s like me with Cal; I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut more often and in exchange she has slowly started opening up to me more recently.”

“She has? That’s great!” Jason cheered up. “How is it going with you two anyway? I heard some things about the Halloween party aftermath…”

“Nothing happened after the party!” Leo yelped, raising his hands. “Whatever Piper has told you, all lies.”

“Really? So you two wouldn’t have kissed if Piper hadn’t interrupted you guys?” Jason raised his eyebrow.

If Leo’s cheeks hadn’t already been red from the jogging, he certainly would have blushed. “Um… well… the point is that we didn’t. Besides, we’ve set some rules that we’re supposed to follow because we don’t wanna make our co living too complicated.”

“So there is something going on between you two and you are acknowledging it,” Jason teased. “You wouldn’t need to set any rules otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo muttered. “If you must know, we did admit that we like each other after the party.”

“But that’s great!” Jason exclaimed.

“It feels pretty crazy,” Leo replied. “Sometimes I wonder why she likes me, but maybe the Bad Boy Supreme’s magic is stronger than I thought.”

Jason snorted at his comment. “I don’t know Calypso as well as you do but I doubt it’s the so-called Bad Boy Supreme side that she cares about. You pretend to be all cool and try to seem like you don’t care about what’s happening around you but I think you do that only because you care too much. Maybe Calypso has noticed that as well.”

“Dude, you’ve been hanging out with Piper too much.” Leo shook his head. “That’s something she would say. ” “Well, she’s not wrong. Anyway, what happened after the big confession?”Jason asked curiously.

“We’re not together if that’s what you’re asking, ” Leo denied immediately. “I just mentioned the rules, remember? We wouldn’t need them if we had decided to go down that road.” “Ouch… but why? Why didn’t you just decide to do it?” Jason wanted to know.

“For some stupid, noble reasons,” Leo grunted. “I’m not gonna go into the details because it’s up to her to talk about it, but long story short, she thinks it’s safer that way. I think she’s afraid of hurting one of us.”

“And do you think she’s right?” Jason inquired.

“I… No! I’ve told her I can handle it. But I’m not gonna push it - believe me, Jo and Emmie have given me long lectures about respecting women’s boundaries. If Cal and I wanna keep living together, I have to let it be.”

“Yeah, I can see your point.” Jason nodded.

“Besides…” Leo added after a moment, his face falling as he thought about his past. “Bad things tend to follow me. Who is to say that I wouldn’t be the one getting her into trouble?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because when have I ever been successful with anything I’ve done?” Leo asked in return.

Jason seemed to finally understand what event Leo was really referring to. “You’re still beating yourself for things that happened years ago?”

“Why do you think I’m not capable of going to some of the lab classes? Because I simply think that skipping is fun and I don’t care whether I pass it or not?” There had been a time when Leo hadn’t cared about his school success, but back in those days he hadn’t cared about much else either. Now that he had dreams and things to live for, he hated the idea that anyone would think he’d throw it all away just because he could. His new family deserved better than that for what they had done for him.

“No, no, I was not thinking that! You just never talk about it so I assumed… whatever.” Jason didn’t want to make Leo even angrier so he decided it was better to change the topic. “Maybe we should talk about something else. I still hope that you and Cal will work it out eventually.”

“Yeah. I hope so too. Same for you and Piper.” The friends had gotten close to their destination, so Leo exclaimed quickly: “Hey, I’m smelling the pizza now! Whoever is last at the door pays!”

“That’s a bad deal because you know I’m faster than you. I train every day!” Jason pointed out but soon sprinted after him.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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srhlsx · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER 1

master | ch. 2

The rush of the train thundering past made your loose hair whip around violently, blocking your vision for a moment but making you laugh anyways. You smiled up at the figure standing before you as they lifted their hands to brush the hair out of your face, their deep laugh joining yours in a chorus.

The scene was like something out of a movie. A young couple, gazing into one another’s eyes longingly, the sunset behind them as they stood on the platform of a train station. The boy’s bags were piled at his feet, a few duffel bags of clothes he would need for the first few months of school, he’d come back home and be able to switch out for other more weather-appropriate clothes in the future. The girl stood bundled in her coat and the arms of the boy she looked at with love.

To anyone watching, it would make them smile. Goodbyes were hard, no doubt, but they were a part of life. At least the couple was young so they had time to figure out how to make things work.

To you, living in that moment, it quickly became a nightmare.

As you looked up into the eyes of your boyfriend of almost two years, you couldn’t help but feel sad that his time to leave you was finally here. You’d both been counting down the days until his departure for University; him in excitement, you in dread. Of course you were excited for this chapter of his life to begin, and it wasn’t like you’d never see each other again. You could easily visit, having already planned out a few times when you would, and in a year’s time you’d be joining him on campus anyways - that was always the plan.

“Did you grab all the stuff your mom left you?” You asked, glancing down at the bags at your feet.

You heard the hum of confirmation from deep in his chest, “Yup.”

“She’d kill me if she knew I let you go without-”

“(y/n), I need to talk to you about something.” He interrupted, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you an arms length away from him. He was still smiling so you didn’t suspect that anything bad was coming. His smile had become like an anchor for you, keeping you grounded in a chaotic world where things so often seemed overwhelming and out of order. You’d grown dependent on that smile, often letting it dictate your own happiness.

You smiled back at him, encouraging him to continue what he needed to say. You expected a declaration of love, a final statement he wanted to get off his chest in person to confirm what you both already knew.

You did not get that.

“I think we should break up.”

You paused, unsure if you heard him right. Break up?

“Yeah,” He said again, you must’ve spoken your thoughts out loud without knowing. “I’ve been thinking about it, and with me going away it just makes the most sense, ya know?”

No, you didn’t know. What about the plan? You had both talked about these things, you were going to be together. It was going to work. He must’ve taken your silence for acceptance as he continued to talk and your chest grew tighter.

“I mean, there are going to be a lot of new people for me to meet and I just don’t know if having a girlfriend in high school will be good for me - socially.” He spoke like what he was saying was totally to be expected, like you knew this was coming and there was no way it could be a surprise. “I just don’t want anything to hold me back.”

Hold him back? Your thoughts continued to swirl in your mind, trying to come up with any logical reasoning for where this was coming from and could you have prevented it. Just last night you’d been at the goodbye barbeque with his family, laughing and having a good time like you always did, and nothing seemed to be different.

You must’ve been so lost in your thoughts because he shook you gently to bring your attention back to the real world. The jostling made you look up from where you were mindlessly staring at your feet, to his eyes that were looking down at you with an amount of pity you’d hoped to never see from him.

“Let’s be honest here, (y/n),” He chuckled condescendingly, tilting his head to look at you like a parent explaining something to their confused child as he gripped your chin with his fingers. “It’s kind of silly anyways to expect a guy in his first year at Uni to just wait around for some girl-”

“Some girl?” You repeated, finally gaining a little bit of life back into your senses. You aimed a glare up at him, your eyes squinting and head recoiling just a little bit away from him and out of his grasp. “I am not some girl.”

“Okay, (y/n).” He laughed, patting your head. When he touched you, you flinched and swatted his hand away harshly with a smack. “Whoa, okay, no need to get emotional about it.”

“Emotional?” You question, your voice a harsh whisper as you take a step back. “You wait to do this until you’re literally about to get on the train to leave and you tell me not to get emotional?”

“(y/n),” He sighed, having the audacity to rub his temples like this was something that was stressful for him. “This is why I wanted to wait to do this, I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t make a scene if I did it here, guess I was wrong.”

“Make a scene,” You nearly seethed. You held back from gabbing a pointed finger into his chest, from shoving him away from you, from yelling at him as loud as you could. You could make a scene if you really wanted to, just watch. “Like I’m some emotionally unstable-”

“High school girl, yes.” He interrupted. “You are. And there are girls in college who are going to be mature, experienced, and smart. It just makes more sense.”

You wondered if it made sense last night when he was crying like a baby while he had his dick in your mouth, one last time before he leaves. You decided against asking him that.

The train finally pulled up and he reached down to gather his bags, leaving the conversation to end where it was and nothing more. You didn’t know why you still stood there as he shouldered his way along with the other people getting on the train, as if he didn’t have much care besides finding a place to sit. Maybe a part of you was hoping that he would turn around, realize his mistake and change his mind - or better yet, turn around and tell you it was all a joke.

That moment never came as you saw him sit down in a window seat, finally glancing at you and waving cheerfully as the train pulled away.

You continued to stand on the platform for a few moments, feeling that you needed to collect yourself before moving on. Glancing around, you saw the crowd of people start to clear from around you and you hastily swiped under your eyes before the tears that had finally managed to fall. No fucking crying.

“(Y/n), honey please.” The woman before you was steady in her stance. She was clicking away at the phone in her hands, firing off email after email and message after message. “No crying.”

You looked up at her, eyes watery and lower lip quivering. At that age, you didn’t have the confidence to speak up and say what was on your mind towards either of your parents. You were upset they were leaving again, going somewhere without you to conduct business with another nameless company who was a part of some project you didn’t understand. Even at the young age you were at, you were used to the long periods of time that your grandparents would come stay with you, but for a particular reason this trip was hitting you extra hard.

In a few day’s time you were going to turn another year older and soon after that you were going into high school. Both events marked a big turn in your life, momentous occasions for a young girl and a time when she needed her parents - in particular her mother - most. Behind where your mother stood, your father was scrambling around to gather their bags together for the driver of their nice towncar to pack.

You sniffled, a wet sound as a single tear finally managed to spill over. Your mother stopped, freezing for not even a moment, before looking down at you. “(y/n).” She said sternly, reaching down to wipe at the tears on your cheeks, a surprisingly tender motion. “Crying will get you nowhere.”

You had hoped that maybe if you showed her that you could do as she said she would stay. You sucked up the emotions, forced yourself to stop crying, and nodded your head. If you showed your mother you were strong, she would be proud of you. No crying. No crying. No fucking crying-

To anyone watching, you were a young girl sending the love of her life off on a journey. Your eyes were sad but you probably still had hope for what the future held. But that wasn’t true. You were angry, embarrassed, confused.

The feeling of cold metal scratching at your face was a shock and you held out your hand to look at what you had forgotten you were holding. A set of keys were in your grasp, a charm with your picture hanging from one of the rings. You squeezed your hand into a fist, feeling the pain of the metal almost cut into your skin. He had still expected you to drive his car back to his parent’s house.

As you made that drive, you came to the very sudden and very startling realization. Things really were done. Your plan to coast by this year, your final year of high school, and just focus on your classes and dance and nothing else so you could get to University and be with him? That suddenly meant nothing. You were left with nothing. You were nothing.

You’d done a bang-up job of isolating yourself. Your primary focus had been him for so long that you’d completely blown off many of your friends in your year, earning a solid reputation for yourself as an emotionless bitch who looked down on everyone around her. Great.

Stopped at a stoplight a few blocks from his parents house, you banged your head against the steering wheel repeatedly, screaming loud enough that even though the windows were rolled up people on the sidewalk could hear you. The panic had set in. Why weren’t you enough?

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #hq!! x reader

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baekhyub · 5 years

Text

It’s different - Mark Lee

warnings : car sex, fluff

Alternative Universe Mark Lee Best Friends To Lovers AU!

You and Mark had always been good friends ever since you’d met . You made him when you first joined high school and from then you instantly clicked when you began talking to him as he was the locker next to you

Not to be mean or anything but mark and I have always been at different “social standards” as people awfully would call these days and all my friends would tease me for hanging out with him even though I loved hanging out with Mark more than anyone in the world

He knows everything about me

He knows what i like

He knows what I love

What’s my favourite food

My favourite show

My favourite movie

My favourite words

Basically everything we get each other and i love it but no one else understands it usually calling us a “weird pairing”

I remember when we turned 16 we would always go to the drive in movie theatre and it was so cute but I remember the first time I was really nervous , do I cuddle him ? Or not , do we share snacks or not? Is that just a couple thing

I always turned away the idea that I ever had a crush on mark but I only realised it when he wasn’t around me anymore

We graduated school and promised to talk to each other every day

We went to two different universities in two different places

Sure we talked for a few days but soon after everything stopped

No texts

No FaceTime

No phone calls

No meet ups

That was it

A few months back I tried texting him but someone replied saying they didn’t know who I was and I found out he’d changed his number

I tried to find him on Instagram but i can’t

So I eventually gave up and officially got not so much mad but quite upset at the fact he done that to me

The next week i decide to take a trip back home and I’ve never been more excited to see my family I haven’t seen them in so long being away in a different country for uni

When I arrive I greet everyone and it really truly does feel like home

I decide to hop in my car and drive round the neighbourhood

As I’m driving I lose track of where I am and as I look around I realise I’m in marks street where he lived I notice all the houses and trees in the exact spot from when I used to come to visit mark usually taking the bus and finally I reach marks house . I stop outside and look for a minute reminiscing the past and how much fun we would have together for basically nothing I start to tear up but quickly wipe away my tears , why am I so affected by this he’s just a stupid boy

When I am getting ready to drive away that’s when I see him

He walks out his house

He has blonde hair now he must of dyed it

He’s wearing a shirt with a black denim jacket and black ripped jeans with a nice pair of boots but where is his glasses he would always wear ?

He looks good he looks really good, better than I remember

I’m considering going out to see him

Is that weird ?

We haven’t spoke in a very long time

Does he even remember me ?

And he walks back in his house after getting something out his car

I decide I’m gonna do this what’s the worst that could happen , we’re older now and more mature

I park my car and I nervously step out

I come to his fence and pause for a second contemplating if I should really do this

I decide yes just do it

I open the gate and walk up the steps and finally I am on his porch for the first time in 5 years

I knock the door and I stand there nervously

fumbling with my own hands and then becoming sweaty out of my nerves

I feel my heart beat out of my chest as I hear him walking towards the door

He opens it rather quickly and then looks at me for a second and then goes

“Y/N OH MY GOD HI”

He practically shouts before leaning in to give me a hug

I hesitate for a second before deciding to hug him back

“I’ve not seen you in forever Mark”

“Yeah i know it’s been a long long time”

“You changed your number” I asked with a slight show of annoyance in my voice making sure he would understand

“Oh yeah sorry I got a new contract for my phone and everything and I couldn’t message you any way to tell you I had a new number so sorry”

“I was really hurt about that you know”

“y/n I’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you”

“how can you make up ignoring someone for 5 years”

“You’re right thats not forgivable” he pauses for a minute, the air silent and things starting to be awkward

until he finally speaks up again

“Wanna go see a movie”

“At the drive in” ?

“Yes at the drive in”

“It’s still open”?

“Yes I actually checked yesterday that’s when i got back”

“You checked why”

“Just to remember old times you know”

“I get you”

“So tonight for the movie”

“Yes that sounds great”

“I’ll pick you up later”

“See you”

I rushed to my car I was excited? nervous? kinda scared? I don’t know how I feel I have mixed emotions right now

It was finally later on in the evening and Mark should be coming to pick me up soon

I wore a pair of leggings and an oversized jumper with some trainers but did my makeup nice

Just as I finished applying my lipgloss I heard a knock on my door...it must be him

I quickly grab my bag and head to the door

“Hey”

“Hey y/n you look nice”

“Oh it’s nothing”

I closed and locked the door behind me and I got into his car which was definitely upgraded from when what he would drive when we were in high school

we arrived at the drive in still as busy as ever and parked in our spot, it was a horror movie, Mark and I’s favourite

he reclined the chairs back and we sat down together in the back seat feat up on the chairs in front

We already brought snacks from both sides and had them placed in front of us

As the movie began me and mark didn’t really talk

Both of us definitely too nervous to speak

But I decided to crack the ice

“Feels weird doesn’t it”

“Yeah it does, feels like yesterday we were 16, I miss those days”

“Me too , so much, you don’t understand”

“You know I literally loved you y/n”

“I love you too mark your my best friend”

“No” he laughed “I had the biggest crush on you”

I went bright red “oh really”

“Yes i would die every time we hung out”

“That’s funny”

“Sorry are you weirded out by that, damn I knew I shouldn’t of said anything”

“No Mark It’s funny because I really liked you too”

“REALLY”

“Yes dummy I always liked you I can’t tell you how devastated I was when we didn’t talk anymore it broke my heart”

“Me too y/n but I thought the only way would be to distance my self from you so it would hurt less and it worked for a while but now I’m back here” mark paused for a moment to hold my hand, “I’m back here with you in the drive in, our place, where we would spend countless weekends and we would sit here and cuddle and talk about everything together”

“Mark”

“Yeah” he leaned in and looked down at my lips

I looked down at his before looking into his eyes and then I closed my eyes and kissed him , I finally did it I’m kissing Mark Lee, my crush since forever, the moment feels unreal, my dreams coming true

He pulls away and then pulls me onto his lap

I sit on top of him kissing him more roughly and I start grinding down onto him(feeling confident) he grabbed onto my hips and starting rocking me back and forth against him until I felt him go hard through his tight ripped jeans he threw his head back onto the window on the back seat and I took this opportunity to kiss up his throat and I started to bite leaving hickeys down his neck “fuck y/n”

He sat up and lifted his shirt over his head and he did the same with me, lifting my jumper off and then quickly un doing my bra and my nipples went hard instantly as they hit the cold mark leaned forwards and started to bite my right nipple and then sucked on it making me whine he then did the same with my left driving me insane

He started to leave hickeys down the valley of my breasts and then trails kisses until he reaches my mouth again kissing me passionately

“I want you to ride my baby girl but we gotta be quiet”

“Okay” I reply quickly wanting to get into it

Mark helps me taking my leggings and underwear off, not caring who sees, and then I help him take his jeans off , as soon as they are off I start palming him through his underwear and I can see he is already wet leaking pre cum

“Fuck y/n stop teasing and take them off”

I take them off painfully slow just to tease him even more

I run my hand down his length and lightly squeeze him before I line myself up with his length

“Are you ready”

“I have been for a long time”

I slide down onto him moaning when he finally fits all the way in

I start to bounce on his dick gradually getting faster as I grip onto the headrest for support

Mark and I moan in sync but we’re trying to be as quiet as we can trying to make sure no one can hear us

Mark reached his hand out and starts to rub my clit and that’s when my hips twitch and I lose my fast pace

“FUCK MARK” I say as quietly as I can

He starts to rub faster trying to make me cum

“I’m gonna cum mark”

“Try told it in for a bit longer”

“I don’t know if I can”

Just then mark takes his hand away and grabs onto my hips fucking up into to me to try chase his own release

I start to clench around him really starting to give up

“Okay cum now”

I cum all over his dick and he pulls out and cums on my stomach pumping his length to get the last bits out

Luckily mark had towels so we cleaned ourselves up and got changed by the time we done that the movie had come to an end and we left to drive back to his house

“Well that was the best time I’ve ever had there”

“Not for me” I smirk

“WHAT how, was I not good enough”

Mark was concerned but I was laughing just teasing him

“My favourite time is when you got out the car and tripped in the mud , you were COVERED it was absolutely hilarious”

“IT WAS NOT”

#mark lee #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct imagines #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #nct fanfic #nct127 #nct127 smut #superm #kpop smut

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 3 years

Text

Maou-jou 9 - 12 (FINAL) | Idolish7 s2 10 - 15 (FINAL) | SLS 2

I’ve been holding off new seasonals because of other things, but after I post this I’ll have enough time to get around to them. That’s why I can’t guarantee winter 2021 seasonal tags on this post...maybe the next one will have them...

Maou-jou 9

…it seems shopping channels even are the same in the demon world.

Now even the demons have quests! (The frame is different to the princess’s, though.)

Oh! The quest failed.

Neo Alraune: in flower language, “the 2nd coming of happiness”. The worry from a little while ago was, “I’m worried about my brother.” The worry from recently: “I didn’t think about being happy that the princess didn’t kill my brother.”

The penguin demons are pretty cute!

Don’t you know how parents forbid children from sleeping until they finish all their homework? Must be something like that.

Yoku ganbarimashita! – Syalis worked hard!

LOL, mental age: 3. Poseidon likes cute things…I can’t read a lot of this…the hardsubs cover the JPN text.

They…both succeeded! (…LOL?)

Maou-jou 10

Owarinocity = Endopolis. It’s a good equivalent, if I do say so myself.

…oh yeah. What happened to Alraune? Update: There she is!

Also, that blonde guy in the infomercials doesn’t look too bad…*makes chef’s kiss gesture with one hand* Nice.

I wonder, was Twilight once human…?

LOL, there’s a goat symbol on the cleric’s pyjamas. Also “first time”, LOL.

I think they were playing shiritori at one point.

Hanamaru saikou yoku dekimashita!

Maou-jou 11

…How does one “sleep cheerfully”, anyway?

I think I saw Twilight drop something…some kind of paper…

Aw, Twilight blushing is kinda cute!

LOL, 70s shoujo style. Also, “It cannot be!”

Whoa, she cancelled it?!

I read up on this series on TV Tropes…and apparently the Demon King captured the Princess in her sleep.

Kagemusha? Like a ninja or something?

Apparently the Demon Cleric is much older than he looks.

Ooh! Hypnos is back!

A-whatsit really is abysmal levels of stupid!!! (LOL)

Maou-jou 12 (FINAL)

Who’s that one tiny guy occupying one of the Ten Kings’ seats?

*watching after Christmas, about a week after the anime finished* This is not seasonally appropriate!

…*thinks for a second, then spits* That’s the 2nd Nemu in the fall 2020 season!!!

Ooh, the head paladin doesn’t look that bad, either.

“…is it good to be…”

“…has seized the princess!”

“…that demon king is rather cute.” – See? Someone agrees with me.

Anyways, that was a fun series. See you soon!

Idolish7 s2 10

…Back at it after so long…(I can’t help it though – Crunchyroll, per month, is about double the local Funimation sublicensor’s fees, and for much less content that’s worth my money to boot!)

I’ve always thought Momo was like Sasara (HypMic), so seeing him anguished hurts me in the kokoro too…

I know Banri was involved with Re:vale somehow…this must be it.

…Male idols are also popular among men? Is this why there are 8 (!!!) idol anime in winter 2021 alone…? (Also, that’s why HypMic became popular? Multidemographic appeal crossed over with obvious merchandising opportunities?)

It’s kind of scary how Momo stepped the formality towards Yuki like that (to -san).

I guess in his heart Momo still reveres Yuki, some way or another.

The rakugo curtain really sold the moment that they (current Re:vale) were acting like an old married couple.

Yay! Silver Sky is such a cool song! Of course I recognised the intro when it came on.

…I see. The elder Kujo is entrusting his dream to Tenn, so that’s why he banned Aya from seeing Tamaki. However, it’s hard to know what to feel when Aya speaks in the vaguest terms possible.

I think that was a special ending for only this episode. I don’t know what its name is, but I guess I might recognise it on Spotify one day.

Idolish7 s2 11

LOL, Nagi’s reaction.

Considering the ‘rona is getting worse outside our very windows as we speak (type?), I think it’s correct to be concerned about your future right now.

Looking at these narrow streets reminds me of going to eat hotpot at the end of my Japan trip…only Japanese streets look like that, I think. Hong Kong’s streets are more crowded than that and America likes their suburbia.

Of course, when you say hajimemashite (nice to meet you), someone’s gotta say it back, hence the reply.

Considering there are people all over the world watching the Idolish7 anime, I would say you are telling the world about I7, Riku.

Oh! Restart Pointer! There was an MV for that one…I think it was around the time Idolish7’s MVs started getting better.

So this is the context around the new outfits! Cool!

There have been way too many puns about “idol” being…y’know, “ai (love) doll” and stuff like that…

I have one Twitter person who I follow (DejiNyucu, part of the creative team for Autumn’s Journey) because I don’t get much I7 content and they keep mentioning this “Haruki” person…and suddenly a “Haruki the Betrayer” showed up in the graffiti…they might be the same person, I think. Not Deji, but Haruki. Update: Sakura Haruki, perhaps…?

Sougo’s such a bad liar…

Sometimes, the best way to deal with things is to be direct…(I’m not very good at that, I naturally talk in a very roundabout sort of way.)

Sougo with long hair like Yuki would be really pretty… (<- has an obvious thing for guys with long hair)

Idolish7 s2 12

Nagi’s stupid accent is generally what he’s best remembered for (for me), so seeing him speak normally, and do a press conference on top of that, is…impressive.

A kabedon on top of all this! Whoa!

Shibuya 109 parody…? (I’ve seen that once or twice – parodying that means people know their stuff about Shibuya.)

I think the “it’s overflowing!” is referring to the hype in the “room”.

…this dejected Momo is worrying…(well, he is worrying and I am worrying about him.)

Oh, I see. The person responsible typed the letter so that they couldn’t be traced back. Kind of like those old movies where the culprit would cut letters out of newspapers to make threat mail, but…with even less traces than that, because cutting letters out leaves evidence.

…wow, it took a while for this ep. to have an intro…

…LOL, I just spotted Kenjiro Tsuda cited as the “fake Zero”, meaning the real one might never show up this season.

There’s something really stupid and infectious about these managers’ enthusiasm for drinking energy drinks. It puts a goofy smile on my face.

Is Musubi Tsumugi’s mother…? Update: Yes, she is.

…Wait, so the Chiba Shizuo guy is actually important?!

Idolish7 s2 13

Whenever someone says “by the way”, it means they’re changing the subject. I hate to state to obvious, but Sougo is clearly deflecting the topic of conversation from being about him.

I wonder if this guy (Haw9) is the actual Zero graffiti vandal…?

Hmph, I didn’t realise Tenn doesn’t refer to Kujo-san as his father, but…like that (“Kujo-san”) instead.

Oh hey! These are shots from Vibrato!

Most dramas can be solved with the power of Good Communication. That includes this one.

I feel like “he has a dark side” describes both Tenn and Kujo-san.

“Everyone, remember to wash your hands and gargle thoroughly.” – This is always a good thing to remember in the time of ‘rona. Reminds me of Jakurai’s line in ARB (<- this game started just after the ‘rona came down).

What did Sougo go to uni for (what specialisation)?

Idolish7 s2 14

I just realised Banri calls Momo -kun. Hmm…

Denki = electricity, LOL.

I feel like Tenn is basically Ramuda, give or take actual pink hair…guys in musical groups with pre-existing angst that they become the “centre” of. The fact Fling Posse have Saito Soma and so do Trigger strengthens the connection.

I would watch the heck out of a musical like that! Make it come true, Idolish7! (Also, today is I7 day! I’m not much of an I7 fan outside the anime, but…that’s cool!)

That shot of them jumping! I remember seeing it on the official site before!

Idolish7 s2 15 (FINAL)

There you go! I was wondering where Banri’s injury was – that was the only bit that didn’t add up for him to be Yuki’s old partner.

Hmm…Momo is 4 years younger than Yuki but 2 years younger than Banri…

This episode has a real concert vibe to it, to the point where I got startled by how loud the yell was at one point. (Even if it is mostly stills.)

LOL, lookit Okazaki!

Apparently, if you’re a hako oshi, you like all the members of a group. Someone with a green light and a pink light likes both members of Re:vale.

LOL, Usagi for Asahi beer.

…I forgot Nagi is 19.

…Ooh, I think that’s the kid from ZOOL. No wonder they needed a season 3!

That’s all. See you next time!

SLS 2

“fine and upstanding person” – That’s…hard to believe, Hayato.

I wonder how many bois Toboso designed for SLS…?

…The episode title is actually “Blank”. Not “Break”.

One of the guys’ shirts says moteki on it. That’s a period in one’s life where one enjoys more romantic attention than usual, literally “popularity season”.

The subs missed an I, so initially I knew Kiriyama’s name as “Kiryama”.

There are meant to be 2 wings, right…?

“He who controls information controls everything, right?” – For once, I’m surprised Hayato is right (and not just in that smug way of his).

“…I’m being treated like a manager.” – But Hayato is a manager! (In a sense.)

The plait guy jumps to nicknames really fast…also, why do I get the feeling Maeshima will lose the key?

I hate to say this Maeshima, but I side with your childhood friend (Kiriyama) here. As much as the anime wants me to back you, I’m watching for everyone else at this point.

That blocky building looks pretty cool. I think Zel (Archi-Anime) would like it.

Sasugai’s setup looks pretty cool, including his chair.

…hmm, Maeshima’s like me in a sense. I learn best by copying others, but memory is my best asset. If I don’t regularly train the fundamentals, I suck at everything. That said, I don’t have an eidetic memory. Also, I didn’t quite figure out Ken = Ken(sei Maeshima) until I watched long enough to connect the dots.

LOL, Derry’s. (<- reminded of a word for “butt” <- derriere)

Well, the guy’s (Souta…?) shirt does say moteki…

Kiriyama kinda looks like Jyuto (HypMic), come to think of it…Right down to his angry streak (although Jyuto has a reputation to keep as a “cool dude”, while Kiriyama is more of a Manza (Boueibu HK) and he’s more angry than he looks).

…This ED is nothing special.

…Hmm? Is that a small Terauchi and Maeshima…?

I think I’m sold for now, but I’m rooting for the other team, not Maeshima’s…not yet, anyways.

#simulcast commentary #skate-leading☆stars #idolish7 #Idolish7 Second Beat!#Maou-jou de Oyasumi #sleepy princess in the demon castle #Chesarka watches I7 #Chesarka watches Maou-jou

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vanaera · 5 years

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The Constellations of the Big and Small Spoons

[Moodboard created by the amazing @jhspetitegf] Synopsis | You’re sick and your roommate’s gone for her hometown for the next days so your bestfriend, Jeon Jungkook (who loves you cares so, so much), plays nurse for the entire night. What he did not expect is to find himself also burning hot–moreover on your bed with your body intertwined with his. (OR: you and Jungkook’s single brain cells try to make sense of the night except Jungkook has his heart-shaped and yours, well, is just plain weird…or not? ) Characters | Jungkook x reader (Football player!jjk x writer + childhood friend!you; college!au + bestfriends to lovers! tho more like idiots to lovers) Genre | So much FLUFF (welcome to the TPAHR Universe) Wordcount | 3.3k A/N | Sorry for my inactivity guys, uni’s been a little too hard on me lately :(((( Anyway, here’s something I made as a gift for all my hons who patiently waited for another installment of this drabble series. Have fun reading and Happy Jungkook Day!

Read more of football!jk drabbles in The Prince and His Rose

The inky skies of the midnight haze are already sweeping across the room and yet, Jeon Jungkook feels the sun, even in its absence, is cursing him to the depths of hell. Scorching heat laps at his back, making him sweat even when the AC is blasting frigid air to his toes. A beaming glow, hot like the blinding afternoon daylight, seems to seep between his lashes, keeping his eyes excruciatingly wide open in the wake of the night. In this ungodly hour, such beam of light is non-existent, but Jungkook still feels it and he can’t do anything about it.

“You’re still a…awake, Kook?”

Jeon Jungkook can’t do anything about this heat when its very source is lying next to him–too close to him. Your legs are wound around his, your arms looped around the dip of his waist, and your breath fans against his nape, he could practically feel his baby hairs rising in succession.

However, at your question, the only thought taking up every space in his mind is the question: What does he do now? Does he answer you? Should he pretend to be asleep? Or, do he–

“A-am I being too clingy? S-sorry…” Jungkook feels you withdraw your arms and he panics. He immediately turns on his side, not caring about the sheets of your bed uncomfortably tangling around his legs. Jungkook’s hand shoots from his side, wrapping around your wrist that you have retreated back to your chest. He sees the surprise written on your face and he instantly unclasps his hand, keeping them crossed across his chest, just like your current position.

“N-no! You’re not clingy…I just,” Jungkook sighs and decides to let honesty play his cards. “I suddenly felt…weird.”

You look at him, eyes peering into him and he gulps. But before he can explain himself, you have already opened your mouth and asked, “Wh-why? Is it because of me? I-I’m sorry…”

Jungkook bites his lip as his heartbeat start to thunder loud and clear behind his ears, an imminent sign the songs in his chest are about to play anytime soon. He stares at you, drinking in your bleary eyes and furrowed forehead. If he’s gonna be honest now, everything about his current position is indeed all because of you.

***

It started with you overworking yourself again into the first month of the semester and Jungkook only knew about this when your common friend, Park Jimin, texted him you’re absent in the communication class you share with him. And Jungkook knows you care too much about your academic standing, with your scholarship and all, to tick off at least one of your course’s permitted leaves.

“It’s not that bad,” you told him once you woke up and saw his worry-streaked face, his form crouching next to your bedside, but Jungkook begs to differ. First of all, he found you slumped on your desk that afternoon hair uncombed, clothes unwashed, lunch pack you probably bought for the day still untouched, and a mess of papers splayed around your head, with a stray piece even covering your face. And second, he realized you’ve come down with a flu the moment he noticed your labored breaths and felt your skin burning up. So of course, this is bad. Jungkook frowns at the careless shrug you give him and it deepens when you tried to laugh at the situation and told him you’re fine and he should go back to his dorm even when you’re tucked up in your sheets, face pale, and voice hoarse like death.

Of course, he didn’t listen to you. With the years he’s grown with you, he always knew you easily get sick and take too long to get well. He would always hear your mom’s exasperated voice next door when she scolds you for getting drenched under the rain or standing too long under the sun. All of these were for the best of you, ten-year-old Jungkook found out, because when you turned seven, you got hospitalized for five days after coming down with an illness from just playing under the rain with him for an hour. As soon as you got discharged, your mom asked him to keep an eye on you if you ever try to pull off some stupid shit again. With three years ahead of you in age, Jungkook easily accepted such responsibility and for the next ten years, he zealously kept his promise to your mom.

So now with you sick and your roommate gone for her hometown for the next two days, there are no further questions to be asked. Jungkook will stay by your side for the night. Three years of coming-and-going to your dorm is enough for him to memorize that every Wednesday, your RA does not do her rounds. His butt is safe for tonight from momentary bad landings on the ground whenever he has to escape from your window.

Taking care of you is easy. He knows playing along with your whines will get him to make you eat the food he nearly cut a finger for in preparation. Asking you to tell him another run-over of your stories is the key to coax you to ignore your work for the mean time and take a shower. Finally, letting you ramble about the most random things is the ultimate power move to get you into bed and tuck you under the sheets. He still goes for this technique even though he ends up with the most ridiculous ideas plaguing him in his sleep like that time you wondered what if the Cerberus has its body reversed: instead of three heads and one body, it has one head and three bodies.

However, this night was different from the other nights he played nurse because this is the first time the power move did not work on you.

“Come lay next to me.”

“What?!” Jungkook whips his head to you, fingers frozen in the middle of arranging the papers on your desk.

“Come lay next to me,” you repeat, voice still soft but the conviction in it clearer. Jungkook straightens his back and faces you with a deadpan stare. The usual “No, Y/N, I won’t lie next to you. I have some blankets. I’ll sleep on the floor,” is already on the tip of his tongue. But as soon as he took a step towards you, your ultimatecounter-atack is played out in front of him: you with your puppy eyes and your bottom lip jutted out in a pout. Jungkook immediately freezes. Such sight used to affect his soft spot for you that will have him willing to consider your request back when he only saw you as a friend. But now–damn, not only does it affect his soft heart, it also instantly attacks a part of his brain–a part where he lets his feelings cloud his rational thinking and is most of the time occupied by you (in short, his whole brain–just kidding).

So there is no surprise Jungkook will only manage to squeak, “What?” amidst the tornado going on his body and the gigantic flash of red ready to take over his cheeks.

Unaware of his interior war with himself, you only fixed your gaze on him and said, “Come lay next to me. I’m feeling too cuddly and…lonely. Yeah, lonely. I didn’t manage to talk with anyone yesterday and I crave some human connection, which also only made me miss my bestfriend more.”

Jungkook is still rooted in his position, still giving you that troubled expression (brows knitted together, face flushed, lips parted in a weird semi-scowl, semi-smile that sometimes troubles you yourself), so you muttered, “Promise, you can leave my side as soon as I fell asleep.”

Jungkook bites his lip but wordlessly goes to your side of the bed to raise his hand to your direction, pinky jutted out. “You promise?”

You grin at him. “Aren’t we already too old for pinky swears? You’re making me look like I’m destroying your conscience by just asking you to keep me company.”

“Because you do–Goddamn it, Y/N, just promise me or not?!”

“Fine, fine, fine, I promise,” you interlock your pinky with his and seal the deal with a kiss on your thumb. “There, so can you know lay next to me? So I can also end your agony as soon as possible?”

“Damn, woman, you’re so demanding.” Despite such remark, Jungkook concedes and goes to the other side of your bed. After he finally tucks himself next to you with your blanket pulled to his chest like you do, he fixes you with a begrudging frown. “There. Satisfied?”

You laugh, “Yeah, so much!” You pulled his right arm closer to you, spreading his palm open to slot your fingers between the spaces of his own. Giggling at your now-intertwined hands, you turn to his side and look up at him. “Don’t you feel reminiscent of sleeping like this when we used to have sleepovers in your house?”

“Yeah, totally. Can you now sleep?” Jungkook answers with an annoyed huff, facing away from you and you only giggle at him.

“Okay, grumpy StarKook,” you chortle. “Remember not to get too close. You may get sick, too, and you can’t have that for tomorrow’s practice.” Drawling on your words, you pressed yourself further on your side of the bed to create more space between the two of you.

It is only when your soft snores fill the room that Jungkook breaks from his stiff position. He turns to your side, facing your curled-up form. The circles under your eyes have become darker than last week and your collarbones protrude on your skin a little too much for his liking. And he hates himself for not noticing anything earlier. He hates himself for missing out too much on you these days. He hates himself for making it up to you only now. But most of all, he hates himself for his inability to just outright say to you that he no longer sees you as just a friend but a person who’s unknowingly owned his heart.

He hates how he can’t easily return the sweet sentiments you generously pour on him. His lips conditioned to say the opposite of what his heart meant in fear of losing you with the burden he’s impending to give you once you knew everything about the songs in his heart. And even if he tried to make up for his poor choice of words with his actions, he hates how his progress is close to nothing in trying to make you see the way he sees you whenever you feel insecure, un-loved, un-qualified to live in the world. Because, you are so, so much more than the faults you always see in yourself.

So, even if Jungkook feels he’s still far from touching your heart the way you did his when you helped him realize his own passion, he won’t stop trying. Even if sometimes he gets easily knocked off his feet and rational thoughts fly away from his head the moment his eyes just as so much meet yours–Jungkook won’t stop loving you.

Jungkook sees the way you suddenly shift closer to him, forehead scrunched and lips frowning in discomfort. He raises his hand and awkwardly pats your hair. That seems to do the trick as the lines on your forehead smoothen out, your lips curving into a small smile. Jungkook then feels a squeeze on his hand and his heart instantly warms into a soft mush at the way you managed to keep yourself far from him so as not to infect him, but still near enough for you to reach him.

Jungkook’s about to sweep away the strand of hair that has fallen astray on your face when–

“Ko-ook, I…felt so bad today.”

Jungkook immediately tucks away his hand back to his chest. Your eyes are still closed, chest heaving evenly with your breaths so Jungkook’s not sure if you’re just sleep-talking or just letting him off the hook of what he’s about to do. Nevertheless, he replies, “W-why?”

“Be…because I can’t write these days and I…and my studies take up too much of my time and I just–I don’t knoow, feel like I’m not improving at aall.”

“I–,” Jungkok gulps “Well, I can help you with your studies?”

“No offense, Kook, but I don’t trust you with my pa-papers…My program is a reading course and you a-already sleep halfway through a five-paged short stooory.”

Jungkook laughs, “Okay, touché.” Damn, even in your drowsy state you still roast him well.

Despite his small chuckles, you continue on, still serious. “Bu…but what if I can’t find the time to wri–write anymore and end up not getting any of my stories published?”

Almost instantly, Jungkook replies, “You will get published.” Among all of the things he has agreed with, this is the only one he can be a hundred percent sure of.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you will. And because I’ll make sure I’ll be the first person to buy a copy of your book.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, smiling.

“You…you promise?”

“Now look who told me we’re getting too old for pinky promises.”

“I just sai-said promise, you know. You’re the only grown-up who still likes pinky promises–Whatever, do you promise or not?

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

“Hmmm,” you yawn turning on your side of the bed, “It’s already laaate so feel free to sleep on my bed, Kook. But if you still want to go to your dorm and rest, you can leave me now. I’m already sleepyyy. Thank you again for the night.”

“Okay, I’m finally free!” Jungkook chuckles but he doesn’t make a move to leave. Not yet. He turns to look at your sleeping figure, eyes drinking in the curves and dips of your body. Jungkook shifts an inch closer to you, his hand poised near to your back. He aches to caress the soft tuff of hair in front of him but Jungkook keeps his hand to himself. This is enough for now. He just wants to prolong his opportunity to be with you like this, to have you close to him without worrying about the possible consequences of his feelings. A soft smile graces Jungkook’s face as he sighs.

***

Your eyes flutter open when you feel a sudden movement against your skin. The first thing that registers in your mind is that you’ve practically latched yourself onto Jungkook – lips pressed on his nape, arms looped around the dip of his waist, and feet slotted against his calves. What worries you though is your bestfriend is barely breathing. With the way his abdomen feels taut beneath your fingers and the soft expanse of his neck trembling under the space where you managed to press your nose against, you’re sure he’ll pass out anytime soon from holding his breath inside for too long.

“You’re still a…awake, Kook?” You called out, withdrawing your arms back to your chest, legs back to your side of the bed. “A-am I being too clingy? S-sorry…”

Jungkook suddenly moves away and then he’s now facing you. “N-no! You’re not clingy…I just,” Jungkook sighs, “I suddenly felt…weird.”

“Wh-why?” You mutter softly, brows furrowed. You then realize he must have been unable to leave just like you promised because you’re hugging him too tight in your sleep. You immediately brought your gaze down, apologetic. “Is it because of me? I-I’m sorry…I probably hugged you in my sleep and didn’t let you leave and go back to your dorm, and I’m sorry–”

Jungkook shakes his head and looks at you, wide awake now. Of course, everything about this night is because of you. He’s feeling all these things because of you–you who stupidly neglect your health for the sake of studying, you who whine at him yet successfully convince him to join you on your bed, and you who look so endearingly beautiful even when you’re sick and can barely keep your eyes open. Of course, it will always be you.

“No, it’s not because of you,” Jungkook breathes out.

But he won’t admit it to you.

“It’s because of me.”

Because he’s also at fault for dragging his chances tonight for too long and you are yet to know the reason why. Especially, not now–not this way.

“I got sleepy, too, so I just decided to sleep, and then I suddenly woke up when I felt you, uh…hugging me like that,” Jungkook clears his throat. “I-it’s just–I felt a bit queasy about you hugging me from behind.”

You blink at him. “You feel weird being the small spoon?”

Jungkook almost chokes on his own spit. “W-what?” Are you talking about spooning in bed? Where are you going with this conversation?!

“I mean,” you huff, “most guys I talk with complain about their partners’ hair smothering their faces when they are the big spoon. And, it’s not like I purposely hugged you just to find out whether you like being the small spoon or not, I just unconsciously hugged you FYI. But then again, why don’t you like being the small spoon? You used to like it when I am the big spoon in our sleepovers.”

“…When the hell did that happen?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and Jungkook laughs. Huffing, you turn your back to him, facing your side of the bed. “Nevermind, deny it all you want when we know your mother still has pictures of you snuggled in my embrace. Anyway, it’s good that I woke up on time. You should have woken me up when you felt me hug you. You need to stay far on the bed or else you’ll get sick too and–”

A thick arm drapes across your waist and a firm chest presses behind your back. You feel Jungkook’s knees slot next behind yours, his warm toes sliding beneath your cold feet. Before you can let out a squeak in surprise, you hear the voice of your bestfriend, rumbling right from his chest.

“I don’t want to be small spoon. I like to be the big spoon. So I can protect you at night.”

Chuckling, you try to ignore the searing warmth that has suddenly taken over your chest. Your ears also feel incredibly hot now, because of the cold, because of Jungkook–you don’t know, but the only thing you’re sure of is you like this warmth. Probably way more than you should. Grinning, you said, “Protect me from what?”

“From nightmares and bad people. Now be quiet and go to sleep, peanut.”

“Okay, okay, but…you have to let go now, Kook. You’ll also get sick–”

“Don’t wanna. I never get sick,” Jungkook murmurs against your hair, “I have the Jeon Effect.”

“Hmm’kay, suit yourself. Don’t let me tell you ‘I told you so.’” A beat passes and then you mumble something against your pillows–something Jungkook would have easily dismissed if not for one word that added to the flame in his heart.

“Goodnight…prince.”

It only takes about two minutes to have you snoring softly again in his arms. Jungkook releases the breath he’s been holding and lets his stiff shoulders drop in resignation. He presses himself closer to you, his arm draped across your waist moves as he finds for your fingers and intertwines it with his.

Pressing a tender kiss on the back of your head, Jungkook mutters, “Goodnight, my princess.”

Epilogue

“Mom,” Jungkook whispers on the phone, “Do you really have pictures of Y/N spooning me from behind?”

“Well, yeah…I didn’t know you knew I have copies of those, I only showed them to Y/N. Why did you ask?”

“N-nothing. Just checking.”

“Oh…kay. By the way, I also have photos of you spooning Y/N from behind. It’s so cute seeing you have turned around and switched your places. Ahh, I miss the toddler version of you. So cute!”

“Kook, are you–achoo!–talking with someone?”

“Oh shucks, mom, I have to go now. Bye bye, love you.” Jungkook ends the call and turns on his side to face you. “It’s just my mom, checking up on me.” But before you can ask him how’s his mom, Jungkook lets out a massive sneeze. He could feel your stare on him as he grabs some tissues from your tissue box–only to end up with insufficient three tissues and an empty box. He grins at you. “Can you hand me more tissues?”

Your lips pull into a straight line as you reach for the tissue box by your desk “Here. See, Jungkook? I told you to leave me yesterday, Now you’re sick, too.

“It’s okay. At least now I get you to focus all your attention on me.”

“W-what?”

“N-nothing.”

A/N pt.2 | So hi hons! Thank you for reading this installment!!! I’ve been down the couple of days because of so MUCH school work and…I feel like I’m not improving at all given with the sudden efflux of feedback to my recent writings :((( Hence, sorry if I kept you guys waiting for too long…Anyway, I hope I’ve progressed a little bit with this installment! Thank you for always supporting me and reading my stories!

P.S. If you also want to leave me some love, I have my arms wide open in my ask box ~( ; ^ ; )~

#btswritingcafe #bangtan bookclub #kwritersworldnet #btsguild #bangtanarmynet #tpahr #the prince and his rose #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #football player!jk + childhood friend!you #HONS!#ANOTHER DRABBLE IS HERE!#Happy birthday for our cutie patootie Jeon Jeonggukie #Happy Jungkok Day

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years

Text

captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 3: coffee

summary: three times allen, coffee hater, is offered coffee, one time he drinks coffee, and one time he offers coffee.

notes:

mass effect: andromeda au. connor is the human pathfinder. hank is his second. 60 is called clement here and is a member of the team. allen is an exile they recruited.

----

‘Coffee, Lou?’

No one has called him that for so long that it takes Allen a few seconds to realize that Clement is talking to him. Looking up from the pistol he is cleaning - a nice Carnifex that Hank and Connor, for some reason, bought but never used - he sees that the younger Ryder is holding a steaming cup in his hands carefully.

‘There’s only one cup,’ Allen says, dumbfounded. The lack of resources allows the Pathfinder team a lot of liberties and neither the Pathfinder nor his second are picky about the people on their team, but someone who is supposedly working for the Nexus being friendly to him… he’s still getting used to it.

‘I realized that you have not had the pleasure to have my mother’s coffee,’ Clement explains, ‘so I made one for you. It’s made from real beans.’

‘You went all the way back to the Hyperion,’ Allen stares. Hard. Should it make sense? ‘To make me coffee. While there’s a coffee maker right next door.’ He gestures at the door.

A shrug. ‘Why not? Connor and Hank won’t be back for a few more hours at least. I have time and...’ he averts his gaze and...is that a blush? ‘I want to share this with you. It has always been a great source of comfort for me.’

‘Comfort, huh?’ Allen wonders, pondering how to reject the man politely. He never likes coffee that much, the drink too bitter for his taste and the caffeine making his heart race and making him feel like he’s going to have a heart attack for hours, but what - or who - he does like is Clement. Dreamy, easily-distracted Clement who probably just wants to share his deceased mother’s coffee with his new friend (are they even friends?) when his brother and not-quite brother-in-law are out there being the heroes of the cluster by dealing with bureaucrats. ‘Why don’t you make one for yourself?’

‘I… I don’t want to waste good coffee.’

Clement looks so unsure now that Allen wants to stand up to hug him. ‘You drink it,’ the former exile tells him. ‘I don’t like coffee anyways.’

Clement visibly relaxes. Taking a sip of Actual Milky Way Bean Juice, he asks, ‘Can I watch you?’

The question comes so suddenly that Allen’s brain fails to deliver anything. ‘Uh…’ he indicates the disassembled pistol and the assorted mods scattered around the triangular table. ‘If you want to see me piece all this back together, sure. Go ahead.’

The other man slides smoothly onto the couch and sits close to Allen, the smell of coffee assaulting him and nearly making him sneeze. At this proximity, he can feel the heat radiating off Clement, and when he reaches for the parts he placed far away, he discovers that he can’t do so without pressing against the younger Ryder twin.

Clement doesn’t move away. Neither does Allen ask him to.

----

‘Coffee, Lou?’

‘They have coffee?’

Allen is exhausted from the fight against - what’s that called again? Ah - the Architect. Sure, he grew up in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, but fighting a robot as tall as a building in a -50ºC cold is not fun at all. My scientists went missing his ass. That damned thing was a nightmare and caught them unaware, and he hopes that he’ll never have to deal with one again. It took four of them - Connor, Hank, Clement, and Allen himself - half an hour to take down that thing.

And of course the Initiative wants a fucking report.

‘Yes,’ says Clement from his seat next to Allen. ‘Coffee is considered an essential substance for every Initiative outpost. Taerve Uni possesses an abundant supply.’

No matter how much Allan blinks, the blur of the words doesn’t fade away. ‘Don’t like coffee.’

‘But it looks like you need some.’

‘I don’t -’ His jaw cracks open in another yawn. OK. Maybe he isn’t as awake as he thinks he is. ‘Stil no fucking coffee for me, though.’

‘Understood.’

Allen puts the datapad aside and takes a good look at Clement, noting his drooping eyelids and the way his eyes are unfocused. Someone is as tired as him.

‘Where’s your brother?’ Allen asks when he notices the absence of the Pathfinder and his second-in-command.

‘On the Tempest.’

The former exile very nearly cracks his head open on the table. ‘Did you just watch me work my ass off and decided not to tell me that our bosses are fucking resting?’

Clement looks taken aback. ‘I thought - I don’t wish to interrupt you.’

Allen sighs. ‘Listen, I - I appreciate that,’ he says as he digs a knuckle into his eye, ‘but you don’t have to follow me around. You can go back first. I see you’re tired.’

‘But I want to spend more time with you!’

The silence ensured is thick enough to be cut through with an omni-blade. Clement, as if just realizing what he said, blushes a very lovely shade of pink before putting his face in his hands.

It is adorable.

Allen chuckles. ‘Look at me, Clement.’

The twin peers at him through the gaps between his fingers. Chuckling, the older man removes Clement’s hands from his face, and he laces their fingers together instead of letting go. Clement goes impossibly redder.

‘I want to spend more time with you too,’ Allen says. Stumbling for words, he adds, ‘I like you. A lot.’ Fuck. He’s so out of practice. ‘I think,’ he leans closer so that they’re breathing the same air, ‘getting together will be a great idea.’

A small, whispered ‘Yes!’ from Clement, and the next moment they are kissing; just a gentle press of their lips, Allen’s hands flying to the back of Clement’s head while Clement traces Allen’s cheekbone, and they’re grinning at each other like idiots when they part for air.

‘Should we go back?’ Allen suggests, his voice low. Clement shivers. ‘Crew’s quarters should be empty at this time. We can watch a vid. Hoard all the blankets and cuddle underneath them.’

Clement kisses him again.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

----

‘Coffee, Lou?’

‘Don’t like coffee.’

‘I know. However, seeing that you’re not planning to go to sleep, you’ll need something to keep you up.’

‘As if this is not enough?’ Allen waves his datapad. ‘A space station as large as a metropolis? The angara - created? The Scourge - a weapon of mass destruction? How -’ realizing that his voice is raising, he takes a deep breath to calm down - ‘How can you be so calm about this?’

Clement blinks, his face devoid of any expression. ‘Calm, or numb?’

Allen feels like an idiot. ‘Clement, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s alright,’ says the other man gently. Sliding into Allen’s lap, Clement wraps his arms around the older man’s waist and hooks his chin on his shoulder. ‘You’re not the only one who’s shocked.’

‘I keep telling myself that if I know more about the network, I’ll be less terrified of it.’ A sigh. ‘Evidently, it only makes things worse. Now I’m not even sure if I want to stay in Heleus.’

‘There’s no me outside of Heleus.’

Allen hums. ‘You’re right,’ he kisses Clement’s temple. ‘Stay with me?’

‘Go sleep with me. Connor will want you at peak condition.’

Ah yes. The classic ‘blame everything on my brother’ excuse. ‘Of course.’

He switches off the datapad and promptly picks Clement up with his arms supporting his thighs. Clement shrieks in surprise and wraps his legs around Allen’s waist, cheeks turning pink and giggling uncontrollably even after Allen carefully deposits him onto the lower bunk farther away from the bathroom, the one they have been sharing for the past couple of months as they sail around the cluster and fix everyone’s mess. It is small and low, made for one average-sized person, but they make do by having Clement sleep with half his body on top of Allen. Or having Allen crush Clement underneath him with his bulk, which has become their preferred position to sleep in. They get to stay close to each other, so although cramped, they won’t have it any other way.

Allen presses a kiss onto the nape of Clement’s neck. ‘Night.’

‘Night, Lou.’

----

Allen loses track of how long he’s been sitting there simply looking at Clement.

They have Meridian. They have the coordinates. They have a fleet of Remnant ships. They’re supposed to make for a final push towards the heart of the network. They’re supposed to, at fucking last, make Heleus their new home.

Not the Archon taking the Hyperion. Not SAM being disconnected from the Ryder twins. Not Connor scrambling his brains to try to summon even more Remnant to help fight the kett.

Not Clement nearly dying because he apparently needs SAM to survive.

The med bay door opens and Hank steps in, looking like he’s just aged ten years, his eyes cold and harsh like Alaskan winters.

But his tone is warm when he asks Allen, ‘How’s he?’

Allen holds Clement’s hand to ground himself. ‘Bad. If we don’t retake SAM soon… Heleus will have a lot less kett by the time I’m done. How’s Connor?’

‘He’s gotten used to SAM boosting his physiology, so the crash is a bitch. But he’ll live. He’s just sleeping it away. And, uh,’ a shrug, ‘don’t suppose you have contacts with some of the exiles?’

‘Not much,’ Allen says. ‘I didn’t exactly play with the folks from Kadara or Elaaden.’

‘“Not much”? So you do have contacts?’

‘Believe it or not, quite a number of people left for Eos and started their own governments there.’ At Hank’s skeptical eyebrow, he continues, ‘Most of them owe me their lives. I can try to contact them, but seeing that they live in caves, I doubt many of them are space-worthy.’

‘There’s no harm in trying,’ says the N7. ‘If they can’t go to Meridian, they can at least defend Prodromos while most of their personnel are gone.’

Allen nods in understanding, and Hank leaves to presumably return to Connor’s side. As the door to Pathfinder’s Quarters closes, he lets go very reluctantly and goes to the crew quarters to make himself a cup of coffee. Sure, stim packs might have worked better than caffeine, but he doesn’t know how long it will be until everyone’s ready to launch an assault against the Archon, and he cannot afford the crash after the effects of the stim pack is worn off; coffee, no matter how bad it tastes, is the best option he has.

If only Clement can see this.

----

‘Coffee, Clement?’

Clement looks into the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen when he wakes up. The smell of coffee - not the shitty ones on the Tempest but the ones from his mother’s coffee maker - fills the air, and when he receives the sweetest of kisses from his boyfriend, he knows that they’ve won.

#allen art week #allen appreciation #dbh hank anderson #dbh connor #dbh connor 60 #allen60 #hankcon #dbh allen #detroit: become human #allenartweek #allenappreciation

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janeofcakes · 4 years

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KYFC..: Chapter 13

Hello, my friends! I hope you are all having/had a lovely Sunday. I apologize for being late with this chapter. I decided to try out a beta and it is definitely a learning process. I hadn’t anticipated the extra time editing would take, or wanting so many “final” read-throughs. Mind you, I truly believe the chapter is better for it. However....for whatever reason, I’m more freaked out about putting this chapter out there than any other so far. Haha. Whatever the case with me, I hope you all enjoy it.

---

My heart burns with feeling, but whoa my mind, it’s cold and reeling. Is this love, baby, or is it just confusion? --Jimi Hendrix, Love or Confusion

John stares up at the red roof of the Edgar Allan Poe House and Museum in the late morning sun. It is a fairly small and assuming home, but he cannot help wondering at what secrets it holds. He has bubbled with anticipation since he read the words “..walking into Poe’s Baltimore home is both disturbing and ethereal” on its website at breakfast. He had invited the skaters along, but they all had other plans already. So, here he is, standing before it alone.

He is about to walk up the small wooden staircase at its entrance when he becomes aware of a presence to his right. He turns quickly and comes face to face with a hesitant Sherlock Holmes, shifting his feet and looking at John with a face full of uncertainty.

“Hi,” John grins and Sherlock looks surprised. “I didn’t see you at breakfast. You did eat?”

“I put together something in my room,” Sherlock answers, his expression shifting. “I often request that the kitchenette be stocked with some of the basics.”

“That is a great idea. I’ll have to remember that,” John nods, making a mental note.

There is a moment of silence while he considers the coach’s demeanor curiously.

“Are you going in or just passing by?” he gestures to the house.

“Oh, going in,” Sherlock clears his throat. “Poe is a favorite author of mine.”

“Mine too,” John remarks. “Want to go through together? We could go for lunch when we’re done.”

John tilts his head and furrows his brow as he watches Sherlock. The taller man looks utterly flummoxed and John has no idea why.

“Erm…well, I rather thought after this morning…after what I did...and said...” he pauses awkwardly, waving his hand in a rather general way as if hoping it will somehow clarify his meaning. John raises his brows in question and Sherlock sighs in frustration. “I know when I’ve been dismissed.”

“What?” John huffs a startled laugh. “No. That isn’t what I meant at all. Look, I know I left abruptly.”

“Quite,” the coach replies curtly.

“Okay, okay,” John responds, his tone growing defensive, “and I didn’t say much.”

“You would have avoided speaking entirely if it were possible,” Sherlock huffed, aggravation pulsing off of him in waves.

“Okay, Sherlock, I get it. I’m sorry,” John murmured. “I was...disappointed.”

Sherlock gives him a pointed look, but one that cannot hide the hurt in his eyes.

“With myself,” John rushes to say and continues in a decisive tone. “Not with you. I didn’t mean to give the impression that I wanted to disassociate myself from you.”

Sherlock’s face adopts an expression that screams ‘Really, John? Really?’. He lowers his narrowed eyes a moment and then gives John a sardonic smile.

“What impression did you think it would give?” Sherlock’s voice drips with annoyance, his whole body radiating anger.

They stare at one another, their words hanging between them, like a thick smog that leaves no room to breathe. John is no idiot. He gets what Sherlock is saying, but his past was the last thing he had wanted to talk about, especially after such a fucking spectacular night. Still there was no way around it. John had been angry while telling the story, but it had soon faded, leaving him exposed and frustrated. He had wanted only to leave as fast as he could before Sherlock had a chance to properly judge his actions and throw him out. He hadn’t meant to cast any sort of judgment upon Sherlock or make him feel he was being rejected. Christ, he is such a dick.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, hoping his tone conveys the depth of his feeling. He does not want to lose this friendship. He cannot lose it. He watches Sherlock for any sign of forgiveness and, to his relief, he sees the coach’s grey eyes soften and his annoyance fading.

“I should be the one apologizing, John. I am seldom able to deduce you so fully and when I finally could, I got carried away. It was stupid and an obviously very painful part of your past. I’m sorry,” Sherlock says in a rush, his voice flustered. He bites his lower lip and looks at John with nervous eyes.

“You,” John pauses, his mind processing all Sherlock just said. He takes a step forward with a playful and mischievous smirk, “can’t always deduce me? Like you do everyone else?”

“Haven’t I mentioned it before? I’m quite sure I have. You guard your secrets with great care, John,” Sherlock nods his head; half annoyed, half in awe.

“Yeah, but hiding something from you,” John puffs out a breath.

“Is nothing short of miraculous,” Sherlock ventures when John simply pauses. It sounds pompous, but it is exactly what John is thinking.

The two gaze at each as the taller man takes a small step closer and looks at John with an open, honest expression. John’s heart skips a beat while Sherlock’s next words give him a heart attack:

“You are the most intriguing man I have ever met.”

John is speechless for a full ten seconds. Any longer than that and Sherlock would have thought he had done something wrong. John takes another step closer to buy himself some time while he searches his mind for a reply worthy of Sherlock’s declaration. It is still so hard to believe this wondrous man would ever be interested in John the way he so clearly is.

“But I’m so...ordinary,” John finally laughs, unable to think of anything more articulate. For all his intelligence, Sherlock completely disarms him.

“No, John,” Sherlock is shaking his head before the words are even out, “you are extraordinary.”

John looks at him with nothing less than adoration and gives him a radiant smile. He believes he knows Sherlock better than most, maybe even more than Victor Trevor had, the wanker, but he wants to know more. He wants to know every detail of this man and his life. Every thought and memory, every feeling, every inch of his body. God, his body. John saw so much of him last night and it wasn’t enough. He longs to explore Sherlock’s body again, worship it with his hands and his mouth.

John bites his lower lip and shakes away those thoughts. This is no time to get distracted by desire, especially when John is this confused. What he feels, what he wants is so much more than the physical. John wants Sherlock’s mind and soul. He wants to know everything, feel everything. He wants to share Sherlock’s life. John can already feel Sherlock with him, even when he is nowhere near, like he is a part of him. John feels him down into his bones. It’s like nothing he has ever felt before and it is breath-taking.

What he has told Sherlock about his romantic life is true. He has devoted no time to dating during his time in the States. He put little effort into it in the UK, to be honest, but had dated off and on in uni and medical school. He really only felt anything for two or three of them and none of those feelings came close to what he feels for Sherlock. It is… What is it? John is so confused, his head spinning. What does it mean when you don’t just want to spend the night with someone, but every day too? To talk to him and learn about him more than you want to sleep with him?

John looks at Sherlock and is damned if the coach doesn’t look like he knows every thought in John’s head. Sherlock could probably see it all plain as day as it flickered over his features. John huffs to himself in fond exasperation before making a small bow, befitting of Poe himself.

“Shall we?” John gestures toward the brick house before them.

“Please,” Sherlock replies with a dazzling smile and his own stately bow.

With the air between them cleared, they enter the house and pay admission. Soon their guide is leading them through a most fascinating tour. Though it is no longer furnished, it is not difficult to imagine what it looked like when Poe lived in it, between their guide’s descriptions and Sherlock’s additions. Not surprisingly, he knows a good many things the guide does not. To her credit, she smiles each time he begins speaking and waits patiently for him to finish. He is courteous as well, not interrupting her canned stories before jumping in. John appreciates it all until he begins to notice how her eyes stray from Sherlock’s face to glide down his body approvingly. Clearly impressed with more than just his knowledge of Poe, she begins flirting with Sherlock in more and more obvious ways as the tour goes on.

When they stop to view Poe’s portable writing desk and chair, Sherlock moves closer to marvel at it. After the guide is finished with her speech, the coach begins mumbling about Poe’s writing habits and his works. It is truly fascinating how much Sherlock knows and John is more than happy to listen. He would gladly listen to Sherlock for days on end and never tire of it. The man’s voice caresses John’s very soul. Each sound is rich, smooth dark chocolate coating John’s ears with warmth.

Unfortunately, John does not have time to savor Sherlock’s voice or his words. A few sentences in and he notices their guide slowly moving in on Sherlock. Irritation wells up within him and John immediately has the impulse to touch Sherlock. Stake some sort of claim with a touch that is just intimate enough to say ‘Back off. He’s mine.’. Something that will definitely tell her to get the fuck away from Sherlock.

But he doesn’t. Sherlock is not his.

John just presses his lips together into a thin line and grumbles nearly inaudibly. He has no business being jealous. No place warding others away from Sherlock as though he were his. Sure, they spent the night together, that annoying voice in the back of his mind reminds him. They had sex, but that does not mean they are together. It does not mean Sherlock wants to do it again. They are able to step back into their lives and friendship seamlessly. This little jaunt proves it. There is no awkwardness between them, just some initial misunderstanding and then back to their kind of normal. If John is honest with himself, he has never felt so comfortable with anyone in his life. Not even Bill, and that realization strikes him with the force of a bullet.

“John?” Sherlock’s voice finally breaks through his thoughts.

“What?” John shakes himself back to the here and now, only to see both Sherlock and the guide looking at him curiously. He blinks once or twice, trying to devise from Sherlock’s face what might have been said.

“Are you ready to move on?” he asks him, obviously repeating himself.

“What? Oh, yes, yes. Move along,” John marches on with a vigor he doesn’t feel.

The three continue with what remains of the tour and soon the duo bids the guide farewell. None too soon for John, who notices her pressing a bit of paper into Sherlock’s hand under the guise of a friendly handshake. Her number, no doubt. Christ. John huffs and rolls his eyes before he can stop himself. He has largely kept his jealousy to himself. At least, he hopes Sherlock has not picked up on it. He has given no indication, but the git probably noticed the moment the woman began talking.

Sherlock and John step down the small staircase at the front of the house and head for a row of shops and restaurants a few blocks away. They walk in a comfortable silence, each left to his own thoughts. John’s mind wanders to the night before, this morning, the tour, the guide. He had been such a fool to leave Sherlock’s room the way he had. Hurrying from the bedroom and refusing coffee like he was ashamed or angry. Well, truth be told, he was angry about Sherlock’s deductions. He had not wanted him to know about Claire or the supposed baby. But why? John had done nothing wrong. Claire had lied, made up the baby and tried to trap him. He has nothing to be ashamed of, right?

Wrong. John was wrong. He was always wrong in a relationship. He kept himself closed off and his partner at arm’s length every time. Never letting anyone in and never actually giving himself fully to another person. Relationships can only last so long when one half isn’t all in. Claire had simply been the most persistent, but it had not worked either. She could not crack his shell. No one ever had and that was ultimately what John did not want Sherlock to know. If Sherlock saw that there was no hope of John ever loving him, if he saw that John was incapable of it, he would go. That is the truth of it. John really should not try to hide it, even in the interest of prolonging a relationship with Sherlock. It is dishonest and despicable. No better than the lies Claire tried to use to keep John. He will not be that person.

John shakes his head, trying to clear it. Lunch was meant to be a pleasant respite with a friend when he had originally suggested it. There would be plenty of time later, after the bout when John is trying to sleep in his own hotel room to think about his stunted emotions. John huffs. Not emotions plural, just one. John has absolutely no problem getting angry or feeling jovial, sarcasm, friendship - all within easy reach, but love. He loved his parents, of course. Everyone does. He had loved Bill, but not that way.

Bill.

Could he have saved him? Would it have made any difference or is Sherlock right? Would he be dead too?

John blinks and pushes away the thoughts more forcefully this time. Now is not the time for nightmarish questions that will drive his mind into darkness. If John is going to think about Bill at all and how he fits into who John is today, he has to remain objective. If John had to guess, he would say losing Bill contributed, but he was already doing it before Bill. In fact, Bill seemed to have been the only exception and now Sherlock is too.

Sherlock.

He seems to be the exception to every rule, and he seems to encourage change in John with every passing day. Today’s is more obvious than any John has noticed to date. He simply does not get jealous as a rule. He probably hadn’t cared enough about any partner in the past to get jealous. Yes, he expects loyalty when he and a lover agree to be exclusive, which he and Sherlock have not done. John left Sherlock’s room before they had a chance to even consider it.

Why?

Why had he left like that? People say John is brilliant and Sherlock is very much his intellectual equal, if not more so. His ability to strategize and calculate is amazing, and John still wants to learn more about his mind palace. Surely he deduced John’s inability to love as soon as he learned of Claire. John had told him. He told him he didn’t love her, couldn’t love her. Couple that with the stories of his other relationships and Sherlock would know that a relationship with John is the worst mistake he could ever make. John’s breath leaves him in a rush. He simply cannot bear the thought. He wants to be with Sherlock. He needs to be with him, but...

“Stop it,” the words hit him like a freight train.

John nearly stumbles on the pavement when Sherlock’s deep baritone cuts through his spiraling thoughts. He looks up at his friend, not failing to notice how the wind blows his dark curls into an unruly frame around his face. John narrows his eyes marginally.

“What?” he asks, confusion clear on his face.

“Stop,” Sherlock repeats. “I can hear you thinking. Isn’t that what you said to me? Just stop before you come to some erroneous conclusion.”

“Erroneous conclusion?” John repeats incredulously. “I can reason things out just fine, thank you very much.”

“I was not suggesting that you couldn’t,” Sherlock looks at him evenly. He narrows his eyes. “But you do not have all of the data.”

John resists the urge to snap at him in favor of looking away and straight ahead instead. After a few moments of silence, John sighs and looks down at his feet.

“I should have stayed this morning,” he says quietly, still not turning his head to face the taller man. “We should’ve talked and that’s my fault.”

“Well, we could talk now,” Sherlock suggests, the smile evident in his voice and John finally turns to look at him, still expecting to be mocked somehow. Sherlock does look amused, but John should have known better than to think Sherlock would ridicule him.

John gives him a small nod as Sherlock gestures to a nearby cafe simply called ‘A Taste of India’. What the name lacks, the air drifting from inside makes up for with warm spices and the scent of freshly baked naan. They are soon seated and indulging in some of the best Indian food John has ever tasted.

Halfway into the meal, John wets his lips and leans forward in his chair. He glances down at his plate and then meets Sherlock’s eyes.

“Uh, we should,” he clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “We should talk.”

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth quirks up. John watches him, trying not to look nervous and probably failing miserably, judging by Sherlock’s expression. There is nothing John would like more than to change the subject and brush this off as he has done so many times in the past. He has run full-steam in the opposite direction, but Sherlock is so different. John is different too and he just doesn’t understand what any of it means. He has been allowed into this man’s life and knows what a gift it is, he treasures it with everything he has. Sherlock makes John feel calm and free, whereas he has felt undeniably trapped with every other person he has dated.

John eyes the incredible man across the table as he elegantly slides a fork from between his plush lips and chews. John wonders at the feeling that blooms in his chest, all warmth and comfort.

Then he blinks and shakes his head a little.

“You said I didn’t have all the data?” John clears his throat, trying to get back on track.

“You didn’t,” Sherlock says simply. John huffs a quiet, disbelieving laugh as Sherlock leans in. “You are concerned about your past, about what I have learned of it, especially this morning.”

John swallows. Sherlock does not break eye contact or miss a beat.

“You’ve no reason to fear, John. No reason to hide. That is all behind you and has no bearing on us now,” he explains in a very serious tone. “It will not write our future or cloud my view of you. No relationship is exactly like another.”

If John’s brain was functioning properly, he would point out that all of his past relationships have been exactly the same for him. However, his brain has seized because Sherlock used the word relationship. He said it like it is something he wants, like it is already a thing, a real thing. He says it like last night was not a one-off as John had feared. Still with his track record, Sherlock cannot possibly mean that. Maybe he actually hasn’t put everything together yet, in which case it is John’s duty to tell him.

“Sherlock,” he finally says when his mind gets itself together, and it still is not firing on all cylinders, “there’s something you have to know about me.”

“Is there?” he tilts his head. “Please enlighten me.”

“When Claire, her name was Claire. When she told me she was pregnant it was because she wanted me to marry her,” John licks his lips and stares at his water glass like it holds all the answers.

“Yes…” Sherlock prompts him softly.

“I didn’t love her,” John stumbles on, sounding more ridiculous by the minute.

“Right,” an affirmation to continue, not a judgment.

“Sherlock, listen. I…” John stops to wrestle with the panic threatening to burst from his chest. “I didn’t love anyone. I have never loved anyone I’ve been in a relationship with. I can’t guarantee it will be any different if we...if we agreed…”

“To date?” Sherlock ventures.

“Uh…” John is astounded by his bluntness. His mouth is suddenly dry and he clears his throat again. “Um, yeah, if you’d be interested. Are...are you interested?”

There is a sliver of hope in the words and hangs in the air between them. Sherlock opens his beautiful mouth to respond as the ringtone they both know to be Greg’s sounds. He had insisted on his own specific tone after Sherlock ignored one too many calls, which was not long after the lanky git was hired. John has caught shit on occasion for not forcing him to pick up.

“Damn it,” Sherlock mutters as he produces the offending device. “Greg, hello. Your timing, as always, is impeccable.”

“As long as you’re not having a quickie, I’d say I agree,” Greg laughs. Sherlock closes his eyes in resignation and, as if he can see him, Greg’s chortling ceases. “Oh, shit. You’re not on speaker?”

“No, I’m not on speaker,” Sherlock snaps his eyes open, “but for god sake, Greg.”

“Well, put me on,” Greg ignores his admonishment. “I want to go over the plan for tonight. I assume John is with you.”

“We have already done that,” Sherlock rolls his eyes. “What do you think we did last night?”

“I don’t know. What did you do last night?” Greg jokes. Sherlock’s eyes go wide and he does not answer. Greg’s voice comes over the line again, his tone suspicious. “Sherlock…”

Of course John hears none of Greg’s side of the conversation and can only guess at what he said to elicit Sherlock’s expression of shock. He is about to whisper an inquiry when the coach lays his mobile on the table.

“You’re on speaker now, Greg. You said you want to review the plan,” Sherlock prompts, impatience clear in his voice.

The remainder of lunch is spent talking through everything they spoke of the night before in the hotel bar. Their former conversation pushed aside in favor of discussing the bout plan with Greg, much to John’s chagrin. As much as he likes the GM and knows hashing out the plan with him is the right thing to do, John wants to know what Sherlock was going to say. Hen cannot get it off his mind.

As they talk with Greg, John holds on to the hope that he and Sherlock can resume their conversation, but it is all in vain. By the time they are finished, John and Sherlock have just enough time to rush back to the hotel for a change of clothes, to collect the ladies and their gear, and hop the bus for the night’s venue. The ladies are scheduled for an extended warm-up before they take the track and Sherlock insists on keeping a schedule once he has made it. For his part, John tries to stay focused, but cannot get Sherlock’s last two words out of his mind.

“To date?”

Had his tone been hopeful, curious, dismayed? John can hear the words exactly, but cannot put an emotion to them. He tries not to talk himself into anything, recalling Sherlock’s assertion that he does not have all the data, but really only succeeds in talking himself out of things. He sighs as he watches warm-ups. It is going to be a long night.

---

Oh, just the idea that you’ll have all read it when you get to this is a relief. What did you think? Quite a different ending from the last two chapters, eh? Haha. Dear Jane took pity and didn’t leave you in the lurch this time. However, y’all need to brace yourselves. John was right when he said it’s going to be a long night. What? Is that foreshadowing, Jane? Da da DAAAAA! Damn you.

I hope this chapter finds you all well and provides a little respite, in spite of my not being able to provide Indian food with it. Mmm. I definitely recommend it though. Love, Jane

@zentris @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @tooolforthissh--stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa @thetranslucentwallaby @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow @francj96

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlockholmes #sherlock loves john #sherlock fanfic #sherlock au #sherlock roller derby #john watson #johnwatson #johnlock #johnlock au #john is confused

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remywrites5 · 5 years

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hiiii i really love your blog and i may or may not have spent the weekend binge reading your posts.... 😂 anyway i’ve had a kinda shitty day and i was wondering if you could maybe write something with james x regulus? if not that’s totally fine haha thank you!!!!!!

Hi nonny! I’m pretty sure this ask is like years old and I’m really sorry it took me so long! You probably don’t even follow me anymore but if you do I hope your days have gotten better! But either way here’s a little something for you:

***

“Oi, Jamie,” Sirius said, poking his head into James’ room. “Just a reminder that my brother is coming to visit for the weekend.”

James groaned. “Sirius, no!” he complained, shutting his chemistry book. “You’ll disappear with Remus for the entire weekend and I’ll be stuck babysitting your brother, who I’ve never even met!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “First of all, Reg is only a year younger than us, you won’t be babysitting anyone. Second of all, we’re all going to a party at Mckinnon’s tonight so you won’t be stuck alone with him the whole time.”

“Just part of the time?”

Sirius shrugged. “I mean I’ll do my best…”

“God, you’re the worst fucking friend,” James grumbled, opening his chemistry book back up and attempting to cram for his test later that day.

“Oh and Jamie?”

“Yes?

“Don’t be a prick, alright?

Sirius ducked out of the way as a chemistry book went flying towards his head.

***

“Honey, we’re home,” Sirius sing-songed as he arrived back from picking Regulus up from the train station. James sighed and got out of bed, figuring he might as well try to be nice to the intruder. It wasn’t that James was opposed to people visiting for the weekend, it was just that Sirius and Remus were attached at the hip, and James hadn’t been making any progress with Evans. He knew it was selfish, but he hated other people being happy when he was fairly miserable. The last thing he wanted to do this weekend was hang around some snotty-nosed younger sibling.

He stepped out into the hallway and saw the Black brothers together for the first time. It wasn’t hard to tell they were related, same inky black hair, same impossibly high cheekbones, matching grey eyes. But where Sirius was all rough edges and rock and roll, Regulus was all smooth and posh. Unlike Sirius, who kept his hair long and shoulder length and a decent amount of stubble on his face, Regulus had his hair styled, cut short on the side and long on top to fall into his eyes in a very chic way. He was also clean-shaven and James could only imagine he had all kinds of fancy potions and after-creams to give him that effect.

“Hello,” Regulus said, holding his hand out to James, already being ever so polite. “You must be James. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” James said, making the handshake a little rougher than was strictly necessary.

Sirius grinned broadly and threw his arms around each of their shoulders, drawing them close to him. “My two brothers, together at last!”

“Gerroff,” James growled, shoving Sirius away and into Regulus.

Sirius shrugged and hugged Regulus more thoroughly. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

Regulus blushed, his eyes meeting James and then darting away quickly. “Yes, you kept saying on the ride over here.”

James snorted. “I’ll put some tea on.”

***

The party was already in full swing by the time they’d gotten there. Marlene lived in a flat off campus with a few other girls and even though it was bigger than the dormitories, it still couldn’t really fit the amount of people currently occupying it. Just moving around the party was like swimming through jelly. James had spilled at least a cup and a half of beer on himself just from trying to navigate the party.

As predicted, Sirius ditched them the moment they got to the party and he found the familiar head of his favorite tawny-haired nerd. James hadn’t exactly been keeping the closest eye on Regulus since then but he was slightly alarmed when he realized Reg wasn’t close by. “Fucking great,” James mumbled to himself, trying to finish his drink just as someone knocked his elbow and the entire contents of his red solo cup splashed over his face. “Fuck this.”

James edged his way towards the door and somehow managed to get it open. Getting outside was a relief, being able to smell something other than booze and sweat. He shoved his glass up to the top of his head and lifted his shirt up to wipe his face clean. When he replaced his glasses, he noticed a figure in his periphery. He turned his head to find Regulus leaning against the building smoking a cigarette. He looked a bit like an ad from a magazine, the way his leg was bent so his foot could rest against the wall behind him, his face tilted back to reveal the pale expanse of his neck. James swallowed thickly. He was absolutely not going to fancy his best mate’s little brother. Regulus was Off Limits.

James walked down the front steps of the building and stood in front of Regulus. “Does Sirius know you smoke?” he asked, raising a judgmental eyebrow at the younger man.

“Is it his business?” Regulus countered, taking a long drag from his ciggy and blowing it intentionally in James’ face in a very obvious fuck off.

James waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke and exhaled loudly in disapproval. Christ, he sounded so much like his dad. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”

“Yeah?” Reg said, flicking ash onto the ground below. “What were you imagining? A toddler?”

James shrugged. “You hear the words little brother and you’re not exactly what people picture, alright?”

“Sirius never showed you a picture of me?” Regulus asked, sounding a little hurt by the prospect.

“He has,” James said quickly, not wanting to give Reg the wrong idea. Sirius actually talked about him a lot, constantly worrying about Reg being stuck at home with their awful parents while Sirius was at University. At least next year Reg would be joining them and Sirius could stop being so concerned all the bloody time. “I just think most of the pictures he’s shown me were from when you were a lot younger. Still had your spots.”

Regulus smiled and took another drag. “He’s shown me pictures of you too,” he said, his smile becoming a little more sinister. “The one when you fell asleep drunk and he glued the deer horns to your head.”

James groaned in humiliation. “The next time I see Sirius he’s a dead man!”

Regulus laughed and dropped his cigarette, sliding his designer shoes over it to put it out. “What are friends for, right?”

“Yeah,” James said, trying not to sound sad as he said it. He was happy for Sirius and Remus, he really was. The first few months of Uni had been torture, watching Sirius and Remus dance around each other, both clearly interested but not saying it. It had been a relief to see them finally get over their shit and get together. But that didn’t mean James didn’t miss the old days of the three of them being friends, not that they weren’t still friends, but things had changed.

***

Sirius, of course, went over to Remus’ after the party, leaving James to get Regulus set up on their beat up old sofa. He pulled out the only spare blankets they had, just a thin sheet, and did his best to make it look comfortable. He showed Regulus how to work the telly, in case he wasn’t ready for bed, and then disappeared into his own room.

His curiosity got the best of him and he found Regulus’ instagram fairly easily. He thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t a private account because having Reg know that he was looking was a bit too embarrassing. He began scrolling through the pictures and felt his mouth go dry. Reg knew how to take an amazing photo. James stared in disbelief that the same guy that was currently on his shitty sofa, watching what sounded to be That 70’s Show, could be the same person in these photos.

His eyes were glued to the screen as he swiped through picture after picture, his body heating up in response. Not good, he thought, trying and failing to remind himself that this was Sirius’ younger brother. Kill me now.

He was just about to slid his hand under the covers and do something about the ache between his legs when the door to his room opened. James dropped his phone in surprise and sat up, hoping he wasn’t tenting the blankets in an obvious way.

Regulus made his way over and slipped into James’ bed without asking. James stared at him, his throat working to try and swallow, and he watched in horror and Reg made himself comfortable.

“What are you doing?” James asked, his mind racing, trying to think of anything to make his erection go away.

Regulus shrugged. “It’s freezing and your sofa is a piece of shit.”

“Then go sleep in Sirius’ bed,” James said, dragging his hand over his face. This could not be happening to him.

“It would still be freezing,” Regulus rationalized, sinking further into the blankets. “This way we can share body heat.”

James stared at him incredulously.

Regulus sighed. “Don’t be such a baby, James. Just think of it as survival mode, right?”

James nodded and got back under the covers, taking care that no part of him was touching Regulus. “Good night,” he said awkwardly, his eyes wide open. He didn’t think he’d be getting much sleep.

“Good night.”

***

James woke up feeling good. He was warm and comfortable, and except for the arm he was sleeping on that had gone numb, he felt wholly relaxed. It took a moment for his brain to clear the fog and realize that he was spooning Reg. His nose was pressed against the nape of Reg’s neck and they were slotted together from that point of contact down to their feet. James’ crotch was pressed against Reg’ bum and Christ there was no way he couldn’t feel how hard James was.

Regulus began to stir, his body shifting and James’ hand flew up and grabbed him by the hips to still him. Reg turned his head and smiled wickedly. “Problem, Potter?” he teased, moving his hips just to be a little shit.

James ripped himself away and tore the covers off, heading into the bathroom. He turned the water to as cold as he could stand it and stood under the spray. Not good, he thought having a crisis right there in the shower. Sure, he’d been attracted to blokes before. This wasn’t a sexual identity crisis because James was bi and proud and would kick the shit out of anyone that had a problem with that.

The issue was that this was Sirius’ brother and James was fairly certain Sirius would never forgive him. And more importantly Regulus was only there for the weekend. There was no point to be getting all hot and bothered about it. Except that next year Reg would be at this school with them. Shit, James was so utterly and completely fucked.

Once he’d calmed down, he stepped out of the shower and slung a towel around his waist. He ventured out into the hallway and found Regulus waiting for him. “Have a good cold shower, did we?” he asked, his eyes shinning knowingly.

“Fuck off, Reg,” James growled, pushing past him towards his room.

“You liked one of my pictures,” Reg said to James’ retreating back.

“What?” James asked, spinning around, droplets falling from his skin onto the floor.

Regulus took a step towards him but didn’t close the distance between them any further. “Last night, you liked one of my pictures on Instagram. That’s why I came into your room. I thought maybe you had done it on purpose, but I guess it was just an accident, huh?” Regulus laughed awkwardly and scratched at his eyebrow idly.

James processed what Reg had just said, trying to get past his mortification at having done something so stupid, and went right to Reg coming into his room after knowing James was stalking him online. “So last night…” James started, trying to think of the night words. “Just what were you hoping for?”

“I don’t know,” Reg responded, staring at the floor. “Something like this morning except without the part of you running away like a frightened deer?”

James stepped closer, bridging the gap between them a bit. “Why?” he asked, reaching out and tugging Regulus closer by his sleep shirt. Reg stumbled a bit but went willingly. “You don’t even know me.”

Regulus blushed prettily and ducked his head down. “I feel like I do,” he murmured softly. “On his visits home Sirius would talk about you constantly. You were almost like – fuck – like a fairytale character to me. I kept pressuring Sirius for a visit because I wanted to meet you. God, you must think I’m a stupid little kid with a crush. Please, don’t say anything to Sirius about all this. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

“Then how will I tell him we’re dating?” James asked, smiling mischievously.

Regulus shook his head. “Please don’t take the piss right now,” he begged softly. “I don’t think my ego can handle it after this morning.”

James cupped Regulus’ chin and forced the younger man to meet his gaze. James smiled kindly and traced Reg’s full lips with his thumb. “I wasn’t taking the piss. Although I should probably warn you that I am a bit of a cock-up. I don’t think dating me will be the fairytale you imagined.”

Regulus bit James’ thumb playfully. “I don’t care,” he said, smiling at James. “Even the beast had some good qualities.”

“I notice you’ve cast yourself as beauty in the scenario.”

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” Regulus said, batting his eyelashes.

James chuckled. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he said honestly, “And also trouble.”

Regulus grinned. “You don’t mind a bit of trouble, do you, James?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all.”

#jegulus #i write things #background wolfstar #university au #I've been writing a lot of those lately #long post #fluff #I actually wrote something where they don't kiss #it feels wrong

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