#i forgot my trademark sparkles

[meowzfordayz]

shiny

Author’s Note: sooo this was supposed to be for a college au, secretly dating trope suggestion (as well as for an emergency request for fluff 😅)… but then The H*rny™️ hit 🥴, and uhh, it turned into its own lil thing. 😏

shiny

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, cream!pie, explicit language, Fem!Reader

~faqs~

“Sanemi, don’t you think she’s a little out of your league?”

Obanai’s stern tone does little to soften the reality behind his question, Sanemi once more reminded of why he can only watch—can only yearn—from a safe distance of ten physical feet, five invisible rungs on the social ladder, and one gigantic she-doesn’t-even-know-I-exist problem.

“Nobody’s out of my league,” Sanemi mutters, glare darkening with his trademark scowl, “She’s just shiny, is all. I’m easily distracted.”

“And that’s why you ignore me whenever she happens to be at the same dining hall as us,” Obanai snorts.

“Fuck-” Sanemi’s fork scrapes across his plate.

Raising an eyebrow, Obanai continues, “And also why you terrified those women away from their table.”

“-off,” fork stabbing loudly at his dry chicken.

“That just happened to be across from where she was sitting.”

“I said-” tearing sloppily into the overcooked meat. 

Mask stretching as Obanai grins, he makes his final push, “And forgot to eat your food after she made eye contact with you.”

Mouth full, words muffled, “-f’ck ‘ff!”

“If nobody’s out of your league, then why don’t you say,”—in a breathy, squeaky voice—“Hi, I’m Sanemi!”

Swallowing his bite in a single motion, “I don’t talk like that,” Sanemi glowers, “Besides, shiny things lose their sparkle the moment you touch them.”

“Whatever man,” Obanai scoffs, “Shiny things also tend to hate crude assholes.”

“I’ll crude your fucking asshole.”

Eyes rolling, Obanai switches gears, “So Mitsuri and I-”

Only to be promptly interrupted, fork waved aggressively in his direction, “Don’t fucking start on your goddamn perfect love life.”

“Perfect?” Obanai huffs, whining now, “Dude, you know how long it took for-”

“If this is supposed to be a roundabout pep talk or offering of love advice,” Sanemi stands, half finished plate in one hand, steel grip around his glass with the other as he tilts his head back to chug the remainder of his lemonade, “Just fucking don’t.”

Waiting in lines isn’t your strong suit, fingernails rapidly tapping your lukewarm plate, droplets of water glistening under the too familiar lighting of the dining hall. You’d already scratched off the faint remains of someone else’s lunch, not bothering to search for a new, cleaner plate — they all had some sort of residue. Lifting your gaze to survey the people ahead of you, you’re immediately hindered by the tall, broad stature of a white haired man, the tension in his back muscles emphasized by the tightness of his moss green shirt. Sighing quietly, you notice his neck twitch, the curve of his biceps discernible as his arms—presumably—cross in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, chatter, clang, and hiss of lunchtime swallowing your attempt to get his attention, “Hellooo.”

Somehow, his biceps flex harder, fabric of his shirt’s armholes stretching to accommodate his strength.

“Um, alright,” you mutter, refocusing on your plate, fingernails returning to their tapping, “Never mind, I guess-”

“If you want, you can cut me.”

You blink, vision flashing to the Beautiful purple eyed man turning around to face you.

“Are they real?” you gush, cheeks warming, eyes squeezing shut before you can process any shame.

“Pardon?” a teasing, incredulous lilt lingers in his voice, “I can see, if that’s what you’re-”

“No, like, are they contacts?”

If it wouldn’t hammer the final nail on your coffin of embarrassment, you’d slap yourself right then and there.

“Open your eyes,” he speaks softer now, “I’m not wearing contacts.”

Eyes opening sheepishly, you stick out your free hand, “Nice to meet you, I apologize, you probably get the eyes thing a lot,” they’re too pretty for you to not.

“I’m Sanemi,” he responds evenly, your hand untouched as his jaw clenches, “Are you going to cut me or not?”

“Or not,” you reply quickly, nose scrunching as you glance away, hand dropping limply, “I can wait.”

“Your incessant tapping suggests otherwise,” he—Sanemi—grunts, “If you’re not gonna cut me, then at least be less annoying to everyone else in line.”

You snort, “Are you usually this combative?” pointedly ignoring his jab.

“Usually, I don’t offer up my spot in line.”

“So does that mean I’m special,” you grin now, eyes glittering at the way his brow furrows, “Or just extra annoying?”

“Extra annoying,” he deadpans, “Definitely extra.”

With a friendly pout, you lapse into silence, shuffling forward an insignificant amount, inwardly cursing whoever poorly planned the university budget to short staff the dining halls.

“Y’know, you look familiar.”

Sanemi shrugs, back turned once more to you, shoulder blades rippling with the motion, “Makes sense.”

“What, am I not original enough for you?” you grumble, cheeks warming again as he whips around to glare at you.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaim, “To be nice? To be annoying? Because I’m bored and hangry and this line seems to go on for forever?!”

Lips twitching, he slowly gestures in front of him, still glaring, “Cut me.”

“No!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Before you can protest, he maneuvers himself behind you, impatience radiating from his body, lean muscles barely grazing your bare arms, goosebumps raising when he crosses his own, the view so much more defined from your new perspective. You’re too busy memorizing his physique to notice his reaction to your careful attention; too busy uttering his name under your breath, committing it to heart, to see the blush creep up his collarbones, his neck, his earlobes; too busy finally getting food to catch him opening, closing, then opening his mouth, a hushed And what’s your name? caught beneath hesitation and loneliness.

“Thanks Sanemi,” you say, waving cheerfully, “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

His response falters in his throat as he watches you leave, gaze swiveling to eventually—reluctantly—make eye contact with Obanai. Good effort! Obanai gives him a thumbs up, just as Sanemi groans lowly, flipping him off.

“Sanemi,” you whisper, fingertips walking warmly across his scars, smooth and sensitive to the touch, his breath catching at the light pressure, “Promise me you were sober.”

Body vibrating with quiet laughter, he catches your hand, lips gentle and wet as he kisses each of your fingertips, “I don’t drink,” eyes flitting over to your haphazardly tossed clothing, “And you?”

“I had one,” you murmur, lifting yourself to roll atop him, straddling his waist, thighs sweaty and soft, heat stirring in his groin at the familiar position, “Way before you arrived.”

“Waited for me, hm?” he chuckles smugly, gripping your hips, kneading into your skin, a strangled hiss tightening his lungs as his cum leaks from your slippery folds to his stomach, “Didn’t think I’d see you at a party like this.”

“And I didn’t think you threw parties,” you quip back, reveling in the filthy squelch of your languid grinding, his rigid abdominals flexing shiny and divine against the bump of your clit, “Till your roommate introduced himself, invited me over,” draping yourself over his chest, tits heavy and warm on his sternum, voice promising and heady in his ear, “I didn’t think I’d be getting fucked tonight.”

“Me neither,” Sanemi rasps, cockhead swollen and smearing precum against the plush of your ass, erect again, “Didn’t think you’d show up on my doorstep,” grasping your jaw to present your neck to his bared teeth, nipping greedily, “Looking so fucking gorgeous, like you were begging for someone to devour you,” tongue swiping flat and messy at the hollow of your throat, his hips bucking upward for friction, “Good thing I found you first, hm? Good thing I got to your pretty mouth, to your beautiful cunt, before some other fuck.”

“Sanemi,” you whimper, tugging your head down slightly, just slightly enough to see the dangerous, hazy glint in his purple stare, “W-wasn’t here to f-fuck anyone.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” he teases lightly, releasing your jaw with a final, tender kiss to your chin, “Had me wrapped around your finger the moment I saw you, laughing with your friends in the dining hall, that incredible smile of yours knotting my stomach,” swallowing thickly, dangerous edge fading as quickly as it surfaced, feather soft confession taking its place, “I must’ve become absolutely insufferable,” snorting amusedly, “If Obanai intervened.”

“I forgot to tell you my name,” you admit sheepishly, beginning your own parade of sloppy, heated kisses across the sheen of his collarbones, exertion from his first orgasm still evident, “Thought I missed my shot,” reaching behind you for his cock, deft thumb circling his tip, grinning at his unabashed moan, “Wondered how I could possibly recover from such an encounter with your mesmerizing hair and brilliant eyes,” winking playfully as you squeeze his cock, earning a halfhearted scowl, “Your gentlemanly gesture of saving me from my hanger.”

“Want to feel you again,” is your only warning, and then he’s bullying his cock between your folds, whining sharply as his tip nudges in, rhythm shallow and wanton, gradually stuffing himself further and further into your honeyed, dripping hole, “Fuck,” he grits out, your ass so perfect and weighted atop him, “You feel so fucking good.”

“Is this all you want?” you ask quietly, question nearly lost in the broadness of his chest, pussy clenching tight and overwhelmed around him.

“This?” he manages to scoff, his exasperated, adoring eyes meeting your unsteady, wide gaze, “‘Course not, I want to get to know you, your favorite color, how you look in the morning, what buttons I can push, when to say I’m sorry,” repetitive, gentle grunts underlying his reassurance as he continues thrusting torturously slow, “I’ve got a devastating crush on you, you idiot, so why the fuck would this be all I want?”

“Well you did just call me an idiot,” you giggle, back arching into his movements, his eyes glimmering at the display of your breasts.

He huffs, “Learn it or hate it, but s’my love language.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying this love language,” you drawl, grabbing onto his shoulders, sweat trickling shiny and subtle as you readjust yourself, “I guess I could adapt to ~odd pet names too.”

As Sanemi’s pace hastens, second climax coaxed harsh and unrelenting from your body, he slips one hand from your hip to your sex, palm pressing strong and intense on your clit, the most stunning wail tearing feral and needy across his bedroom as you cum on his cock, thighs squeezing the air from his lungs, fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, neck faintly mottled with the aftermath of his love biting.

Sunlight glows weakly through his blinds, the quiet pulse of your breaths preventing Sanemi from wiggling even an inch, too afraid of shattering the stillness of his dream. Your leg’s slotted comfortable and trusting between his own, fingers pressing soft dots into his chest, a sensation he wishes he could bottle for a rainy day. Thankful for his lack of drinking, and thus, lack of a hangover, his eyes blink closed, basking in the recollection of your unexpected passion, the shine of moonlight on your naked figure, the curve of your smile, hot and welcoming against his mouth.

“So how do I look in the morning?”

Your sleepily murmured question startles him, the uptick in your breathing having gone unnoticed, too deep in his reminiscence. Head tilting to better see you, he smirks fondly, gaze more serene without the exhaustion of the day settled in yet.

“Like you just woke up,” he says nonchalantly, nevertheless breaking into an endeared smile, muscular arm tugging you closer to him, so close you can see the flecks of muted silver in his irises.

“Hm, thank gosh it’s Saturday,” you yawn, limbs stretching in his embrace, toes finding purchase on his ankles, “I definitely did not set an alarm.”

“What dumbass would throw a party on a weekday?”

“Not you,” you retort sweetly, dramatically batting your eyelashes, “You’re not a dumbass.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles.

“Already?” you wink lazily, “Don’t men have a refractory period or something?”

“I only came once last night,” he nearly pouts, hiding his expression in your sunwarmed hair.

“Right,” you chuckle, tender memories of being carefully wiped clean, and then snuggling into him, promptly passing out, floating contentedly through your vision, “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing enough to do this again?” his voice hardens, somehow moving further from you even as his body doesn’t move.

“Didn’t I already ask you that?” you reply gently.

“Yeah.”

Nose crinkling, you poke at his cheek, humming confidently, “I may not have had a devastating crush on you, but I obviously I like you, idiot.”

“Yeeeah,” he sighs.

“So we’re doing this again,” you remark plainly.

“Good,” he finally grins.

“Good,” you grin.

“Ugh,” he scowls, pretending to push you away, only to quickly pull you back into his embrace, pulse thrumming at the momentary distance.

“You weren’t saying that earlier,” you singsong, lightly tucking a longer strand of his hair behind his ear, cooing at its immediate redness, “You think Obanai heard us?”

“Fuck,” Sanemi grimaces, suddenly dreading his next conversation with his best friend.

“Poor guy,” you laugh, tone laced with mock sympathy, “Probably regrets inviting me.”

Shrugging, Sanemi pecks your forehead, voice gravelly as he mutters, “Nah, fuck him.”

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #one shot #college au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

[prophbuilds]

XVX-016 Gundam Aerial [Permet Score Six] – A Review

If you follow my blog, you’d see that I’d recently started in the one MGSD Freedom kit.

You also probably noticed that this Isn’t a review of that kit.

Well… here's the thing. The MGSD is very much an MG kit. I wanted to just do a nice quickie build and there’s nothing better than an HG to scratch that itch without eating up a majority of my time.

So I popped over to my Leaning Tower of Gunpla, snatched the second newest kit off the top and snapped it up. Here's my review of the P-Bandai exclusive HG Gundam Aerial [Permet Score Six].

I’m not going to mince words… the Aerial is just a very solid kit. It snapped up easy, the color separation is excellent and it has only a few flaws in when it comes to the use of C-clip style attachments on the ankles. It's very much a New Kit and it holds up very well.

Comparing my build to reviews of the regular Aerial from others, I can honestly say that this is a kit for folks that want the alternate colors. If you’re the person who like things like the Trans-Am active versions of the Gundam 00 kits, the powered down version of the Gundam SEED kits or the Many many alternate color versions Bandai like to make of other kits… this is for You. If you want an Aerial for your collection... this is a pass.

With that out of the way, it’s on to the rest of the build!

In the box were the expected runners for the Aerial kit. Nothing really new or surprising from what you could find in the basic version. The only extra piece is the Not-A-Base nameplate that was added for display. It’s a Really nice clear blue nameplate with plenty of holes for displaying the shield bits… if you have the extra pieces for that. There’s not much the “Runner" it comes on so you can use that for plastic to make your own. There also isn’t any parts/pieces for a proper base. It is just a nameplate… but I’ll get to all that at the end.

The colors of this kit are neat. The standard Aerial is the classic Gundam color scheme – White, Blue, Red and that odd slightly orange-y Yellow with Dark Grey for the “metal” bits. For the Permet Score Six, Bandai tweaked things a bit but not in an extreme way. The white is a bit greyer. The blue and red parts are a bit more subdued and sneaking toward an almost royal tone. The orange-y yellow is the thing that’s changed the most out of the classic batch. It's now a kinda’ fluorescent yellow-green with a metallic sparkle to it. Same kind of change was made to the dark grey parts. They printed those in the standard metallic Gun Metal Grey that Bandai uses for their “metal” parts.

The big noticeable change from the standard Aerial (and what makes it a Permet Score Six version) is in the clear parts. The Red and Smoked Clear bits are now Blue and Clear with little Blue Sparkly bits respectively.

So how was the build? It was relatively smooth. This was going to be a bog standard straight build but I did come across a small issue. On the Aerial are little bits on the chest that a normally done up in that smoked clear. Since those are now done in the a clear plastic with bits of sparkly blue pieces in it, it goes from being a noticeable part of the chest design to looking like you forgot a piece.

The quick fix I came up with was to use a mix I was going to use on another project of florescent blue and glow-in-the-dark blue acrylic paint. Since these are nearly completely clear parts, I just dropped a little bit of the paint on the back to make it visible without ruining the original sparkly blue effect that Bandai was going for in the plastics.

This brings me to a bit of an odd part when it comes to the big “Special Piece” that is kind of the trademark for the 'Witch from Mercury’ line - the embedded decal.

On the standard Aerial, this is a nice clear with the glowing red Permet effect embedded in the back. This is actually a plus considering the clear plastics on those parts are a smoked color. This lets you see the colors clearer than if you used the reversed metallic stickers on the chest pieces. With this version of the Aerial, the plastics don’t have the extra added smoked color. In fact, it barely has anything beyond a smattering of blue sparkles. Using the special reversed metallic stickers on the plastic works just the same as the special gimmick piece only with that extra sparkle to it.

For mine, I’m going to keep the stickered plastic parts installed on the kit and keep the gimmick parts on hand elsewhere as this is actually a viable option for this version of the Aerial.

Overall, this is a solid kit. I love the slight color changes Bandai made but I’m also one of those builders who actively seeks out Alt Colored kits. As of the writing of this review, I have an RX-78 Mk2 on my pile that’s done in the "Real Type" colors. I like having kits that are slightly changed from the originals. I also paint my kits from time to time so that’s not a terrible surprise. What makes it so I wouldn’t outright recommend folks buy  this kit over the regular Aerial is what’s not there.

There's nothing that screams Premium Bandai in this P-Bandai kit.

Here are the changes in a nutshell:

A Slightly shifted color scheme.

Almost completely clear plastics.

Blacklight reactive green effect parts for the beam sabers and the gun.

A clear blue nameplate that could be used as a base.

A sticker sheet with some nice tech/warning decals, the title in black on white (Possibly for the nameplate for some reason?) and a whole set of large logos for the various factions from the show.

That’s it. That’s not really “P-Bandai”. That’s like a Gundam Base Exclusive – enough changes to make the trip worth it but nothing to terribly amazing that the average builder would feel like they’re missing it from their collection. Hell, even the box art (as beautiful as it is) is the standard style for a regular release. P-Bandai box art is nice but monochrome and generally clear kits or have extra parts and pieces or are straight up kits you can’t get elsewhere like the GP00 Engage Zero or a basic RG Astray Blue Frame that isn’t tricked out with more blades than a knife shop.

If this kit came with Anything extra – A pair of open hands like the ones that come with the (sold separately) Mirasoul Flight Unit, posts to make the Not-A-Stand Nameplate into an actually usable stand, maybe some waterslide decals (?) – then I'd say it's a valid option and it’d feel more like a P-Bandai release. As it stands… the best I can say is buy it if you want the Aerial in with blue Permet parts. If not, you can totally buy the regular Aerial kit and not miss anything important.

Still! This was fun build. If alt colors are your jam and you don’t mind paying the P-Bandai tax, I say go for it. If you’re like me and you have "Plans", this is kind of a must buy so you can have the whole family looking proper. = )

#Gunpla #MS Gundam #The Witch from Mercury #XVX-016 Gundam Aerial [Permet Score Six] #HG #Straight Build

[niskoo]

— KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairing: boyfriend(s)! enhypen x reader

genre: fluff, very slight angst in sunoo's part

warnings: swearing

word count: 200-250 words per member

a/n: okay I know i said i was back but i have to go again IDUJHFD i have finals in a week in the meantime enjoy this little thing i thought of!!

networks: @enhypennetwork

*･༓☾ LEE HEESEUNG

— hello/goodbye kisses

A small thing you've done very often with no thought, after the first time, it almost became addicting and such a natural thing to do. Whether you were going out to the library for a study, or Heeseung heading to the gaming cafe, heck, even coming back from anywhere, there has to be at least a small peck hello or goodbye.

Heeseung softly opens the door, only to find the comforting sight of you snoozing on your bed with quiet snores falling from your lips. He had come back late at night due to studying for finals, and completely forgot about the time.

"Hey baby," He whispers quietly as he slips in next to you, tapping your cheek softly.

A smile curls his lips up when you hum and stir awake, growing bigger when you smile up at him with sparkling eyes. "You're back?"

Before he can respond, you grab at his sweatshirt and pull him down to connect your lips together, almost smiling against each other. It's a short, sweet kiss, but it makes Heeseung all soft inside and crave much more.

But instead, he simply pulls away, and mumble about wanting to catch up on some sleep.

*･༓☾ PARK JONGSEONG

— romantic hand kisses

Happened the very first time you met Jay Park, your friend Jake had introduced you to each other, and to say you were swooned the moment he placed his lips softly ont he back of your hand would very much be an understatement. Ever since, it's become a thing that happened ever so often, but never failed to get you flustered.

"Good morning, my love," Jay mumbles as he walks into the dining room, where you were, munching on your breakfast.

"Hey," You simply mumble back through a mouthful of cereal. Jay chuckles upon the sight of you, his significant other, sleepily blinking up at him with a silly milk mustache.

You think nothing of it when Jay picks your hand up with his, tangling your fingers together, "So, do you want some cereal too? Or-"

Your breath hitches at your throat and seems to stay there as Jay holds your hand up to his lips and softly presses them against each other. Soft, affectionate, almost too much for you to handle at 8 in the morning.

"Babe you can't just do that you know it does things to me,"

*･༓☾ SIM JAEYUN

— clumsy kisses

The first time Jake kissed you, it was a very messy and clumsy kiss, in hopes of getting you to swoon for him despite being his best friend. Truth be told, you swooned for him way before he knows, but you still swooned at that moment nonetheless. Now, it's like a small trademark in your relationship to have clumsy kisses here and there, full of silly smiles and laughs.

"Noooo! Why'd the dog have to die!"

Movie nights with Jake Sim is possible the best nights of your life, filled with lots of snack, cuddles, and Layla, yes, the perfect nights. Your home away from home.

Though you have to say, you don't particularly like Jake's choice of movie tonight. Sure, the plot was fantastic and great, but the dog died and that's a definite flag for you.

"It's always the dog! Why does it always have to be the dog?!"

Jake chuckles at your protests, and begins to laugh heartily when you throw pieces of popcorn at his laptop screen, "Babe, it's just a movie,"

Before you could mutter more complaints under your breath, Jake had clasped two fingers on your chin, turned your head, and crashed his lips messily on yours. In an instant, your frown curls back up into a smile, feeling Jake's own smile against yours.

It's a sweet, very messy kiss, growing messier as you loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer. At this point you frankly don't care about the movie, it's still 2 stars from you.

Jake, however, has got to be 10 stars alright.

*･༓☾ PARK SUNGHOON

— gentle kisses

Sunghoon likes to keep his kisses just like you, gentle. Loves how intimate and loving it feels, and never wants to let go. The first time he kissed you ever so gently, you became ecstatic, becoming smiley all day and he adored it. Go to kiss whenever he meets up with you.

Your lips seem strangely alluring to Sunghoon. It maybe the worst time to think that, as you were literally ranting and letting out your weekly stress because of so many assignments, but he really can't help. How they purse and part with each word you say, it's almost calling him in.

You stop to look at your boyfriend, who had been awfully quiet as you raged, finding him wide eyed, staring at something around your chin. Did you perhaps spit or something? "What?"

Sunghoon's fingers encircle around your wrist and he tugs you softly towards him to lean down and softly push his lips between yours. It's all so sudden, though when you relax, it's as soft as ever, leaving your breathless once again.

You part just for a spilt second, sucking in breaths, before your lips meet again and you sigh. Sunghoon's gentle kisses never failed to make you soft.

*･༓☾ KIM SUNOO

— cheek kisses

The most loving sensation you've ever felt, Sunoo's extra special cheek kisses, as he would like to call them. They truly were extra special, not only one kiss to the cheek, but multiple butterfly kisses traced along one cheek to the other. You do this to Sunoo too sometimes, and he calls them your extra extra special cheek kisses.

It's times like these when you really need comfort, those days where you feel extremely tired from all the school work and just everything in general. It's times like these where you long for comfort. And comfort you have, perched right next to you, with his hand softly stroking along your hair and hugging you every so tightly.

Kim Sunoo knew every time when you feel down, how could he not? Your not so subtle sighs and drowsy, glossy eyes staring up at him, it's like you were begging to be comforted.

Just as you feel a tear trickle down your cheek, the cold feeling is gone, instead a soft sensation of Sunoo's lips kissing the tear away replaces it's spot, before he starts pecking affectionately along your cheeks with extra care. His hands hold your face in place as his lips travel from your cheek, along your nose bridge, all the way to your other cheek.

His extra special cheek kisses feel especially extra at these times, when you need him the most.

*･༓☾ YANG JUNGWON

— forehead kisses

Not too intimate, not too little, just right for your relationship. You're still trying to figure things out, but you know one thing, that the both of you die for forehead kisses. Just so soft and simple, not too much for you to have trouble attempting. Jungwon once tried it and found you became so much more comfortable about intimate things now.

You stare hardly down at the physics text book you brought along with you to the library, a small burning fire of determination flaring within you to study for the physics test you had next week.

You would totally ask your big brain boyfriend to tutor you, but he's already been tutoring so many people, you didn't dare bother him more.

So instead, you used the small study tips and guide he gave you a few weeks ago when you asked for some. To your surprise he left lots, and made your own little brochure of a study guide just for you.

Boyfriend of the month? Yang Jungwon for sure.

Though, you find yourself finding it hard to study physics, with all it's terms and formulas, it became a lot harder than you thought.

To your surprise, just an hour later, you find Jungwon sitting next to you with his own physics text book. He offered to help you, but you refused politely, requesting to study on your own and have your own self satisfaction.

"Alright, whatever you say," You grow a bit disappointed at his response, before you become shocked at the small peck he leaves your forehead. Small, subtle, but very impactful on you. You suddenly feel very determined.

*･༓☾ NISHIMURA RIKI

— butterfly kisses scattered along one's face

First time he pulled this, Niki found comfort in the laughs you let out, and the feeling of your skin against his lips, he grew satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time. He craved more and more until he's done it so many times that you know just when he's going to do it. Niki finds it awfully giddy when you do it to him too.

Niki's house seems more of a home to you than your own house, and yours to him. You think it's because of how his mother never fails to spoil you and offer you to sleepover. She's a true sweetheart.

And Bisco is especially someone you love too, as if she was the pet you never had.

(idk if bisco is a girl or boy even niki forgot himself LMAOO)

In the midst of petting the dog and scrolling through instagram, sudden rapid footsteps resonate through the hallway, and before you know it, Niki has rushed next to you and flopped his whole body on top of you.

"RIKI!"

You are cut off by your own laughs when Niki starts pecking all over your face, trailing from your chin, to your cheeks, all the way to your eyelids, he showers his love and laughs along against your skin when you try to push him off.

Though, you want to pull him closer as well and show your love in the form of deathly grips people like to call 'hugs'.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypennetwork #enhypen angst #enhypen drabbles #enhypen blurbs #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x reader #park jongseong #park jongseong imagines #park jongseong x reader #park sunghoon #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon x reader #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun x reader #kim sunoo #kim sunoo imagines #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon x reader #nishimura riki #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura riki x reader

[ahgaseda]

aura | one

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

The sun was too bright. Rays pierced the gossamer curtains and shone into your eyes. You vaguely recollected your mother bursting in and throwing the windows open, ordering you to get up. Now, the sun had risen and you were cutting it close.

With a grumble, you threw the blanket over your head and rolled over, eager to sleep the day away. And maybe tomorrow, too.

Being in a constant state of denial and dread was exhausting.

Slowly, you drifted back into a dream. Well, maybe less a dream and more a memory. Perhaps it was all a fantasy at this point, the way you recounted it, lingering on only the good parts.

You remembered every insignificant detail of that night - the night you reached your greatest high and deepest low in the span of an hour. The moon had been full and the crickets were singing. The air had cooled from its typical summer heat, but the dirt was warm beneath your bare toes.

Sneaking off in the middle of the night with a boy. You would have never in your wildest dreams done something so reckless.

But he said he wanted to watch the stars and kiss you beneath the moonlight. Endlessly. You escaped with him down the beaten path, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Then, he backed you against a tree and kissed you like he had completely run out of patience.

You remembered smiling against his mouth, giggling when his tongue teased your bottom lip. Your hands were on his shoulders while he cradled your face. At some point, you broke away and he stared at the sparkles in your eyes.

“I love you,” was all he said. The first of many lies.

You followed him. It didn’t matter where he went, you were ready to follow him off the edge of the earth if he asked. Jaebeom held you so tenderly, yet tight and secure. You had no hesitations and certainly no regrets when he laid you on your back, kissing you restlessly.

But it was a lie.

You moaned his name when Jaebeom pressed his lips to your neck. You could still remember how your heart thundered uncontrollably whilst he tongued his way between your breasts. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted Jaebeom. The boy who made you fall in love with him.

But it was all a lie.

Even the way you whimpered when he took you was a persistent echo in your mind. The noises he had drawn from you were carnal, to say the least. His skin was hot beneath your fingertips, his hair damp when you tangled your hand through his strands, and his naked body heavy on top of yours. He kissed you with such gentle affection when he buried himself inside you.

But it was still a lie.

You truly believed he was making love to you, every last inch of you. He was all you knew in that moment. With Jaebeom, you lived like there was no tomorrow. And you would never forget the way his face tensed with ecstasy, how he groaned your name when he filled you. All you cared about in that moment was his pleasure - his love. It was all you ever wanted.

But it was his biggest lie.

You opened your eyes, tears escaping down your cheeks, and forced away the bitter memories. Every beautiful moment spent with Jaebeom kept coming back and you wanted to set them all aflame until you forgot every single fucking detail.

You remembered how he smelled, how he felt. How his arms flexed around you when he hugged you close. How he smiled when he made you laugh. How he kissed your hand at the most random of times. How he whispered his love into the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

Your heart couldn’t take it anymore. What was once sugar on your tongue turned to ash and dust in your mouth. You didn’t think you were capable of this much pain.

Jaebeom had taught you a very hard lesson. And yet, though you would never admit it to anyone, you still loved him.

Suddenly, the door to your bedroom burst open and a familiar voice announced, “Rise and shine, dear!”

It belonged to your best friend, your childhood rival, and most inconveniently, your next door neighbor.

“Jackson,” you groaned, muffled against your pillow. “Not now. Go away.”

“Baby, you know we on a schedule,” he chirped with the speed of a man who had already ingested too much coffee, grabbing your comforter and ripping it off the bed without mercy.

You cried out at the unexpected cold on your bare legs, curling into the fetal position to try and trap some warmth to your body. You then bounced lightly on the mattress as Jackson leapt into the air and landed on your bed in the most spectacular fashion.

His face moved predictably before yours, inches away, and he was sporting a grin that could be filed under Jackson’s trademarked twisted delight. “It’s camp day,” he said excitedly.

You blinked. “I know.”

Jackson sat up and reached over to smack your butt. “Get up,” he yelled, sidling off your bed. “Breakfast will get cold.”

You huffed profanities under your breath and clambered after him.

Downstairs, your mother and stepfather sat at the kitchen table. Maids attended to them, waiting on their every move. Such was commonplace in the penthouses of preternaturally wealthy people.

“Ah, I knew you could handle it, Jackson,” your mother crooned.

Jackson plopped down at one end of the table, opposite your stepfather with his nose buried in a newspaper. You finished tying the knot of your fluffy bathrobe and took the empty seat across from your mother.

“Everything is packed and loaded in the car,” she informed, her tone a little harsher where you were concerned.

“I promise, Mom,” you began, eyes cast downward. “I won’t go back there again.”

It was true. You were so caught up in negative ways of coping that by the time you realized you were going to get yourself sent back to the one place you would be forced to see Jaebeom again, it was too late.

“Well, if only you had found that resolve last year,” she chided, stabbing a piece of melon with her fork.

You clocked a glance at your friend. Jackson happily stuffed his face, eating everything in sight. Despite living in the penthouse next to yours, with his equally wealthy parents, Jackson opted to eat at your table more often than not.

Preferably so he wouldn’t have to listen to his parents fighting.

“Can we expect the same promise from you, Jackson?” your mother asked, as if she were speaking to her favorite puppy.

She always did love Jackson. He was like the son she never had. Although, in her defense, it wasn’t hard to love Jackson. He was the golden child that every mother’s wet dream was made of.

“Absolutely not,” he retorted politely, grinning from ear to ear. “Some of my closest friends are at that camp.”

Your mother chuckled, having expected as much.

Your stepfather finally lowered the corner of his paper and called your name sternly, as if oblivious - or uncaring - to the conversation taking place.

You glanced up.

“Eat your food. It’s a long drive and I’ll hear nothing of you getting faint on your first day.”

Jackson and your mother both looked to you expectantly.

You flashed him a soft smile and said, “Yes, sir.”

Stepfather number three, despite having more money than God, was surprisingly kind and considered you one of his own. There was a time you overheard him say you were the daughter he always wanted. His three sons had far surpassed mischief and landed in deviance, always on the hunt for his money.

The maid offered sweetly to make you some breakfast, whatever you would like, and you accepted. Jackson swiftly reached over and pinched your cheek in approval.

Most respectable parents would never be so lenient toward a friendship between a girl and a boy, but you knew your mother was hoping you and Jackson would get together. It would be a fine match in high society, given the status of your fathers.

Matter of fact, when she walked in on the two of you eating chocolate and watching movies while cuddled in bed, she was thoroughly disappointed you weren’t having sex.

When you finished eating, you dragged your feet upstairs to your room to get dressed for the trip. Jackson took a few extra minutes to clear his plate and then joined you.

Standing in front of three full panel mirrors in your bra and underwear, you alternated holding skirts up to yourself in the reflection. Jackson folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“What does one wear for total humiliation?” you asked dryly, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Plaid probably,” he quipped, uncrossing his arms and slipping into your closet.

You turned, brow furrowed, and waited for him to come back.

When Jackson finally emerged, he tossed you a t-shirt and jeans. Casual at its finest.

You caught the clothes and surveyed them in surprise. “Really?”

“Put ‘em on,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s blow this town.”

You pulled the extra tight jeans on, fastening them with a huff, and pestered, “Do you have to be this excited?”

Jackson came close, taking your face between his hands and pushing your cheeks together. “The sooner we get there, the faster we can get drunk.”

You snickered, rolling your eyes.

The two of you came thundering down the stairs, reminiscent of times you and Jackson slid down the banisters as noisy kids. Your mother waited stiffly at the door, almost cracking a smile when you galloped into the kitchen and pressed a kiss in farewell to your stepfather’s cheek.

She may have been after his money like a cat on a mouse, but she inadvertently found a decent father for her only daughter.

Jackson said his hurried, loud goodbyes and slipped through the open door. You slowed down long enough to take your jacket from your mother’s waiting hand and endure one last scrutinizing gaze.

“Is he seeing someone?” she asked softly.

“Nope,” you chuckled, having expected some backhanded remark about your outfit.

Your mother spoke like she read a whimsical poem, “The two of you would make the most perfect couple this side of the Hudson.”

“Love you, too, Mom,” you teased, pecking a kiss on her cheek and trotting out the door.

The limousine rolled out onto the busy streets of New York City and you peered through the tinted windows. You watched as the looming skyscrapers turned to towering green trees.

As the drive went on, your nerves only grew.

With misplaced optimism, you turned to Jackson and said, “Maybe he won’t be there this year.”

Jackson didn’t even look up from his magazine and droned, “He’s been there every year since he was seven.”

You slumped in your seat, defeated. Clapping a hand on your forehead in self-chastisement, you groaned, “I should have been better, not worse.”

Jackson shifted, leaning back against you and resting his head on your chest. “I’ve never seen you so out of control,” he exclaimed, turning a page in the magazine. “And that says a lot.”

It said plenty. Jackson had warned you about Jaebeom many, many times. Though you held his opinion in high regard, you didn’t listen. You were blinded by love and had no one to blame but yourself.

You grabbed a handful of his brown hair and tugged playfully, earning a tiny whine. “Yeah, well,” you murmured, acerbic. “He stole all of the goodness out of me.”

Jackson scoffed and his tone became stern, “Don’t give him so much credit. And don’t put all of your goodness on your virginity, for fuck’s sake.”

You sighed loudly, thinking about Jaebeom and how he made your pulse race, how he sent fire racing down your spine. The thought of him made you want to cry and you quickly clenched your jaws.

“It’s true though, isn’t it? I’m a bad girl now,” you countered, draping your arm over his chest. “I surrendered my virtuous flower to a boy who added another notch to his bed post.”

Of your memories with Jaebeom, and they were countless, among the stolen kisses and soft touches and sweet words, one stood out above all the rest. The last time you saw him - when he told you it was all a lie, just a game.

That he never loved you.

Jackson sat up, setting down his magazine and facing you. He could feel where your thoughts had wandered, screaming at him to ease the pain despite no words leaving your mouth. Meeting your eyes, Jackson wanted you to hear him even though the two of you had been over it many times already.

“You loved him,” he said, sympathetic but firm. “And he made it a good experience for you. Take that away from it.”

“You’re right,” you replied with a nod, holding back the tears and the quivering of your lip. “I need to let it go.”

Jackson cocked his head and pressed, “But?”

He knew you too well.

“But I can’t,” you whispered, lowering your head to hide your face in shame. “I can’t get over being in love with someone who never - not even for a moment - loved me back.”

Jackson balled his hands into fists. It had taken every inch of his goddamn restraint not to hop a plane, show up at Lim Jaebeom’s house, and beat the living shit out of him. You and his mother were the only people he was willing to go to jail for.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wiped away the one tear that had escaped. You hated Jackson having to see you like this, staring at you like his precious wounded puppy. With a shrug, you gave a scoff and said, “I wonder who he will have his eyes on this year.”

Jackson frowned and settled back into his seat, shaking his head where the likes of Jaebeom was concerned. He knew three months of unadulterated fun for him were going to be total misery for you. For days he racked his brain over what he could do to help you get over Jaebeom.

Then, the metaphorical light bulb clicked over his head. Who would Jaebeom be pursuing this year? With you crossed off his list, there were simply no more challenges to be had.

Jackson smirked. The solution to this problem was clear as day. He would have to make Jaebeom chase you again.

“I have an idea,” Jackson muttered under his breath, eyes gleaming with devilish intent.

“Oh, boy,” you laughed, recognizing his telltale mischief.

Jackson faced you, propping himself on hands positioned at either side of your legs. “You help me bag Yeona and I will help you make Jaebeom jealous,” he said, letting his tongue linger at the corner of his mouth.

Your expression registered nothing but surprise. Yeona was the bane of Jackson’s romantic skills and the eye of his conquests for years. She was the only girl at camp not the least bit impressed with him and that drove him crazy.

At that thought you realized the similar dynamic. “Do you think that would work?” you asked curiously, piqued.

Relieved to see your approval, Jackson nodded. “He’s like me. He wants what he can’t have.”

To some degree, Jackson added in his head. He and Jaebeom had totally different motivations for stealing hearts.

You questioned in disbelief, “So… what? We just walk around making out all the time?”

Jackson snorted. “Within moderation, obviously. Don’t want to completely turn off either of our targets.”

One of the main reasons you never hooked up with Jackson (on more than one occasion you had been tempted) was to spite your insufferable mother after what she had put you through. That being said, you had kissed him more than once. Usually when dared to do so at parties or during sleepovers when you bared your deepest, darkest secrets to each other. It was always innocent, but this felt forbidden and impure.

You loved the idea.

“Hm, okay,” you said, noncommittal. “At this point, I’ll do anything to make him as miserable as I am.”

Jackson grinned and chuckled. “Take my word for it. There is nothing more miserable than blue balls.”

You pursed your lips, mulling, “He’s already had me. He won’t want me again.”

“I’ll convince him you’re worth having,” Jackson replied, his voice a deep rumble in his throat. “And you’ll do the same to Yeona about me.”

“What makes you think Yeona will be that hard to get? You’ve never really pursued her before.”

Jackson slid to the edge of the seat and reached for a bottle of alcohol currently sitting on ice. “She doesn’t believe in sex before marriage.”

That explained why he threw in the towel so quickly. You cocked a brow and chuckled, “Really?”

Jackson nodded, popping open the bottle of champagne and grabbing two glasses. “Yeah, even wears a promise ring.”

“Wow, that’s commitment,” you smarted, taking the flute of bubbly he extended to you.

Jackson glanced up briefly before pouring his own glass, hair falling in his eyes, and said, “Don’t wallow in self-pity again.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly defended, “No, I’m not. It’s just… I wasn’t saving myself for marriage, but I was saving myself for someone that loved me.”

Jackson exhaled loudly.

You hated hearing his disappointment and ranted irritably, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. It wasn’t even good. There was no leg shaking orgasm. It was messy and uncomfortable and whatever.”

“That’s because it was your first time,” Jackson said, putting the glass to his lips.

You took a sip. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jackson leaned on his side, sizing you up. His eyes drifted up and down your body. He hated seeing you bent out of shape over a boy, least of all hot garbage like Lim Jaebeom.

After a pause, the following words dripped like honey off his tongue, “We could fool around, you know.”

You almost choked on your champagne, wondering if you heard him clearly or if it was a figment of your imagination. You exclaimed, “What?”

“You and me,” Jackson continued, sidling closer. “I could show you what all the fuss is about.”

He sounded so smug when he said that, his voice even deeper. You swallowed at the offer and asked, “Would that be awkward?”

“No, it would just be sex. No strings attached.”

The knife in your heart twisted and you peered at him. “Could you make me forget about Jaebeom?”

Jackson leaned in. “Baby, I could make you see stars.”

Heat flushed behind your cheeks and you glanced away, faltering under the sudden tension in the limousine. “I’ll think about it,” you finally told him.

Satisfied, Jackson grinned and made himself comfortable, opening the magazine again and proceeding to read.

You surveyed Jackson out of the corner of your eye, lingering on his thick thighs. Years of fencing had built him strong, sturdy. When Jackson said he could make you see stars, you were inclined to believe him.

Especially since the vast majority of his exes tended to brag about how good he was in bed.

You thought about Jaebeom. You wanted him to go crazy at the sight of you in Jackson’s arms. You craved revenge, to serve him a taste of his own medicine, no matter what it cost.

The car eventually came to a stop on the gravel road. Attendants were ready to unload your luggage and transport it to your respective rooms. It may have been a camp for unruly brats, but said brats came from very affluent parents.

An older woman stood by the gate, black hair glistening a little too fiercely in the sunlight. Clearly she had sprayed dye on her graying roots.

“Ah, you two again,” she grimaced at yours and Jackson’s approach.

You took the keys from her outstretched hand and continued on your way without a word. Jackson on the other hand, leaned in with puckered lips and jeered, “Always a pleasure, Miss Hamm.”

“Hmph.”

You continued on the path with your best friend in tow. Your cabin was in sight, on the bluff beside the lake. Jackson’s was adjacent, slightly lower down. Your parents made sure you had the same spots each year, always furnished and equipped with everything you needed.

Some of the campers lived in bunkhouses with other roommates, but not you. Your first year, you swore to your mother if you were forced to bunk with other girls you would not stop until you got yourself sent home. It was an easy compromise to make. She loved traveling during the summer with stepfather number two.

You stopped and pivoted to Jackson, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

“Alright,” he replied. “Meet at the mess hall?”

Naturally his mind was on food, you mused. “Of course.”

Jackson looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, “Don’t hide in there from him. Remember - I got your back.”

You nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek in gratitude.

The two of you broke away at the fork in the road, taking opposite paths to your cabins.

Dropping your purse, you plopped down on the brand new mattress, gripping the sides and looking down at your shoes. The air conditioning had been turned on, the cabin had already cooled off. You would never know how hot it was outside whilst inside your pink-themed prison.

The camp was meant to reform. It didn’t matter that you were a legal adult, you still belonged to a rich and influential family in high society. It was like the parents knew their spoiled, entitled children would indulge in bad behaviors, therefore it was best they did so in controlled environments.

You already imagined the endless nights of booze and debauchery awaiting you for the next three months. Maybe it was time you embraced the darker side of life like you used to, rather than wasting away and pining over a boy.

Rising from the bed, you approached the nearby bathroom and braced your hands on the sink. Studying your reflection, you wanted to curse. You looked like a shadow of your former self.

The girl you knew was confident, vivacious, and a rebel to the core. You were quieter now, tempered. An experience like last summer had opened your eyes to how cruel the world really was.

Still, you were ready to buck up. Jackson had a plan and you were willing to execute if it meant you would have some kind of absolution. Splashing water on your face, you dabbed your cheeks with a cloth and headed outside.

The largest of the buildings, the mess hall was loud and chaotic. The majority of kids went straight to the line for food, hungry after a long trip. The place was alive with a hundred different conversations, varying levels of chatter. Friends reunited dramatically in the aisleways.

You searched for a friendly face, desperate to avoid Jaebeom for now, and spotted a head of platinum hair. Approaching the scrawny boy, you grabbed a handful of blond locks and teased, “Bam, I thought you were gonna let your poor scalp breathe?”

Bambam didn’t flinch at the brief tug on his head and turned to meet your grin with one of his own. “Hey, beautiful,” he exclaimed, leaping up to envelope you in a warm hug. “Thought you were gonna try and avoid this place for once?”

“Yeah, well,” you said coolly with a shrug. “Bad behaviors are hard to break.”

“You’re telling me,” huffed Bambam as he lowered back onto the row with you at his side. “I landed myself back here in the first week of the semester.”

You laughed, smoothing down where you had disrupted his hair. “I expect nothing less.” Looking across the table, you met eyes with Bambam’s best friend and partner in crime, Yugyeom, and greeted, “Hey, Yugy.”

“Hi. I’m glad you came back! Well, not glad, obviously, but…,” Yugyeom rambled, cheeks reddening. “Happy you’re here. You know, it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Thanks,” you replied shyly.

“Any sign of Jackson?” Bambam asked, glancing around. “Don’t you always come together?”

Yugyeom kindly pushed his plate of fruit in your direction and you thanked him. “Yeah, we did. He was supposed to meet me here,” you answered, popping a grape in your mouth.

“Probably sneaking a smoke with Mark,” Bambam grumbled quietly under his breath.

Yugyeom cleared his throat loudly, looking at something behind you.

Just as you turned around, brows stitched, someone sat at your side.

It was Jaebeom.

He didn’t face the table like the rest of you, he straddled the seat, squarely in your direction.

“Hi, baby girl. Imagine my surprise when I heard about all the trouble you got yourself into,” Jaebeom taunted, clicking his tongue in feigned reproach. His fingertips came to your temple, slipping through your loose hair and tucking it behind your ear.

You couldn’t breathe and you certainly couldn’t think. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He smelled so good. The mere touch of his fingers made you freeze in place. You wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“I…,” you trailed, hesitating, lost for words. What the hell were you supposed to say?

I love you, but I hate you.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jaebeom cooed, stroking a finger over your cheek. “Cat got your tongue?”

You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes. Even Yugyeom seethed at how Jaebeom was toying with you.

This was the humiliation you had been anticipating and dreading. You knew Jaebeom wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to remind you that he stole your heart and your virginity and left you with nothing.

The whole camp knew that you had given it up. That you had been such a fool to believe for a second that Jaebeom loved you.

Blind. Blind. Blind, you chanted in your head.

Jackson appeared out of thin air, grabbing Jaebeom’s wrist and pulling him from you. “Can I help you find something?” your best friend snapped.

Jaebeom rose, agitated at being challenged. “The fuck are you doing, Wang?”

Jackson drifted closer to Jaebeom, aggressive. “Keep your hands off my girl.”

Jaebeom’s eyes widened. “Your girl?”

“You heard me,” Jackson hissed, turning to you.

You remembered the game. Jackson’s eyes were expectant.

Finding your voice, you took a breath. “I’m so sorry to break the news to you, Jaebeom,” you began softly, rising from your seat and backing into Jackson, who didn’t miss a beat in wrapping his arms possessively around you. “I’ve moved onto bigger and better things. And I mean much, much bigger.”

Bambam beat his fist on the table, cackling wildly.

Jaebeom scowled, but there was skepticism bold in his eyes. Jackson promptly wiggled his brows and stroked his hands on your waist, intentionally making your shirt ride up.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” you sang, interlacing your fingers with Jackson’s underneath the hem of your shirt. “We’re gonna go make out in the hallway. Seeing Daddy get territorial really does it for me.”

Jackson wagged his tongue at Jaebeom, gladly laughing at his expense, as you squeezed his hand and proceeded to drag your best friend behind you into the hallway.

Jaebeom watched you go, eyes narrowed. Something didn’t sit right with him. He had known you for years, Jackson too. He couldn’t imagine driving you into Jackson’s arms. Not with how fierce and loyal your friendship was.

He didn’t believe it for a second.

Once in the clear, you backed against the wall and giggled. “Oh my god, did you see his face?” you exclaimed, covering your mouth as you chuckled.

Jackson tickled your sides and joked, “Look at your little sick and twisted self. I’m so proud.”

The door next to you opened and like clockwork, Jaebeom stepped out.

The grin vanished from your face in an instant and you quickly grabbed Jackson by the collar, yanking him forward. Jackson collided into you none too gently and grunted, silenced only by your lips suddenly on his.

Jaebeom could hardly believe his eyes. There you were, swept up in Jackson’s arms with your tongue down his throat. He was green with fucking envy. It had taken him a whole summer to open you up and now you were throwing yourself at Jackson of all people.

Jackson slipped his hands beneath your shirt and roamed his hands up your sides, giving Jaebeom a glimpse of your soft skin. You overlapped your arms around his head, making little noises in the heat of his kisses.

Jaebeom felt a twitch in his pants at the sounds you made. That was supposed to be him. You were supposed to be in his arms, kissing him like he was all you had thought about every day since he ripped your heart out and crushed it in his hand for all to see.

“Pfft,” Jaebeom snorted, hiding his jealousy. “Glad I could break her in for you, Jacks.”

Neither of you heard him, which was lucky for Jaebeom because Jackson would not have hesitated to beat him to a bloody pulp.

Jaebeom cleared out. He couldn’t stand to watch anymore. Not when he had spent every day wondering if you would forgive him. Jaebeom shook his head as he continued down the hall, reminded what a stupid fucking mistake he had made.

Kissing Jackson made you forget what you were doing, where you were, and basically any and all information you were meant to be processing at the moment. Finally a sense of clarity hit you, though you had no earthly clue where it had come from.

Breaking away, you panted, “Okay, if we’re gonna do this, we have to lay down some ground rules.”

Jackson kneaded your waist and nipped at your lips, ever flirtatious. His voice came out a rasp when he said, “Give ‘em to me.”

“No sleeping around,” you told him sternly. “I’ve never had a sexually transmitted disease and I’m not starting now.”

Jackson bobbed his head, eager to kiss you again. “Deal.”

“When you get Yeona or I get Jaebeom, what’s between us is done.”

“Agreed.”

You softened, pulling him close for a brief, innocent peck on the lips. It wasn’t the first time you had kissed Jackson and it wouldn’t be the last.

But you realized when you were kissing Jackson, you forgot about Jaebeom and your feelings.

And that was dangerous.

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered delicately, tracing hair from his brow lightly with your fingers. “If either of us starts getting feelings, we shut this down.”

Jackson studied you a moment. He knew he loved you. He had loved you a long time. But it was an innocent love, not a complicated one. You were the only person he trusted with his heart. The only person he knew would never hurt him.

He wouldn’t catch feelings for you, would he? It wasn’t in his nature. He didn’t allow himself to get attached romantically. He hated the idea of commitment or monogamy, after seeing what his parents’ marriage had devolved into.

“Got it,” Jackson finally said, offering a gentle smile.

You swallowed, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. Jaebeom was gone. There was no one to convince anymore.

Jackson let his hands slip from your body. “We should go back.”

You nodded. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

Jackson noted the heat on your face, the glistening of your lips and the twinkles in your eyes. Forget making you see stars, Jackson knew in that moment he could absolutely ruin you.

He gathered you back in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and as you peered up at him confusedly, Jackson growled, “Let’s go to my cabin.”

A long, heavy silence wrapped around you and him. The weight of what you were doing landed squarely on your shoulders. And despite that, you found yourself not giving a damn.

Lips tugging in a smile, you purred, “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

But even as Jackson led you by the hand out of the mess hall, you glanced over your shoulder, looking for Jaebeom.

Wanting him to see. Wanting it to hurt him. Wanting to make him crazy.

But mostly, just wanting him to love you.

next chapter →

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[genuinelydecimated]

Eremin Week 2021 day 6: Childhood

Their wedding was going perfect. Was. The whole day was going perfect until someone decided to bring up the fact that this was technically their second wedding.

AU where Eren and Armin got married twice.

Short story under read more!

“You both were so young,” Eren’s mother sighed happily into her fifth glass of wine. “You had only learnt was a wedding was, and you immediately chose each other.”

Armin watched as his now husband’s cheeks turned pink, matching his own on the tips of his ears.

“Mum!” Eren whisper screamed, but the table laughed along in lighthearted jest.

“Who proposed first?” Connie asked, grinning his trademark mischievous smile.

“Armin did.”

“I did?” Armin gasped.

The rest of the table yelled, “He did?!” at the same time.

Carla nodded, then looked over to Armin’s grandfather, who was also chuckling to himself. His eyes sparkled as he lifted his cup in a half-toast to Carla.

“Oh no,” Armin muttered as he shuffled into his chair a little. His grandfather knows too many embarrassing stories. Add some alcohol and it’s all over.

“He did,” His grandfather spoke like it was just yesterday. “He asked me how to make a ring, so a made one out of flowers that grew outside our house.”

He grabbed one of the flowers from the vase in the middle of the table, nodding slightly to Eren and Armin in apology and thankfulness for letting him use the decoration. Old hands worked the stem like it was child’s play.

“That’s how I learnt it?” Armin asked in awe as his grandfather slipped the flower ring on his pinky. The blond watched as he plucked a flower decoration again, and began to make another. “I thought it was from a book I couldn’t remember!”

The elder man chuckled to himself, deep and hearty. “No, my boy. You learnt it from me. Then you spent hours making the perfect flower ring.”

Armin hid behind his hands as the table gave lighthearted laughter with some ‘aww’s’ in there. He couldn’t remember any of this, but it must’ve been true. It made so much sense.

“And then the next day, Eren was dragging poor Armin by the hand and asking me to make them married right after the proposal,” Carla smiled with those words. “But, of course, you just couldn’t accept it if it was just us, so you made me invite everyone over.”

Armin’s grandfather smiled, wide and toothy, at the memory. “That day the weather was beautiful. Sunshine and a cool breeze. Everyone brought whatever food they could to your wedding since you both insisted on getting married immediately.”

“One of the best lunches we’ve ever had.” Carla added, eyes twinkling.

Mikasa straightened up, and Armin saw a flash of recognition in her eyes. “I remember,” She spoke softly, but managed to grab everyone’s attention. “You bought fought over whether I’d be the bridesmaid or the best man.”

The table howled with laughter as Eren and Armin fell into their hands. Oh my god, embarrassing. This was almost getting too much.

Connie and Sasha were having the time of their lives, picking on and teasing the newly weds with their own additions to their childhood marriage.

Armin felt Eren’s hand over his, bringing them down from his face. Afraid to face the table with his definitely blushing face, he just looked to his husband beside him who was squeezing his hand and rubbing his thumb over the palm.

None of them noticed the table quieting down, enamored with the couple’s complete love and adoration for each other.

“You know,” Carla spoke softer now, nostalgia dripping in her voice. “Even if you two forgot, we didn’t.”

Armin’s grandfather slipped the flower ring off his pinky, and took the both of the new flower rings in his hand. “It might have been a surprise back then, but this time we expected it.”

The wedding pair watched as Armin’s grandfather got up and walked towards them. Their hearts soared as he dropped the two beautiful flower rings on the top of their entertwined hands.

Carla got up too, and kissed the top of their heads before hugging them so close. They’d never say it, but they could feel her hands shaking. Perhaps with pride, or maybe happiness.

The rest of the table, their closest friends, their family, just watched in silence.

“Congratulations Armin and Eren, my two closest friends in the world!” Mikasa spoke out, voice loud and cheery, something so rare and special.

Armin’s head poked out of the hug Carla was still giving, and watched as Mikasa stood up, holding her glass high and proud towards him- towards them.

The entire room cheered, repeating the words. Shouts and screams and happy cries grew in volume.

And for one single moment, an image flashed in Armin’s mind. One with Eren by his side, flower rings on their hands, and their entire family cheering the exact same way on a lovely and warm Spring noon.

#eremin #eremin week 2021 #IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE #so much has happened i'm actually feeling v overwhelemed #but I've been adding to these eremin week posts every free time i have #bless you all for being patient #erearu

[writingletterstothefire]

right where you left me

A/N: So here it is, a full 3 days after I said I’d post it. Things have been pretty crappy, so I apologize if there was anyone out there who actually cared about this fic. The idea came to me while listening to right where you left me by Taylor Swift. I had this image of like, okay, we know about Lorraine, but what if there was someone back in Texas still waiting for Javi, after all this time? And from that thought, came this. it’s not beta-read in the slightest, so I’m so sorry if there’s any typos or sentences that don’t sound right. Thanks, y’all. Enjoy.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: maybe some language?? abandonment, Javier Peña

Prom night was supposed to be the best night of your high school career. And at first, it really felt like it might be. Your best friend Javier Peña was taking you, and you had picked the perfect dress. You and Javi were going as friends, but you really thought that this might finally be the night that you worked up the courage to tell him how you felt. You’d been dancing around each other for months, and tonight was the night that you’d finally take your friendship to a new level.

At 8pm sharp, there was a knock on your door. Javi was always right on time. You walked down the stairs slowly, like you’d seen girls do in movies, but Javi just smiled up at you and went, “Hey, you actually look like a human instead of a troll today!”

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly ecstatic at the start of the night. By the time you got to the prom, though, you had calmed down and reminded yourself that Javi was prone to sticking his foot in his mouth. He was probably just not used to seeing you dressed up.

“You alright, squirt?” Javi asked as he helped you out of his truck and started to lead you into the school. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

“No, I’m fine!” You smiled up at him, determined to have a good night. “Ready to force you to dance with me all night.”

Javi laughed at that. “I’ll give you three dances, alright squirt?”

“Deal!” You beamed up at him. Javi’s heart skipped a beat, like it always did when you smiled at him like that.

In the end, you got four and a half dances out of him. He wasn’t happy about it, but he would do anything you asked him to.

After the prom, you both ended up at the diner you worked at part-time, sharing a milkshake and a plate of fries. That was when the bomb dropped.

“I’m leaving,” he suddenly blurted out, halfway through the milkshake.

“Oh, okay, I’ll go get us a box—” you started to offer helpfully.

“No, I…” he grabbed your hand to stop you getting up, “I, uh, I’m going to Quantico. After graduation.”

Quantico was a conversation that had been looming over the two of you for the last three months. Javi wanted to go, and he wanted you to go up to Virginia with him. He begged you to at least apply to the schools in the area. He needed his best friend.

You’d been denied financial aid from the schools that you applied to.You would be staying in Texas. Eventually, with his father’s health declining after catching a bad bit of pneumonia, it had started to look like Javi might be staying in Texas too. But Chucho ended up making a full recovery, and insisted Javi went to Quantico to advance his career.

It seemed he would be taking his father’s advice. He would be leaving you.

But, you realized, the way Javi was telling you, the way his eyes were pleading with you now… It was almost as if he was waiting for you to ask him not to go. Javi would do anything you asked him to. But you couldn’t ask him to give up his future.

“I’m happy for you, Javi,” you managed to get out, tears collecting in your eyes as you smiled. “You’ve worked so hard to get there, you’re going to be amazing.”

Javi looked almost heartbroken. He had been so sure that you were going to yell and scream at him, beg him to please just stay. Yet, here you were, encouraging him to do the one thing he simultaneously wanted more than anything and didn’t want at all.

He just nodded silently and waited for you to finish the milkshake before taking you back home. You had both been anxious on the ride home. You knew it was now or never, because he was leaving in a week. The problem was that you weren’t going with him. Could you do it, knowing you’d be giving him a taste of what would never be?

You didn’t have time to think too hard about it before Javi had your face in his hands and was planting the sweetest kiss on your lips.

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “But, you’re leaving…”

The both of you stayed frozen for a few moments, before the tears in your eyes spilled over and you were rushing inside. Javi didn’t chase you, even though he wanted to.

The two of you avoided each other at school the following Monday. And then, a week later, he left.

Five years passed without much more than a few phone calls and a handful of letters passed between the two of you. You both chose to ignore the way that prom night ended. You needed each other too much. Even if it was a distanced friendship now, you chalked it up to growing up. Of course you weren’t going to be best friends forever, and it was foolish of you to consider that the distance wouldn’t change things.

But then, Javi walked into the diner. The same diner where he told you he was leaving. The same diner you still worked at every night, noon to close.

You couldn’t stop yourself from running up to him and grabbing him in a tight hug. He hugged you back, of course, squeezing you tightly and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear about how much he missed you.

“Javi, what are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be working for the DEA!” You squeezed him tighter, despite questioning his presence.

“What, I can’t visit home every once in a while, squirt?” He smirked that trademark smirk of his. You finally pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow.

“We haven’t seen you here since Christmas four years ago. And even then, only your dad saw you because you were only here for a night.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, I need to visit more,” he grumbled. His energy shifted into a nervous one. “You know, I’m actually here to, uh, give you this. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

He pulled a small slip of paper from his jacket, and you felt the blood leaving your head. You’d seen so many of these in the past two years, but you supposed you were getting to that age now.

“I wanted you to hear it from me,” he said gently, “because you mean more to me than anything. There’s a plus-one, if you, uh, need it.”

His brow furrowed as he said it, as though he was upset at the idea of you having a plus-one, and you were so confused by his expression that you almost forgot to take the paper from him. The invitation. A wedding invitation. Javi, your Javi, was getting married. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the diner, mostly empty now, save for a few tables quietly eating amongst themselves.

“Congratulations, oh my god,” you finally exclaimed, quickly hugging him quickly so that he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to overflow. You hoped you sounded excited enough to throw off suspicion.

The two of you caught up over a milkshake and a plate of fries, and for a moment you could almost forget that five years had passed. You could almost forget the wedding invitation burning a hole into your apron.

When he asked you about your relationships, you were embarrassed to tell the truth. But you did, because you couldn’t exactly lie to Javi. He was still your best friend, distance and time spent away aside. You told him the truth, that none of the guys you met were the right fit. It was hard to find a good guy in this small town, you had jested. It was true. The best one had left.

Eventually, Javi left with a slip of, “Lorraine’s waiting for me—,” and you cut him off with a pained smile and a, “It’s fine, no it’s totally fine, I have to finish my shift anyways!”

In the end, you couldn’t make yourself go to the wedding. You picked up an extra shift that night, and focused on polishing each piece of silverware until it sparkled.

You’d learn two days later that Javi left her at the altar. Well, that is to say, he never even made it to the altar. He didn’t arrive to the church at all. He simply turned around, and booked a flight back to Quantico, tux and all. He was on the first plane out.

You didn’t know if you wanted to slap him or kiss him. You figured that it didn’t matter. You’d never get the chance to do either one.

———————————————————————

Ten years passed after that. You saw Javi at some Christmases, and you were sure to give him hell for leaving a woman at the altar, but for the better half of ten years, you didn’t see him. When he went down to Columbia, he didn’t come home for holidays. He didn’t want to bring any trouble back up to Texas. It was understandable, but your heart ached every day.

You tried to move on. You’d been trying for fifteen years. But, if you were honest with yourself, there was just no one for you like Javi. No one could compare to him.

You were still working at the diner, but you’d been promoted. The old owner, when he passed away, left the entire thing in your name. He requested that his estate pay off the rest of the mortgage and overdue bills, and you were gifted the diner, completely debt free. You refused to just accept the free money, though. Along with your new duties as the owner, you still worked at the diner five nights per week. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t really have anything else to do. Your cat had food and water, your plants were watered in the morning, and you didn’t have anyone waiting for you at home. So, every night you helped serve tables, run food, and even bus if it was busy enough. You were happy to work. It kept your mind off of how lonely you were.

You were working on closing up one cold, rainy night, when you heard the door open. You never got any patrons after 11pm, so you immediately grew suspicious. You subtly reached for the baseball bat you kept behind the counter.

“We’re closing up, can I help—,” you froze. Javi was standing in the diner soaking wet and shivering. “Oh my god, Javi?”

“H-Hey squirt,” he managed to get out through his chattering teeth.

You hurried over to him, shoving his jean jacket off his shoulders. “You’re going to make yourself sick in these wet clothes! Come on, I’ve got some stuff in the employee lost and found that might work.”

You quickly locked up the front and ushered a shaking Javi to the back room, shoving the first clothes you found that might fit him into his arms. He started stripping his shirt off before you could turn around, and you felt yourself going bright red. After an embarrassingly long moment of you being frozen in shock, you managed to spin around and hurry out to the front with a, “I’m gonna make you something warm to drink!”

Your shaky hands somehow threw two mugs of tea together, and you set them on a table just as Javi came out of the back dressed in oversized sweats and a tie dye hoodie. You offered a small smile and sat at the booth, before realizing it was the booth that you’d sat at together so many times. This was the booth that you’d sat at the night he told you he was leaving. And the night he’d invited you to his wedding.

He sat at the other side of the booth, his ears a bit pink as he bashfully avoided your eyes.

“T-Thanks for the clothes. I don’t know why I didn’t grab an umbrella as I left,” he ducked his head.

You just gently pushed the mug of tea closer to him. “So, what brings you here? What did I do to be graced with your presence on this fine night?”

You didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so snarky, but you saw Javi flinch at your words. His hands wrapped around the warm mug as he stared into the tea.

“I’m, uh… I’m back from Columbia. For good.”

That wasn’t what you’d expected. In your surprised state, you took a moment to examine Javi. This Javi was rugged and worn out. He had permanent bags under his eyes, worry lines in his forehead, a thick, prominent mustache on his lip where there used to be only peach fuzz. His shoulders were hunched over and tense, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on them. And he was, you realized.

The man in front of you was not the boy you graduated high school with. He wasn’t even the man who left his wife at the altar. This man was seasoned and hard, well aware of the darkest horrors that the world possessed.

“What happened down there, Javi?” You had to ask. You knew from the way his jaw clenched that he didn’t want to talk about it, but you also knew that if he didn’t talk about it with you, then there was no one else who stood a chance.

And so, he told you. He recounted his struggles finding Escobar, and then Escobar’s escape. He told you about Escobar’s death, and then the rise of the Calí cartel. The things he’d thought he had to do for the cause. The things he would never repeat to anyone else for years to come. The nightmares that plagued his mind every night. And you listened to him. You didn’t interrupt, except to reach across the table and grab his hand, squeezing tightly every so often to remind him that you were here.You’d always be here, and you both knew that. Javi left and came back and then left again, and you stayed planted to the spot he left you in, waiting patiently for him to come back.

Javi finally finished recounting the stories from Columbia around two in the morning. You’d sat there, holding hands across the table for nearly three hours. You knew, in your heart, that it was time to tell Javi. If he accepted you, you’d go from there. If he rejected you, it was time to move on and try to find some semblance of happiness while you still had time.

“Javi, I—”

“I love you, squirt.”

You must have been looking at him like he’d just told you he was growing a third leg, because he burst out laughing. You couldn’t form a coherent thought. All that came out was a broken, “W-What?”

Javi just tilted his head at you. “Well… you can’t be all that surprised, can you? After all this time, you don’t know?”

“Javi… Javi, we’ve been friends for thirty years, but I’ve barely seen you for half of them. You were… You almost got married, Javi! To someone who wasn’t me! And you have the nerve to say I can’t be all that surprised?!” You knew the volume of your voice had risen substantially, but you didn’t care. He had no right to come into your diner and act like, after fifteen years, he had any right to spring this on you.

“Squirt, I…” Javi sighed, getting up and coming around to your side of the table. He sat next to you and picked up your hands, clasping them tightly in his own. “I messed up. I know. I thought you were better off without me, that you were going to go on to do bigger and better things, and you have, but I… I’m going to be selfish, squirt, for one more time. I’m going to be selfish and tell you that I love you, and I need you. With Lorraine… I proposed because she expected it. We didn’t even really get along that well. A month after I proposed…,” his head dropped, ashamed as he spoke his next words, “I said your name in bed.”

If you hadn’t already been frozen to your seat with shock, you’re sure you would’ve fallen over.

“I know it was unfair to her. I wish I’d never asked her to marry me. I should have come back for you, told you how much I loved you and how much I needed you. You’ve been so patient with me, I know you have. You’ve been nothing but amazing, even when I was a shitty friend to you. I wanted you to come to Quantico with me, and when you couldn’t, I thought… I thought that it was the universe telling me that it wouldn’t work. But fuck the universe. I am so sorry that I ever left you, squirt. I love you. And, if you’ll have me, I want to be with you. I want to marry you, if you’ll let me.” He kissed the backs of your hands.

You stayed frozen for a moment. You knew that none of this was easy for Javi. Admitting his true feelings, owning up to his mistakes, apologizing. He was coming to you, with his heart on his sleeve, and begging you not to turn him away. And how could you, if you were honest? You’d stayed in this state, in this town, in this diner, all for him. You told yourself it was just stability and familiarity that kept you there, but deep down you had always known that you were waiting for Javi. Staying put, right where he left you, just in case he ever decided to come back. And here he was, asking you to love him.

“Javi, I love you, too.”

You’d never seen Javier cry. The day he left, he came close. When his arms wrapped around you, you’d felt him shudder, just once. When you pulled back, his eyes stayed averted, and he didn’t look at you again. Except when he left, about to board his flight, and his eyes were just a tad shinier than usual.

Now, Javi allowed full tears to stream down his cheeks, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. He spoke no words, he just held you. He never truly thought that he would get to.

You slowly pulled back, reaching up to cup his cheeks and wipe away his tears. “I love you, Javi. And I… I’ll marry you, one day. Let’s see how this goes? I don’t want to spook you by us moving too fast, I can’t lose you.”

Javi shook his head frantically. “No, you’ll never lose me. I’m never leaving you again, I was a fool to have left for all these years.”

You wiped at his cheeks one more time, before leaning up to kiss him. And he kissed you back.

You supposed that, if you finally got to have him, then all of the pain you went through while he was gone was worth it. Your waiting hadn’t been for nothing, you finally had your Javi. He was holding you, right here, right now, in the same place he’d left you. Only, this time, he was here to stay. He was here with you.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi x reader #javier pena x reader #javier x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #javier pena #my writing

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous; continuing from this)

“So...” The Doctor ran a finger along W’s antenna as they were lying on the couch, watching TV. “Any plans tonight?”

The Sarkaz yawned. “I’ve had nothing on my mind for the past three hours, so...no, no plans. Is there something special about today?”

“Maybe not. I think we’re at a year of this, though.” He finally got her to twitch, and it made him chuckle.

“A year?” The mercenary leaned back to give him a look. “You’re keeping track?”

He nodded. “I know you didn’t celebrate many things like this, but I think it’s an achievement worth noting.”

“That you survived this long chained to me?” She flashed him a teasing smirk.

“That you haven’t left yet.” The Doctor returned with a sadder smile. “I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

W sighed and turned herself around to look at him head-on. “I know I give you shit all the time, but that’s because I’m a shit person. Don’t get it twisted - you’re the best thing I’ve got going for me by a long shot.”

“I’ll take the compliment, but there’s plenty about you to love.”

“...Alright, I’ll bite.” The Sarkaz gave him a peck on the cheek before going back to giving him a curious stare. “What do you love about me? It’s gotta be something big to want me to stick around.”

He poked her in the chest. “At least two of them, for starters. The cafeteria’s doing wonders for you in that department.”

“My eyes are up here.” Mid-protest, though, she did press against him more.

“I’ve made my choice,” he replied, looking through her eyes and into her soul. “Before I heard your voice, I saw you on the battlefield, so forgive this old pervert his sins. That wasn’t what sold me on you, though.”

She gasped overdramatically. “But how could that be!”

“Because the first time I saw you, you weren’t laughing.” The Doctor waited for her to react to that comment.

“You like my laugh?” The mercenary snickered. “Alright, I didn’t expect that.”

He leaned his head forward. “I don’t like your laugh, Dubbs - I love it. You can tell a lot about a person by their laugh, and yours is pure and utter chaos, like listening to the fallout of an explosion fall to earth. The fact I get to hear it so much is an absolute blessing.”

“Wow. Laying it on thick there, babe.” It was working on her, admittedly; she’d never call him babe under normal circumstances.

“Am I wrong, though?” The Doctor chuckled himself. “You spoke to my soul with that first laugh, that siren song, that carol of apocalyptic bells and trumpets calling my name and yelling expletives at me all the while. Ahhh~ Precious.”

It was far too surreal and sincere to mock, but…“Wild. You’re literally the only person who thinks of it that way.”

“And that’s why I’m so confident you’re mine forever; no one else understands.”

“You’re right there.” W let her head fall against his chest. “So...one year, huh?”

He went back to playing with her antennae. “One whole year of the two of us as a couple. Hard to believe?”

“I expected Rhodes Island to crash and burn before coming this far...I got you something.”

“You did?” That legitimately threw him for a loop. “You were keeping track, then?”

The Sarkaz shook her head. “Like you said, I don’t celebrate things like this...but I remember how I felt the day you inverted my world, and not long after when you set me right-side up again, and I was thinking about it when I went to the store today.”

“Ah, gotcha. Well, now you’ve got me all excited.” The Doctor flashed her one of his own trademark grins. She’d never seen them before they’d gotten together; now, it was impossible not to at least once a day.

“Good; I’ll only say this once, and if you ever lose your memory again, I doubt I’ll have the wherewithal to do it again.” She took a short but deep breath and set a small box on her head. “Here.”

...Well, now he knew at least a little of what it’d felt like when she’d realized the old Doctor was well and truly gone. “Dubbs-”

“Do you understand how foreign this is to me? Not that I purchased a ring, I’ve bought them before for my grenade pins, but that I purchased a ring because I needed this? Because I need you? Sentimentality goes against everything I learned, everything the world beat into me over and over again. The only person I knew who gave a damn about any of this stuff was Her, and She...She told me that all it took was finding one person who I wanted to hold onto forever, and then I’d get it. I laughed at her when she told me that, but she was right - I get it. So, how about it? We made it one year like this; wanna try for a lifetime?” The mercenary watched him intently, waiting for him to answer. There were only two possibilities, after all-

“If I told you I forgot we weren’t married,” he admitted sheepishly, “what would you say?”

What would she say? “You forgot?”

“I thought we’d already gone to the courthouse and signed stuff. Unless...” His eyes went wide.

“Doctor?” There was an edge in her voice. “That sounds like a memory.”

The Doctor rubbed his eyes. “I...But I see you standing there.”

“Believe me, I’d remember doing that, and we definitely haven’t.”

“I believe you, I really do.” He shook his head. “Well, I know where I’m going tonight.”

All the anger that’d suddenly thrust its way to the front of her mind evaporated. “Tonight?”

“Like I said, I honestly thought we’d already signed off and everything. I want things set to right as quickly as possible, and since I’m the Doctor, I can get away with shit like this. Wanna come to the courthouse with me?” His hand drifted up her antenna, along the back of her neck, and down her spine to her waist.

“I...Might as well.” She glanced down at what she was wearing. “Should I change?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

“You’re wearing slippers, then?” Typical Doctor move.

“Nah, you’re right, this is a special occasion.” The Doctor sighed. “We should go change, then. I finally have a reason to wear that suit.”

W remembered the suit he was talking about, and her eyes started to sparkle. “You’d better not try to get out of this now that you’ve said that.”

“Does that sound like something I would do to you?”

“...No.” She sat up so she could properly yank him into a kiss. “No, it doesn’t.”

#arknights #arknights fic #w (arknights) #it was a w fic! #in case anyone was wondering where the holdup was this time #the W fandom doesn't show any remorse for doing these things to me #but it is my duty as a humble fanfic request realizer to make this happen #as is the motto of the Krusty Krab Hotel: #'We will never deny our guest even the most ridiculous request' #...but i'll admit #there was something kinda nice about actually saying something nice about her #like finding a dollar in a pile of rusted nails #...damn that sounds worse than i meant it :P

[gohyuck]

pairing: lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

word count: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of sex, nudity, some swearing... he almost eats the reader out. it gets super close

part of a series?: yes, 37.5% viewer ratings, my hyuck bday celebration

🎵 dizzy - renzo

☀️ mornings together

you wake up to the distinct touch of fingertips dragging gently across the bare skin of your side. the hand - disembodied by your groggy state and gaining its own identity for the moment - finds purchase right above your hipbone, pressing gently into your skin as a disembodied pair of lips meets your hairline.

and your nose. and your left cheek, then your right. suddenly, they’re all over your face, and they’re not so detached from reality anymore.

“hyuck!” you call out, half in laughter and half in exasperation. your eyes fly open to meet those of your boyfriend, the corners of his eyes crinkling before he leans in again, chastely pressing his lips to yours in a good morning kiss. as you get adjusted to the bright rays of sunshine that are filtering in unstopped through your window due to the curtains being wide open, you become aware of just how close donghyuck is to you: his right arm rests beside your head and his left leg is thrown halfway over you. he’s propped up on his right side, staring down at you fondly while you’re fully on your back.

you begrudgingly turn away from his warm gaze - and warm body, you’ll never cease to be in awe of how reminiscent he is of a furnace - to check the time on your phone. 6:06 glares back at you, and you can’t help but furrow your brow at how early you’ve been woken up.

“we forgot to close the blinds and the curtains last night, and it woke me up.” donghyuck mumbles, his mouth now against the curve of your shoulder. he must’ve noticed your questioning look. hyuck drapes an arm over you, palm splaying out flat against your lower stomach, and you’re suddenly extremely cognizant of how straight up naked you both are. he, at least, has the luxury of having boxers on; though, you can’t be too angry when you distinctly remember him offering to let you wear his shirt while sleeping and you outright rejecting the idea.

♕ ♕ ♕

“think of it like this,” you’d explained, cheeks as rosy as possible and chest rising heavily and painted with a light sheen of sweat. “i’m already heated, and you’re stupidly warm anyways, so why would i want to put on any layers? that, and waking up to me naked can be your present.”

“i like to think i’m smartly warm, actually - don’t hit me,” he’d broken off in a soft chuckle, catching your hand against his own heaving chest as you tried to smack him gently. “and it’s not my fault someone went and got me all hot and bothered.”

“you are so lucky we have great sex,” you’d rolled your eyes, kicking the sheets off of your overheating body and turning your back to your boyfriend. he’d immediately turned you back over, forcing you to look at his overexaggerated pout in response to your words. you’d rolled your eyes yet again, though you couldn’t hide the adoring smile that had overtaken your expression. before he could say anything else, you’d leaned towards him, capturing his lips against yours. one of his hands had come up to cradle your face, gently guiding your mouths, while the other had trekked down your back, resting, finally on your ass before giving it a good squeeze and pulling your body closer to his. you’d snaked your arms over his shoulders, letting him pull a moan from you as he’d tugged on your lower lip with his teeth, as he’d dug his fingertips into the skin of your thighs. the concept of bliss had found a home in lee donghyuck, who in turn had become your vice. this was nothing new. 

eventually, you’d both come up for air. you’d stared at him, eyes scanning his darkened cheeks and hazy eyes. he’d given you a once over as well, not hesitating to roll his lower lip between his teeth as a show of his appreciation of all of you. 

“i’d suggest a round 2, but i’m fucking wiped,” he’d eventually said upon separation, and you’d nodded in agreement, your head burrowing against his chest, excess body heat be damned. “you’re really not going to wear anything?”

you’d shaken your head, and he’d afforded you a laugh at the tickling sensation that came from your hair scraping across his skin.

“guess i’m getting one hell of a birthday gift when we wake up, then.”

♕ ♕ ♕

“hey,” you roll over within his grasp, finding yourself nose-to-nose with him. “it might be early, but at least it’s early on your birthday.”

“right,” donghyuck hums, the hand that’s lying over you shifting so it’s firmly clutching your waist. “looks like i’ve already unwrapped my first present.”

his words have his trademark, teasing lilt to them, and you think you’d feel as if he was getting ready to devour you alive if it wasn’t for the way his eyes are absolutely sparkling. hyuck is an even mix of sharp edges - you reach up a hand, tracing his jawline softly with the pad of your index finger - and rounded curves - you run a thumb over his cheek, right underneath his eye. from the fondness in his expression, he’s seeing you the same way you see him. donghyuck pinches your hip as delicately as possible and his smile grows as yours does.

as he beams at you, you can’t help but want to keep that expression on his face forever.

you place a kiss on the tip of his nose just to watch him crinkle it, all while his entire form is bathed in morning sunlight. by this point, your thoughts have already hung a turn towards ‘sappy’, and you don’t believe you want them to hit the brakes. 

“you’re so beautiful.” donghyuck breathes, and you realize he’s beaten you to saying the words that were about to fall off your own tongue. before you can respond with a glib ‘birds of a feather’ remark, he shifts the two of you, forcing you to lay flat against his pale blue sheets. both his forearms cage your head onto the pillow underneath it, one of his knees coming up to keep his entire form balanced exquisitely above you. 

“so,” he bends to mouth along your jawline, smiling against you when you let out a pleased sigh and allow yourself to sink further into the pillow. you reach a hand up to run it over his collarbone, and he captures it easily before pressing his lips to your knuckles. once he drops it, you reach up again, though this time your grip finds light purchase in his hair.

“fucking,” donghyuck kisses into the expanse of skin above your bellybutton. he’s actively using his knee to leverage him on his descent (and, consequently, your ascent) down your body. the honey in his skintone is made even more evident as the sun’s rays wash him with warmth. if you squint, you can almost make out a halo of light resting in his hair. there’s no way for you to dwell on this, though, not as he presses chaste - too chaste for your liking - kisses over your hipbones and thighs. 

“beautiful.” hyuck finally finishes his statement, looking up at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes before sliding fully onto the floor at the foot of his bed. he straightens up onto his knees and gives you no warning before grabbing your ankles and dragging you to him, causing you to yelp loudly.

much to your chagrin, he just laughs at your reaction, his amusement growing louder as the furrow of your brow grows deeper. before you can chastise your boyfriend, though, he places his hands on your thighs, one on each, and pulls them apart from each other. donghyuck leans in to nip gently at your inner thigh, and you can’t help the breathy gasp that escapes you.

“wait!” you cry out suddenly, causing your boyfriend to pull away immediately. he sits up, concern replacing his expession instantly.

“baby? what’s wr-” he starts, only for you to interrupt him.

“it’s your birthday, not mine. i should be doing things for you, not the other way around.”

donghyuck goes silent, and so do you, and you watch as his expression becomes unreadable for a moment. you wait two, five, ten seconds for him to speak to no avail. you’re about to sit up when he shakes his head, placing his hands back on you again.

“i promise, i’m doing exactly what - and who - i want to. i’ll even spell it out for you, if you want: you look like a literal angel or some shit in the sunlight, and if you’ll let me, i almost need to take advantage of it. it’s my birthright. birthday right?” he quirks an eyebrow in confusion at his own phrasing, though that doesn’t stop him from leaning in, his hands running idly up and down your thighs as he waits for your response.

your resolve has already weakened.

“...shouldn’t i at least make you breakfast first?” you try, though you’re already situating yourself on the pillow again. you feel rather than hear donghyuck chuckle against your skin, though you don’t miss the dark excitedness in his tone when he speaks again.

“i already have my breakfast spread out for me.”

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[yungidreamer]

Studied

Home should be safe, but sometimes innocent things have unintended consequences. 

Angst, lots of angst, sorry, I promise things get better

Pairing: Yunho, Mingi, unnamed female character, established poly relationship

Word count: 6.2k

Content warnings: people dealing with homophobia and internalized homophobia and fears of ostracization. Struggles with decisions about being out and self acceptance.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Yunho asked over his shoulder as Hong Joong pulled his books out of his bag and onto the kitchen table.

“Sure,” Hong Joong nodded.

“Soda, juice, sparkling water,” Yunho listed out the drinks he could see in the fridge. “Something aloe...not sure what that is.”

“How about a soda,” Hong Joong chuckled, amused by the last observation. Yunho pulled two cans out, one for each of them, and joined him at the table.

“Thanks for coming over to help me study,” Yunho said, opening his notebook. “Some of this science is just going right over my head…”

“No problem,” he waved away the thanks and turned to the start of the chapter they had spent the week covering in class. “The material is hard. I’m just lucky I basically took this in high school. I did AP chem.”

“Thank god you sat next to me,” Yunho laughed. “I’ll pay you back with dinner tonight. I can look and see what we have later. If we don’t have anything worth eating we can just order something when my roommates get back.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hong Joong agreed with a smile. “Okay Phases and Classifications of Matter, have you ever heard such a scintillating opener?”

“Mmmm, sexy,” Yunho joked back. The tension broken, they set about going through the dense material of the chapter, doing their best to slog through, focusing on the definitions and concepts that would likely be covered in the test next week. Yunho wrote out notes as they went through, comparing them to those he had taken in class.

“I just keep getting stuck on what the hell the difference is between weight and mass,” Yunho cradled his head, staring at the paper in front of him. “I know they are different, I do, it’s just…”

“Okay, okay, just think of it as like...the mass is how much space it takes up,” Hong Joong mimed out a sphere in the air in front of him. “If you have something this size, the mass is going to be the same here, or in space, or on Jupiter, but the weight depends on how that mass interacts with gravity. The mass of something, how much there is of it, doesn’t change, but it’s weight depends on how gravity attracts it to other bodies.”

“Okay I think I get it,” Yunho nodded, scribbling something down. “Let’s see if it sticks.”

A whooshing clunk sounded as the front door opened and someone entered the house. Yunho hopped up, leaving Hong Joong at the table as he went to go greet whoever it was. The heavy footfalls that approached, told him it was Mingi that had arrived home first. The two met near the kitchen door, their paths crossing just outside the double wide door between the kitchen and the living room.

“Hey I--” Yunho started to mention that he had a friend over to study but was cut off by a happy and eager Mingi, who had greeted his approach with his trademark full face grin, taking his head in his hands and bringing his lips to his own for a joyful kiss. He was happy to be home; happy to have the week over; happy to touch someone he loved. 

Yunho froze, immediately regretting not messaging Mingi that he was bringing someone over to study. The study session hadn’t been planned. He had only asked him if he was free as they were packing up at the end of the class. It hadn’t crossed his mind to message her or Mingi that he was bringing someone by to work with. He couldn’t have even guaranteed that Mingi would have seen it if he did. He turned his phone off in class and sometimes forgot to turn it back on before he got back. After all, class was less than a half an hours walk from their front door. Maybe it would have been useless, but at least then he would have tried.

Mingi broke the kiss, pulling back to look lovingly at Yunho’s face. He could see it, the moment that Mingi saw, over his shoulder, that someone else was there. His face fell and he blanched. Without a word, he stepped back, turning to go down the hall as quickly as he could manage.

“Mingi wait,” Yunho called after him, his guest at the table forgotten, aside from the unintended impact his presence had had on the boy he loved. “Hey, wait—” He called out again as Mingi disappeared through the door to his room, slamming it closed behind him.

She entered the front door, taking off her headphones as she stepped inside. Putting down her book bag next to the couch, she headed for the kitchen to look for something to snack on while she waited to talk to the boys about dinner. An unfamiliar face greeted her in the kitchen, which oddly looked more surprised to be there than she felt to find him there.

“Uh, hi,” she greeted.

“Hi--hello,” the boy quickly stood up, extending his hand to her. “I’m Hong Joong, I’m in Yunho’s chemistry class. We were studying…”

“Ah, well, welcome,” she gave him a welcoming study. “Did Yunho go to the bathroom or…” Her eyes scanned the study material still strewn across the table, clearly still in use. 

“Oh well,” Hong Joong shifted uncomfortably. “I think his boyfriend was surprised I was here… I didn’t mean...It isn’t a problem that he’s gay.”

“Boyfriend…” she froze, blinking, as if that would solve the malfunction that was happening in her mind.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “The kiss was actually kind of cute, they seem like a sweet couple, but I guess maybe they aren’t out and...it’s not a problem. I’m not going to say anything. I won’t say anything.”

“Thanks,” She plastered a bland smile on her face. “It’s just...things are complicated at the moment.”

“No I understand,” He nodded, a regretful look on his face.

“I hate to leave you alone,” she sighed. “But do you mind if I go check on them?”

“No, yeah, that’s fine.” He insisted. “Just— Should I go, or…”

“Ummm, let me go check on them,” she shifted, looking towards the hall. “Yunho might want to study a little more or at least say goodbye, so, maybe wait.”

“Yeah, right, sure,” Hong Joong nodded, stepping backwards toward his seat, a worried look still on his face.

“Thanks, really,” she gave him a smile before setting off for the hallway, mentally cursing everything...Mingi’s father most of all. She found Yunho in the hall, leaning against Mingi’s private bedroom door, his forehead pressed against the white wood as he said something she couldn’t quite make out until she drew near.

“...if you would just let me in,” Yunho spoke to the person on the other side of the door.

“What happened,” she whispered harshly, keeping her voice low so that it wouldn’t travel to the kitchen.

“It...it all just happened so fast,” Yunho looked pained as he turned slightly to look at her. “I just wanted to study a little and I forgot to message either of you. He just came home...and I was going to tell him...I was headed to tell him I had brought home a friend...but he got to me first, and he was so happy to see me, he just...it was just a kiss. He should be able to come home and kiss me if he wants. Home should be safe. I...I fucked up.”

“Okay,” she nodded, running a hand over his arm. “First, what do you want to do with your friend?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho rubbed his face, feeling like there was no winning for him at the moment.

“Do you need to study?” She decided to focus on the practical things first.

“Yes, I’m an idiot when it comes to chemistry and—“ 

“Okay, then go, explain what you need to, to your friend,” She sighed, casting a look to the closed door. “Study for another hour or however long you can concentrate tonight. If you can’t, then talk to him and plan something over the weekend. Maybe meet at the library or something. I’ll see if I can’t talk to Mingi.”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho’s chest hurt and he was sure he wouldn’t be good at focusing any more tonight but… how important was it for him to keep up appearances?

“Accidents happen,” She drew in a long breath through her nose. “Let’s just try not to stumble into any more incidents like this.”

“Please talk to him for me,” he begged quietly. “Please make him understand...I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll try. Go talk to your friend,” she shooed him away, watching him walk away down the hall before she knocked on the door. “Mingi, baby, please let me in…” There was a faint shuffling on the other side of the door, then…a click. The door swung open a few centimeters and she could make out the sound of retreating footsteps. Pushing into the room, she let her eyes adjust to the dim room. He had turned off all the lights and closed the curtains to make the room as dark as he could.

She slipped inside, closing the door behind her, her eyes scanning until she found a lump on the floor near the foot of the bed. He sat there, making himself as inconspicuous as he could, legs pulled up to his chest, his face hidden in his knees. He looked small...and sad...like he wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“Baby,” she knelt down beside him, her hands going to the messy mop of brown hair that stuck out in every direction. He had clearly been running his fingers through his hair, pulling at it in frustration with himself. “Please talk to me, love.”

Mingi lifted his head enough for his eyes to peer at her over the line of his knees. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears that spilled the moment he blinked. “I…” he managed to choke out before his throat closed and he couldn’t make another sound.

“Okay, okay,” she soothed, stroking his head. He let his knees drop and reached out with his long arms, drawing her into his lap and holding her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat in an ocean of pain. Her arms wrapped around him in return, letting him tuck his face into where her neck and shoulder met as he let out a soul crushing sob.

In the dark of the room, she sat with him, quietly letting his warm, wet tears soak through her t-shirt as she gently shushed him. She rubbed the broad expanse of his back in slow circles with one hand as the other held his head, her fingers gently running through the soft fluff of his hair. In the moment it was all he needed, it was all he could take. In a few minutes the feeling of pure panic subsided, the choked feeling in his chest had loosened enough for him to not feel like he was drowning.

“What happened?” She murmured, hoping to get him to say something, anything, to indicate that he was past his moment of horror.

“I...I just came home, I was so happy to see Yunho,” he shook his head, letting out a wet hiccough as he took a breath. “I wasn’t thinking. I was so stupid, so stupid. I wasn’t careful. I just…”

“Go on,” she encouraged, continuing to hold him. “Just tell me what happened.”

“It’s home,” he shrugged, his shoulders drooping even further as he let it go. “I didn’t think I had to be careful. I just saw him and he looked so good. School has been hard and I just wanted to kiss him...and I did.” He pulled back, letting his head rest against the bed as he looked pleadingly at the ceiling. “I pulled back and that is when I saw him. I saw his face. He looked so disgusted. I can’t...I just...I feel gross.” Hot tears ran from the corners of his eyes as he tried to draw a breath only to find he couldn’t. He could only draw short gasps, choked short by the fear coursing through him.

“Honey,” she soothed, using her hands to make him look at her. “He wasn’t disgusted. I’m sure he was just surprised, that’s all. You are...unexpected, baby. That’s all.”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted, a hint of panic still dancing behind his eyes. “You didn’t see his face. You d-d-didn’t see it.”

“I saw him when I came in,” she assured him. “I talked to him. He even said you two were cute.”

“Wh-wha-what?” He stuttered out past his hiccoughing breaths.

“He said you two were kind of cute,” she wiped away the dampness of his tears. “He doesn’t think you are gross.”

“How do you know he wasn’t just saying that?” Mingi asked, not sure he could believe it.

“Trust me,” she smiled. “I wouldn’t lie to you. And you know I would hunt someone to the ends of the earth if they wanted to hurt you or Yunho.”

“But…” he began, only to have her cut him off with a gentle kiss.

“Really, he seems nice,” she added. “Maybe you can go out and see for yourself.”

“I can’t--” his eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Love, I won’t make you come,” She calmed, speaking in a quiet, assured voice. “But am I usually right on things like this?” He nodded. “Would I ask you to do this if I thought, even just a little, that it would hurt either of you?” He shook his head. “Will you come out with me?” He paused before giving her a smaller, less sure nod. “Okay, let’s stop by the bathroom to rinse your face a little first, yeah?” He agreed, letting her stand before taking her hand and letting her lead him into the bathroom. He washed and dried his face, frowning at his slightly pink and puffy eyes which would not disappear with just a quick wash, then allowed her to comb his hair into some semblance of order.

“Ready?” She asked. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. “You know, you’re beautiful even when your eyes are puffy from crying.” He let out a surprised and pleased scoff of a laugh, hugging her tightly in response.

Yunho walked back into the kitchen, half surprised to see Hong Joong still sitting there at the table. He was staring into space, clearly distracted by his own thoughts, only turning when Yunho approached the table and moved into his peripheral vision.

“Hey, look,” Hong Joong started, a worried look painting his features.

“No, let me,” Yunho interrupted, then paused, trying to decide how to apologize and explain. “This is really my fault. I forgot to mention that someone was coming over and…”

“You two are still in the closet,” Hong Joong filled in. “That’s okay. I would never say something about it if you aren’t out. I can keep a secret.”

“I...thank you, but,” Yunho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not that simple. I would appreciate you not saying anything but…”

“I mean what is that simple,” Hong Joong joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Right,” Yunho agreed, letting out a laugh at the attempt at jest.

“This is your first semester here, isn’t it?” He confirmed, allowing Yunho to nod before he continued. “The campus has a lot of LGBT students and even some professors that are out. The campus is a safe place. There are clubs and support groups and I have some people I could introduce you to.”

“That’s...that’s nice of you,” Yunho gave him a nod and grateful smile. “It is still more complicated than that. I’m not sure we would really fit in and…”

“No pressure,” Hong Joong put his hands up, backing up but letting the offer stand. “You don’t have to do anything, and the offer will always be there.”

“Thanks,” Yunho said earnestly. “I can keep that in mind I just…I still need to study, and if you don’t mind helping me still, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Do you want to keep going today, or…” He let the offer hang.

“I don’t know,” Yunho scoffed, looking at the books and papers strewn across the table. “I should, I just...my mind isn’t on the books right now.”

“We don’t have to,” Hong Joong said agreeably. “I guess maybe tomorrow would be alright, too.”

“I think I just need a few minutes,” Yunho shook his head. “Do you mind if I make myself a snack?”

“No that would be fine,” Hong Joong accepted affably. 

Yunho nodded and walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out everything he needed to make himself a sandwich. 

“Did you want a sandwich, too?” He offered.

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” Hong Joong agreed, though he probably would have agreed to slamming his hand in a door if he thought it would reduce the tension in the house. Honestly, he felt terrible. When he had seen the other boy kiss Yunho, he had indeed been surprised by the sight. He hadn’t been grossed out but, honestly, he would never have guessed Yunho was gay. It just came out of left field. He had been totally taken by surprise and it had undoubtedly shown on his face.

The stupidest thing, he berated himself in his head, was that it didn’t fucking matter. He felt like a moron, but it had just hit him the same way catching a frog working a smartphone would have. It was just completely unexpected. You’re better than this, he scolded himself silently. You wouldn’t have made that face you did if that girl had come home and done the same. God, I’m so embarrassed. He squirmed in his seat, debating bowing out and just starting fresh tomorrow, but he didn’t say anything, just watched in silence as Yunho worked on making some sort of sandwich, he hadn’t even asked what kind.

In the silence, they both heard the click and creak of a door opening somewhere in the hall. Footsteps moved further down the hall then disappeared. In the kitchen everyone held their breaths in the silence, wondering if someone was coming. Yunho stood, bread in hand, hoping to hear more, but nothing followed. Letting out the breath with a heavy sigh, he finished assembling the sandwiches. He passed one to Hong Joong and flopped down at the table to eat.

They both took their first bites and were met with the disappointment of it mostly tasting like paste. The food itself was fine, it was probably even delicious, but their taste buds couldn’t register it past the cloying discomfort.

Footsteps sounded down the hall again and both boys looked up, putting the food down as they looked in the direction of the sound. She emerged first, one hand extended behind her with Mingi following, gripping it tightly with both hands. Yunho moved to stand up, only to stop when she shook her head. She escorted Mingi to the empty seat beside Yunho, opting to stand behind him with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Mingi kept his eyes down, focused on the table. He looked terrible, Yunho thought. His nose was red, his eyes were slightly puffy, and he looked like his heart had been broken in two. Yunho reached out under the table, putting a palm on Mingi’s knee, only to have him pull away. It was like a stab to Yunho’s heart. He wanted to say he was sorry, he wanted to comfort him...he wanted to hold him.

“Mingi, baby,” she said softly. “I’d like to introduce you to Hong Joong. He came by to help out our Yunho study.”

Hong Joong’s attention was caught by her words. It could be that they were all just very close friends but...Mingi baby? Our Yunho? His eyes flicked to her, trying to read her face. Somehow she reminded him of velvet covered steel. Soft and inviting on the outside but strong and unbending if struck. Somehow he knew, she was not one to be crossed.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Hong Joong said, nodding once in Mingi’s direction.

“Hello,” Mingi said quietly, straightening up but still keeping his eyes down.

“I...I’m sorry about earlier,” Hong Joong continued. “I was just surprised and…” he trailed off and grimaced at himself. “Please, don’t be embarrassed. It was sweet. I wish I had anyone in my life that was that happy to see me.” Success, he thought to himself as Mingi’s eyes lifted to meet his for a second. “I don’t suppose you are taking Chemistry this semester? I’m happy to help you too, if you are…”

“No,” Mingi answered glumly. “I wish I had.”

“Oh, well, the offer stands when you take it,” Hong Joong offered. “Of course, maybe by then Yunho will be an expert on all this and he can help you, then.”

“I’m just going to be lucky if I can pass the tests,” Yunho gave a short chuffing laugh. “Please, don’t count on me being able to hold on to this in any useful way.”

“You’ll do fine,” Hong Joong laughed. “You’re doing so much better already.”

“Let’s see how I do on the test before we decide that,” Yunho demurred.

“Anyway,” Hong Joong smiled at Mingi. “I’m sorry about earlier and I’d like to maybe be friends. I have some people you should maybe meet.”

“What do you mean,” Mingi asked, suspicious but curious.

“I have some friends who are, well, like you...I think,” Hong Joong’s eyes flicked to her, still not sure what to make of her. It didn’t help that she was keeping silent. Then again, what had he said to her?

“What do you mean like you?” Mingi looked between Yunho and his classmate.

“Uh, just...you know….” Hong Joong felt suddenly unsure. “Gay?” Somehow the last word ended as a question.

Mingi flushed, part of him wanted to object. After all, he didn’t like boys...or well, not just boys.

“Why are you always hanging around with him?” Mingi’s father asked him with a sigh. 

“He’s my best friend,” Mingi shrugged, moving the food around on his plate.

“I don’t like how he talks with you,” His father grumbled. “Always touching you when he laughs. Why can’t he ever be serious? Life’s not a joke.”

“They’re kids, honey,” his mother soothed. “Let them have fun while they can. And that Yunho boy is sweet. He’s so helpful when he comes around.”

“You just like that he helps you cook,” his father scoffed.

“It’s nice to have someone who isn’t afraid to help in the kitchen,” she admitted, sending her son a smile as she said it. “He is so lovely and helpful.”

“Boy’s aren’t supposed to be lovely.” His father let his silverware drop loudly to the table. “Boys are strong, reliable. Useful.”

“I would say helping in the kitchen is very useful,” she countered.

“That isn’t the kind of useful that will get a guy anywhere in life,” his father insisted. “You didn’t marry me because I helped with the dishes. You married me because I could provide.”

“Times are changing dear,” she reminded him. “It wouldn’t be so bad for Mingi to know how to be both. Women these days expect more from guys.”

“Fine, maybe cooking is good,” his father shrugged and grumbled. “The touching is too much. The world hasn’t changed that much. Men don’t do those things. No one wants to be around that stuff.”

“Dear, really,”  she rolled her eyes.

“He’s going to end up alone like that,” his father insisted. “Guys don’t want to be friends with boys that do that, and no girl worth her salt would want to be with a boy that she feels like she has to compete with his friends for attention, especially that kind of attention.”

“Honey, drop it,” she warned.

“Why don’t you date that girl you two are always with,” he suggested, half changing the subject to placate his wife. “She puts up with you two. She’s sort of pretty too; you could do worse.”

“She is wonderful,” his mother sent a glare to her husband. “You really should bring her around more. She is so fun to talk to.”

“She’s been busy,” Mingi shrugged, hoping the excuse was good enough. “I mostly see her when we meet up to study. I don’t know when she can.”

“Just remember,” His mother offered him a strained smile, knowing what she said was only half true. “Your friends are always welcome.”

“Thanks mom,” Mingi offered her an attempt at a smile.

“It might be nice to have some friends you don’t feel like you have to, well, hide from,” Hong Joong fiddled with one of the papers on the table. “You can think about it.”

“No one wants to see that,” Mingi said, his head ringing with the hundred ways his father had told him that; sneered when he saw those things he didn’t approve of.

“That sounds like something you heard a lot,” Hong Joong intuited, a hint of sadness in his tone. “My friends, you’d like them and I really think they would like you.”

“It would be nice to make more friends,” She responded. “We all moved here a few months ago and it would be nice to have some people to hang out with here.”

“Actually, we are having a Halloween party next weekend,” Hong Joong lit up as the idea struck him. “You should come. You can meet my friends and you’ll have fun.” He turned to Yunho and teased. “It would be a great way to celebrate that test you are going to ace next week.”

“Your faith in me is inspiring,” Yunho laughed. “But that could be fun. I guess we’ll have to see if we can make it.”

“It’s going to be at my dorm,” Hong Joong explained. “Do you know where Whitby Residence is?”

“Yeah over on the north campus,” she confirmed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “If you have costumes, wear them. It’s just going to be a good time. I really hope you will come.”

“Okay,” Mingi agreed, looking up at him finally.

“Great, great,” Hong Joong grinned. “Listen, I’m not sure I’m going to get a lot more out of studying tonight, but tomorrow I’m free. It’s Saturday but I would love to get in a little more studying if you would be up for it.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Yunho nodded, grateful for an excuse to not try and concentrate anymore tonight. “Where did you want to meet to study?”

“The library is possible,” Hong Joong offered. “Or here is still fine with me.”

Yunho looked at Mingi, wondering if it might be okay or if he should push for the library.

“You can study here,” Mingi said quietly in the stillness of the moment.

“Sure,” She agreed. “You bring the brains, I can provide some study snacks.”

“Yeah of course,” Hong Joong gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks for, well, letting me come over and study. Being able to study here is great; no battling for the best study spaces or rules against snacks or drinks in some of the spaces.”

“Home is always a comfy place to study, if you can get away from distractions,” She took a step back away from her protective stance by Mingi as Hong Joong started to pack his things up. Yunho did the same, gathering his things up to carry them down the hall to his room and drop them on the little desk he had there.

“So what are you studying?” She asked Hong Joong, filling the silence as he packed.

“Design actually,” Hong Joong replied. “It’s not exciting or anything, but it's where my passion is.”

“That could be really interesting actually,” she replied supportively. “Are you interested in stuff like fashion, or interior design, or graphic design?”

“Fashion and graphic design,” he was surprised by her interest, as well as her ability to engage in the subject at all. Most people were somewhat dismissive, outside of others in his department.

“What are you going to do with that?” She asked, walking with him towards the front door, both boys trailing behind them.

“Not sure yet,” He admitted. “I really like the idea of recycled fashion, but…”

“You don’t have to know yet.” She shrugged.

“True,” Hong Joong finally felt the tension he had been holding let go. “We have time.”

“Exactly,” She said enthusiastically.

“Anyway, it was really nice to meet all of you,” Hong Joong adjusted his bag on his shoulder.

“Yeah I’ll see you tomorrow,” Yunho agreed. “Maybe around one?”

“That sounds good,” Hong Joong readily agreed. “See you then.” He opened his arms to offer the much taller boy a hug. Yunho paused for half a second before leaning down to take the offered hug. They pulled apart and he opened his arms to her, giving her a solid hug goodbye. Lastly he turned in the direction of a still quiet Mingi, offering him a hug as well. Mingi hesitated but gave in, leaning down to hug him. 

Hong Joong held him for a few seconds longer than he had the other two. “I’m sorry again...I just...Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow when I come to study.”

“Yeah, probably,” Mingi fidgeted as he answered.

“Well, see you later,” Hong Joong bid as he turned and walked out the door.

She closed the door behind him and Yunho immediately threw his arms around Mingi. “I’m so sorry for today. It was all my fault and I will do anything to let you know how sorry I am.”

“It’s okay,” Mingi only half hugged him back. “I should have been more careful.”

“No, love,” Yunho shook his head and pulled the other boy tightly against him. “This is home. You don’t have to be careful.”

“No...I have to be careful,” Mingi shook his head again, his eye prickling as the fear and emotion rose again.

“I want to always come home to a greeting like that,” Yunho insisted, turning his face to kiss the other boy's cheek. “Never hide how you feel for me. Not here.”

“Come here, loves,” she gave them gentle pulls, urging them to come sit with her on the couch. Yunho followed, taking Mingi with him and pulling him into his lap.

“Okay so I think we need to come up with a few house rules,” she suggested quietly. “Let’s start with agreeing not to bring anyone over without checking with everyone first.”

“Agreed,” Yunho said quickly, pressing his forehead to Mingi’s shoulder. Mingi nodded.

“It would be nice to make friends here,” she said carefully. “Maybe we can find people who won’t find the three of us together weird, but that might take time. It’s probably worth a try but in the meantime, maybe we need to decide what we are when we aren’t at home.”

“What do you mean?” Mingi asked, giving her lost puppy eyes as he tried to decipher what she meant.

“Well, are we just roommates?” She proposed. “Just friends?”

“I...don’t know,” Mingi said honestly.

“Then we’re just friends for now until we decide differently.” She nodded, giving his leg a reassuring pat. “We’ll be careful and keep things at home. Maybe we can just ask Hong Joong to pretend he didn’t see anything. I’m sure he can just pretend nothing happened.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he wouldn’t say anything,” Yunho agreed, not sure what he felt about it.

“Of course the other alternative is,” she ventured slowly. “I’m just the friend here.”

“Just the friend?” Mingi parroted.

“Well, maybe it would be okay for you two to be a couple for a while,” she gave them a smile. “I don’t think people would think it is that weird if you two were together and had a female friend and roommate. Besides, maybe then you can see that most people don’t really think like your dad.”

“But…” Yunho trailed off, not sure what to say, but it didn’t sit right with him.

“We don’t have to decide,” she replied. “Not right now, but it is something to think about. It wouldn’t mean we can’t do stuff together, but maybe you two hold hands sometimes and maybe I don’t always make it to lunch on Tuesday or Thursday.”

“No,” Mingi sat up. “I don’t like that, it’s not the answer.”

“It’s just an option,” she held up her hands. “We don’t have to decide now.”

“No he’s right,” Yunho shook his head. “It’s always been all of us together unless it was at school or one of us was gone. It doesn’t feel right to pretend that it isn’t all of us.”

“Only for a little while,” she promised. “And it was just an idea. Why don’t you two talk a little more and I’ll go pick up some dinner for us from one of the places nearby.”

“I can go with you,” Mingi offered.

“We can both come,” Yunho leaned forward as Mingi moved to get up.

“No, don’t worry,” she shook her head. “It won’t take me long.” She looked at Yunho and gave him a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Take care of our boy for me, and you two can clear the table up the rest of the way for me. Does chicken sound good?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yunho agreed. She patted Mingi’s knee and stood up, heading over to where she had left her bag by the door. Slinging it over her shoulder, she gave the boys a wave and headed out the door. She made it all the way down the curve in the road to where it dead-ended into the road that they walked along every day to head to the university for her to give up being strong. They couldn’t see her now and that was what mattered.

Tears clouded her vision and she sat down on the edge of the sidewalk to allow herself five minutes to let it all out. Moving in was supposed to make things easier. They were supposed to be together and feel free to be themselves. But suddenly the outside world had intruded. It was easy to steel her spine and make a show like she thought everything was going to be fine. They needed that from her. 

She could still see how timid Mingi was to make the first move with Yunho. That he had done what he did this afternoon, only to have things blow up like this, was about the worst thing she could have imagined. She wondered if Mingi ever noticed how he would reach for her first, covering for himself, before he let himself reach for Yunho. Sometimes she could almost hear Mingi’s father’s voice echoing out of his ears when he suddenly froze, questioning if he was doing something wrong.

Someday she would say her piece to that man. But not now. Mingi needed his support for school and there was no way of telling what stupid thing he would do if he heard that his son was more than just friends with Yunho. 

No one here knew them, no one here was friends with their parents, so she wasn’t worried in particular that anything would get back to him. Maybe having a chance to really see that everyone doesn’t find two boys in love strange or gross would be good. Of course there would always be some people who ‘didn’t approve’, not that it was their place to have an opinion either way. But it would be good for him to finally step out of the shadow his father had put him in his whole life. He was too kind, too sweet, too affectionate, too soft. He wasn’t strong enough, forceful enough, confident enough. No one could have been, not even a clone of himself. It’s one thing to ruin your own life with your self hatred, she fumed internally, it’s another to let that taint everything that you do with your kid. 

Enough, she told herself wiping her face and taking a few steadying breaths. They would work through it eventually, together as they always had. It would be fine. They just had to be careful, really. Much as she knew that Mingi was disgruntled that they weren’t in more classes together, it was probably for the best. The less time they were together outside, the fewer questions anyone would ask.

She had thought about suggesting that they all make their own friends, maybe even have a little more time apart, but she hadn’t suggested it after seeing their reaction to the idea that maybe the two of them could spend a little more time together or even consider letting themselves be ‘out.’ Maybe it was a dumb idea, she admitted, but she was tired of watching them hurt. It didn’t really have to change anything, she promised herself.

Standing up, she wiped her face and pulled herself together, and headed to the restaurant to pick up dinner. By the time she got back home she would be fine. She would make sure they never saw it worry her.

#ateez imagines #ateez #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez smut #kpop imagines #kpop smut #jeong yunho #song mingi #ateez angst #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #yunho x reader #mingi angst #yunho angst #yungi #ateez yungi #mingi scenarios #yunho scenarios

[imagine-loki]

You Have Heart

TITLE: You Have Heart CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 2/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine finding out that your soulmate is Loki and your very first kiss is interrupted by Thor shouting “Yeeessss” RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS:  This is a rewrite of the original work of the same name.  Also on AO3 here

You looked up in shock and saw that the entire theater was looking at you.  The flash of power had been brighter than you thought to draw everyone’s attention away from the action on the screen.  But it wasn’t every day that someone became the soulmate of an Avenger.  Or worse, the soulmate of Loki.  Loki was supposed to be the villain, wasn’t he?

No, the news and the team had made it clear that Loki had been under mind control during the battle. Loki wasn’t a villain, he’d just been made to do terrible things.  

That didn’t stop your shock at the flash of power from your tattoo. Or the rest of the theater’s.  The whispers started almost immediately.  The tattoos sometimes did weird things when they were activated, when the soulmate had been found.  Changing colors was frequent.  Some people reported a buzzing, fiery, or cold sensation.  There were reports of a flash of light.  

Usually, it wasn’t quite so flashy.  

You glanced at the words on your arm again, still in disbelief.  There was no denying it, though, the words had changed from black to emerald green with gold sparkles throughout the letters.  

You have heart

You hadn’t expected the words to be said in the manner they had been.  

Would he even believe you?  

There was no way a god would want someone like you for a soulmate. 

Soph was looking over at you with her mouth hanging open.  “Did-?” She couldn’t even form a sentence.  Her eyes went to the tattoo on your arm, which was still glowing faintly.  That definitely wasn’t normal.  Her eyes went wide.  Neither of you had known why those would be the first words you heard your soulmate say.

Now you knew.

Fuck.

What were you going to do?

The entire theater was still whispering and you realized that moments had passed, if that.  They were all still staring at you and you wanted to vanish and get away from all of their stares.  But of course that wasn’t going to happen.  The best you could hope for was everyone deciding it wasn’t interesting anymore and going back to the movie.  

After the movie, you could figure out what to do with this new development.  

And try to come up with something to say to Loki. 

But… that would never happen.  There was no way a no one like you was going to get to the Avengers, get them to believe you that you were Loki’s soulmate because you’d heard this line spoken in the movie, or get them to care or help you.  There was also no chance Loki would want you as a soulmate.  

You were doomed to being alone, your soulmate found but not reciprocated.  It was very rare for the soulmate bonds to be rejected, for soulmates to never be found, but it did happen on occasion.  And there seemed to be little to no hope that you would actually meet yours in person.

You tried to focus your attention back on the movie.  Maybe if you looked at it hard enough, everyone would stop staring at you and return their attention back to the movie.  

For a moment, you thought it was going to work.

For one single moment.

Then the moment was ruined by the shimmer of green magic at the front of the auditorium.  Two figures appeared there and you could see them clearly as the green shimmer faded away.  There was no denying who the two men were.  Especially since one of them was still on the giant screen behind them. 

Thor and Loki.  

The two brothers couldn’t be more different, Thor hulking, blond, and bearing his trademark hammer.  Loki was slimmer, though no less muscled and raven haired.   Both were dressed in their armor with their capes of red and green.  

“Brother, why are we here?” Thor boomed, drawing any eyes that hadn’t already been on the pair.  There were very few pairs of eyes that hadn’t been on them.  Most everyone was taking out their cameras now to take pictures of the pair showing up in the middle of the Avengers movie screening.  Thor seemed surprised that Loki had teleported him here.  You hadn’t even known Loki was on the realm.  Last you had heard, he had been taken back to Asgard to face punishment for a crime that wasn’t his fault.  

So why was he here on Earth? And why was he here now in this movie theater?

“You saw my tattoo light up.  She’s here somewhere, Thor.  I have to find her,” Loki replied in what sounded like a panicked snarl.  Her.  He wanted to find his soulmate.  Fuck.  Not her. You.  He was desperate to find you.  You heard what sounded like disbelief in his voice, like he hadn’t believed that he would have a soulmate.

“And you brought me along because…?” Thor asked as he scanned the staring crowd.  All eyes and cameras were on the brothers.  The whispers were back and louder than ever and not a single person was paying attention to the movie, which kept playing in the background.  “And how do you know she’s here anyway?”

“I put a spell on the tattoo centuries ago to make sure I would know when it was activated.  And I brought you along because the mortals like you better, oaf.  I did not wish to start a panic.  Now stop scaring them and help me look for her-“ Loki growled at his idiot brother.  The pair were definitely brothers with how they interacted.  

“Oh shit.  It’s real…” Soph said from beside you, her eyes wide with shock.  You were sure your expression was just as shocked and stumped.  

You nodded dumbly.  You had no idea what to say.  Or what to do.  Not only were you Loki’s soulmate….somehow… but he was here and was looking for you.  It was only a matter of time before…

His eyes rose up the rows of seats and caught on you and the glowing mark on your arm.  You still weren’t sure what to do.  Or what to say.  How did you greet a strange god?  How did you greet your soulmate?

You forgot your phrase.  You’d come up with a stupid phrase to greet any stranger you came across, as everyone did.  You couldn’t remember what it was at the moment.  Whatever it was wouldn’t have been appropriate for meeting this soulmate.  Nothing you could say would be appropriate for meeting a god.

So what were you going to say?

Loki’s eyes lit on you and he strode with his patented murder strut up the aisles toward you and Soph.  You had to come up with something to say.  And fast.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #you have heart #chapter 2 #nekoamamori

[vanchlo]

Birdy (Green Eyes / 2)

Read the first part, Green Eyes, here! :-) 

Blurb Synopsis: After finally meeting the mysterious Mr. Styles you subbed for, you take a job at the same school, right across the hall from him. You’re unsure how much longer you can hide your feelings for him as you’ve grown to become best friends. 

Genre: Teacher Harry, fluff, romance, angst, and a little sad.

Warnings: None

Word Count: Nearly 8k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Blackbird by The Beatles (click to listen)

*

Your desk was covered in Twix wrappers, multicolored gel pens, and empty cans of Coke. The new school year hadn’t even begun, and your desk already looked like a tornado had come by. Not to mention the fact that school started in almost three weeks and you hardly had any classroom books. You kept telling yourself it’s a high school English classroom, not a third-grade classroom. There’s a library down the hall for a reason, but the classroom barren of books drove you nuts. Your desk wasn’t shy to books though, as favorites of Harry had found a home on the dark wood. 

Leaves of Grass. 

Catcher in the Rye. 

The Sun Also Rises. 

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. 

Walking into your classroom on this sunny morning, the thought makes the smile on your face grow wider. Finally, you can say that you have your own classroom. The sight of the week-old books leaves the smile there on your lips. A laugh dances off of them at the sight of the Roald Dahl book, bringing you back to the memory when you found it there one morning. 

You had asked Harry why he included it in the occasional stack of books he loaned to you. He said it’s required reading, because so few people know the movies are based on a book. You’re just wondering when he’s going to slip The Outsiders or Stuart Little under your door next. 

The rows of ancient cream desks stare back at you, and you wonder just how you’re going to command a classroom in a few days. Well, seven of them to be exact. Then you try to remind yourself, for the twentieth time, that you’ve done this before. It won’t be so hard, then. Perhaps you’ll even have some past students, and that should help. Right? 

You’ve barely gotten a few steps into your classroom, because of the thoughts muddling your mind. Sighing, you slip off your bag to leave on your chair. One that some days you don’t even sit in, because your legs are walking miles around your classroom, setting up. Thumbtacks are scattered across the expanse of your desk, reminding you of the unfinished walls. Before you can think about the posters sitting in the corner, a flash of pink catches your eye. Furrowing your brow, your eyes flit back to the flash of color. 

It’s a hot pink Post-It note with messy handwriting in black ink. 

Should I get us burgers or subs for the meeting we have today? 

PS: You’re officially a teacher now with your own pad of Post-Its ;) 

You’re sure that the insane happiness painting your face would look more at home on that of a teenager. Nonetheless, you can’t get rid of it, and you wouldn’t want to. This rings even more true when you see the note is stuck to a copy of Matilda. A warmth blossoms in your chest as you pick it up, running your thumb along the weathered edges. Ones you haven’t touched in ages, it seems. Within seconds you’re stepping into the hallway, thoughts knitting together in your mind. They’re from the love you have deep down for this story, a favorite book, and movie of yours as a child. The elation budding in your mind stops when you find his door closed, just as you had minutes ago. Unable to hide your disappointment, a pout tugs at your lips as you turn around. 

“Ya gotta verdict already? Dat was quick,” a voice drawls from behind you. Your pout is a thing of the past, and a grin is making its way to replace it. Spinning around, your summery dress follows your twirling body. 

A couple paces away, Harry stands at the top step of the staircase. His trademark brown leather backpack is slung over one shoulder. A black Fleetwood Mac t-shirt hugs his upper half, a black and blue flannel covering his arms. His old skool Vans echo down the hallway as he walks towards you. 

“Well, I’ve already read it,” you inform him, observing his content smile turn into a confused one. “A couple of times actually. Once when I was 8, then some other times through the years.”

“Ah, so I got lucky and happened upon a lifetime favourite, have I?” he smirks, only a few steps away now. 

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, your growing hair tickling your chin before you move it away. “When are you going to tell me what your favorite book is?”

“When ya finally guess it right,” he quips, stopping in front of you. A dimple falls into his left cheek as he shows off his sparkling teeth. Okay, sir, it is too early in the morning to be looking this attractive. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to stop being so chipper when it’s only nine in the morning,” you tell him firmly, but it’s all for show. Poking his chest, your finger just hits pure muscle. Swoon. 

“Then maybe wake up, already, birdy,” he chirps, the Raybans in his hair moving when his head goes from side to side. Chuckling, he grabs hold of your finger and tries to bite it, but you pull away in time. The mention of the recent pet name slows you down, but you haven’t gotten bitten yet. “Ya betta not fall asleep in today’s meetin’ like ya did last week.”

“I didn’t fall asleep, I was just resting my eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. His amused giggle greets your ears as he unclips his ring of keys from his blue jeans. 

“Yes ya did, ya don’t getta lie t’ me, love,” he responds in between laughs, seemingly finding this more amusing than it really is. 

“Oh, so John can fall asleep at meetings, but I can’t?” you ask, your voice raising with laughter and faux annoyance. 

You watch Harry pluck his sunglasses from his head as you walk into his dark classroom. The streams of sunlight speckle desks and pictures donning his walls. As you flick on the light, the smell of oranges wafts over you again. The red bowl sat upon his desk filled with the citrus makes you feel at home, albeit his mere presence does that without fail. 

“No, ya can’t. Sorry, love. I don’t make tha rules ‘round here.”

“Lame,” you sigh, paging through the book mindlessly as you fall into his new chair. He finally splurged and bought a comfy leather one that you steal every chance you can get. 

“Want a Bit-O-Honey, honey?” Harry offers, pulling your eyes away from the familiar pictures. Grinning, you take the wrapped candy from his outstretched hand, trying to ignore the pet name. You find it hard to forget as you half look through the book and half watch him peel off his flannel. A sight, indeed. 

“Wait, how’d you put this in my room if the door was locked? The other books you sneaked in when I stepped out,” you ask suddenly, working on the piece of hard candy in your mouth. 

“I tol’ Marty tha janitor I forgot sumthin’ in yer room.” 

You can hear the smirk in his voice even though his back is to you. A broad one at that. When he turns just the slightest to peek at you, you find crinkles around his glimmering eyes. 

“Harry!” you scoff, your jaw falling to your chest, although not quite. 

“Oh stop it, ya know ya like it.”

Groaning, you cross your arms over your chest in annoyance, but it doesn’t last very long. 

“I don’t like all of these meetings,” you complain, throwing your head back onto the headrest. You flip to a page that makes you smile at the sight of cartoon Matilda. 

“Get used t’ it, ‘s one o’ tha big differences between bein’ a sub an’ a salaried teacher. Shoulda just stayed a sub then,” he jokes, driving you to pick up a Bit-O-Honey and throw it at his head. Turning away from the things he’s unloading from his backpack, he whines. “Heeey! Watch dat arm o’ yers, ‘s a scary one. Maybe ya should be teachin’ gym class instead.”

“Sports are ew,” you reply, ducking when he throws it back at you. “Harry Styles, you stop it!” you manage in between giggles, finally closing the book. 

“Oh ya, and what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it in t’ose heels, huh?” he teases, his hands leaving the pockets of his oversized backpack. “Ya gonna fly over t’ me, li’l birdy?” 

Huffing, you set down the book on his neat desk. Placing his hands on his hips, he turns to you and sticks out his tongue. 

“Oh, that’s it! You’re going to get it!” you threaten, standing from the chair as his laughter fills the room. 

“‘m soooo scared, boohoo,” he teases with a fake sob, his fists mimicking wiping tears from his cheeks. Snickering, he returns to his backpack. “Go hang up yer posters in yer room and leave me be fer once.” 

“You’re no fun,” you proclaim with a final whimper. Grabbing the book, you come up from behind him, softly hitting him with it on the shoulder. 

“I warned you,” he retorts. Before you know it, he gently grabs your wrist and pulls you over to stand in front of him. 

“Warned me about what?” you jest, a giggle wedging its way into your sentence as you drop the book onto a desk. You know that you’re getting on his nerves now. It’s the only time you’ve heard his teacher voice come out, but hey, you’re not complaining. 

His thick eyebrows above those eyes raise, wrinkling his forehead tan from your days at the beach the last few months. Harry pushing you off a rope swing into the water, him bitching about doing all of the paddling during your canoe trip, not so accidentally drenching your back with water from his paddle, and head dunking competitions while swimming. The tan looks far better on him, you think, as you admire the sun-kissed freckles peppering his face. 

“I told ya one time dat yer good at pushin’ me buttons, and here ya are doin’ it. I know I shoulda neva told ya dat,” he mutters, the curls atop his head dancing as his head rocks back and forth. The nervous laughter bubbling inside of you finds its escape, and you know that you’ve done it now. “But I guess ya jus’ don’t listen, do ya, bird?” 

You can’t stop yourself, and there you are poking his dimple with your finger. This time, you squeal when it finds its way between his nibbling teeth. His name leaves your lips in a near shout which only grows worse as his fingers dance along your ribs. 

“Stop, stop!” you cry out, but with no avail. His other arm comes around your middle to trap you with your back against a desk, despite your squirming. His other fingers dig into your sides before finding the soft flesh of your tummy. 

“Stop bloody screamin’, yer gonna make e’rybody think ‘m murderin’ ya or sumthin’,” he titters. You almost give in at the sight of his crinkly eyes and the smile stretching across his face. 

“And what if I don’t?” 

“Then I might jus’ hafta find a way t’ shut ya up, my li’l bird,” he coos from above you, a brunette brow raising. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes, really,” he hums, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your side now. 

His bubblegum lips relax, falling into a knowing smirk. The laughs disappear from the both of you as his fingers still, resting on your side. The seconds tick by as your heart hammers in your chest, because his face is closer than it was a second ago. You gulp, suddenly finding the gold flecks in his eyes you didn’t know were there. Or the smattering of tiny freckles along his nose. That all becomes a thought of the past when his lips become the only thing you can think about as they near you. “Shall I?” Harry says in a breathy whisper, and you’re nodding even before his last syllable hits the air. 

Your skin feels hot and prickly all over as your eyes fall closed, waiting for what happens next. The very thing you’ve dreamed of since that day you dropped the books in front of him. When he took off his shirt at the beach, revealing his toned chest covered in black tattoos. The charisma and kindness he carried at your very first meeting after you were hired, the beginning of you two being joined at the hip. 

His lips are soft when he presses them against yours, and warm. He surrounds your lips with his slowly, as excitement rushes through you. A woodsy smell engulfs you when your nose brushes against his prickly cheek. His lips feel like velvet against yours with the slightest taste of Carmex chapstick. You’re sure he can feel the smile hiding on yours as his top lip fits between yours like a puzzle piece. His thin beard you’ve never seen him without tickles at your skin as your lips mold together. You can still feel the tingle on your lips after he’s pulled away. As well as the one that spreads across your body when those green eyes look into yours. 

“See, I was right. It did get you t’ shuddup,” he mumbles, the blissed-out smirk on his face covering every inch of his skin. You’ve seen his nervous smiles and everything in between, but you’re certain you’ve never seen that smile before. Not that your face is any better, because right now it’s a competition between whose smile is bigger. It might just be a tie, and you wish there could be a tie-breaker. 

“You should do that more often,” you smile, an uneasy laugh bringing an end to your risky words. 

“I think ‘d be happy with dat.”

You try to tell yourself you’re glad his hands didn’t stray to your face, because he would’ve felt the heat of your tomato likened cheeks. There’s no use, because you want them there, but on your sides, as they are is better than nothing. It fills your stomach with multitudes of butterflies just to have your hands on each other. 

His hands draw shapes into your back when you wrap him in a hug. The fresh smell of his citrus body wash fills your nose, your skin touching the fabric of his shirt. 

“Ya gonna get all soft on me now, are ya?” he whispers above you, his cheek against the side of your head. 

“Mmmhmm,” is all you can muster as you find yourself dragging the tips of your fingers along his side. 

Raising your head to peek up at him, his eyes drop to you. “Good, I like ya dat way,” he murmurs, running his thumb along the roundness of your cheek. His tongue peeks out of his lips, held between his teeth. “Verdict?” he almost laughs, causing the butterflies inside of you to stir. 

“I don’t know. I think I might need um, another sample,” you smirk, watching a corner of his mouth meet his cheek. 

“Tha’s fair,” he agrees before dipping to plant another kiss to your lips. His lips are even more decadent a second time, and you quickly realize how addicting this could become. You realize it’s the only addiction you’d be okay with having as the tip of his nose caresses your cheek. 

Your lips part with a soft smack, much too soon for your liking. “We should prolly get back t’ work,” Harry snickers, his breath against your face sweet from the caramel candy. 

“Yeah,” you agree aloud, much to your dismay. “I’d give it an A, by the way.”

“Hmmm,” he thinks aloud, quirking his eyebrows in response. 

“A long overdue one.”

“‘d say yer right there,” he echos, pinching your cheek between his fingers. Giggling, you pull away as your laughs mix with each other’s. 

“Hey, Harry!” a voice calls, sounding far away. 

You separate quickly, like two magnets repelling each other. It saddens you, but when a colleague steps into Harry’s classroom a moment later, you’re met with relief as you grab the book off the desk. 

“Hi, Trent. Ya ready t’ see who falls asleep first in t’day’s meetin’?” he quips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly leaning against a desk. 

“My money’s on John, for sure,” Trent jokes, pressing his red glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh hi, Y/N,” he says, greeting you. You wave with a small ‘hi’ as you stand at the edge of the classroom near the windows uneasily. 

“I dunno, my money feels pretty good on her,” Harry teases, pointing a finger at you before winking. 

“Whatever. I better go take my nap now that you reminded me,” you return, sauntering out of the room and into the hall. 

Out of his presence, the butterflies take flight inside of you. A warmth fills your body all over when you reach the safety of your classroom. Closing the door, you fall against it with happiness jumping from the smile on your lips. Squealing with your hands held to your chest, you soon sigh at the thought of his lips. His lips soon being on yours again, and again, and again. 

Exhaling, you step down from the chair and stare at your hard work. Nodding in approval, you straighten the skirt of your patterned mustard dress. The happy face of Anne Frank looks back at you from the enlarged poster of her autobiography. Dragging your feet over to your desk, you plop onto your brown spinny chair, ignoring your heels forgotten on the floor. You bask in the new ambiance of your classroom, feeling the pleasure from the new posters donning your walls. 

The Diary of Anne Frank. 

Ross from F.R.I.E.N.D.S saying ‘you’re means y-o-u  a-r-e.’ 

The quote, ‘Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not’ - Tyrion Lannister.

A funny grammar poster that makes you feel like an even bigger English nerd. 

Frowning, the last poster in the corner sits there begging to be shown off, but you need help with it. After the events of earlier, you’re nervous to approach Harry. A sweet kind of nervousness, but nonetheless it’s there. Huffing, you grab the edge of the desk to pull you closer. Pressing play, the Queen song crawls from your laptop’s speakers, slowly filling the room. Clicking through your open windows, you finally find the unit plan you’ve been working on. 

Voices carry down the hallway outside your door, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. Squinting, as if it will help your hearing, you then tilt your head to look out your half-opened door. Jackson from the nearby history wing walks by, laughing at something somebody said. 

“Dis betta not be a bloody heavy desk, Jack,” somebody responds, amusement laced in their voice. 

“Hey, I know that voice,” you softly whisper to yourself, your lips curling at its sound. 

“You’re the one who agreed to help me! You can’t get out of helping me bring it in now, Harry!”

You hear the melodic sound of his laugh, perhaps one of your favorite sounds. The butterflies return when you let yourself think about getting to hear it as much as you’d like in these walls. 5 days a week for 9 months out of the year- well, something like that. 

A couple seconds later, Harry zooms past your door saying, “Get t’ work!” in a mocking deep voice, winking. 

“You!” you shout back, giggling to yourself with hot cheeks. You attempt to return your attention to the document open on your screen. It’s difficult, you find, because the thing consuming your mind is how nice Harry’s bum looked in those jeans. 

*

Chatter pecks at your ears as you swivel in your chair, watching your new colleagues converse around the table. Your new boss laughs with somebody standing at the room’s front by the projector screen. Reaching forward, you pluck another carrot from your plate to nibble on nervously. Once again, you pull out your phone to busy yourself, only making you feel guiltier for not mingling. You’ve already said at least a ‘hi’ to everyone in this room already, and you have the rest of your career to get to know them, you tell yourself. Bouncing your leg, your eyes drift to the clock on the wall. Impatience spreads like a hot wave throughout your limbs, bringing your eyes yet again to the back door to the conference room. When is he going to get here, you guess fervently, counting down the minutes until the meeting starts. 

A thud! surprises you when a white paper bag lands on the table in front of you. 

“Hmm, I didn’t know ya were a jumpa,” a voice snickers, its owner soon coming into view in front of you. Harry. “Why ya lookin’ like a lost puppy, bird?” he coos, pushing out his bottom lip as he pulls out the chair to your right.

“I’m not,” you retort, continuing to scroll through Instagram, stopping when you see a picture of a Goldendoodle puppy. 

“Yes, ya do. What, were ya wonderin’ what’d ya do if I didn’t show? Can’t have ya missin’ yer security blanket now,” he teases, poking you in the ribs with a glint in his eye. 

“Stop,” you giggle, placing your phone face down on the table. Sitting up and eyeing the food, you pinch his thigh for good measure. 

“Hey, watch those fingas, missy. They keep gettin’ ya into trouble lately,” he warns, tsking as his head goes from side to side. Opening the bag, he pulls out a familiar wrapped burger to hand to you. 

“Thank you, I’ll pay you back.”

“Shhhh, ya can pay next time. Sound good?” Harry hums, flitting his eyes to you with an eyebrow raise.

You give him his answer with a nod before taking a bite of the cheeseburger. Your boss starts to tell everybody to find a seat so they can begin the meeting. Out of the corner of your eye, Harry sets a packet of fries in front of you. Shooting him a smile, he returns it as he feeds one between his happy lips. Chairs squeak and whine as they’re moved and sat in around the long table. Somebody nudges your foot, and to no surprise, you find it’s Harry. He holds out a covered paper cup, a red straw poking from the top. A ‘thank you’ is held in your smile and he just nods, slipping off his sunglasses to set down. Your attention is stolen by his fingers raking through his curls to put them back in place. 

A thought pops into your head unwarranted, and consumes your attention as the principal speaks. I wonder if this means now I get to run my fingers through those curls, you ponder as you grab a fry. At the most inconvenient time possible, your mind starts to dig around. Doubts soon fill your thoughts, along with questions about what this will be with him. You try to push them away and lock them in a box, but they’ve done their job. Any smile left on your lips is gone now, and you continue to eat your burger quietly. 

“Ya eat jus’ like a bird with t’ose li’l bites,” Harry whispers, scooting closer to the table to retrieve the packets of ketchup from the bag. 

Turning to look at him, he holds a glowing smile in his eyes for you.  His shoe knocks into yours and he leaves it sitting on top of yours. Take that, stupid brain, you announce to your thoughts as you affectionately bump your knee against Harry’s. 

Reverting your thoughts to the towering figure speaking at the front of the room, a smile buds on your lips at the feeling of Harry rubbing his knee against yours. 

*

Rubbing your hands across your eyes, you feel the breath leave you in a whoosh. Tapping the board with your electronic marker that’s a pen, highlighter, and an eraser in one, you drag it in zig zags. The scribbles on the board disappear in a flash. Suddenly, it falls from your hands when you feel a pair of arms surround your waist. 

“Hiya, bird,” a voice says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Their warm breath tickles the nape of your neck, and so does the collar of their shirt. Spinning around, you find Harry standing there, a pout forming on his face. The adorable Starry Night tie you bought for him hangs loosely over his cornflower blue button-down. “What, why won’t ya lemme hug you?”

“Harry, anybody could walk in,” you insist, prying his arms from your waist. Bending down, you pick up the pen and place it back in its holder with a click. 

“All tha students are gone by now, babe. ‘s half past 3, and any dat are around are at practice. Tha last place they’d wanna be ‘s back t’ a classroom afta their first day o’ school,” he murmurs, wedging his way back into your good graces as he pulls you back into his arms. “I wanted t’ see how me birdy’s first day went. Sooooo, wha’s tha verdict?”

“It was good. A little overwhelming, though,” you hum in return, letting your head fall backward to fit against his cheek. 

“It ‘s fer e’rybody, love, so don’t worry. It’ll get betta, jus’ hang in there. Tha first month ‘s nothin’, that’s tha honeymoon period befo’ e’rythin’ goes wild.” His lips brush against your cheek with every word, the feeling of his ticklish stubble something you’re not yet used to. 

“Harry!” you scoff, turning your head to find his hairy cheeks creased with a devilish smile behind you. 

“‘m kiddin’, well not really, but hey, ya got me t’ help ya through it all. Don’t fret, love,” he tries to assure you, brushing the back of his fingers along your side. “What was yer favourite part o’ yer day, hmm?”

“Seeing some familiar students from when I used to sub. It was nice to catch up with them and hear stories,” you reveal, looking down as you cover his hands settled on your tummy with your own. 

“Mmm, that’s good. Familiar faces are always nice,” Harry mumbles, the point of his nose dragging along the expanse of your cheek. “Did I tell ya yet ya look really pretty in yer new dress?”

“Yes, you did. About three times, but thank you again.”

“Welcome, bird. I hope no teenage boys are crushin’ on ya now,” he jests, planting a loud kiss on your temple. The remnants of his minty piece of gum cover your face in a silent cloud as he laughs at his own joke. 

“Yuck! Oh and like there aren’t dozens of girls fawning over you in your classes?” you chuckle, bringing a whine to his lips when you squirm in his arms. “Put that lip away.”

“Or what? Hmm, what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it? Ya can kiss it away like all tha girls in me classes wanna do, if ya want,” Harry smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you turn around. Lifting a hand from his arm, it lifts to brush back the brown ringlets falling onto his forehead. 

“You’re gross sometimes. It makes me wonder how I can kiss that potty mouth.”

“Well ya do, and ya sure seem t’ like it,” he winks, dramatically licking his lips with a loud slurp. 

“Stop!” you exclaim, collapsing into laughter, your head returning to his chest. His hands clasp over your back, his thumb brushing your skin through the jade dress you wear. You’re grateful for your face hidden away in his chest for when you feel his lips pepper kisses from your temple to your neck. He leaves your skin tingling from his magical touch, and his growing curls leave a trail down your neck. 

“I think dis year’s gonna be a good one,” he coos against your ear, letting his smooth nose brush against its lobe. “I got tha reason right here.” 

“Can we do this though?” The words jump from your lips without a chance to catch them and shove them back in their safety. 

“Do what, love? Kiss? ‘Course, ya jus’ take yer lips and my lips, and put ‘em togetha’ like dis,” he wisecracks, lifting your head to show you the humor painting his face. Puckering his flushed lips, he closes the space between you to press a peck to your waiting lips. Pulling away, he quirks an eyebrow at you in silent questioning. 

“That’s not what I meant, Harry,” you continue, your words falling short of the thoughts buzzing around in your skull. 

“Then what’d ya mean?” 

“Can we, I don’t know . . ,” you begin, but you lose your footing. Leaving his arms regrettably, you almost lose your footing quite literally when he tries to hold on. A sound leaves his lips at your departure, but you try to ignore it. That’s easier said than done, you realize as you fight with yourself, wondering if you should say that word or not. “Date . . as colleagues?” 

They they are, free to the wind. It feels like coming home and your heavy book bag leaving your shoulders, although this time it’s far less trivial. The similarity doesn’t ease your anxious mind as you stop in front of your desk, fingering at the note that greeted you this morning. A pink Post-It note smattered with his sometimes unreadable handwriting, resting on top of a box of novels he gifted to you for your classroom. 

To my favorite teacher - I know you’ve been dreading this day for months, and looking forward to it, too. You’re going to do great. They’re going to love you. You’re not going to mess anything up. You got this, bird. Remember that. Take it easy on yourself. Remember, you have to take care of yourself, so then you can take care of them. You’ll learn from each other too. Just keep remembering pizza at the beach with me tonight to celebrate your first day. 

Harry xoxooxoxoxo 

“‘Course we can, as long as it doesn’t bleed into our work life. What d’ya mean?” Harry says, trying to inject lightheartedness into his words. You both can hear the failed effect they have, and they only make his words sound sadder. 

“I don’t know, I don’t want to like, get in trouble, or something. I just started this job.”

“Oh,” is all he mumbles. Mumbled or not, you hear the finality in his one word. As well as all that it says with that single syllable. 

Looking over your shoulder at him, you find the confirmation you needed knitting together his features. “Harry,” you say, turning the rest of your body to face him. He takes a step back, and now you know you’ve done it. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how’d ya mean it?” he retorts, coolness playing in his voice. He knows he’s done it, too. “Hmmm, bird? Ya only care ‘bout dat part o’ it - if we get caught and what people would think? Only wanna keep me a secret?” His words bite as he spits them into the air. They hit your face with a sting, but nothing compares to how he threw your nickname into the mud. The nickname you love, that happened all because of the first meal you shared together. 

“Harry, don’t. You know that’s not what I meant- Y-you’re being ridiculous,” you press, stepping forward. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, because he continues to walk away from you. Quickly, your hands grow shaky as the feeling consumes the rest of your body. 

“No, I know what ya meant. Or ‘s there mo’ ya want t’ say? Want t’ say dat ‘Oh, ‘s too risky, so maybe we shouldn’t do dis anymo’, even tho’ it makes us happy,’” Harry persists, his right hand lifting in question, before it falls with a slap to his thigh. 

“We never even said what this was,” you try to say, but before you get any further, you know you’re just making it worse. You know that he’ll read into your words incorrectly and assume the worst, despite your true meaning. At the realization, your heart pounds harder in your chest. The look on his face like you just slapped him tells you all you need to know. “Harry, wait.”

“No, yer right. We neva said what dis was, but apparently ‘s nuthin’ worth labelin’ or takin’ risks fer,” he grumbles. His head falls with a spiteful smile, but when it lifts again something shatters in your chest. With wet eyes, he continues in a croaky voice, “Then why’d ya take tha job knowin’ I was mad ‘bout ya?” 

Your lips wobble with his name dangling from them. When you try to walk over to him, you’re only two steps in when he holds a hand up. “No, don’t. ‘m glad ya told me early on. ‘m happy I didn’t already start fallin’ fer ya or anythin’. That’d be real shitty, wouldn’t it?” he wheezes, a strange smile tugging at his lips dealing failed sarcasm. Sniffling, a tear falls down his tanned skin and he brushes it away. With a shake of his head, he turns to walk out of the door. You know that you shouldn’t, but you let him, because you know you have to. 

Collapsing at your desk, your head falls into your hands. Tears splash into your palms as your chest shakes, wondering just how you turned the best first day into the worst first day. 

*

You know that a note won’t be there, but you continue to wish as your heels clack down the halls of lockers. You know that you’ll see his face no matter how hard you try to avoid him, and that it’ll hurt more than you thought it would. Although you prepared yourself, unlocking the door to your classroom and finding no notes from him hurts more than you suspected. The hurt only stings worse when you pass each other in the halls with your students trailing behind, eyes falling away instantly. The spark in the air is lost when he huffs, passing you on the way to the vending machine in the lounge, leaving as soon as he came. Although the hurt grew as the attacks came and went, nothing could prepare you for the absence of his notes that week. That was an eventuality you had dreaded thinking of since the day you found the first one, back in his classroom. 

You tried at the very least, albeit an understatement. Notes dropped into his mailbox went unanswered, as well as texts and phone calls. Even the bag of Bit O Honeys failed at their messages of apology. A few times you thought about trudging into his classroom after the bell rang, and hashing it out. Each time you mustered just enough courage to do so, a staff meeting got in the way. Or, within 5 minutes of the bell, his door was locked and he was gone. Speaking of staff meetings, you suffered even worse at those. No longer was he your security blanket at your side, because he no longer saved you a seat. Slowly, the young and pretty visual arts teacher grew to get on your nerves as you watched her be a little too nice to him. He didn’t entertain her taunts and turn to you with a smirk to rub it in your face. No, he was a good guy, and you had to go and ruin it, or what was becoming of it. 

He ignored you - at staff meetings, in the copy room, in the staff lounge, in the halls, when both of your classes were in the library - basically everywhere and anywhere. It was an understatement to say you suffered because of it. You had to buddy up with Jen, the poetry teacher. She took the brunt of your questions, whether technology-related or English related. You became fast friends, but unlike the easiness with Harry, you quickly felt you were a nuisance. That was something he never made you feel like, well, until now that is. 

You made the mistake of getting your hopes up when you found a bag of Bit O Honeys in your mailbox one morning. That is until the white note on it told you in his writing to stop plugging his box with them. Instead, you tossed them on the counter in the staff lounge to share, never wanting to see those yellow and red wrappers again. Quickly, what you thought had become your dream job morphed into a nightmare. His face filled your thoughts day after day, and it especially distracted you when your mind chose the tear-stricken memory. It bled into your lectures and although it stung less when you saw him, without fail every day, it was messing with your mind. It didn’t help when you were beginning a unit on Romeo and Juliet and a student joked you could play Juliet and Mr. Styles could play Romeo, quite literally. 

*

You had been staying after school every day to finish lesson plans, grade tests, reflect on teaching, and plan for the next day. The October chill that arrived this week only made you want to stay in your cozy classroom with the Autumn decorations you hung up. Soon, it would be Halloween and costumes would fill the halls. The thought pours memories into your mind, but a particular one sours the enjoyment for you. The memory of planning a matching costume with Harry. Jay and Daisy from The Great Gatbsy, like the English teacher nerds you are. Were. 

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you reach for your water bottle. A groan finds its way past your lips when you pick it up, only to find it's empty. Standing with it in your hands, you cross the room to your door. After a few steps into the hallway, your movements freeze at the sight of his open door. Biting back any hesitations, your hand shakes when it presses against the wood. 

Something thrilling washes over you when you find his head bent over his desk. His left hand covered with varying rings props his head up as he marks the page with his favorite red pen. A Micron pen, but only you would know that. Pausing, he fiddles with the tan braces strapping his shoulders clad in a handsome white and gray checkered button-down. Words stick together inside of your mouth, and when you hear the click of your shoe, regret surges inside of you. 

“I made a mistake,” you say, testing the waters, although you know they’re stormy. Clearing your throat, you hope the subsequent ones will come out louder and stronger, before he can stop you. Your galloping heart jumps when he lifts his head to look at you, a question painting his face. “I fucked up, and I could never say how sorry I am. I said the wrong things, and I didn’t mean them that way- that’s not the point . . . I miss you, Harry. You’re all I think about, even when I’m thinking of other things, or when I’m teaching. That’s how I know it’s bad, because even though it’s only been a month, it still hurts like it was yesterday,” your voice screeches to a halt. You take one step at a time as he watches you. 

A curl tickles his bearded cheek, making you want to tuck it back into place, but you can’t. A crumb from a chip sits on his chin, making you want to brush it away, but you know you can’t. And neither can you whisk away the worry lines forming around his eyes. 

“I need you, not just to help me figure out how to use a projector or what a conjunction is again. But I need to tell you about the good parts of my day, and even the bad parts. Because even though we haven’t talked for like a month, my mind still goes to you when something good happens, or even bad. Even my students tease that we should be together, so that says something,” you try your hand at joking, but he turns his attention back to his desk. “Harry, please. I’m sorry,” you plead with him, tears catching the last of your words. 

“Sorry doesn’t jus’ make it all go away, bird,” he returns cooly. His head lifts ever so slightly, only to fall. As if he changed his mind a few seconds into a decision.

“I know, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll buy you Bit-O-Honeys for the rest of your life, grade your papers, check your mailbox, or buy the next meals for a month. Anything.” The apologies run off of your lips, but he doesn’t say anything, nor do his actions. An exhale whooshes over your pursed lips as your nails dig into your clenched palms. Defeat covers your body as you turn to leave. 

“None o’ dat takes away what ya said,” he announces painfully, the new fabric of his chair squeaking with his movements. 

“I know,” you say automatically, a battle waging its way inside of you of whether to look at him. As if his words laced with hurt didn’t already leave you breathless. “So tell me what I have to do.”

“I can’t do dat, bird. Ya should know,” he sighs, clucking his tongue in disbelief. 

Your eyes fall shut and your jaw clenches in anger, but the sweet smell of oranges brings you back to the moment. “I’m sorry that I made it seem like it wasn’t worth being with you, because it was, and I realized that even more after . . what happened. I’m sorry that it didn’t seem like I was dedicated enough, but I want to be a- I want to show you that I can be, and I want to be that to you. I’m sorry that I care too much about what other people think, because I only care what you think. It’s ripped me apart lately knowing that you hate me, and how you can’t even be around me, and . . ,” your string of words breaks off, stolen away by your onset of tears. They rumble through your chest with tremors, and the embarrassment brings your hands to your face streaked with them. 

The howling of the wind hugs the windows, masking any other sounds. If there were, you can’t hear them, but you do feel something. His fingers wrapping around yours, pulling your hands away from your face. 

“Ya gonna stop now befo’ ya make me cry too?” he hums, one corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. With raised eyebrows, they pose the question to you. Nodding fast with hiccups stealing your words, he kneads your hands between his own. “Are ya gonna shuddup or am I gonna hafta make you?” Harry softly laughs. 

“You’re going to have to make me,” you return, stumbling over your sobbed words. 

“Good, was hopin’ ya’d say dat.”

Smirking playfully, he steps forward to cup your face in his hands. The callused tips of his fingers make quick work of the tears staining your face, as well as his lips. “Don’t cry, and don’t ever say dat I hate you,” he coos in between pecks to your wet skin singing with his kisses. “Don’t want me pretty birdy t’ cry no mo’.”

“Your bird doesn’t want to cry and be sad, and miss you anymore,” you whimper, trying to hold it all in, but it comes pouring out. 

“Baby bird,” he pouts sadly, his rose lips round and extended. His brow presses into a sad line as the same emotion carries his words. “Lemme make it all betta.”

Nodding, you hiccup again as you cover his hands with yours. His subsequent smile warms your insides cold and aching from the long days without him. His lips bring a respite when they touch yours, ending the harsh drought. Kissing him back, you revel in the feeling of his unkempt scratchy beard against your face. Just one more thing you missed. Severing the kiss, you mumble an ‘I’m sorry’ against his chapped lips. 

“Shhh, ‘s okay, love. I know ya are,” he tells you before bringing his lips back against yours. They move together slowly, welcoming the return of the other. 

Your mouth falls to envelope his bottom lip in between yours, his facial hair feathery against your mouth. Hungrily, you kiss him and savor his familiar taste and smell. Fingers drifting to his hair, they return home to his buttery curls. His lips pull away only to plant another kiss against your mouth. Too soon, he breaks the kiss with a breathy laugh against your lips. 

“My goodness, lemme breathe, love.”

“Sorry . . I missed you.”

“Ya sure did, bird. Think I missed ya a li’l more, though,” Harry chuckles as your hands fall from his locks. His thumb steals the last hint of a tear from under your eye. The amusement creasing his features disappears swiftly. “‘m sorry too, y’know. I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have put meself over yer job. It wasn’t fair o’ me t’ do dat. D’ya think I can have those Bit-O-Honeys back, or were ya serious ‘bout buyin’ me a lifetime supply?”

Groaning, you playfully shove at his chest, only to have him wrap you up in his arms. “I guess I was serious.”

“Hmm, ya don’t sound too serious ‘bout it, bird. But that’s okay, I got all tha honey I need right here,” he replies, planting a kiss atop your head nuzzled into his neck, swaying you back and forth. Nodding, you finally let yourself relax for the first time in weeks at the greeting of his sweet smell. One that feels like home to you. “Wait, yer students said we should be togetha? That’s funny, cuz so did mine.” 

#green eyes #harry styles green eyes #green eyes fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #fanfiction #fan fic #one direction fanfiction #wattpad #writing #narrymccartney writes #narrymccartney #harry x reader #one direction x reader #harry styles x y/n #your name #reader #y/n

[tearsofgrace]

Ragged Angels

starting a new fic for anon :) ima post in three short chapters probably, but here’s chapter one

warnings: none, tags: mafia au, modern setting, fluff, angst, established relationship rating: t (violence)

also posting on archive

The soft crunch of wheels on gravel sent a shiver down Cas’ spine and he looked up slowly, drawing his knife back from the throat of the man tied up below him. It was an interesting blade--silver and shaped more like a short sword than anything. He’d got it out of a deal years ago, and it had become his trademark. 

“Looks like your friends are here,” he said quietly, tracing the man’s hairline with the cool metal. Cas noted distractedly that his hair was sloppy, like he’s cut it himself months ago and never bothered to try again. From behind him, he could see the drops of sweat running down the sides of his face, but not the man’s eyes. He needed to see his eyes. 

Cas walked around to the front of him and lowered himself to look straight into the man’s eyes. He let a small smile creep onto his face and traced the man’s throat with his knife, letting the smile grow as he did. 

The veins in the man’s neck bulged as he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “They’ll kill you,” he muttered. 

“I doubt that,” Cas said. 

“Just give me more-”

“I guess they’ll have to get the money,” his voice was still soft, but he let a slight edge creep into it. 

The man sucked in a deep breath, but before he could let it out Cas slammed the blade through his throat. A small noise escaped the man, and then he was silent. Cas pulled out the knife and wiped it thoughtfully with the handkerchief in his pocket before stepping back. Then he turned and walked from the warehouse.

He heard shouts behind him, chaos erupting as the body was found. He smiled grimly to himself and rolled his eyes. Then he hopped into his truck and drove away. 

His hands were loose around the wheel, and he could see out of the corner of his eyes that he’d gotten a little bit of blood under one nail. It glittered slightly in the fading light, taunting him, and he tried unsuccessfully to dig it out. Right when he was about to pull over and fix it, a soft buzzing pulled his attention away. His frustration mounting, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

As soon as he saw the name, it all melted away. All the frustration, the nerves that he would never admit still wracked him whenever he killed a man, the sound of tires rolling up still echoing in his mind. All of it gone, replaced with a single name: Dean. 

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas. You almost done?” 

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Dean sounded so young, so innocent. He only let himself get like this when he was talking to Cas. That’s when the wall came down. “Yes.”

“And you can still come tonight, right?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t miss it.” 

Dean let out a contented sigh, and Cas could almost feel his warm breath against his ear. He moved the phone to hang up, but he heard Dean grunt on the other end, like he was going to say something and then he stopped. 

“What?” 

“Did-” Dean took a deep breath in and then started again with a new steel in his voice. “Did everything go okay?” 

“You know you don’t need to worry about my work.” 

“I know, and I don’t care, honestly. I just-” Dean hesitated again and Cas smiled in spite of himself. He was adorable. “I worry about you.” 

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Dean. Everything’s taken care of.” 

There was rustling on the other end, and then, “Okay. I love you.”

“I know,” Cas said with a smile. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

Then he hung up, the glint of blood under his nail catching in the light as he hit the red button and he cursed quietly to himself and set his phone in the cupholder, rolling his shoulders back before turning his full attention back to the road.  

-------

The smell of champagne and snobbery wafted through the air, and Cas sucked it all in with a smile. He knew almost everyone here of course, though most of them would never admit to knowing him. It was bad for business.

Not that it mattered; tonight was Dean’s night. 

Speak of the devil (or angel, in Cas’ mind), Dean was weaving through the crowd toward him. He’d rented a black tux--Cas would have bought him a nicer one, but he’d refused--and it hugged his form tightly. Dean so rarely dressed up, Cas felt his pulse tick up slightly at the sight. But even if his breathing increased slightly, he looked perfectly calm from the outside. Staying calm under duress was one of his many specialties. 

“Cas,” Dean breathed as he reached him. And Cas almost let a smile slip out, just at that one simple word. The smile he reserved for himself, when no one else could see him. The smile that he even hid from Dean, most of the time anyway. 

So he suppressed it, keeping his face a perfect taciturn mask. “Hello, Dean.” 

He reached out for a flute of champagne from the passing waiter’s tray, but Dean’s hand snaked out and caught his. He took a step in closer and Cas took in another deep breath, determined to stay in control. Dean twisted his hand so they could both see it and slowly traced his nail. The nail with blood still caught underneath it. 

“I thought you said it went well?” 

Cas drew his hand back and pressed a short kiss into Dean’s forehead. “And I thought I said not to worry. Don’t you have places to be? People to introduce me to?”

Dean let out a little huff--Cas had to push back that damn smile again--and then took Cas’ offered arm, leaning into him slightly. He nodded to an older couple standing in the corner. The woman had a floor length red gown on, completely with a sparkling diamond necklace wrapped around her neck. 

Cas’ eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of it. He’d sold it just weeks ago after taking it off a high-ranking government official. He’d almost bemoaned the loss, regardless of the profit. Dean had looked amazing with it and nothing else on. He glanced down at Dean and saw the blush rising in his cheeks. He pulled him a little closer to his body then guided him over to the couple. 

“Mrs-,” he paused for effect, even though he never forgot a name, “Autry, was it?” 

She glanced up, and to her credit, gave no sign of recognition. “Yes, it is. And you are…” she trailed off, with a quaint raise of one brow. 

“Mr. Novak. And this is my husband, Dean Winchester. He organized this whole event.”

Her companion’s eyebrow raised at the word husband and Cas rolled his eyes slightly, forcing a civil expression. 

“This is my husband, Charles Autry.” 

The party lapsed into awkward silence, and Cas felt Dean shift beside him, clearly searching for a topic of conversation. Cas squeezed his arm a little and looked straight ahead with clear eyes. They could handle a little silence. And Dean needed to remember, even if this was his event, Cas was in control. 

Mr. Autry cleared his throat and took a champagne before glancing between them. “So, ah, how did you two meet?” 

“At an event just like this one,” Cas said softly, as if daring further comment. 

“And it really,” the man glanced at his wife, then back at them, “It really works? I mean how much older are you?” 

Cas sighed. It was inevitable that they would get asked questions like this, but it really did nothing to help his already roused anger. “Twenty-two years,” he answered, tugging Dean’s arm gently. “Excuse us.” 

They walked to the front of the room where a table was set up, their names displayed at two of the place settings. Dean felt stiff beside him, his movement mechanical, and Cas unhooked Dean’s arm from his own, stopping to face his husband front on. 

He leaned in close, putting his ear right beside Dean’s. “I don’t care how old you are, Dean. You are mine. And they all know it too.” 

Dean shuddered visibly, but then he seemed to relax, an easy grin spreading across his face. “You sure about that, angel?” 

Cas reached up a hand and slowly trailed it down Dean’s cheek, noting how quickly he leaned into the touch. “I’m sure.” 

He pulled Dean’s chair out and gently guided him down with his hands on his shoulders before pushing the chair in for him. He took his seat right next to Dean, and then sat in silence as the rest of the table filled up. 

The people at these things always looked the same. Black tuxes, plunging necklines, scandal practically oozing off of them. 

One of the black tuxes leaned forward and nudged his partner, pointing at Dean. “Hey,” he started, “you’re the one who organized this whole thing, right?”

“That’s me.” 

“I think it’s really amazing. What you’re doing for all these women…” he trailed off and Dean nodded slowly, his eyes glittering with amusement. The guy coughed into a handkerchief and then went on, “it must be nice getting to be around them all the time too.” 

In an instant, Dean’s eyes narrowed and he raised slightly in his chair. Cas put a steadying hand on his arm and Dean looked over at him, the anger slowly fading from his face. “That’s not what this is about. This about helping survivors of abuse and if you-” he cut off as his voice started to rise and he took a deep breath. 

“What Mr. Winchester means,” Cas stepped in smoothly, “Is thank you for coming tonight.” 

The gentleman nodded and gave a small shrug before turning to his wife. 

“You okay?” Cas said with a hand on Dean’s knee.

“Fine. I know we need their money… but these people are dicks.” 

Cas tilted his head and looked up and down Dean’s face. “Yes… yes I suppose they are.” 

Dean grinned over at him and picked at the salad that the waiter had just brought. “We are so going out for burgers after this.” 

“You’re insatiable,” Cas said with a roll of his eyes. But anyone who knew him well could see the ghost of a smile dancing around his lips. 

-------

The cold air bit into them the second they stepped out into the busy New York street. Cas wrapped his coat tighter around himself and slipped Dean’s arm through his own.  

A limo pulled up to the curb but Dean looked up at him, and as so often the case with them, he understood exactly what he needed. “We’ll walk,” Cas said to the valet. 

Their steps echoed off the walls as they left the din of car horns and squealing tires and entered the relatively quiet alley behind the venue. 

“That went well,” Cas started. 

Dean’s face lit up like it always did when he talked about the shelter. He wet his lips the answered, “Yeah. It really did. We made $7,000 more than our goal and there was lots of press there. If we follow it up… we should get all eight women into apartments by the end of the month.” 

Cas pressed a kiss into Dean’s hair. “I’m glad.” 

He could see the next street opening out in front of them, barely one hundred feet away. Cars sped by and people milled about under the glow of the street lights. Barely one hundred feet to go, and Cas felt all of his senses suddenly go on edge. He wasn’t sure what he’d heard, or even what he’d seen, but something was wrong. 

The gun he’d tucked in his waistband (despite Dean’s protests) felt cold against his skin, and he reached back for it without thinking. Dean glanced down at the weapon and his eyes widened. Still, he rolled his shoulders back and glanced around the alley, his eyes narrowing as quickly as they’d opened up. 

The soft sound of fabric rustling sent them both whirling around, instinctively twisting so they were protecting each other’s backs. 

“Hello, boys,” a gravelly voice tinged with a British accent whispered as a man wearing a black trenchcoat emerged from the shadows.

Cas felt his lips part just barely and he sucked in a deep breath. “Crowley.” 

“You took something from me today.” 

Dean moved next to him, shifting slightly so they were both facing Crowley. He felt Dean pull the knife he kept inside his jacket out and let it hang loosely at his side. 

“The groveller you sent to beg forgiveness? Pardon me if I’m not bowing before you,” Cas said, letting his voice drop into its lowest registers. 

“Gavin was family.” 

Cas kept his face composed, but inside he felt a little thrill. Family? He’d thought it was just another of Crowley’s goons, one of the indisposable goons he called on when he didn’t want to get his hands dirty. 

Dean took a step forward and rotated the knife slowly in his hand. “What was he? Some bastard son from an affair with a whore?” He snorted and looked back to Cas with raised eyebrows before turning his attention to Crowley. 

Cas had to give him credit. He didn’t even know who Crowley was and still without hesitation he went after him. Although, Dean always did have a temper to him. 

Crowley shuffled his feet and didn’t respond, and this time Cas did let his expression show. Just a single quirked eyebrow as he stepped forward to join Dean. 

“He is your son,” Cas said, his tone growing more light-hearted. “Well in that case, my sincerest apologies.” 

“You took something from me,” Crowley repeated, “and now I’m going to take something from you.” 

Cas felt the blow to the back of his head before he could even turn, and immediately pain shot through him, his vision dancing with black spots. Instinctively, he turned to find Dean. 

He was grappling with a masked man against the wall, but he seemed okay for the moment, so he turned to the person who had hit him. She tried to slam the walking stick into his head again but he grabbed it, twisting it from her grasp. 

He stepped forward, his breath settling and becoming smooth before he struck her on the temple with her own weapon. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth dropped open. For just a second, she stood there, swaying, Then she crumpled to the dirty ground. 

To his left, a body dropped, and he felt a cold hand wrap around his heart. But as his eyes readjusted to the dim light he saw Dean standing over the body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as a trail of blood dripped from his knife. 

Cas moved toward him, but before he could even take two steps, the cool rush of electricity jolted through his system and everything went black. 

-------

When he came to, his cheek was pressed against an advertisement for a weekend getaway to Cabo that had been dirtied by its time outside. He peeled himself off it and sat up, head ringing as he glanced around the alley. 

A sleek black cat jumped down from a garbage can and disappeared into the night, but there was nothing else. No sign of Crowley, of the people who had jumped them, of the body Dean had dropped, of-

His train of thought came to a crashing halt as he leapt to his feet glancing around frantically. 

Dean was gone. 

tag list {as always feel free to ask to be added or removed!}:

@fandomstuff67 @menjiiii @chaoticdean @vought @flowersforcas @starlightcastiel @larryforeveralways @starclaire @tlakhtwritesdestiel @wanderingcas

#i don't write au's #what am i doing #requested by anon #anon #requests #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn fan fiction #destiel fanfic #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #my writing

[twisted-nox-sidus]

Hello there, I’ve just read your headcannon of Strix trolling the Octavinelle trio. LOL. Thank you for the laughs. Since April fool’s day is coming. If you have the time, can you do a scenario where Strix trolls the other dorms with the help of her dream eaters. If you can include Malleus, it’s okay. If not, I understand. Thank you and stay safe.

Anon continued: Hi there, during my previous post, I was asking whether or not Malleus would join Strix’s trolling in trolling the other dorms since April Fools is coming. Oh! I almost forgot, can Grim and Lilia join with Strix in trolling. Thank you and have a good day or night.

Oof, doing six other dorms is a lot in one post, so I’ll keep things condensed, hence the headcanon format (sorry if you really wanted a scenario version!). I see Malleus and Lilia as types to watch for entertainment than directly take part in it. Strix left Grim out of her plans since he himself is chaotic already. It was time for her to assume the lead and let it out, at least for the day.

It’s come to my attention that I like doing headcanons of Strix and her dream eaters, so I plan on doing more headcanons/scenarios involving the pesky but cute spirits. They don’t stop here so look forward to it! Happy April Fool’s~

Heartslabyul

Heartslabyul could handle strange things more so than any other dorms. Just not anything against the crimson tyrant’s 810 rules.

“WHO PAINTED THE ROSE MAZE BLUE?!!!”

Riddle’s face fumes as red as his hair. Not a single trace of red is found! There was only blue as far as the eye can see.

Deuce, Trey, and Cater were rendered speechless by the sight. Just...wow. They’re not even dreading the culprit’s fate at Riddle’s mercy; instead they’re impressed with the feat. Such commitment!

Meanwhile Ace was resisting from bursting in a fit of laughter. That madwoman actually did it! She even casually remarked about doing such a feat but no one had paid her words seriously. Bravo! Bra-freaking-vo!

Ah, speaking of...

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face, Strix! You must be begging for your head to roll! This is defying the Queen of Hearts herself! Repaint every single rose -by yourself- until all is red!”

“Sheesh, let’s not get a rage stroke. You’re still so young...” Strix nonchalantly yawns. “I wanted to surprise you so I spent the whole night painting every rose blue. Of course, I had a helping hand with me.”

She vaguely gestured to the dream spirit hiding behind her leg. Me Me Bunny’s ears act as another pair of hands, and this cutie is quite dextrous; it also knows “bun fu”.

“Oh you surprised me all right. [Surprise] is only an understatement!”

A sigh. “You don’t get it, Riddle. Think of it this way. Blue makes the red stand out. Then the only red rose we’ll see...is you, my queen.”

She leans forward to slip a strand of Riddle’s velvet red locks between her fingers and graze her lips on them. Her half-lidded bright blue eyes gaze into his steel gray pair. Perhaps she was still under the drowsy spell to comprehend what she was doing, though a part of her was knowingly teasing.

Riddle stared wide-eyed. His cheeks flushed in a different meaning this time.

She pulls back to give space and turns the other way.

“Plus, contrary to your words, I think you actually like my surprise. It’s certainly not boring. And it’ll only be for today.”

Strix flashed a lazy grin his way.

“Happy April Fool’s~”

Savanaclaw

Strix’s dream eaters are quirky, adorable, and colorful spirits. Jack often questions their capabilities. What can little prey do to the brawny hotheads of Savanaclaw?

A lot.

One day Strix was on patrol. Jack had been keeping an eye as she works part-time as the “cleaner” of Savanaclaw. Just how much power can she draw from these familiars? It was a test for Strix to see if she can meet the standards of a respectable magician in this academy.

Meanwhile Ruggie anticipates something interesting will happen. Strix’s dream eaters are an enigmatic force to reckon with. He himself certainly doesn’t plan on confronting them since that’s not what he signed up for as vice dorm leader.

The hyena snickered his trademark laugh. What mayhem will the prefect student do?

Strix had to break up a fight for the nth time this week. Things happened, and one of the students said something that forced Strix to deal her hand.

Instead of commanding her eagle and hawk to attack, she summoned a single chubby cat/dog hybrid with stubby legs. It doesn’t look like a clever beast.

Aww, look at it roll around and paw at air for affection while its pink tongue stuck out. They’re going to die of cuteness.

Strix blankly stared ahead. “Meow Wow... Balloon.”

Said spirit stood on all four legs and stopped wagging. Every onlooker watched as it inflated in size. It continued to grow and grow until no one could see the light of day. It was then everyone thought it’d be wise to run from immediate vicinity.

However it was too late when Meow Wow deflated in puffy smoke and sparkles, drowning its victims along with the plume of clouds.

Jack and Ruggie watched from a platform above where they could see the area in action.

“Magic familiar tamers have unique strengths...” Was what Jack concluded. A hawk and eagle’s cries pierce the sky.

Ruggie rubbed the back of his head. “Let’s be real; in this world, birds are a real hassle. As long as you don’t make an enemy of them...”

Strix was already gone by the time Meow Wow inflated. Her eagle dream spirit now willingly massive in size acted as her glider and transporter. Strix’s body dangled as she clung tightly to her Eaglider’s talons until it settled her on the balcony of a dorm room. Eaglider flew to patrol elsewhere alongside Halbird, the hawk dream eater.

Sitting on a chair was Leona playing with a chess piece in his hand. A chessboard was already set up on the table, the black side facing him.

“Enjoying your job, aren’t you.”

Strix allowed a sheepish smirk. She’s not exactly proud to engage in cleaning up people’s messes, but there’s the thrill she finds in it. “To be honest, yeah. I think I might be a sadist at this point...” She mumbled under her breath and continued, “Sorry for the wait. Let’s start.”

Scarabia

“Jamil, a rainbow fish is swimming through the skies!”

“Nonsense. There are no aquatic animals in Scarabia. You probably just saw a magic carpet.”

“Then how come no one told me magic carpets can shoot lasers??”

Before Jamil can decipher whatever the hell Kalim meant by that, the sapphire blue skies turned murky. No, that wasn’t the work of clouds.

To everyone’s bewilderment, they bared witness to a school of colorful fish roaming freely through the air and above the whole dormitory aimlessly.

Lasers shoot from their mouths and make contact with the other to cause sparks to erupt in colorful fireworks. So that’s the laser part...

Kalim’s eyes sparkled. “It’s like the aquariums at Octavinelle, but airborne! *gasp* I just got a great idea for the next party!”

“For the nth time Kalim no more parties this month!”

*whistle* “Fin Fatale’s actually enjoying this. Who’d knew?”

The two boys turn to see Strix approaching them causally.

Strix grinned. “Bet you don’t see this in Scarabia often.”

Pomefiore

Pomefiore students have a tendency to look into a mirror at almost any given opportunity. They recognize every detail of their their highly bestowed beauty, lest they would fail to maintain perfection.

Imagine their surprise when a carbon copy of themselves suddenly replaces their reflection, except in a horrendous eye-burning color palette that screams “clown”

Turns out the copy really is a clown creature with a large tongue. Jestabocky simply loves to prank people at the expense of their reactions, and it took a liking to Pomefiore students.

Strix giggled in amusement, much to Vil’s chagrin. Standing next to the man was a Vil duplicate, except in that hideous orange carrot and lemon yellow palette that made his eyes want to bleed. Of course no one could ever compare to the original, especially a circus mimic at that.

Rook was examining his blood red and ice blue carbon copy. What a refreshing change of pace! “Your dream eaters never cease to amaze, little owl.” “Don’t hunt them for sport though!”

Epel was staring at his clone awkwardly. Cotton candy hair and yellow eyes are an odd combination. And would it stop grinning uncharacteristically like that? It’s freaky.

Strix looks beside her. Teal green hair, violet eyes, and an orange to yellow uniform color scheme. It’s horrendous, but that’s where the fun lies. Her dream eaters don’t know the meaning of color coordination.

Ignihyde

Strix thinks a surprise here and there in the shut-in dorm leader’s life ought to keep him on his toes. She knows how much Ortho wants him to come out his room, and so she’ll deliver just that.

Idia recieved an alert message as he was browsing the net. A window pops up displaying the security camera footage across the entire Ignihyde dorm.

To his horror, rainbows invaded the cameras everywhere he looked. In each one there was a massive bipedal colorful panda doing something to the students behind the screen. One was lifting a student to the air, another swinging and cradling, and others generally giving bear hugs to any soul -dead or living- that enter their vision.

Though the pandas are harmless and students are unharmed (some seem to enjoy it while others are bewildered in shock), Idia was quaking in his chair. If he walks out the room he’ll be crushed by the pandas’ mercy! (And by rainbows and cuteness!)

He zoomed in one of the footages. A Kooma Panda held a sign directly to the camera.

[YOU’RE NEXT]

This is nightmare fuel! Nightmares, he tells you!

Just as he spun around to hide and cower in the safety of his blankets, he had failed to notice the looming shadow over his flaming head prior to this very moment.

There was the same panda. In his bedroom. Staring right into his soul.

It smiled. (I reread this part and lowkey I realized I was writing a FNaF fanfic for a moment wut)

Idia wheezed. How did it get here?! Was it capable of teleporting?!

The shut-in had never ran for the door to the outside world with such eagerness in his life up to now. He slammed the door open and was about to hit the breeze when suddenly he recognized Strix standing right in front of him.

He practically tackled the poor girl (oof). Just when he dreads the contact with the floor, he felt something bouncy push them off. And then the same bouncing source came from behind. Now he’s squeezed between something.

The world spun in his eyes. Light-hearted laughter snapped him out of his trance. His soul actually came close to leaving him the moment Strix’s face registered in his vision. So close!

Two Kooma Pandas were hugging and nuzzling the two in a human-dream eater sandwich. Awww.

From the sidelines, Ortho watched in awe. That’s one way to bring his big bro out of the room. He eagerly joins in the hug fest with Strix and an all-too drained Idia.

Strix giggled and wrapped her arms around Idia and the panda behind him. She was clearly enjoying this. “Happy April Fools~”

Diasomnia

First things first: Strix can’t fool two all mighty and powerful faeries. Instead, she’ll entertain them like she and her dream eaters have always done. After all, boredom is their kind’s biggest enemy.

One day, Diasomnia students were walking down the halls when they notice a colorful bat creature hanging upside down from the ceiling, innocently watching people pass by.

There was one Komory Bat. The next door over there are two. The door after that door appeared three. In front of the dorm gate there may or may not be a bat perched to greet students in and out.

In the library, students are surprised when they’re greeted by the librarian aid...who was working upside down and levitating with gravity magic.

Strix casually acts as though it was natural. When she had to move away from the counter she continued walking upside down on the ceiling. If the ceiling was too high she’d float over just above people’s heads, and address when needed.

Strix likes to mess with Sebek by doing a “handstand” on his broad shoulders while talking to Silver. Sebek would shoo her off and when he does, Strix still pesters him by floating with a mocking haughtiness behind the way she rocks back and forth while grinning mischievously. The sight is hilarious, much to Sebek’s chagrin.

She can see why Lilia likes doing this. By the end of the day though, that’s enough walking on ceilings for the year.

Strix greets Malleus at eye level. “How’d you like it? Not boring, right?”

The horned fae chuckled. The glimmer of accomplishment in her stunning blue eyes amuses him the most. Like a child who proudly boasts their little achievements to appeal to their parents. It was adorable. “Certainly.”

#twisted wonderland #my post #strix noctowl #anon #headcanon asks #diasomnia #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #ignihyde #pomefiore #scarabia #dream eater spirits

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy - the ghost

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

word count: 2044

warnings: none

“Have you seen the new IT guy yet?”

“The uh- what?” Ric was trying to consume a chocolate bar without taking his eyes or hands off the paper he was grading. Y/N sighed patiently – or, rather, to gain some patience. Every time she felt like yelling at Saltzman she took a deep breath and travelled down the memory lane back to the times when he was just a history teacher at school. Back when they were all teens with awkwardly round faces and acne, trying really hard to impress each other, and survive ‘animal attacks’ that just started happening in the town. She recalled thinking the new teacher was actually a vampire. The sheer stupidity of her, while Stefan Salvatore was literally sitting next to her.

Back then, Ric was still youthful, energetic, even handsome, as some girls claimed. Y/N always perceived him as a parent figure, the uncle you may bump into in a bar you go to with your mates to pretend you’re old enough. To think that this grumpy, scruffy grandpa thirty-hundred years old used to be that energetic, bopping teacher they could all trust…

“I’m saying, have-you-met-Mal-yet?”

“Huh?” Ric looked up to her, and his hand inserted the bar into his mouth quickly, so that he could start chewing.

“Are you doing okay, mister Saltzman?”

Y/N called him that when she was trying to be ironic.

“We got a new IT guy? Where the hell is he? I’ve been struggling with this thing for ages”, Alaric pointed at his laptop, safely shut, after it had vomited a siren-like crackling earlier that morning. God only knows what kind of websites Ric has been visiting.

“He’s been in for like, couple of days”.

“Yeah, that’s when the password changed, I saw that”, Saltzman frowned, “that note on the first floor, on the notice board, said that there was a treasure map or crap like this. The whole place has been running on mobile since Monday. Is he toying with us? Who hired him?”

“It’s ‘revenant94’.

“What?”

“The password”.

Y/N settled her coffee mug on the desk and stretched her back, checking the room for people simultaneously. They were alone in the teacher’s space; Y/N liked sneaking in here for lunch breaks or when she just felt overwhelmed, to socialize, bizarrely.

“Anyway, I’ve met him the other day. And he’s weird”.

There it is. The magical spot to hit, to light that hunting spark in Alaric Saltzman’s light green eyes. He has always been an adventurer first and everything else second. Vampire hunting was just a necessary measure in the dire conditions given to him at the point of his life.

“Bad-weird?”

“Weird-weird”, she still wasn’t sure they were completely safe chatting about this in here. She got up and closed the door gently. Then Y/N started pacing lazily between the unevenly placed desks, standing checkers to chess, in a mysterious pattern.

“He looks too good, and he acts too friendly. He is…” she tried to find the word, it was on the tip of her tongue, and yet, it escaped.

“Weird”.

“Your notoriously inaccurate gut feeling once placed an innocent man among monsters”, Ric reminded her.

She recalled that. That one time she was completely sure her neighbor Bruce killed her father, for reasons she wouldn’t be able to awaken anymore. In reality, they still didn’t know who did it, but it wasn’t Bruce as the man was away from the town the night it happened.

“Don ‘t you allow that maybe you think he’s weird because he’s cute? Sometimes you say weird when you mean adorable. Or angry. Or upset. You just generally like labeling people freaks”.

“Okay, you’re not taking it seriously”.

Ric threw himself back in the chair and sighed noisily. He studied the ceiling for some time.

“In our life, Y/N, we have every right to be paranoid about good things. After everything that’s happened every nice thing comes across as a warning. That’s a normal reaction. But if you think he’s off, I’ll check on him, sure. I mean, I will meet him inevitably, right?”

They looked at each other. Y/N shrugged.

 ______________________________________________________________

Ric wasn’t able to get ahold of Mal for the whole of next week, in fact, and it was strange how for the first seven days of Mal’s working Y/N was the only person who’s been talking to him. The guy even complained once that he felt like a ghost, which sparkled the whole new package of fiery theories in her. Then, the next day, she saw Mal chat with the English major student. In a rather flirtatious way, mind you; but it at least proved he was real.

Alaric was left a little puzzled after Mal had fixed his barely breathing laptop; but mostly annoyed.

‘How fast is this guy talking? Does he ever breathe or something?’

To her question, whether he was able to place Mal among any species of supernatural creatures, Saltzman replied something along the lines of yeah, a sickeningly energetic young man with ego, which in his language usually meant abnormal, but not alarming. Y/N was more than sure that Ric gave up on life and just tried to get away from the IT guy as far as possible. What happened to the previous one anyway? Some people said he’d left. Others claimed he just disappeared after Friday’s party at the Craze, a new bar opened almost on the border with Mystic Falls. Nobody really cared. Mal managed to charm just about everybody – that is, when people finally started seeing him – except a few very exhausted individuals who refused to enjoy life.

The feeling Y/N was getting about Mal was inexplicable, good, too good, in fact. She was torn between enthusiastic and careful; one feels that way when a person calls you in the middle of the night and tells you that you have won a billion dollars. How come you don’t remember buying the lottery ticket?

The fact that he had a girlfriend wasn’t all that important – Y/N craved companionship, not romance; her friends were enough but they were all carrying weight of, well, ten years of fighting this damn town. Mal didn’t have all that. He blasted music in the basement where he had built himself a mancave using old boxes and discarded cupboards from the science floors. He always smiled. He was smart. He didn’t take any shit from anybody. And for some uneven reason, he treated Y/N like she was his partner in crime. Maybe that was the most suspicious thing. Y/N always wanted an older brother, and all male figures she chose to act in that character, pushed back.

 _____________________________________________________________

Damon weighed the glass in his hand lazily.

“Caroline’s been livid with you about the dance party?”

Y/N sighed, rubbing her knee. Ever since Caroline graduated, she’s been delegating her tasks to Y/N, who apparently had nothing better to do than organize two celebrations every month. No wonder she completely forgot about the selection of music for that one party that was supposed to happen at the end of the month, vaguely described as a nostalgia flick. Many times Y/N got ready to say, hey, Caroline. I have my own shit to do. If you want these events, come back to the college, get a job and do it yourself. I have tons of crying young adults every day whimpering over their dead dogs and burnt deadlines, and frankly, I deserve four holidays a year.

But she never said it, somehow.

“I am turning into a pusharound”, she realized, as she stood up, walking to the Damon’s sacred alcohol table. She took a glass which burst in a welcoming ringing, and poured herself a little of smelly golden liquid.

“I thought you liked organizing things. Whatever happened to ‘I’ll make them all dance to Stevie Nicks until their butts fall off?”

“It faded, Damon, it went down into my shit storm of a work. I am drained. I’ve been feeling completely lost for the last six months”.

The vampire’s sharp eyebrows made a gracious swing. Every time Damon did his trademark face of an Italian statue Y/N couldn’t help but remember the years when she’d been helplessly in love with him. She and her knee-length socks, and lots of jewellery, and bravery of a suicidal teenager, she thought that was enough to win his love. The disappointment was bitter.

“Why’s that?”

“Eh”, she brushed it off, relaxing deep in the sofa, outstretching her feet, “autumn was nasty, you know that kind of seasonal decline, and then, no snow in winter, and bang, it’s cold spring, and you gotta not eat again because nervous… and it felt like it’s been two days since Matt died, but when I look at the clock, it’s already mid May, and I can’t believe it. I feel like I haven’t processed his death properly, and it’s tugging on me. But I don’t really know what to do at this point. Everybody’s moved on”.

Damon drowned his face into his glass with that preoccupied look he wore when he couldn’t cope with what he started. Sometimes, he could only listen. That was the least he could do for the girl. Listen to her babbling away, and remember that it could have been much worse, she could have been much further away from him.

“Thank God I have my buddy now and I even almost figured out what to do with this shit faced party. No more parties after this one… I’ll tell her I won’t organize stuff people don’t appreciate, I mean…”

“What buddy?” Damon intervened passively.

Y/N jumped up, balancing the glass in her hand, and decided it would be best to down it until she poured it all on Damon’s couch, and he tore all her hair out. She gulped whiskey in two breaths, trying to clench her teeth so that she doesn’t puke it all back. As soon as the drink flows down and reaches whatever cells there are, it will soothe her, and clear her head. She sat on her legs, piercing Damon with a concerned look.

“There’s this new IT guy at Whitmore. He’s too cool to be true, and everybody loves him, except for Ric, and I’m sure you’ll absolutely hate him, too”.

“Why’s that?”

“He’s very chatty and charming, like a complete psychopath. He’s got dead eyes but he’s incredibly funny, and we listen to the same music. He’s always up for anything. He’s too…”

The look on Salvatore’s face said he understood exactly the type of person this guy was. Damon met many a folk like that; take Kol, that idiotic creature that was draining life of every party of people. Or early version of Jeremy, depressed yet too loud, craving attention. Or even Forbes herself; now she’s a friend, but back in the times, she was unbearable. Damon still had vague nightmares in which Caroline was trying to get him to go on a picnic in her usual commanding squeaky voice.

“So, steer his energy in doing this dance for you. And go easy on yourself, little one”.

When Damon called her that, Y/N felt like she was sixteen again, laying at the den of a tiger, if tigers dug caves or, like, very complicated dungeons, with skulls of their enemies scattered and the suggestive fires blazing along the walls. She shivered internally, asking herself, how she had managed to finally escape Damon’s glamor. She remembered being completely heartbroken, and then suddenly, she wasn’t. Good for her.

“Yeah, I’ll get him to help me. But I would be stoked if you could examine him. Ric couldn’t take him, the guy’s too colorful. I have a weird feeling about him”.

“What kind?”

She was tired of shrugging with confusion.

“Just do it. You’ll see. There’s something wrong about him”.

“Do you always hang out with people you deem suspicious?” Damon sounded painfully familiar. Ric and him, they became almost like a married couple over the years. Same old narrative, sung in slightly different tempos.

“Okay”, he gave up. “I’ll come to your nostalgia flick dance thing, and I’ll take a look at him. Will that make you happy?”

She looked at the alcohol sanctuary again.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #damon salvatore #vampire diaries #whitmore guy

[lyrazehedgieboiii]

Coffee Shop

HEY! I usually don’t write fanfics on Tumblr, but now I do! If you happen to follow Lyra_ze_Hedgie on Wattpad, you’ll have to start following me, because I have complications, so I can’t really use Wattpad. Anyways, enjoy the oneshot!

Amy walked up to the cafe with her little sister, Cream. Cream’s friends had asked her to come with her to the coffee shop, but her mother, Vanilla wouldn’t allow her to go alone. Amy offered to take her there, but wouldn’t sit with Cream and her friends. She decided to study some archaeological pieces for work, while drinking some coffee. Amy got in line, and got a frappuccino, and was looking for a seat, but while doing that, she accidently bumped into someone.

    “OH, I’m very sorry-” the stranger started, but Amy interrupted him.

    “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine, really!” Amy checked her outfit to make sure her outfit wasn’t stained. Luckily, nothing was stained. She looked up to see who bumped into her, only to realize that it was a hedgehog, like her. 

    “Sonic! You idiot! You bumped into a pretty girl, and made her drop her coffee! Buy her another frappe, and become her boyfriend, please!” Lyra, the barista yelled at the hedgehog. 

   “Yeesh, Chaos, I swear she gets on my nerves...” Sonic, remembered that the pink hedgie was still staring at him. She seemed to be in a faint daze. Who wouldn’t? Sonic was probably the hottest mobian alive! “Um...I’m sorry I made you drop your coffee. I’ll pay!” The pink hedgehog started to blush. Sonic unconsciously started checking her out. She had cherry pink quills, had sparkling jade eyes, a small smile etched upon her glossy pink lips, and a faint blush on her cheeks. His eyes travelled farther down. She had curves. It was covered by a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, but he could tell she had a nice figure. His eyes aimed for her lower back...

   “Um- Excuse me, sir?” Sonic snapped out of his trance, and he glowed redder than the echidna in the background flirting with a familiar bat. “You really don’t have to-”

   “Nonsense! Besides, my little sister owns the place, so she’ll give you a free cup!” Sonic grinned at Amy. Amy found that she liked this stranger’s smile. “By the way, the name’s Sonic the Hedgehog! And who might you be?” Sonic gave his trademark smile, and asked the petite hedgie her name.

   “Oh! Uh...My name’s Amy Rose.”

   “THE Amy Rose?”

   “Uh...yes?” Amy was confused. How did he know who she was?

   “You might be confused as to why I know who you are. You see, you’re a famous archaeologist. You discovered temples, and can figure out mysteries better than my little bro over there.” Sonic pointed to the fox sitting right next to Cream. “He seems to really like that rabbit. I saw them walking together yesterday.”

     “Oh her? That’s my little sister, Cream.”

      “And I’m Lyra, Sonic’s biological little sister. Here’s your free coffee, courtesy of my bro, because I smell love in the air~” Lyra walked over to Amy, and handed her a strawberry latte.

    “Go away, Lyra. No one wants you here.” Sonic mumbled.

    “May I remind you who owns this cafe, Sonic? ME.” Lyra said to him, she strolled off, giving Amy a wink.

   “Why don’t we sit down? I need to get some work down anyways.” Amy said, and pointed over to a table with two chairs. The couple walked towards the table, and sat down. Amy took some historical documents out, as well as results of tests done for the artifacts. “I’ve been trying to figure out what this relic’s power source is, but just can’t seem to figure it out...” Amy looked up and saw Sonic staring at her. Amy couldn’t help but stare back. Suddenly, something touched her hand. She snapped out of her fantasies, and looked at what had nearly given her a heart attack. It was the papers.

   “Where’d ya find the relic?” Sonic asked. 

   “In Mystic Ruins.”

    “Wait... I’ve heard of a shrine there... it said the artifact ran on something... I forgot what it was called... Chow Rubies?

   “Chaos Emeralds?” Amy said excitingly, seeing where this was going. Sonic snapped his fingers.

   “That’s it! Chaos Emeralds!”

   “There’s only one shrine in Mystic Ruins, and that’s where I found this...you don’t think?..”

   “That the relic runs on Chaos Emeralds?” Sonic did a genuine grin, and Amy’s face lit up with the fact that the handsome hedgehog in front of her had solved what she was trying to figure out for about four months. She jumped out of her seats, and grabbed Sonic’s face, and kissed him. Sonic immediately kissed back, and started using tongue despite this being his first kiss, as well as hers. His hands shot to her waist, and her hands shot to Sonic’s neck. The younger couple across the cafe were watching their older siblings make out, wishing they were like that.

  Amy and Sonic pulled away, and Amy saw the time. She packed her stuff, and told Cream that it was time to go. Before she left the coffee shop, Sonic grabbed her wrist, and said:

  “Same time, tomorrow?” Sonic looked at Amy with lovestruck eyes.

  “Or you could just come to my house. Here’s my address.” Amy handed Sonic a strip of paper with Amy’s number and address. Sonic was smiling like an idiot as he saw Amy wink at him. Tails walked over to Sonic. He waved his hands in front of him. 

  “Welp, he’s in love.” Tails said.

  “He’s not the only one...” Lyra said. Tails looked at her with a confused expression. 

  “What do you mean?” 

   “I see how you look at Cream. Or should I say... Creampuff?” Lyra had a smirk present on her lips. 

   “Run.”

WELL that ended great! At the beginning, I really didn’t have a plot, but as I continued, I knew what it would be. I really hoped you like this, and tell me if you want more.

#sonamy #coffee #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonic oc #cream the rabbit #oneshot #sonamy fanfiction #sonamylove #lyra ze hedgie boiii

[thefanficmonster]

Find Time Or Make Time

Becky Marney (Hidden Agenda 2017) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Having yours or your partner’s job/career hindering you from spending more time together is common which doesn’t make it any less painful for the person who feels like their partner prefers their job over them or simply misses spending time with their significant other. Y/N takes matters into her own hands when Becky is at the precinct two thirds of the day, squeezing in ten minutes at most for her girlfriend.

Requested by Dot Anon. Hi! Thank you so much for sending me your request! I honestly really enjoyed Hidden Agenda and I am so happy I have the chance to write a fanfic about it (especially for my girl Marney <3) Sorry for posting it so late, and thank you for your patience! Hope the fic makes it worth it. Love you lots, Vy ❤ 

Y/N/N - Your nickname

I let out a half frustrated - half relieved sigh as I push open the front door to my apartment, stumbling into the dark hallway. I turn the lamp on instead of the hallway ceiling light in a pointless attempt to remain discreet and not announce my presence. I drop my keys on the dresser next to the lamp, cringing at the sound they make when they hit the wooden surface. I shrug off my trench coat, hanging it up before heading down the hall towards the living room. Approaching the doorway, I notice the faint light of the TV. It’s about 2AM and there’s no reason for that TV to be on - my girlfriend Y/N never leaves anything on before going to sleep and she’s always in bed by 11:30PM, so this is beyond odd. A quick peek into the living room calms me down - Y/N is indeed asleep but on the couch instead of in our bed.

“Y/N. Hey, Y/N/N. Let’s get you to bed, ok?“ I shake her awake gently, watching as her eyelids flutter open.

“Beck? No, no, I’m not sleepy, I swear.“ She rubs her unfocused eyes as she sits upright, “I was waiting for you.“

I frown, kneeling down so I’m eye-level with her, “You never do that. Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head, letting out something alike a scoff, “Nothing’s wrong, Becky. I just wanted to wish my girlfriend a Happy New Year. So...Happy New Year’s.” Her words are a bit slurred due to the exhaustion she is battling in order to speak but they still have the same effect as a slap to the face. 

Oh shit, it’s New Year’s! I completely forgot! In my defense, it’s been so busy at the precinct, none of us remembered what the date December 31st meant. We finally have the real Trapper behind bars and it was time to say goodbye to Finn - who, by the way, seemed like a changed guy when he was leaving the station. Guess five years of awaiting execution will do that to you. - so none of us paid much mind to the holiday being celebrated worldwide. I didn’t even make an attempt to make it home early to be with Y/N and that thought makes me feel absolutely horrible.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I completely forgot about that.“ I run a hand over my face, covering the look of disappointment that I can’t not express. I am indeed very disappointed in myself.

She takes my hand, “Beck, listen. This isn’t about you not being here with me. Not completely at least. It’s about you working your life away. Those people don’t even deserve 1% of you yet you still give them your all. I admire that in you, but sometimes...“ She is literally falling asleep in-between her words, “Sometimes, I feel like I need to save you, you know? Save you from yourself. You are the one who overworks you. You are the one who keeps you at the precinct after hours. You are the person responsible for making you feel like a fucking robot, just working, working and working for days on end. I mean, can you even recall the last time we went out to get dinner or have drinks. Do you remember the last time we did something fun? Yeah, neither do I.“ Her voice keeps getting lower and less courageous - more and more uncertain and insecure. “It doesn’t only seem like you prefer your work over me, it seems to me you prefer it over yourself too. I swear, Tom, Finn and Felicity have been seeing you more than I have these past two weeks. I know for a fact no one is keeping you there. Actually, I believe they’re trying to send you home.“

Her eyelids are getting heavier by the second, but she is determined to get her point across. I turn to search for the remote on the coffee table behind me. Instead, I find a whiskey bottle and a glass next to it, serving as proof as to how Y/N kept herself entertained while completely alone in the apartment. That pang of guilt returns when I turn back to her.

“Take breaks more often, Beck. Please. I hate seeing you like this - you are nothing but a work zombie. You look like one as well, with those bag under your dead eyes.“ She keeps blabbering but now she has a smirk playing on her lips, suggesting she’s provoking me in a teasing matter more than serious.

I roll my eyes dramatically, pushing Y/N who is now laying flat against the couch more towards the back rest so I can make room for myself on the narrow couch “Oh shut up, I look great and you know it.”

She hums, the sounds sounding both approving and skeptical. “You’d look better if you were well rested.”

Seeing that the couch will probably provide us with no comfort for the night, I grab Y/N by the hands and lift her in a sitting position once again, “Ok smatass, we’re going to bed. We’ll sleep in and I’ll call in sick. Tomorrow I’m all yours.”

Her eyes light up, the tiredness having vanished and been replaced by sparkles of excitement. “Yay!” The cheer is a lot less enthusiastic than she probably wanted it to be, but I see how amazed she is with the idea of finally having me all to herself after such a long time.

With minimal help from me, she stands up on her feet, swaying only slightly. She finds the remote among the couch cushions and turns the TV off before stumbling down the hall to our room. I follow close behind her and find her already crashed onto the sheets when I walk in. I throw a blanket over her and shuffle myself under it as well after I change into my pajamas.

“Love you, Beck.“ Her lips brush against my nose for a second, giving me the most sincere type of kiss she ever gives - the nose kiss is her signature kiss.

“Love you too, Y/N/N.“ I kiss her forehead, which is my trademark way of showing affection.

Not even a minute later, she’s gone in the world beyond consciousness. I take a moment to admire her before following her in the land of dreams - one I rarely visit and when I do I don’t stay for too long. But I’ll change that, I’ll change the way I treat her and myself. It’s the least I can do to show how much I love her - at this moment after all. Who knows what the future may hold?

#hidden agenda #hidden #agenda #untildawn #until dawn #hidden agenda becky #becky marney #becky x reader #becky marney x reader #supermassive games #supermassive #the dark pictures #the dark pictures little hope #the dark pictures house of ashes #the dark pictures man of medan #the dark pictures anthology #dark pictures little hope #little hope #dark pictures man of medan #man of medan #video game #video game fanfic #video games #hidden agenda 2017 #x reader #x y/n #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom