#just not sit in class. i have long days of tedious lectures and even thinking about them makes me want to cry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thenigotthisfamily · 2 years

Note

hi!! can you write a fic where nat and yelena have a long day of missions and meetings, and then they just cuddle up together all snuggly? maybe with a tickle fight thrown in to help them relax, or a foot massage/back rub for yelena, who’s throughly exhausted. basically just some soft fluff and comfort after a long and tedious day. thank you!

Loved this request @natasharomanofftheposer!! It's so fun writing soft fluff for these two. Hope you like it!

Word Count: 3,658

“God, how do you do this every day Tasha?” Yelena rubs her temples, trying to chase away a headache that was getting worse by the minute.

Natasha looks sympathetically at her sister, reaching out and rubbing the blonde’s back in comfort.

“I honestly don’t know. It is pretty awful, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm. I’ve had Red Room assignments easier than this. No one told me being a superhero was so tedious.”

Natasha chuckles, massaging Yelena’s scalp to help relieve some of the tension in her sister. The two had spent the entire morning, starting at 7am, at a conference which all Avengers and friends were invited to attend. There were a lot of people there, but there were also many that were busy and did not come like Carol, Strange, Vision, and even Wanda. Yelena was extremely jealous of those people at this moment.

It was the first time everyone had ever been together since fighting Thanos, and Steve and Tony thought it was important to make sure people were introduced to the new members while also discussing new strategies. They had just finished listening to Steve drone one for 2 hours about leadership and teamwork and had finally made it to the midday break.

“Only 6 more hours to go little one.”

“Ughhh. Is this what being in school feels like? I’m so glad I didn’t go to high school.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, thinking about how the Avengers often acted like high schoolers anyway.

“Everyone would have loved you in high school Lena.” Nat kisses Yelena’s forehead fondly.

Despite her exhaustion, Yelena’s eyes shine at that. “You think so?”

Natasha smiles, still baffled at how Yelena didn’t know how many people loved her. “Absolutely little one.”

“Ya well you would be the one at the top of the class that everyone wants to be jealous of but can’t be because you’re too cool.” Yelena mumbles absently as she leans into Natasha’s touch.

Natasha grins, “You think I’m cool Rooskaya?” Yelena looks up quickly, realizing what she had said.

“Bah! Noo.” Yelena denies.

“Hmm okay little one.”

Still seeing the sly grin on her sister’s face, Yelena goes to object some more when she’s interrupted.

“Natasha! How are you?” Thor strides over and sits next to the Black Widow.

Natasha grins at the Asgardian, “Oh you know, Yelena here was just telling me how cool I am.”

“Oh I that so?” Thor grins. Yelena blushes and shakes her head, dismissing the statement.

Thor nods, “I understand young Belova, we all tell lies sometimes to make others feel better.”

The god narrowly dodges a swat from Natasha for the comment and Yelena bursts out laughing.

“You’re lucky you don’t live on earth Odinson, or I’d cut your hair in your sleep.”

Thor gets a started look on his face, “You know I only jest! Anyone that can outsmart my brother on their first go has my permanent respect.” Yelena’s eyes widen, not having heard that story before.

Nat smirks, “Yeah that must be truly impressive to you considering it took you 1500 years to do that.”

Thor sighs, “Maybe you should rule Asgard then.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, she loves her job here too much. You know, where she has to attended awful meetings and lectures every day. Like right now.” Yelena mumbles.

Thor chuckles, “Yeah it is pretty terrible. I don’t envy you Natasha.” He grins and pats Nat on the back before striding away.

Yelena looks at Natasha curiously, leaning against her sister.

“What?”

“You outsmarted Loki?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Natasha says slightly defensively.

“I’m not! I’ve just never heard that story before.”

“Meh, I’m sure you could’ve done the same little one.”

Yelena is about to respond when Steve gets up to start the conference again. Yelena groans as everyone moves back to their seats.

“I heard that, Belova.” Steve points at her.

“Good.”

“Yeah, she’s expressing how we all feel.” Tony chimes in, winking at Yelena.

Steve looks at Nat who shakes her head. “You’re on your own Rogers.”

Steve sighs and begins to address everyone, “Okay so-“

“Mr. Rogers, your presence is urgently required by the United World board. Along with Mr. Stark and Ms. Romanoff.”

Steve glances at Tony and Nat. Friday would only interrupt them for an emergency. The rest of the room tenses, realizing something is wrong.

“Do we need everyone here?” Steve asks Friday.

“I don’t believe so sir.”

“Everyone dismissed!” Steve motions for everyone to leave. Wakandans, former SHIELD members, Guardians, and more quickly head back to check on their respective locations. All secretly glad to be able to leave. Only Thor and those living at the compound were left.

“Friday, on screen.” Tony commands.

The board of the United World appears. “What’s going on?” Steve asks.

“Riots lead by the Flag Smashers all over the country. Most are in D.C.”

Sam and Bucky share a look. “More?”

“Yes, we’re worried about assassination attempts on the council too.”

Steve sighs heavily, “Okay, on our way.”

Tony shakes his head as the screen turns off, “We can’t keep being their guard dogs and peacekeepers.”

“I know, but the Flag Smashers are super soldiers.”

“I think I’ve just about had my fill of those,” Tony says pointedly at Steve.

“Cut it out, let’s go.” Natasha interjects before they can argue further.

“Right, Sam and Buck, you’re with me in D.C. Tony, take Peter and fly to the west coast. Thor, take Clint and go midwest. Nat and Yelena, you got New York. Feel free to call for any available backup along the way.”

“Aye ye captain.” Yelena mock salutes. Steve chooses to ignore her as they all disperse.

Yelena sighs heavily as her and Natasha grab their gear. It was only 1pm but it had already been an extremely long day and was about to get even longer.

“Super soldiers huh?”

Yelena says it casually, but Natasha can hear the slight fear in her sister’s voice. They’d both fought the winter soldier enough to know what that meant. And even though the sisters often sparred with Steve and Bucky, it wasn’t the same as going against a super soldier actually trying to kill you.

Nat sighs and pulls Yelena closer so she can braid the blonde’s hair. “It’s a lesser serum than Steve and Bucky’s.”

“Hmm.” Yelena mumbles, and Nat can tell her sister is already fatigued from the day.

“Little one, you don’t have to go.”

“And leave you all alone? No way.”

Nat shakes her head, knowing that would be Yelena’s answer. The two sisters board the jet without further conversation.

With the speed of Stark’s technology, they land just 20 minutes later in New York City where chaos is already unfolding. There are people running everywhere and the Flag Smashers have destroyed an area of nearly 10 blocks outside one of the United World headquarter buildings.

A national guard officer comes up to them. “Ms. Romanoff. Ms. Belova. We’re glad you’re here.”

Natasha internally smiles as she sees Yelena looking slightly shocked that the guy knew who she was. Nat comments back to the man, “What’s the damage so far?”

“We’ve contained them to these 10 blocks and have been trying to get people out. We can’t stop them though. We’re trying not to use deadly force, but we can’t get close enough to knock them out.”

“How many?”

“4 it looks like.”

Natasha nods, cringing a bit internally. The sisters were some of the best fighters in the world, but they weren’t super soldiers. So being outnumbered 2 to 1 was a daunting task.

“Alright, make sure none escape the perimeter and get everyone else out. We’ll handle the rest.” The man nods and leaves.

“2 each, huh poser?” Yelena loads a stun gun and sets it to the highest setting.

“No, 4 for the both of us. We’re taking them out together.” Natasha insists. She didn’t like the idea of her baby sister facing one alone, never mind two.

“Fine, fine.” Yelena says casually, though secretly relieved she didn’t have to go in alone.

Luckily, it isn’t hard to find the soldiers. The Flag Smashers are causing chaos everywhere. The first one goes down easily, the two sisters hitting her with a round of stun bullets. However, that alerts the other Flag Smashers to the sisters’ presence, and they lose the element of surprise. Yelena’s eyes widen as she sees the other three approach.

Natasha throws a smoke bomb to give more cover and the sisters dive toward the soldiers. Natasha grabs the first one in a hold which allows Yelena to finish him off with the stun gun. But then each sister is grabbed by the final two soldiers and pulled away from each other.

“Tasha!” Yelena screams as she sees her sister take a nasty punch while she’s being pulled away by the other soldier.

“I’m okay Rooskaya,” Natasha grunts over the comms, but Yelena can hear the pain in her sister’s voice.

Yelena then loses sight of the redhead as the soldier tosses her against a car, knocking her earpiece out. She gets up with a groan. The soldier is a woman, about her age. She doesn’t seem evil. And Yelena briefly thinks that maybe if they lived in a world where super serum wasn’t a thing, this girl could have a normal life. The thought quickly vanishes when the woman throws a punch that Yelena barely dodges.

The soldier is fast. Faster than almost anyone she’s ever fought. Except maybe Antonia under mind control and Steve when he got a bit too riled up when sparring one time. While Yelena had survived both of those encounters, she can’t necessarily say she won.

Her thoughts nervously flit to Natasha, hoping her sister was okay and wishing her earpiece hadn’t fallen out. The brief distraction of worry results in Yelena taking a blow to the ribs from the soldier. She groans, but she’s glad to note that none of her ribs broke. Her eyes dart to her stun gun a few meters away, knowing it was her only chance to win.

She looks hard at the woman, “Look, I don’t want to hurt you.”

The woman scoffs, “Hurt me? You haven’t even touched me!”

Yelena uses the brief moment of time to pull her signature move, knocking the solder off her feet and diving for her gun. The solder is up in a flash, but Yelena is just a second faster, hitting her with the stun bullet right before the solder can deliver the final blow. The woman crashes to the ground and Yelena takes a breath of relief before getting up.

“Natasha!” Yelena yells, looking around for her sister. She stumbles around trying to see through the slowly clearly smoke.

“Natasha!” Yelena starts to panic a bit.

“Yelena!”

The blonde breathes a sigh of relief as she sees her sister stumbling toward her, looking like she took a beating but with no major injuries. Natasha crashes into Yelena, enveloping the girl in a tight hug.

“Thank goodness you’re alright little one. I got so worried when you didn’t answer over comms.”

“Sorry,” Yelena mumbles, feeling relief flood her as she returns the embrace. “Earpiece fell out.”

Nat nods, “You get her?”

“Yep.” She doesn’t ask Nat if she got the other soldier, knowing her sister had.

Nat smiles and kisses Yelena’s forehead, “I’m proud of you little one.”

Yelena smiles tiredly when Natasha suddenly yanks her to the ground, right before a missile flies over where they had both been standing. The sisters quickly scramble away, anticipating more shots. Yelena looks back and sees another super soldier, this one a lot bigger than the rest.

“Guess they miscounted.” Nat sighs, her voice heavy with burden.

Yelena looks at her sister and realizes for the first time how tired Natasha looks. Though Yelena had felt exhausted, this whole day was a common occurrence in Natasha’s life since the spy usually had to attend all the meetings and go on the most dangerous missions. She wonders if she should try to convince Nat to retire, at least from the meetings part. She doubts it would work though.

Nat looks at her gun, “I’m out of stun rounds.”

“Same.”

The sisters share a look. They weren’t going to be able to get close enough to the guy with his missile launcher, and even if they did, they probably couldn’t take him out with just their bare hands.

“Come on.” Natasha sprints toward an abandoned motorbike. Yelena hops on behind her as the redhead easily hotwires it. The two speed off as the soldier quickly gets in a car to follow them.

“Friday connect me with the national guard.” Natasha yells in her earpiece.

“Romanoff?” The officer they talked to before answers.

“We’ve got one last guy, we’re gonna drive by and lay him out for you.”

“We only have tanks where you’re headed.”

Nat grits her teeth, she didn’t want to just blow up the guy. “Okay, we’ll handle it.” Natasha breaks the connection with the officer.

“He’s back.” Yelena mutters as the car chases them around the corner, growing increasingly closer. Bullets spray around them from the soldier’s machine gun.

“You got a plan?” Yelena yells. “Please don’t tell me it was just to drive us away.”

Natasha shakes her head as she actively tries to come up with a plan.

Yelena scoffs a bit, “It’s like Budapest all over again.”

“The commentary isn’t helping!” Natasha says in slight aggravation. Nat then winces as loud static echoes in her ear as someone hacks her earpiece feed.

“Hello?”

Natasha’s eyes widen as she hears the new voice over her comm.

“Kate?” Nat asks. Yelena’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She really wishes she hadn’t lost her earpiece.

“Yeah! Do you guys need help?”

“You’re in the city?”

“Yeah, I’m on a roof! I can see you guys on your motorcycle. Nice driving by the way.”

“Thanks, make sure you tell Yelena that too.” Behind Nat, Yelena scowls at being left out of the conversation. “Can you get a clear shot down here Kate?”

“Clint doesn’t call me the world’s greatest archer for nothing.”

“That’s your plan? To have Bishop try to shoot him from hundreds of meters away?” Yelena grumbles in Nat’s ear.

“Shut up!” Nat says in annoyance.

“Who, me?” Kate asks.

“No sorry, Yelena.”

“Ah, makes sense. Tell her I said hi.”

“Kate says hi.”

“Tell her I don’t care.”

“Don’t worry, I heard that, you don’t have to repeat it.” Kate mumbles.

Nat just smirks as the idea comes to her. “Kate, you got anymore Pym arrows?”

Kate grins, “I thought you’d never ask.”

“On my mark, I’ve got to get us just a bit further.” Natasha revs the bike to the fastest it will go to put enough distance between them and soldier.

“Now!”

Kate lets the arrow fly and it grows large as it smashes into the back of the car, causing the soldier to spin out of control and into a building.

Nat quickly turns the bike around and confirms the man is unconscious. “Nice shot Bishop.”

“Thanks! I’ve got to go since I’m technically not supposed to be in the city right now. But glad I could help!”

Natasha says goodbye to Kate and talks with the national guard about taking the soldiers into custody. The sisters then help them double check the area and begin cleanup.

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

It isn’t until after midnight that the two get back to their apartment at the compound. Yelena immediately crashes on the bed with a groan.

Nat smiles, sitting behind Yelena and pulling the girl close to her chest. “You did so good today little one.”

Natasha begins to massage Yelena’s shoulders and back firmly, causing the blonde to make a noise of appreciation as she feels the tension leave her muscles at her sister’s touch. Natasha continues to rub down Yelena’s arms and hands, working out the knots and stiffness of the blows Yelena had absorbed that day. Yelena closes her eyes, wondering how she got so lucky to have Natasha in her life.

When she’s done, Natasha kisses Yelena’s brow softly, “Come on little one, let’s get out of these suits.”

Yelena pouts a bit. “I don’t wanna move.”

Nat chuckles, “I know, but we can’t sleep in our gear Rooskaya.”

“Humph.” Yelena knows Nat is right, but makes no effort to get up.

Nat shakes her head, knowing there was only one way to get the blonde to move now. She quickly digs her fingers into Yelena’s sides, causing the girl to yelp.

“Hey!” Yelena objects in between fits of laughter.

“Come on lazy pants get up!” Natasha continues to tickle Yelena’s neck and ears relentlessly.

“STAHHPP!” Yelena giggles, trying to elbow her sister away, but not shoving too hard, knowing Nat had already take a lot of punches earlier that day.

“Not until you get up!” Natasha grins, tickling her sister’s armpits.

“NOO!” Yelena yells, rolling around the bed in laughter.

“Alright then.” Natasha just moves to tickle her sister’s legs and feet, knowing that was Yelena’s ultimate weakness.

“OKAY OKAY, I’M GETTING UP!” Yelena squeals as Nat’s tickles finally slow and allow for Yelena to pull away, breathless.

Yelena glares back at Natasha, chest heaving. But Nat just grins and tilts her head a bit and Yelena rolls her eyes, unable to even pretend to be mad. She takes off her vest and throws it at her sister’s face with a huff, Natasha catching it easily with a chuckle.

The two sisters get into their pajamas quickly and climb back into bed. Despite still being wary of tickles, Yelena rests her head on Natasha’s chest and throws her arm around the redhead’s waist as Natasha strokes her hair.

Normally Yelena would just let herself fall asleep right there, but she tilts her head up to look at her sister carefully. Natasha raises an eyebrow, “What?’

Yelena shakes her head, reaching up and tracing a fresh bruise that was forming on her sister’s cheek from the events of the day. She leans up and kisses the bruise lightly. She then grabs Natasha’s hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles where new scrapes have formed. Lastly, she tugs Natasha’s shirt up slightly to reveal a nasty bruise on her ribs that Yelena knew Natasha had been trying to hide from her. She leans down and places a gentle kiss on that bruise as well.

When Yelena looks up, she sees her sister has head rested on the wall with her eyes closed, looking truly relaxed for the first time all day. Natasha slowly opens her eyes and presses her nose to Yelena’s. “Thank you little one.”

Yelena nods, still looking deeply at the redhead.

“What?” Natasha repeats.

Yelena sighs, “You do this every day.”

“What? Tickle you until you get up? I suppose that’s true.” Nat grins.

Yelena scoffs, “No. Attend long tedious meetings and then still go on long dangerous missions right after. Or train other Avengers the rest of the day.”

“I don’t do that every day.”

“But you do it a lot!”

Nat sighs, “It’s my job little one.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Yelena mumbles. Natasha raises an eyebrow at that and leans forward to look directly in Yelena’s eyes, searching for some underlying meaning in the statement.

“Do you want me to quit Lena? If you do, I will.” Nat doesn’t even think twice about the words.

Yelena shakes her head quickly, though feels her chest fill with warmth that Natasha would leave her life as an Avenger at the drop of a hat if Yelena asked.

“No, I just want you to take care of yourself.” Yelena mutters, running her hand soothingly over a cut on Nat’s chin. “It’s an exhausting way to live.”

Nat sighs and nods, “I know, I’ve just never really known any different, you know? Except in Ohio.”

Yelena nods in understanding. In the Red Room, their entire lives were ordered to the exact minute. There was never relaxation or time for oneself. So it was hard to adjust away from that.

“I know. And I know Stark and Spangly need you. God knows they’d tear this place apart without you.” Yelena leans up and kisses Nat’s temple, unknowingly helping relieve tension Natasha had been feeling in her head all day. “But I want to make sure you’re okay too.”

Natasha’s throat clenches at the sincerity of her sister’s words. Even though Yelena had been in her life a while now, she still was sometimes so shocked that there was someone else out there that truly cared for her unconditionally.

The redhead pulls Yelena closer by the back of the neck, pressing a kiss to Yelena’s nose. The younger sister just hums in appreciation at the contact.

“Friday, tell Tony and Steve I’m taking the next few days off. Don’t know when I’ll be back. But things should be settled down now.”

“Of course Ms. Romanoff.”

Yelena’s eyes shine as she grins at her sister. She buries her head in Natasha’s neck as a sign of her gratefulness.

“And Friday, tell them if they do anything stupid while I’m gone, I’m forcing them to go ice fishing with Alexei in St. Petersburg.” Nat adds.

Yelena bursts into laughter at that.

“Yes Ms. Romanoff.” Yelena can almost hear a tinge of amusement in Friday’s voice.

Nat grins at her sister and shifts them so that they are both lying down in the bed. “So what do you want to do for the next few days little one?”

Yelena pretends to think before burying her head back into Natasha’s shirt. “Only two things. Snuggle and sleep.”

Nat chuckles, wrapping her arms around Yelena. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, letting the pain and tension of the day wash away with her sister’s touch.

“Sounds like a plan.”

#yelena and natasha #yelena belova #natasha and yelena #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #kate bishop

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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centuries of violent cultivation have left their mark on the nie bloodline in some rather obvious ways. this is half the reason nhs hides behind a fan: it’s a lot easier to get away with being lazy when people aren’t regularly reminded of his fangs whenever he smiles.

unofficially part of Tigers

Nie Huaisang was wailing again.

“It’s not that bad,” Nie Mingjue said helplessly. “You’ll grow into them.”

Nie Huaisang shook his head furiously, clutching at his mouth. “Dun wan fangs!”

“The whole family has them –”

“Dun care!”

“They’re at least good for eating, aren’t they –”

“Nuh-uh!”

“It’s just a little lisp –”

Another wail.

Meng Yao wasn’t entirely sure of what to make of his newest duties.

It was a sign of trust, he knew that much, and that was good – it meant his plan to make himself irreplaceable to the Sect Leader was working, and his position would be all the more unshakable. The Nie sect might be seen as brutish and crude in Lanling, but their power was unquestionable, and he needed any backing he could get.

(When he made the plan, he hadn’t really cared much about who the Sect Leader he’d need to entice was, but he found to his surprise, and a little annoyance, that despite himself he actually rather liked Nie Mingjue, who was everything righteous cultivators usually pretended to be. It was almost a pity that Meng Yao already knew his life’s ambition, and that Nie Mingjue could never be more than a stepping-stone on his way.)

But still, it was a puzzle – Meng Yao knew that Nie Mingjue was a man who despised all manner of vanity and disdained the need for personal attendants, preferring to take care of himself whenever possible. So why would he feel the need to ask for help in something as mundane as trimming his nails?

“They’re getting too long again,” Nie Mingjue said, offering up a grinding stone, of all things; he looked resigned. “Do your best – I won’t hold it against you if you can’t do it.”

Meng Yao was confused until he realized that Nie Mingjue’s fingernails had were long and slightly hooked, like claws, and hard as bone – a clipper would be useless, and he’d need something of Baxia’s heft if he wanted to try cutting them with a knife. The only way to get them under control was to slowly dull the edge with the grindstone, wearing them down to a manageable length.

(It was tedious, but Nie Mingjue made up for it with conversation about the sect, the war, important things – years later, Jin Guangyao would sit at his father’s side, looking down at the frivolous assignments he was forced to take on, and think enviously back to those days.)

Lan Xichen knocked on Nie Huaisang’s door. “Nie-gongzi?” he called lightly. “I saw that you missed classes both yesterday and today – are you all right?”

There was no response at first, which made him wonder if Nie Huaisang really had snuck out or something – it didn’t seem likely. Nie Huaisang was a poor student, to be sure, and a daydreamer, but he was generally good at coming to the lectures even if he didn’t retain much of it. Probably worried that his older brother would break his legs if he didn’t at least pretend to be studious most of the time.

Missing two days of class, therefore, was unprecedented.

“Nie-gongzi?”

Maybe he was sick? But if so, he should go to visit the healers, not simply linger in his room – unless it was truly serious.

Lan Xichen was considering breaking down the door when he finally heard movement from the other side.

“Thank you for your concern, Lan-gongzi,” Nie Huaisang said through the door. He sounded mournful, but not especially unwell. “I’m just having a bit of an embarrassing personal issue that will pass in a few days. No need to worry yourself.”

Lan Xichen raised his eyebrows. He lowered his voice conspiratorially the way he knew Nie Huaisang liked. “If I promise not to tell anyone, will you tell me what the issue is?”

“…I’m shedding.”

Everyone at the Wen indoctrination camp tried to keep a low profile, even people like Wei Wuxian who weren’t very successful at it. They all knew why they were there, serving as hostages against their clans, and no one wanted to give the Wens an excuse – but that didn’t meant they weren’t angry in their hearts, wishing quietly that someone would do something to show some backbone.

Wei Wuxian did the most, but he was brave and reckless that way.

No one was expecting anything like that from Nie Huaisang, which was probably why they were all so stunned when the matter with the teacups happened.

It had started innocently: Nie Huaisang had moved his hand too quickly, and his teacup had fallen off the table. Wen Chao had scoffed and rolled his eyes, waving his hand to have a servant replace it.

It’d fallen off the table a second time not long after.

“How incompetent can you be?” Wen Chao sneered, waving his hand again. “I’d heard you were good-for-nothing, the disgrace of the Nie sect, but really –”

As he was talking, Nie Huaisang met his eyes calmly and reached out to place his finger on the edge of the newly provided teacup.

He pushed it right to the edge of the table.

Wen Chao stared. “You had better not –”

Another push, and the teacup was on the floor again.

“Oops,” Nie Huaisang said.

Wen Chao looked as though he was considering strangling him, but then someone (Wei Wuxian, probably) started applauding before it was quickly muffled, and Wen Chao’s rage quickly got redirected.

“I’m afraid the sect leader is occupied today,” the guard at the door said.

Jin Guangyao rolled his eyes. “You do remember I used to live here, right? A sunny day like this – he’s on the roof, isn’t he?”

The guard looked amused, which was all the confirmation he needed. “Do I have to fly up, or will you let me use the stairs?”

Jin Guangyao didn’t bother rushing up the stairs. It was a little after noon, when the rays of the sun were the hottest: the Nie clansmen could invariably be found draped over something, basking in the light.

Sure enough, Nie Mingjue was on the roof, sprawled out on his back with his eyes half-closed with pleasure, and Nie Huaisang lolled around on his belly nearby, painting something. A handful of cousins were there too, although not too close to the main family’s chosen territory towards the west corner – Jin Guangyao had never figured out if there was a reason they picked this corner rather than the center that would be more fitting to their status, or if they were just being contrary. Again.

There wasn’t any point in trying to get Nie Mingjue’s attention for business purposes right now.

Luckily, for once, that wasn’t his goal – he’d just had a sudden overwhelming need to get out of Lanling, and Jin Guangshan was easily fooled into thinking Nie Mingjue had imperiously demanded his sworn brother’s presence on virtually no notice.

“Da-ge,” he started, selecting one of his pre-fabricated rationales, “I –”

Before he could finish, Nie Mingjue tugged him down to the ground. “Excuses later,” he growled, eyes still mostly closed. “Nap now.”

Yes, Meng Yao thought. This was fine.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

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s4ijoh · 3 years

Text

the theory of love. matsukawa issei

MATSUKAWA ISSEI X GN! READER

GENRE: soulmate au; (implicit) college au; fluff; crack-ish?

WORD COUNT: 2.2k+

WARNINGS: (minor mention of) nudity

in which you have a beauty mark in each eyelid…

what an odd place to kiss someone for the first time.

you wonder. all different types of sweet yet awkward scenarios on how this meeting with your soulmate would play out begin to surface — more precisely, on how this first kiss with them would play out. out of all places...

why would they kiss your eyelids?

these are certainly not the answers you should be looking to answer during class, you reckon, yet, betrayed by your own inner voice who, against your own will decides to take the reins of your mind, you find yourself drifting away from reality and diving deep into your own head, swimming in thoughts of soulbound lovers and silly first kisses.

a giggle threatens to slip past your lips yet it dies in your throat before it has the chance to escape. it is hard to know when to stop the train of thought before it derails and, as always, the same old question comes back to haunt you.

what is taking them so long?

the question could be worse, you reckon, much worse. when you were just a child, barely old enough to understand the theory regarding love and soulmates, you remember hearing these frightening stories about people who were deemed loveless. they were bound to spend their entire lifetime wandering the face of earth in an infinite yet fruitless quest to find their other half. how cruel, you mused, for the universe to deprive someone of love.

you also recall, at the age of twelve, now old enough to decipher those were not just some bedtime tales, feeling terrified upon the realization that you could be one of the so called loveless ones. were you? although it’s not exactly one of your most treasured memories, it is still fairly vivid in the back of your head — your eyes urgently roaming every inch of skin on your body in a desperate attempt to dismiss that possibility, only for the answer to be mockingly hidden out of your sight.

for the longest time, your pitiful self dwelled on the reality that you weren’t worthy of love only for your faith to be restored when recently, whilst doing your make up, you found the two tiniest, barely perceptible dots laying on each of your eyelids, the symbol of hope itself adorning your skin — the evidence that you were not alone in this world and that some deity from above had blessed you with someone to share your love with.

although in retrospect, the scenario turned out to be a lot more optimistic than what you had first expected and for that you should be thrilled, with each passing day, the hollow in your chest grows darker as you have spent the last six years yearning for the day you’ll cross paths with your soulmate.

your heart longs for its missing piece and unfortunately there is no map to lead you to it.

what if you only meet them by the time you’re too old, too tired to have any love left to give?

it certainly gets lonely when you’re left dealing with the hole on your heart meanwhile everyone around you seems to have found their other half by now. just today, yet another girl in your friend group found her perfect match — or so she thinks, its easy to mistake some random boy for your soulmate when your beauty mark is located on your cheek.

at least you can rely on the fact that the placement of your beauty marks doesn’t leave much room for mistake, thats a given. maybe you weren’t that unfortunate, after all.

“movie night at my place tonight?” you tilt your head up to be met with issei’s figure towering over you. as you slowly bounce back to reality, you shift your eyes to the clock ticking on the wall. you figure you were too lost in thought to hear the lecturer call it a wrap.

“makki’s out of town so you can crash in his bed”

you met issei and takahiro at the beginning of this semester and it turned out that there was more to the two quiet laid back dudes who always sat in the back of the class than what first meets the eye. the chronic bored expressions they wear on their faces at all times are quite deceptive for they are anything but tedious and just happen to be quite easygoing and match your level of sarcasm. the three of you clicked almost instantly. movie nights on friday were a regular but a sleepover? now, that's a first.

(mainly because, besides the two beds on their shared room who were almost a size too small to fit their gigantic limbs, the next best surface on their apartment to sleep on would be the floor itself.)

“just admit that you’re afraid to sleep alone in your room, issei” you begin to gather your things but not without taking a peek at him through the corner of your eye to check the look of amusement growing on his face.

issei keeps his collected demeanor, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance while smiling down at you in a relaxed manner “if you start snoring the same way you always do halfway into a movie, it might actually be scarier to sleep in the same room with you”

you scoff at his merciless comeback although unamused. you knew better than to expect him to give in to your teasing remarks without a fight

“it’s always the guys who can’t even afford a couch who think they’re funny, huh?”

to be fair, you were aware they had just moved in together at the beginning of this semester and the house decor was still a work in progress.

he lets out a lighthearted laugh at your comeback, accepting his defeat and you follow suit, smiling brightly and softening your features “you’re lucky we don’t have one or else you’d be sleeping there tonight”

issei pats your head softly before he adjusts the strap of the backpack hanging off his shoulder and begins to walk away, turning on his heel when he is a few steps away from you, remembering he has to let you know the details for tonight.

when he turns his back on you and disappears into the distance a smile creeps its way into your lips almost instinctively. (what a lost cause. look at you so oblivious to how your heartbeat seems to echo a little louder inside your ribcage or how your heart rate seems to increase it’s tempo whenever you are around issei. you're not a naive little child anymore; you should’ve understood the theory of how love works by now.)

some days on campus are busier than others and you have learned it's easier to daydream your way through boring lectures and classes for time seems to go by faster yet there is no better way to unwind than to spend a friday night on the comfort of issei’s and makki’s tiny cozy apartment watching lame cartoon movies in the tiny screen of a computer. it’s part of your routine now and you find it's also easier to go through an intense week of work when you have these weekly movie sessions with them (him) to look forward to.

issei walks through the door and into the room, grabbing a blanket out of makki’s bed before taking a seat next to you on his bed so you can share the bowl of sweet and salty popcorn he just popped in the microwave. you notice his feet peeking from under the blanket at the end of the bed whereas he's busy searching for a movie to watch on the computer that’s sitting on his lap — you make a mental note to gift him a bigger blanket on christmas since it is just around the corner.

you manage to convince issei to watch the grinch “to get into the christmas spirit” however, as soon as he presses play, your thoughts start drifting away. it has recently come to your knowledge that issei, just like you, still hasn’t found his soulmate — although he seems to be handling the situation a lot more smoothly than you. ever since the day you became aware of it, there’s this question that has been persistently lingering in the back of your head yet you have been hesitating to ask. you are unsure whether it is too early in your friendship to put your nose into more intimate affairs but then you remember it’s just issei, the worst he could do would be to mock you for your nosiness.

“issei,” he hums in acknowledgment while munching on the small pile of popcorn on the palm of his hand with his eyes still glued to the screen. “where is your beauty mark?”

the inquisitive look on your face morphs into one of confusion when he takes a glance at you with mischief gleaming in his eyes. why is he smirking? he pauses the movie, tilting his head back to shove the handful of popcorn into his mouth and placing the computer on the mattress before he stands up, your frown only intensifying upon the sight of him undoing his belt.

“issei!” you exclaim through a fit of laughter at the realization that he just pulled his pants down to reveal his bare ass to your once expectant eyes, your expression contorting to one of terror as you screw your eyes wide shut at his inadequate (yet all too familiar) antics. and here you stood thinking you had predicted what the worst case scenario could possibly be.

the wicked chuckle that erupts from his chest echoes through the dark room and you can hear him fastening his belt back on signaling it is safe for you to stop hiding behind your hands (not before you sneak a peek through your fingers though, just to make sure.)

“my soulmate will have to kiss my ass so I know they’re the real deal” the bed dips as he slumps, in a slouchy manner, on the mattress next to you, taking a glance to notice your eyes widening when he hears the gasp of disbelief that escapes your lips following his words.

“its a joke. you would’ve known that if you had looked” he chuckles still talking in that nonchalant tone of his whilst putting the movie back on.

“yeah. i figured, asshole.” you try to play it cool, brushing off the sound of your heart palpitating furiously against your chest.

half way into the movie and a bowl of sweet and salty popcorn later, your head starts to feel heavy on issei’s shoulder. he glances down at you only for his suspicions to be proven right — you have fallen asleep; just like he knew you would. he takes notice of the way you scrunch up your face, wrinkles starting to form in the corner of your eyes as you force them shut. the brightness of the screen is probably bothering you.

whilst issei wouldn’t trade his sweet bed for the world, given your tired state (and clearly out of courtesy), he can’t find it in him to disturb you so he decides to let you crash in his bed, he will take makki’s for the night.

“‘m going to turn this off” he closes the computer shut while whispering the words in a weary voice as drowsiness has creeped it’s way into his system as well.

“mhm, night” you yawn weakly while lifting your head from his shoulder with your eyes still closed as you manage to give him a clumsy goodnight kiss that lands on his ear before you move to a lying position and pull the blankets over your body, falling into a quiet slumber almost instantly.

his eyes widen in surprise.

did you just kiss him?

during the span of your friendship, neither of you have been the affectionate type sticking to a few sporadic hugs, which were rare nonetheless, yet he is not opposed to this new display of affection. he figures you must get clingier when you’re tired and it might have slipped out of impulse. now that he notices, this is the first time he remembers you kissing him and there is this foreign feeling flaring in the pit of his stomach at the possibility you might kiss him again. he lifts his weight out of bed and suddenly he’s paralized staring at the empty wall ahead of him. wait...

did you just kiss him… on his ear?

the world stops. his feet, although hesitant, are moving on their own as he feels a sudden magnetic pull to you and finds himself gravitating towards your sleeping figure lying on his bed. he crouches down next to you, silently admiring your features with mellow eyes and although his heart is a bit unsteady in his chest, he is overtaken with an inexplicable sense of tranquility. his heart can rest now, you finally found him.

that night you could’ve sworn you felt his lips lingering on your eyelids.

[a/n]: ayooo, just to let you all know that i finally made a google docs where you can sign up for my general taglist (even tho i post like once every two months but its wtvrrrrr, its wtvrr)

the amount of times i started writing this fic and deleted everything just to start all over again because i hated every single word of it… I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING NICE FOR MATTSUN !!1!!!😡 but ngl it was kinda worth the time because im sorta proud of it!

this is the v v v first time im writing for him, hopefully the characterization isnt off… n hopefully you enjoy!!!! ;)))

#matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines

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sorryimanon · 4 years

Text

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 1

Summary: You’re bit of a hot head, so is Bakugou. So what happens when the two of you have to quarantine together for 30 days?

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, sexual tension, inevitable smut, slow burn.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader

Spring finally makes it way to the city of Musutafu, which also means spring break is about to commence. There was only two days left of school before the students endure a week break of relaxation and the possibility of illegal drinking. However, the sudden outbreak of a deadly virus isolates you and your best friend of five years , Katsuki Bakugou, to quarantine together. Tensions are high, and so are both of your sex drive.

<<<

It was your second semester here at Hero University, and so far everything was smooth sailing. You’ve been on top of each of your classes, and most of your classmates are pretty much family by now. Of course, no one can replace Kirishima and Katsuki. Those two have been in your life since the second you stepped into Aziwa’s classroom. 5 years of friendship gave them the role of being your protective brothers. Every guy you’ve dated over the past 3 years had to face the wrath of both Kirishima and Katsuki. In most cases, some would find this possessiveness tedious, but you found it quite comforting knowing they are looking out for you. They were also hard on you and your studies, but only because they care for you. Both of them know about your dream of being a combat medic for pro-heroes, considering your energy restoration quirk, so they were extra tough on you.

However, everything came to a halt the day before spring break. You were currently in Advanced Hero History class when the announcement happened. The teacher, mid lecture, put her textbook down and glanced at the speaker above the door.

“Testing...1 2 3... this thing is working right? AHEM, attention students of Hero University, we’ve been told there’s recently been a sudden outbreak of a virus that’s described as deadly as the plaque!” The speakers voice reverberated across the whole academy. He continued,” We want to make sure that everyone is safe and sound and takes precaution of this virus. The board of admissions at HU have decided to cancel classes and all events at the university tomorrow-”

You didn’t get to hear the rest of the announcement. Everyone in the classroom was busy celebrating and screaming at the top of their lungs. Seems like the issue with the deadly virus evaporated immediately. The thought of getting out early for spring break was more important apparently.

Ms.Leech informed the class to still read the assigned chapters and be ready for a test the first day after break.

You quickly shoved everything your messenger bag and made a beeline to the door. The hallways were far from deserted. Usually classes don’t get out at the same time, but today every student occupied the cramped halls in the building.

“Y/N!” Someone yelled amidst the crowd of loud students. You overtly looked around and spotted the all too familiar spiky red hair and angry looking blonde by the exit. You giggled and maneuvered your way over to them.

“Did you hear the announcement! We get an early spring break!” Kirishima giddily said as you guys all walked side by side on the strip to the apartment complex.

“No shit Sherlock, the announcement was broadcasted across the whole school.” Bakugou responded while rolling his eyes.

“I’m so excited though! That means I have more time to study for my exams!” You jumped with excitement.

“Exams? That’s not for awhile you fucking nerd-” Bakugou was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his hair and aggressively pulled it. “YOU SHITTY WOMAN DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!”

Spring break flashed by quickly, leaving only a day left before classes begin again. Thankfully, you seem to have checked everything off your list of things needed to be accomplished during break. The only thing you had left to do was finish your reading for adv.hero history.

After an endless hour of reading, you decided to make a hot pot of coffee. When you walked into the kitchen of your shared apartment with Kirishima and Katsuki, you noticed a sticky note hanging from the fridge.

It read,

Went to go pick up Kirishima from the airport. Get take out plz. The usual

-B.

You smiled and immediately dialed the noodle shop to go. Kirishima used his spring break wisely and went to visit an exotic island with his family. He would FaceTime you and Bakugo occasionally telling funny stories about his time on the island. Although the thought never occurred at the time, you now felt like you wasted your spring break doing boring mundane things. Yes you had Katsuki to accompany you, but he was gone most of the time hanging out with his other friends. Which hurt, granted, but you understand that he has other friends besides you. Needless to say, you didn’t do that much “relaxation” during spring break.

Suddenly, your phone started going off on the countertop. Katsuki’s name flashing on the screen. Confused, you answered his call anyway, not thinking much of it.

“Y/N turn on the news now,” His said with urgency.

You didn’t argue back, knowing something is off, and raced to the living room. The tv was already on, so you just changed the channels till it reached the local news station. With the volume at its maximum, you sat still and listened to the news anchor.

“This just in, Japan has issued a nationwide lockdown due to the spread of the deadly virus. We’ve been told to report for all citizens to please stay in your homes till further notice. And as for anyone who has left the country, you’ll be permitted to stay within the country you’ve flown to and wait till further instructions...”

Oh shit

“Hey hey guys don’t worry I’ll be fine. I mean, isn’t this great news! We don’t have to go to our scheduled classes till further notice! Plus, I think I can score my shot with the maid here at my hotel for the time being,” Kirishima gloated with pure positivity.

“Baka. You do realize there’s a fucking virus going around right? Not to mention there’s a possibility you could die from it.” Bakugou said, trying to throw some common sense at Kiri.

“Right right right. Yes I do know...but that’s not going to stop me from getting laid bro.”

That was one of the few FaceTime calls you got from Kiri. After the third, he stopped calling all together. You grew worrisome for your best friend. Even though he doesn’t show it, Bakugou was worried sick not hearing from Kiri either.

It’s been 5 days since the initial lockdown. So far, you and Bakugou have been doing each of your usual routines at home. First thing in the morning you always prepared breakfast and read a few chapters from your current book. Bakugo did laundry duty and did the dishes after breakfast. Afternoon was just recreational duties. Both you and Bakugou would reside in your rooms doing whatever to ease off the bordem. Evenings were mainly for eating dinner and watching movies.

However, after 10 days, you couldn’t keep up with the routine anymore. You skipped breakfast and didn’t dare to open up another book. Your bedroom became a reminder on how much you’ve spent cooped up in there. Not to mention how easily angered you’ve become.

One day you got angry at how Bakugou was chewing his food. Usually it never irritated you, but now the sight just made your blood boil.

“Who the fuck taught you how to eat?” You spat abruptly.

“Says the person who forgets to clean the tub after they shave their whole entire jungle of a body,” he retored back.

A faint gasp left your mouth, uaware that you completely forgot to clean the tub last night after your feminine duties.

“Don’t know who you’re trying to look presentable for. It’s not like you got a boyfriend, not with all that hair, tch.” he hit you with one last punch to the gut.

You got up from where you were sitting at and begrudgingly walked to your bedroom, locking it in the process. Not daring to leave your room, you open your laptop and started a movie without Bakugou.

Out of all days, day 15 by far was the worst. The air conditioner unit stopped working, causing y’all to wake up with drenched bodies. Your room especially was humid, since you had no access to a window. The colored coordinated folders from your book bag had to suffice, using them as makeshift fans. Eventually your arms grew tired of constantly doing the same motion repeatedly, so you finally left your room in hopes for the living room to be much cooler.

You stopped immediately when you caught a glimpse of Bakugou slumped on the L-shaped couch. Not to mention, he was shirtless as well. Heat flushed to your cheeks, making you glow a crimson red. You couldn’t stop staring at the view in front of you. Yes you’ve seen Bakugou shirtless before. Countless of times in fact. The boys would practically walk naked around the apartment, not caring about how you’d react. You were deemed as one of the guys.

But this time it triggered something within you. Something you haven’t quite felt in a long time. Maybe it was the quarantine getting to your head, but you couldn’t help but to wonder how it would feel to be flushed against his naked chest right now. Or if he was the type to snake his hands around your waist and pull you even closer. The thought excited you for a second, but quickly realized this was Katsuki you were thinking about.

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably in his spot, eliciting a whimper during the process. The noise alone made your lower stomach tense with a warm sensation. This was creepy. Watching Bakugou shirtless while sleeping would surly make him go ballistic, but the sight of sweat glistening on his abdomen made his abs more prominent. An image of you being underneath him kept flashing in your head like picture show. A crude and undeniably satisfying picture show. More explicit thoughts kept trying to barge into your brain. So, you ran back into your room and planted yourself headfirst on the floor. Hopefully these thoughts will go away by tomorrow

The thoughts never went away. In fact, they were the reason you didn’t get any sleep last night. A half naked Bakugou Katsuki kept interrupting your innocent dreams, filling them in with dirty scenarios involving the both of you. You knew you were fucked once you heard the faint sound of Katsukis footsteps in the kitchen. You’ve been up all night, with no pure dream in mind. There’s no saving your sleep schedule now. Maybe if you apologize to Katsuki for acting irrational the other day, the thoughts would go away.

Defeated, you got up from your comfortable bed and treaded into unsafe territory. There sat Bakugo, criss cross on the kitchen island eating cereal. It wasn’t an unusual sight, he was the embodiment of a fucking cat.

“Morning shit head,” you playfully teased.

Bakugou raised his head and looked expectingly at you.

Even just looking him dead in the eye raised the temperature throughout your body. This is going to be a nightmare.

“You alright Y/N? Your whole face is flushed...” He paused, eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re not sick are you? If so, I’m kicking you out. I don’t wanna fucking die because of you”.

How charming.

You scratched the back of your neck. “Uh no Katsuki, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My behavior towards you was unacceptable. This whole quarantine thing has really made me-”

“Shut up. No need to apologize for some stupid quarrel we got into. Besides, we’ve gotten into worse arguments right?”

You nodded your head, agreeing to how truthful his statement was. It was true. 5 years of friendship and not one time have you guys stopped being friends because of a heated argument.

“Exactly, don’t sweat about it. I’m just glad you finally came out of your hole. I missed my movie buddy.” He gave you a lopsided grin, to which on cue, your stomach tied itself into a knot.

“Great, because I found a movie last night on my queue that I think you’d like” You beamed as you started making yourself a bowl cereal. Katsuki grunted as a response and leaped off from the island.

You were too busy focusing on making the cereal that you didn’t hear the faint thump of footsteps behind you. Then, almost as some sort of harsh punishment, Katsuki rested his head between your right shoulder blade. He hummed once he felt your body tense up. His lips were merely inches away from your outer ear. Any other movement from him and you wouldn’t hesitate to throw the gallon of milk at his head. But what he said next caused your whole face to turn pallid.

“Also, its kind of rude to watch someone sleeping don't cha think?” he whispered before throwing his bowl into the sink beside you.

At that moment you knew, you were completely fucked.

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki x you #katsuki smut #bnha bakugou #bnha fanfiction #bakugo imagine #bnha fic #kacchan #ao3 bakugou #bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you

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americas-golden-boy · 3 years

Text

Worth a Thousand Words

Summary: “Steve Rogers, every inch of his All-American glory, was looking at her expectantly with that same boyishly mischievous expression he had been sporting the few times she had seen him up close. One that really shouldn't blend in so easily with the rest of him but was an integral part of his persona, or at least that's what she gathered from the bits and pieces of conversations about him she'd been subjected to hearing.

Because that was definitely what she had predicted, and definitely made all the sense in the world.”

AKA Steve has never talked to the woman that sits in the front row of his lecture hall twice a week but that doesn't stop his hopeless crush on her.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 3,159

She was being watched.

She had absolutely no proof other than a gut feeling, but the sensation of eyes on the back of her head burnt with a heat strong enough to brand her, and more than once has the skin of her arms and neck prickled uncomfortably with goosebumps despite the surprisingly warm temperatures of late fall.

It made her feel silly, really, and more than a little narcissistic, to think that anyone would invest time in watching her. She couldn't even write it off as the uncomfortable leering that she had been victim to on a couple of occasions she had gone off-campus at night.

No, it was the most random of times, in the most obscure places, always busy enough that she could never pin down the source of her unusual company when she chanced a scan of the area.

It's a Thursday night, and after three weeks of enduring this cat and mouse game she's found herself in, she's strongly considering just going up to each person in the common room when she feels the sensation tickle its way down the nape of her neck again.

Before she got the chance to weigh all the pros and cons of embarrassing herself, the cat made itself known.

By sitting right across from her at the otherwise empty table.

Startled by the sudden presence in front of her, her eyes snap up from the book they'd been buried in, the hand which had been steadily dictating her notes pausing in the middle of a line as her train of thought came to an abrupt stop.

Sharing her space with unfamiliar company was not an uncommon occurrence, for her or any of the other people that frequented the open areas available to students at all hours of the day, but at a little past 11 P.M., there were few people spread out across the expansive room, and even fewer reasons for anyone to sit so close.

She found herself being thankful for carpeted floors as the man abruptly pulled the chair out, spinning it around and sliding forward to straddle it all in one movement, draping his crossed arms across the back with a practiced sort of elegance that did not quite match the situation or his size.

And his size was, frankly, quite hard to ignore.

Her immediate response was to be intimidated by the broad expanse of solid chest and wide shoulders that made the chair look almost uncomfortably small as the muscles in his arms strained under the stretched material of his shirt—really it was almost another layer of skin, as tight as it was—to prop his chin on an open palm.

But then she met his eyes and—

Oh, she thought dumbly.

Steve Rogers, every inch of his All-American glory, was looking at her expectantly with that same boyishly mischievous expression he had been sporting the few times she had seen him up close. One that really shouldn't blend in so easily with the rest of him but was an integral part of his persona, or at least that's what she gathered from the bits and pieces of conversations about him she'd been subjected to hearing.

Because that was definitely what she had predicted, and definitely made all the sense in the world.

With the way his smirk grew, she had a feeling he was perfectly aware of the confusion he was causing in her.

Perfectly justified confusion, she reminds herself before any misplaced guilt can creep up on her, considering they had never interacted properly.

In fact, as she tried racking her brain for any reason he would have for approaching her, she came up with exactly zero. Possibly one, if he was trying to bum notes off of her for the lecture they shared two days a week.

Not that he made a habit of doing that to people, as far as she knew anyway, but she wouldn't put it past him to use his charm and prestige for his own benefit.

As unfair as she knew it was to him, her expectations of the widely popular were subpar at best, and considering his reputation stretched far enough that even she recognized him, he certainly fit into that category.

Seemingly satisfied that he had her full attention, he reached out the hand that he had been leaning on, smirk stretching out into a full smile, laugh lines pulling on his cheeks matching the soft crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

He really is handsome. It's almost unfair.

"(Y/N), right?" He said by way of greeting, breaking the near silence of the room with ringing clarity even with the low level of his voice.

The fact that he knew who she was added a fresh layer of bewilderment to the mix, and she couldn’t even begin to sort through the possible implications of him possessing that information.

Looking between his hand and his face, she placed her pen down and took it in her own, just a moment shy of an awkward pause before nodding.

His grip on her hand was confident but gentle, shaking it once before letting her retract it back into the safety of her lap, leaning on the top of his chair with crossed arms once again.

"I'm Steve, it's nice to meet you."

Of course, she already knows that, but isn't sure if admitting it would be awkward or a boost to his ego, and since neither one really sounded like a good option, so she opted for another weak nod of acknowledgment and a half-smile.

If her lack of response was odd to him, he did a good job of hiding it, face still as open and unfaltering as the moment he sat down.

"So, I admit, this is...odd. I'm sorry for disturbing your study session, I just haven't had a good chance to talk to you before or after class and I saw you while I was cutting through on my way to my friend's dorm so..." he trailed off with a soft huff of a laugh, eyebrows faintly pinching together with the slight tilt of his head.

He wanted to talk to me? She repeated to herself. He doesn't seem angry, so I probably didn't upset him unintentionally. Not that I would have had a chance to, I don't think I've ever even sat by him before.

There was a long string of questions that she'd like to unload on him but with the way his smile was starting to falter she decided to put them both out of their misery and settle for one to start.

Flipping the notebook laid out in front of her to a blank page she wrote as quickly as she dared, aiming for both speed and legibility, knowing from experience that her nerves can reduce her handwriting to chicken scratch if she wasn't careful.

Are you the person who has been following me?

She lifted the note for him to see, watching his eyes flick across the line before his eyebrows shot towards his hairline, wide eyes meeting hers as his hands rose to wave almost frantically in front of him.

"No!" He exclaimed, the sudden volume of his voice drawing a wince from the both of them as she glanced at the only two other students in the room, who had both paused to look over at their table.

Steve's head dipped in an apologetic nod in their direction before turning his attention back to her.

"No, I wasn't following you," he started, voice much quieter but not lacking any of the conviction of his initial outburst. "I promise, I really haven't been, I just—we have a class together, and we live in the same building. The campus is only so big, so I, uh, I see you around sometimes," he rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes dropping from hers briefly in a moment of sheepishness that was a stark difference from his usual self-assured bravado.

"Honestly I didn't think you would have noticed, and I'm really sorry, but my friends, they uh—" he continued on, his words beginning to come out in a rush of air— "when I mentioned wanting to talk to you they took it upon themselves to tell me if they saw you around. Trying to help me find an opportunity I guess. I would have made them stop sooner if I had known it was making you uncomfortable," he reassured quickly, taking note of her baffled expression.

All she could do was stare, eyes flittering around his face in an attempt to find a tell that he was lying. When she found none, she was honestly relieved, not just because he didn't seem to have any malicious intent, but also because she now had confirmation that she wasn't crazy.

Now that I know I'm not just paranoid, what is it you needed to talk to me about?

She flipped the notebook around once again, watching as he hesitantly turned his attention to it, his fear of a negative reaction clear as day across his face. It was endearing, really.

"I just wanted to—actually, if you don't mind me asking first, why are you writing your responses? I feel like I need to get my own pen out, breaking the quiet all on my own."

The question wasn't an unexpected one and she was frankly surprised it had taken him as long as it did to ask. That didn't stop the uncomfortable pang in her chest that usually came with that line of questioning. While it wasn’t necessarily uncommon for her to use a pen and paper to communicate, the select group of people that wanted to converse with her had more efficient ways.

I can’t speak. Most people don't know ASL, and I thought a text-to-speech app might be too awkward if you weren’t expecting it. Sorry.

And she was, really. While she knew it wasn't her fault, she also knew how tedious a transition process it could be for someone who had never held a conversation with her before to adjust to the pacing. Some people just weren't patient enough, or it made them feel awkward.

He read the note, and then reread it, and then read it once again. He gently worried at his bottom lip, releasing it as he opened his mouth, only to shut it once again as his lips pinched together.

He seemed to finally decide on what to say, straightening his shoulders a bit and clasping his hands together.

"So, you're...mute? Is that the correct term to use?" He asked , articulating his question slowly while watching her face.

She found the corners of her lips quirking up at his concern of possibly offending her. That alone was already more than she got out of similar exchanges.

I personally don’t mind it much, but it’s normally frowned upon. Non-speaking is your best bet.

She slid over the notebook, trying to gauge his reaction for a hint of how the rest of this conversation is going to go, if he didn’t simply excuse himself to avoid a situation that he most definitely did not predict or ask for.

And then felt like she would have tipped straight over from the way he beamed at her, if not for already being securely supported in her seat.

There has to be something wrong with him, she found herself thinking.

"Okay. I’m glad I didn’t offend you, thank you for telling me. I honestly don't know much about what to do to make this easier for you—" was he pouting now?— "would yes or no questions be better? I don't want to make you write a lot if you don't want to. Or...would you like me to leave?" By the time he reaches the end of his ramble, his nerves had obviously caught up to his mouth, head dipping and jerking his thumb in the general direction of the door leading to the outdoor walkway.

If anyone else had asked her that, she would have assumed it was asked as a chance for an out, a polite way to say, "I think it would be best if I left, are you going to let me?" But with the way he prefaced it so naturally with eager attempts at maintaining and extending their time together in a way that benefits her, she couldn’t find it in herself to immediately presume the worst.

In fact, the entire situation was so absolutely bizarre and random and Steve is staring at her with this disarmingly charming expression looking like he is about five seconds away from bolting for the door, and she just can’t help it.

She laughs.

~~~~~

She’s laughing.

Or at least that’s what he’s assuming, with the way her head tips back and the warm flush across the bridge of her nose spreads to her cheeks as she smiles. They’ve been in the same lecture and dorm for months and he’s not sure if he’s ever seen her face light up quite like that.

The sounds that push their way past her lips are short and clipped, raspy in a way that suggests disuse but warm enough to be melodic despite their discordant nature.

Just as suddenly as she started, she stops. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she snaps her head back down to look at him with wide eyes before quickly checking across the room where the last students had been sitting previously, shoulders slumping with obvious relief to find the seats empty.

For a moment he truly feels ashamed, because as wary as she seemed to be about the sound, he’s already dying to hear it again.

The hand that had been resting over her mouth moved to her brows, tilting down enough to hide her eyes from his view but not the harsh scarlett that was crawling across her visible skin, from the tips of her ears to the base of her throat. If he wasn’t feeling ashamed before, he certainly is when he has to cut off the burst of curiosity that cuts across his mind wondering how far the flush could go.

Shaking his head like it will physically remove the risqué thought, he reaches one hand forward to softly tap the table near her notebook.

“You okay under there? I’m not quite sure what I said, but there’s no one else in here but you and me.”

He feels like he’s done something very wrong and he’s not even sure where to begin to backtrack as he combs over his last statement.

She thinks you’re an idiot, you probably managed to offend her.

He really, really hopes that isn’t the case though, because he’s been trying to build up the courage to talk to her properly for months and while he’s become a bit better about socializing since he got back from the army, he’s still absolutely hopeless with women, something that Bucky likes to remind him of frequently.

The second Natasha found out why her attempts at getting him to go on blind dates were being shut down so quickly, she was absolutely ruthless in her ribbing, as harmless as it may have been.

Before he can fully consider standing to leave, she’s dropping her hand to her pen, meeting his eyes with a slight pull at the corner of her lips before leaning down to write.

Waiting for her to finish writing is the most nerve-wracking thing he can remember going through in recent memory, and the soft thump of his heel against the carpet is almost as fast as his heartbeat by the time the action even registers and he forces his leg to still.

Coming to a stop almost halfway down the page, her pen rests against the paper for a beat before she hastily caps it with a firm nod and pushes the notebook onto his half of the table.

This might be the most thorough rejection I’ve ever faced, he thinks sardonically, spinning the notebook around.

Then he reads the first line, and his head shoots up to look at her. He must look a bit ridiculous, if the growing smile on her face is anything to go by.

She gestures with a wave of her hand towards the notebook and he clears his throat with an awkward chuckle as he looks back down at the paper.

I would really like it if you didn’t leave. I’m sorry for laughing, but you’re just so nice I was surprised. I would be lying if I said I didn’t already know who you are, but I just didn’t expect you to be interested. This whole situation is very random but I think that’s the first time I’ve laughed out loud in a long time. I understand if you change your mind, or if I’m overstepping, but if it’s not too forward, I think I’d like to talk to you too. Maybe when it’s not the middle of the night.

~~~~~

As soon as she slid the notebook across the table she itched to grab it back. She nipped at the tip of her thumb between her teeth to fight the urge, pulling her other arm to curl around her stomach.

What if I misunderstood what he was trying to tell me? He seemed so nice but maybe he’ll regret it now that he’s actually been around me a bit. When was the last time you even went on a date? Oh god, he’s already reading it, maybe I—

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

She’s abruptly pulled out of her spiraling doubts so fast she gets mental whiplash, and she focuses back on him as she considers if she misheard.

He’s beaming at her again, the corner of his eyes crinkling and one side pulling on his cheek just slightly higher than the other, the same boyish charm from earlier peeking its way through. He tilted his head as he leaned in towards her, and the cage holding her butterflies was absolutely demolished, sending her heart fluttering at a pace that’s almost painful.

The question finally caught up to her at his expectant look, and with a shake of her head, he let out a satisfied hum and smacks the table lightly with both hands before reaching to grab the pen, scribbling down a hasty addition to the bottom of the page before putting both items back in her space.

Pushing himself to stand, he spun the chair back into its original position before addressing her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow (Y/N),” he said with a wink, walking backwards a few steps before turning and making his way out of the doors.

She stared at his retreating back with a small smile that only grew as she peered down at his note.

Steve

XXX - XXX- XXXX

Text me when you’re free, hopefully I’ll have enough time to learn to greet you properly next time.

#steve rogers #steve #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america fanfiction #marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #avengers imgagine #avengers fanfiction #fluff #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #college au

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allthingshetalia · 4 years

Note

the rusger poly trio was adorable! maybe we could get ludwig and ivan becoming a little protective/ jealous of their s/o?

You waited impatiently for your professor to finish his lecture. He seemed to move as slow as the time as he explained the causes and effects of the fall of the Roman Empire. Having been in school for almost all your life you were hearing all of this information for the millionth time, the only difference being your professor using big words.

“You will work in partners! I know that’s something we usually don’t do but there is a lot to cover.” His voice drilled into your ear and you cringed, slouching forward in your seat slightly. “I think it will benefit you all greatly!” He looked around the room like we would all be excited.

A small gap on your shoulder, caused you to turn in your seat.

“Wanna be partners?” Adam asked. He was a good guy. You two went to high school together and you even had a small crush on him freshman year. You realized that you had no friends in the large class and decided he was better than nothing. You quickly nodded your head.

“That would be nice.” You smiled politely. You turned back in your seat just as your professor was wrapping up.

“How about we work on it at my dorm?” Adam asked. The thought of that made you a little uncomfortable.

“How about we go to my apartment?.” You didn’t bother to mention that it was your boyfriend’s and that boyfriend would be plural. People were judgy and the last thing you wanted was to be labeled a slut or something. His smile faltered a little bit but he nodded his head.

“Sounds great!” He threw his bookbag over his shoulder. “I have football practice tomorrow so we have to get a majority of it done today.” He said as both of you walked down the halls.

“I’m not afraid of putting in some extra time.” You jokes, nudging him with your elbow. You two walked and chattered ever so often. You finally made your way to the apartment and you quickly pressed a button to be buzzed up. The front door of the building quickly opened, as both Ivan and Ludwig knew you would be getting home very soon.

As soon as you opened the door Ivan was the first one to greet you. You quickly shot him a look and he stopped his plans of embracing you, confused, until he saw an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair behind you.

“Ivan this is Adam.” You smiled. “Adam this is Ivan.” Hearing you introduce someone Ludwig quickly darted out of his office to analyze. The dogs rushed to the door to greet you, but Berlitz growled lowly in his throat. You shushed him and he sat down and rested against Ludwig. “And this is Ludwig. Ludwig This is Adam.” You stepped out of the doorway so they could see him. Adam gulped as he saw the two unreasonable large men.

“So which one of you is the boyfriend?” Adam chuckled nervously.

“Yes.” You responded, not giving either of them a chance to speak up. Ivan held back a chuckle, as he stepped out of the entryway, pushing Ludwig along with him. You walked into the large apartment and took your backpack off sitting down on the couch.

“I’m sorry, which one?” Adam inquired. You ingnored him and motioned for him to sit next to you.

“We need to work on a project for history.” You smiled at the two large blondes who were still continuing their inspection.

“Rome?” Ludwig asked, somehow always up to date on your school work. You nodded your head and took out your history binder. “If you need help ask us.” He pressed. He nodded his head and both him and Ivan went back into Ludwigs office. They kept the door open so they would have a clear view of you.

“Okay so I was thinking I could do foreign invaders and you can do expansion.” You smiled, looking over at Adam. His caramel eyes were trained on the dogs who were staring at him intensely. “They’re harmless, but they are protective.” You assured. Your fingers went out and scratched the back of Asters ear.

He sighed in relief and nodded his head in agreement. “Sound good.”

It had been about 2 hours and you were already over this project. You were hungry and you swore you caught glimpses of Ivan and Ludwig cuddling on the couch in Luddys office. From time to time one of their head would peak out the door or they would walk past you to the kitchen watching you closely.

“This is so tedious and boring.” You groaned, falling back against the back board of the couch. You wanted nothing more than to be in the middle of a cuddle fest with your boyfriends. Adam nodded his head in agreement, his hand rubbing at his eyes. “I’m gonna get a snack. You want anything? More water?” You asked, stretching. Adam watched as your shirt rode up a little.

“I am a little hungry.” He said hesitantly. You shot him a smile and pranced to the kitchen grabbing some granola bars and fruit snacks.

“You’re aren’t allergic to nuts right?” You asked, handing him some food. He shook his head and thanked you before digging into the granola bar. “You’ve gotten a lot done so far!” You encouraged looking at all the slides he had done in the presentation. “I really hope he isn’t going to make us present these!” You shuddered.

“That would be the worst, wouldn’t it? Having to listen to people talk about the same thing over and over.” You both laughed lightly. “But you’re pretty so I’m sure you could hold people attention.” He said in a quieter tone. It wasn’t quiet enough considering you saw Ludwigs head shot out of the doorway. Adam didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s very sweet. But I don’t think anyone is attractive enough to hold anyone’s attention about this.” You giggled. You sent Ludwig a soft smile, that went unnoticed by Adam.

“Well you’re close.” Adam whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of your eye. His fingers lingered on your cheek before Berlitz barked loudly causing both of you to jump. The large German Shepard bared his sharp teeth.

“Berlie.” You hushed, using his nickname. He stopped showing his teeth but hopped in on the couch resting himself between you and Adam.

“Ummm.” Adam stuttered nervously backing away form the dog. “I thought you said the dogs were nice!” He raised his voice at you. You were about to respond when Ludwigs voice boomed through the apartment.

“As long as you don’t touch Y/N!” You heard Ivan gasp and he quickly appeared in the doorway right behind Ludwig.

“I didn’t!” Adam assured. You gave him a ‘wtf’ look before groaning.

“I think it would be best if you left.” Ivan stated. Ludwig nodded his head in agreement, both of them glaring daggers at the man.

“What about our project?” Adam whispered, turning to you.

“We both of access to the google slide, we can work on it together but separately.” You offered him a small gentle smile. He quickly nodded his head and collected his things.

“Good Boy!” Ludwig praised, digging treats out of the kitchen cabinet and throwing them to Berlitz who caught them.

“I feel bad! He was probably so scared!” You sighed. You tiredly held your arms up and were quickly scooped up in Ivan’s arms. You nuzzeled your way into his shoulder and wrapped your legs around his waist, vaguely aware as he carried you to the bedroom.

“Good he should have been scared. Who does he think he is? Coming here and touching you! Even after you told him you had a boyfriend.” Ludwig spat. They both knew you only told a select few people you were in a poly relationship. It didn’t bother either of them because you didn’t try to hide them, you just didn’t talk about it. Ivan flopped down on the bed his back sinking into the mattress as you were resting on his chest. Ludwig joined both of you and moved so he was laying on his side, his head resting on Ivan shoulder and his forehead pressed against yours.

“I know, but I still feel bad. It would be scary having dogs bark at you.” You yawned. “He’s probably never going to talk to me again.” You mused.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Ivan smirked. You rolled your eyes and Ludwig hummed agreement.

“And you two were watching us almost the whole time!”

“Well Ja! What do you expect us to just go about our day like there isn’t some strange boy in our livingroom?” Ludwig questioned.

“With our girlfriend.” Ivan added. “I don’t trust anyone with you, little one. I mean he was obviously scared of me and Lud when he walked in but he still chose to press his luck with you.” Ivan hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re Right.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids grow heavier by the minute.

“Take a nap. You can finish your project later.” Ludwig smiled watching as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

“Learning is Hard.” You mumbled just before you drifted off to sleep. Both of the men chuckled and held you tighter.

#allthingshetalia #hetalia #hetalia blog #hetalia imagine blog #x reader #hetalia imagines #germany x reader #germany hetalia #aphgermany #russia hetalia #aph russia #russia x reader #gerus #rusger #germany x reader x russia

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berrykookie · 4 years

Text

You Belong With Me

Genre: Fluff | ANGST ANGST | Implied smut | Friends with Benefits Word Count: 13k Pairing: Jimin x Reader

“Oh fuck...” Jimin panted beside you, holding onto his chest, “I don’t think I can go to the next class.”

“Shut up and get dressed!” You laughed at him, smacking his arm lightly before getting up and collecting your own clothes.

“Does it get better with time?” Jimin looked at you while you glided your arms down the sleeves of your sweater and pulled it over your head. Only when you looked at him did you realise that he was genuinely curious.

“Stop asking stupid questions and get dressed, Jimin!” you gave him a look before pulling up your jeans and throwing his shirt and trousers at him.

“No! I really want to know...” he whined like a baby and you were beyond amazed at how this man was dominating you mere minutes ago while you were begging him to slow down a bit.

“Well...if you really feel that way then maybe...” you raised your shoulders along with your brows in an all-knowing manner and Jimin instantly caught on what you meant and he was quick with his reply.

“Oh please, Y/N! It’s not because you have a ‘fiery hot pussy’!” he mimicked your voice from when you had said it before he got up from the bed and started putting on his clothes.

“Yeah, Yeah, whatever!” you mocked him as you walked to your table to collect your hostel room keys while Jimin collected your bags. You took yours from him before opening the door and peering out of it to see if anyone was outside. When you were sure that the corridors were clear of any other students, you motioned him forward to warn him before he left:

“Walk straight to the class. If you stop anywhere in the way then you’ll see, Park Jimin!” you whispered to him firmly to which he let out a quiet snort before sneaking out of your hostel. You waited for a few moments before you yourself walked out and locked your door – preparing yourself for another hour filled with torture.

There was no rule that said Jimin wasn’t allowed in the hostel, but you still had to be sure – for you didn’t know what you’d say if someone ever asked you. After all, Jimin wasn’t your boyfriend.

You took your seat beside him seconds before the lecture began and Jimin instantly began with his antics that you despised the most. His leg brushed against yours, knees touching as a wave of nervousness crawled up your spine.

“Stop it!” you hissed quietly.

“Why?” he pouted.

“Because people can see!” you retorted.

“So what?” he smirked as his hand grazed lightly up your thigh, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“So...” you struggled to find your words for a moment, scenes from minutes ago flashing before your eyes and clouding your mind. “So they’ll know, and they can’t and they shouldn’t!” You let out in one breath before you slapped his hand away. Jimin chuckled playfully before finally settling slightly away from you. Oh what a little tease he was!

Jimin and you had been best friends for almost a year now. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that you could agree to something like this or that this day would come. You weren’t sure if you were doing the right thing, but you knew you couldn’t go back now. It had started two months ago, when Jimin had accidentally sent you a picture of his hardened cock which was actually meant to be sent to the girl he was sexting with.

He had apologised repeatedly, telling you that it was an honest mistake and you had accepted it for what he said it was. But you weren’t expecting what came next. A series of texts were exchanged between you and him post the incident where – Jimin being Jimin – asked you if you liked what you saw. Those words were enough to reduce you to a hot, sweaty and blushing teenage girl who later thanked all the gods that Jimin wasn’t there to witness it.

That was when Jimin came to know that you were a virgin, and that you’d never seen a real cock. ‘We have been best friends for a year and I didn’t know this about you!’ He had exclaimed in the most surprised tone ever.

Jimin never stopped teasing you in college after that, asking you if you’d like him to come and accompany you to your room after college when one day he finally suggested that he could help you. You vividly remember how you thought it was one ridiculous offer no matter how tempting it might have sounded until the hour you found yourself underneath him. You were locked in your room as Jimin breathed heavily above you as you urged him to move once you thought you’d be okay.

The two of you had obviously decided that it was going to be a one-time thing and nobody was ever going to know. But it never ends at that, does it? It happened again, for the second time, and then the third time and it wasn’t long before you lost count as you basked in your newly found bliss while Jimin finally found someone he felt comfortable with.

You both had had a very clear understanding that none of you were ready to take things further than that, for you didn’t feel that way for each other to say the least. And that left you to be one thing but anything else – friends with benefits.

This wasn’t the relationship you had thought you’d share with Jimin. You and Jimin both cherished your friendship but since you started playing around none of you could really control the desire once it started burning. The mere idea of it would have made you to cringe if you’d heard it before any of this happened...but that’s exactly where you stood.

“Hey, Y/N?” The sound of your name being called had you blinking your eyes quite a few times before you became fully awake. Sleeping through the lectures was one thing you couldn’t stop doing and that’s why Jimin hated you the most when you dragged him to sit beside you. He was too conscious to not pay attention in class and you were careless enough to snore beside him with no care in the whole damned world.

“Yeah?” You turned around to face Yuki, the transfer student who lived in the room next to yours.

“What’s going on?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“What do you mean?” You had zero clue of what she was talking about, but that did not last very long.

“You know, you...and Jimin?” she asked with excitement in her eyes while yours widened to look like two huge saucers that one couldn’t ignore.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” You could feel the sweat drip down your back as anxiety seeped into your bones. Had she seen something? Or maybe heard you both when you carelessly let pleasure take over you?

“I saw him leaving your room before this lecture,” she filled you in and you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Oh...” you breathed out in relief, “he just came over to collect some notes.” You lied with some ease this time; thanks to all the other instances where you had to cook up a story so fast your head would spin.

“Ah...really?” she teased you further.

“Yes Yuki, obviously. You know Jimin and I are best friends.” Who also have sex now, you sighed internally. Yuki seemed to have believed you for then she just winked at you and went back to doodle on her notebook. You turned your head to Jimin who was listening with concentration, slightly envious at the fact that everybody came to you when they thought something was fishy. Nobody ever had the courage to go and question him.

—

“Oh thank god,” you mumbled when the dull class finally ended. If it had not been for you being short of attendance, there was no way you would have wasted an hour of your precious time on this tedious uneventful lecture.

“Let’s go!” Jimin chimed as he packed up all his stuff.

“Where?” you questioned.

“To your room,” he said as if it was the most stupid thing he had to answer to.

“Are you serious?” you scoffed at him before turning around to pack your own stuff.

“Why what’s the matter?” Jimin whined.

“Have you not had enough for today?” you scolded him lightly, making sure not to come off too rude or too loud.

“What – there’s a limit?”

“Well...there should be. Twice a week – only!” you declared, swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“What – Y/N no!” Jimin almost screamed as he followed you with hurried steps. “You can’t do this!” he pouted.

“I have to! We decided that it was going to be a one-time thing. I admit that I’m no goody two shoes either but we’ve got to slow down, okay? It’s already a little complicated and I don’t want this to ruin anything between us.” Your voice came out soft as you tried to make him understand. And being the person Jimin was, he was able to make out what you meant as he gave you an eye blinding smile before enveloping you in his embrace.

“Yeah I’m sorry. You’re right – this isn’t just anything. There’s actually a lot at stake.” He gave your figure one last squeeze before letting go and flashing his teeth. “See you tomorrow, then?”

You nodded as you mirrored his smile, glad that you could talk to him about anything and everything and that he understood without being a whiny baby. This was what you were scared of losing.

Jimin wasn’t just any friend to you. When you first joined college around a year ago, you were very conscious about everything you said and everything you did. Jimin had peeled off the layers you had around you one at a time instead of just trying to barge in. The comfort level you shared with him was something you had never experienced before. He could, somehow, make you talk about whatever bothered you – something that you’d always had a hard time with. He could tell when something was wrong just by looking at you, and there was nobody that could calm your nerves like he did when you felt too anxious about something. There was no way you were ready to lose this.

—

The next week went by smoothly and Jimin did not make any advances – even playfully – towards you. He totally respected what you had said the other day and you couldn’t be happier.

It was like any other day after college when Jimin had decided to stay a little longer with you since it was the weekend. The two day a week rule had put both of you through a tough time in the past few days. You had not seen Jimin this eager to fuck in the previous months as he was at the moment – while you were in no better state than him, to speak the truth.

Your clothes were on the floor with your bags in no time as the two of you kissed hungrily. You walked to the bed, never breaking the kiss before Jimin pushed on the mattress and you fell with a bounce with Jimin on top of you. There were hands roaming around each other’s bodies while your mouths explored all the curves and corners like it was the first time.

Jimin was quick to his feet to pull out a condom from his bag while you waited for him to just come back to bed and fuck you into oblivion. You had no idea how much you were craving for this until the moment his lips locked with yours. You cursed the stupid rule you had made just because you were scared people would find out. All this was too good to be sacrificed for such a futile reason. You made a mental note to tell him that you had stricken off the two times a week thing when you were done as Jimin rolled the condom down onto his length.

He wasted no time in climbing back on top of you as he started to ease himself in. You bit your lip from the feeling of him stretching you out without any preparation as Jimin hissed lightly to himself. He dipped his head down to kiss you and started with slow thrusts.

Jimin had barely picked up the pace when his phone started to ring. You looked at him but he showed no expressions that said he cared about the phone call. He continued to move inside you as the ringing finally died in the background. But it did not stop at that. It started ringing again and without a doubt both you and he could feel the energy between you starting to die out. And to make it worse – it felt awkward.

Every time before this when you and Jimin had sex, the two of you were way too engrossed in the feeling of pleasure to feel anything else. And there was never any time to spare after you were done, for it was always between classes.

But this time, as the pleasure started to die out because of the much unwelcomed interruption, you could feel how weird it was to have sex with your best friend. Blood rushed to your cheeks from where it was supposed to be as you averted your eyes from him.

Jimin pulled out of you with an apologetic look, leaving you to sigh at the emptiness and frustration that took over you. He walked wherever he had thrown his bag on the floor. You picked up your bed cover from the nearby chair, not really wanting to be naked in front of him anymore.

“Fuck!” Jimin cursed as soon as he looked at his phone, his hands flying to clutch a handful of his hair in his tight grasp.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” you asked immediately, worried about what was wrong.

“I’m sorry but I’ve got to go Y/N,” he said as he nearly ran to pick up his shirt and jeans. “How could I forget! I had a date with Sarah!”

What?

It was like everything stopped in its place for a good long minute. Your breath was stuck in your throat as you let the information seep in. To say that his words came like a blow of a full speed truck towards you would be a total understatement. Jimin had told you that he had a date with the said girl two days ago. And it had felt like a jab to your chest for a second but you had quickly brushed the feeling away. But – Oh! You had no clue that it would come to mock you in the face like this. Being left behind when you were in the middle of sex for another person was worst of the worst things that could happen to you.

“See you later?” Jimin shot a quick goodbye at you and left in a rush, just like that.

You were left there naked with nothing but your covers around you as you made efforts to breathe. Your mouth ran dry and there was nothing on your mind. You felt...betrayed? But were you supposed to? Should you?

When you and Jimin started having just sex, you knew it would be weird. But now you were cursing yourself for never giving two thoughts to what would happen to your dating lives. You knew you didn’t want to date but what about Jimin? How could you leave out such a vital thing? And most importantly – what were you supposed to do now? It was not like Jimin couldn’t date anyone, then why did it feel like he had wronged you?

You swallowed the lump in your throat and got out of bed to get dressed. ‘It’s nothing big, Y/N, it’ll go away’, you tried to calm yourself as you pulled out a fresh set of clothes. This – what you and Jimin had – was casual. It was not supposed to mean anything. So you decided that it would be best to just forget it and never talk about it again, like it never happened, like it didn’t make you feel anything. ‘You are just feeling that way in the moment’, you told yourself as you tried to believe your own words; ‘He is allowed to go out. He doesn’t belong to you.’

—

You did not hear from Jimin until the next afternoon. He texted you with an apology and went on to tell you how perfectly amazing Sarah was. It was something he always did - texting you after every date to tell you how good or bad it was. But it felt different this time.

A part of you didn’t want to know about his fucking date at all, for it was the very reason he had left you like that, like it didn’t mean anything. Yes, you two were best friends with benefits but that did not give him the right to take it for granted.

You bit you lip harshly while you talked to him like you usually did. How could he not spare two minutes to ask you how you felt? Did it matter so little to him? Or, what if, it mattered more to you than it should?

Your thoughts were complicating the situation further. You didn’t know what you were feeling or where you stood in your own two eyes let alone his. It was getting difficult to sort out your emotions for there were so many running through you presently. You wanted to be happy for him for that’s what a friend would do but you were feeling betrayed instead; you wanted to be normal with him, but you couldn’t.

What was all this?

—

You were eagerly waiting for the college to open for the weekend had seemed to stretch for way too long. You had little to do and a lot on your mind. Every time you tried to balance the two, you failed. Everything had suddenly become very incomprehensible; your thoughts; your feelings; your emotions.

When you finally saw Jimin on Monday, the incident that took place two days ago was long forgotten; or at least he certainly had no memory of it from where you saw it. He just talked about Sarah and it irritated you to no end.

“Y/N, have you ever met someone that you just click with? She is exactly like that!” he had exclaimed as he held you by the shoulders, his mind clearly over occupied with her to see anything else.

“That’s good to know.” Your voice came out quieter than you had expected. But it didn’t make a difference. And it marked the first time where Jimin couldn’t spot that you weren’t yourself.

It broke you a little from the inside as realisation dawned upon you – there was nothing wrong with Jimin; it was you who was feeling too much. Maybe mixing friendship with sex wasn’t a good idea, after all. You just wished you could undo it.

The next couple weeks that passed made you feel even more distant with him. It’s not like he didn’t spend time with you, but when he did, you couldn’t stop thinking about the time Jimin was spending with Sarah. You thought about what they did or talked about, or if Jimin ever mentioned you in front of her. Why in the world had you brought this upon yourself?

On the other hand, Jimin and you continued with your sex life as usual. But you did not need any rules now, for you did not get the chance to deny him anymore. It had started to feel like you saw less of him, and when you did it ended up with you in bed with him. To say that the thought of him only ever coming to have sex did not cross your mind even once would be a white lie.

There were times when you thought Jimin did not want you in his life anymore, or that the only thing he wanted out of you was sex. You also wondered what he thought about you – ‘does he think I’m just an easy person to get into bed with?’ you thought once with tears in your eyes; ‘what does he think of me now, that I would give myself away to anyone?’ Questions like these never stopped haunting you but you knew in your heart that this wasn’t true.

Jimin would never ever think like that especially about you. These were all but figments of your own over imagination but how were you supposed to stop? You did not know how to make yourself believe that his attention was not divided, or he did not think of you as a low life, or that he did not want you in his life for just sex for that matter.

Your mind was in frenzy and you could nearly see yourself going crazy as you sat on the floor of your room, beginning to feel the waves of anxiety crashing upon you. You tried to calmly focus and remind yourself that it was Jimin that you were talking about, but to no avail. You were far too gone to see things for what they were.

But you had successfully decoded one thing from all the mess – your worst fear had come to life:

You did not see Jimin as just a friend anymore.

—

“Hey are you okay?” Jimin asked you one day when you sat beside him doodling something on the back of your text book.

“Hm? Yeah I’m fine,” you replied, never looking up at him.

“Are you sure? You don’t even sleep through the lectures anymore,” he chuckled lightly and you could cry over the fact that Jimin knew you like the back of his hand. You cursed the hormones that had blinded you the day you decided to have sex with him. You cursed that day and that bloody hour that had ruined the one thing you held so close to your heart.

“Yes I’m sure.” You managed to say with a tiny smile, not wanting to answer any more questions.

“Okay!” He chimed.

There were a few minutes of silence before he spoke to you again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you...”

“Hm?”

“Sarah wants to meet you.” His words had you snapping your head in his direction, taking him a little by surprise. In that moment, you wanted nothing but to rip off your arms and throw them at that bitch – who you held responsible for everything, somehow.

“I’ve been telling her about you and I didn’t even realise that you two haven’t met until she said it,” he paused to look at you and you immediately turned your eyes away. This was too much...all this was too much take. You could feel your heart in your throat as you tried to swallow it away.

“Ah, I see,” you mumbled.

“Mhm...so how about today during the break?” he wiggled an eyebrow at you and you let out a forced giggle.

“That’d be great!” you said as you licked your lips that had suddenly gone dry.

Your heart was beating frantically at the thought of seeing them together. You couldn’t be alone with them, no! That would be nothing but the end of you.

Yuki!

Yes, Yuki. She was the closest person to you after Jimin and she wouldn’t say no. You could ask her to come with you, and that way you would be able to excuse yourself, too. You were just thinking everything through when your eyes went to your watch. It was almost time to break.

As soon as the teacher left, Jimin got up, a big smile plastered across his face and it had butterflies fluttering inside you. It made you wonder when it actually started to happen; when his presence had you feeling nervous and when his gaze made your heart thump against your rib cage. Was it something new or had it always been like that?

“Let’s go?” His voice broke the chain of your thoughts.

“Yes. You go first I’ll be there in a minute...” you let him know and waited for him to be outside the room before you ran to Yuki and stopped her.

“What happened?” She was startled as she turned back to you with eyes widened in surprise.

“I need your help?” you got to the point straight away.

“My help...what is it?” she raised an eyebrow at your sudden request.

“Jimin wants me to meet her girlfriend. And honestly, I don’t want to be third wheeling...” you were quick to make up something that was believable enough.

“Oh, I see...” Yuki caught onto your point in a second. “So you want me to come with you so we can excuse ourselves and then leave,” she completed your thought and you nodded.

“Exactly...”

“Okay, no problem. When do we go?” she asked, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Now!” you said and before she could respond, you were already dragging her by the hand. You did not want Jimin to speculate anything, so you left as soon as Yuki agreed.

—

It was easy for you to spot Jimin just by his hair in the crowd of students that chattered away like there was no tomorrow. Oh what would you give to have your fingers glide through the soft strands of his hair.

It was when you walked a little closer that your eyes landed at Sarah, and the sight made your stomach churn and a lump to form in your throat.

“There they are...” you squeaked to Yuki who was still searching through the crowd for Jimin.

“Let’s go,” she said and this time she had to pull you by the hand to make you walk.

“What if we don’t go?” you asked Yuki, making her to stop and look back at you.

“But why?” she asked.

“Why...uhm – because look at them, they are talking and seemingly enjoying each other’s company...let them have it, d-don’t you think?” your breath was already staggering just by looking at them so engrossed in each other and you did not know what would happen if you were to sit near them and listen to them talk.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Jimin asked you to be there, didn’t he? He is your best friend. And I promise I’ll excuse us in just ten minutes,” Yuki assured you and you started walking with her half heartedly.

Best friend.

That was what you were to him, and that’s what the problem was. You knew he would put you first in every situation, but he wouldn’t think of you like you wanted him to; never.

Jimin spotted you from a distance and waved you over. You and Yuki took a seat across them before Jimin started introducing you.

You had to force yourself to smile at Sarah and Yuki who sat beside you was beginning to understand that something wasn’t right. She could tell that you were growing uncomfortable from the way you repeatedly shifted in your seat but it wasn’t because you didn’t want to intrude their space; it was something else.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say Sarah was a bitch, for you realised she was actually a sweet woman when you talked to her. You could see why Jimin liked her but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eye and tell yourself that it was okay. She would always be the person who had the one thing that you couldn’t get – Jimin.

“Jimin tells me that you’re his best friend,” Sarah smiled at you as you took a sip of water. Those two words never failed to make you wince.

“He does...haha,” you gave a humourless laugh, causing Jimin to squint his eyes at you while Yuki looked at you with pitiful eyes. She knew exactly what was wrong.

“I really hope we get along nicely, Y/N.” Sarah spoke with honest emotions, while you on the other hand had difficulty even forming proper thoughts. So you just looked at her.

“I know you two will,” Jimin came to your rescue, clearly sensing the uneasiness in your demeanour but still clueless as to what was it for.

Sarah looked at her watch, “Oh, I have to go, my friends must be waiting. I’ll see you later?” she said before as she turned to Jimin.

She put her hand on Jimin’s that rested on his thigh and you chest tightened so hard you thought you would faint. Jimin, as if instinctively, put his other hand on hers and squeezed it a little while you wished you had gone blind before witnessing it. Your heart sank to the deepest pits and everything inside you suddenly felt hollow. Your breaths came out in short gasps while Yuki observed the whole scene, totally forgetting her promise.

You clutched the hem of your shirt so tight your knuckles turned white. You felt your face heat up when Sarah leaned in to whisper something in his ear and that’s when you knew you couldn’t take it anymore.

You got up and shot a quick ‘I gotta go’ before leaving the scene for good. Yuki followed you as Jimin looked at your back, shocked at the way you just left.

“I’ll go and see what’s wrong,” Jimin excused himself, not taking another look back at Sarah before he ran after you.

You ran to the ladies room and braced yourself with your hands on the edge of the basin while Yuki just stood there, ready to offer any help if you needed it. You were sure you were having an anxiety attack with the way your breaths came out shallow and your vision blurred. Your head was spinning as you tried to catch on your breath. Yuki rubbed your back as your feet began to stagger a little.

“You need to get out of here, Y/N!” Yuki said worriedly beside you.

“I-I can’t...” you said gathering whatever energy you were left with.

“Let me help you. You should be out in the open,” she said as she supported you while you dragged your feet to wherever she was taking you, holding onto your chest with one hand.

It took you several minutes to at least grasp your surroundings. You were out in the open in fresh air and it instantly calmed your nerves. You took a few more deep breaths before the anxiety died away entirely.

You looked at Yuki who was still worried about you. “I’m sorry I had you worried.”

“Are you okay now?” she asked you but before you could reply you heard Jimin calling your name from a distance. You turned around to look at him running towards you at full speed. When he reached you he was totally out of breath but that didn’t stop him from shooting questions at you.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, taking a step closer to you.

“Yes, I’m fine—” you started saying but Jimin was quick to wrap you up in a hug tight enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“Oh thank god! You had me worried there.” Jimin’s voice was laced with nothing but concern and care and you wanted to just cry into his shoulder and tell him everything there and then. You wrapped you arms around him when he didn’t let go and inhaled his scent, so sweet – something that felt so familiar yet different to you.

“But what happened? It’s so unlikely of you to just leave like that?” he asked once he let go of you.

“I-I needed to use the washroom really bad,” you said sheepishly, failing to convince even yourself let alone anybody else.

“Seriously Y/N?”

You just nodded in response, considering that it was too risky to change your words now.

“Alright,” Jimin mumbled, but he had some inkling that you were lying and hiding something from him. It wasn’t like you to keep secrets from him, so he waited for you to come and tell him on your own instead of putting any pressure on you.

—

That night in hostel, Yuki joined you in your room after dinner.

“What is all this about?” she got straight to the point as she stood in front of you, hands folded over her chest.

“What?” You knew well enough what she was talking about, but you gave it a try, thinking—rather wishing that it was about something else.

“You know what Y/N...I know you like Jimin!” she blurted out and you sighed in defeat. There was no point in beating around the bush now.

“What am I supposed to do Yuki?” you cried, unable to control it – finally finding someone you could talk to.

“What do you want to do?” she asked in return, “How long since you started feeling that way?” she asked with care and made you sit down on your bed.

“I don’t know...about either of the two. I just suddenly realised that I can’t imagine him being with another girl.” A tear fell down your cheek.

“I’ve been noticing the difference in you two for the past few months. What is exactly happening?” Yuki asked the question you dreaded the most. Honestly, you wanted to tell her everything but you decided against it, feeling ashamed to tell her about your exact relationship with Jimin. It wasn’t something you were proud of or wanted people to find out about.

“We just started hanging out a little more. I don’t know when I started feeling that way to be honest. I’m not sure even now, Yuki, if it’s the possessiveness towards a friend or something else,” you told her the half truth, covering it up with something believable before you started telling her everything else.

“Do you think you should tell him?” Yuki asked after attentively listening to everything you had to tell her.

“I’m scared...I’m scared that he’d run away. He will run away Yuki! He sees me as a friend and nothing more and I’m scared I will destroy it if I tell him,” you sobbed.

“You’re not just a friend to him, Y/N, and you know that very well. He cares for you like nobody else. In fact, he hardly talks to any other girl besides you,” Yuki said, stating the facts for you to look at them optimistically.

“But he talks to Sarah now,” you commented ruefully, the image of her and Jimin holding hands doing rounds in your head all over again.

“It’s probably just another short lived relationship Y/N, plus they’re just dating it’s nothing serious,” she tried further to make you understand and decide what you wanted to do.

“You think so? You still think so after watching them being all cuddly today? It was so intimate Yuki it made me sick to my very core!” Your words were turning bitter by the moment.

“What do you want then?” Yuki was starting to lose her cool, the frustration of not being able to reach to a conclusion evident in her tone.

“I just know that I can’t let him go...that’s too much a price to pay,” you muttered and Yuki immediately comforted you with a sympathetic hand over your shoulder.

“How long will you torture yourself like this?” she asked weakly.

“For as long as I can take it...”

—

It had been a couple of weeks since your first encounter with Sarah. You had been trying your best to stay your usual self around her and had made some progress. Yuki tagged along with you more now and you couldn’t be more thankful. You just wished you had enough courage to tell her everything without leaving a single incident out, but alas!

Jimin, on the other hand could tell there was something terribly wrong with the way you were behaving with him. You two had mutually decided to stop having sex for you considered it to be Jimin cheating on Sarah, and you did not want to be a part of it. But that did not stop Jimin from hanging out in your room, enjoying the level of comfort you two had built up in the past months.

Jimin would occasionally ask for cuddles, and you denied him every time except the ones where he was just too difficult to resist. He could tell there was more behind your denials than just the reason you had given him but he couldn’t bring himself to ask you directly, afraid that he would be invading your space by doing so, and there was no other way to know.

Jimin couldn’t stand to look at you all lost and void of the cheerful energy that you used to carry around you. He just wanted to know and put an end to your problems, if only he knew. He spent his days worrying and wondering, looking for any type of clues to know what was going on in that little head of yours until one day he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked you one day when it was just you and him in the canteen, no Yuki and no Sarah. But you were waiting and bracing yourself for the latter to arrive.

“Yes?” you replied without looking at him or anywhere in particular for that matter.

“Look at me,” he demanded and you heaved in a breath before doing as asked. It was visible on his very face, the fact that he knew – he always knew even without you saying a word. You saw the hardships he was going through himself because he saw you suffering for an unknown reason, and you just asked yourself if this was not enough to make someone fall in love, what was?

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jimin,” you forced your words along with a smile, trying to sound as natural as possible.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I did not ask until now because I thought you just needed some time before you come and tell me...but I can’t wait anymore. Tell me what happened?” he asked you so softly you could feel your heart melting behind your ribcage.

“No seriously, it’s nothing...” you tried to convince him.

“There you are, lying again, as if I can’t see it. Tell me Y/N; you don’t let me anywhere near you, always finding excuses to get away from me. Sometimes they are so ridiculous that I can’t believe you expect me to actually buy them. You said you didn’t want to have sex anymore and you had a valid reason, so I accepted it, but you push me away even when I want to just hang out. Have I done something to hurt you? Tell me if I have...” Jimin sounded so helpless you wanted to comfort him as you cursed yourself for making him feel that way. It was the last thing you wanted, for him to think that he could hurt you.

“Is something wrong back at home?” Jimin speculated further, his brain going through every possible scenario that could make you go so quiet all of a sudden. “Come on Y/N give me something...it’s eating me alive!” he pleaded.

You gave a thought to telling him the truth and putting him out of his misery, but before you could give even a second’s more consideration to it, you noticed a familiar figure walking closer to where you both sat. And your heart sank. Just when you two were finally opening up a little for the first time in weeks – ugh! You hated that woman.

Sarah walked to where Jimin sat and stepped behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder possessively before looking at you.

“Hey Y/N,” she smiled at you and you mirrored her expressions before looking away immediately. You could sense as the familiar feeling of your chest tightening and your throat constricting returning to you, leaving you breathless, gasping for air. This did not go unnoticed by Jimin. He was quick to pick up on your reactions.

“Sarah, do you mind giving us a minute? We were actually in the middle of something...” Jimin asked without much thought and Sarah was slightly taken aback by his sudden request, but she was quick to cover it up.

“Oh...sure. I’ll be right outside, okay?” she smiled before kissing Jimin on the cheek and then stood up to leave. Her gesture from seconds ago made you ball your hands into fists. Sweat beads formed on your forehead from how much struggle you were going through just to breathe.

You were about to get up and leave to avoid making the situation worse, but Jimin held you down by the hand.

“What is troubling you?” he asked sternly this time, hating to witness how you were withering away right in front his eyes.

“I-I told you it’s nothing Jimin,” you still stood firm on your reply, sure that now wasn’t the time to tell him. You would destroy a lot if you did.

“Stop that! I can’t see this anymore...just tell me what’s wrong? Is it Sarah? Has she said something to you? Does she make you uncomfortable?” Jimin shot more questions at you, desperate for an answer, for anything that could tell him what bothered you.

You took a few breaths before meeting eyes with Jimin. You could tell how infuriated he was feeling. His face glistened with sweat as his hair clung to his forehead. He was breathing with short puffs of air and you knew you’d have to calm him down before he lost him temper entirely.

“Listen to me...you’re over thinking this,” you said as you collected your own self, “it is nothing like what you think. You know I’ve always had anxiety issues, Jimin. It’s nothing new and nothing big, trust me,” you weighed your words before you calmly made him understand, seeing his face return to its normal colour from the red that had taken over it.

“I’ll believe you this time, Y/N, but promise me you’ll tell him if something’s wrong?” he said as he extended his hand to hold yours tightly, while all you could think about was Sarah’s hand in his. You hated whatever it was inside you that didn’t let you enjoy one moment with him without bringing up Sarah in your thoughts.

“I will,” You smiled. “Now go, she’s waiting for you,” you said half heartedly and Jimin got up from his chair.

“Just know that you mean more than everything to me, Y/N. You know I’ll do anything to make you feel better; you just have to name it. Don’t be so hard on yourself and talk to me, okay?” he said before he held you for a few seconds, your head resting on his stomach and oh how hard it was for you not to cry.

His words came from his heart and went straight to yours and for a second you felt like Jimin felt the same towards you, but you knew better. It wasn’t possible. He was dating another woman, it was just impossible.

You closed your eyes shut and let the tears fall when Jimin left. Yuki must have been watching from a distance for she was there beside you the very next second.

“Oh Y/N...” she sympathised. “It hurts me to just look at it. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for you,” she said as she rubbed your arm while you just sat there.

“I almost told him today, Yuki,” you confessed and her eyes widened.

“What?! Then what happened?” she asked with a mixture of shock and curiosity.

“Well, I thought maybe I should and then suddenly Sarah came...” you explained, still thinking about how she always had his hands on him authoritatively and it wrecked your nerves.

“You’re being too hard on yourself Y/N, just tell him and get it over with,” Yuki suggested.

“I still don’t know Yuki...maybe I will, very soon. It’s his birthday next week. I’ll wait till then and then I’ll see...” You were still uncertain as to what you wanted. Of course you wanted Jimin to love you like you had began to, as unexpectedly as it was, you just didn’t know how or if it was at all possible.

“I really wish I could do something for you.”

“You’re already doing enough Yuki. Thanks...” You smiled lightly before checking your watch and realising it was almost time for the next class.

“Let’s go! Professor Kim hates it when we are late,” you ushered Yuki towards your classroom, trying to push away all the thought of Jimin and Sarah and what they must be doing.

—

You couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin’s last birthday, and how happy you were – just the two of you together for the whole day. Of course, there weren’t any feelings back then but the thought filled you with warmth but you also felt sad at the same time, for you couldn’t have it this year. ‘He is obviously gonna spend his day with Sarah,’ you thought.

“What are you thinking about now?” Yuki asked as she came to you with two plates of noodles in her hands and placed one of them before you.

“Nothing...just about how happy I was with him last year,” you sighed.

“Come on Y/N don’t be so low. This year is going to be just as great,” Yuki tried to reassure you.

You nodded as you played around with your food. The two of you then ate in silence until Yuki nudged you with her elbow, directing your attention to the last person you wanted to see walking towards you.

“Hey! How are you guys?” Sarah beamed at you good naturedly.

“We’re fine,” Yuki replied with a smile on your behalf as well, secretly wishing for Sarah to just leave after the pleasantries were exchanged, but to her utter dismay she made herself comfortable on the chair right opposite you.

“Have you seen Jimin?” she asked and the sound of his name tumbling from her mouth made you sick.

“No...” you lied, knowing that he had gone to meet a professor – enjoying the silly notion of knowing something she didn’t.

“Ah good then...it’s his birthday in a few days,” Sarah said, squinting her eyes slightly as if thinking about something.

“We know,” Yuki replied with a slight sarcasm in her tone. It should have made you happy, but being mean to Sarah wasn’t what you wanted. She wasn’t a bad person, it were the circumstances that had made you to hate her so badly.

“Well, I was thinking about what I should get him...” Sarah said, evidently trying to think hard about what to do.

“Well...Y/N gave him a really heartfelt gift last year,” Yuki said purely out of spite, wanting to let Sarah know that you were way better than her in every way possible.

“Really? What did you give him, Y/N?” she asked curiously, her chin resting on her palm as she took great interest in what was to come.

“”I-I made him an album...” you said and your mind went back to that day.

You had spent months making that one thing for him, a collection of your times together. And Jimin had held it above everything else, thanking you with tears in his eyes as he flipped through the pages.

You had made him a hand-made album from scratch, collecting the worst pictures of you two that accounted for the best of the memories. You had left a note beside each one, reminding him how goofy and silly you two have been in the past and he had loved it. He had acknowledged the effort you had put into every single page.

You could still see how his eyes had widened when he had pulled it out of the wrapping papers. He had mumbled a ‘what is this’ before you urged him to open it further. He had held it to his chest for a good moment before beginning to leaf through the pages, living those moments again like you had while you glued every picture.

“You made him an album?” Sarah asked with shock laced in her voice.

“Yes...and Jimin had loved it,” Yuki further teased her as she especially emphasised the word, earning herself a smack on the thigh from you. But she did not stop there, quite adamant on making Sarah feel as little as she could. “You should have seen it, Sarah...it was the most beautiful thing I had seen someone make for a person. Oh what would I give to have someone give me something like that piece of wonder,” Yuki bragged further, not willing to stop anytime soon.

“Oh god...this makes me nervous. Ah I really need to give him something really good. Do you have any ideas?” Yuki had successfully made Sarah feel helpless and clueless as to what she was supposed to do. You could see the confusion grow on her face as she thought of ideas but nothing came close to how Yuki had defined your present to be.

“I don’t really think anything can match it Sarah, plus you don’t have time to make something for him now,” Yuki mocked her to no end and as much as you wanted to enjoy it, you knew she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ll find something, Sarah, don’t worry. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself, let it come naturally,” you finally spoke, trying to lighten the burden Yuki had suddenly huddled upon her.

“Maybe I’ll make something for his next birthday, but I really hope I think of something before his day this year,” Sarah lamented. “I’ve got go now. I’ll see you later?” She flashed her signature smile before she walked away.

But her words had stuck with you...next birthday?

You had rarely asked Jimin about how things were going with Sarah, what he thought about the relationship and where he saw it going in the coming time. But the fact that Sarah thought she would be spending his next birthday with him could only mean one thing – things were going smoothly between them. The mere thought was enough to leave you heartbroken as all your hopes – if you really were left with any to begin with – to shatter to pieces.

“I gave her a good time,” Yuki said proudly, interrupting your analysis or their relationship.

“I think I should go to my room, Yuki. I really need to lie down,” You told her as you got up, leaving your lunch almost entirely uneaten before you walked to your room. You needed some space, some time and definitely to maintain some distance with Jimin. He would sit beside you no matter what and you couldn’t be close to him at the moment.

You locked your room from inside and allowed yourself to breathe. You cursed yourself for not being able to subside your desires and your expectations, for thinking that something could really happen between you and Jimin.

You closed your eyes once you were lying flat on your back on your bed, thinking about all the possibilities that could show themselves if you decided to confess your feelings. If it had not been for the fear of losing him, you would have wasted no time in doing so. But you weren’t sure how Jimin would react...he might be accepting of it but what if he wasn’t and started hating you? That was the thought that scared you the most.

—

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin asked Yuki after ten minutes had gone since the lecture started with no sign of you showing up.

“She went back to her room,” Yuki told him.

“Why?” Jimin’s eyes widened the instant those words left her mouth.

“She wasn’t really feeling well,” Yuki told him the truth, low-key wanting him to find out everything regardless of what would happen after it.

“What happened to her? Should I go and see her?” Jimin fired questions at Yuki, unable to control himself after what he had just heard.

“I don’t know Jimin...she just said she wasn’t feeling well,” Yuki shrugged, getting back to her work but watching Jimin from the corner of her eyes. He was hardly able to concentrate on anything the professor said. He finally took out his phone and texted you, but did not get any reply. He sent you three more texts but all of them went unanswered like the first one. He desperately waited for the lecture to end so he could call you or see you or anything.

Yuki could see the way Jimin was squirming restlessly, looking at the professor but his mind wandering elsewhere, thinking of nothing but you.

“Yuki...can you tell Y/N to check her phone? I don’t want to call her in case she’s sleeping. And take care of her for me?” Jimin asked for a favour as soon as the professor left and Yuki smiled to herself.

“Don’t worry I will.” Yuki said before walking away.

—

You talked to Jimin later that evening and saw him the next day. He looked at you with worried eyes, noticing how you were quieter than usual.

He had asked you if you were okay after every lecture, successfully making you laugh lightly at how he was so serious about something so trivial. You had just taken half of the day off.

“Will you stop worrying Jimin...I’m fine. I was just tired so I left,” you turned to him when he did not stop pestering you.

“Well then next time tell me before you leave. I don’t feel like sitting here without you,” he pouted as he chided you.

“Fine...” you gave in, not really wanting to argue anymore.

“What have you prepared this time?” Jimin suddenly asked as he leaned forward to look at you.

“For what?” You were clueless as to what he was talking about.

“Really Y/N...you are asking this?” he feigned shock, looking at you like you had committed a crime.

“Yes I am. Care to tell me now?” and as soon as these words left your mouth it clicked.

“It’s my birthday in two days you dumb head!” he complained before moving and turning away from you. But you could not pay attention to him, for all you could think about was Sarah all over again. She’s going to be the one preparing a party; she’s going to be the one standing beside him while he blew the candles, not you. Hers will be the most important wish and not yours. Oh there was so much that wasn’t going to be yours – including Jimin.

Jimin noticed how you had zoned out again, thinking about something but always denying it whenever he asked.

“Okay Y/N, I caught you red handed this time. What were you thinking, tell me!” He demanded as his voice changed – suddenly stern and no longer playful.

“My answer’s the same,” you said without much thought and Jimin sighed in frustration. He was getting tired of you running away from things, not telling him any of it and avoiding him on top of everything.

“You know what Y/N...I’m not going to talk to you until you tell me. The choice is yours now!” Jimin was helpless. He could see no other way of making you speak and as much as it hurt him to say that, it was his last resort.

“Whatever you want, Park Jimin!” You hated how he had put that condition in front of you, but a part of you was thankful that you wouldn’t have to face his questions. It was entirely up to you now.

Jimin huffed at your response, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before you’d come to him. After all, it wasn’t easy for either of you to stay away from the other for long...but little did Jimin know that you’d been doing things far more difficult than being apart for more than just days.

—

You considered staying in to be a safer option for the two days that were left for Jimin’s birthday. You were growing restless and impatient with your feelings, and now was the worst time of all. And since Jimin had already said that he wouldn’t talk to you until you tell him, you wouldn’t have to answer to anything for he always kept his word.

Jimin, on the other hand, grew restless too but from different reasons. There were things that troubled him – emotions and feelings to be more specific – but he was unaware of what they were, where they came from or how to deal with them. He just felt uneasy. And to top all that off, you were behaving like never before. He wanted to do something for you, if only you would let him.

Jimin respected your wish of not wanting to tell him, but deep inside he was not ready to be left out of anything that concerned you, that disturbed you or caused you any stress. He was so used to knowing everything about you that being uniformed haunted him. Jimin knew it was just the habit he had developed over the months that tormented him...or was it something else?

When Jimin did not see you at college the next day, he knew you were trying to avoid him. It was agonising to sit through the day without you, and he regretted making such a rash decision. As Jimin took out his phone from his pocket, his hand hovered over your name, but the stubbornness to keep his word and make you speak got the better of him. ‘It’s now or never’ he thought as he got up to go and meet Sarah.

—

The fact that you had nothing to do in that one room was an absolute bane in the given situation. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of your best friend and his girlfriend even more than before. All you could see was them chattering away happily, holding hands and even kissing each other. Your brain brewed the worst possible scenarios for you to lament over.

Sometimes you would imagine Jimin being so happy with Sarah that your existence seemed to be wiped out of his life; other times you would imagine Sarah being the wicked person you viewed her as and making Jimin turn against you.

For the two days that passed, you had done nothing but tortured yourself with similar thoughts and made up scenarios. Yuki had come to check up on you and you secretly wished that she would tell you something about Jimin, but there was never anything. She just tried to talk you out of confining yourself to that room and you denied her request every time. That was what you needed at the moment, or so you thought.

When Jimin did not text you or call you even once, something died a little inside you. Maybe you did not matter that much to him anymore. ‘He must be talking to Sarah,’ you always concluded. Those two days did more damage than any other times, making you believe that you had lost Jimin forever...for two days was the longest time you had gone without talking to him, and the fact that he hadn’t tried even once made your body go limp as your hopes shattered completely.

—

The sound of your phone chiming at the new message made you jump out of your bed. You desperately wished for it to be from Jimin.

23:24, Jimin: It’s my birthday tomorrow Y/N. I know we are not talking but at least wish me and be there. It’s incomplete without you.

Your eyes welled up after reading his message, not sure what to make of it. Was he angry with you...or sad? Did he really miss you?

23:27, Y/N: of course I’ll be there...

You typed and sent and held your phone to your chest. You blamed yourself for everything, for turning things bitter between you and Jimin when they were going just fine. You blamed yourself for pushing him away and making him as miserable as you were...and he had not even done anything wrong.

You wished Jimin over a text at midnight before you cried yourself to sleep. You dreaded the day that was to come; for both yourself and for Jimin.

How did you end up like this?

—

There was an evident layer of awkwardness between you and Jimin when you saw him the next day. Yuki saw it too, and that’s why she decided to puncture it a little.

“Happy birthday, Jimin!” She extended her hand towards him as she wished him from her heart.

“Thank you, Yuki...” It was visible how much effort he had to make just to smile.

“Happy birthday...” you took some inspiration from Yuki and extended you hand too.

Jimin scoffed internally at you and stepped closer to envelop you in his embrace.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbled in your hair with a hint of sadness and your heart beat skyrocketed. You had not seen it coming but Jimin couldn’t hold himself anymore. He needed to feel that you were there, at least physically if not mentally.

You couldn’t meet eyes with him when he let go, and thankfully the professor arrived just in time to save you from the struggle of speaking anymore.

You could not focus as usual so you rested your head on the table, eyes diligently watching Jimin as he listened to the old man speak. Oh how long it had been since you actually looked at his face without being interrupted or being too shy.

Jimin could tell you were looking at him but he did not want to disturb your silent observation. He kept his eyes straight while his heart and mind wandered elsewhere.

Three classes passed without you and Jimin saying even a word to each other before it was finally the break time.

“Let’s go,” Jimin said when he realised you had no plans to go anywhere.

“Where?”

“To the canteen, where else?” he chuckled lightly and your heart fluttered.

You looked to the desk next to yours only to find it empty. “Where’s Yuki?” You questioned.

“She left already...while you were thinking about god knows what.” Jimin had a helpless expression over his face. And you hated that you were the reason.

You got up from your seat and walked with Jimin, waiting for Sarah to pop out from some corner and remind you that you were expecting the wrong things from the wrong person.

When you reached the usual spot where you and Jimin always sat amidst the crowd there was already a small cake on the table for him. You swallowed, knowing full well that it was from Sarah if not you.

Yuki appeared behind you shortly while you just started at the piece of bread in front of you. Jimin looked at the cake and then at you and Yuki mirrored his actions. All the thoughts that you had brewed up and fed yourself over the past days were regurgitating so quickly it made your body tremble. Sarah was all that was on your mind.

She had already sent him the cake, and it wouldn’t be long before both of them were standing together right in front of you, smiling at each other. All these thoughts were making it difficult to have a control upon how you were reacting.

“Y/N, what is wrong?” Jimin was quick to come to your aid as he held your quivering hands in his, trying to calm you down while you just started in the distance.

“I ca-can’t,” you mumbled under your breath so quietly none of your two friends could understand.

“What?” Jimin asked as he moved his ear closer to your mouth.

“I can’t...I can’t do this,” you exhaled.

“What are you talking about Y/N, tell me?” Jimin softly cooed near you.

“No-no...” you shook your head a couple of times before freeing yourself from Jimin’s hold and taking a step backwards. Jimin looked at you with a puzzled expression painted over his face.

He took a careful step towards you but you had just had enough. So you turned around and ran away from him, from that, place, from Sarah. You ran straight to your room and locked it, deciding that you wouldn’t open it no matter who came.

You walked lifelessly to your bed and let yourself fall down, listening to the sound of the rain that had started to pour outside before your own control gave in and you broke down into bitter sobs. Your whole body shook from the impact of the emotions you had been pretending not to have. You cried helplessly into your pillow, cursing yourself for getting too close, for getting too attached to only end up like this.

Why Jimin? You asked yourself and the images of you two spending time together without a care in the world flashed like a movie before you. You remembered how you used to be two happy people instead of a fucked up set of friends who could not sort and control their emotions.

It had been a while since you had left the dreaded scene and a part of you wondered what Jimin must be doing; was he celebrating with Sarah? Did he not miss you? Did he even care anymore? Fresh tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of how drastically things had changed. Earlier, Jimin couldn’t even stand you not being around and today, on his special day, it did not even bother him in the slightest.

You were staring blankly at your ceiling when the sound of someone knocking your door startled you. You knew it was Yuki and she had come to comfort you, but you did not want to talk to anybody.

“Let’s talk later, Yuki,” you shouted from your position on your bed, loud enough for her to hear. But either she did not hear it, or she deliberately ignored you as she knocked again.

This time you did not respond, thinking that she would leave if you did not answer but she did not. She kept on knocking and it drove you mad. You got up with a frustrated sigh and walked to the door in a total mood of giving her a hell. You opened the door ready to spew fire but stopped when you noticed it wasn’t Yuki.

“Jimin...” you breathed out. He was all drenched from the rain outside. Water dripped from his hair while some of the strands clung to his forehead. “Oh my god! why did you step out when it was raining?” You ran to fetch a towel from your wooden cupboard to dry him off.

“What can’t you do Y/N?” Jimin asked you, stopping you right in your tracks before you could even reach the cupboard.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You turned around to face him, taken aback by his sudden question.

“What you said earlier...what is it that you can’t do?” He took a step forward and you instinctively did the opposite, somehow wanting to have some distance between you two.

“Jimin...” your breath faltered.

“Tell me Y/N,” He took another step, closing the door with his foot.

“It’s nothing...” you looked at your feet as you said those words, finding it extremely difficult to hold his gaze.

“Are you sure it’s nothing?” he asked you in a low voice and your head snapped up. What did he mean? You just nodded in response, searching his face to tell you something as he moved even closer.

Jimin held you in your place and moved his face so close to yours his breath tickled you. You could feel the wetness from his jacket sleeves seep into the fabric of your top and form patches on both your shoulders.

“Are you sure?” he asked again and your breath hitched. You swallowed, unable to take your eyes away as his stared into you. A warm current ran down your spine but you managed the courage to nod your head again. That was when Jimin dived in and planted a chaste kiss on your lips, making every functional thing inside you to fail at once. His forehead touched yours; making you feel the cool sensation of water droplets that now beaded your forehead while the kiss contrastingly left you hot and sweaty.

“Still nothing?” Your eyes widened as those airy words left his mouth and your face heated up even more if that could happen. Jimin noticed the evident shock on your face and the corner of his lips slightly twitched upwards.

He took the opportunity to hold one side of your face with his hand as he kissed the apple of your other cheek. You stared at him, looking for answers to the million new questioned that surfaced from Jimin’s unforeseen actions.

“Yuki told me...”

“What?” You scared your own self from how abrupt and loud your voice was. “When...what did she say?” ‘Oh what has she done,’ you thought internally. The thought was so disturbing that you did not even realise that Jimin had come to see you and he had kissed you after he got to know everything.

“Everything that you should have already...” his tone was complaining.

“Oh my god what are you doing here Jimin? What about Sarah? We can’t do this...I already told you we can’t! I’ll understand if you can’t talk to me I deserve this...this is all my fault...” you rambled on and on without a pause. You shook your head unbelievably at what Yuki had done. You were sure that was it for you and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Will you listen for once?” Jimin said impatiently when you walked away and turned your back to him. When you did not speak anything, he took his queue to utter his next words:

“I broke up with Sarah.”

You turned around to look at him, to find a trace of sadness or guilt but there was nothing.

“Why, when?” you enquired as you walked closer to him to offer your comfort if need be.

“Two days ago...” he filled you in.

“Why didn’t you tell me Jimin?”

“You are one to ask that question, Y/N,” he taunted you without the intention to hurt. “You didn’t tell me about anything for weeks...I asked you everyday but you never said a word. Did you only have this much of faith in me, in us?” Jimin was hurt; you could hear it in his voice. You stared at your feet as your heart filled with guilt. Did you really give up on Jimin? The realisation was finally hitting you.

“I was—”

“What if Yuki hadn’t told me?” Jimin asked as he cut you mid sentence. “Where did this come from, Y/N...this distance between us, the thought that I wouldn’t understand? You really think so little of me?” his words broke your heart more than when you thought couldn’t have him.

“I was scared...” you heaved in a breath.

“Of what...me?”

“Of ruining our friendship,” you finally looked at him and your stomach twisted upon seeing his face. His eyes had started to redden.

“You think this wasn’t ruining it?” he fired at you; he was angry, and you couldn’t complain.

“What happened with Sarah?” you asked him, suddenly reminded of her and prayed that you weren’t the reason behind it.

Jimin stayed quiet for a second too long before he spoke, “she was uncomfortable with us. It left me with nothing but a choice.” He shrugged as if it was the most common thing and walked to get himself a towel.

“You broke up with her because of me?” you asked to confirm and your love struck heart fluttered as if it had grown wings of his own.

Jimin took off his jacket before he dried his hair and walked to you.

“I already told you, Y/N, you mean more than anything to me. I wasn’t joking when I said that...” he looked straight at you while he said those words and you felt yourself fall deeper if that was possible.

“Then...the cake?” You thought about the one thing that had triggered you.

“It was from Yuki. She bought it for you to give me,” Jimin told you and you felt more stupid than ever. And that is when it hit you. ‘Yuki told him, and he’s here...’ Your eyes widened to their full capacity as you looked at him.

“Why are you here, Jimin?” you asked him, dreading the worst case scenario. Your thoughts were everywhere, unable to focus at anything in particular.

“Why do you think?” he asked teasingly, but his face changed immediately when he saw you tearing up. “You know what, Y/N, in the past two days, I was more upset because I couldn’t talk to you than because of my breakup. I have been feeling things I didn’t even understand for weeks now...and when I tried to see through them I only ever saw your face fading away. I watched you grow distant and I hated myself for letting it happen, for not stopping you and trying more...”

“It wasn’t your fault...” you choked out, trying your best not to cry.

“It was! I knew there was something wrong with you and I did nothing. But I have thought about nothing but you, Y/N. I thought about you whether you were with me or not, I thought about you when I was with Sarah and I feel stupid I even started dating her. When Yuki told me everything today, it answered everything I wanted to know. It pained me not to see you, to not know what went through your mind when you looked at me. It hurt me to my very core to see you suffer and wear away with every passing day and not know the reason; and the fact that I couldn’t do anything about it...I can’t even explain it...but if this isn’t love Y/N, then I don’t know what is,” Jimin heaved in a breath as he finally said what you had only imagined in your dreams.

“Jimin...” you let the tears fall freely as you soaked every word that he had said like a dry sponge.

“I’m sorry I did not realise this earlier...but why didn’t you say anything, Y/N? Do you not trust me?” Jimin’s voice sounded betrayed. He had not expected you to keep something so big from him for so long a time.

“I was afraid Jimin...I was afraid that it would scare you away. You were already with Sarah and I didn’t want to be the cause of...” you trailed off, sniffling as you thought about everything you had seen and done in the past weeks.

Jimin took a step closer, closing all the distance between you and cradled your face in his hands. “Since when did you start thinking so much around me?” It pained him to see this change in you.

“Since I fell in love with you,” you blurted in a breath and Jimin’s features softened. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, offering the intimacy you had been craving for more than just days.

“Promise me you won’t do anything like this again...” he asked of you.

“I promise,” you said lightly.

“I love you,” he kissed your nose.

“I love you too, Jimin,” you finally said the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for ever but never left.

Jimin titled his face and his lips brushed with yours, sending tingles through your body before he enveloped them completely. Your breaths mingled as your lips danced together, leaving both of you breathless from all the emotions and feeling that you were swirling in.

“Oh...” you interrupted when he slightly pulled away, “I didn’t make you anything this year,” you said with regret in your voice and Jimin chuckled in response.

“This...this thing we have here,” he said as he entwined his fingers with yours, “this is better than any present I can ever have.” His words made your cheeks turn crimson and Jimin adored the way you looked.

He made you look at him and this time you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled him in for a euphoric kiss filled with love and longing that had piled up inside you for so long. Jimin’s hands caressed your sides and then travelled to your ass and settled there for a second before he scooped you up, making you squeal in shock into his mouth.

He lowered you on your bed, finally pulling away only to suck on the sweet spot beneath your earlobe that he was well aware of. He nibbled before kissing his way down to your throat, this time taking special care to leave marks on you, for now you belonged to him.

It did not take long before your naked bodies moved together in the rhythm you had already formed, reaching your ecstatic highs but it was not followed by the rush of finding your clothes and leaving this time. Instead, Jimin stayed on top of you after you were finished, liking how your sweaty bodies heaved in unison.

Sure he had seen you naked a hundred times before, caressed you and felt your skin under his finger tips. But this time, he took his time to admire the way your eyes dilated, the way you looked when he entered you. He noticed the roundness of your breasts and natural aroma of your skin. He noticed how your body shivered when you reached your peak. This time, he felt every inch of your skin while his own burned under your touch.

This time, it wasn’t just sex; it was two people making love to each other with no regrets and no boundaries. This time, there was no being afraid and running away as he finally lay beside you and enveloped your frame entirely into his, for this time...he was there to stay.

This time, you belonged to each other.

#bts scenario #jimin scenario #bts jimin #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #you belong with me #berrykookie #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic

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sodamvelvets · 4 years

Text

“remember forever”

kim yerim x fem reader

warnings: kinda angst in the middle

word count: 4,234

a/n: It took forever, but it’s finally done! This story was originally going to end with angst but I felt bad doing that, so the ending will be fluff as usual. I’m hoping to do an Irene fic next :) Enjoy!

The jarring sound of the school bell snaps Kim Yerim awake, the brunette blinking confusedly as she watches her classmates begin to slowly file out of the lecture hall. With wide eyes, Yerim hastily packs her things and stumbles out behind them, her black messenger bag hanging lazily over her shoulder and bouncing against her hip bone with each step she takes. All around Yerim, her fellow students begin to file out of their classes and fill the hallways, their louder than usual chatter signaling the end of a long and tiring school day.

“Kim Yerim!” A sudden force slams into Yerim, jumping on her back, and instinctively she shakes the weight from her body, hearing a loud thunk as she frees herself from her attacker's grasp. Yeri’s expression is one of annoyance as her eyes narrow upon you, her troublemaking best friend, who currently lays groaning on the floor. Wordlessly, Yerim helps you to your feet.

Yerim scowls at the bashful grin on your face, self consciously glancing around as she hears the snickers of her peers.

“Shin Y/N,” She hisses into your ear, grabbing your wrist. “When will you quit acting so childish? We’re almost thirteen!”

You raise a brow, pulling away from Yerim’s grasp. “Thirteen isn’t that old,” You say, your pace easily falling in sync with Yerim’s as the two of you exit the school together. “At least not old enough for our moms to let us walk home on our own,” You mutter, digging your hands into your pockets.

Yerim unintentionally laughs, her irritation with you quickly fading as your lip curves into a pout. “Maybe they will one day,” Yerim says, comfortingly patting your back, even if she doesn’t quite understand why having to walk home with her upsets you so much.

You beam at the younger girl. “Yeah! I’ll even ask my mom about it tonight!”

Yerim halfheartedly grins in response to your enthusiasm. Truthfully, Yerim doesn’t think she ever wants to walk home without you, or at least not until she has to, but that time won’t come for another three years when Yerim will most likely transfer to some performance arts high school that can better accommodate her trainee life. Until then though, Yerim wants to spend as much time as possible with you and make all the memories she can, before her free time is completely swallowed by her tedious practice hours that are already starting to encroach on her life now.

You’ve always been supportive of Yerim’s dream, ever since last year when she first told you she wanted to become an idol, and Yerim has always appreciated that, but lately it’s become an unspoken rule to not talk about the future, where you and Yerim will have to go your separate ways. Honestly, the thought of not always being with you scares Yerim. She can’t even remember a time when she wasn’t with you, growing up across the street from each other the two of you became quick friends, as did your mothers, and throughout your entire lives it was always spent together, and Yerim never thought it would be any different. But now that she’s a trainee, she realizes it will be different, and soon.

“Y/N?” Yerim asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had previously settled between you and her. “We’ll be together forever, right?”

Yerim bites her lips, noticing as a weird look of confusion fills your eyes. “Of course,” You say, your voice laced with worry. “Why would you think we wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know,” Yerim responds, rubbing the back of her neck. “I guess with me being a trainee now I was just scared about what that meant for us in the future.”

“Oh,” You laugh quietly, reaching for Yerim’s hand. “You think we won’t be best friends then because you’ll have to go to a different school.” Yerim nods and a smirk slowly spreads across your lips as you teasingly punch her shoulder. “Kim Yerim, you’re a lot dumber than I thought. I’m not going to stop being friends with you just because you have to go to a different high school.”

Yeri smiles softly. “Promise?”

“Promise,” You whisper, interlocking your pinky with Yerim’s. “Besides,” You add. “Three years is a long time from now.”

///

You were wrong, three years is not a long time, Yerim thinks bitterly as she gets ready for her first day at Hanlim and adjusts the bow of her freshly ironed gyobok, her eyes landing on a photograph of you and Yerim from this summer when you went to Everland all the way in Yongin.

Yerim remembers that day well. You were almost constantly smiling and there was this certain teasing but friendly lilt in your voice as you made fun of Yerim for being too afraid to go on the scarier rides. But what she remembers most clearly is what happened that night, when the two of you returned to your house, Yerim having been allowed to spend the night at your home. She remembers being surprised when you showed her the bottle of soju you had stolen from your parents, and how you and her nervously took turns sipping from it, quickly becoming giggling messes. Despite being insanely drunk at the time, to this day, Yerim can still clearly recall what happened next.

“Wait, you’ve never been kissed?” You laughed in disbelief, your cheeks starting to turn slightly red from the alcohol. “Not even by any of the hot guy trainees?”

“No,” Yerim responded, embarrassedly ducking her head and focusing on the pattern of the rug beneath her. “They’re all gross.”

“Even Minhyung?” You asked with a raised brow, and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Especially him!” Yerim exclaimed with a fake gag, which caused you to chuckle. It was a well-known fact that Yerim loathed Minhyung, or as he preferred to be called, Mark. The young rapper had much to Yerim’s distaste begun a fruitless and in Yerim’s opinion, a rather shameless pursuit of you two months ago when he had first seen you walking Yerim to the SM training center.

“Well,” You said, suddenly leaning closer to Yerim, wearing a frown. “I obviously can’t let my best friend go to her fancy idol school without ever having kissed someone.”

And then you gently wrapped your arms around her neck, delicately pressing your lips to Yerim’s for only a few seconds before pulling away with a confident smirk and giggling at Yerim’s shocked expression. “I think you’re ready for Hanlim now.”

Of course, Yerim realizes now you only did that because you were drunk, but she likes to think that you would’ve done it sober too, even if that’s just an impossible fantasy. Yerim sighs, her gaze returning to the image of you and Yerim, which she automatically omits herself from, focusing on you and your relaxed half-grin, that even in an image manages to make her heartbeat quicken, which seems to be a growing problem for Yerim as of late.

Yerim supposes it started sometime during the last year, long before you kissed her, when for some reason you suddenly stopped looking so dorky to Yerim, and less like the awkward best friend of her whole life and more like a beautiful and mature young woman that quite frankly left her speechless. Suddenly, Yerim began to notice the little things about you that despite her years with you had never caught her attention before, like how you would subtly raise a brow when you were annoyed or the way you’d bite the inside of your cheek when you wanted to say something but couldn’t. Yerim was surprised to find that she no longer wanted to slap you when you made your stupid jokes but rather laugh, and even worse kiss you goodbye instead of simply hugging you.

Yerim never told you any of this though nor did she dare act on it, instead she chose to keep it to herself, which is why you never quite understood Yerim’s hatred for Mark Lee, whom she frequently found herself jealous of, especially when just a week after your kiss with Yerim, you finally agreed to go on a date with him that led the two of you to quickly enter a relationship with each other, and of course everyone loved Mark, especially your parents. Even though Yerim said she was happy for you, always forcing a smile when you would excitedly tell her Mark was teaching you English or that you had plans with him for the weekend, deep down she was upset that she couldn’t be Mark, because sometime in between your walks home together and your whispered secrets in the dark, Yerim started to fall in love with you, her best friend, and all she wants is for you to love her back in the way she loves you.

“Yerim, let’s go!” Yerim’s head snaps up at the sound of her mother’s voice, eyes widening as she hurriedly grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder as she races downstairs, yelling a farewell to her younger sisters as she runs out the door, where she sees her mother sitting in the family car, leaning slightly outside the rolled down window and talking to someone who Yerim immediately recognizes as you.

“Yerim!” You call excitedly, apologetically excusing yourself from your conversation with Yerim’s mother as you run to meet Yerim, capturing her in a tight embrace. “Excited for Hanlim?” You ask, pulling away and giving Yerim an impressed look.

Yerim shrugs, observing your own gyobok, which is a lot simpler than hers. “I guess so,” Yerim chuckles, poking your stomach. “I definitely won’t miss you though.”

You cackle, melodramatically clutching your heart and pretending to have been shot, stopping when Yerim kicks your shin. “That is a lie Kim Yerim,” You say, wearing a knowing grin. “I know for a fact that you adore my presence.”

Yerim crosses her arms, her brow arching upwards. “Do I now?”

“Yes,” You say confidently, tapping Yerim lightly on the nose. “You love me.”

If only you knew, Yerim thinks bitterly, before shaking the thought away. “Unfortunately, you are right,” She huffs, and you smirk in victory.

“I gotta go,” You mutter, checking your watch. “I’ll catch you later Kim Yerim. Have fun with the talented kids,” You tease, and Yerim gasps in offense, moving to hit your shoulder but missing, causing you to childishly stick your tongue out at her.

“Hey,” Yerim says, grabbing your wrist as you start to leave. “SM is giving student trainees the day off for the first day of school, do you want to do something together after your classes end?”

“I’m so sorry Yerim,” You say with an apologetic smile. “But I can't, I have classes until ten o’clock tonight and I promised Mark I’d practice English with him one more time before my hagwons start next week. I’m really sorry Yerim.”

Yerim internally facepalms herself. Of course, you’re busy, Yerim forgot your school day isn’t cut short like hers is in order to accommodate her training schedule, and even if it was, you’d obviously want to spend your free time with your own boyfriend. Noticing the worried expression that has spread across your face due to Yerim’s silence, she hastily forces out a laugh. “It’s okay, maybe another time then?”

“Definitely,” You promise, lightly patting Yerim’s cheek before pulling away from her grasp. “Have a good day Yerim!” You call over your shoulder as you start to jog away.

“You too, Shin Y/N,” Yerim murmurs waving goodbye, watching as you set off down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the nearby high school.

“Ready?” Yerim’s mother asks as she climbs into the passenger seat.

Yerim nods, taking one last look at your receding form before smoothing her skirt. “Yeah.”

Yerim doesn’t see you much after that day, especially once she was requested to move into the SM dorms following her debut. Sometimes she’ll see you hanging around the dorms with Mark, who like Yeri also managed to debut. The two of you are still going strong even after almost two years. But other than your occasional appearance at the dorms, Yeri doesn’t ever really see you around. Both of you had little to no free time with Yerim’s training and your constant after school studying and hagwons that went all the way until two in the morning. In fact, you’re so busy that she hasn’t personally heard anything from you since the congratulatory text you sent Yerim after her first special stage for Ice Cream Cake, which was over a year ago.

The most recent time she saw you was a couple months ago when she returned home for Chuseok, having been granted a few days off by her company, and even then it was barely an interaction, just a rapidly uttered hello as you ran past Yerim’s house, chasing after your younger brother and pet dog, with a laughing Mark trailing closely behind, having been invited to stay with your family since he couldn’t return to Canada. Despite the briefness of your encounter, Yerim still remembers the way you looked, your long black hair flowing in the wind, everything about you still as gorgeous as ever. Even after all these years, Yerim was still jealous of Mark Lee.

Still, Yerim doesn’t blame you for not being able to spend time with her, especially as the days practically fly past Yerim and she soon finds herself already wrapping up her fourth comeback with Red Velvet, Russian Roulette. By now Yerim guesses it’s been almost a year since she saw you on Chuseok, but today, as she determinedly walks up the drive of your house, knowing it’s one of the two Saturdays you have off from school each month, she decides that streak will end. Yerim misses you a lot, and even though she hasn’t seen you in so long, she still loves you just as much as she did before the two of you lost touch, and as Yerim rings your doorbell, she feels hopeful that she can revive your friendship, not even caring that she can’t be the one to hold your heart. She just wants you back in her life in some way, no matter the label of your relationship.

“Yerim!” Your mother, Mrs. Shin, gasps in surprise as she opens the door, wrapping her arms around Yerim in a tight hug. “It’s been years!” Mrs. Shin pulls away from Yerim, looking at her with a raised brow. “But what brings you here, aren’t you busy with promotions?”

Yerim gapes at Mrs. Shin, somewhat surprised that she’s kept up with Red Velvet’s activities before shaking her head. “No, they just ended actually,” Yerim says, rubbing her neck awkwardly. “I just came by to see Y/N, it’s been a while since we last talked.”

Mrs. Shin tilts her head, an unreadable expression coming over her face. “Y/N?” She echoes, confusion clearly laced in her voice.

“Yeah,” Yerim laughs uncomfortably, attempting to peer over your mother’s shoulder and look inside your house. “Is she here?”

“Oh Yerim,” Mrs. Shin says softly, sudden realization in her voice as she reaches for Yerim’s hand. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what?” Yerim asks nervously, dread beginning to build in her stomach.”

“Y/N went to America to study abroad,” Mrs. Shin whispers. “She won’t be back until she graduates.”

You broke your promise, Yerim thinks as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. You promised you’d be with Yerim forever and then you left. Yerim wants to scream, and curse the world, to fly all the way to America tell you how much she hates you, but the worst part is, she can’t do that because she knows she’d be lying. Even after all you’ve done, Kim Yerim still loves you, and she can’t even stay mad at you for leaving.

///

Yerim sighs softly as her makeup artist, Kyoung Mee, applies her lip liner, preparing the young idol for Red Velvet’s fan meeting happening in less than an hour.

“All right,” Kyoung Mee says, patting Yerim’s shoulder. “You’re all set.”

Yerim smiles in appreciation. “Thank you, it looks beautiful.”

Yerim bites her lip, looking in the mirror and adjusting her jacket. It’s been four years since that day when she found out you went to study abroad, and even now, you still haven’t officially returned. According to your mother, you had decided to stay in America to study at some high-class med school. Every once in a while, you’ll come to Korea for a brief visit before disappearing again, but no matter how hard she tries to free up her schedule, Yerim always seems to miss you.

“Yeri’s making that face again!” Yerim jumps at the sound of her bandmate, Park Sooyoung’s voice, Yerim turning in her seat to slap the older girl as she appears behind Yerim, wearing a mischievous smirk. “You hit like a baby Yeri, but I guess it makes sense since you’re the maknae.”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you give me another try,” She mutters.

“No thanks,” Joy grins, pinching Yerim’s cheeks. “We can’t have our little baby tiring herself out before the fan meet,”

“I swear to God Sooyoung,” Yerim growls swatting the older girl’s hand away. “I‘ll kill you one day.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Joy cackles, ruffling Yerim’s hair and taking a seat next to her. “Anyways,” Joy says, leaning back in her chair and stretching out her arms behind her. “Why were you making that face again?”

“What face?” Yerim asks flatly, pulling out her phone and beginning to scroll through her social media.

Joy shrugs. “The one you make when you think about that Shin Y/N girl.”

Yerim places her phone on the table, meeting Joy’s gaze. “I don’t make a face when I think about her,” Yeri deadpans.

Joy laughs obnoxiously. “Yes, you do.”

Yerim crosses her arms. “No, I don’t.”

“Actually, for once Sooyoung is right,” Joohyun, who despite being across the room calls, clearly having been listening to the two younger girls’ conversation. “You totally do. I remember you used to make the same exact face whenever you’d see her and Mark Lee together.”

“Shut up Irene!” Yeri yells, sinking down in her chair, and burying her head in her hands, she feels like an idiot. It’s been five years since she last saw you and yet somehow she’s still horribly in love with you. You, a girl who quite literally left Yerim on her own and has never once even thought of Yerim romantically.

“I’m sorry Yerim. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Joy says softly after a few moments of silence, reaching out to grab Yerim’s wrist. “But, don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“I’ve tried Sooyoung,” Yerim murmurs. “I just can’t.”

Joy opens her mouth to say something but closes it when their manager appears with Seulgi and Seungwan lurking behind him. “It’s time for the fan meeting ladies.”

Yerim nods, standing to follow her manager, but Sooyoung stops her. “Will you be okay?”

Yerim takes a deep breath. “Yeah.” She says, brushing past Sooyoung.

Yerim is smiling broadly by the time the fan meeting is nearing its end, her precious luvies having improved her mood significantly, each brief conversation and signed album helping her push away any lingering thoughts of you.

“What the hell?” Yerim hears Irene mutter under her breath, and Yerim briefly peers over at her leader only to find her cheerfully conversing with a female fan, who has hidden their face in embarrassment, and Yerim assumes it’s most likely because of some greasy pick-up line that Irene learned from Seungwan.

Still confused, Yerim looks down the table, handing a luvie their album back and searching for what could’ve possibly alarmed Irene as she waits for Joohyun to finish things up with the fan she’s currently talking with. But Yerim notices nothing out of the ordinary unless she counts the different order she and her members had decided to sit in today, that leaves Yerim and Irene at the table’s end.

“Excuse me?” Yerim jumps at the sound, her gaze refocusing forwards as the female luvie who had just been chatting with Irene sits down in front of her, wearing a lazy half-grin, and Yerim’s jaw drops. Suddenly, she understands Joohyun’s prior shock. It’s you.

“It’s been awhile Kim Yerim,” You murmur.

Yerim gapes, taking in your face that’s just as gorgeous and breathtaking if not even more so than she remembers, and she sees that your eyes are still filled with their familiar troublemaking gleam. Tentatively Yerim reaches to touch you, slightly surprised to find she can feel your warm skin underneath her fingers.

“You’re actually here,” She laughs in amazement, tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

“Of course I am,” You say, grabbing Yerim’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze before your lips curve into a smirk. “Hey, when you stop crying can you sign my album?”

Yerim kicks you under the table. “You’re such a jerk.”

///

Yerim’s shoulder brushes against yours as the two of you walk quietly up the stairs that lead to Yerim’s dorm room. The fansign had ended over an hour ago and with Joohyun’s help, Yerim had been able to convince her manager to let her skip the rest of her schedule, allowing her to spend the remainder of the day with you.

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” You say finally as Yerim unlocks the door and ushers you inside, effectively breaking the silence that had previously settled between you and Yerim.

Yerim bites her lip, glancing up at you and noticing the guilty expression on your face. “It’s fine,” She says slowly, guiding you to her bed where she settles herself, motioning for you to do the same and trying her best to keep her voice even as she continues. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d be able to change my mind,” You mutter, your gaze becoming far off as you sit down beside Yerim.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yerim asks.

You look at Yerim, smiling slightly. “You’re still dumb as ever Kim Yerim,” You chuckle. “Do you remember Minhyung?”

“Mark?” Yerim nods her head. “Of course.”

“You never liked him did you?”

Yerim doesn’t respond causing you to laugh loudly.

“It’s okay,” You say quietly, leaning into Yerim’s side. “I didn’t like him either, at least not in the way I should’ve. Whenever I was with him I was always thinking of someone else. He told me to stay in Korea, but I didn’t listen,” You frown. “I actually ended up breaking up with him over it, but that’s not the point. The point is, I think that if that someone else I mentioned had told me to stay I would’ve, without a second thought. Even if they said the exact same thing Mark did.”

Yerim’s mouth goes dry as she stares at you, your words from earlier ringing in her ears, that she would’ve been able to change your mind. Yerim thinks of all the times you left lingering touches on her skin that she had never let herself believe were more than friendly. She thinks of how you’d always ask her to sleep in your bed when she’d stay over at your house, even when you were most definitely old enough to sleep alone. She thinks of the dozens of times you rejected Mark before you finally said yes, exactly a week after you kissed her, seemingly giving him a chance out of nowhere. “You weren’t drunk that night, were you?”

“When I kissed you?” You shrug. “No, at least not enough to not know what I was doing.“

Yerim isn’t sure how it happens, maybe it was all those wasted years of yearning manifesting themself, but suddenly she finds herself hovering over you, gently pressing you into the plush mattress as she moves her lips so tantalizingly close to yours that she can feel your uneven breaths tickling her skin. Yerim doesn’t dare close the gap though, instead searching your eyes for a sign to continue, and all it takes is your subtle nod for her to finally do what she’s been waiting to do for so long, capturing your lips in a kiss that she makes sure shows how long, how much, she’s wanted this, her body falling on top of yours as you pull her into you, and flip the two over so you’re straddling Yerim by her waist. Soft whines escaping Yerim as you run your tongue across her bottom lip, before pressing it into her mouth, tangling your hands amongst Yerim’s hair.

“You know I meant it,” You breathe out minutes later as much to Yerim’s distaste, you slowly pull away from her, rolling off her and onto your side, allowing Yerim to wrap a protective arm around your body as your head moves to rest on her shoulder.

Yerim glances down at you. “Meant what?”

“When I promised you we’d always be together,” You say with a small smile. “I’m transferring to a med school in Seoul this month.”

Yerim’s eyes widen. “I thought you forgot about that promise.”

“No way,” You murmur, reaching to caress Yerim’s cheek. “When it comes to you Kim Yerim, I’ll remember forever.”

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #red velvet x reader #red velvet imagines #yeri x reader #red velvet scenario #red velvet fluff #red velvet #yeri #yeri imagines #yeri scenarios #kim yerim #kim yerim x reader

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for the winter prompt fills... 24, ot4, sfw? i just feel like indrid's snowflakes would be stupidly intricate and bespoke but stern is so much more likely to get annoyed by it than duck would be

Here you go!

24: i’m absentmindedly making snowflakes in class and you’re the nerd who can’t quit glaring at me every time you hear my scissors

Joseph always finds the first day of the semester tedious at best; he reads any syllabus he’s sent, then has to spend at minimum an hour listening to the professor go over it again.

Thanks to the guy sitting two seats to his right, it’s now tedious AND aggravating. He’s tall, with dyed silver hair that he obviously did himself, his red glasses and worn, mostly black clothing suggesting someone who is in this class to fulfill a breadth requirement. That alone is not what aggravates him. It’s the fact the guy has been making paper snowflakes for the last forty five fucking minutes.

The snip snip snip is driving him up the wall. He knows people need to do different things to focus in class, but this is ridiculous. He glares every now and then, manages to keep his calm with the thought that the guy won’t be doing the same thing come Thursday.

When he is, Joseph glares a little more and resigns himself to a minor headache twice a week for the next ten weeks. Could he move? Yes, technically. But he likes sitting up front, and he’s not going to let the scissors win.

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

“It’s ridiculous! His whole room must be covered in snowflakes by now, if he does this in every class.”

“Maybe he just does it in yours? You said that lecturer isn’t the most, uh, engaging.” Barclay pulls on his coat, waving to Mama through the window of the Lodge; he’s moved from waiter to line chef at the small restaurant, and Joseph is so proud of him.

“Maybe. I’m sorry, everything is just so...much. Last year was miserable and it’s not as if the change of the calendar makes things better. It feels like it takes the littlest thing to set off my anxiety.”

Barclay pauses their walk down the street, pulling Joseph’s hand to draw him into a hug, “I’m sorry babe. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thanks. Think I’m mostly in the mood for a distraction.” Barclay is warm and smells faintly of onion and butter, and while they should avoid causing a traffic jam on the sidewalk, he decides to stay like this a few seconds longer.

“Good thing we’re having Duck and Indrid over for dinner tonight, then. I’m glad you’re finally getting to meet Indrid. He’s a weirdo, but he’s my kind of weirdo. Hope he’s yours too.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” They start back down the sidewalk towards the block of apartments where Barclay lives. Josephs met Duck a few times, usually at parties or group hangouts at the lodge. They bonded first over being in O-chem together, then over being trans, and now Joseph is always happy to see him when he walks into a party. He knows Duck is dating Barclay’s childhood friend, Indrid, but the other man having a semester abroad and working several jobs means Joseph hasn’t met him.

He cleans off and sets the table while Barclay starts fried rice for dinner. Grabs the just-knocked door as Barclay plates things up, only to come face to face with snowflake guy.

“Um”

“Hey Joe” Duck smiles at him from beside his silver-haired boyfriend, “this is Indrid. Indrid, this Joe. We ain’t too early, right?”

“No” he holds out a hand that Indrid shakes with a wide smile and an expression that indicates he has never seen Joseph before.

“It’s very nice to meet you, both Duck and Barclay speak highly of you.”

“Likewise.”

Dinner goes well, once Joseph stops going in mental circles and makes the decision to not breathe a word of the fact Indrid is the mad snowflake maker. Indrid is a bit odd and awkward, but eager dives into a discussion of UFO sightings when Joseph offhandedly mentions them, and blushes charmingly whenever Duck kisses him.

He also blushes when Barclay, in reply to a compliment about his cooking, says, “thanks, little moth.”

Joseph and Duck raise their eyebrows in sync.

“Explain.” Joseph says with a smirk.

“It, uh, it was a nickname I gave him when we were kids. He’s always been smaller than me, and he was really, and I mean really, into moths.”

“That ain’t all that different from now.” Duck loops an arm over Indrid’s shoulders. The taller man’s sweater hangs low around his neck, revealing at least two distinct moth tattoos.

“I have a not always been smaller. I was taller in fourth grade.”

Barclay chuckles, “fair enough.” He sips his water and then adds, “little moth.”

Indrid chucks his napkin at him, laughing.

It’s such a nice evening that Joseph forgets all about the snowflakes. That is, until Indrid sits down directly next to him on Tuesday.

“I thought I’d seen you before. What a coincidence.” Indrid takes out his notebook, spins a small ring on his finger, and smiles, “I’m glad we’ll have more chances to see each other.”

The tone feels almost flirtatious, but any appeal is instantly doused when he takes out scissors and a stenciled piece of paper. When he notices Joseph staring at the items, he cocks his head.

“Would you like to try making a snowflake? It’s very soothing.”

“I, um-”

“I have spare scissors.” Indrid pulls out another pair.

What the hell, it’s a five hundred person lecture hall. No one will notice if two of the five hundred people are making snowflakes. He takes the scissors, and Indrid smiles brighter.

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

It turns out the therapeutic nature of paper snowflakes isn’t the only suggestion Indrid has for him. Which is why Joseph is now in the campus rec center awaiting the start of a boxing class. Indrid said he might enjoy it, and Barclay encouraged him when he mentioned it. And he has been looking for ways to stay in shape.

“Fancy seein you here.” Duck, in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts, sets his bag down next to Joseph.

“So that’s why Indrid recommended this in spite of never doing it himself.”

Duck snickers, “Yeah, ‘Drid’s happy with his hot yoga, he tried comin with me once last semester and was so sore he swore off bein my gym buddy forever.”

“How’d you get into this at all?” He takes out his handwraps, starts trying to put the left one on.

“Minerva put me onto it, said it was good to have some cardio along with weight-liftin. Need some help?” He indicates the wrap that has quickly gone off the rails.

“Yes, please.” Joseph holds out his hand. Duck takes it, hold gentle but firm as he demonstrates the correct motions.

“Few different ways of doin’ it, this is the one Minerva taught me.”

“I see.” He does, and is able to replicate the pattern on his right hand, but he also sees why Indrid looks like a cat melting in the sun whenever Duck holds his hand.

Before his brain can careen down that track of thoughts, the class starts and all his focus goes to learning the proper stance, practicing ones and twos, and trying not to pass out from exhaustion. He;s not out of shape by any means, but the instructor does not mess around.

When they’re done and dismissed to stretch, Duck holds up a hand, “nice job, man.”

He’s down to his tank top, flushed and sweating as beams at Joseph. Suddenly, he feels like he could do a whole second class without breaking a sweat.

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

“All I’m gonna say is that if I pull a muscle doing this, you get to tell Mama why I can’t come in to work.” Barclay eyes the yoga mats suspiciously.

“I promise, we will start with an easy one. Besides, half the reason we’re doing this is because it can help with the sore muscles that come with repetitive physical work.” Indrid brings up a video on his laptop, then pats the empty mat next to his own.

Barclay sits down, crossing his legs to mimic Indrid’s position. He’d brought up the idea of them doing yoga together on the nights Duck and Joseph are boxing as a joke at first. All it took was the excited look on Indrid’s face for him to turn it into a serious suggestion. He’s never been able to resist making Indrid happy.

In many ways, his friendship eith Indrid was how Barclay learned that what he wanted to be, more than anything else, was comforting and safe to other people. His friend was skinny and awkward, at times downright skittish, but he’d dive under the covers and cuddle up next to Barclay in an instant. Even the hormones and awkward crushes of puberty couldn’t drive them apart. Barclay’s always attributed that to the fact he wasn’t attracted to Indrid when they were younger, nor Indrid to him.

No, his massive crush on Indrid emerged their first year of college. But Barclay was too unsure for the first semester and too busy deciding to drop out to be a cook for the second one to make a move. Then fell hard for Duck, and Barclay fell for Joseph not long after, and it seemed like everything worked itself out.

As he struggles to focus on the screen rather than his best friend’s ass, he realizes he spoke too soon.

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

“You’re not exclusive?” Joseph wipes his hands with a paper napkin. They’re grabbing a snack after their workout, the echoing Jamba Juice still preferable to eating out in the cold.

Duck shakes his head, mouth busy sucking the straw of his smoothie and making Joseph wonder if his cheeks hollow that same way when he blows Indrid.

“I wasn’t when I met him, was still datin a girlfriend. We ain’t felt the need to change it. Both of us feel like, if we wanna be exclusive, or one of us wants to date someone else, we’ll talk about it case by case.”

“That makes sense.” He feels the moment when all of Duck’s attention shifts to him.

“What about you and Barclay?”

“We’ve never really talked about it. I guess I...I’m happier with Barclay than I’ve ever been with anyone. If he wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn’t begrudge him that.”

“But would you be okay with it?” Duck’s drawl is softer now, and Joseph gets the sense he’s about to reach for his hand.

“I would. You’ve met him, the man has love to spare.”

“Comes with bein a big guy. Trust me, I’d know.” He winks at Joseph.

“Duck, you’re five’ six.”

“And built like a tank. Point is, you know what you want matters too, right Joe?”

What he wants? What he wants is to kiss Duck into the couch with Barclays arms around him while Indrid fucks the shorter man from behind. What he wants is to be with all of them. What he wants is too much.

“Right.”

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

“Indrid?”

“Yes, Barclay?”

“I hate you.”

A cackle rings out in the living room, Barclay unable to see it due to being in a pose that has them facing away from each other, “Nonsense, I’m your oldest friend.”

“Don’t care” he grunts as his leg twinges, “we’re getting a divorse. A friend divorce.”

“You wound me.”

Barclay growls, notices bare feet directly in his line of sight, “why are you-”

“Standing up like normal? Because the session ended while you were complaining.”

“Oh you little” Barclay pulls out of the pose, grabbing at the other man. Indrid hops back out of the way, only to trip over a shoe and fall onto his mat. He flips Barclay off with a grin, yelps when Barclay lunges forward and traps him with his body weight.

“Ooof, get off me, you menace.” Indrid laughs, shoving at him.

“Nah, this is strength training. For you.”

“If you’re relying on my upper body strength to end this, I hope you understand we live on the floor now.”

“Uhhhhhh” Says a voice from the other side of the couch. Duck and Joseph are standing side by side in their gym clothes.

“I feel like we missed something.” Joseph, in spite of his pink cheeks, doesn’t look angry.

“Barclay is expressing his displeasure with this particular yoga sequence. Not that I mind.” Indrid says from beneath him.

“Don’t seem in a hurry to get him off.”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, my sweet, no.”

He whips his head forward to stare down at Indrid. The other man smiles up at him, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I, uh, I-”

Indrid reaches up and strokes his beard, “Barclay, we’ve been friends a long time. I can spot when you have a crush on someone, myself included. I mentioned it to Duck a few weeks ago.”

“Which, uh, works out well on a couple levels.” Duck and Joseph step around the couch, holding hands, “assumin that’s okay with both of you.”

“You already know my feelings on the matter.” Indrid sends a far filthier grin Joseph’s way.

Barclay wants to jump for joy, but more than that he wants to be sure.

“Is this what you want, babe?”

Joseph nods, “If it’s not too much to ask.”

Barclay sits up, opening his arms and Joseph kneels into the hug, “No, babe, not at all. I love you, love Indrid too, and if he and Duck both wanna be with you, they’ll get no complaints from me, just a compliment as to their taste in men.”

His boyfriend nestles closer with a relieved sigh, Duck and Indrid settling on either side of Barclay. Joseph murmurs that they should make a chart to figure out the details of everything, and he agrees. But they can do that in a minute. Right now, the four of them can rest and enjoying being here. Together.

#winter fills #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #College AU #indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #agent stern/barclay #sternclay #duck newton/agent stern #agent stern/barclay/indrid cold/Duck newton #Indrid cold/Barclay #agent stern/Indrid Cold

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hedwigstalons · 3 years

Text

High Expectations - Ch23

Yes, this fic is still being written. No, it is not abandoned despite the *gulps* month since that last chapter went out.

@willow-salix has been her usual amazing self with the editing (and extra amazing for helping me through the stuff that has contributed to the huge gap in writing).

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One , Twenty-Two

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Twenty-Three

Thwack

Virgil’s eyes tracked the arc of the baseball as it made another short journey up towards the ceiling before landing in Alan’s waiting hands.

Thwack

He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the teen sprawled on his back on the couch. He knew Alan was only doing it to annoy him having been told he couldn’t start another game with the arrival of John imminent but it was taking all his willpower not to snap, he didn’t have the energy for the argument Alan was obviously spoiling for. As soon as the missing sibling turned up they would be settling down for dinner and Virgil had decided he would rather deal with a bored Alan than try and drag him away from whatever virtual world he was immersed in when the time came to eat. Except the expected ten minutes had already ticked closer to an hour and John still hadn’t appeared.

Thwack

It didn’t make the actions of his brother any less annoying in the meantime. It certainly didn’t help that he had a test to study for. Where had Alan even managed to get a baseball from in the first place?

Thwack

The door to the small apartment he shared with John clicked open and Virgil audibly sighed with relief as his immediate younger brother finally showed up. He closed up his books, giving the page a baleful glance as he did so; he hadn’t taken in a word in the last half hour and knew time was running out.

“Fiiiiiinally.” Alan caught the ball with one last thwack and sat up, popping the ball on the seat next to him. “Virg said you would be back by six.”

“Sorry,” John looked sheepishly at the clock that was now ticking closer to 7pm, “I got held up on campus but I treated us to take out take out to make up for it.”

Alan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of food. Delicious smells were wafting from the paper bag John carried and his stomach rumbled. Take out was a rare treat, hell, even eating in company was a rare treat; their father was increasingly slipping back into bad habits and didn’t often make it back in time for dinner. Since his shift to online school he could sometimes go three or four days without seeing another human being unless he ventured out of the apartment, it was one of the reasons he could be found so frequently on John and Virgil’s couch.

“What have we got, Chinese?” Alan asked.

“No, Thai. There is a nice little place two blocks away that does an amazing spicy shrimp soup and their pad thai is pretty decent too.”

“You went to the Mango Tree?” Virgil’s mood lifted at the prospect.

“Yes, I went to Mango Tree. Don’t expect me to do this every time, I just thought you could do with a pick me up seeing as exams are on the horizon and I don’t think we’ve introduced Alan to it yet. Plus, I’m late.” he said, placing the bag on the table on his way past to the kitchen.

The Thai place, a little gem they had discovered within their first month at Tracy College, had become a firm favourite but one reserved for special occasions, or apologies in the case of tonight. Virgil was quick to clear away his files to make space on the table that was currently doubling up as a desk and by the time John returned with an assortment of spoons, forks and chopsticks, the containers were already laid out.

Alan wandered over to claim his place between his two siblings, feeling guilty at the reminder that Virgil was meant to be studying for exams. He knew his actions had been irritating, he’d even been deliberately varying the gaps between his throws so Virgil couldn’t get used to the rhythm, but he was bored and it hurt that yet another person couldn’t be bothered to show up when they were meant to.

"So how are you getting on with freight transport law?" John asked between slurps of his soup.

"Slowly," Virgil growled, casting a frown towards Alan who at least had the good grace to look shamefaced.

The interaction didn’t pass unnoticed by John who directed his own frown at Alan. While the other brothers had, in turn, taken on the holistic care of Alan, John was more focussed on his education, especially knowing Alan’s determination to head into space one day. Finding out that Alan had transferred to online school had been a surprise but to find out it had followed a bout of truancy had left him furious. He wasn’t prepared to let Alan screw up his education and he certainly wasn’t going to let him drag Virgil down either, he knew this exam had been weighing heavily on his brother’s mind and the last thing he needed was unnecessary distractions.

“Didn’t you have any work to be getting on with?” John asked the recalcitrant teen.

Alan tried to stare John down but found that his most introverted sibling had learnt to hold his own under scrutiny, at least where family were concerned. He dropped his gaze on the pretext of picking a piece of chicken out of his pad thai and tried to sound nonchalant. “I’m ahead of myself so I took the day off.”

“That’s no reason to disturb others, Virgil and I both have some key exams coming up and you need to respect that if you want to keep coming here. And anyway, there’s no such thing as being ahead of yourself on your study programme, I know you picked one that lets you submit work at any time and complete your diploma at whatever pace you want.”

“Was hoping you’d be here,” the voice was small and dejected, all the fight gone before it could properly build. He didn’t really want to argue with his brothers but sometimes it felt like the only way to be noticed was by challenging authority. He was never going to win a gold medal, unlikely to win a scholarship and certainly wasn’t going to get military honours. With those more admirable routes to gaining attention taken away from him that just left being a problem; he had to remember that his brothers were not like his father and he could actually talk to them without needing to be summoned first.

John watched Alan visibly wilt under his gaze, crushed by the force of his disapproval and it took a moment for the words to sink in. The others had occasionally joked about Alan being his shadow or asked what it was like to be up on a pedestal but he usually shrugged it off. Now, hearing that simple hope voiced with such longing John was reminded that it wasn’t entirely a joke, that of all of them Alan strived for his attention and approval the most and with that came great responsibility.

“I know and I’m really sorry. The guy leading the seminar today was an expert in broad spectrum communication arrays and I wanted to run some ideas by him. I’ve been working on some theories on multi-frequency monitoring and didn’t know when I would get another chance to talk to him.” He paused, realising he was babbling in his attempt to make Alan see that this had been important, that he hadn’t wanted to be late and really did care. But Alan didn’t need his excuses, what he needed was his brothers. He took a sip of water and refocused his attentions. “Look, I don’t have any classes until 12 tomorrow so we can do something together in the morning. In the afternoon you can either stay here and do your own work or come with me and sit in on my lectures.”

“It’s not freight law is it? Cos that stuff sounds dull as anything.” He knew John was trying to make up for being late home and ordinarily he would have jumped at the chance to gatecrash some lectures but he was still hurting and not ready to forgive him so quickly. “I really don’t get why Virgil is even getting his space licence anyway, let alone for transport pilot.”

Both John and Virgil decided to ignore that comment. Alan had grown up a lot lately but they both knew he had always viewed space as the personal domain of himself and John and was still prone to the occasional flare of jealousy that Virgil was getting space rated too, seemingly on a whim. The news of Virgil’s first trip into orbit had been greeted with a flare of temper that saw Alan rejecting all calls for a week.

“I don’t have to take that one, although I do have a few units of my own I could do without. No, tomorrow is nutrition and physiology.” He noted the eye roll that suggested Alan wasn’t enthused with those topics either. “There’s no need to decide now, just see how you feel tomorrow, but you can’t spend all afternoon on video games , if you stay home you’ll need to get some school work done or Dad might stop you from staying over.”

Alan knew that was an empty threat. As long as he kept turning in grade cards at regular intervals and was on track to finish his diploma no later than if he had been in school then he was fairly confident their father wouldn’t even think of banning the trips to Kansas. If anything he seemed to be keen to have Alan out of town as much as possible as his overseas business trips became more frequent.

The prospect of getting to spend at least the following morning with John lifted Alan’s mood considerably and the rest of the meal passed without incident.

xoxoxox

John quietly pushed open Virgil’s door. The light spilled out, momentarily lighting up the tousle haired figure on the couch before it was blocked by John as he quickly slipped inside, leaving the door ajar behind him. He took in the piles of notes on the desk and the bucket sized mug beside them, now empty of the coffee he knew it would have contained.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, perching on the edge of the bed that really ought to be occupied already.

Virgil spun his chair around. “No, thanks, it’s not difficult, just tedious.”

This was something John could empathise with. While they each had a different specialism and focus to their course, both had encountered topics that less than thrilled them; for Virgil freight transport law was a topic he was unable to feel enthusiastic about but it was a necessary component to his studies.

“Working through the night isn’t going to help.”

“I need to make up the time, I didn’t get much studying done earlier.”

“Alan?” John rolled his eyes in a way that suggested this was a statement rather than a question. The attitude over dinner had shown that Alan had been in a bad mood and he knew that Virgil was too soft to just put the teen in his place.

Virgil nodded then yawned, space law wasn’t a thrilling topic at the best of times and his focus was distinctly wavering. The effects of the coffee were wearing off and, much as he would like another, the coffee maker was loud and he didn’t want to risk waking the teenager currently sleeping in their living area.

“Why didn’t you just work in here?” To John it made absolutely no sense that his brother had set up at the dining table when he had a perfectly good desk in his own room where he could have gotten on with his work in peace as he was doing now.

“Couldn't you feel how much he wants our attention? He may have been a pain in the ass but I couldn’t disappear and ignore him when he’s only just got here. I’ve got time. The exam isn’t ‘til Thursday, I can study once he’s asleep.”

“Not tonight you aren't ,” John frowned as yet another yawn escaped his sibling, “and you haven’t been ignoring him, Alan said you took him flying this morning. Have you gotten any studying done today?”

“Not enough,” Virgil groaned, casting another glance at the scribbles on permitted loads and which cargoes needed to be registered with the Space Authority prior to launch. While his study time may have taken a hit he didn’t regret taking his youngest brother flying, the pure joy Alan exhibited while in the air was a world away from the loneliness he had confessed to on the ride back from the airfield. “But at least Alan still wants to talk to me.”

“Still nothing from Scott?” John sighed. He could see how much the growing distance between his two oldest brothers was preying on Virgil’s mind; freight transport law really didn’t stand a chance.

“Nothing worth mentioning.” He raked a hand through his hair in an action that had John raising an eyebrow. Virgil squirmed slightly under the gaze that suddenly seemed far too knowing and he was reminded that, while John might be guarded about his own emotions, that didn’t mean he wasn’t observant to the moods of others. He really didn’t want to be unloading all his concerns onto John, it was part of the unwritten code of older brothers to not burden the younger ones, but with his usual outlet and sounding board going awol being one of his issues he found himself leaning on his next in line.

“I’m worried about him,” Virgil confided, “we used to talk all the time but now I’m lucky if I can keep him on the line for three minutes at a time and my messages go unanswered for days.”

“Perhaps he’s just talking to Gordon more, ever since the whole WASP thing those two have been a lot closer.”

“Maybe, but since Gordon started on the bathyscape he’s been pretty busy. That’s one of the things Alan was telling me ; Gordon used to check in with him every couple of days but since taking command and starting his course he’s really cut back on contact. I’m worried that Scott isn’t talking to any of us. There is something going on and I don’t like it; you know how he can be when something’s bothering him.”

John had never had the kind of bond with Scott that Virgil had but he knew well enough that Virgil’s instincts for these things were generally to be trusted. It was almost uncanny how Virgil was able to sense upset and tension in his brothers and more than once during his time at Harvard John had found himself on the receiving end of a well timed holo-call or care package.

“Do you think it’s Dad?” While John might not have been explicitly confided in before he certainly wasn’t stupid, he’d picked up on the tone of his brothers’ calls before the topic of the future had become verboten. Even if he hadn’t there was no ignoring that fact that Scott hadn’t been attending the scheduled group calls with their father and the ire this raised despite Jeff’s thinly veiled attempts to brush Scott’s absences off as down to unavoidable Air Force commitments. It didn’t take a genius to work out that relations between Scott and their father had become strained.

“Could be. You know well enough that Dad still won’t even consider a plan that doesn’t have Scott as field commander, he talks like it’s a done deal and I know Scott hates that, he feels like he’s had all free will stripped away. If Dad has been getting at him again that would certainly be getting him down.” Virgil picked up his mug and tipped it back, grimacing when it only yielded a few cold and bitter drips, before setting it back down heavily. God he needed more caffeine but he wasn’t quite ready to resort to the emergency energy drink stashed in his desk and he had a suspicious feeling John wouldn’t let him have it anyway. He turned back to the problem in hand; now he’d started confiding in John he may as well keep going. “Thing is, that doesn’t explain why Scott has started avoiding me. I’ve been careful not to mention the whole business to him, I’ve had my head chewed off too many times and since Scott made it perfectly clear he isn’t joining we just agreed to not talk about it. No, I think there is something else going on, something more than just Dad, but he keeps shutting me out.”

“Try not to worry about Scott for now, or at least not until after Thursday. At the moment all you need to focus on is that exam.”

Virgil cast a rueful glance at the hated notes. He knew John was right, once the freight law was out of the way he could throw his energies at distant siblings a lot more freely, or at least he could until the next exam came along. The problem was, without Scott on the team, he wasn’t wholly convinced that the exam was going to mean anything. .

“Do you think we can do it? I mean really make it work. Cos with only the three of us I just can’t see how it'll be possible. Even with Scott it would be a stretch but without him…” he tailed off, unwilling to say out loud what he was really feeling, that the whole thing was a fool's errand. No amount of good intentions and determination would be enough to run the outfit successfully with just him, John and their father.

John could understand his doubts. He had plenty of them himself, none of which had been dispelled by the many calculations he had run, trying to find some tiny shred of evidence that said the dream could indeed be made reality. Looking at it logically he knew their father’s vision was an impossible fantasy but it was a fantasy he wanted to believe in. He wanted to live among the stars and the venture was nothing if not noble.

The notes on freight law lay abandoned on the desk as the brothers continued to talk through their fears, hopes and dreams, unaware that the figure in the next room wasn’t quite as asleep as they thought.

Xoxoxox

“So, what’s International Rescue?”

There was a splutter as John half choked on a spoonful of granola. Virgil set the coffee pot down on the counter and carefully schooled his features to a neutral expression before turning to face his brother.

“What was that, Al?”

“You heard me,” the nonchalance of the original question now gone, Alan’s voice was aggressive and challenging. “International Rescue.”

Virgil darted a look at John but found no help there, the latter was still wiping tears from his eyes having finally dislodged the clump of oats. Any hope of passing it off as nothing had been dashed by John’s unfortunate and very obvious reaction to the question. He sighed, reclaimed the coffee pot, and brought the whole jug over to the table. There was no way he was facing this conversation without caffeine and he had a feeling he was going to need more than one cup.

“You want me to get you some water?”

John gave another cough and shook his head. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Are either of you going to answer me or are you just going to ignore me like Dad does?” Alan was bristling with indignation which was coming across with a brattish pout.

“I’m not ignoring you, I just...you threw me, that all. How did you find out?”

“I heard you two talking last night.”

Virgil poured himself a mug of coffee and quickly drained half of it, despite it still being scalding hot. The thought that this was a problem of his own making settled like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. He tried to remember just what he and John had talked about, he knew there had been a lot both about International Rescue and the family in general, and he wondered how much Alan had overheard. “We thought you were asleep.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

“Look, it’s not that we don’t want to tell you it’s just Dad forbade us from talking about it.” Indecision and worry played out across Virgil’s features at the prospect of defying a direct order.

“Gordon made you promise you would tell him.” John cut in, a little unhelpfully in Virgil’s opinion. “If he heard us talking last night he may as well hear the full story, now is as good a time as any.”

Alan had heard Scott’s name crop up last night but Gordon hadn’t been mentioned in relation to whatever this mysterious plan was. Discussions on Gordon had been limited to WASP and the course he was doing with CalTech from what he had heard. The knowledge that the entire family was hiding something from him, including the brother he thought he could trust the most, came as a bitter blow, resentment that had been building for some time came crashing out.

“Gordon knows too?" he clarified, not wanting to believe it. "I hate this family sometimes, I hate that I’m just some afterthought. I thought Gordon was different, I thought he cared. Guess I was wrong.” Alan could see the hurt he was causing as the words hit Virgil like a whip, but he was too angry to care., if anything it felt good to see his brother feeling the same pain that he was.

“That’s not true, Alan, ” Virgil assured him, trying to soothe some of the hurt that was bubbling out of his youngest brother. “Gordon does care, we all do.”

“Yeah, well you’ve got a funny way of showing it. I’m always the last to know everything, it’s like I’m some massive inconvenience. I might as well just pack my stuff and get out of your hair.”

Alan pushed his chair back from the table with a scrape and started grabbing the belongings he had discarded around the room over the course of his short visit, shoving them into the open duffel bag at the end of the couch. He could deal with the others knowing stuff but Gordon was different. It had hurt so much that Gordon hadn’t confided in him about WASP and now it seemed that he had been betrayed again. Gordon had made that transition into adulthood, someone worth telling stuff to, and he was still some kid to be kept in the dark. Alone.

“Alan, please, it’s really not like that.” Virgil was after him like a shot, grabbing his brother’s arm in an attempt to halt the furious packing. The blue eyes that spun to face him contained a mix of tears and venom.

Alan tried to pull away, embarrassed at the emotion he couldn’t control, but hearing that Gordon had been keeping secrets again had stabbed him in the heart. The hand on his arm became a full on bear hug and Alan found himself wrapped in solid muscle with no hope of escape. He struggled for a moment then stilled, giving up on his attempt to get free.

Virgil never loosened his hold, warm and comforting, and Alan soon found himself returning the hug; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been held like this and hadn’t realised how much he missed the human contact. He became vaguely aware of an extra hand on his shoulder and unburied his head enough to see that John had joined them.

“Believe me, Alan, we’ve wanted to tell you. Gordon especially made it quite clear you shouldn’t be frozen out of all this but Dad was adamant that you weren’t to be told. No matter what Dad says we were going to tell you once Virgil qualified but I think we need to bring that forward.” There was total honesty in John’s eyes as he held his brother’s gaze.

Alan was slightly mollified that there had at least been a plan among his brothers to bring him into the loop and he could feel the sincerity in his brother's words. He was increasingly quick to anger at the injustices of being the youngest, more so now that he didn’t have Gordon around to share in the same treatment, but he knew deep down that his main antagonist was their father with his draconian rules. If their father had expressly forbidden something, rather than just choosing not to mention it, then he knew he was putting Virgil and John in an incredibly difficult position; witnessing Gordon’s defiance and their father’s reaction to it had shown that he wasn’t beyond making life intensely difficult for those who dared to disobey.

Feeling that the tension had at least partially ebbed out of his youngest brother’s body Virgil loosened his grip and sat down on the couch, inviting Alan to take the seat next to him. Ever thoughtful, John reclaimed the coffee pot and mugs from the table and set them up on the coffee table before grabbing a spare seat.

“I think it’s time we brought you up to speed. There are some big changes ahead although even we don’t know when anything is going to happen. And John’s right, Gordon isn’t to blame for this at all. We were shocked when he said you guys never got warned before the move to LA and we promised you’d never get another upheaval like that.”

“I’ve gotta move again?” As much as Alan had no great fondness for LA he also wasn’t keen on the idea of uprooting yet again, setting up goodness knows where, which sounded very much like where this conversation was headed. At least this time he wouldn’t have to worry about integrating into a new school.

“WE are going to move. I’m not sure when, but yeah, Dad’s setting up somewhere new. Once I get my space rating I’ll be moving back to LA then, a year later, when he’s finished his course, John’s going to be joining us, wherever we happen to be at the time.”

Alan looked across at John and received a slight nod of confirmation. “Yeah, I’ll be coming home too, at least until my space station is ready.”

Alan’s eyes widened.

“John, are you sure…?”

John just rolled his eyes at Virgil. “Believe me, it’s better to tell him everything than have him guessing, or worse hunting for the information himself.”

Virgil still looked unconvinced but decided to follow John’s lead. When the news had come out about Alan hacking the school administration systems he had been shocked at the youngest Tracy’s disregard for rules but John had merely shrugged and commented that he would probably have done the same. John had been more disappointed that Alan had been skipping school, the rest of the duplicitous behaviour hadn’t phased him and Virgil had received a surprising and uncomfortable insight into a shared characteristic of the two brothers currently sat with him. If John thought unanswered questions would lead to Alan seeking out the details for himself then he would much rather tell all. If their father found out this conversation was happening they would all be in serious trouble but if Alan was caught attempting to go through their father’s files, well, Virgil didn’t want to imagine the consequences of that.

“I guess you’re right, I mean the whole idea can only work if we trust each other and that means total honesty.”

The coffee went cold as Virgil, aided by John, told Alan all he could about their father’s vision for a rescue organisation with global capabilities, the aircraft currently being designed and the supporting vehicles and equipment that would be used on site to help those in need, and of course the need to relocate to a suitable base.

The conversation became decidedly trickier when it came to detailing the role each brother was expected to take in the organisation. Much as Virgil would have preferred to leave out the growing rift that was opening up between Scott and their father, there was no escaping the fact that the plans were not progressing smoothly.

He reached the end and waited, unsure how Alan would react.

“So this is why you’re doing this course , so you can help get John get to his monitoring station or whatever it is?”

“Yeah, and to help take stuff up there before things go operational.” Trust Alan to latch on to the space flight parts of the whole set-up, Virgil just hoped Alan would be less jealous of him getting space rated now he knew why it was happening. Until now he had never been able to give a decent answer for his sudden change in direction away from engineering. Despite Alan trying to hide it if it meant he could escape LA and come visit, he knew his brother resented what he saw as an intrusion on the domain he viewed as his and John’s alone. “Beyond supply runs I doubt I’ll be heading into space much. Life on the comms satellite doesn’t appeal to me so I’m hoping I won’t have to do too many rotations.”

“But Scott doesn’t want in?”

“Uh huh. John and I have been trying to figure out how it could work without him because Dad is just ploughing on regardless. He’s convinced Scott’s going to just resign his commission and fall into line the moment he gives the order.”

“I think I’ll make myself scarce when that showdown happens.” Alan hadn’t often witnessed Scott and their father butt heads, those sorts of disagreements tended to happen firmly behind closed doors, but he could easily imagine the two clashing, each as stubborn and determined as the other.

“Probably wise,” replied John. “And you can't let Dad know we’ve been speaking about this or we’ll all be on the receiving end of those fireworks.”

“Don’t worry about that, that would involve Dad actually talking to me and he barely even registers that I exist.”

That earned a frown from Virgil who was suddenly even more glad that he only had a couple more months left at Tracy College. With Gordon forging a new life in WASP he’d made a solemn promise to look out for Alan but what with the demands of his course and his worries over Scott, he realised he hadn’t been paying as much attention as he should. He certainly hadn’t realised their father had gotten quite so distant and aloof with the teen again. Still, in two months time he would be back in LA where he could give his brother some proper attention. In the meantime his freight law notes were beckoning; if he failed the exam and didn’t achieve his space rating then International Rescue would be even more of an impossible pipedream.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Alan Tracy

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ajoy3fanfics · 3 years

Text

101 Ways to shut Granger up 2/?

Find it on AO3!

Fifth Year - Summer

For a long time, it wasn’t more than a few fantasies. Innocent, by most standards. A heated kiss, enough to keep her tongue occupied, always throwing her off-kilter. The times he dared to think about something more, he wouldn’t last. He needed it to be that way. He felt ashamed of thinking of a mudblood the way he did. Felt ashamed for thinking of a classmate who despised him panting into his mouth.

But as time wore on, the nights seemed longer, lonelier. Draco’s thoughts would race back at the manor, picking apart conversations, the expectations thrust on his shoulders. How many times did he toss and turn under the covers, lost in his own head? The only thing that seemed to take it away was her. Desperate.

It was easier to deny his attraction at Hogwarts. It was rational to have her fill his mind back at school. She was at the top of their class. Always contributing, voicing her opinions. Best friends with Potter, who naturally caught attention, she was forced into the limelight with him. It made sense that she clouded his thoughts and judgment when they were so near each other.

It was different now. He had spent his summer back home at the manor, far from the influence of Hermione. And still, he couldn’t get her out of his head. Was she spending the summer at the Burrow? Cuddled up with Weasley, unsupervised from all the chaos in that shack? Was Weasley making moves while Draco took tea with his mother's friends?

During the day he whipped up more scenarios than he could count, thinking of all the ways she could wind up at his doorstep, find her way to his bed. At night, alone with his thoughts, he would slide his hand under the covers, beneath the band of his briefs. He imagined the jerky movements of his hands belonged to her, and the thought alone was enough to have him moaning into his green silk pillows.

~.~

Once he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to have her, there was no turning back. The first time he had felt ashamed, guilty. He imagined it rough, fast-paced. An explosion of hatred and sexual tension, all colliding between her thighs.

But it didn’t stay that way.

Draco became greedy. Became hungry to know what sounds she would make, how she would arch her back. Would she come with a scream or a gasp?

What would it be like if he moved his hands to her shoulders, slim and tanned? He would take his time, let his fingers run over her collarbone, stoke their way down lower, lower. He would tease her, play with the hem of her sweater before he slowly bunched it up, gathered the material in his hands, and lifted it over her head. Her curls would fall around her, wild. He liked them that way, missed seeing them so unruly. He would thread his fingers through those curls, knot a handful at the back of her head, exposing her neck. What he wouldn’t give to lick down that long column, taste the sweat on her skin, gently pulling the white straps of her bra down her arms.

The more he looked at Granger, the more certain he was about her proportions. Large, but not overly so. He had imagined them so much he could practically feel their weight in his hands. He was sure they were firm, positive that once he freed her breasts he would uncover pink, perky nipples.

He hadn’t even had a real taste, but he was addicted.

~.~

Summer felt fragile. It was wrapped in sunshine, sweets, and select company, but it felt like rot underneath. Draco knew the pressure was building; something was going to happen, he just wasn’t sure what. He waited for it every day, like a winding coil that would inevitably snap. It made him tense, anxious.

Draco tried to get out, stay active. The lush landscape of the property was easy to get lost in, easy to appreciate. When his new cleansweep arrived, he flew high above the grounds, testing its speed and precision, but it quickly lost its appeal. It was lonesome to fly alone. Isolated. Mostly, he spent his days tucked away in the library, lost in a mountain of books, finding company between the pages.

As he would sink into the leather seats, an old book in his hands, he wondered what Hermione would think of his library. If she would be impressed by the range of books, the ancient texts that were not even found at Hogwarts.

Most of all, he wondered what she was doing with her days.

~.~

When Crabbe and Goyle owled for a visit, Draco had put it off for as long as possible. Draco was hesitant to name them friends, and despite their long history of summertime get-togethers, he always dreaded it. At school, Crabbe and Goyle acted as his lackeys- clung to his side because it made them feel powerful, important. It was nice to have an entourage, but that didn’t mean he wanted to vacation with them either.

He had told his mother as much, but she simply remarked that it was rude to refuse a visit. When Draco tried to plead his case, reminding her that they were twists, she smiled sweetly.

“Mr. Crabbe and Mr.Goyle are old friends. It would be unseemly to snub their sons.”

Draco groaned, “That’s how I ended up stuck with them in the first place, mother.”

“We all make sacrifices for the greater good, dear.”

The two traveled together, as they usually did. Draco wondered if one could survive without the other. They showed up bright and early, eager to share their arsenal of gossip. Draco had led them to the outside sitting area, counting down the minutes until it was socially acceptable for them to leave.

“You heard that Potter keeps talking about him?” Goyle asked. “The loon keeps telling people he’s alive!”

Crabbe laughed, large cheeks puffing. “I’d like to see him get ahold of Potter, teach him a lesson or two!”

Draco nodded, half-listening to what the two said. It was his default mode when it came to the duo.

“Don’t know how he can show his face at school. Making such a damn spectacle! I’d drop out if I was him. ” Crabbe said, stuffing a cracker in his mouth.

“Granger wouldn’t let him.” Goyle offered. “Probably give him a spanking if he missed a class.” He laughed like he said something witty. Draco felt his muscles tense, felt the sneer snap into place.

“Don’t talk about such vile things.” He leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms.

“Come on now,” Goyle leaned back, crossing his arms as well. “Everyone knows Granger and Potter are together. Even Skeeter picked up on that.”

The rest of the visit passed by in a blur as Draco categorized all the new reasons he hated Harry Potter.

~.~

Draco had it on very good authority that Saint Potter was being questioned for use of unauthorized magic. It wasn’t enough to break every rule in school, but apparently the boy who lived thought he was above the rules outside of the stone walls. Serves him right, after all the fuss he made at the end of the last term.

He who must not be named back, indeed.

Potter had not made it a secret that he thought a certain dark wizard was back from the dead. Draco was sure that it was another stunt, positive that Potter wanted the spotlight yet again. He was making up stories- had to be.

Still, when he had returned home to the manor, he had reluctantly asked his mother if the whispers were true. She leveled him with a cold look and reminded him that well-bred gentlemen do not repeat rumors.

~.~

The letter came at breakfast announcing that he was a prefect. His father gave only the smallest acknowledgment of the achievement, hardly looking up from his paper as Draco read the news out loud.

It was expected that he would be a prefect. Never was a question, really; It would be unacceptable if there was any other outcome. His father reminded him once again how embarrassing it was to lose first place to that mudblood Granger. He took a sip of his tea as he mentioned that head boy was the next rank.

Draco nodded, taking a small bite of his toast, a long silence following.

“Any word on who your female counterpart will be?” His father asked,

“Pansy,” Draco answered. “She owled yesterday.”

“Hmm.” Luscious gracefully folded his paper, placing it down on the long table, finally giving Draco his full attention. “Curious that you did not receive news first. Hm?”

“Yes father.”

“Probably Dumbledore trying to make an example of the Malfoy name.” He spat, “Trying to show the wizarding world that the Malfoys can wait.”

Draco swallowed, unsure what to say. “Sounds like something the old bag would do. I’m sure Potter’s letter was the first to go out.”

Lucious smiled. “Thanks to Potter’s little stunt, he will not be made a prefect. He’s lucky to find himself still enrolled.”

Finally, some justice in the universe. “Serves him right. Can’t imagine how he took that blow.”

“To be a fly on the wall.” Lucious picked up his teacup again but paused before he brought the china to lips. “Who else would be in the running?”

Draco thought for a moment, sifting through the possible Gryffindors. “Dean, maybe. Possibly Longbottom.”

“No doubt Ms.Granger will be a prefect herself, will she not?”

“I’d think so. If anyone likes a rule more than her, I don’t fancy meeting them.” He sneered as if trying to imagine someone more uptight than Granger. “I’m sure she’ll be taking house points away in her sleep.”

It felt natural to talk about her, easy. Talking about Hermione made the conversation flow in a way it had not all morning. It was not lost on Lucious.

“Well, you must put her to shame then, eh? Be the strictest prefect in the history of the school. Now is not a time to have loose morals. The school is already overrun with mudbloods. Even the half-bloods seem less… civilized… than before.”

“Yes, father.” He nodded, excusing himself shortly after.

He spent the rest of the afternoon picturing what it would be like to be a prefect with Granger. There would be meetings- long, tedious meetings. They would patrol at the same times, maybe even have the same rounds. He would be subjected to hearing her take points and lecture all year long. The witch was hard to handle in the best of times. Now that she was to be given a small amount of power, he could only imagine what she would be like. How would he ever get her to shut up and get a moment's peace?

As he envisioned running into her on rounds, the two of them alone, he managed to think up a few ways.

~.~

The next few days were spent in his room, imagination running wild. He dreamed up scenarios that would never happen, never be. Things that were against the very rules they were tasked to enforce.

But what if he caught her in the halls one night? Found her alone, after curfew. Maybe she was checking up on the first years, making sure they were not stepping out of line. He’d find her in the dimly lit corridor, the torchlight glowing on her olive skin.

“I’ll have to dock house points.” He’d say.

She’d look at him defiantly, chocolate eyes burning into his. “You’re not allowed to take house points from another prefect, Malfoy.” She’d say.

He’d lean in, lips grazing her ear as he would whisper, “Maybe we can work something out?”

Merlin, he hoped they could work something out.

~.~

Draco had pinned his silver prefect badge to his robes bright and early, combed his hair back, and checked his reflection three times before he was satisfied. It was decidedly not to look good for her. That would be absurd.

Stepping foot on the train again felt like a relief. He had never considered Hogwarts home- the manor had always treated him well- but the atmosphere felt less charged, a little more normal.

Potter was finally getting the cold shoulder from the student body. It seemed like the crowd parted for him at the platform, everyone eager to put a wide berth between themselves and the person who called Voldermort by name.

On the plus side, he caught his first glimpse of Granger in several months. It was quick, fleeting. At first, he only saw the back of her as she boarded the train, chestnut curls pinned back. Sweet.

He had only passed her once after that, brushing shoulders as they moved in opposite directions down the aisle. Her brown eyes roamed his face quickly, and she nodded in acknowledgment as she squeezed to the side. He felt the knot in his stomach ease for the first time since he left.

It was immediately replaced by a feeling of repulsion when he saw Weasley patrolling, a shiny silver badge pinned like his. Draco's mood was instantly soured.

~.~

Umbridge seemed to see right through Potter. It felt like a victory to finally have a teacher hold him accountable. Snape never hid his opinions on Potter, but he never delivered a punishment quiet as Umbridge did.

She seemed to have a distaste for Granger too. Hermione seems less worried about herself, and more focused on Saint Potter. Every time Draco managed to steal a look her way, her brow was furrowed, her lip between her teeth again.

On the one hand, he felt validated to have Umbridge on his side. On the other, he hated to see the way it affected the witch at his side.

“You have to tell someone Harry.” He heard her whisper. Afraid, almost. If Hermione Granger could be afraid.

He tried to ignore the pit in his stomach. She was probably being over-cautious, over dramatic. She tended to be that way when it came to Tweedledee and Tweedledum. But she kept looking at Potter with those pleading eyes, ripping his hand out of her grasp as he shoved his sleeves down.

Fear was a shade he didn’t like on her.

~.~

He couldn't even say she was as much of a know it all as she had been. She still was the first person to be called on and had an answer and opinion for everything, but it was less obnoxious than before. But then she would say something that would set off the duo at her sides, light the ignition to fire. She didn’t dominate the conversation, but sparked it. Weasley would get loud, Potter would draw attention. And she would be in the middle of it- meditating, trying not to laugh, placing her hand on their shoulders.

She was laughing now, seated by her friends in the great hall. What could be so amusing that she would throw her head back like that? Cover her face with her hands, almost embarrassed. It wasn't exaggerated or loud, wasn’t done in a way that would draw attention. It was private, shared with the people who surrounded her, but still, he saw it, experienced it all. She smiled as she moved her palms up, running her fingers through the mountains of curls, and Draco found it hard to stop staring. She was so open, so expressive. She hit Weasley on the arm playfully, and the dolt smiled lopsidedly. The way he grinned at her made it clear that there was something there, something he wanted between the two. Potter looked on with an amused expression as he sipped his tea. Draco felt anger boil inside of him. Since when did Weasley have anything interesting to say? Since when was Granger that funny? Since when did she laugh that way? He wished she would stop. Wished he could pluck her out of the small cocoon she was in, wipe the smile right off her face, make her stop laughing at Weasley that way-

Kiss Granger to shut her up. Kiss Granger to make her fucking stop.

It was less about shutting her up. More about getting Weasley's hands off her.

Maybe he could do those things. Storm over to the Gryffindor table, lift her from her seat, and pull her away from them. Leave Weasley behind, face burning red as his idiotic hair. Drag her down the hall, into an empty room. Dark, hardly lit. Just bright enough to see her chest heaving, lips parted-

Brown eyes caught blue, startled him out of his thoughts. He scowled, trying to mask his surprise, then quickly turned to Pansy. He leaned down, cutting the witch off mid-sentence, and kissed her breathless. It was wrong to do, to use Pansy the way he was. Still, as Draco angled his potion, he cut his eyes towards the Gryffindor table, just to confirm. She had turned away, a pretty blush on her cheeks. As he dipped lower to kiss Pansy, he couldn’t help but wonder how she would taste.

~.~

If there was ever a mystery that Draco Malfoy would never unravel, it was why Granger gave Weasley a second of her time.

And why, for the love of Merlin, did she look like she was about to cry every time a witch in a short skirt caught his eye?

~.~

She looked tired, stressed. He feels it, too. Umbridge has pinned a shiny new badge on him, just as she pins tedious new decrees to the cobblestone walls. It was fun, at first, being a part of the inquisitorial squad. Fun to be given power. Validating, to be recognized for his merits, while Saint Potter was seen for what he was.

Bittersweet to see it taking such a toll on her. Not that he would admit it in a thousand years. Not even under the influence of veritaserum would he tell a soul that he worried about Hermione Granger in his free time.

~.~

Draco Malfoy was decidedly not stalking Hermione Granger. And if he was, so was everyone else who walked to potions, then to the great hall, followed by the library. And after that, straight to the Gryffindor staircase. So it couldn't just be him alone.

His new badge and position in the inquisitorial squad allowed him to follow her, all in the interest of fact-finding. Umbridge was interested in knowing their whereabouts, discovering what, specifically, Potter and his group were up to. She saw betrayal around every corner, lurking in every shadow. Draco was more than happy to keep tabs on Hermione. All in the name of fact-finding, of course.

The things he uncovered were probably of little use to Umbridge, unfortunately. Draco discovered that while she would drink tea, if coffee was offered she reached for that first. She would only nibble at her meals- Draco honestly worried if she was eating enough. Some nights he had half a mind to march over to her dinner table and stick a roll down her throat. Why did no one else seem to notice how she pushed the food around her plate?

She was studious, everyone knew that. But as Draco watched her, he didn’t see a witch entrenched in her studies, troubled over her work. In fact, it didn’t look like work at all. Hermione Granger was in love with learning. It filled Draco with an uncomfortable pleasure to watch such an intimate act.

Granger, for all her smarts, did not seem that observant about her surroundings. Even though he was not following her, he would admit that their schedules coincide very often, but she seemed to take no notice of it.

~.~

The more he watched, the more sure he was that Skeeter was full of shit. It didn’t seem like Hermione had any romantic feelings towards Potter, though she did spend a considerable amount of time attached to his hip. In fact, he was fairly certain he had seen her playing wingman for the bastard.

For his part, Potter did not seem interested either. They were friendly, but not in a flirtatious way.

That wasn’t the case for Weasley.

At times, it was clear he didn’t care about her worth a fig. But whenever McLaggen came her way, the red-headed oaf looked at Hermione like he wanted to possess her. It was a fucking pissing war that Granger seemed content to let him win.

~.~

He began to notice the small things. When she concentrated, her brows furrowed together. She would wrinkle there first if she kept up the habit.

She would gather her curls, less bushy than they were last year, and tie them back into a high bun. Defined spirals would slip out as she stood on tiptoes to get a better look in the cauldron. He knew by now that when her hair was back, she meant business. When her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, she became snappy. Weasley and Potter would give her a wide berth, seemingly knowing this inside information as well. Despite the fact that their obvious body language screamed for her to stay away, she would look over her shoulder, nagging them endlessly.

“You’re stirring the wrong way.”

“Did you add one cup or two?”

“Ron, it is not supposed to bubble like that!”

Endless, constant corrections. It drove Draco crazy.

“Enough Granger. Just let them fail already.” He said finally. He hadn’t meant to let that slip out. It was a thought that crept past his lips without thinking- one he needed to rectify. Putting on his best smirk, he added, “Besides, from the looks of it, you might not even be giving them the right information. Sure you’re not trying to off them, Granger?”

She pursed her lips together and breathed through her nose, trying to control her anger. He could practically seem her fuming. As she opened her mouth, ready to pour out a tirade of annoyances and insults, the urge to push her came over him. He didn’t see her as worked up anymore. Fuck, part of him wanted her to punch him the way she had years ago. The flush on her cheeks was so tempting.

In that moment, he wanted to crowd her against the potions table, her frame so much smaller than his. In his mind, she would smile as she gripped his belt buckle, tugging it off with practiced ease as she fell to the floor. She would look so damned pretty on her knees.

“Let it go, Mione.” Weasley tugged at her elbow, drawing her attention away. “He’s not worth it.”

~.~

It seemed like every time Cho Chang was around, Granger was pulling Weasley away. Draco bit his tongue as he marched towards the pair, shouting that educational decree 24 bans student groups. When Granger quickly retorted that two students hardly constituted a group, Draco replied that her hair alone ought to count for at least 3 students and to quickly go their separate ways.

~.~

The song “Weasley is our King” was written largely by Draco, and he was quite proud of it, if anyone cared to ask. The Slytherins sang it in the stands, his teammates chanted it on their broomsticks.

It was great to see Weasley so nervous. When it came to the already distasteful Weasleys, Ron was the worst. Always backing up Potter, constantly flying around Hermione like a gnat. Truly, the git had nothing going for him. His looks were below average, much like his I.Q. Draco knew that if it wasn’t for the fact that Hermione was such a pushover for her friends, Weasley would have had to repeat a year- several times.

And then he had the nerve to snub her. Had the nerve to let his short temper get the best of him and blow up on her.

If a little song riled him up, all the better.

~.~

He lost the match, but Potter still let loose. Such an ugly display of name-calling. He wished Umbridge hadn’t interrupted. He would have loved to break those round glasses and blacken his eyes. Especially because Hermione was screaming, trying to put some sense into him. It infuriated him. Why was it always him? Always Potter? She was forever by his side.

Notice me, not him- Notice me- notice me.

Umbridge banned the Gryffindors from playing. Draco smiled, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

~.~

Was there a reason Granger kept leaving clothes about the castle? It seemed like every other day he saw Granger chasing an elf with some hats or mittens for S.P.E.W.

Dobby had made his way back to the castle. He heard a rumor that it was hard for the elf to find work, and was glad to be in the kitchens, happy to be back with Potter.

He had spent his entire life in the service of the Malfoy family. Dobby could have sought him out as easily as he did Potter. Draco realized that Dobby must not want to.

Maybe Granger was right; maybe the elves were unhappy, wanted their freedom. Perhaps, at the manor, Dobby had been treated unfairly.

More than unfairly. Wrong.

Before he left the castle, Draco made a pitstop in the kitchens. Inside the emerald green package, a soft jumper, shorts, and several pairs of socks were carefully wrapped. The bright red bow red Dobby’s name.

~.~

Christmas at the manor was typically a grand affair. Anything put on by Narcissa Malfoy usually was. Witches and wizards would travel from all over to attend the annual Malfoy parties. They were known to be the social events of the season, and for young, unwed witches and wizards, a perfect matchmaking opportunity. The large evergreen tree was enchanted to twirl, the lights and sparkle from the ornaments making a pretty picture. The gifts under the tree were large in size, large in quantity. Everything seemed like a normal Christmas party, appearance-wise.

Inside, it was tense. It was hushed conversations, heavily veiled hints. There was a constant refill of champagne, a constant need for it . His father smiled, but he could tell he was on edge. And his mother, ever the gracious hostess, she flitted from one group to another, checking in, hearing it all. Draco simply sat back, letting the ebb and flow of conversation wash over him.

“Did you hear about Weasley?” A large wizard had said, leaning against the wall nearest Draco. He was talking to a pretty witch, dark hair pinned high on her head.

“No, do tell.” She leaned forward, hungry for the news.

“Attacked, they say. Right at the department of mysteries. It’s all very hush-hush.”

“Any day now.” He heard the witch whisper excitedly. The wizard murmured his agreement.

They were on the precipice; of what, he had no idea. He wished they would have the decency to give details if they would bother to talk so openly.

Mr.Weasley was attacked, that much he knew. As much as he detested the red-headed clan, he couldn’t help but imagine his own father in danger. He got the sense it wasn’t as far fetched as it might seem.

“Draco, dear.” His mother approached him, a gentle smile plastered on her face. “I believe Pansy is waiting for you to dance with her.”

“Must I?” He frowned. He was in no mood to dance.

“If you find her good enough to kiss in the hallways, I’m sure you’ll find her suitable enough to take a turn on the dance floor with.”

Draco's blue eyes grew large. He had no idea how his mother had heard about that. She held out her hand, forcing Draco to stand. “I have eyes everywhere, my darling.”

Pansy would not leave him alone for the rest of the night. She chatted happily, asked his opinion on her dress, her shoes. They talked about their classes, about their classmates, other things he held little interest in.

She was a fine friend, but that was all. She was pretty, wellbred. Funny, at the right times, kept up with her marks. Their families knew each other well, and her inheritance was sizable. She was everything he should be looking for in a partner, but none of it seemed appealing. He knew that Pansy was hoping for more- he certainly wasn’t helping the situation with his recent actions. But the thought of being attached to Pansy, or any variant of a suitable woman left him feeling sick. Granger's name clawed at the back of his mind, threatening to take over, to spill out.

He gripped Pansy tighter, wishing that the waist he was holding was Granger’s. Wished that he could pull her body in close, sway to the rhythm of the songs. Wished he could sweep her curls to the side so that he could whisper in her ear how badly he wanted her.

More than that, he wished there was a world in which he could dance with Hermione.

~.~

He was happy to see her on the train. Happy to be near her again. She, on the other hand, looked miserable as she walked down the aisles, dutifully inspecting her assigned compartments.

He wondered what had her so fatigued.

~.~

She was dangerous. Having feelings for her was dangerous.

It was an infatuation, that was all.

That's all it could be.

He tried to remind himself of that as he followed her through the halls.

~.~

Draco was called to the headmaster's office in the dead of night. In his gut, he knew. Whatever had been building was finally reaching its arc.

He had never been to Dumbledore's office. He had heard rumors, but never looked at the inside for himself. As the knot in his stomach tightened, the curious part of him wondered what it would be like to have an audience with the headmaster alone. Though he was loathe to admit it, Dumbledore was an intimidating wizard.

He was surprised to find Snape in the headmaster's chair, waiting for him.

“Snape?” he questioned. “What are you doing here? I thought-”

“Yes.” His professor drawled. “Professor Dumbledore requested your presence. He asked, however, that I deliver the message to you.”

Draco stood in front of the chair, legs locked into place. “What message?”

“Bellatrix Lestrange has broken out of Azkaban. Your aunt is on the loose.”

~.~

#dramione fanfic #dramione fandom #dramione fic #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #draco smut #light angst #Dracos side #Harry Potter #harry potter fan fiction #hermione granger #hermione #hermione draco #draco

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ldyinblckmsk · 4 years

Text

Always the extra, never the lead (part 2)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki X F! Reader

Genre: Fluff(?)

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Hey! Sorry for the wait, forgive me for being so lazy omgg. I'm really having a hard time how to end this, so I'm sorry if I just end it like that and feels like rushed. I feel like it's up to your imagination on how you'll pereceive it lololol (i'mjustsolazytocontinue). Thank you for reading! And I'm writing another angst so if you want to get your heart broken again, stay tuned ig.

Shocked. Confused. He didn't actually know what he's feeling that time as he watched you bidding your goodbye with that forced smile. He didn't dare move as if the the gravity was pulling him too hard from his seat.

All he can do is watch your retreating form with a conflicted expression as he try to sort his mind.

He already made a decision. And that is to put a distance between the two of you. So, why? Why did that the fucking organ inside in his chest feels so heavy when you called his nickname with a dejected voice as if that will be the last time you'll him that?

That is a mystery that he didn't want to find out. Yet.

He left the restaurant as soon as you went home, pissed with the nosy extras that's giving him a cruel look for making a girl cry.

Everything went fine after the incident but it doesn't mean that his life will go back to normal. He pushed you away, even though you said that you'll still be his friend, the bridge connecting the two of you is already replaced with a big crater. As much as he wants to act normal, something inside him screams that he's doing thubgs wrong and that irritates him to hell.

"Hello, earth to Bakugou!" A sweet voice makes him go back to reality. His eyes widen for a bit when he saw your face but it immediately disappeared when his crimson eyes fell to the girl he's currently dating. "Geez, Bakugou. If you feel sick, I think you shouldn't pushed yourself coming here."

"Huh? What yer' talking about, shitty woman?!" His tone rises than he intended as he take a bite on his now cold food. It's been a week since they really started going out for real. Taking a walk here and there, eating outside, and such. It's nothing really special. Just like how it used to be when they were young.

Akiya came home from New York last year after her parents died in a villain attack there. Mitsuki's the one who offered her to stay ath their home for a while. She's his childhood quirkless friend, well, technically his mother forced him to befriend her since her mom's a close friend. She was devastated at that time and Bakugou's there to comfort her, having a great sense of urge to protect her.

"Oh? So, you're fine after all." She laughed, teasing him for his outburst which just made him sigh. "You know...," she said trailing her words. "Someone told me that if you don't want to feel regret at the end, you don't have to overthink something and just let your heart decides."

Her philosophical words makes him furrows his brows, not really knocking any sense to him. "Quit the Confucius wannabe act, shitty woman. What the hell are you on?"

She chuckles. "What I'm saying is...before it's too late, you should chase the girl you really love. Y/n, that's her name, right?"

"What the fuck are you trying to say?"

"C'mon, Bakugou! Quit being a dick and go get your girl. I know you since childhood and, gosh, you're so obvious."

He didn't talk back, not that he doesn't have any snarky remark but he just want to listen and get enlightened. "You didn't really love me." She said that as if it weighs nothing. "We both know it. What we have between us is just platonic. Your urge of protecting me is nothing but a hero instinct really. Like a responsiblity, that's all. You just thought that I'm the one you wanted to protect the most because I'm weak and you already thought that that's love."

He watched her crossing her arms, brow raising up as she tries to lecture him about love and his crooked . "It's clear that you love her. That's why I was so confused when you asked me out. I mean, what the fuck's wrong with your judgement? You're so smart and yet really stupid."

"Then, why did you still accept me?!" His voice raising up, feeling the pent up frustrations as he function his brain. The hazy, cloudy water he's looking at slowly getting clearer as the girl, who was supposedly dating him is, helping him unravel his feelings. "I'd like to see how long you'd last but I'm getting frustrated at our set up considering how tangled your feelings."

•••

With the energetic sun outside, class 3-A students decided to spend their Sunday inside their dorm. Gathering at the common area as they ramble about how dreading and tedious the day is. As for you, it was just another day for sulking, not really feeling to socialize. A week of holing yourself in your room, avoiding to cross path with a certain someone as you try to heal yourself. It just feels so good lazying around in your room with soft blanket wrapping you up like burrito.

But, of course, someone will come barging in your room and destroy the peace you once had. Hands on her hip, the pink haired looked at you like a mother going to reprimand her child. "I swear, y/n, I'll trash you're room if you didn't stand up right now and have fun with us."

"C'mon y/n-chan! Don't let Bakugou spoil your day." You winced when the bubbly, round face uttered his name. That's one of the reason why you chose to trapped yourself in you room. Hearing any signs related to him just brings back the humiliation and despair you felt that night. "Girl, I'll tell you get over it. You're too good for him. It's his loss for letting you go away."

"Uh, that's absolutely right! And don't get me started with that girl he chose over you. It's clear that you're much better and yet..." Mina intejected empasing the word to prove her point, shaking her head as she clicked her tongue. This just lead Momo to stop the the acid user from dissing the girl. "Mina, don't pick on Akiya. She's a sweet girl."

Tsuyu nodded, agreeing with Momo. "You know they said that the key of moving on is to fill yourself with happiness. So, push those bitterness away from your soul and come downstairs to have fun."

A small smile forming on your lips, grateful for having a best group of friends. Their comforting words and the way they cheer you up makes your heart swell, tears welling up your eyes.

Fits of laughter welcomes you as your eyes met the chaotic state of your classmates. It's true that they're really having fun. Kaminari, Mineta, and Sero are in the middle, standing as they act something ridiculous while Kirishima, Tenya, Jirou are sitting on the large couch, trying not to laugh so hard as they guessed. They really took charades in the next level. Your other classmates are just on the other side of the couch watching the game, shouting if they figured it out.

Mina pushed you towards them as the both of you squeezed yourselves at the large couch, sitting beside the crimson locks. You smiled at him when he noticed your presence, feeling awkward, you focused your gaze on the goofy duo.

You're barely containing your laughter when they turn their backs on you, for sure it will be something that will make Ms. Joke insecure with her banters. "Hey, why are you taking so–"

Jirou can't finish her sentence when the sparky blond abruptly faces you. You were losing it, hands on your aching stomach as unsophistacated laughs escape your mouth. Lo and behold, Kaminari with his newly styled hair, split in half as Sero's tape keep it standing. Chest puffing up and flexing his biceps while copying the familiar pro-hero's famous smile.

"That's an awful version of All Might, sparky." You said, cheeks burning up after you calmed down yourself. "Hey, you hurt my feelings, y/n." You cackled at his response, eyes rolling at his childishness.

"But I'm giving you an A plus for making us laugh though."

"Well, it's my pleasure to put a smile on your face." Eyes winking as he shoot his famous thumb gun to you. Oh god, he's really flirting at you in front of your classmates. You snort when you saw Mina playfuly raising her brows, giving you a knowing look.

Another round was immediately ended with Mina shouting the answer on top of her lungs. It was really obvious when Denki held the pervert grape boy and raised him up in the air, immediately giving away the answer for the popular pose in the Lion King.

You saw Denki walking towards you with a playful smile painted on his face. You yelp when he suddenly pulls your hand, making you stand up, guiding you to the middle. You didn't want to spoil the fun, so you just let him do what he's planning about.

"Okay, okay, this time let's change our players! Mineta, please move aside." He said shoving the tiny creature, not letting him protest. "Let the princess here shine with me."

You heard your classmates shout, the girls cheering you while giving you a thumbs up. You both looked at the whiteboard held by Momo, reading the next word to guess, you sighed.

"Oh! T-that's..." Your partner stuttered, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at you flustered. "What? That's really not hard."

It's true though. The word was simple. All they gotta do is imitate the the 'titanic pose'. "I-I..uh..okay."

He snuggled behind you, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist. Most of the girls are squeling, too excited at the scene. You raised your arms, spreading just like what Rose did, making your shirt rise a bit. You felt the sparky blond's slender fingers making contact at the little exposed skin, unknowingly sending a tiny jolts. You flinch at the ticklish feeling, leaving a gasp from your mouth. It seems that Denki's purposely tickling you through his electricity.

"Oh my god! S-stop it, Denki." You try to slap his hand away as you let another cackle. "Make me."

The game is now long forgetten when Mina decided to team up with the blind and hold both of your wrists. You're helplessly laying on the floor as he continue to tickle you. Unladylike snort escaping your lips while wagging your head, kicking your foot as you try to pry his hands away.

The class president's scolding Kaminari, hands moving robotically, but it just falls on deaf ears. Your other classmates are having a pillow fight that you didn't who started it. The common room is now a mess.

Snarky as ever he is, the sight before him adds fuel to the raging fire inside him. The girl beside him is all smiles upon entering the famous UA. Deciding that it's better for her to tag along with him to help him chose the right path and not make mistakes again. Playing cupid and matchmaking really excites her.

"Are they having a party here?" The sweet girl whispered as he scans the now messy common room, pillows being thrown while some are tackling each other. The first thing his eyes land on is the sight of you tackled by the electric user as you laugh your lungs out.

You are really having fun.

"Oh god, are we too late?" Is he? The thought scared the fuck out of him. Your eyes widen when you spot him by the door...with the girl he's dating beside him.

"What the fuck's going on here?!" He yelled, making his classmate's head snapped towards his direction, eyeing the the two of them. Akiya waved her hand, shyly greeting them with a small 'hello'.

His jaw clench, darting eyes on his idiot blond friend. "Bakubro, you're home.." He said, acknowledging his presence as his eyes moved to the girl beside him. "...and you brought your girlfriend."

You were just fine a while ago. Laughing so hard til tomorrow. For the first time after you got rejected, you got a taste of happiness and yet the universe doesn't really want you to make the most out of it. There he was, scowl on his face as he introduce his girlfriend to the Bakusquad.

You classmates began dispersing as they went back to their own rooms, realizing that the fun has ended.

Something's really tugging your heart too hard for your own liking as if it wants to torture you with a heart ache. You didn't know that you're frozen in place like a fucking statue.

Mina crept beside you, nudging your shoulder snapping out of your trance. Denki already let you go upon seeing the fuming new arrival, throwing a glare at him. As you get a hold of yourself, you decided to go back to your room.

But the gods are not done with you, telling that you're still have an important role to fulfill. Someone screams your name, your mission of going back to the room peacefully were interrupted.

"Hey, y/n!" You muttered a curse before facing them. You wanted to raise your eyebrow, be bitchy, and act like you just didn't get your ass dumped by the man she's clinging to. Honey and flowers hit your nose when she engulfs you in a hug. You were surprised by the sudden close of proximity.

"Oh! Hey, uh, You know me?"

You internally slapped yourself at the awkwardness. Still, you're surprised that you're not a stuttering mess. Your heart leapt when your eyes met his vermillion eyes. He's fucking staring straight at you brazenly.

"Of course! Bakugou told me a lot about you." You noticed how the grumpy man opens his mouth to protest but he was shushed by his girlfriend.

"I just hope he's not dissing me." You chuckle, proud of yourself that you're still not crumbling. "No, don't worry it's the opposite actually."

"Well, that's assuring, I guess." Oh, you really want to save by someone from this awkward situation. "And I have something really, really important to say before I went home."

Soon, you found yourself trapped with the couple in your room. Bakugou is just standing by the door, arms crossed on his chest as he sigh while her girlfriend sat at the edge of your bed, moving her head as a signal for the blond to get moving. You just watched them, dumbfounded and clueless on what's going on. "We already broke up."

Your head snapped to her direction, confused. "Huh?"

You're lying if you swore that you didn't almost jump in glee upon hearing that. A bit of hope swelling inside you as you wished that it isn't some kind of prank. But you're confused, why the hell did she informed you that.

"Y/n, I just want to tell you that that man there is so dumb when it comes to feelings and emotions. I want you to listen to him. Okay, I've done my part. Now, Bakugou, it's your turn."

She said getting up, ready to leave the two of you. A smile etched on her face as she watch your confused face. "Good luck!" She whispered to his hear, giving him a playful salute before turning the knob. Now, leaving the two characters who met again in a new act.

Well, people met a lot of characters who play a different role in their lives. Most of them even minor roles will give a new meaning and lessons that will help them nurture themselves. To say the least Akiya is a character who plays an inportant role in the story. She's just there to build the climax of the tale who help the two conflicted protagonists achieved their 'happy ending'.

Taglist: @tspice283 @anime-weeb-bnha @bakugou-is-my-daddy @deneuves @shystudentcollector @nightlockowl @strangerbhnathings @toobsessedsstuff

#bnha bakugo x reader #bnha #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha x y/n

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

Cuss Out

→ summary: As a senior in an old, cockroach-infested school, you’d honestly rather die than take a zero period class at the asscrack of dawn. But there’s a quiet boy who sits next to you that keeps you from ditching. He’s kinda cute (although you’ve never really seen his face). Yikes. But as they say, actions speak louder than words, right?

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

→ genre: this was supposed to be fluff until i realized how fucking funny this whole situation is so now the majority of it is crack | high school!au

→ warnings: profanity as always

→ wordcount: 2.3k

→ a/n: inspiration hit because i hate my physics class and guys this is like my FIRST crack fic on tumblr after having a depressing fic streak 🤭 i hope you laugh as much as i cackled when i wrote this shit

Say you're on your deathbed. Your right leg is already crossing the thin line that divides life and the afterlife; you begin to feel your body succumb to death. But an angel appears. She sparkles, glimmers, and asks if you would like a second chance. You nod your head frantically. Anything to see another day, another sunrise. But the angel says there is a price to pay. She twirls her long, curly blonde hair with a perfectly manicured, dainty finger.

She leans in and you catch a whiff of Bath and Body Works' Beautiful Day perfume. It makes you feel uneasy. You don't trust that smell.

"If you want a second chance, my dear Y/N," she sings, her voice light and feathery. "Then you must retake AP Physics C."

I what???

Your daydream skids to a complete stop and you jerk awake, hands flying to steady yourself and eyes wide in confusion.

You look around your stupid zero period AP Physics C class to see if anyone had witnessed your embarrassing actions. But it looks like everyone else is half asleep—except those crazy kids who are actually taking notes. You breathe a sigh of relief before turning towards your uptight teacher, Mr. Chung. He's droning on about magnetism again, his posture annoyingly straight and voice fairly high-pitched—like he never went through puberty. Honestly, if you hear him say 'right-hand rule' one more time, you might just raise your own right hand and slap the shit out of the nearest person. And that person happens to deserve a good slapping, in your opinion.

She's the pesky girl in front of you that won't stop spritzing her stupid perfume in ten-minute intervals. You swear to the heavens you used to like the scent of Beautiful Day. But now, it makes you want to throw up.

Yes, AP Physics C is the epitome of a hellhole.

What's more, you don't know anyone in the class, which makes everything worse than it already is. You wouldn't be surprised if some kids in the period thought you were mute—rightfully, too, because you've never spoken a single word. Frankly, you don't feel the need to.

God, lecture days are the worst. Mr. Chung yaps on and on about a subject that frankly, you don't give two shits about. You're only taking this to fill up your schedule, anyway. Besides, the only unit you enjoy in physics (electric circuits) is over, which means everything else is tedious and stupid.

You don't know how you're going to survive another few months of this.

Then again, you suppose something does keep you coming to your zero period class every day. It's the only thing that actually keeps you from ditching.

There's this quiet boy that sits right next to you. As a fairly reclusive person yourself, you know shy people don't really catch people's attention. But he does.

Well, you barely even know what he looks like since he wears a cap covering his face or pulls a hood over his head every day. So you can safely say the boy doesn't interest you because of his good looks. He piques your interest because he is weirdly considerate.

You're a zero period class, which means when you come into the classroom, the stupid chairs are set on top of the stupid tables so the janitors can clean the stupid floor. It's such a fucking pain in the ass to have to haul your rather heavy chair back down at seven a.m. in the morning so you can sit on it for fifty-seven instructional minutes.

You've embarrassingly struggled over putting your chair back down for the first month of school. But after that first month, magically, your chair would be put down for you.

The boy who sits next to you would be the only one near your seating row. So you know it's his doing. But strangely enough, your seating row consists of four seats. He only puts down the chair for you and himself.

It's an awfully sweet gesture that doesn't go unnoticed.

And he's been doing that every day without fail since last year.

Honestly, it's your senior year and you wouldn't be too against ditching your zero period class, but he keeps you grounded. You need to come every day to see if he puts down your chair. It's the only interesting thing going on in your life, anyway. College decisions are out, you're completely stress-free and you're only coming to school so the office doesn't report you to your parents.

Come to think of it, you're not even sure what the boy's name is. Jeon... Junook? Joonuk? You've only heard his friends call him by his last name, so that's what you've been calling him in your head.

Jeon.

It sounds kinda dreamy.

Yikes. I cannot be possibly falling for a boy I haven't spoken a word to.

But even the way he makes sweater paws with his oversized hoodies is fucking adorable. And sometimes, his head droops a bit, which means he's dosing off again. See? You have that in common with him. Both of you can't stay awake during Mr. Chung's lecture.

You applaud anyone who can stay awake through Mr. Chung's monotonous lectures, actually. Okay, back on track, though.

You've been keeping your little crush on Jeon to yourself for months. You're sure your secret will stay with you when you graduate this stupid hellhole that they call a school. You can't wait to leave this cockroach-infested high school. Well, you'll miss your friends, a couple of teachers, of course. And you'll miss Jeon too... But other than that, you can't wait to leave.

The sound of Mr. Chung yelling at a fellow student makes your daydreaming come to a halt. You sigh. Every week, that man gives out at least one detention. You figured your best bet to not get one is to not talk at all. It's been working so far, too.

You look over at Jeon to see how he's faring. But his head is on his desk, his arms covering his face entirely.

Must've had a rough night.

You're contemplating whether to wake him or not. Mr. Chung might go on a serious rampage if he catches someone so blatantly ignoring his oh-so-important lecture. You're just about to muster up all your courage to speak your very first word to Jeon—and your first word in the class—when something scuttles beneath your feet.

You freeze.

Oh, fucking hell no.

It is what you think it is.

A big, fat, ugly, winged-ass roach.

It twitches its antennas almost sinisterly, and you scream silently, mouth open in shock. If it flies straight at you, it's game over. You're logging out of the group chat of life.

Ohmygod. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Okay, if you're smart about this, you'll get out of it without a major heart attack. You slowly tug your feet up to your chest, hands shaking and eyes glued onto the disgusting insect.

Apparently, the cockroach does not like being called disgusting in your thoughts. It twitches its antennas again as if to give you a warning signal.

Bitch, you curse at it.

You regret doing that.

The fucking cockroach hears you. And the next thing you know, it's flying straight at you with what you assume is blind rage.

You have no time to think. You scream the first words that come to your brain, "FUCKING SHIT," before nearly falling out of your chair to escape the terror of the fugly cockroach.

The roach manifests itself on your backpack, probably smug about the terror he'd just caused you.

Meanwhile, the whole class is staring at you. You, the quiet, shy girl that some people didn't know existed.

And for the first time, you're able to get a clear look at Jeon's face. His hood had fallen off of his head from the force he had jerked awake when he had heard your vulgar cussing. He's beautiful. His slightly long, curly hair brushes against his wide, doe eyes, and he's staring you down with a shocked look on his face. Your lips part as you examine his features. Oh fuck. I didn't expect that to be under the caps and hoods. And the fact that he's intensely meeting your gaze... You flush, unable to take his blatant stare, you turn away to see your teacher shaking his head at you.

"Y/N. That was unacceptable behavior," Mr. Chung's stern voice yells at you from across the classroom. Your teacher looks a bit shocked at your outburst as everyone else in the room. "We do not... partake in such profanity."

Your eyes grow larger as you stutter, pointing at the cockroach on your backpack. "I-I! Mr. Chung—"

"Detention, Y/N. I'll see you after school."

"I—" you start, fists clenched and eyes watering up with frustration. "I'm sorry, but there was a—"

"WHAT THE FUCK?! THERE'S A BIG ASS FUCKING COCKROACH. HOLY SHIT!"

Your eyes bulge out as you see Jeon of all people yell at the top of his lungs. His voice is surprisingly soft even when he's using it to shriek vulgar profanities. He turns back to grin at you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Before you can even react to his unthinkable gesture, Mr. Chung begins to yell:

"Jungkook! That is absolutely unacceptable. Profanity will not be tolerated in this classroom! Both of you! Detention after school!" Your teacher huffs. Jungkook. You perk up at the sound of Jeon's actual name, a stupid smile blossoming on your face. Bad timing, though. "What are you smiling about? You know what, both of you leave the class until you are able to behave yourselves."

Humiliation tinges your ears red as you hang your head low. God forbid you were being chided by your teacher like you were back in freshman year.

"There's a cockroach on her backpack, Mr. Chung," Jungkook protests, crossing his arms.

Warmth floods through your cheeks as Jungkook defends you.

"Did I ask?" Mr. Chung counters to your utmost disbelief. "Leave your backpacks and get out of class. We'll talk when the period ends."

Fuck.

Jungkook looks over at you, shrugging. He mouths, Oh, well, we tried. Let's go.

Wait, alone time with Jeon Jungkook outside of class? Maybe the cockroach was a sign of luck. Even so, you shudder as you look at the disgusting piece of shit sitting on your backpack. The ugliest luck on Earth, that is.

You maneuver your way around your bag, quickly following behind Jungkook as he struts out of class as if nothing had happened. You feel the eyes of all of your classmates on your back and you would be lying if you said you weren't sweating up a storm.

The moment you're out of the class and away from the windows and door of the room, Jungkook lets out a large sigh of relief.

"That was one hell of a cockroach," he laughs, his nose scrunching up cutely and bangs falling in front of his eyes.

"Y-Yeah," you manage to answer. "Sorry. I think I might've gotten you in trouble..."

Jungkook grins. "Pity. Guess I'll have to spend time with you in detention."

"Do you think Mr. Chung will kill us?"

The boy snorts, casually leaning against the wall and gives you a sideways glance, tilting his head curiously to look at you. "That man's all talk and no action. He hasn't put a student in detention in thirty years... Although he seems like he does every week. I think we'll be fine."

You nod, cheeks turning red as Jungkook stares you down.

"You know, I've been meaning to talk to you for a while," he confesses, smiling softly at you. "But I'm always drowsy zero period, so I didn't want to say something stupid. You really woke me up today. Thanks, honestly."

"O-Oh," you mumble, "yeah, um, no problem. Oh, and thanks for putting my chair down for me every day."

"No biggie," Jungkook grins. "Oh, and by the way, you free this weekend?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, nodding, heart beating as you realize what this is going to lead to.

"Good!" Jungkook exclaims. "I've always wanted to take you out sometime... Is this Saturday okay?"

You nod, too shell-shocked to speak. Turns out the shy boy isn't so shy at all. He'd been quiet because he was tired.

"Great!" he says, clasping his hands together.

The rest of the conversation flowing nicely. The two of you are really getting to know each other. And you find that your instincts had been very accurate—this boy is godsent.

When the bell rings to signalize the end of zero period, you're honestly a bit disappointed. For the first time, you wish your zero period dragged on longer.

"Well, it was so nice getting to you know," Jungkook says as he waves his phone. "I'll text you the details about our date later!" He begins to walk backward away from you, waving.

You watch him like you're entranced in a deep, magical spell.

"Y/N?" he calls when he's several feet away from you.

"Yeah?" you answer.

"You know, I didn't know you were such a cuss out!" he says, winking at you. "Would've never pinned you as the type!"

You giggle, shaking your head. "Speak for yourself!" you call back, making Jungkook grin wider. "And Jungkook?" God, his name sounds so right, rolling off your tongue.

"Yeah?"

"You forgot your backpack, silly. It's still in the classroom."

"Oh shit!"

masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook crack #jungkook fluff #jungkook #bts fanfction #cuss out #i imagined this whole story line in my chem class #this was originally supposed to take place in an ap chem class but then physics whipped my ass more than chem so #i kinda laughed writing this #i'm kinda lame

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whumphoarder · 4 years

Text

Long Distance Dadding

Summary: Peter gets sick while babysitting Morgan at the lake house and Tony is a Worried Dad™ about it.

Word count: 5,172

Genre: Sickfic, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff & angst

A/N: Mega thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss or beta reading and ideas <3

(This story is set about a year and a half after the snap's reversal. Peter is 18 and in college and Morgan is 6)

Link to read on Ao3

The trouble with saving the world from the largest global disaster to date, Tony finds, is that no one ever shuts up about it.

“Okay, not to sound like an ass or anything...” Tony begins, already eliciting an eye-roll from his wife, “but I’ve already been given a Nobel Peace Prize, the Congressional Medal of Honor, three Victoria Crosses—British, Australian, and Canadian—a Russian Gold Star, a Chinese Hero's Medal, the Gold Cross of Zimbabwe, and about twelve other various countries’ awards. Why do I need to go to Morocco of all places now?”

“Because they built you a monument, Tony,” Pepper explains for the third time, her tone a bit exasperated. “There’s a two-hundred foot tall statue of you in their capital city, waiting to be ceremoniously revealed.”

Raising his hands to chest height, Tony wiggles his fingers—both the flesh and prosthetic ones—in a jazz hand gesture. “Oooh...a statue,” he mocks. “I’m titillated.”

Pepper snorts. “You’d better have mustered up some titillation by the time you shake hands with the Moroccan Prime Minister this weekend.”

“This weekend?” Tony balks. “We can’t go this weekend. Morgan’s got her… uh…”—he flaps his hand, trying to recall just what tedious elementary school obligation the first-grader has coming up next—“her snowman... ball… thingy.”

Pepper raises an eyebrow in amusement. “You mean the ‘Seasonal Snowflake Sing-along’?”

His face lights up and he snaps his fingers in recognition. “That’s the one!”

“Well, you’re in luck,” she laughs sardonically. “Earlier today, Morgan’s teacher called to let me know that our daughter has flat-out refused to participate this year. Something about itchy costumes, boring songs, and ‘child talent exploitation’—did you teach her that term by the way? Because I certainly didn’t and Ms. Sanchez was pretty ruffled about it.”

Tony has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep the grin from spreading across his lips. He shrugs innocently. “You know, it’s important to start building a child’s vocabulary as early as possible. All the experts agree.”

Pepper heaves out a deep sigh, but Tony can see the smile in her eyes. She leans in and pecks his cheek with a kiss. “Go pack for Morocco, Tony. Peter already agreed to babysit. And besides”—she whispers the next part in his ear, her fingers trailing over the collar of his shirt—“I don’t know about you, but I think we could do with a weekend to ourselves…”

“Well…” Tony clears his throat, feeling himself melting under her touch. “You always did know how to make a compelling argument, Ms. Potts.”

“So, Morocco, huh?” Peter says with a grin as he loads his duffle bag into the backseat of the car. Tony’s parked in the loading zone just outside of Peter’s residence hall at MIT that Thursday evening. “What’s going on over there?”

“Just another stupid award ceremony,” Tony grumbles. He moves back around to the driver’s side. “Gonna cut a big red ribbon, shake metal hands with some dignitaries, attend a couple of fancy banquets, yada yada…”

Breathing out a short laugh, Peter plops down into the passenger seat. He looks a bit haggard, though Tony can’t blame him; the first semester of college is always rough. Hopefully the long-weekend away will help.

Throughout the four-hour drive to the lake house, they chat about Peter’s classes (“You know, they told us in high school that college was going to be so much stricter, Mr. Stark, but there was literally a kid in my English class who started making grilled cheese sandwiches on a hotplate and selling them during the lecture and the professor bought one”), the new people he’s been meeting (“Pretty sure my roommate is in a cult, actually...”), and extracurricular activities (“Did you know if you take fencing, archery, pistol shooting, and sailing, you can become a certified pirate?”). Eventually, they run out of things to catch up on and Peter starts looking drowsy, so Tony turns on the radio for some background music and they continue on like that for a while.

Three hours in, Tony’s forced to stop for gas. Peter is sleeping soundly, curled up in his hoodie for the whole time it takes to fill the car. For a moment, Tony’s tempted to just let him be, but given that this will likely be their last opportunity for a break until they’re home he ultimately decides against it.

“Hey Pete?” Tony says, shaking the kid’s shoulder a bit to rouse him. “Did you wanna stretch your legs or anything?”

Peter blinks awake and shifts to sit up straighter with a small groan. “How far are we?” he mutters.

“Another hour at least, but I thought we might get some late dinner too,” Tony replies. “There’s an Arby’s right across the street.”

Peter’s face screws up into a grimace. “Ugh, Arby’s is the worst. It’s like, a wad of salty meat on a bun.”

“But with sauce,” Tony points out. Seeing Peter’s expression doesn’t change, he amends, “Alright no Arby’s. McDonald’s? They’ve got a new McFlurry flavor for the holidays I think.”

Peter gives a tired shrug, then curls back up against the window. “You can just get something for yourself. I’m not very hungry.”

Tony eyes him suspiciously. “Who are you and what have you done to Peter?”

“Hilarious, Mr. Stark,” Peter deadpans. Then, after a moment, he admits, “My stomach’s kinda hurting.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “Yeah?”

Rubbing at his gut one-handedly, Peter nods. “Yeah, since lunch. Probably shouldn’t have tried convenience store sushi...”

Tony snorts a bit. “Well, they do say a key part of college is experimentation and learning from your mistakes.”

Peter huffs out a laugh. “Awesome. Maybe I’ll join Martin’s cult next.”

They make it the rest of the way to the lake house without incident. Morgan’s already asleep, so Peter hangs out in the kitchen chatting with Tony and Pepper for a bit before turning in to the guest bedroom for the night.

Peter seems fine the next morning, if a little groggy. Their flight to Morocco leaves at 6:30, but both kids are up at stupid o’clock in the morning to send them off.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna go to your concert thing tonight?” Tony tries one last time as he encircles Morgan in both his flesh and prosthetic arms for a goodbye hug.

She shakes her head firmly. “Every time we practice Jingle Bells, Keegan makes farting noises with his mouth and the vein in Ms. Sanchez’s neck gets really big and red,” she says. “Peter’s more fun.”

“Yeah, probably,” Tony agrees. He pecks her on the cheek before turning to Peter, who’s blinking tiredly and sipping at a mug of coffee as he leans against the kitchen island. “Now, are you sure you’re up for a whole weekend of this?” He gestures to the energetic six-year-old in front of him.

“I think we’ll manage,” Peter says with a small smile. “If she gets too crazy, I’ll just web her to the wall.”

“Hey!” Morgan complains, and Peter sticks his tongue out at her in return.

Tony chuckles. “Sure, do what you gotta do,” he allows. “Just don’t get it in her hair—hate to have to cut it off. The Valentine’s Day sing-along is up next.”

“Uuuuggghh,” Morgan groans dramatically.

Despite all of Tony’s protests, he has to admit that Morocco is pretty gorgeous. There are definitely worse places to be honored with a gigantic statue.

“I’m just saying, I think the chin was too big,” Tony complains as they make their way back to their hotel room following the ceremony that evening.

Huffing out a little laugh, Pepper shakes her head. “I’m sure they did their best, Tony.”

“But of all the things to get wrong, why’d it have to be the chin?” he goes on, though there’s no real heat there. “I mean, c’mon, this whole thing is about the defeat of Mr. Purple Ballsack Face—they could have a bit more sensitivity…”

While Pepper heads off to the shower, Tony glances at his watch. It’s just after one a.m. Moroccan time, meaning Peter and Morgan are probably finishing up dinner back at home. He figures that’s as good a time as any to check in, so he calls Peter’s phone.

Four rings later, a small voice that definitely doesn’t belong to the teenager answers the call. “Hello?”

Tony frowns. “Morgan?”

“Oh! Hi Daddy,” Morgan greets, her tone going much brighter. “How’s your trip going? Do you like maracas?”

Tony chuckles a bit. “Sweetheart, I keep telling you, Mommy and I are in Morocco. A maraca is a musical instrument that you shake to make noise.”

“Can you buy me one?”

“One of what?”

She giggles. “A maraca!”

“No, honey, listen to me.” Tony runs a hand over his face. Maybe Pepper was right about the whole needing a vacation thing after all. “Maracas are not Moroccan. They don’t make them here. It’s a totally different thing.”

“Oh.” There’s a beat. “Can you buy me one anyway?”

“I don’t know—we’ll see,” Tony says, shaking his head slowly. “Hey, can I talk to Peter for a sec?”

“Uh…” Morgan hesitates. “Peter can’t come to the phone right now.”

Tony frowns. “Why’s that?”

“He’s throwing up,” she says simply.

“Morgan!” he hears Peter groan irritably in the background.

“What?” she demands, speaking away from the phone now. “You told me to talk to him for you, so I am.”

“But you weren’t supposed to tell—” Peter’s voice is cut off by the sound of retching, followed by the faint sound of liquid splashing.

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why is Peter throwing up?”

“He’s sick,” Morgan reports. “We were playing before, but then he said he didn’t feel good and his stomach hurt so we were just watching Wreck-It Ralph for a while. Then I said I wanted taquitos for dinner and he threw up on my Elsa blanket. It was really gross. But he said he was sorry, so I told him it was okay.” She pauses her rambling for a second. “We can wash it, right Daddy? Like that time I spilled all the yogurt on it?”

“Yeah, I’m sure the blanket will be fine,” Tony says absently. He’s already scrolling through his calendar app to figure out just how many Moroccan obligations they have left to attend. “Can you give the phone to Peter now, please?” he requests. “And then go to the kitchen and see if you can find him a can of Sprite, okay? Maybe some crackers too.”

“Yeah, okay,” Morgan agrees.

He hears shuffling over the line, which he assumes is the phone being passed between them, immediately followed by the sound of Morgan’s footsteps hurrying out of the room. A second later, Peter’s voice croaks, “Sorry, ’m fine, Mr. Stark. And Morgan was watching another movie. Got everything…“—he swallows hard—“handled.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Very convincing. I’m sure Elsa agrees.”

“Elsa had it coming, honestly,” Peter grouses. “Those songs always get stuck... stuck in my—” He burps sickly, and then Tony hears the phone clatter onto the tile followed by more muffled retching and splashing noises.

Tony sighs deeply, running a hand over his face. So much for vacation. He fires off a quick text to Happy: Hey, you busy tonight?

As Peter continues to retch, three dots appear on the screen indicating Happy is typing. Are you in a foreign prison again?

For the last time, Slovakia was not my fault, Tony retorts.

A second later Happy texts: Keep telling yourself that.

Tony hears the toilet flush and the sound of the phone being picked up again. Peter’s voice, shakier now, comes back over the line, “Uh… you still there?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it,” Tony says briskly. “Bathrooms have the best acoustics, you know.”

“That’s really gross...” Peter mutters.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to talk about gross right now, puke-boy,” Tony retorts as he fires off another text to Happy: Got a situation. How soon can you get to the lake house?

Happy’s reply comes a few seconds later: I’m watching Iron Chef America and doing laundry, Tony. It’s my day off.

Tony counters with, The kids are home alone and Peter just decided to reenact The Exorcist

The three dots appear, then disappear. Then they appear again a moment later, followed by a message: I can be there in 2 hours

You’re the best, boo <3, Tony shoots back. To Peter he informs, “Happy’s on his way.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Peter protests. “It’s just food poisoning or something…”

Tony scoffs. “Well, either way, someone who isn’t busy puking should probably be keeping an eye on the little troublemaker.” He pauses for a beat. “And Morgan too.”

Peter just groans.

In the background, Tony hears the telltale pattering of small feet on the tile. “I couldn’t reach the crackers, so I got you Doritos!” she announces.

Peter’s voice is hesitant. “Oh. Uh… thanks.”

There’s the sound of a crinkling bag moving closer to the phone. “They’re Cool Ranch flavor!”

Immediately, Peter starts gagging again.

Tony heaves out a sigh. It’s gonna be a long night.

After filling his wife in on the developments back on the home front (and being assured by Happy that he was keeping tabs on the situation as he made his way to the lake house), both Tony and Pepper decide they should try to get some shut-eye before their packed day tomorrow.

Pepper falls asleep straight away, clearly exhausted from their full day of travel and social obligations, but Tony finds himself tossing and turning on the overly-soft hotel mattress. It’s not until Happy texts that he’s safely arrived at the lake house to assume his uncle duties that Tony finally manages to drift off.

It doesn’t last long.

It’s barely 4:30 in the morning when Tony’s roused from his sleep by his phone vibrating under the pillow. He pulls the device out to see a message from Happy:

Kid’s had his appendix out already, right?

Being mindful of his sleeping wife beside him, Tony holds the phone just inside the duvet to shield the glowing screen from waking her. Yeah, before the snap, when he was 16, he replies, his mind going back to Halloween night seven years ago. A frantic and babbling Ned somehow managed to hack into Karen’s communication systems to inform Tony that Peter was more or less dying on the bathroom floor. An emergency surgery later, Peter’s been one appendix lighter ever since.

Why? Tony adds. Is it that bad?

Nah, just checking, Happy says. He says he’s alright but he’s running a fever and his stomach’s hurting a lot

Tony frowns. How high’s the fever?

Not very high. 100.9. It’s probably just a bug then

Yeah, probably, Tony agrees, despite the nagging worry in his gut. How’s Morgan taking it?

Just put her to bed, Happy reports. She kept trying to bring Peter juice pops until he finally ate one. Puked it up again ten minutes later. Don’t think nursing is her calling in life

Tony huffs out a short laugh as he types: Nope

Happy follows up with: Alright, I think I’ll try to get Sir Barfs-a-lot to bed now

Godspeed, Hap, Tony replies.

Then he slides the phone back under his pillow, pulls the covers up around his chin, and doesn’t sleep a wink.

“Look, I don’t like this situation any more than you do, but we can’t just bail on six dignitaries, Tony,” Pepper says in exasperation. She’s standing in front of the bathroom vanity, door ajar as she finishes straightening her hair. “We have two meetings this morning and a luncheon scheduled with the royal family at two.”

Tony runs a hand through his hair. “I know, I know…” he sighs. “I’m probably overreacting, it’s just…” he trails off.

It’s eight o’clock now, meaning the time is currently two a.m. back in New York. According to Happy’s last text, Peter managed to make it to bed around midnight and though he was still in a fair amount of pain, he hadn’t vomited for a few hours. Objectively, Happy did seem to have everything pretty well handled, but Tony still can’t shake the feeling that this might be something more than a virus.

Returning the sigh, Pepper unplugs the flat iron and sets it on the counter before walking over. “It’s just that your kid is sick, so you’re gonna be a worried dad about it anyway,” she concludes for him. “Am I right?”

“Guilty.” Tony gives her a sheepish smile. “Guess I’m getting soft in my old age...”

Pepper wraps her arms around him, pulling him close, and plants a gentle kiss to his lips. “Yeah, you are,” she agrees. “But don’t change. It’s a good look on you.”

They kiss for another few seconds before Pepper pulls back. “Well, the good news is, I’ve gotten quite good over the years at attending social obligations in your stead.” She gives his shoulders a squeeze. “You go do what you gotta do.”

With Pepper’s blessing, Tony leaves the jet and most of his luggage at the hotel with her, opting to just fly home in the Iron Man suit instead. It’s partly to ensure Pepper has a ride home in place, and partly so that he can shave an hour or two off the flight time. Even then, it’ll be a good five hours before he’s back, which gives him more than enough time to stress.

Sometime around the half-way point, Tony is soaring over the Atlantic when FRIDAY interrupts his thoughts. “Boss, you have an incoming call from Happy Hogan.”

“Put him through,” Tony says immediately.

A second later, Happy’s gruff voice comes over the speakers. “Got any extra sheets somewhere?” he says by way of greeting.

Tony grimaces. “So it’s one of those nights, huh?”

“Oh yeah, we’re having a blast,” Happy grumbles tiredly. His voice has a slight echo to it, indicating he’s in the bathroom. “Kid’s also wearing a pair of your pajamas now—hope you’re not too attached because the way this night’s been going, I foresee more casualties.”

Worriedly, Tony diverts more power to his thrusters. “The linen closet is in the hall by the master bedroom—should be some extra sheets in there,” he informs. “How’s his fever?”

“Holding steady around 101. He looks pretty miserable though.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“Hang on.”

There’s some movement and a few muffled words from Happy’s end before Peter’s voice rasps out a very pathetic sounding, “Yeah?”

Tony winces in sympathy. “Yikes, kid...” he says as lightly as he can manage.

“I threw up in bed,” Peter admits, his voice thick. “’m really sorry. I was tryin’ to get up, but moving made my stomach hurt more and then I just…” He trials off, sniffling slightly. “And now Happy says you’re flying home early and, and... I’m just really, really sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Tony interrupts over the kid’s emotional rambling. “It happens, no big deal, okay? And honestly, Pepper’s much better at the whole decorum thing than I am, so the Moroccan royal family is better off with her anyway.”

A small, dismayed noise issues from Peter’s throat. “The royal family?” he whines. “Mr. Stark…”

“It’s just fancy tea with old people,” Tony assures. “Boring as hell, I promise. You’re doing me a favor.”

“God. I’ve gotta be the worst babysitter ever,” Peter moans sadly. “Zero stars on Yelp. You should give Happy my fifteen bucks an hour...”

Tony huffs out a single laugh. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him a nice fruit basket when this is over. Chocolate covered strawberries and all that.”

Over the line, Tony can hear heavy footsteps on the tile. “Sheets are changed,” Happy says, his voice muffled.

“Thanks,” Peter croaks back. Into the phone, he says, “Um, I’m gonna go back to bed now.”

Tony hums in affirmation. “That’s good. Try and sleep, alright?”

“‘Kay,” Peter says. Then, in a very small voice, he adds, “Uh...I’m really glad you’re coming home, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s heart aches. “Yeah. I am too, kid,” he says softly.

By the time Tony’s boots touch down in the yard, the sun has just come up over the lake house, clearing the early morning fog. He retracts his armor and heads into the house, legs wobbly from the lengthy flight.

He finds Morgan and Happy sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. The six-year-old immediately jumps up to greet him.

“Daddy!” she exclaims, racing over. Tony stoops down and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

“Hey pumpkin,” he greets, planting a kiss on her forehead. “You’re up early.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t wanna sleep anymore. I wanted to see if Peter was better.”

“Is he?” Tony asks.

Morgan shrugs again. “I dunno, he was sleeping and Uncle Happy said I couldn’t wake him up ‘cus he’s sick. So we were gonna make pancakes, but Uncle Happy couldn’t find the pancake flipper,” she says with a pout. “So he was gonna use a fork. But then he dropped the eggs on the floor and they got broken and he said a bad word and now we’re eating cereal instead.”

His eyes flick up to Happy, who’s finishing off a bowl of raisin bran and looking at least as exhausted as Tony feels.

Since Peter is still sleeping, Happy and Morgan head out to feed Gerald and run some errands while Tony heads to his own room for a quick shower and change of clothes. Once he’s done, he pours himself a cup of coffee and heads to the guest room where he finds Peter curled up in bed, a lined trash can beside him.

“Aw, kid…” Tony breathes out as he approaches the bed. Even in his sleep, Peter’s brow is beaded with sweat and his face is pinched in pain.

He straightens out the kid’s covers and watches him for a few moments, taking in the rise and fall of his chest and his fever-flushed cheeks before sinking down into an armchair beside the bed.

Only a few minutes into his silent vigil, the combination of jet lag and sleepless nights catches up with him and Tony finds himself nodding off.

It’s the sound of whimpering that pulls Tony from his sleep thirty minutes later. His eyelids flutter open to see Peter curled up on the bed, arms circled around his stomach and eyes red and wet with tears.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Tony says in alarm. He quickly moves over to sit on the edge of Peter’s mattress, a hand on the kid’s shoulder, but the movement of the bed only makes Peter moan. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Stomach r-really hurts,” Peter manages to choke out. “‘S like, stabbing me.”

A fresh wave of worry washes over Tony. “Where does it hurt?” he asks. Cautiously, Peter hovers a hand over his lower right side, causing Tony’s eyes to widen. “Kid...” he begins.

“But-But it can’t be that!” Peter protests. “I already had it out. It’s gone, it’s—” He cuts himself off with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Does it feel like it though?” Tony presses. “Like your appendix did?”

Without opening his eyes, Peter nods hesitantly. “Yeah, exactly like that. But it can’t be,” he insists, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself as much as his mentor. “It’s gone.”

“True, but you’ve got plenty of other organs in there that could be going haywire,” Tony points out. He makes a beckoning gesture at Peter’s stomach. “Let me see.”

Reluctantly, Peter lifts the hem of his shirt up to expose his abdomen. His lower belly appears slightly swollen and the skin is flushed a light pink. As carefully as he can manage, Tony presses his fingertips to a spot about four inches down diagonally to the right of the kid’s navel.

Peter instantly gasps. He clamps a hand around Tony’s wrist, startling him. “Stop, stop, please,” he begs.

“Okay, okay,” Tony says, quickly releasing the pressure. But rather than relieving the pain, Peter cries out and curls even more into himself.

“That’s it—we’re going to the hospital,” Tony decides, already pulling out his phone to fire off a text to Happy. “Appendix or not, this is obviously something.”

Tellingly, Peter doesn’t argue. He just squeezes his eyes shut and gives a teary nod.

It takes a few minutes just to get the kid to uncurl enough to sit up, and then once he is up, he’s so nauseous that it’s another several minutes of hanging over the trash can and swallowing convulsively before he manages to get to his feet. The walk to the car is slow and shaky, with Tony bearing most of his weight. Thankfully, they’re less than half an hour from the lake house to the nearest SHIELD base, and they are equipped with a full Medical facility—something that definitely factored into Tony’s decision to purchase this particular property.

(Retired or not, he’s still a goddamn worrywart.)

Peter is lying curled up in the backseat, and Tony keeps stealing glances at him through the rearview mirror. The kid whimpers quietly with each bump in the road and every turn elicits a low moan.

“Almost there, kiddo,” Tony promises him. “Just fifteen more minutes.”

But only three minutes later, he hears Peter inhale a sharp breath, then suddenly go quiet.

“Pete? Still with me?” Tony asks worriedly, glancing up at the mirror. He’s half-expecting to see that the kid’s passed out, but instead finds Peter looking infinitely less tense than he did a moment ago.

“Yeah,” Peter breathes out. “It just hurt really bad for a second, but then it stopped hurting? Not all the way, but it’s a lot better now. Like, a lot better.”

Tony’s heart drops as one thought screams in his mind: something fucking ruptured.

“That’s, uh… that’s good Peter,” he says shakily as he presses the gas pedal to the floor. “Just hang in there, okay?”

A gurney is waiting for Peter outside when they pull into the SHIELD base and he is immediately rushed to an examination room. But when the test results are inconclusive and his fever spikes to nearly 104, the doctors decide that exploratory surgery is their best bet to figure out what’s going on.

Tony spends most of the next three hours in the waiting room on his phone. First, he manages to get a hold of May in the middle of her shift. He gives her the lowdown while simultaneously sending a wildly expensive Uber to pick her up and drive her to the base.

Next, he calls Happy, who is currently at an indoor butterfly farm with his awe-struck niece. “Fucking knew something was wrong,” Happy sighs in response when Tony tells him.

Morgan talks to him for a few minutes, expressing both her heartfelt concern for Peter and the overwhelming joy she experienced when a very pretty purple butterfly landed on her arm a few minutes ago.

Tony can’t help but love her for it. Morgan might come across calloused or unfazed at times, but between the blip’s reversal, the defeat of Thanos, and seeing her dad’s long and arduous recovery process following the loss of his arm, she’s lived through more trauma in her six years than most people do in several decades. He’s glad that she’s usually able to find happiness regardless.

It’s around that time that Tony’s adrenaline fades enough for him to realize just how much his wrist is aching from where Peter grabbed it and rolls up his sleeve to reveal purple bruises. He’s pretty sure nothing is broken, but quietly gets an ice pack from the nurse anyway to press to the injury, sick at the thought of how much Peter had to be hurting to do that.

Tony calls Pepper—who has just finished up her royal luncheon—and finally lets himself fluster out properly.

She manages to talk him down from the panic attack that’s threatening to overtake him just in time for the doors leading back into the OR to swing open and Bruce to emerge.

“I’ll call you back, Pep,” Tony ends the call abruptly. Then hurries over to his friend, stomach in knots. “How’d it go? Is he alright?” he asks anxiously.

Holding up a hand, Bruce clears his throat, a little awkwardly. “Okay, first of all, I’d just like to say that the surgeons are just finishing up and Peter is, for the most part, fine.”

Tony instantly breathes out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank god…”

“But, uh, for the second thing...” Bruce goes on, gesturing to one of the waiting room chairs. “You might want to sit down.”

“It grew back?!” Peter balks at them.

It’s been about five hours since his surgery now and the kid is finally lucid enough to take part in the absurd medical conversation surrounding his unprecedented case. Bruce, Tony, and May attempted to explain the situation earlier, but Peter hadn’t been able to keep up and ended up nodding off straight into his jello cup, so they’re on round two now.

“Well… sort of,” Bruce explains, adjusting his glasses. “When you got un-blipped, your cells were reconstructed, same as everyone else who came back. But since your mutated DNA regenerates your cells at an expedited rate, they somehow took that process a step further and managed to restore your body to, uh…” He flaps a hand, searching for the correct term.

“...to factory settings,” Tony finishes for him. He huffs humorously. “Congrats, kid. You’ve gotta be the only person in history to have their appendix burst twice.”

Peter groans. “Awesome. Parker Luck strikes again...”

May tuts and hits his shoulder playfully.

“You’ll be on heavy antibiotics for a while,” Bruce continues. “Luckily, the rupture occurred very close to the time of your surgery, so peritonitis didn’t have time to set in yet. The surgeons flushed out your abdominal cavity as best they could and hopefully the combination of the medication and your enhanced healing will be enough to prevent another infection.”

“So don’t jinx it,” May concludes firmly. She ruffles her nephew’s curls.

Morgan and Happy appear in the doorway a few moments later. Tony gets up, ready to remind the little girl that she needs to be gentle with Peter since he’s still recovering, but it seems as though Happy’s already given her that talk because rather than bounding over, she tiptoes into the room, arms held behind her back.

“Hi Peter,” Morgan greets. “Does your tummy feel better now?”

“Yeah, a lot,” Peter assures her with a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Good.” From behind her back, she produces a colorful wooden instrument and shakes it. “Uncle Happy and I bought you a Morocco!”

Running a hand over his face, Tony lets out a long sigh.

God, he loves these kids.

Link to all my fics!

If you're interested in reading the full story of the first time Peter's appendix ruptured, check out my previous work: Ned the Dumbwaiter

Or, for more sick Peter at the lake house with Tony and Morgan, try: Dad Level: 3000

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

#sick peter parker #irondad fic #morgan stark #Peter Parker & tony stark #lake house #serious illness #surgery #appendicitis #babysitting #peter parker needs a hug #tony stark has a heart #my fic #irondad & spiderson #vomiting #hurt/comfort #peter parker whump #whump

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