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rpd-rookie · 2 years

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Okay, so I have a really dumb request for Leon that's been on my mind for a while now 😭

Could you please maybe write something where Leon and the reader are having sex and a zombie or something gets into the house and interrupts them?

I'll Find You in Therapy - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader (NSFW)

Author’s note: Sorry for taking so long. I wanted to write something good and original since it's a kind of trope I read many times. I hope you'll like it nevertheless.

Summary: Leon is escorting President Benford to Ivy University in Tall Oaks. But two unexpected things are going to happen, one definitely more pleasurable than the other.

Tagged: SMUT / RE6 Leon / Mention of Alcohol and Alcoholism / Age Difference / Gore and Violence

Leon had never been to college. But as he looked around him, a little impressed part of him wished he had. The ancient stone buildings and their huge windows. The large green courtyard and its beautiful clocktower in the middle. The brand-new football and tennis pitches. And, of course, the cheerful students chatting and having fun under the centenarian trees. The Police Academy had nothing that resembled that and that was just a small glimpse of what Ivy University had to offer.

He wasn’t here for tourism. Even though Tall Oaks was a charming city renown for her history and splendid architecture, it’s business that had brought him here. He was to escort and protect President Adam Benford during his short stay in this student town where he was expected to deliver a speech in front of a crowd of freshly-graduated student. Anyone (meaning everyone) who had seen the multitude of flyers and posters plastered all over campus was aware of that. And yet for a graduation day, the atmosphere seemed quite very calm. Leon remembered his graduation day, which was also the day he learned he had obtained his first job as a police officer in Raccoon City, and it had looked nothing like that. He remembered the excitement, the happiness, the boozy party with his classmates in some lousy pub on the edge of town, how each of his male friends had ended up completely wasted (including him) and trying to fuck the few also-quite-hammered girls from the academy. The night had turned into a wild competition, one Leon had not participated to but had somehow won, only to lose his girlfriend a few days later. Alcohol had always put him in trouble even as a student. Maybe that’s why they only served fruits juices and soft drinks in this school. “You know, Leon, adults can have some champagne.” The friendly voice of Adam Benford pulled Leon back to reality. “Even agents on duty, from time to time.” “I am afraid that wouldn’t be very professional, sir.” Leon replied very politely, declining the glass of champagne the president was handing to him. “It’s a graduation party, Leon. Be more festive and loosen up a little. I allow it. After all, what can happen to an old man like me in a crowd of students?” Leon smiled faintly as he finally accepted the drink. The first sip was weird on his tongue. He was not used to drink champagne or anything bubbly for that matter, always favoring a nice glass of whisky on rocks during long nights home or a few shots of vodka when he was a darker mood and willing to forget every ordeal haunting his mind quicker. “Come on, have a break. I am not going anywhere and I believe that even if I wanted to, those law teachers would not let me.” “I’ll look around if the place is secure.” “I said a break Leon!”

A break? Leon couldn’t picture the last time he truly had one. Even though the last two years had been quite routine and quite easy on him (at least, as easy as terrorist threats could be), he hadn’t really stopped working and travelling the country. In fact, he was pretty sure his last vacations dated back to 2011 right before being sent in the middle of a civil war in Eastern Slav Republic without breakfast and losing a new friend. JD, may you rest in peace wherever you are now. The memory of that time was like a pin in Leon’s brain that made him pinch the bridge of his nose and exhale loudly. Instinctively, he pulled out the silver flask he kept in the inside pocket of his leather jacket and unscrewed the cap to take a small mouthful of the strong amber liquid in it. But a voice stopped him before he could let it pour on his tongue. “You know, it’s forbidden to drink on campus.”

Leon looked at the person who had interrupted him with a slightly unimpressed yet pained expression. It was a young woman, way younger than him, probably a student in her early to mid-twenties, sitting on the windowsill with a large book in her laps. “Especially something so grandpa-ish. Whisky, am I right?” “Well, it’s either that or champagne.” “Yeah, I am not a fan of bubbles, either.” You said as you closed your book loudly. Psychology, huh? Interesting. “But I know a place where you can have something way better than whatever old man’s alcohol you have in there.” “That’s sweet of you, but I’m on duty.” He nodded with a polite smile before walking away. “Says the man who’s just drunk from a flask in a college hallway. Guess the president’s agents don’t beneficiate the best shrinks of the country.” Leon abruptly stopped only to turn around, definitely astonished by your inappropriate boldness. “Well, our shrinks are often former students from your college.” The sentence was meant as a barb but it clearly made you snickered and jump from your little rostrum. “So, since I’ll certainly become your shrink in a month or so. What do you say we bring our appointment forward and have it now? Talk about your obvious PTSD around shots of tequila.” Leon smirked, amused by the daring attitude of the young woman before him but also kind of interested in what she was obviously suggesting. After all, you were quite stunning and he would gladly blow some steam right now. That was of course if he understood your inuendo properly and if you were indeed suggesting sex. He hadn’t shared anyone’s bed in quite a while now. The last attempt at any sexual intimacy had been a couple of months ago, if not more, and it had been a total fiasco, so catastrophic the girl hadn’t even called him back. And who could blame her? After all, he had barely been capable of keeping a descent hard-on because of all the stressful professional things in his mind. “Let’s see if you deserve your diploma.”

You barely talked. But that was fine. Leon didn’t really want to talk and there was certainly no need to talk to do the things the little tartan scrunchie you had placed around the handle of the door to your dorm clearly alluded to. Instead, you poured each other few shots from a bottle of cheap tequila you kept hidden under your bed, sitting cross-legged on your mattress while enticing each other with snarky remarks that Leon found more sexy than hurtful (He looooved self-confident women who weren’t afraid to give him a piece of minds) until you were relaxed enough to let your bodies claim what they had come here for. “Let’s see if what we say about older men is true.” Your hasty hands pushed Leon flat on his back and he gasped, rather surprised by the quick initiative, when his whole body pressed against the soft though creaky bed. Then, you straddled him and immediately removed his jacket, his holsters that carried two hand guns (that you placed careful on your nightstand) to finally unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. “You know what you want.” Leon chuckled as he watched you pull down his jeans with one very swift move. “Yes and I most certainly know where to look.” You let your hand crawl in his boxers and Leon shivered and hissed at the arousing yet quite cold sensation. “Easy with your cold hands, sweetheart.” You ignored Leon’s remark and wrapped your fingers round his soft shaft to stroke it and gauge it at the same time. Not huge but not tiny either. Should be perfect, especially when hard. And you didn’t want to wait. You slid Leon’s underwear down his thighs to reveal his virility that you suddenly kissed and licked as you crawled down his muscular body. “Someone’s in a hurry.” He hissed again before you grabbed his cock in your firm hand. “Easy, you little brat.” “I have a party to attend to. And I guess you do as well.” You retorted before you kissed the foreskin of Leon’s flaccid cock to tease him and make him understand you had no time for silly things especially sweet-talking. “Raah, fuck. Fine but don’t say I didn’t try to be a little sweet.” “It’s a one-time thing. It doesn’t have to be sweet.” “Damn, you kids sure know nothing about sex these days.” “I know enough to suck your cock.” You knelt more comfortably on the mattress and immediately started sucking the tip of his cock like a lollipop, rolling your tongue eagerly around it to taste the bitterness of his pre-cum-covered skin on your tongue while one of your hands found the base of his shaft to stroke it and make it harder in your warm mouth. “You certainly do.” Leon managed to hiss between his gritted teeth. You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it entirely in your mouth with a lustful moan that forced a grunt out of Leon’s throat. “Goodness. It’s been a while since someone didn't sucked my cock so well” Leon confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, completely amazed by the pleasure you were giving his hardening sex right now. You didn’t reply but you were definitely a bit annoyed. Did he have to talk that much? You hollowed your cheeks and started bobbing your head hoping the sudden tightness would make him shut up a bit. It did and Leon cursed when he felt his tip brush the entrance of your throat. Instinctively, his hand in your hair clenched and he pushed himself deeper into your salivating mouth until you started gagging around him. The sound made his penis throb and he grabbed your head with both hands to force yourself deeper onto him. “That’s right. Take it.” His hips started moving to give a quicker pace and if you didn’t mind at first you began being bothered by it when you felt yourself slightly chocking around his cock. You pushed him away to take a breath and wipe the drool of your lips and chin. Leon laughed at your annoyed look. “What? You said no tenderness, right?” You shook your head, exasperated but amused and aroused at the same time. Guess, he could take the lead and be a player if he wanted to. You removed your drenched panties and

threw them onto the floor. Your could keep your summer dress. “Have you changed your mind, yet?” Leon asked as he tried to catch a glimpse of your naked pussy under your dress. “Nope.” You answered before eventually crawling up his body. “And you talk too much.” “Yeah. I have this weird habit.” “How can I finally make you shut up?” “I have an idea.” Leon raised a come-hither eyebrow and you smirked. You knew all too well what that meant. You approached your pussy from his face, slowly, very slowly until it almost brushed Leon’s awaiting lips. “Is that the idea you have in mind?” “You’re reading my mind, sweetheart.” Leon’s hand gently slapped your ass and he grabbed your cheeks to press your womanhood again his agape lips that were way too eager to finally meet your pussy. Leon kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally linger on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “You know what you’re doing.” You complimented. “You’re not my first rodeo, baby. Though you taste more delicious than others.” Leon chuckled before he eventually buried his tongue in your hole to fuck you with it. You cried out and clang to his soft hair, amazed by how good he was at tongue-fucking you. “Fuck!” Without realizing it you started undulating on top of Leon’s face, soaking his lips, chin and nose with your juices as the pleasure inside of you was growing to a point it was almost aching. Aching to burst. “I think I’m going to cum.” You confessed in a plaintive whisper. “Yeah?” Leon mumbled, his mouth and tongue still playing with your soaking pussy. You nodded furiously, your incoming orgasm making you a whimpering mess already. “Then cum for me, princess.” His order had a power over you you did not foresee and you immediately came on his face, screaming, shouting a bunch of ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ and ‘fuck’ until Leon commanded you to yell his name. “Leon, my name’s Leon. Say it!” “Leon! Fuck! Leon!” Your thighs tightened around his head and you grabbed the headboard of your bed until you climbed down softly of your high, the highest you had experienced in your life. Maybe older men were indeed better lays. “Damn!” You exhaled loudly, still amazed and dazed by your orgasm.

One last kiss on your clit made you shiver and you felt Leon gently push you away and lie you down on the mattress that suddenly felt as soft as cotton underneath you. “Hope you still got some energy for me.” Leon joked as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to overstimulate you. You knew it. “But first, tell me you got a condom.” You nodded towards your nightstand and Leon opened the drawer. He had no difficulty finding what he looked for and was not really surprised to find a couple of pink toys hidden next to the condoms. Maybe he’ll use that later. He opened the condom with his teeth, hastily but cautiously. He didn’t want to make a hole in it. Would not want to get some random girl pregnant, right? Then he unrolled it on his erected shaft and went back to tease your entrance. “Just take me already.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his cock, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Leon ignored your whim and bent over your body. “Stop whining or telling me what to do, sweetheart.” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Got it?” You nodded, surprised to see how docile he could make you. “I want you, Leon. Please…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness. He still tasted like you and you moaned in his mouth, wondering if he could also taste the bitterness of his precum still lingering on your tongue. His hand around his cock guided it the tip inside you until he finally pushed himself fully within your hole, making you grunt in his mouth. “Yes!” You whimpered and Leon growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself sinking inside of you with a revolting easiness. “Fuck! Your pussy feels so tight, princess.” “And your cock feels amazing. Bigger than I thought” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “It’s not a frat-boy’s cock, am I right?” He chuckled, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Leon admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.” “When you’ll be my shrink?” He joked. “You’ll love my therapy.”

Those last words made Leon grin in a way he had never done in a while as he was genuinely happy to live such a carefree relaxing moment after so many stressful tiring months. He immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth sides, admiring his chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core again, ready to drown you one more time. “Leon!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me again, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes. “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls fluttered and clenched tightly around his thick cock. “That’s it, princess. Show me how good it feels to have an old man like me fuck your young pussy.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of his condom. “Jesus!” Leon groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours, until his strokes became shallow and finally no more. Exhausted and breathless just like you, Leon watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He knelt in between your tights, admiring your spent body covered in sweat with pride until he pulled out of you with a hiss, making you wince a little, and removed his condom that he knotted and unceremoniously placed on the torn wrapping on the nightstand.

“Fuck, I needed that.” Leon declared as he brushed his hair away from his face. “Though I might have one more load for you, sweetheart. That is of course if you want it.” You chuckled and slowly turned around to offer Leon a view of your ass, suggesting a new position. How could you refuse him after two incredible orgasms like that? “Be my guest.” Leon scoffed and he grabbed a new condom in the drawer but as soon as he put it between his teeth, the door to your dorm slammed open. You screamed, surprised and immediately pulled down your dress to cover your sex while Leon quickly pulled up his boxers and jeans to hide his cock. It was your roommate. “Fuck, Jess. Didn’t you see the scrunchie?!” You shouted, embarrassed but especially furious. Jess did not reply. Instead she stayed still in the room, her eyes atrociously reddened and empty, completely emotionless. She didn’t look well. “Jess?” You repeated as you sit on your bed. Jess looked at you and then at Leon. The void in her eyes turned black and what was emotionless became suddenly animalistic and hungry. And before you could say another thing, your roommate rushed towards Leon and you, her hands ready to grab you and claw you apart. You shouted but your scream was deadened by two gunshots that left you paralysed onto your bed. “What the fuck?!!” You yelled. Leon got up to have a look at Jess who was now lying bloody and dead on the floor. He had a gun in his hand. He was the one who had shot. “What did you do?” “A BOW.” He mumbled to himself. “What?” You didn’t understand what was going on, didn't know if you should cry, or scream or run. “You shot my roommate!” “That wasn’t your roommate. Not anymore.” “What the hell are you talking about?” “I have to find the president. Take this.” He handed you the spare gun he kept in his second holster. It was smaller and probably less powerful than the one he had in his hand but that would be enough to help you get away from campus. “Do you know how to use it?” He sounded so serious and so professional it could have been scary if the vision of your zombified roommate wasn't already making you tremble in fear. “I guess so but…” “Listen. I want you to get the hell away from here. Leave the city. You have 12 bullets. It’s not much so use them when you don’t have the choice and don’t stop running until your safe. Got it?” “What about you?” You asked as you watched Leon leave. “I’ll find you in therapy.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy one shot #leon kennedy x reader

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djmarinizelablog · 3 years

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I think u bleed maroon, ma'am. 🤔 Heck, you could've went to both for all I know (one for masters or whatever). I already graduated too before the fire happened so who knows maybe we met at some point in time, as tibaks maybe? 👀 That being said, it's not everyday I "meet" a fellow iska who's into the same ship as I am so I'd stop beating around the bush and finally state what I'm really here for, and that is me respectfully requesting for a Levihan as UPD students AU. Salamat at padayon! 😀🌻

He sees her holding placards and posters in protest, fighting for human rights, and Levi Ackerman thinks that his world would stand its ground, but it doesn’t. It really doesn't. The barricades aren’t going to hold forever. He’s gotten past two, three protesters when he hears the sound of opposition once more. The rallyists have already reached the main road in the heat of the afternoon, tarpaulins and megaphones in hand, angry voices rising in the air.

“Stand up for the poor!” they shout in unison, their fists clenched with indignation. Again: “Fight for the oppressed!”

This time, louder.

He pushes himself in between the gaps of the crowd, trying to reach the end of the road where he can hail the first taxi he sees and do away with all of this. Levi hates meaningless actions. But more than that, he hates these kinds of disruptions.

Halfway through the lecture this morning, the instructor had asked all his students to do a university-wide walkout to challenge the proposed budget cut in agricultural institutions. “Pack up your belongings and go,” Professor Shadis said.

Levi thinks it’s unfair, the budget cut. It’s the farmers who will suffer. But his anger is not enough to make him protest out in the streets.

His classmate, though—what was her name, Hange, was it?—was the first to stand up, fist balled up in the air as she gathered those who wanted to voice out their dissent. Levi had never seen the need for these kinds of things, even if it were, as they said, for the good of humanity.

He tries again to find his way out of the university avenue, but the opportunity to leave never arrives when he gets pushed back into the melee of people—crowd control, they call it. His anger has now shot through the roof. "Oi, move." Nobody does. He tries again, his voice rough and more demanding, "I said, move—"

“Levi!” someone calls out to him. “You’re leaving?”

He turns around and sees Hange, a megaphone in one hand and a huge placard of “Justice for the farmers!” on the other.

“Join us, please,” she implores him, “we need more people!”

Hange then holds out her hand, palm open, her gaze holding on to his strength. Levi’s on a standstill. On the stage, Nanaba is already reading some of her political works about the media shutdown. Erwin is right below the platform, ready to go next with his speech about how the government should provide more aid to the poor.

Kenny would be raging when he finds out that his own nephew has been involved in these kinds of mobilizations. The Ackermans are a powerful family of politicians; they control everything in the city---from the wealthy elites to the people in the slums. But Levi doesn’t care about that, not right now. So damn if he does, damn if he doesn’t. However, there really is something in the way Hange is observing him, as if she knows there are only two things he can do: leave or stay. As if she can read his mind. As if she knows which one he’s more inclined to pick.

His eyes stare back into hers, and that’s how he finds his answer. Maybe later he will regret this.

Levi realizes Hange’s hand is still outstretched towards him, waiting. The air around them has gotten more tense, the shouts more raised, the anger more apparent. He sighs and takes her hand, and Hange gives him a small smile before tugging him towards the throng of people.

“We’ll be alright, I promise,” she says.

Right after Erwin finishes his short speech, Hange goes up to the platform and puts the megaphone in front of her mouth. She explains the reason behind this protest, and why people should care about the matter behind the budget cut. She says a few more things, her ideas radical and filled with anger at unjust systems.

And Levi just stands there in awe. As if the world will never be the same again, not with the way Hange Zoe presents herself to the world like this: humble and in service to the masses, to those in the margins and the needy.

"Rise above your anger," she addresses her audience while looking straight at him, “If our liberation is bound with the oppressed, then let’s work together.”

The cheers from the crowd are deafening.

It was then that Levi saw Hange Zoe’s eyes in the eyes of the people.

-------

maybe I'll flesh this out one of these days in a full-length fic, who knows? let me know what you think! (and padayon, iskolar ng bayan!)

[also: SOS is pretty much just the university!AU life; you might find something similar there... huehuehue]

#levihan #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman #fanfic #fanfiction #hange zoe #hanji zoë #writing #mine #ask #djmarinizela #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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wy-van-sunshine · 3 years

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wesper fanfic!

Plot: After the “Crooked Kingdom” events, Jesper and Wylan live together at the Van Eck residence. One night Wylan can’t fall asleep and he looks for some company from Jesper. He finds him staring at that small portrait of a red-headed child which Marya Hendriks had drawn during her exile in the care house.

Wylan had some trouble falling asleep in the last few weeks. His life had radically changed: his devious father was to stand trial and he would probably end up to Hellgate; he had somehow gotten involved in a gang of criminals and - in case that wasn’t enough - he had found friendship as well as love among those criminals. He was now an independent boy, ready to replace his father in the city business, possibly to make a better job than him, and his life felt almost... happy?

Wylan didn’t remember many times in which he felt happy, definitely not since the day he was told his mother was dead.

But mostly, now he felt loved.

Wylan had been in love before - or at least he thought so - but he never felt that same warm feeling come from the person to whom he gave everything he had.

Still, as a simple student afraid of every aspect of life he probably didn’t have that much to share.

But Jesper knew everything about him. He knew him in a way no one ever did, maybe even better than Wylan himself. He knew about his most hurtful experiences and, even though he often mocked him about his little flaws, Wylan knew he didn’t do it to do him any harm. He would never.

So, basically, when Wylan thought about his new life he felt as if his universe and timeline had completely changed: he was a whole new boy, but he didn’t mind at all.

That evening was different, though: he had already had these thoughts while trying to sleep, but he was so tired from the heists he had attempted with the Crows that the need for a good night sleep was stronger than anything else.

But now two weeks had passed and his mind was thinking at incredible speed, leaving him no space to rest. He lied in his bed for about an hour, then, after stating it was useless, he stood up to reach the living room and spend some time with Jesper.

Jesper always got in bed later: they shared the room, but Wylan’s need to sleep and the sharpshooter’s relentless energy were not the best thing after the heists, so Jesper had started to leave the redhead some space in order to let him rest - not without mocking him a little about it, obviously:“Go to sleep, sunshine. I have to say, though, I thought I’d fallen for a young boy, not for the oldest man alive!”.

Wylan smiled thinking about how every insult coming from Jesper embarassed him, but at the same time it somehow made him feel special. After all, that was his way to flirt and he knew it.

“Hey, Jes?” he said softly, entering the living room and looking over the sofa on the left. The view warmed his heart: the room was a little dark and the only light, coming from the fire in front of the sofa, played with Jesper’s features in a beautiful way. Every time Wylan fell a little more for him, he couldn’t explain how, but he did.

The sharpshooter lift his head and looked at him, smiling while putting a little paper he held in his hand in the pocket of his shirt. “Already missing this hot piece of Zemeni boy, sunshine?”

Wylan’s cheeks flushed with red - he would probably never get used to Jesper’s candor - and he walked up to the sofa, where he sit next to his boyfriend.

“I really hate you, you know?” he said staring at the ground, but leaning in on Jesper’s chest, waiting for him to wrap his arm around his shoulders.

“Evidence shows the opposite, actually” answered the Zemeni with a grin, circling Wylan’s shoulders with his arm. “What is it, anyways? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Am I not allowed to wish for some time with my boyfriend?”

Jesper smiled, his eyes spreading light:“Of course you are, love, don’t even need to ask. When did we estabilish I am your boyfriend, though? I must’ve gotten lost somewhere between our kiss and- ouch!” Jesper couldn’t finish his sentence as Wylan punched him on the thigh, laughing softly with a sound the sharpshooter loved with all his heart. He laughed back and placed a tiny kiss on the redhead’s neck.

“I suppose my need for sleep is over, now I just lay in bed thinking about everything that’s happened and I can’t help but making my mind wander” said Wylan answering the original question. He turned over to look at Jesper in the eyes, letting a grin shape his lips:”Which means we can go to bed together now”

“Wylan Van Eck, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” asked Jesper with an astonished but amused expression. “Wow, hanging out with us really made you a terrible person”

The redhead burst out laughing, laying his forehead on the sharpshooter’s shoulder, his eyes filled with tears of amusement:”You’re so stupid”

“I am learning from the best, you know”

“Stop it!”

They both laughed out loud for a while, Wylan’s whole body shaking and Jesper’s arms wrapped around his waist in an attempt to calm him down. Eventually, they both relaxed and silence fell on them, on their hug which neither of them felt like breaking, not just yet. Wylan’s forehead still lay on Jesper’s shoulder: after keeping his eyes closed for a while, enjoying the moment, he opened them and his gaze fell on the little piece of paper laying in the pocket of his boyfriend’s shirt. It was inside and he couldn’t quite see what it was, but he was pretty sure he recognised it and his heart made a huge, joyful leap.

“What were you doing, anyways?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t seen anything “I noticed you were looking at some paper... was that something business related?”

Wylan noticed with silent amusement Jesper’s eyes starting to wander in the room, meeting everything but his gaze:”Erm, yes, yes, business. A merchant wants to buy- no, sell some of his... well, yes, business related stuff. Definitely. I’ll think about it tomorrow, anyways” Jesper cleared his voice, trying not to choke on his own words ”Shall we go to our room now?”

The redhead smiled, leaning in on the sharpshooter in order to kiss him. Their lips met and Wylan seized the moment of distraction to rapidly take the paper from Jesper’s pocket and jump off the sofa not to get caught. He stared at the little drawing of him as a child, made with love by his very much alive mother Marya: he remembered Jesper had stolen it when they visited her, but he didn’t think he was still keeping it after Genya had used it to restore his aspect. He smiled, looking at Jesper with not even Saints know how much love in his blue eyes.

Wylan didn’t think he would ever see bold, enterprising, outgoing Jesper blush... and yet there he was, his dark skin slightly changing colour in realisation of what his boyfriend was learning. The redhead said nothing for a while, a huge smile laying on his lips as he stared at the sharpshooter. After some time in which Jesper did nothing but move anxiously with his whole body on the sofa, Wylan finally broke the unbearable silence.

“Jesper Llewellyn Fahey, you are a big softie!”

If possible, Jesper blushed even harder, hiding his face in his hands and cursing the day his father revealed his middle name. Thank you, Da. Not only do I have to deal with this, I also have to hear Llewellyn being called a big softie. Jesper wasn’t enough. He didn’t like the way he was handling the situation: he was desperately looking for some of his sarcasm, but he was not prepared to face his feelings in such a strong way. He felt so stupid.

Suddenly he felt some gentle fingers wrap around his wrists and he lifted his head, meeting the blue oceans resting in Wylan’s eyes. The redhead was smiling, a light he had never seen before shone in his gaze. He was... wait, was he about to cry?

“Wy?” he asked, not certain about how to behave. What was happeing? If anything, he should be the one crying from shame.

“You really like me that much?”

Wylan’s question was so simple, so genuine. Jesper couldn’t help but falling a little more for him every time he witnessed how pure he could be.

“What... of course I like you. A lot, I’d say. How is that something to cry for?”

Jesper put a hand on the redhead’s cheek, brushing away with his thumb a single tear running on it.

“I have never had someone like you, Jesper. I have really never felt like someone cared for me this much. Not my father, not my friends, not my crushes. And now you’re here and I... I don’t know how I deserved any of this. Are you even real?”

The sharpshooter laughed softly, his shame completely gone, his love for that skinny, clever boy stronger than ever.

“You’ve earned every single part of this, Wy. You are so amazing and please, every time I tease you punch me, because you deserve eveything, more than me, more than anything this world could ever offer you. Please know how much you’re worth. Please.”

Wylan smiled, sending his tears back, then he sit on Jesper’s lap and he placed both hands around his neck:”I don’t care what I do or do not deserve, all I care about is you. As long as you’re here, it’s okay”

Jesper kissed him slowly, with kindness, grateful to the Saints, to Djel and to whomever was up there for placing that merchling on his way.

“Back to the original matter” said Wylan after a while “I’m putting up posters in every street of Ketterdam to tell the world what a big softie Jesper the sharpshooter is”

Jesper laughed out loud:”Yeah sure, everyone will believe that. It wouldn’t work out, anyways”

“And why is that?”

“Your mother drew you as a beautiful child and you’re really not that handsome, No one would say that’s you.”

Wylan grinned and punched Jesper twice on his arm.

“Damn! What the hell was that for?”

“You just told me how amazing I am and that I should punch you every time you say the opposite. It’s on you”

“Fair enough”

#wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #six of crows #wylan x jesper #wesper fanfic

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craftypeaceturtle · 3 years

Text

Distanced, part 1

Summary: A group chat fic! How shall these useless students cope with daily life.

Note: This is my first attempt at anything even remotely like this! I have no idea how this will turn out so feedback is greatly appreciated! Intrulogical.

Next part here!!

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:15

Hello. This is Logan Sanders from Prof. Smith’s seminar. Do you have any suggestions for how we should go about completing the upcoming assessment?

Remus Prince: who dis

I literally just stated it. Logan Sanders.

I wear the tie.

Remus Prince: OHHH

Remus Prince: Well 1stly

Remus Prince: What’s the best planet in the solar system?

Pardon?

Remus Prince: i LitERaLlY JuSt stAtED iT

That has nothing to do with anything, we just need to get through this project.

Remus Prince: if u want to work then u have to answer

Jupiter.

Remus Prince: cool.

Remus Prince: You’ll do.

Remus Prince: My name is Remus.

I know. We did actually swap phone numbers. We in fact discussed which topic we would be doing for over fifteen minutes in the seminar. So we have indeed met. If you continue to be obnoxious then this will be a easier project.

MESSAGES: To Remus Sanders (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:22

Why did you ask that question?

Remus Prince: I asked my brother that question and he answered earth

Remus Prince: I’ve had trust issues ever since

Roman’s favourite planet is Earth?

Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: ye he’s an idiot

Remus Prince: I’ve gotta test everyone now.

Remus Prince: You passed btw

Remus Prince: WAIT!

Remus Prince: Do u know Ro?

Yes, he is my friend and roommate.

Remus Prince: What was ur name again????????

You can literally scroll up and reread it. I refuse. You got into university for a reason and so you can manage my name.

Remus Prince: jk

Okay then. Do you want to discuss how we should go about creating this powerpoint?

Remus Prince: what’s there to ‘discuss’?

We can separately conduct our research however it is regrettably better to meet up in person to practise not only giving the presentation but also the construction of the presentation itself.

Remus Prince: man you just love sending essays huh

I have written out longer messages. I don’t understand the point of sending a sentence at a time and risk getting interrupted. Plus at least my texting doesn’t seem all like an assault of constant notifications.

Remus Prince: fair

Shall we say that we should aim to get our presentation research finished by two weeks (15th). That leaves us another two weeks to construct the powerpoint, gather more research if necessary, then practise presenting.

Remus Prince: k

GROUPCHAT: Goths, Emos, and Remus

Tuesday, 16:26

Octopussy: can I vent for a sec

Octopussy: So! I’m just sitting here. Y’know. Vibing.

Octopussy: Then out of nowhere the nerd from my class starts messaging me about the group project that’s due a month away

Octopussy: like wtf

Octopussy: nice to know the nerd thing isn’t just appearance

Vigilant: help

Octopussy: he made a big deal about meeting up as well to do this!

Octopussy: No one in the class even cares!

Octopussy: No one is even remotely

Octopussy: Not even close

Octopussy: To thinking about that project right now!

Octopussy: We’ve got ages!

Vigilant: oh sweet jesus

Octopussy: Like! We’ve got a month!

Octopussy: AN ENTIRE MONTH

Octopussy: Like he also wants to meet up as well to practise

Octopus: Like ew.

Top-Hat-Gay: Are you done?

Octopussy: ye

Octopussy: he’s a dick

Vigilant: oh thank god

Top-Hat-Gay: Ha, as if you believe in god.

Vigilant: If it stops Re from not spamming us then I’ll believe whatever.

Octopussy: rude

Vigilant: bitch

Top-Hat-Gay: On an actually important note, which one of you last used my nail bag?

Octopussy: me!

Octopussy: you need more green

Top-Hat-Gay: No I fucking don’t!

Top-Hat-Gay: There was an entirely new bottle in there!

Octopussy: I said what I said.

Top-Hat-Gay: I hate you.

Octopussy: Thank bby

Octopussy: ALSO!

Octopussy: I found out the nerd also lives with Ro.

Top-Hat-Gay: So?

Vigilant: hE’S FORBIDDEN

Top-Hat-Gay: Wait so the nerd is Logan?

Octopussy: He is!

Octopussy: not that it seems to be having any effect on Ro. he’s as dense as a brick.

Top-Hat-Gay: I saw him today going into Remy’s.

Vigilant: Why are we even talking about him

Vigilant: Like who gives a shit.

Octopussy: dunno

Octopussy: just thought it was weird

Top-Hat-Gay: Maybe you should switch partners. Especially if he wants to meet up at some point.

Octopussy: nah

Octopussy: not worth it

Top-Hat-Gay: A teacher wouldn’t care. They only want to see good grades. They won’t mind moving stuff around for you.

Octopussy: He seems harmless.

Vigilant: you literally called him a dick after one conversation.

Octopussy: he is a dick

Octopussy: he seems stuffy but just a nerd through and through. He’s not going to be a prick or anything.

Vigilant: This isn’t really about him. He already got you talking about you know who in your first ever conversation. Maybe you shouldn’t hang around him.

Octopussy: I just thought it was interesting

Octopussy: It doesn’t mean jack shit

Octopussy: Not everything I talk about has some grand meaning.

Octopussy: I just thought it was weird that this nerd I share my classes with also lives with my bro.

Top-Hat-Gay: And that’s perfectly fine Re.

Octopussy: soz V

Octopussy: didn’t mean to blow up in your face

Octopussy: just annoying to feel psycho-analysed

Vigilant: soz

Octopussy: okay!

Octopussy: that’s proof enough!

Octopussy: we can behave to each other so ice cream plz!!!!!!!!!!!

Top-Hat-Gay: JESUS CHRIST I SAID THAT AS A JOKE LAST YEAR

Octopussy: I will eat V’s posters unless you give us reward good boy icecream

Vigilant: chocolate pls

Top-Hat-Gay: jesus do you lot know how long it takes for me to put on my cape to go shopping

Vigilant: yes

Vigilant: we are precisely aware of exactly how long it takes

Vigilant: that’s why we don’t go shopping with you

GROUPCHAT: THE FAM ILY

Tuesday, 16:38

Pat-on-the-back: Heya guys, are we all in for dinner tonight?

Logan.S: I am.

YourHopesandDreams: I will be in at 7. If you could be so compassionate to push your meal back until then, I would be truly indebted to you.

Pat-on-the-back: Fine by me!

Logan.S: I am agreeable.

Pat-on-the-back: Also Lo! Are you finished with your work?

Logan.S: I have finished my to-do list so I am available if I’m needed.

Pat-on-the-back: No, you’re all good! I just wanted to check. It sounded like you were doing work for like four hours straight.

Logan.S: It took three hours thank you very much.

Logan.S: So what are we doing for dinner?

Pat-on-the-back: I was thinking lasagne!

Pat-on-the-back: also! Don’t think I’ll notice that change in topic!

Pat-on-the-back: I thought we all agreed on two hour stretches of work with a 15 min break at least. I mean... it’s even written on our calendar! There’s no way you forgot, did you Mister!

Logan.S: It’s fine Pat.

Logan.S: Just let it go

Logan.S: I needed to get it done

Logan.S: I don’t need to be babied.

Logan.S: I’m taking a break now. I’m okay.

Pat-on-the-back: I know, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure. As long as you feel okay then everything’s alright! How was your work anyway?

Logan.S: Fairly ordinary actually. I had to go through some of my notes and rewrite a couple of pages then I had to organise a group project due the 2nd of March.

Pat-on-the-back: Sounds productive!

Logan.S: Thank you.

YourHopesandDreams: Ew. Group project. Who’s your partner?

Logan.S: We are in entirely different courses, why do you think you would know them?

YourHopesandDreams: Everyone knows the drama students know everyone.

Logan.S: I’m working with Remus.

YourHopesandDreams: You should ask to swap partners.

Logan.S: I won’t do so unless I have a genuine reason. I’ve not had any interactions with him previously and while he did seem half-hearted and obnoxious in his messages, he seems harmless. If he messes everything around then I will but I won’t make a fuss unless I have reason to.

Pat-on-the-back: That’s fair but please make sure to tell us if he pulls anything.

YourHopesandDreams: Your loss.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:02

hey u awake

Nerd: What on earth are you doing up at 3am?

Soz

Wrong number.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:12

Nerd: What is your favourite planet?

wha

Nerd: I figured it would be fair to ask your test to you. For all I know you could be as uncultured as your brother.

can we not talk about him

I dunno really

I wanna say pluto because they deserve it

but I kinda like saturn best.

Nerd: Any reason why?

Just kinda interesting

Big, lots a moons, ring.

It’s just a cool planet.

Nerd: Fair enough.

Do you have a reason to like jupiter?

Nerd: If I’m being honest, my science teacher absolutely adored Jupiter. I don’t know why but that memory of him ranting about how cool it was just really stuck with me. I was only about 8 years old. But I found myself agreeing with him. Back then my fascination was a lot more childish. I thought it was fascinating that since Jupiter was a gas planet it hadn’t been blown away yet. I grew up from that view but the interest never left.

ew that was almost cute.

Nerd: I concur that was very unprofessional.

WAIT

HOLD ON

Why hasn’t Jupiter blown away!?!?!?!?!??

Nerd: Excuse me?

8YR OLD YOU IS A GENUIS

Nerd: There’s no atmosphere in space!

But there’s pressure and junk isn’t there?

Nerd: The pressure is pulling the mass into the centre which keeps the planet whole.

Do you think we could step on Jupiter?

Nerd: I don’t know.

I thought you knew space!

Nerd: I do biology! To get into a biology degree, I did a bunch of biology based subjects! Why would I know anything about space?

I dunno.

I guess if you look like a nerd people just presume.

Nerd: I’ve personally found it’s the confidence. If you act confident enough then everyone presumes you know exactly what you’re doing and you’re in control, no matter how out of place you look.

I’ll drink to that!

Wait, in what situation would you have learnt this!?!

Nerd: I have a bad habit of accidentally going to the wrong class and just going along with it rather than anything else. Although I should say I did fantastic in that architectural history class. But this habit has caused some awkward situations. I have also impersonated a store manager to explain why me and my friend were there when really he ran into the warehouse searching for a kitten.

HAH

That’s brilliant

Using your nerdy powers to overthrow society.

Does this mean you’re a liar?

Nerd: I call it ‘managing life’.

HAH

Sounds about right.

Why are you awake at this time?

Nerd: I could ask you that.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #My writing #roman sanders #patton sanders #Janus Sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #group chat fic #fluff

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lowkeyorloki · 3 years

Text

A Study In Suit, Part II

Summary: You’ve worked too damn hard to get into Professor Laufeyson’s advanced course, and you’re not about to let your pesky attraction to him get in the way. Your professor, however, has other plans...

+ Part I +

-> Read it on ao3

Chapter Summary: In which Professor Laufeyson lends you his shirt.

Taglist (taglist is open! message, dm, or reply to this post to be added!): @myraiswack @lucywrites02 @uada-animus @theatrelove3000 @crystal-28 @country-cowgirl-101 @wallywaffle @girls--girls-boys @maze-lt101

A/N: I have decided to update this story every Thursday, because who doesn’t need a middle of the week pick-me-up? Hope you’re all doing well and enjoy this chapter!

There were a lot of things you liked about your university.

The campus was gorgeous, for one. Despite being a fairly prestigious school, living off-campus was affordable in the area. The professors were some of the best in their fields.

But your favorite aspect of college might just be the libraries.

There were three on campus, each with a focus, and you currently had your setup in the one typically frequented by English students. You were on the third floor, which had posters and reminders everywhere you looked that this was the quiet section of the library. Group projects could head back down to the lobby.

Whenever you can’t focus at your apartment- whether you were scrolling endlessly through your phone or keep getting up to grab a (sad, almost expired) snack from your kitchen, there was always something at home to keep you from work. But not the library. Something about being around other students working and rows and rows of books inspired you.

And right now, you needed to be inspired.

Your paper for Professor Laufeyson’s class was getting somewhere, just not fast enough. It wasn’t that you were worried about the due date. You just wanted to give yourself lots of revision time, a good week or two to go through each and every word. Make it perfect. Tailor it to Professor Laufeyson’s taste.

...Not that you were trying to impress him. You just wanted a good grade, and after class earlier this week, he would be paying more attention than he normally would. You were just taking extra care to remain in the class with a good grade. That was all.

Tailoring your paper to Professor Laufeyson’s tastes… Your mind wanders, thinking back to your professor’s tongue tapping his teeth.

“That’s it.” You say out loud. A few heads snap up to glare at you. You shrink down in your seat. Oops.

You check the time on your computer. 12:30. You have about a half hour until your next class starts. You know you won’t get anywhere if you stay here, so you begin to pack up. There’s a Starbucks in the lobby. That should distract you, and give you a much needed energy boost. You have a lab today, that’s why you dressed in an old sweatshirt and beat up converse. No one important would see you, anyway. It was your only class.

You make your way down to the student-run Starbucks, quickly ordering and standing to the side. Because the quality here wasn’t really consistent, your orders weren’t either. You usually tried something new each time, always making sure to get your extra hot. You hated lukewarm coffee.

Your name is called out, and you thank the barista as he slips a sleeve over your drink to hand it to you. As you’re walking out of the building, your phone buzzes. Without thinking, you reach into your back pocket and pull it out. Nat.

Trying 2 focus but Bruce won’t stop grinning at me with a stupid look on his face. He just ate half of my lunch and I LET him. No clue what this means.

You let out a small laugh. You weren’t sure how you felt about your two friends maybe possibly conceivably having a thing either, but Bruce would be better for Natasha than most guys on this campus. You begin to tell her that as you make your way through the door, the crisp air causes you to shiver a bit. You’re just about to hit send when -

Your coffee cup is suddenly knocked from your grasp, and to your horror, it spills directly onto your chest. You let out the stupidest sound you’ve ever heard, something between a whine and gasp of pain as your extra hot latte seeps through your sweatshirt and onto your skin.

“Fuck!” You curse, unable to stop yourself. You clamp a hand over your mouth, bending over and grabbing your shirt to hold it as far away from your skin as possible. It’s too late. The majority of your coffee is now on your torso, running over your chest and stomach in hot drips that feel like fire. It hurt. Bad.

“I’m so sorry.” you hear a voice. You nod, not really able to look up just yet, and keep your hand over your mouth so whoever did this can’t hear your chorus of ohmygodohmygodohmygod. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Wait a second. You know that voice.

You look up, absolutely horrified to see Professor Laufeyson watching you with a furrowed brow. But not in amusement or annoyance like you’re used to: worry. Not a ton. He’s looking at you like the pain you’re experiencing is nothing more than, like, a hangnail. But still. He’s worried, and you’ve never seen that on him.

That, however, isn’t really on your mind right now.

“It’s fine.” you take your hand away from your mouth. Your voice is strained. You stand up straight, still doing your best to keep your sweatshirt from touching your burning skin. You open your mouth to say more, but shut it, unsure of what to say.

“You…” Professor Laufeyson eyes the now empty coffee cup on the pavement. “Do you need to go to the health center?”

“What? Dude, no.” in your frenzied state, you let the informal word slip out. “I’m sorry. No, professor, I don’t need the health center.” They could give you either a bandaid or a condom, neither of which would serve you particularly well right now.

If your professor is offended by your lack of formality, he doesn’t show it. He clears his throat, and takes his hand off your shoulder. It makes you shudder, the loss of contact.

“Do you have something you can change into?” he asks evenly. You’re still looking anywhere but him, trying desperately not to think about how much your chest hurts and how much of an idiot you must look like in front of one of the best professors here.

“No. Professor, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have,” you grit your teeth. Did you really have to get the coffee extra hot? “Shouldn’t have been on my phone.”

You look at your professor now. He has his own phone in his hand.

“Ah.” you say. Professor Laufeyson slips it into his pocket. You’re both quiet for a minute, until the man lets out a sharp intake of air. “Well, um… I have class in twenty minutes, professor, and I-”

“Come with me.” he turns around, and begins walking back down the steps. You don’t move, unsure of what he could be doing. “Come on.” he says, and you listen. It was a demand, one that honestly had intimidated you a little bit, and you find yourself trailing behind him. You cross your arms over the brown stain on your chest as you walk across campus, trying to wrap your head around what’s going on.

Professor Laufeyson leads you into the English building, nodding at a few passing professors as he does. He stops at an office you’ve never been in, pulling out a key and quickly unlocking the door. He ushers you in.

“What?” you watch as the professor shuts the door behind you both. The blinds on the windows are closed, and you look around. The room has very little in it, no more than a desk and bookcase with some textbooks and plaques.

“This is my office.” Professor Laufeyson tells you. “Perhaps you would know if you ever took advantage of office hours.”

“I’ve never needed to.” you grumble. You turn back to your professor. You can’t tell, but it looks like he may be smiling at your retort. Just a bit.

“Here.” he approaches you, a large cable knit sweater in his hands. It’s navy. You’ve seen him wear it before.

“Professor.” you say. “I can’t-”

“Please.” he interrupts you. “It can’t be good for you to continue wearing that. Just,” he pushes the sweater closer to you. “Take it.”

You can tell this isn't an argument you’re going to win, and tentatively, you accept the gesture. Professor Laufeyson looks relieved, and turns around so he can’t see you. You feel your heart speed up.

“You want me to…?”

“You said you have class, right? Just put it on.”

“Okay.” you say softly. Professor Laufeyson sounds angry. You drop your bookbag, slowly taking your ruined white sweatshirt off.

“What class do you have?”

“Pardon?”

“I,” Professor Laufeyson clears his throat. “I wonder, what class do you have?”

You realize this must be your professor’s attempt to make this less… awkward. You swallow.

“One of Dr. Stark’s labs.” you say. You see Professor Laufeyson’s head cock to the side. His silky hair moves with it. You try not to think about this, about the fact you’re standing shirtless in his office.

This was so inappropriate. Your angry skin prickles, as if to remind you that even if that was the case, you kind of had no other choice. You start to tug Professor Laufeyson’s sweater over your head.

“You wore white to a lab?” he asks incredulously.

“It’s an old sweatshirt.” you finish putting the navy garment on. The sweater is huge, reaching halfway down to your knees. It’s soft, so soft, and actually does something to soothe your skin. Your cheeks heat up at the realization this shirt had been on your professor’s own bare chest. Was it weird to pay attention to that? If it is, you mentally decide to forgive yourself. This whole thing was weird.

“Alright.” you say in a voice barely above a whisper. Professor Laufeyson faces you again. He looks at you, and you think you see his eyes widen. It was probably just a trick of the light.

“Well.” Professor Laufeyson checks his watch. “You have two minutes. Would you like me to email Dr. Stark? Explain why you may be late?”

“Um,” you consider the offer as you stuff your sweatshirt into your bookbag. “I’ll um, see if I need you to do that. I can email you tonight, if you want.”

“Yes.” he nods. “Please do.”

“Okay. I’ll just… Go.”

And you do.

“You look cute!” says your lab partner as you sit down. Dr. Stark glares at you. You mouth ‘sorry’ at him (it was that kind of class. If you had to be uber formal with Professor Laufeyson, Dr. Stark was the opposite. He tried once to get you to call him Tony. You refused) because you did end up being late. You stopped in the bathroom to make yourself seem more normal. Professor Laufeyson’s sweater had three buttons towards the neck, and you unbuttoned all of them. You did a classic french tuck - because you obviously had seen Queer Eye - and pulled your hair back. It wasn’t perfect, but it made the sweater seem more like yours and less like Professor Laufeyson’s.

Professor Laufeysons!

“Thanks.” You say. Wanda beams at you. You’re quickly becoming close, the two of you. Wanda was your age, a transfer student. She was smart, almost painfully so, and didn’t hang around many people. Just you and her brother.

You feel bad for your new friend as you start and proceed to continually mess up the lab. Your sleeves get in the way a few times, but besides that, you’re just distracted. By the time class is over, you’re desperate to just get back home so you can think. Or process. That was a more accurate term.

You expect Dr. Stark to call you over to his desk as you file out the door, but he doesn’t. Oh well. That lets you get to your car all the more faster, making some very questionable driving choices as you speed back to your apartment. You practically throw the door open, quickly locking it behind you and looking at yourself in the mirror.

Unreal. This whole thing, this whole day. You stare at your reflection, at the girl wearing Professor Laufeyson’s perfectly kempt sweater and just shake your head.

You walk over to your couch, not even bothering to kick off your shoes as you collapse on it. You have homework - a lot of it, you always do. But your eyes are getting heavy. You close them, letting yourself relax for the first time the day.

You take a deep breath, and you realize that Professor Laufeyson’s shirt smells like him. You didn’t even know he had a smell - how would you? But now, wrapped up in his clothing and in the safety of your living room, you’ve never been more aware of anything. It’s intoxicating, almost, the musky scent of pine and leather. There was a sweeter smell too, vanilla, you think. It’s like Professor Laufeyson is in the room with you. Even better, like he’s laying on the couch with you. You remember his strong hand on your shoulder, and think about how it must feel to be held by a man like him.

You want to keep imagining, you want to hold onto this, because it’s probably the most exciting thing that’s going to happen to you for awhile. But the exhaustion brought on by shock and pain finally takes its toll, and you slip into sleep before you can even set an alarm.

You get to Professor Laufeyson’s class somewhat early the next day. You had woken up to an email from him, one that explained he emailed Dr. Stark after all. That explained why you hadn’t been scolded in front of the entire class. You were also told to look into buying some aloe vera.

There’s no one in the classroom yet except for Professor Laufeyson at his desk. You take a seat in the one you always sit in, taking note of the coffee cup that sits on the corner.

You eye Professor Laufeyson, but he’s distracted, reading some book with an ornate cover. Or at least pretending to. You snatch the cup, looking at the little check boxes on the side. It’s from Starbucks, and it’s the exact same drink you ordered yesterday, except this time, it’s iced.

You’re about to say something to your professor, but the rest of the students quickly start to appear, Natasha being one of them. She pouts at you as she sees the coffee.

“You didn’t tell me you were going somewhere. I would have texted you my order.” she says. You flash her a grin.

“Sorry.” you apologize. “It was, um, unexpected.” you begin to feel someone’s gaze on you. You turn to Professor Laufeyson, and feels a surge of pride when you see he’s looking back.

Your eye contact falls quickly as he stands up to begin the class. Your professor pays attention to every student but you for the rest of the period. Normally that would bug you.

But today, it doesn’t.

94 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Gavin’s Location Scouting Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (堪景之约) which has not been released in other servers! 🍒

Do read the prologue first for context: here

[ This date was released in CN on 10 Sep 2020 ]

MC: Temporarily closed?

Picking garden owner: Yes, there was a rainstorm last night, and the windows of the storehouse weren't shut tightly, so all the tools in the garden got drenched. We have no choice but to close down the garden temporarily.

MC: Just letting us take a few simple photos of the view will do. There’s no need to actually do the picking.

Picking garden owner: The garden is in complete disarray... it’s not very suitable for photographs, I’m sorry.

MC: It’s all right... thank you for the hard work.

Today is the last day we’re gathering materials of the scenery, and we have more or less visited every nook and cranny of this little town.

This picking garden was originally meant to be the final stop, but I didn’t expect such an incident to occur.

After saying goodbye to the owner of the picking garden, the final glimmer of hope in my heart is extinguished. I lean against Gavin’s side weakly.

Gavin: Are you all right? Don’t be discouraged - let’s ask for some advice from town’s tourist centre. Maybe things will take a turn for the better.

Gavin wraps an arm around me, patting my right shoulder in a comforting manner.

MC: All right, I’ll give it a try.

I nod repeatedly, whipping out my phone and getting the contact information of the person in charge of the tourist centre.

Person in charge: I see. You’ve already been to all the other scenic spots in the town... Oh yes, the only university in the town - Hai Bin University - is holding an open house. If you don’t have other back-up plans, why not have a look?

After hanging up, I recall how I had participated in my university’s open house. It was indeed filled with interesting memories, and I think the potential content from taking photographs there would be very rich.

Gavin: Once you’ve decided, we can set out.

He takes out his phone, actions nimble as he enters the destination into the navigation system.

Gavin: Hai Bin University is very near from here. We can head over on foot. And also take a look at that street we passed by when we were in the car yesterday.

MC: That sightseeing street?

Gavin: Mm, I remember you mentioning that you wanted to take another look if you had the chance. There’s a chance now.

MC: That’s great! Does this count as an unexpected bonus?

I smile and take a step forward, holding Gavin’s hand. His lips are hooked into a slight smile, and he tightens his grip on my fingers.

In order to attract tourists, the developer specifically re-constructed most of the buildings in the town to have a European style.

Perhaps due to it being the final day of gathering materials, Gavin and I walk along the small path leisurely, which exudes the atmosphere of a foreign country.

The temperature of this seaside town in early autumn is favourable. Occasionally, we’d pass by streets lined with chinese parasol trees, the rustling leaves pleasing.

Suddenly filled with regret that we had been spending the past few days rushing around various scenic spots, I slow down my pace.

Gavin seems to sense this. He cooperates, slowing down his pace to match mine.

I sneak a glance at Gavin’s side profile, and I can’t help but smile.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

Noticing my movement, Gavin turns his head to ask. Gentle sunlight falls onto his eyes - clear and bright.

MC: Nothing, I just think this is really nice.

After hearing this, Gavin holds onto my hand even more tightly.

Gavin: I think so too.

Without much effort, we enter the street belonging to Hai Bin University.

Although it would take a couple more minutes before we reach the school, the streets are lined on both sides with several students who are handing out flyers.

Female students, who are in groups of twos and threes, are buzzing about the activities happening in school. Tall male students walk past, holding onto basketballs.

It’s the perfect depiction of a beautiful youth.

I turn to Gavin, who is standing next to me.

The sunlight of early autumn is warm and bright, softening Gavin’s originally cold and stern side profile.

MC: Gavin, if you were in university, you would have been the focus of the school. For example, you’d be the face of the basketball team - the handsome guy surrounded and spectated by juniors at every competition...

Gavin’s line of sight shifts from the navigation map on his phone to me, his eyebrows arched.

Gavin: What about you?

[ Option A: Nothing special ]

MC: My... my life in university wasn’t anything special. It was the same as high school - I went to class, rushed my thesis in the library, and then graduated before I even realised it.

[ Option B: Very rich and colourful ]

MC: Now that I think about it, my university life was always very interesting. I made a lot of like-minded friends, and even participated in many meaningful activities.

MC: But if you were around, I might have been a cheerleader for your basketball team.

Right after I finish speaking, a tall male student with a strong build strides towards us, pointing at the flyers in his hand.

Student A: Schoolmates! Are you talking about basketball? Want to participate in our shooting competition?

I didn’t expect Gavin and I to be mistaken as students in this university, much less invited to participate in a competition. Slightly embarrassed, I hurriedly wave my hands.

MC: We’re not...

Student A: The rules are very simple! If you make 3 three-pointers out of 5 shots, you can bring back a stuffed animal.

He points at the picture of a gigantic rabbit stuffed toy on the leaflet. Its fluffy ears are pinkish, and it looks incredibly cute.

Student A: Not winning a stuffed toy for your girlfriend? She seems to like it very much.

While I’m still thinking of how to reject him, Gavin has already agreed.

Gavin: Lead the way.

I’m dumbfounded. Gavin gives our interlocked hands a squeeze, pulling me closer to him.

Gavin: The rabbit stuffed toy - do you like it?

MC: I like it, but there’s really no need to participate.

Gavin: Since we’re already here, why not experience it. Whatever you like, I’ll help you get it.

He looks at me seriously as he speaks. His eyes are full of light. My heart suddenly feels warm, as though great strength has been poured into it.

MC: I’ll put in even more effort when taking photographs then!

Likely attributed to the school’s open house, large banners and posters decorate the interior of the school, and students are dressed in all sorts of manners.

When we reach the venue of the basketball competition, there are already several people in the queue.

Most of the participants are student couples.

The male students roll their wrists and showcase some mock shooting postures, while the female students are at the side cheering them on.

The entire area seems to be infected by their energy.

However, perhaps due to the sheer number of people watching, the male students repeatedly fail to shoot the balls through the hoop.

The thin and frail boy standing in front of Gavin seems to be particularly anxious, and I can even see both of his hands trembling slightly.

Very, soon, it’s the boy’s turn. I watch as he dribbles the ball, looking as though he isn’t as strong as he wishes to be. Then, he throws the ball unsteadily into the air. It doesn’t even touch the basket.

His three consecutive tries are unsuccessful.

Gavin takes the ball from the dejected-looking boy. He casually dribbles it twice. With a jump, he could get a three-pointer.

My expectant gaze is on the basket -- the ball circles the hoop twice, then falls outside of it.

Just as I’m prepared to comfort Gavin, he retrieves the ball and says softly:

Gavin: I’ve more or less gotten the feel of it.

While I’m stunned, Gavin lifts his head towards the basket.

With a slight tiptoe, his movements are clean as he jumps.

At the peak of his jump, he flicks his wrist, sending the basketball flying in a beautiful parabola across the air, hitting the backboard steadily. The ball rebounds, falling into the basket.

Scorekeeper: The first one to shoot it in!

Gavin dribbles the ball, staring at the faraway basket. Very quickly, he shoots the second ball through the hoop.

Without blinking, I stare at Gavin’s side profile, feeling both nervous and expectant for his next shot.

In contrast to the earlier two shots, this time, his expression is more at ease, and he casually dribbles the ball next to him.

He lifts his hand-- Takes aim--

With a light flick of his wrist, the third ball goes through the hoop, his movements done in one connected breath.

Audience: Good shot!!

The spectators erupt into cheers, and even the male students who are watching can’t help but whistle.

However, the main protagonist who garnered such cheers doesn’t seem to care about the noisy crowd. His gaze is on me, and he seems to be smiling yet not smiling.

Gavin: [mouthing the words] Cheerleader.

I snort with laughter, placing my hands at the side of my mouth to mimic a loudspeaker.

MC: Incredibly, unmatchably dashing!!

Of course, Gavin wins the biggest rabbit plush toy. I hug it as I walk next to him, the heavy happiness in my hands channelling into my heart.

Students who pass by and see the gigantic plush in my hands cast me envious glances.

Unexpectedly receiving “salutes” with their eyes, I feel just like the plush in my hands, stuffed to the brim with pride and satisfaction.

It’s as though I’m not hugging a simple rabbit plush, but the most precious, unique treasure in the entire world.

While I indulge in my imagination, the weight in my hands suddenly disappears.

Gavin takes the doll from me, carrying it on his shoulder. His other hand holds mine.

Gavin: Where else do you want to take photos?

Just as I’m about to respond to his question, we’re stopped by the frail-looking boy who was queuing in front of Gavin earlier.

Student B: May I ask... if you could sell the doll to me?

After I bluntly reject this strange request, the boy stammers incoherently for a long time before we finally understand the reason for it.

He wanted to give the doll to a girl he likes, but since he couldn’t seem to shoot the ball through the hoop, he had no choice but to ask us to sell the doll to him.

Student B: S-so could I trouble you to sell it to me? Please!

MC: I’m sorry. Even though I really want to help you, this doll is an important gift to me.

Student B: It’s all right, my request was too unreasonable. Looks like I really won’t stand a chance then...

Looking at his dejected state, Gavin, who has remained silent all this while, suddenly speak up.

Gavin: If you truly like the other person, you should tell her directly about how you genuinely feel. Don’t use such half-hearted methods.

Student B: ...I've tried it. But every time I’m alone with her, I can't speak properly. Afterwards, she happened to join the club I formed. The club has always been pretty desolate, so the two of us eventually became friends.

MC: Isn't that a good thing?

Student B: No... I have a clumsy mouth, so my words often fail to convey what I mean, which has caused a lot of misunderstandings, making her unhappy. She wasn’t here to prepare for the open house activities, so I wanted to give the doll to her, in hopes that she wouldn't leave the club...

The boy grows increasingly gloomy as he speaks. As I deliberate on how to comfort him, Gavin furrows his brows, giving him a straightforward reminder.

Gavin: And after she doesn’t leave the club? If you don’t express how you feel, anything you do will be futile. Since she’s someone you like, there’s no need to hide it.

I rarely hear Gavin straightening out strangers. His voice sounds casual, but his amber eyes are filled with certainty.

After hearing this, the boy lowers his head even further. His brows are tightly knitted, looking as though he’s in a painful struggle.

In tacit agreement, Gavin and I don’t speak. After a very long time, the boy lifts his head, his gaze brimming with resoluteness.

Student B: What you said is right! I shouldn’t have asked for the doll from you two. No matter what, it’d only be meaningful if I go all out.

The boy grows increasingly excited as he speaks. In the end, he balls his hands into fists.

Student B: Thank you both! I’ll definitely work hard to change how she feels!

Gavin: What do you plan to do?

Gavin’s chilly voice is akin to a basin of cold water. In a moment, the boy’s hot-blooded passion turns cold to the marrow.

The boy, whose chest had been puffed up earlier, shirks back to his original self.

Student B: I... I don’t know. I actually haven’t thought about it...

Looking at his pitiful and dejected state, I sympathise with him slightly.

MC: Gavin, why don’t we help him? We could also take some photographs for material.

Gavin: Whatever you say.

MC: Come to think of it, what was the open house activity you prepared? Why did you still have time to shoot hoops?

The boy pushes up his glasses, a streak of brightness finally appearing on his gloomy face.

Student B: For this open house activity, the Glasses Society prepared a glasses fair. Our goal is to present all the different kinds of glasses in the world, and the stories behind them! But for some reason, no one came to visit, so I left temporarily!

MC: ...

Gavin: ...

Gavin and I look at his extremely excited and proud expression, and are left speechless for a long time.

There are truly all kinds of strange societies in the world... no wonder this place is so desolate.

However, since we’ve already agreed to help, I decide to think of ideas for him.

MC: Right now, I can’t think of a better way to help you woo the person you like. But we could help out with your club’s activity.

The boy’s eyes brighten.

Student B: Thank you both so much! Since you’d like to collaborate with the Glasses Society, why not wear a pair of glasses!

Gavin: ...I don’t have a habit of wearing glasses.

MC: It does sound pretty interesting though.

Even after digging through my memories seriously, I realise I haven’t seen Gavin in glasses much.

I sneak a glance at Gavin’s face, and start picturing what kind of glasses would look good on him.

We walk to the meticulously prepared activity booth prepared by the Glasses Society. As the boy mentioned, the booth is filled with a superb and dazzling collection of strange glasses.

Student B: No worries, they are all clear lens glasses, so you can pick them freely.

I casually select a pair and wear them, then pull Gavin, who is looking around his surroundings, to my side.

MC: Gavin, come and pick a pair of glasses which suit you!

Gavin can’t seem to comprehend my sudden enthusiasm, and he furrows his brows.

Gavin: I don’t need them.

MC: Just treat it as trying out a different style!

Such a rare opportunity to see Gavin in glasses - I must definitely have a feast!

There are glasses with frames, glasses without frames, aviator sunglasses, golden-rimmed glasses... Not long after, a little mountain of glasses appears on the table before Gavin.

Gavin: ...I’ll try two or three then.

I pick up the golden-rimmed glasses, putting them onto Gavin’s face excitedly.

The delicate frame doesn’t shroud Gavin’s coolness, and even brings out the depths of his eyes.

It’s just that... he looks a little too dashing.

I retrieve the glasses from Gavin’s face, putting them back in their original place without a second glance. Then, I hold up a pair of black-framed glasses which have a rounded edge.

I place it against Gavin’s face and gesture with it.

MC: Oo... this one isn't bad.

Gavin: You like this one?

MC: Mm, it looks especially nice on your face.

Hearing this, Gavin leans down slightly. Gently, I hook the temple tips of the glasses behind his ears.

The rounded and blunt frame seems to soften Gavin’s sharp and distinct lower jaw. With the refraction of the lenses, his brown pupils exude refreshing coolness.

In glasses, Gavin looks incredibly youthful. The black frames add a foreign, bookish aura to him.

Although they are clearly just a pair of normal glasses, they give off modelling vibes when Gavin wears them.

I seem to enter a trance while staring at him.

Gavin: MC? You...

MC: [coughs] This pair then!

Having selected “equipment” for Gavin, I’m just about to head out when he pulls me.

Gavin: Hold on. You’re not ready yet.

I turn around to look at Gavin as he holds his chin, looking at the display cabinet and pondering seriously.

Before I can react, he has already made his choice. He holds up a pair of reddish-brown clear lens glasses.

Turning around, he gently takes off the glasses I had picked out randomly just now. After tucking stray hairs behind my ears, he helps me put on the glasses in his hands.

Probably because we were outside for too long just now, his fingers are cold. However, when his ice-cold fingertips brush my ear, I feel my ears heat up slightly.

I cast a glance towards a mirror by the side, realising that the rounded glasses are extremely cute.

MC: It doesn’t really matter which glasses I wear...

Gavin: But it’s very cute like this. [coughs] ...a different type of cuteness as compared to the usual.

I tidy my hair a little unnaturally, then meet his eyes expectantly.

MC: How is it?

Gavin: As expected, very pretty. But it’s not the glasses that look pretty. It’s the person who looks pretty.

His hand lingers on my ear, his thumb and forefinger stroking my earlobe softly.

Hearing such a direct compliment, my face flushes slightly.

Now that the both of us are in glasses, we return to the activity area of the school with the male student.

I raise the small signboard, calling out from time to time. Gavin stands next to me quietly.

After a while, people actually start coming over to make enquiries. However, most of them are females, and they flock around Gavin so he can explain more about this “Glasses Society”.

Also holding onto a small signboard, the President of the club stands at the side, looking slightly defeated.

Student B: I spent the afternoon running around to advertise, but no one came. This world really does look at appearances...

??: What are all of you doing?

Turning towards the voice, I see a pretty and petite girl with shoulder-length hair looking startled as she stands nearby.

Female student: President, you’re...

At the side, the male student is akin to a boiled prawn, stuttering incoherently.

I know that this is probably the girl he likes.

Student B: I’m... working hard to attract people to participate in the activity we prepared!

Female student: I see...

The girl looks at me carefully, then at Gavin who is standing at the back.

Female student: Since... you already have people helping you, I’ll leave first...

Just as the female student turns to leave, I pull her to a stop without hesitation.

MC: Please wait!

At this stage, why isn't that fellow doing anything! I frantically throw a glance at the male student.

Gavin discreetly lifts his hand, and the male student suddenly staggers out, giving the female student a fright.

Standing behind the male student, Gavin gives me a look, and I immediately understand.

MC: This President has something to say to you.

The President, whose face is completely flushed, balls his hands into fists. He takes a deep breath.

Student B: I hope you can return to the club!

Female student: Ah, w-why?

Student B: Because!

The President’s volume suddenly increases, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Student B: Because you’re my most important member! I... I hope that I can see you every day, and be with you... to continue developing this club!

Even though the male student still fails to say the most straightforward words, the sincerity and urgency in his tone are evident.

After being stunned for a moment, the girl seems to understand his unspoken words. She lowers her bright red face, hesitating for a while.

Female student: Mm... then, I won’t leave.

The male student walks to her, nodding solemnly. Both of them burst into silly laughter, their faces red.

MC: He did it!!

Gavin can’t help but laugh. He walks to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

Gavin: It’s a good thing he didn’t miss out on even more.

As Gavin speaks, he tightens his hold on me.

I lift my head to look at him. In his eyes, I can only see myself.

After saying goodbye to the students from the Glasses Society, Gavin and I experience several other open house activities in the school, and collect a full storage card worth of materials.

Right now, it’s almost evening. The twilight of early autumn dyes the sky a reddish pink.

As the day draws to a close, students from several booths have begun to pack up.

Gavin and I sit on a bench at the corner of the school. Lowering my head, I look through the various materials captured in the camera.

MC: Youth is really nice. It’s.a shame I didn’t have such a wild time in university. But no matter what, this task of collecting materials is a complete success. We even witnessed a beautiful romance, so there’s really no loss.

Realising that I've been talking a lot, I pause and look at Gavin.

He’s still wearing the pair of glasses the male student gave to us as a souvenir. As a result, the sharp contours of his side profile have softened by quite a large extent.

Seeming to notice my gaze, Gavin turns his head towards me.

Gavin: How do you want to go wild?

MC: Erm, for example...

At the moment, I actually can’t think of what could constitute a dynamic, spectacular experience that one definitely can’t miss out on. So I toss the question back to him.

MC: What about you?

Gavin doesn’t respond. A strong gale suddenly whips up, causing fallen leaves to dance in the air, as though seeking to cover the both of us up.

Students in the surroundings immediately hold down their items, and some can’t even open their eyes because of the wind.

Only the air surrounding Gavin and I flows peacefully.

Gavin gently caresses the side of my face. His gaze lingers, as though seeking to etch my appearance deeply in his mind.

I place my palm on the back of his hand, concentrating on its warmth.

We stare into each other’s eyes, as though we have been paused in this moment forever.

Gavin: This kind of wind... is it okay?

[Note] Our Bespectacled Boy uses wordplay here.

“Go wild” is translated from 疯一回 (“feng yi hui”)

“Wind” is 风 (“feng”)

👓 MOMENTS 👓

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: Deep respect for everyone who wears glasses!

Gavin: You were just saluting people who eat ice-cream in winter yesterday.

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: I have a feeling you’ll leave these glasses unused next time...

Gavin: I’ll wear them in the office to guard against blue light.

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: Hahaha just thinking about how we looked in the noodle shop makes me want to laugh.

Gavin: Still want to have supper tonight?

Call: First // Second

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #h n g h #I teared up from the cuteness

135 notes · View notes

arigatouiris · 4 years

Text

i’ll remember you // kuroo tetsuroo x reader (1/3)

Author’s Note: I absolutely adore the movie Kimi no Na Wa, and I guess this is a sort of reprised version? Don’t ask me how I got the idea, I have no clue lmao. Just started writing it one day and this is what I came up with. I gave it three parts because the whole thing is quite long. Do tell me what you think!

Word count: 4243

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuroo x Reader [Kimi no Na Wa re-write]

Summary: Everything had been perfectly normal until you woke up as a volleyball captain from a school you didn't go to, in a city you didn't live in. Ever since then, Kuroo Tetsuroo has been inching closer and closer into your life, wrecking almost everything that could perhaps be considered normal.

However, you never realized how vital he was to you; because you were sure you would understand upon seeing him.The struggle however, was remembering each other. Because what good would it do if you went to saw him and he didn't remember you?

Well, the universe turns back time, of course. Until he did.

Warnings: angst, body-swapping, fantasy, reader is depressed, mentions of suicide, character death, slow burn, bittersweet end, awkward boners, mentions of porn

ｃｈ．０１ — ｃｏｕｎｔｒｙｂｕｍｐｋｉｎ

You could not remember how you had fallen asleep last night.

You woke up with a faint stinging in the back of your head as if someone had hit you with a ball. You groaned, but you sounded gruffer than you'd remembered; as if you had an itch in your throat that you couldn't quite clear off. You felt as if your entire body had been stretched out longer than you were and it was strange, it wasn't as if you were injured or anything. You just cried yourself to sleep because you were turned down by the person you had a crush on for quite some time now. Letting out a breath, which you swore sounded like someone else instead, you raised yourself to come face to face with a room you had never seen before.

You could hear vehicles on the road outside, and your eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what was going on. You probably were still dreaming, that's for sure, since the first thing you'd always saw when you woke up was the window right in front of you. Now, there was no window but just a plain grey wall with a poster of a rather weird looking rat-like thing with a robot on its back, and the window instead was near the table with stacks and stacks of books lying on top of it. For a dream, this had way too much detail, but it wasn't as if you could complain. At least you weren't dreaming of Akio-kun, so that was something.

"What in the world?"

Your eyes widened instantly before your hand went to wrap around your throat; and you let out a squeak, which again, didn't sound like you. Your heart was racing now and you searched for the bathroom in this dream and rushed inside, and your eyes came in contact with one of the most handsome boys you had ever seen. His hair could use a fix-up, but considering how you'd just woken up, you guessed this is how his bed hair looked like. His features were incredibly well-divided, his teeth were perfect, and he was freaking tall.

You were somebody else. Somebody handsome. Your eyes widened before feeling something heavy downward, a strange warmth spread all over your body when you looked down to see something poking out through the boy's underwear. Your face instantly reddened before screaming, not thinking if he lived alone or if his family could hear. You didn't care; you were not this boy, you were in a strange place.

Running back to the room, you tried to look for anything that made sense, anything that could let you know who this person was and how it was that you got here. It had to be a dream, but you had slapped yourself or him enough times to wake up but you were still here. Panic rushed through you, but perhaps it was because this boy didn't have terrible anxiety like you, you could strangely calm yourself down. You found his phone and thank goodness it didn't have a pin, because, for the life of you, you didn't have this boy's memories.

What the heck, you thought, and even your mind voice changed into this boy's voice and it unnerved you. It wasn't as if you never dreamed of something like this, but for it to actually happen in such great detail, it didn't flatter you; it was a big inconvenience. At least I don't have to face Akio-kun, you thought before opening this boy's phone, and learning that he was perhaps an anime fan.

You discovered through his text messages that his name was Kuroo. You were yet to discover his first name, but that was for later. You were in Tokyo, a city far, far away from your own, a city you had never been to but had always wanted to go and live in, and you had discovered that he was the volleyball captain for his school. You remember playing a little bit of volleyball back in middle school, but you were a second-year high school student in Fukue Gakuen, sports weren't as prominent as teasing girls and crushing on boys. You'd learned that Kuroo was best friends with someone named Yaku (or you weren't sure if the members in the group were being sarcastic, for this Yaku person did not even like being addressed in such a way), and there was someone named Kenma. You'd heard of Instagram but students from Fukue generally spent more time gossiping than on their phones, especially with limited internet access.

You guessed things in Tokyo were different since the internet was relatively quite fast here. You clicked on Instagram before thinking you were blessed. You tried as hard as you could to memorize how the volleyball team looked, how Kenma looked, and in each and every one of those pictures, Kuroo himself looked rather dashing, and you wondered if this dream would end soon or not.

"Tetsu!" An ugly voice rammed itself into the room and you almost dropped your Kuroo's phone.

You turned around to spot a middle-aged man with a stubble, a nasty frown on his face which died down on seeing you there, standing with your phone, in the middle of the room. To whoever this person was, you were Kuroo and you decided to stay mum until he left.

"Ah, you're awake. Damn, thought you were still asleep," The man rubbed the back of his neck, "You're going to be late for school, moron. Go get ready. And," He cringed before pointing to your pants, "Take care of that, for god's sakes."

Your face reddened before your hands rushed downward, feeling Kuroo's private parts sticking out uncharacteristically. You knew why this happened, and even if you were from the country, that didn't mean you were unaware of the morning wood. You had a friend who'd given you all the unnecessary details, especially when you didn't want it.

"Uh, so... Who are you?" You asked, taking a risk.

"Ah?!" The man didn't even look offended, "Your goddamn father, go wash the sleep off your face, Tetsu!"

Oh, so it was his father! You wanted to ask him how to get rid of the morning wood in other easier ways, but you guessed that Kuroo or Tetsu wasn't such a person. You took a breath before heading inside the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it'd eradicate your problem. You were accustomed to calling Tetsu's body as your own now because this was where you were for the time being, and it didn't make sense that you had to correct yourself constantly. You found his uniform sprawled on the nightstand, which made your eyebrow twitch with annoyance; whoever this Kuroo was, he sure as heck didn't care how he looked like. Despite looking like a demigod, you thought before putting on your shoes.

You didn't take a peek at his... private parts. You took a bath with his underwear, trying hard not to drool over how toned his body was. Maybe, he took the whole volleyball thing quite seriously; you'd heard of how Tokyo schools were all about championships and leagues, and the volleyball scene was quite huge in Japan. You managed to change his underwear somehow and put on new ones with your eyes closed and it was then the most important thought, the one you had been sitting on all this while, hit you.

What if he's in my body!?

Your eyes widened and your hands flew to your face, but somehow seeing Kuroo with his hands on his face made you blush harder at how out-of-character it was. You didn't even know who this Kuroo person was, but giving him feminine mannerisms made you feel weird.

He better not have... You thought before feeling uncomfortable, but there was honestly nothing you could do at this point. Perhaps, he was just as weirded out, perhaps, he was just as confused as you were and wouldn't try to do anything stupid.

You didn't know how to get to school, but it was something you knew you'd have to solve. Grabbing everything that he otherwise needed, his wallet, his bag, and a small part of you was excited that you were getting to travel in Tokyo and live a day in Tokyo as someone else. Despite how different it felt. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you walked out of the house, and on your way out, you noticed how the house looked. It was a simple-looking house but the lack of woodwork made your feet feel weird. Kuroo wore indoor slippers, and so did his father, and two others who looked like they were his grandparents. Where's his mother? You thought in Kuroo's voice before noticing his father approach you.

"Eat," He snapped, "Don't walk out without eating."

"Okay."

For some reason, Kuroo's father turned and looked at you with a funny expression. He was just as tall as Kuroo, which must have explained where the height came from. You cocked your eyebrow at him, wondering if you had said anything strange, but you were sure you hadn't.

"We've got toast." The dad mumbled quietly before walking away, coming to place something on the kotatsu.

You found it rather easy to sit and get back up, but toast for breakfast? You were more of a rice and egg person in the morning, but perhaps Kuroo didn't pay attention to what he ate. After breakfast, you ignored the weird look Kuroo's father was giving you before heading out, to find Kenma waiting outside the gate, playing something on a weird horizontal device.

"What are you doin' here?"

Kenma paused the game before turning and looking at you, cocking an eyebrow at you funnily.

"Waiting for you, did you forget that we go to school together?"

"Ah," You rubbed the back of Kuroo's neck, "Must'a slipped my mind—"

"What's with the country accent?" Kenma mumbled before putting his game inside and you froze.

You completely forgot about trying to maintain an accent. You weren't sure if you could tell Kenma what had happened, but you knew that if someone were to come and tell you they had slipped out of their body and entered someone else's, you'd definitely not believe them, and not only that, you'd worry for their mental health.

"I was watching something last night," You tried to shake off Kenma's suspicion, but every word that slipped out of your mouth sounded disastrously weird to you, "Don't mind me."

"You're acting strange, Kuroo."

"I said don't worry about it." You looked away.

Kenma was perhaps as tall as you were in real life. Kuroo was certainly tall, and you believed he was probably one of the tallest in his school. Well, I'm glad I don't have to find my way to school, you thought before following Kenma, following after every one of his actions. Taking out the card that he used for the train, taking a right when he took a right, taking a left when he took a left—strange, you thought before noticing the school in the distance, I think we took a long way around.

"Right, so spill," You heard Kenma say, grasping your wrist, "Who are you?"

Eh? Your eyes widened and you instantly blushed at his question. How the hell did he get to know? What was he even suggesting?

"What? Kenma-kun, I—"

"You are definitely not Kuroo. I had my suspicions, but the '-kun' confirmed it."

You were sure you were panicking now. The school was just meters away and Kenma had thrown a bomb at you. Whoever this little rat was, he was sure as hell was perceptive. You tried to breathe, but the anxiety was starting to bubble in your chest. Turning to meet Kenma in the eye, you gave him a worried expression, which he just ignored.

"Lemme explain, I ain't from around 'ere."

Kenma nodded, "I figured as much. How are you here?"

You shook your head, "I 'ave no clue. I just woke up and I'm 'ere. I'm not even from Tokyo!"

Kenma sighed, before leading you inside. He gestured you to follow and handed you something from inside his bag. It was a face mask. You took it from him before hearing him say,

"Don't talk to anyone. Just tell them you have a cold."

You narrowed your eyes. This Kenma person seemed almost prepared for something like this. Was it something that happened a lot with Kuroo? As strange as it sounded, was it your first time and not his? You put on the mask quietly before following after him, before tugging his sleeve. Kenma paused before swatting your hand away.

"Kuroo doesn't do that. We'll talk during lunch. Go to class 3-1."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

He gave you a strange look but ignored you. It was funny how Kenma and Kuroo didn't share a class, but that didn't matter. The mask helped. However, Kenma hadn't told you where you sat, and the class was already occupied. Oh no, you thought before scanning your eyes all over every desk in the classroom. Where does he sit? Does he sit by the window like an anime character? Where does he—

"Kuroo-san," A voice sounded from behind you and you froze before turning to see a teacher, "Please go to your desk—oh? Are you sick?"

You gave her a helpless smile before realizing that the mask must have covered most of your smile, so you were just closing your eyes at her. She sighed before pointing to a particular desk, and said, "Go."

You nodded before thanking her a gazillion times inside your head and sitting over there. Homeroom was quite strange; the kids were just minding their own business and some of the students weren't even paying attention to what the teacher was saying. You wondered what kind of student Kuroo was, but taking one good look at his notes made you understand just where you were sitting.

He was in a college preparatory class. This Kuroo person was a smartass.

He was good at subjects you were terrible at. Math. Chemistry. Physics. He was great at those, but he wasn't too bad at biology, English and Japanese. Both of you seemed to dislike history, but you didn't think literature was too bad, but Kuroo hated it. He refused even to take notes of the same. Your fingers loomed over his notes and despite the terrible handwriting, you could tell that he worked hard.

"Kuroo-san," The teacher sounded, offering you a soft smile, "Please get better soon."

Your eyes were wide at the sudden show of concern and you smiled before nodding and realized that no one in class even paid attention. Some of the girls came over to you and asked you if you were alright, but just from one look at them, you realized they were trying to flirt. You didn't know what annoyed you, but suddenly, you saw yourself in one of the girls, and how you'd throw yourself at Akio-kun. Was this how it felt? You thought before clearing your throat.

"Girls, I really can't talk right now." You tried to say in your fake city accent and heard moans of disapproval from them.

You wanted to snap at everyone personally and tell them that maybe Kuroo didn't care about them at all. Maybe, this Kuroo person was a flirt with no mind, who'd callously play with the emotions of the girls around him, only for his own benefit. And since he was from the city, he might even... he might even do some illicit activities like drugs or such. You didn't know who this Kuroo person was, but you were hoping Kenma would fill you in. If this was the life you had to live from now, a part of you worried that it would remain this way. Lunch break didn't come too early. By the time it was lunch hour, you almost felt like you indeed had a cold, and you rushed out immediately to spot Kenma standing by the door.

"Kenma-kun!"

He winced at what you called him before saying, "Drop the -kun, damnit. Kuroo never says that!"

You felt your heart shrink from being scolded, but nodded before following him. He turned to you and gave you a look before letting out a sigh.

"Let's go get lunch first."

"There's a cafeteria 'ere?"

"It's a regular school. Of course, there is. Unless the school you're from doesn't have a cafeteria—"

"We prefer takin' bentos."

Kenma and yourself managed to buy some more bread before you realized that the city folk ate a substantial amount of it. A few minutes later, Kenma began eating while walking and you just stared at him like he was committing a crime. He shot you a look before smirking and continuing his eating. The two of you walked to the roof, which was considerably less occupied than you had imagined.

"I really thought there'd be more people—"

"Have you watched the movie 'Kimi no Na Wa'?"

"What?"

Kenma let out a sigh, "This happens in the movie. I'm surprised it actually happened, and to Kuroo nonetheless, but the movie prepared me, I think."

"So you knew somethin' like this was gonna happen?" You asked, narrowing your eyes.

He shook his head, "I didn't say that. Just... Familiar with something like this. Not sure why it happens and I seriously hope you're not from a remote country village that's going to be destroyed by a meteor."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, "I am from a remote country village, though... I—I'm from F-Fukue I-Island, i-it's the l-largest island i-in the G-Goto—"

"Relax, your island isn't going to be destroyed." I think, he thought but decided against telling you.

"How long is this goin' to happen for?" You asked, folding your arms in front of your chest. Standing there as Kuroo made you feel a tad bit confident, judging from how tall he was.

"Well, not sure if you're following the movie's timeline, but it happens for a while on random days. You can insert notes in Kuroo's phone for him to see so that you two can communicate whenever this happens. Text yourself to let him know."

"What if it isn't Kuroo that's... that's in my body?"

"Highly unlikely."

"But you just said that this hadn't ever happened before!"

Kenma sighed, before chewing on his bread, "You have to trust me," He said, right before taking another bite, "Besides, it's not like you can go to anyone. No one will believe you. Especially since that movie's a bit famous, they'll just think Kuroo's playing with them."

"Does he play around often?"

Kenma nodded, "All the time."

You groaned before feeling tears prick your eyes, "What was the point of the movie? When did it stop?"

"When the... male character and the female character met each other. And they saved the village that the female character lived in."

"You said—"

"I know what I said. I'm just... maybe, you have to identify what's lacking in your life and see if Kuroo has it."

You were quiet. The only recent sadness or void in your life came from being rejected brutally by Akio-kun. Your mother and you shared a strained relationship, your father had passed away long ago, your younger brother was an absolute pain. The other family you had, your aunt, lived in Tokyo, and you'd always wanted to live with her considering you were closer to your mother's sister than your mother herself. Most days you didn't even want to get off the bed. If Kuroo was in your body, you knew there was quite possibly nothing he could do that could make your life worse there.

"What's your name?"

"(s/n) (y/n)." You said, now looking at him.

Suddenly, Kenma's eyes widened at what you said.

"What?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"What do you mean what?"

That's the name of the girl who....

"Nothing."

That's the name of the girl who died three weeks ago.

The day passed by quite normally. Kenma thankfully had informed the team that Kuroo was sick and practice had been pushed to another day. Apparently the coach scared the boy, and it wasn't something that you could relate to. You'd left a note behind on Kuroo's phone, 'This is (s/n) (y/n), I hope my life didn't scare you too much!', but secretly wondered if anything strange had happened. While heading back home, you asked Kenma if Kuroo and his dad were distant.

"Hm, you could say that," Kenma said, clearly not wanting to talk about it, "Kuroo's mom passed when he was a kid. They moved here and became my neighbor. He was silent then. I think I preferred that."

You giggled and said, "You guys must really be close."

He shrugged, "I guess. We've always known each other."

"Which was why you could figure out that I'm not Kuroo."

Kenma was quiet. He'd asked you to watch the movie to understand a little more about what was going on between you and Kuroo. However, there was something else that Kenma had discovered that he wasn't telling you. If you were a year younger than Kuroo, which was what you'd mentioned, then that meant you in Kuroo's body, were from the past. Because the 'you' in the present had died three weeks ago.

It was something he knew he had to discuss with Kuroo if he hadn't figured that out already.

Just as you reached Kuroo's house, you smiled at him before saying, "Here's hoping I don't see you again."

Kenma chuckled before waving at you, knowing full well that this was going to happen again. Just as you walked away, Kenma turned to a building opposite to where he lived and let out a breath. (s/n) (y/n), huh, he thought before rubbing the back of his head, This is fucked up.

Kuroo's dad wasn't at home when you reached home. Perhaps, he was out for work? You could hear soft snoring coming from upstairs, and you figured that it must be his grandparents.

Kuroo lives with his father and grandparents, Kenma had told you. He has a permanent bed head, and his father loves him but has a temper. Kuroo hates yelling, and he thinks people who yell are degenerate, although sometimes, he gets loud himself.

You walked into Kuroo's room and let out a breath. You set his bag down and removed his uniform, before ironing them and placing them neatly in a hanger and letting them hang from the door. You tried to rid him of his bed hair to no avail, and you opened one of his books before writing another note.

I'm sorry this happened, and I'm aware that if you were living as me for a day, it must be a bit hard. But, I'm glad it's over now. I'm glad you're back to being Kuroo Tetsuroo again. And I hope it never has to happen.

When night came, you decided to eat your fill. You felt bad enough for Kuroo for having to live as you. Turning on the movie Kimi no Na Wa, you tried to watch, trying to learn what this meant. Strangely, Kuroo had already seen it since his computer had a folder that said 'Favorites' and this movie was in that folder. Back in Fukue Island, you prided yourself on how you could use the computer better than your classmates, but clearly, you weren't a genius. The movie was playing, but you couldn't hear it. Shooting a text message to Kenma, you hoped the boy could answer.

Instead, he called you.

"Kenma-kun," You could picture him wincing, "Can you please tell me what to do 'ere? I'm not able ta hear anythin'."

"Just check if it's in mute. Kuroo watches porn in mute."

Your face reddened and your eyes widened at the sudden burst of information, which you only chose to ignore. Finding the mute button, you sighed before thanking Kenma and then another thought struck your head.

He'd watched porn right before I touched it!

The shock had the laptop falling off your lap and onto the floor, a clear crack presented on its screen.

"What was that?" You could hear Kenma's alerted voice at the end of the phone.

"N-Nothin'!"

Oh no! You felt tears prick your eyes at how broken the laptop was. Scrambling to the floor, you closed the laptop before rushing over to the notebook and writing another note right below the one you had already written.

I'm sorry about your laptop! I really am!

You slapped your forehead, no Kuroo's forehead, and groaned before collapsing on the bed. Your heart was beating rapidly, and there went every chance to watch a movie that could have otherwise explained to you what was going on. If Kuroo's watched it, then he probably understands this better than I do, you thought before letting out a breath. Closing your eyes, you felt sleep pull you into a lull, a sort of comfort you hadn't felt in a very long time. The sound of your mother's voice calling you for breakfast rang in your ear; you honestly missed her with every fiber of your being.

Missed her? You felt a tear leak out of your eye. She's still alive, though...

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years

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BnHA One-Shot Fic Recs (pt1)

Making some fic-rec posts has been on my to-do list for a while and I’m finally doing it, yay! Currently I have 6 word doc pages full of just BnHA recs. So I’m splitting them up by length and completion, so first up is (part one of) one-shots! Let’s go!!!

Lets start with some classic Izuku and DadMight!

Pictures, Posters and Tender Beauty by ProPinkist (tumblr: @dazais-guardian-angel ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~4,400 words Summary: Izuku has virtually every All Might-themed item out there, and prides himself on all of it, as Toshinori is well aware. However, somehow, the boy still decided that there was something vital missing. This is fluffy and very cute. No one truly appreciates All Might as much as Izuku does, but 1A comes close. All Might deserves all the love, and this fic truly provides!!!

Dear Mr. All Might by QuizzicalCrow (tumblr: @quizzicalcrow ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~5,000 words Summary: As the #1 hero for decades, All Might has collected a lot of fan mail over the years. Toshinori tracks down a series of letters that only now, years later, does he appreciate for their significance. I always love the thought of All Might looking through his fan mail, even if he can’t get to all of it. This was a wonderful glimpse into that AND it was made to be so, so personal and sweet. Go have some heart-healing fluff.

Growing Pains by LordofLies (tumblr: @theangelofchildren ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~5,900 words Summary: Izuku finds himself changed by his encounter with the Hero Killer, but changes of a more physical kind are in store for him as he begins to truly accept One for All as his own. Once, he would have been thrilled to look more like All Might, but now those connections are as much a source of anxiety as they are of pride.Or, Izuku wakes up one morning and sees the world through different eyes. Izuku having anxiety and Toshi being there to help him through it and calm him down? Sign me UP. Its also a pretty cool take on how One for All is able to change things about it’s holder. Could this happen in cannon? Who knows.... Regardless, it was a great read!

I’ll Carry You Home by Renesvetta Rating: G Category: Gen ~2,700 words Summary: While training with All Might, it wasn’t uncommon for Izuku to be so exhausted at the end of the day that he unwittingly fell asleep without regard for where he was. It consequently became part of All Might’s routine to help his young protégé home. During that time, Izuku may have let loose more than one sleepy confession towards his mentor. Yes, it is as adorable as it sounds. Its tagged with “self indulgent Dad Might fluff” which is both accurate and appreciated. In other words: Superb you funky little writer!

Simple Gifts by QuizzicalCrow Rating: G Category: Gen ~6,700 words Summary: One year ago, Izuku received the greatest gift he could ever imagine. Now he’s determined to return the favor for the one responsible for it all with a gift of his own. First off, I love the idea of Izuku and Toshi quietly celebrating the anniversary of passing on OfA from All Might to Izuku. Even just taking the day to hang out with each other. It’s a really precious idea. But there’s not just fluff! Izuku finds himself in a fight, again. (cool villain quirk, too!) I love all of the small details that are in this fic (and in Crow’s other works, too!) anyway its exciting AND very heartwarming, so go read it!!!

Affectionate by Sevi007 (tumblr: @sevi007 ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~2,600 words Summary: Toshinori starts to show affection very easily around his students. The reactions he gets for that are not quite the ones he had anticipated - well, not all of them, at least. Toshi is LOVED, APPRECIATED, and 1A feels like HOME. how many times can i say “cute” and “heartwarming” on this post?? bc these are some amazing writers, whom I adore, and their writing makes my heart WARM. AND. FUZZY. i mean, even just the first few paragraphs of this one just, really sets the scene of what i like to believe the 1A dorm is (on a good day, lol). its a really nice read, so go treat yo’ self by reading it.

paint me in trust by dinomight Rating: G Category: Gen ~6,400 words Summary: The first mark Izuku gets is a slight brush of green across his temple. It’s the soft touch of a mother holding her son for the first time. Inko has one to match, the same shade of green staining the tips of her fingers. Hers is more noticeable; Izuku’s tends to blend into his hairline. He loves it anyways. He has to. It’s the only soulmate mark he has. (Or: how Izuku goes from just green to a rainbow, UA-style.) Ok, so this fic sort of plays off the idea of soulmates, and does not fit in with soulmates in the usual form of the trope. First off its completely platonic. Its categorized as Gen and sticks to that. Also it doesn’t seem to be as obligatory and permanent as you would think it would be. It seems to be more of the universe telling you who has the possibility of being important in your life. I really really loved this, it was so adorable and gives you that sweet, sweet Izuku angst, before healing your heart with the power of friendship and found family!!!

The Die Has Been Cast by ChiwiTheKiwi (tumblr: @chiwithekiwi ) Rating: G Category: Gen ~5,400 words Summary: “There’s something about that kid you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”When no answer meets him, Shouta tries again.“You know something about Midoriya’s quirk that you haven’t shared with me. Is that right?”(Or: A canon "What If" surrounding the latest manga events and focusing on Aizawa finally making a connection.) First off, this fic has spoilers for the manga, so dont read unless you’re past chp212! I loooooooove OfA reveal fics, especially when it’s Aizawa that finds out. He deserves to know!!! its kind of important!!!! This fic chooses a great moment to work off of, and does a great job with Aizawa’s character. I really enjoyed it and couldn’t keep myself from going back and reading it just now LOL

These last two are actually two-shots, but it makes it an even 10! also Izuku and dadmight, so we can continue the theme here...

Some Unspoken Thing by LittleKy Rating: G Category: Gen ~7,900 words (2chps) Green, Toshinori has always thought, is the color of life anew.(Or: It's time for Yagi Toshinori to finally accept that he has a son, now, in all but blood. It's time for Midoriya Hisashi to accept that as well.) YES ALL MIGHT! ADMIT THAT IZUKU IS YOUR SON! great portrayal of the characters and really hits the nail on the head for DadMight. and Izuku in this story is just the smallest green floof that you wish to give a hug. NEVER MIND ALL MIGHT, YOU TOOK TOO LONG SO IZUKU IS MY SON NOW AND IM NOT GIVING HIM BACK ( no but seriously i want to hug this fic its so cute TTuTT )

LAST BUT NOT LEAST! I See You by BirdAntlers (tumblr: @aarymk )

Rating: G Category: Gen ~15,400 words (2chps) Midoriya Izuku is a quirkless child, blind from birth. Yagi Toshinori is the most powerful man in the world, loved by millions. They could not be more different, and yet their loneliness is the same. (From a pair of AU posts on Tumblr that got way out of hand; I wanted to put it here because it turned into more of a fic than a "what-if." Basically a vessel for me to vomit as much Dadmight as I can.) Hey, you! Yeah! You! Do you want to cry? Do you want to start sobbing in a public space?? Do you just want to be destroyed with words and be left there kneeling at the feet of a writer who has torn out your heart and stomped on it before they gently wipe the tears from your face? Yeah?? y oU Wan NA D IE??? READ THIS AND GET REKT. you’ll thank me later

(under the cut is just me rambling, i kept all the important stuff up here, ur welcome)

Now that the actual recs are over I can rant here- look i really tried to slim my recs down, but i have almost 300 bnha fics bookmarked,some of them are “to read” or theyre in progress, etc but i managed to get this list sorta slimmed down? a little?(to only 58!!!) but as i was gathering this post together it felt like i dont have very many Dadmight recs on that list??? but i havent rechecked all the other fics i was just going through the oneshots. i... kinda read a lot more fics with AIzawa in it instead. it be that way. DadMight content is SO GOOD. but my fav is aizawa im sorryyyyy anyway i have another SEVENteeN oneshots to put in rec posts and that does NOT include the mulitchapter and friikin series and stuff... and like i said this is aaaaaaallllllllllllllll BnHA. batfam fic posts will come after, and then star wars, and then maybe star trek? we’ll see. i have a very specific taste in ST fics and that is Tarsus IV whump. which. i have not read in a while. when they say “that trope came from ST” for sooooooo many tropes, you WISH other fandoms had tarsus as a trope, holy crap it is TOP TIER angst fodder. if you love to write/read whump, angst, and h/c i would HIGHLY recommend that you take a bit of time and explore the content and stories there. heck maybe i will make a ficrec post for just tarsus angst. ok.

my INTENTION is to edit these posts later with little links to the other fic rec lists so that itll be easier to find. but., its me, so itll either happen in painful detail or not at all

asdjkdgh its 2:30am and i need to sleep and not be rambling incoherently again I WILL SAVE THIS AS A DRAFT.

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

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home.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: alcohol, swearing maybe, fluff

word count: 5.0k

a/n: THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. IT HURT ME THAT I STRUGGLED SO MUCH WITH THIS, BUT I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH THE WAIT. we’re going to start getting angsty again so buckle up friends.

also thank you @dameronsgalaxygal for helping me with my writers block. she is so lovely and if you're not following her you should because girl has quality writing.

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

Patience really was a virtue, except when disruptions stood in the way.

You left Cabo early that morning and didn’t land in Poe’s hometowns until early evening, six hours after your scheduled arrival time, first due to heavy delays and then a problem with the plane that was found just as boarding was about to begin.

Walking as fast as you could without running into people, you marched down the jetway, rushed through the halls and down the escalator to baggage claim where Poe would meet you. He saw you hurrying towards him and he stood from the bench he was sitting on.

“Finally!” He threw his arms out to the side in frustration that matched yours. You rolled your eyes.

“I know, I’m annoyed.”

“So, what was the problem with the plane?”

You groaned as you stopped in front of him and crossed your arms. “Something about the air vents not blowing cool air? I don’t remember what they said, I was too busy being mad that half a day was wasted stuck at an airport. I’m tired and hungry and not particularly thrilled that I’m about to go meet your dad feeling all pissed off and annoyed.”

Poe stepped into your space, placing both hands on your cheeks and pulling your mouth to his in a slow kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed.

“Still mad?” Poe asked quietly when he pulled back, his lips still ghosting over yours as he moved his arms around your waist. You gave him a half smile as your arms uncrossed and rested on top of his.

“Kinda.”

Poe kissed you again, putting a little more pressure against your lips.

“How about now?” Your smile curved upwards more and you bit your lip.

“Maybe a little bit still.”

Poe smirked and kissed you a third time, pulling you closer into him. You giggled against his mouth as he lifted you off the ground, your arms coming up around his neck to hold onto him. You broke apart as the corral alarm sounded.

“Ok, now I’m feeling better,” you said as he set you down gently, keeping you held in his embrace. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me too. And I’m glad you’re here. Should we go?”

“Please.”

Poe grabbed your hand and you waited for your suitcase to appear. You were back to groaning in annoyance as you stood for another ten minutes next to the corral waiting for your bag. When you finally had it, you followed Poe out of the airport.

You told him more about your vacation, how you discovered on your last full day that you were terrified of parasailing, but you were glad you did it because it was something you’d always wanted to try. Poe told you about Rey twisting her ankle three miles away from their car and how he and Finn switched off carrying her so she wouldn’t hurt it worse.

Your leg bounced nervously as Poe pulled up in front of a house, your heart pounding in your ears. You didn’t even realize Poe had cut the engine until you felt his hand squeezing your knee and heard the silence that filled the car.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured you. “He’s excited to meet you.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. Poe took your suitcase from the trunk of the car and you followed him up to the front door.

“Dad? We’re back!”

There was a moment of shuffling followed by footsteps and then Kes Dameron was in front of you. You marveled at their similarities. Poe was definitely his father’s son, from the shared skin tone to the same relaxed, easy smile they were both giving you.

“You must be Y/N,” Kes said, taking a step towards you with his hand outstretched. He and Poe even sounded similar. You took his hand and shook it.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I hope you’re hungry, I’ve got dinner waiting.”

“You go ahead,” Poe said, grabbing your attention and heading towards the stairs. “I’ll bring this upstairs.”

“Come in, come in, make yourself comfortable,” Kes said, holding his arm out to invite you further into his home. You followed him to the kitchen, wringing your hands nervously in front of you.

“Anything I can do to help?” You asked, looking around at the food that was going to make its way to the dining room.

“You can tell me what you’d like to drink. Beer, wine, soda..?”

“Water would just fine, actually. Between the waiting the flight itself, I didn’t drink much today.”

“So, what happened that caused such a delay?” Kes asked as he grabbed a glass of ice water for you. “I’ve done my fair share of flying and I’ve never had a delay that long.”

“There was some bad weather, then there was a problem with the plane. And then it took forever to get my suitcase.” You let out a dry laugh as you took your glass. “I just couldn’t catch a break today.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at him and grabbed a bowl to bring out to the table. Poe met you in there and went to the kitchen to grab himself something to drink. He came back to the table and Kes handed you a bowl of vegetables first to help yourself to.

“The food is delicious,” you said after taking a few bites.

“Do you cook at all?”

“I can make a few things, but nothing like this.” You said, taking a bite of food. “Though I do make a mean soup that’ll kick any sickness you have.”

Poe hummed in agreement.

“Ah see, that’s one thing I don’t have,” Kes said. “Any chance I could steal it from you?”

“Secret family recipe, I don’t think they’ll forgive me if I did that.”

“I understand. Maybe next time.” Your heart pounded at next time; ten minutes into meeting him and he was talking about next time already. “So tell me about yourself.”

You told Kes all about the most relevant things in your life at that moment in between bites of food. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you saw food in front of you that wasn’t a bag of airplane pretzels. You’d talked more about yourself in the last month than you had ever in your life, between meeting Poe’s friends and now his dad. Kes listened intently, asking questions about your family and interests that proved to you he was making an effort and wasn’t just being polite for show. Any nervousness you had felt going into this first meeting was slowly fading.

“You’re currently a student?” Kes asked, though his tone wasn’t harsh or accusatory. You hummed as you nodded. “I couldn’t remember if Poe said you were or not.”

“I graduate in May, so I will be a former student soon.”

“And what does the university say about you being…you know, together?” Kes looked between you and Poe.

“It’s technically against the rules,” Poe answered.“I don’t really know what would happen to her, but I know there’s consequences for me. Which is why we don’t go anywhere and the only people on campus who know are her roommates.”

You half expected to get a lecture on making sure you remain careful, but it never came. Food was cleared from plates and the three of you sat with happy stomachs, making no effort to ditch the conversation to clean up.

“How’d you guys get acquainted?” A playful smirk slowly spread across Kes’ face. “Did you see each other across the room and think ‘wow’?”

“Actually, yeah,” Poe said and your jaw dropped a little as you looked at him. He just glanced at you with a small smile. “She took one of my half-semester classes last fall. I immediately thought she was beautiful, got to know her over the two months, ran into her outside of class after it finished and we chatted—“

Poe nudged your foot with his as you stifled a laugh. Chatting was definitely the least scandalous thing that went down on Halloween, but Kes didn’t need those details.

“—and we got to know each other better until I couldn’t not ask her out.”

You gave him a small smile. “You never told me that.”

Poe just shrugged with a small smirk on his face and you grinned at him. It was similar to what you thought when you first stepped into his classroom. You briefly recalled seeing him come in and whispering ‘holy shit’ under your breath, giggling together with your friend about how attractive your professor was on the way to get lunch. You got to know him as well as he got to know all of his students, the picture of Beebs as his computer background making you just melt. Then you harbored a small crush on him for the rest of the semester that you finally did something about thanks to a little alcohol on Halloween night.

A yawn suddenly escaped your lips, making Kes chuckle. “Why don’t you go get some rest?”

“I’m good, I can help with the dishes.”

“It’s ok hon, we’ve got it. You’re tired and you’ve had a long day. Go get some rest.”

You smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Mr. Dameron.”

“Kes, please.” He glanced over at Poe. “She’s been down here since you guys got here, why don’t you get her settled upstairs and then come help me clean up.”

You quietly giggled at Kes telling Poe what to do like he was a teenager. Poe put a hand on your back and led you out of the dining room as you waved a friendly ‘good night’ to Kes. You followed Poe up the stairs into the bedroom that he explained was the one he had as a kid.

“Dad said we can share a room as long as there’s ‘no funny business’.”

“Oh my god,” you giggled as you put a hand to your face.

“I was half expecting Spider-Man sheets and Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition posters on the walls.”

“He took them all down when I moved out,” Poe teased, leaning against the door. “Bathroom’s right next door. And by the way? I told you you’d be fine.”

He chuckled as he ducked out the door when you balled up and threw your sweatshirt at him. When he was out of sight, you let out a breath and mumbled an ‘ok’ under your breath as you grabbed what you needed for the shower and headed into the bathroom. You had made it through dinner, answered the questions Kes had about your relationship without it turning awkward or hearing thinly-veiled insults disguised around advice about being careful.

The hot water of the shower felt heavenly on your sore muscles but felt like needles poking your skin when it made contact with the places you got sunburned. You washed the feeling of stuffy airports and cramped airplanes off of your hair and body, the idea of curling up in bed and sleeping in in the morning very enticing.

You kept your shower quick to not take up all the hot water and quickly dressed into a big t-shirt and sleep shorts before brushing your teeth. Going back to the room, you saw Poe with his legs outstretched in front of him, leaning against the headboard. You dropped your clothes into your suitcase, grabbing a bottle of aloe vera before sitting down in front of him.

“I really hate to be this person, but do you think your dad likes me? Or do I need to try harder, maybe mention something he really likes to find some common ground?”

“No, he really likes you.” His statement ended more like a question and you furrowed your brow at him. “What’s in your hand?”

You waved the bottle in front of him. “Aloe. I got a little burned on my back. Help me out?”

Poe nodded and shifted to sit up more. You moved to sit between his legs and he slowly lifted the back of your shirt.

“A little burnt? Did you even put sunscreen on?”

“Yes! I thought SPF 30 would be enough!”

Poe snickered as he put the aloe vera in his hands and gently rubbed the cooling gel into your skin, a shiver running through you as it immediately started working. He spread it around evenly and massaged it in so it wouldn’t transfer onto your shirt.

“So what’s the but?”

“What but?”

“‘He really likes you’…but?” Poe didn’t say anything and you sigh. “Come on, I can tell by the sound of your voice there’s something else.”

Poe stopped massaging your back, allowing his thumb to run gently down your spine.

“He did say something.”

You twisted the top half of your body as far as you could so you could look at Poe and he allowed your shirt to fall back down. His expression was unreadable, but not sad or worried.

“Not about you. He really does like you, he told me he thinks you’re fantastic. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a problem with the fact that you’re my student as long as we’re careful. Which we are.”

“Then what is it?”

“He just reminded me that I’m in my thirties and you’re in your twenties.”

You nodded slowly in understanding.

“And people in their twenties are typically partying and getting blackout drunk on the weekends and hooking up with tons of people and not thinking about serious relationships,” you said and Poe nodded. “I get it.”

You rested your hand on top of the one Poe had on your knee. “I mean, I like grabbing drinks with my friends and maybe going to a club or something but going out every weekend? That’s not really my thing. And the random hookups? Overrated, in my opinion.”

Poe laced your fingers together. “That’s what I told him.”

“He just wants what’s best for you. They’re valid concerns. My mom will probably have the same concerns when I tell her.” You let go of Poe’s hand to gently run your finger along the underside of his jaw, making him look at you. “Which I’m going to do the next time I see her. I really want her and Tallie to know.”

Poe gave you a half smile as he kissed your finger.

“Your dad is great, by the way,” you said when Poe pulled back to look at you. “And I’m sorry, he might be an even better cook than you.”

Poe’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Fine, I’ll leave you here and go back by myself and he can make you breakfast on Sunday morning.”

You laughed as leaned your head against his, settling into the comfortable silence broken only by the soft ticking of the clock. You moved so your back was pressed against Poe’s chest once again, his arms encircling your waist as you lean back against him.

“You know, I was a random hookup.”

You smirked as gently elbowed his stomach. “Yes you were, and you’ve ruined men for me forever so thanks a lot.”

He poked your stomach in retaliation and you laughed quietly. “But look what we got out of it.”

Your head dropped back onto his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat completely relaxing you.

“Sometimes I wish it was always this easy,” you said quietly. Poe dropped his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath as he squeezed your waist.

“Yeah, me too.”

》》》

“Favorite place you were stationed?”

“Aviano, Italy. It’s this little town in the north surrounded by mountains on one side and the ocean on the other. We were there for a year when Poe was a baby so he probably doesn’t remember much, but I’d love to travel there with him. Maybe stop at a few other places I got to go visit while stationed over there. Have you traveled anywhere in Europe?”

“I almost studied abroad in Spain a few years ago, but the day before I was supposed to leave I ended up getting my appendix taken out, so I didn’t get to go. But I really want to go see the big cities and explore the smaller towns. An old friend of mine did that and he said he found a lot of hidden treasures.”

“Aviano’s got a lot of those, including the best coffee I’ve ever had in all my years here on Earth.”

“Ok well, now I have to go there.”

You had joined Kes in the living room about an hour. Poe had gotten slammed with emails from students with poor excuses for not having homework ready for after break and was dealing with that when you heard noise coming from the TV discussing the results of the previous night’s game. Your comment about Colorado’s lack of quality defense caught his attention and before you knew it, you were watching the highlights with him and making your guesses about who would make it to the playoffs.

“What made you want to join the Air Force?”

“My father was a pilot. He always told me stories of flying and fighting for his country. I admired him for it. So, when I was drafted at eighteen I knew immediately what branch I wanted to be in.” You saw him glance at a picture on the shelf by the television, one that had him, Poe, and a man you assumed was Poe’s grandfather out on a lake. “I know Poe wanted to continue the tradition and I would’ve loved for him to do that too. But I owe him everything for staying behind and helping me out when I was sick. And he found a career he loves, and that makes me just as proud, so it was all worth it.”

Kes had a proud look on his face and it warmed your heart to hear more about their close relationship.

“He admires you so much,” you smiled warmly. “The stories he’s told me about growing up, the experiences you guys had together…he’s proud to be your son.”

“Speaking of, hey son.”

You looked behind you and saw Poe leaning against the wall with his jacket and shoes on.

“How was your nap?” You asked with a smirk and Poe chuckled.

“It was good,” he said. He held up his car keys. “Wanna take a drive?”

Kes patted your knee and gave you a warm smile. “I’ll meet you guys at Barker’s in an hour.”

You grab your jacket and shoes and follow Poe out to his car.

“Where are we going?”

Poe just smiled at you. “You’ll see when we get there.”

You drove for about twenty minutes, the soft music from the radio the only sound needed. You noticed some of the trees were already starting to get leaves back, a hopeful sign of spring. You wished there was someway you could bring a little bit of that back to school where, at least when you left for Cabo, there was still dead grass and dirty snow everywhere you looked.

Poe turned through an open vine-covered gate and you sat up straight when you realized just where you were.

“Poe, wh—“ Your smile dropped slowly and your heart began to hammer in your chest. Multi-colored stones stood up from the ground, varying in size and shape with pops of colorful flowers scattered across them. “Poe, wait.”

The shakiness in your voice made Poe glance at you. When he saw the worried look on your face, he slowed the car down and pulled off to the side. You looked out the windows before looking at Poe, your eyes glossy with tears.

“Are you—are you sure you want to take me here?”

Poe furrowed his brow as he put the car in park. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You open your mouth to speak and no words came out, but the look on your face said it all. Poe tilted his head in concern.

“Is that what this is about?” Your eyes cast downward. “Baby…”

Poe reached over and cupped your cheek, cradling it in his hand as he brought your gaze up to him.

“Are you still hanging onto that?” You nodded. “Why?”

“Because it was the most hurtful thing I could’ve said to you.”

Poe exhaled deeply, his thumb running gently across the spot just underneath your eye. “Baby, it was a stupid fight where we both said stupid things. I’ve forgotten all about it. You should to. Please.”

All you could do was nod. Poe released your face and pulled back onto the road, driving a few minutes deeper into the cemetery before finally stopping and turning back to you. “It’ll just be a few minutes. If you really don’t want to though, we don’t have to.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I want to.”

You got out of the car and Poe immediately grabbed your hand when he came around to your side of the car.

“Wait,” you said, pulling him back when he took a few steps forward. “I don’t—what do I say?”

Poe walked back to you, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I just want you there.”

You nodded and he kissed your temple gently before leading you across the crunchy grass. The sun was shining brightly, mixing wonderfully with the crisp afternoon air. The beautiful day brought out others as well, the hum of their hushed conversations with loved ones floating being carried by the wind.

Shara’s headstone was near the end of a row that ended right at the fencing. The marble reflected the sun’s rays and shone beautifully. Fresh flowers sat propped up against the stone.

“We were here yesterday,” Poe explained when you eyed the flowers that had no business being that bright in the cold air. “We come here every time I visit home.”

You didn’t know Shara, but you felt a sense of heartache as you stepped in front of her headstone.

“Mom, this is Y/N,” Poe said before looking down at you with soft eyes and a matching smile. “She’s beautiful, amazing, funny, kind, selfless…”

You hid your face in Poe’s chest, his sweet words and how he said them with such adoration bringing tears to your eyes. He let go of your hand and put his arm around your shoulder. You rested your cheek against his jacket.

“…technically my student, but we’re going to pretend she’s not. In fact, sometimes I think she should just take over my class and let me relax. I might be a little biased but…god, she’s so smart.”

You face flushed with color and quietly sniffled, unsure if it was from the cold or the overwhelming rush of emotions.

“She’s already won over dad. They were talking about Aviano and hockey earlier today. It doesn’t sound like she’s a Colorado fan, though. Oh, and she cannot skate worth a damn. Seriously, it’s embarrassing.”

You scoffed and nudged him. He just tightened his arm around you.

“I’m pretty sure Beebs likes her more than me, but she spoils him so that might be it,” He continued. “She’s going to graduate at the top of her class in a few months. And…”

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but when his mind flooded with memories and the what-could’ve-beens, he was overcome with emotion and unable to speak. You looked up at him as you gently rubbed his back.

“You and Kes raised an amazing son.” Your voice shook as you spoke, the feeling of speaking to an inanimate object weird to you, but knowing how important it was to Poe. “He’s the kind of man every mother wants their son to be. You would be so proud of him.”

Poe gazed down in pure adoration at you, a small smile crossing his face. He cleared his throat.

“Can I have a minute?”

“Of course.”

You reached up and kissed Poe’s cheek and you let your lips linger for a second before squeezing his arm and walking back to the car. Poe waited until you were far enough away before turning back to his mother’s gravestone.

“If you’d have asked me when I first started teaching that I’d fall for one of my students, I’d have laughed in your face. But she’s not just that to me. She’s…” Poe glanced back at your retreating figure before turning back. “I wish you could’ve met her, mom. You’d really love her. Because I know I do.”

Poe stood in silence for another minute before heading back towards his car. You were patiently leaning against the passenger door, tears coming to your eyes when you saw Poe have a moment with his mother.

You gave him a small smile and he immediately wrapped you in a hug, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Thank you,” Poe mumbled in your hair. “This meant a lot to me.”

You moved to look up at Poe, smiling softly. “It meant a lot to me, too.”

Poe softly pecked your lips and rested his forehead against yours.

“I’ve got one more place I want to take you.”

You nod as you got back into the car. As Poe waited for traffic to clear to turn back onto the road, you leaned over and kissed his cheek a second time, giving him another warm smile as you sat back in your seat. Poe turned onto the road and grabbed your hand for the duration of the drive.

You arrived back in town in about ten minutes time, Poe parking in front of a rundown bar that had seen its fair share of love and weather over many many years. Kes’ car was already in the parking lot.

“This is my Maz’s.” Poe explained as you both got out of the car.

It was a classic small town bar, the kind where the bartenders knew every detail of their regulars’ lives and welcomed everyone by name. Kes was at the counter chatting with the bartender, waving you and Poe over and immediately buying you both a drink. Kes led you to a table where you put your coats and you were about to sit down when Poe eyed something behind him.

“Want to shoot some pool?”

“Against you? No thanks,” Kes smirked. “I don’t know how you got so damn good but I’m not in the mood to get my ass handed to me in front of people I know.”

“Come on, you should be proud your son is beating you!”

“Well, I’m not.” Kes said. “Fine, I’ll play. But I’m teaming up with Y/N. I need all the help I can get.”

Poe looked over at you and you shrugged as you walked over to the wall to grab a pool cue. Kes racked up the balls as you prepped the pool cue with blue chalk. Poe broke the rack and watched as one of the solid colors got close to a pocket. He tapped it in with the cue ball, making solids his objective and stripes yours and Kes’.

You lined up the stick with the cue ball, eyeing it for a moment before sending it towards the red striped ball which smoothly sunk into a corner pocket. Kes patted your back as he cheered and Poe looked at you incredulously. All you could do was smirk.

“Oh yeah, I learned how to play growing up.”

The game was neck and neck and pretty soon Kes wasn’t even playing anymore. He was grabbing drinks for everyone and acting as your personal cheerleader, strategizing with you on what and where you should hit next. And when you sunk the eight ball before Poe had even finished putting away all the solids, Kes cheered and lifted you into a hug.

“I’m only playing against you know if Y/N is here,” he said before going up to the bar to grab another drink. You sat on the edge of the pool table as Poe approached you.

“Who taught you to play?” He asked with a small smile. You gave him a sad smile.

“My dad.” Poe’s smile dropped and you squeezed his arm. “Once school is done and we can be out, you’ll find out I’m kind of good at darts but terrible at quarters.”

“Alright, so we’ll play quarters so I can beat you at something.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, thankful he went along with the subject change, and he kissed it back into your mouth. Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” came over the speakers. You broke away from him, took a long swig of your beer and hopped off the pool table, holding your hand out to Poe.

“Come dance with me.” Poe just laughed and shook his head. “This is one of my favorite songs! Please?”

You stuck your bottom lip out in an over exaggerated pout. Poe rolls his eyes with a humored smile and drank the rest of his beer before setting the bottle next to yours and taking your outstretched hand. You led him onto the dance floor and you were yanked back by Poe stopping. He pulled you into him and, with a hand on your back and the other holding yours, he moved you along to the music.

You danced to the mid-tempo song, Poe spinning you under his arm. He surprised you by dipping you and you laughed loudly, clutching onto his shirt so you wouldn’t fall. Poe pulled you back up, holding you closer to him than he previously was.

Kes smiled at the pair of you from across the bar. Poe had told him you were something special and he saw very clearly why. You were the first girl Poe had brought home to meet Kes in years, but you were the only girl Poe had ever taken to visit Shara, something that he held so closely to his heart. Kes knew then and there that you’d be around for a long time.

Poe knew it too.

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron #poe dameron fluff #back to you series #modern au #modern poe dameron

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lunarimagines · 4 years

Text

CONDITIONALLY YOURS [1]

Summary: After a minor glitch you are left living with someone you never dreamed of living with. While you swear nothing will happen, a lot can change in the span of a month...

Warnings: language

A/N: This is the new series I have inspiration for right now as classes start up again soon. Does not take place in the current universe... literally no social distancing. Putting Eye on the Target on hold. If you liked Watch Me Babygirl you might like this series ;)

----

Starting college was stressful on its own. Beyond moving to a new school in a new state with new people, moving sucked. Moving was the worst part, in fact, you decided as you hauled up your fifth box from your car to your dorm room. It was digging into your arms and your hands as you hauled it up the four flights of stairs to your room, squishing to the side of the stairwell to allow other students moving in to squeeze by you in a hurry to unpack their own things. You decided that after you finished moving you would never use the stairs ever again. You’d had enough stairs to last you for the rest of your life.

“Woo, I think I’m going to die,” you huffed to your best friend as he followed you into your new room carrying a box filled with your clothes. He snorted as he set the box by your desk and looked around your room. Your side was empty save the boxes of your things while your roommates’ side was completely unpacked - no boxes in sight - and organized.

“The good thing is that I think your roommate has already moved in so maybe she can help you finish unpacking and get organized,” Wooyoung commented as he stared at the made bed across from you stark one.

You nodded as you looked around the room, taking particular interest in your roommate’s decor. It was nice, you finally decided. It was not only neat and tidy - all of the posters and picture frames were hung up straight with command strips - but the colors were calming. You figured the two of you would get along just fine.

“Hey I think that was the last box by the way,” Wooyoung motioned to the stack of boxes scattered on (objectively) your half of the room. “Want to help me unpack my boxes from my car into my room?”

“I guess it’s only fair,” you joked as you followed him out of your room, closing the door soundly behind you.

“I kind of hate that we live across campus from one another,” Wooyoung remarked. “Like… it almost makes me feel lonely being so far from you.”

You simply smiled at your best friend. The thing about Wooyoung was that he easily made friends. He was positive and boisterous and seemed to just attract people. He would soon find himself surrounded by plenty of friends in his dorm. You… you were hoping to find friends in classes and school clubs where you knew you would at least have something in common with them. It wasn’t like you were sure you and Wooyoung would drift apart, but you were worried that your friendship may be tested in such a new environment. After having become friends your Junior year of high school the two of you had seemed almost inseparable, but now you weren’t so sure you were.

Pushing all thoughts from your mind, you grabbed the first box from Wooyoung’s car and gritted your teeth as you started your ascent to his third floor dorm room.

Four exhausting hours later, you were laying in your room on your freshly made bed. Nothing other than your sheets and bathroom supplies had been unpacked. You knew you would eventually have to get up to find your pajama box, but that was a problem for future Y/N. Right now you just wanted to close your eyes and rest. Your limbs hurt and muscles you didn’t even know you had were starting to ache. Reaching over to turn off the light above the center of the room, you snuggled into your sheets and dozed.

You didn’t even hear your roommate come back. Upon seeing your sleeping form, your roommate decided to simply leave the lights off and shower in the ensuite shower in darkness and near silence. They figured it wouldn’t be a good first impression to wake you up… They understood just how tiring moving could be.

Here’s the thing about suddenly living in such close proximities with strangers though: you get woken up by nearly any sound they make before you know them and their routines. You weren’t fully out of your dazed state until you heard the shower shut off. Your eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness of the room but you couldn’t imagine it would be easy for your roommate to navigate the mess of boxes coming out of a brightly lit bathroom into sudden darkness.

Sliding off of your bed, you moved to turn on the light by the dorm door to give your roommate some light.

The click of the bathroom door startled you as you turned around after having flicked the lights on.

“I figured it would be easier for you if I turne-”

Holy shit. Holy fuck.

A boy around your age was staring back at you in shock, his grey sweatpants hanging loosely off of his hips, no shirt in sight, and his hand frozen towel-drying his hair. And he was not simply a half-naked boy around your age, but a HOT half-naked boy around your age. Your eyes seemed to move on their own as you scanned him, spending more time than necessary staring at his slightly damp abs.

God, you felt like you were in a stupid drama. This had to be a dream. Or your roommate let her boyfriend into your room while you were asleep to shower in your room because you had a nice shower. Those were the only two options. It wasn’t as if he could have come into the wrong room… the doors locked automatically behind you and only the person with the correct key could get in. It was simple mechanics.

So why was this boy standing there staring back at you with wide eyes? And who was this boy?

“I - uh - you live here - like HERE here, like in this room… with me?” you mumbled intelligently.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled back, equally as intelligently.

You noticed a slight blush rising on his neck the longer the two of you stood there. You moved to the side to let him find a shirt to put on, paying extra attention to the slight curve of his ass in his sweatpants as he bent down to find a shirt in his drawer set. Everything about this boy was attractive, you noted.

He turned back around, no longer shirtless, and cleared his throat suddenly.

“I, uh, I guess we should probably go downstairs to the desk and see if they can assign us to different rooms,” he reasoned. “I’ll either move or help you move when they reassign us. I’m, yeah, I’m really sorry about this.”

His sudden statement wasn’t entirely surprising to you. The dorms didn’t allow co-ed roommates otherwise you and Wooyoung may have lived together. You simply nodded back, your keys already in your hand to troop down to the ground floor. You would just have to endure the stairs one more time because God forbid you get stuck in an elevator with this boy, too.

“I’m Y/N by the way,” you said desperately to erase the awkward silence between the two of you.

“Seonghwa,” the boy replied coolly.

Fitting name, you thought as you pushed open the door to the ground floor. A cool and sexy name for a cool and sexy guy I guess.

Despite move-in having finished for the day, the ground floor was in chaos. Students were complaining of beds not having been lifted, of clogged sinks, of lights not turning on, of awful roommates, of missing items. Every time you turned someone was complaining about something else. The line to the front counter snaked across the room.

“Maybe it’s not just us,” you reasoned as the two of you got in the back of the line. You peered through the crowd but you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the front of the line now.

“If we can’t get up to the front before the station closes do you have somebody you can stay with tonight?” Seonghwa questioned. “I have a few friends I might be able to crash with if you don’t.”

“I don’t have any friends besides Wooyoung, and I don’t think his roommate would be too cool with me crashing there.”

In reality you had no idea if Wooyoung or his roommate would be okay with it or not. You didn’t want to move your stuff, you didn’t want to deal with any paperwork, you didn’t want to do anything. It had been an exhausting day and all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

“We can only take a few high priority cases before we have to close for the night. IF the issue DIRECTLY concerns your safety, please come forward. Otherwise, we apologize for any inconveniences. Thank you.”

A collective groan went up from the crowd. The surge of people to go back to their rooms pushed you and Seonghwa back against a wall. He simply sighed as he watched the organized chaos, his eyes scanning the crowd in annoyance. His jaw was tight and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

“Here,” he held out his hand, “I don’t want to get separated in this crowd. I think we should go back upstairs and figure out what we’re going to do next.”

You hummed in agreement as you grabbed his hand. It was warm and surprisingly soft, and you squeezed it tightly as Seonghwa wove his way up to the stairs and to your fourth floor room. The stairwell was hell and you rammed your hip into the railing multiple times as Seonghwa led you through the crowd. The girls seemed to move out of his way without even thinking about it, pausing and stepping back enough when admiring him to let you through the gaps. You had to admit, Seonghwa did look very handsome even with his disheveled, damp hair and casual clothes. Still, there were so many people on the stairs it was impossible you wouldn’t get bumped at all.

Arriving at your floor, you felt the rush of cool air as you stepped into the hallway. Seonghwa didn’t let go of your hand as he led you to your shared room despite the hallway being entirely empty. You chuckled at the action and squeezed his hand tightly before releasing it. You didn’t need protection anymore and your hand was starting to get clammy. The last thing you needed was to sweat on your hot roommate.

Seonghwa seemed shocked. His eyes went wide as he stopped and stared down at his hand before shoving it in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Sorry. I didn’t even realize,” he commented as he unlocked your door and went inside. He settled on his bed and stared blankly across the room. You followed suit to sit cross legged on your bed, staring at him expectantly.

“I guess I’ll pack a bag and go stay with my friend-”

“Just stay,” you interrupted. As the two of you had stood in line together you’d been thinking… “It’s not fair to either of us. Why should either of us move? Besides, this room is prime with a bathroom in it and it’s on the corner. Based on the amount of people downstairs and during move-in, I seriously doubt there’s any open rooms, especially in this dorm. This is the most popular dorm on campus. You’re going to give it up because someone else made a mistake?”

Seonghwa looked skeptical but he didn’t interrupt. He only nodded pensively as he stared at you, his eyes narrowed and sucking on his cheek. You had some good points. Still…

“Won’t it be uncomfortable?”

“Why? Because we’re the opposite gender means we have to have a romantic or sexual relationship? Just don’t walk around naked and we’ll be fine,” you dismissed. “It won’t be weird if we don’t make it weird.”

Seonghwa still didn’t seem convinced.

“Look. Let’s give it a trial period, say a month. If it’s weird, we’ll tell someone and get reassigned. Win-win.”

It was silent in your room as Seonghwa pondered your offer. In some ways, it made a lot of sense. Why give up your spot, not get refunded on your rent, and have to go the process of moving again in the same week just because of a computer glitch? No, better to stay put. Even if Seonghwa moved out you would still feel obligated to help him… which would mean you were also moving in a way. Not worth it. Also, while you found him attractive it stopped there. You didn’t know him. He was interesting physically only. It wasn’t like you wanted to become intimate with him. Besides, it didn’t seem like he liked you too much anyways.

“Fine.”

You blinked in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah fine,” he sighed, “on one condition. We don’t tell anyone. Not even our friends. I don’t want to make it weird for them either. I don’t want to answer their questions. I just… don’t. Deal?”

You smirked at him, your eyes lighting up. Winking quickly, you got up to grab your shower things and a box marked “pajamas and towels.” Walking toward the shower, you dropped your stuff inside before turning and sticking your head out into the room.

“Deal.”

With the resounding clack of the bathroom door shutting and soft click of the lock it was decided: you and Seonghwa were officially roommates. At least for the month.

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #seonghwa reactions #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop fic #seonghwa fic #ateez fic #wooyoung #seonghwa #ateez #kpop #myimagines #conditionally yours post

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cami-chats · 3 years

Text

College Boyfriend

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (TV)

Pairing: Five Hargreeves/Diego Hargreeves

Summary: Five was a condescending know-it-all, made all the worse to his project partners by the fact that he did know all of the material already. The university wifi crashing ends with them at Five's apartment, and they leave with more questions about his personal life than before.

Read below or on AO3

Five liked his life. It was strange to think after so many years of not being content let alone happy, but he was. All of his siblings were a phone call away. Allison was on the other side of the country, but she was still reachable. The Academy had gotten a makeover, so Vanya and Klaus had moved back in with Luther.

And then of course there was Diego, but Five saw Diego every single day in the apartment they shared. Convincing Diego to move out of his back room at the gym hadn't been as easy as Five had imagined, but in the end, he'd been triumphant. Diego still worked at the gym in the evenings, but now he stayed at their apartment in the day or visited the Academy instead of wasting away in that dank hole-- Five's words, not Diego's.

Five spent his days at college, attending classes and doing his homework, and he spent his nights kissing Diego. It was a nice little arrangement, if he did say so. He could've stood to look a little older, though. Diego looked the thirty-five years old that he was, but Five looked to be, at most, twenty-five. He'd like to be forty, maybe forty-five. Forty-five was a nice age. Comfortable in your own skin, but not so old that you were falling apart. He couldn't deny that there was still a bit of an itch under his skin from being so young, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as being a teenager had been.

Looking like he was twenty let him do what he wanted, without any of the aches and pains that age brought. Still. He could've done without his professors talking down, like they knew more than him. Like Doctor Davis, who taught his Shakespeare class. She said that she'd been studying Shakespeare for ten years, and Five wanted to tell her that that wasn't shit because he'd spent a full fifteen years arguing with Delores about Lady Macbeth's motivation-- and they'd disagreed to the very end. But he couldn't say that, which meant he and Doctor Davis spent a lot of time glaring at each other when they talked. He was pretty sure he was the sole reason she'd decided to give them a fucking group project, but she wouldn't admit as much. Diego thought it was funny the way he thought everything was funny when it didn't concern him. What an ass.

Five was a pretty weird guy. He was condescending-- which wasn't that weird-- but he actually already knew all the material. There was no reason for him to be in the class other than the degree requirement. It was really easy to be condescending when you were right, they guessed. 'They' being Five's unfortunate partners for the group project that they had in Shakespeare. Five had protested loudly at a group project, but Doctor Davis had only shrugged and said it was part of the curriculum.

They met up at the campus library two times before, and this was the third time so they could finish. Things were going pretty well-- or at least, they started going well once they figured out that Five's insults weren't personal and he didn't really care. It was more like he had no brain to mouth filter, so that every little thought came out where most people would've stopped before saying it-- even with that being said, he was still annoying. They didn't like him, and he didn't like them. For the most part, they ignored that to get the work done.

They were so close to finishing. Another two hours, and they'd be set.

That was when the internet went out. For all of them. They were in the middle of restarting their laptops and reconnecting to the wifi when an announcement went over the PA. "Attention to all occupants. The campus internet is out, and we've been told that it won't be fixed until tomorrow morning at the earliest. We apologize for the inconvenience."

"Shit," Allen breathed. "Does anyone live off campus? I'm in the dorms."

"Me too," Aisha said with a worried frown.

"I live in the sorority house, but it's the same wifi as the campus," Judy said.

None of them really wanted to ask Five, but after clenching his jaw for a moment, he answered on his own. "I guess we can go to my apartment."

"Okay, cool," Allen said, trying not to sound as thrown as he was, and they all started packing up now that they knew what the plan was. "Thanks."

"How long does it take to get to your place on the bus?" Judy asked.

Then, looking even more uncomfortable than before, Five said, "I'll just drive us."

"You have a car?" Judy said, surprised. Five didn't bother to answer, but after seeing the car, it became clear that Five was loaded. What other college kid had a Rolls Royce? She half expected for him to pull up to a swanky condo, but he went to an ordinary looking apartment building and parked.

Every inch of his posture screamed that he didn't want to be inviting them to where he lived, but they were sort of out of options for other places to go. There were coffee shops and shit, but with the campus wifi out, every student that lived in the dorms would be filling those places and there wouldn’t be room for all of them.

Five unlocked the door, and they all filed in, not knowing what to expect from his place. Walls of books would've fit right in with his know-it-all aura, but an empty living room with no decoration also wouldn't have been out of place. The way his living room actually looked was almost too normal. There was a tv set up on a stand that probably hadn't been made for it. There was a small bookshelf stuffed more books than it could easily hold. One couch and a banged up coffee table in front of it with various items on it. There was a poster for an Allison Hargreeves movie on the wall, and what looked like an oil painting.

The thing that really got to them was that Five didn't live alone. It was obvious in the way the living room was built to accommodate two people-- the two hooks for coats and the indent of where two pairs of shoes usually sat at the door, not to mention the set of dishes by the sink that couldn't only be accounted for with only one person. His roommate was either as weird as him, or a normal person trying to ignore his eccentricities, and his project partners hoped that they'd never have the chance to figure it out.

Five grabbed an index card from the tv stand and put it on the coffee table while he worked on clearing the rest of it off. Aisha glanced at the card and realized it was the wifi network information. She pulled out her laptop and tapped impatiently as she waited for it to boot up. She got her internet set up, then passed the index card to Allen since he was next to her. She took a glance around but didn't see an outlet. Her laptop's battery was shit; she wouldn't be able to make it through the evening without plugging it in.

"Hey Five?" Aisha said, the end of her charger in one hand.

He glanced over at her, then nodded to the right of her. "It's at the edge of the couch."

"Thanks."

None of them made themselves comfortable, knowing that this wasn't a social visit. It was an awkward hour as they hurriedly worked, but they didn't get a chance to finish before they were interrupted. And when the interruption came, it came in a big way. Like a fucking superstar walking into the room, because that's exactly what happened. It was Allison Hargreeves! Allison fucking Hargreeves walked into the place holding a massive picture frame.

There was no way Allison Hargreeves was the one who lived here. Simply no way. She had a kid and shit, didn't she? And she wouldn't settle for living in a place like this-- it wasn't a dump or anything, but it wasn't where a famous movie star would live. What the hell was she doing here? Come to think of it, Five's last name was Hargreeves, wasn't it? Maybe they were related somehow. It would certainly explain the expensive car and the better-than-you attitude. Hell, if Aisha had Allison Hargreeves for a sister, she'd think that she was better than everyone else, too.

Another woman walked up behind her, looking like a housewife straight out of a fifties advertisement, from the smile on her face to her perfectly coiffed hair to the short heels on her feet that matched her skirt.

"Oh hey Five," Allison fucking Hargreeves said, like she saw him everyday.

He glanced over at her. "Did you seriously fly over from LA to go shopping with Grace?" Then his eyes flickered over to the other woman. "Hi Grace."

"Hello Five, darling," she said. It was kind of unimaginable that Five let anyone call him darling, but he didn't seem bothered by it.

"Actually," Allison Hargreeves said, "I came over to hang out with Diego, and he wanted to go shopping with Mom. I didn't have anything better to do, so I tagged along. He said you were busy tonight." She glanced over at them and smiled, then gave a little wave with her free hand.

They all waved back numbly. "We're working on a group project together," Judy managed to say.

"Are you going to introduce us?" Grace-- Mom??-- asked.

"No," Five said bluntly. "We're not friends."

"You really should make some friends," Grace said, her smile still in place. "They're important for your social development." All he had to do was look at her, and she said, "Sorry dear. It's instinct."

"I can be out of your hair soon, if you want," Allison Hargreeves said.

"Whose hair are we getting out of?" a man asked, kicking the door closed. You ever look at a guy and think 'I don't want to fuck with him'? Yeah, that was this guy. The paper bags he was holding from shopping weren't intimidating, but his clothes barely hid a strong physique, and the scar on his head only added to the badass factor he had going on. Allen was pretty sure the only people that owned boots like that were familiar with breaking people's bones, and he shrank in on himself slightly without thinking about it. Then he saw Five and said, "Hey babe." He said it to Five. Was... was he Five's boyfriend?! Was Five living here with his boyfriend?? "Something wrong with the library?"

"The internet decided to die," he said wryly. "We're almost done."

"Cool." Five's boyfriend (probably boyfriend??) walked towards the bedroom, and Allison Hargreeves and that Grace woman followed him. The door stayed open, but it was far enough away that when they spoke, the group could only hear the murmurs of their voices and not the words that were being said.

They were distracted for a little while by the fact that they'd just met Allison Hargreeves, the most famous and talented actress in Hollywood, but they managed to get the rest of the work done without wasting too much time.

If it were anyone other than Five, they probably would've been able to get an official introduction to her-- maybe a picture or two-- but they finished the project, gave it a quick read-through to make sure there was nothing obvious missing, and then they were being ushered out. Aisha got out her phone and ordered an Uber as they packed up.

Five turned his head and called, "We're done!" down the hallway.

As they left, Judy saw Five kiss the man that had walked in with Allison Hargreeves and Grace. Definitely his boyfriend, then, though personally, she thought that he was too old for Five. She knew better than to say that aloud, so she just said goodbye and that she'd see him in class.

They were all glad that they only had the one class with Five.

#fiego #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #fanfic #tua #my writing

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canyourscienceexplainthis · 3 years

Text

And Your Jokes Are Always Bad

“Okay, guys, what’s the plan for tonight?” Sokka asks, looking through his rearview mirror at Aang and Katara’s shadowed faces in the back, and then over at Suki sitting in the passenger seat. “I thought we were heading over to chill at your place?” Aang questions from the backseat, arm wrapped around Katara and voice abnormally loud so he can be heard over the speakers blaring Rei Ami (it was Suki’s night with the aux).

“We aren’t going back to campus. If I have to go to one more party where everyone is talking about ‘Death of the Author’ or their latest shroomed out epiphany, I’m gonna jump off the roof of the library, I swear to God,” Katara says, rolling her eyes at the thought.

“Yeah, we can go to mine,” Sokka agrees, “but if you guys are expecting drinks or food at all tonight, we’re gonna have to stop somewhere cause my place is currently like an apocalypse shelter that’s running out of supplies.”

“Beer store and sevie it is!” Suki chimes.

With their drinks and snacks of choice acquired, the gang starts heading back to Sokka’s house, which they have affectionately named the shitshack. Listen, Sokka will be the first to admit that his house is a little...run down. “I think should-be-condemned is a more apt description, Sokka,” Katara had countered the first time she visited.

Sure, the foundation is caving in to the point that their bedroom doors couldn’t fully close because of the house’s slant. Yeah, weeds grow through the baseboards in the summer. And yes, he’s pretty sure there’s decomposing rat bodies under the sink cupboards. But he’s a struggling student living in one of the most expensive places in the country, and this place was as cheap as it gets (which is still way too expensive). He had decided long ago that he would rather live in an actual risk-to-human-safety with people that he can stand to be around than be paired up with strangers and live on campus.

“Fuck a princess I’m a king, bow down and kis—”

Just as they’re in the middle of the chorus, Suki’s phone starts ringing, interrupting their psyched-up, loud sing-along. Suki picks up the call but doesn’t unplug the aux, a raspy voice coming through the car’s speakers.

“Sukiii,” the mystery voice greets.

“Hey Zuko! What’s up?”

“Ugh, I’m bored! Come hang out with me,” the voice pleads.

“I’d love to, but I’m kinda on the way to my friend’s house right now…” Suki says, looking over at Sokka.

“Oh,” disappointment evident in his tone, “yeah, no worries, maybe next weekend.”

Suki glances over at Sokka again before saying, “wait, why don’t you come with?

Sokka looks over at her, shrugging his shoulders, silently saying, “the more the merrier, I guess.”

“You sure? Your friend won’t mind?”

“Nah, he’s cool with it. Where are you? We’ll come to pick you up.” At this, though, Sokka shoots Suki a glare. He has no problem with her inviting a friend over, but come on dude, gas is expensive! Suki rolls her eyes at him while waving her hand dismissively.

“I’m up at the school, actually,” he says, and Sokka nearly groans because that’s the complete opposite direction of his house.

“Really?” Suki’s eyebrow quirks. “Okay, we’ll be there in like, fifteen or twenty. I’ll text you when we’re close.”

“Okay, sounds good. Thanks Suki!” The music resumes when she hangs up. Sokka levels what he hopes is a withering stare at her.

“You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I was going to start charging you guys for gas,” Sokka huffs.

Suki purses her lips, “alright, then I guess I’m going to stop helping you pass literally every single one of your humanities classes.”

Sokka pauses, considering whether or not it’s worth risking his GPA to continue complaining. “Fine, but anyone who isn’t helping me figure out what the fuck Derrida is talking about has to pay up!”

About 10 minutes later (because apparently, Sokka drives like he has a death wish), they’re parked outside Sokka’s first-year dorm. It’s giving him flashbacks to warm summer nights spent chilling in the woods with his friends and scattering into the trees when campus security eventually came to break up their drunken antics.

Thankfully, a light knocking on the passenger side window breaks Sokka’s train of thought before he can start dwelling on any of his more painfully embarrassing memories. It’s too dark out for him to see who knocked on the window, but Suki reaches over his lap to unlock the doors, so he assumes it must have been her friend.

What’s his name again? It starts with a Z. Zuzu? No, Zooko, yeah Zuko, Zuko, he chants to himself.

The door opens, and a shadowy figure slides into the back seat. Sokka pulls out of the parking lot and starts heading back into town. Aang, unbelievably (almost exhaustingly) friendly as always, is the first to introduce himself.

“Hey! I’m Aang. Your name’s Zuko, right?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, I’m Katara, and that’s my brother Sokka,” she adds, leaning past Aang’s head and pointing at the back of Sokka’s seat.

“Hey dude,” Sokka says, keeping his eyes on the road but raising his hand to wave at the stranger in the back seat.

“Hey speed racer,” Katara scolds, “both hands on the wheel!”

“Katara, if you can’t handle me at my fastest, you don’t deserve me at my furiousest.” Even though he can barely make out any of their faces in the dim light of his car, Sokka can tell they were all rolling their eyes at his attempt at humour. Except for Zuko, who snorts out a soft laugh. Sokka has a feeling he’s going to like this guy.

“At least Zuko thinks I’m funny.”

“That’s cause he doesn’t know you yet,” Suki scoffs. “He’ll learn to tune you out like the rest of us soon enough.”

The rest of the ride passes with easy conversation and songs that, according to Suki, “just make you feel like a bad bitch.” As soon as he pulls into his driveway, Sokka jumps out of the car, excited to finally be home and able to blow off some steam with his friends. He bounds through the door, bellowing, “Jet! Ruru! I come bearing booze and food!” Sokka drops the bag of snacks on the kitchen table on his way over to the fridge. Opening the door, he thinks it would be pretty apparent that they’re university students by simply looking at its contents; ketchup, leftover takeout that’s been there for who knows how long, and beer. Haru springs into the kitchen and grabs at the snacks, pulling out a bag of all dressed ruffles. “Aww, you got my favourite!”

“Only the best for the best roomie,” Sokka smiles back at him.

“Hey! What about me?”Jet asks, (like the fuck boy he is, Sokka thinks) meandering into the kitchen behind Haru.

“Maybe if you learn how to unload the dishwasher or take out the garbage once in a while, you’ll get surprised with your favourite snacks too.”

Jet frowns up at Sokka, “dick.”

“Yeah fuck you too,” Sokka says, tossing him a beer from across the kitchen.

The sound of Suki’s music emanating from the living room reminds him that “oh yeah, by the way, Katara, Suki, Aang, and one of Suki’s friends are hanging out here tonight.”

“Hell yeah!” Haru basically skips into the living room with Jet following much less excitedly in his wake. Sokka grabs some mixing bowls and starts emptying the bags of chips and popcorn. The last thing he needs is someone puking on his carpet because they started drinking on an empty stomach. From behind him, he hears a faint, “hey, uh, Sokka?”

“Yeah, what’s—” he starts, looking up.

Holy shit.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen is who he can only assume to be Zuko. He has long black hair tied up in a half top-knot and gorgeous golden eyes. He’s wearing a black bomber jacket and crimson button-up that contrast with his molten eyes and pale skin in an unfairly beautiful way. He also has on a pair of black skinny jeans that are really working for him and working for Sokka, too, if he’s honest. It’s probably a good thing, Sokka thinks, that he couldn’t see him in the car because he probably would have completely forgotten how to drive and ended up in a ditch.

Good God, Sokka chastises himself. Get your shit together and stop staring at this absolutely stunning man like a fucking creep. Sokka clears his throat and manages to stutter, “y-yeah, what’s up?”

If Zuko noticed his gawking, he’s kind enough not to mention it. “Just wondering if I could put these in your fridge,” he asks, raising a six-pack of Strongbow.

“Yeah, for sure!” Sokka manages, voice still a little uneven.

Zuko walks over to the fridge, placing his ciders beside Sokka’s beers, then takes one and cracks it. He turns to face Sokka again, and they both stare at each other for a moment, the only noise being the hum of the bass in the background. Neither one seems to know what to do next. Thankfully for Sokka’s current error 404 brain, Zuko pipes up first.

“You’ve got a nice place. I really like it.” If he were judging by the tone of Zuko’s voice, Sokka would almost think he’s being sincere. However, the evidence proving that this was, in fact, a shithole of a house was literally everywhere.

“Hey, it's okay dude, we all know this house is awful. No need to sugarcoat it,” Sokka chuckles.

“No, really, I mean it. Obviously, it’s got its...flaws,” well that’s putting it mildly, Sokka thinks, “but I like what you guys have done with it. Like,” Zuko points to a Pavement poster hanging on the wall in front of Sokka, “how you’ve decorated it.”

“Are you a Pavement fan,” Sokka asks, eagerness clear in his voice at the prospect of talking to someone about his favourite band.

The edges of Zuko’s lips curl into an almost indistinguishable teasing smile, and his eyes glance down to his drink. “I guess you could say that, if you think going to their reunion show in 2010 counts as being a fan,” Zuko notes nonchalantly. Sokka doesn’t know if he’s ever been more jealous of someone in his life.

“Oh my God! You’re kidding?! I would have killed to have seen that show! Was it incredible?” He asks, humming with excitement.

“If I told you it sucked, would it make you feel better about missing it?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“Then no, it was one of the worst live performances I’ve ever seen. They completely fucked up Embassy Row.”

Sokka hums, grabbing his chin like he’s contemplating whether or not he’s still upset that he missed the show of a lifetime. “Yeah, I’m still jealous. Guess I’ll just have to catch their thirty-year reunion tour.”

Zuko genuinely smiles then, and any composure Sokka had regained in the last minute goes down the drain. “Yeah, I guess so,” he murmurs.

Suddenly Sokka’s attention is jerked away from Zuko’s breathtaking smile by a loud crash emanating from the living room. Spinning his head in the direction of his exceptionally disastrous friends who apparently cannot be left alone for ten minutes, he yells, “Hey! What the fuck are you guys doing!?”

Katara sprints into the kitchen wearing a slightly guilty expression, clearly searching for something. “Dish towels?”

“What did you guys do now,” Sokka sighs, giving her a handful from under the sink.

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing them, “uh, well, Jet bet Suki a round at the brewpub that he could beat her at beer pong, and they kinda both launched themselves at the table trying to get balls back…”

Sokka crosses an arm over his chest and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fucking menaces. I thought we all agreed that we weren’t going to let them do shit like this anymore! They’re both way too competitive, and our house seriously can’t stand any more abuse! For real, I’m surprised they didn’t fall right through a hole in the floor!”

“Do you really think there’s anything anyone could do to dissuade them once they’ve decided they’re gonna do something? No. So all we can do is mitigate the damages,” Katara emphasizes her words by holding the towels up to Sokka’s face.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Sokka concedes, “just tell Jet I said he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That,” Katara mumbles, walking back towards the rest of the group, “I can do.”

Once again, it’s just Sokka and Zuko standing in the kitchen. However, Zuko now looks incredibly amused.

“What,” Sokka levels at him with his patented wiseass smile, “is my living space getting even more trashed funny to you?”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, it’s just...I’m sure I don’t know Suki as well as you guys probably do, and I just met Jet, but he must be a real dumbass to challenge Suki to anything.”

Yeah, Sokka was right earlier; he’s really going to like this guy.

After many rounds of beer pong and even more spilled drinks later, everyone seems to be approaching the more relaxed stage of their typical hangout. Aang and Katara are sitting on floor cushions, leaning into one another, and Sokka can only assume, whispering sickeningly loving things. Likewise, Jet and Haru are having their own coupley moment on the futon in the other side of the living room. He still finds it hard to believe that they’re together, but opposites attract, right? He, Suki, and Zuko are lounging on the couch (which is probably the nicest thing in their house because it’s a hand me down from his dad and Bato, unlike all of their other thrift shop furniture).

Sokka and Zuko are currently monopolizing the conversation, discussing one of their favourite shows that Suki had noted she’d never seen.

“I mean obviously it’s fucked, but it blends misanthropy and humour perfectly into a nice nihilistic package,” Zuko says, his eyes locked with Sokka’s.

“Firstly, agreed. Secondly, how in the fuck are you using words like misanthropy and nihilistic when you’re five drinks down?”

Zuko’s eyes flick with mischief. “I guess I’m just too much of a genius for you to keep up.”

Sokka isn’t sure what to say to that. He’s starting to think Zuko might actually be a genius. That, or he just has excellent taste in music and TV, which, to Sokka, is basically equivalent to having Mensa level IQ. Also, Zuko is probably the hottest person he’s ever seen. All of this put together has him questioning where his brain cells have gone, or if he even had any to begin with.

Suki, taking advantage of the brief lull in their discussion, decides this is her moment to stir shit up. Sitting cross-legged on the corner of the couch and looking down at her nails, she suddenly breaks their conversation, saying, “hey Sokka, did you know Zuko and I were each other’s New Years’ kiss last year?”

In hindsight, Sokka wonders if Suki knew what she was doing. Maybe she just wanted to take Zuko down a peg for his arrogant comment, or she was tired of being left out of the conversation. Probably a combination, he thinks.

His brow quirks up as his gaze flashes back to Zuko, who is staring at Suki with an expression edging on murderous. “Oh yeah?’

“Suki…” the warning tone of Zuko’s voice doesn’t seem to faze her in the slightest.

“Yup,” Suki confirms, unperturbed and grinning wickedly. “Zuko was the only person I knew at the party and I thought, fuck it! So we decided we’d be each others’ kiss.” She looks up from her apparently fascinating cuticles and gazes directly at Sokka, “and he apologized to me after cause he didn’t think he was a very good kisser.”

“OH MY GOD, SUKI!” Zuko sputters, choking on his cider and blush colouring his cheeks.

“What? You did!” She argues, her grin morphing into something truly evil.

“That’s not fair! We were both drunk and, and...I don’t know! But I officially hate you and I’m never covering a shift for you again!”

Zuko looks absolutely mortified. Sokka holds back his laughter at the objectively ludicrous visual if only to save Zuko from even more embarrassment.

Sokka feels bad for him. Really, he does. Suki just blasted him in front of someone he met a couple hours ago. However, Sokka recognizes that she also set him up to bat, so he doesn’t really feel that bad.

“Well, I’ve been told I’m an excellent kisser,” Sokka says, putting on a voice that he hopes resembles something sultry. “I can show you how it’s done. If you want.”

He simultaneously feels very powerful and very vulnerable. Sokka knows that he excels in the kissing arena, but, and he can’t quite put his finger on why, but if Zuko turned him down, he would be really disappointed. Maybe it’s just because Zuko is so pretty, like Sokka wants to draw him like one of his French girls pretty, or maybe it’s because he hasn’t had any action in a while. Either way, he hopes Zuko is either, 1) into the idea, or, 2) lets him down easy.

They stare at each other for a beat, gold eyes meeting blue. Zuko looks down at his hands, curled in his lap, and his blush travels from his cheeks to his just barely visible chest. Sokka wonders if he’s ever seen anything so fucking endearing. Zuko nods so slightly that if Sokka had blinked, he would have missed it.

“Is that a yes?”

“Y-yes, um, yeah, you can do that…” Zuko stammers, looking up at Sokka with both nervous and pleading eyes, “if you want.”

“Yeah, I want.”

Consent confirmed. Sokka wonders if he should hold off because they’ve been drinking, but then he remembers that Zuko just used the word “misanthropy” not five minutes ago in casual conversation. At this moment, he doesn’t know if he could even look at Zuko without spontaneously combusting, so if anything, Zuko would be taking advantage of him, and Sokka is very okay with that. Sokka gently grasps Zuko’s hip with one hand and his waist with the other. He pulls him nearer, noticing how Zuko leans into his grip and silently exhales as the distance between them closes. Their eyes meet again for a fleeting moment. Sokka realizes that Zuko’s pupils are blown so wide that his irises are nothing more than a thin golden ring circling black.

Ever since seeing him in the kitchen, Sokka hasn’t let himself look at Zuko like he wanted to. ‘I’m sure he’s uncomfortable enough in a room full of strangers without you eye-fucking him every five minutes’, he said to himself. But now he can really admire him. Sokka is drinking him in, looking at him like something to be cherished, adored, kissed all over. Fuck. He is gorgeous.

Like Sokka had said, he knew he was a great kisser, but something about Zuko made him want to make this particular make-out session even better than great. Maybe it was because he was supposed to be showing Zuko how it’s done (ugh, nice line Sokka), or maybe it was because Zuko was without a doubt the hottest person Sokka had ever seen in real life. Either way, he knew he had to make the most of this.

Slowly he closes the last couple of inches between Zuko’s mouth and his. He feels Zuko’s shaky exhale on his lips, and damn if that isn’t hot. What feels like ages later, their lips press together. Sokka notes that Zuko’s lips are so deliciously soft, but also hesitant. The kiss is so tender and timid, and delightfully honey-sweet. He leans in farther, moving his hand from Zuko’s hip up his side to cup the back of his neck. Zuko’s mouth opens up in an almost silent sigh, and Sokka takes the opportunity to lick his bottom lip lightly before slotting his tongue alongside Zuko’s.

Sokka can’t remember the last time he’d shared such a delicate kiss.

He dated Yue in first-year, and they had shared some beautiful moments. Being each others’ first relationship, they traversed the adoring, intimate, and sometimes incredibly awkward territory that came with one’s first time. But she had gone to study abroad in Bhutan for a year, saying it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Before she left, they mutually decided long distance wouldn’t suit either of them and it would be best to break up.

And delicate wouldn’t be a word he’d use to describe his and Suki’s relationship. Obviously, they loved and respected one another. Still, it was very much just a good friends that hang out every day and sometimes hook up with each other and sometimes hook up with other people kind of deal. Admittedly, Sokka’s brain kind of imploded when he saw Suki sitting on Yue’s lap at a party about a month after she got back to campus. And it doubly imploded when they told him they were dating. He couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised, but he was happy two of his favourite people found someone that makes them happy. What? He loves love, okay?

But this.

This was...different.

Just as Sokka was about to move his attention from Zuko’s mouth to his cheek, neck, chest, anywhere and everywhere else, he was pulled out of the moment for the second time that night by Katara’s shriek of, “Jesus Christ Sokka! I don’t want to see that shit! Get a room!”

For a moment, he truly forgot that there was anyone else in the room. Snapping back to reality felt like waking up from a half-asleep half-awake dream. In the back of his mind he knew where he was and what was going on around him, but it was a hazy awareness, and one that he’d rather not focus on. Feeling feather-light and slightly out of it, Sokka gathered himself the best he could.

“Katara you do realize this is my house, right? Every room is my room!”

#Ok imma leave this one up tonight #please be nice #sorry i deleted it earlier #i got self conscious #atla #sokka #zulo #aang #katara #suki #yue #alt universe #jet #haru

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emilycollins00 · 4 years

Text

A3 actors! Art in bloom

Type: One shot

Pairing: Miyoshi Kazunari x Reader

Theme: Passion / Art / Clash

Contrary to what many people and even classmates of yours thought, being an art student was not something you should chose to do lightly.

Sure, it seemed enjoyable, cute even. But no one ever talked about how many hours you would spend with a single portrait, drafting about abstract concepts or trying to discern at two in the morning whether a sculpture should turn more sideways or look at the ground to create a deeper perspective.

Art was wild.

But you loved it and, why not admit it, you took it pretty seriously. Maybe a tiny bit more than most people.

That’s why you had always liked how Kazunari Miyoshi, although being the loud person he was, frequently went on and on with you discussing ideas when there was some debate in class. That brain of his was something else. His works and usual approach when mixing modern and traditional Japanese culture fascinated you. It really did.

But that had been changing lately, and it angered you.

Up until this year you hadn't really cared about it. Everyone had their right to live however they wanted after all.

However, without being able to tell when it began, you started casually observing him. You watched him talk to your other classmates as soon as the lecture, frowned as he concentrated on the draft they had one hour and a half to finish or taking selfies and live videos of the works you all were demanded to do. You even discovered yourself staring and how the sun caressed his profile first hour in the morning.

He had a nice profile.

By that point, something inside you was getting frustrated. He participated in class and attended to the lectures, but at the same time…? you felt he was starting prioritising social media over art, or looking for people for one of his popular mixers, like so many of your other classmates, who had most likely entered this major without much thought, did.

You would understand if he would have a part-time job, but the thought of him being able to do so much more and deciding to stop midway left you speechless.

You wished for him to take more things seriously.��

“Miyoshi, were you able to clean all the supplies from last class?" you called him out between the break. Everyone in class traded places to carry the main boxes with brushes, paints and whatever main source they had to work with each week "Our teacher told me to take some clay from there. I'm planning to use them for my final project, but I can't seem to find the key in the secretary office”

The university student lifted his head from his mobile and tipped on his chin, trying to remember "Supplies from...? Oh man, THAT is why I had them in my working space!” He palped his jeans looking for it “My bad, I was totes in a hurry and just closed as soon as we were done!”

You contained an exasperated groan “Why would you get the key unless it was to clean the practice room?”

Kazunari laughed nervously under your intimidating glare “True, true! It's just that I was talking with some friends over the phone and they were in a hurry so…” he showed you the key taking it out of his pocket, maybe to show that at least he hadn’t lost it “Do you need them now? I could go clean for you”

The vein you had tried so hard to maintain calm popped altogether. Not wanting to keep talking, you rapidly grabbed the key from his hand and headed to take the supplies. God grief how you hated that carefree attitude.

……………………..…….

“No prob, dude! Next time just hit me up with a DM and I’ll come running to your uni here! In exchange, I’ll need your help to finish the flyers so…”

Recognizing the flashy voice, you slowly looked behind, witnessing the blond with another person. Was he meeting with people to play around here too?

You couldn’t believe it. You all had your final projects deadlines almost spitting in your faces! That’s why you had to come to this other university to ask for permission to use a kiln for your final, as you didn’t have lectures prepared today and your university didn’t have any. Didn’t look like it was Kazunari’s case.

“Uh? No way, Y/N-pyon!” he waved at you with both hands, confirming it was you indeed, as he got closer “Looking fleek today too! What are you doing here in Yosei?” the person walking next to him whispered something “They’re a friend from my major Tsuzuroon, I told you about them, dude!”

You mentally scoffed. Without returning his greet and turning on your heels, you headed for the teacher’s office.

“You said friend but…” Tsuzuru squinted his eyes, watching you leave “…It doesn't look like they like you very much”

“No worries! Nowadays they are always like that. But their works are so lit! Y/N-pyon is the ultimate remix of you, Ten-ten and Yukki!”

“That’s… not a good thing, Miyoshi-san”

…………………………………………

“Y/N-pyon, about-”

“Miyoshi, sorry. I am on my way to Yosei University to finish my work and unlike your usual approach of work to play, I actually don’t have time to waste”

“Uh? My works are…”

“Are what? I’ve been seeing you doing half-assed things all over the semester. This last week you didn’t even come at the afternoon lectures” you were pretty sure this was just you venting at this point “You’re amazing Miyoshi, I honestly think that, so why? If… If you only put more of yourself into it, your art would be even more unbelievable!”

He went quiet, a rare sight.

“Art it’s not something you just do for laughs; I thought you were one of the few people here that felt the same and-” the phone in your bag started ringing. Head teacher. Inhaling deeply, you answered it “Yes?”

“Y/N-san? I am so sorry. Could you come to Josey university?”

Losing the eye contact you had been maintaining with the blond boy, your heart sank as you heard the words ‘kiln’ and ‘malfunction’. “…Please tell me my final project is ok”

……………………………….

You stood in silence, looking at the mess when you heard a knock at the door.

“I know I shouldn’t have followed and am expecting you throw me out the door but…” you didn’t move an inch so Kazunari took that as a free pass.

Just as the teacher told you, the electricity in the small building had had an issue and there had been a combustion, meaning, the sculpture you had kept here while working for weeks was now cracked and in shreds. You sniffed, brushing away the tears that were trying to come out from your eyes. All your hard work. All the time spent, had been for nothing.

“The Kiln is burnt. I don’t have anything good to save” you felt emotionally exhausted “Damn, I should have used air dry clay since the beginning… or not tried to sculpt anything” your vision became blurry again “I don’t know why do I make everything more difficult that it is”

Kazunari contemplated the situation, studying the seemingly full cracked sculpture from afar.

“Teach probably told you she would wait for you to turn on the work, right?” He saw you vaguely nodding you head “You got this!” he put his hand on your shoulder, you barely glancing at him “Look, If you still wanna use this base I’ll go ask for some moisturize and clean water to mix. Then I will maintain the upper part as you work down there, not bad idea right?”

You stared at him, finally grasping that he had come all the way here and was now trying to help “Why are you here? I… was being a busybody telling you how to work in our major” you had realized you had crossed the line back then.

Kazunari laughed, shaking his head “You were not saying anything that was a lie though, I don't want to admit it, but it’s true I've been a mess for a while”

“I guess parties require a lot of work” you bite your tongue hard. He was being a decent person trying to help and you couldn’t stop for two seconds to pick on him? You wanted to punch yourself.

“Mmm? Ah, our theatre troupe is almost opening for performance and the next troupe is on practices so flyers and scripts are running at full gas”

You stopped looking at your sculpture. What did he just say about a theatre?

“…What?”

“You’ve never come, Y/N-pyon? Mankai company is the best theatre in Veludo way! You totes should come, I’ll even send you the tickets for our new performance!” before you knew it, he had already DM you what you imagined was all the background information.

The moment you unlocked it, you almost dropped the phone. The photos and drawings of the posters were amazing, and you just knew who it had done “You… never said you had a job”

Kazunari considered what you pointed out. Mankai had managed to recover from what they needed to pay but they still didn't have enough founds “I’ve never thought about our acts as a job thought”

Your mind was a mess. Being an actor and doing publicity didn’t count for him as he studied? No wonder he usually left early! Now you felt even worst. You had behaved like a… “Uh, are these original templates?” you browsed over the performances’ posters, each one more astonishing than the other “This is… wow and this one?”

He blinked, noticing how the tone of your voice was now more soothing. You had somewhat calm down. He would high-key enjoy hearing you talk to him like that more often “Hey, enough about me. We have work to do”

You agreed, putting away your phone “You’re right but again I… I am sorry, Miyoshi. And thanks, for staying”

“No prob, Y/N-pyon!”

“Would you tell me what I could do so you stopped calling me that?”

“Eeeeeeh why? I think it fits! It's super-duper cute, like you!”

Thump!

No. You told yourself.

Coming back to your senses you told yourself the warm you felt in your cheeks was due to summer starting earlier. It definitely wasn’t because of Kazunari smile directed at you, helped you or how the sun reflected on his perfect profile as you both started working on your work.

Art was wild… but it was also an evocative of feelings.

_________________________________________________________

This one has been a difficult one! I wanted Reader to kind of clash with his mindset

Hope you guys enjoy it. Have a wonderful day! 💕

#a3 #a3! act! addict! actors!#A3! Actor Training Game #a3!#a3! game #kazunari miyoshi #a3 kazunari #reader insert #reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #miyoshi kazunari x reader #kazunari miyoshi x reader #one shot #a3 tsuzuru

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analogicisms · 4 years

Text

Music & Poetry - Chapter One

Summary: Popular-but-not-really-famous lyricist Virgil Quinn meets an attractive poet named Logan who claims to hate music. Virgil, who believes lyrics to be every bit the poetry as the kind found in books and anthologies and inspirational posters, feels the need to prove to Logan wrong.

Ship: Analogical (with others in the background)

Rating & Warnings: PG 13.

Chapters: 1 - 2

AO3: Chapter One

Thanks to @romantichopelessly for betaing and to @sunshineandteddybears and @paperghastly for pre-reading.

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

Chapter One

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

♞ LOGAN ♞

Logan sighed as he checked his phone for the second time in two minutes. He was standing outside of the main hall of the university where he would be speaking on that day. Due to his need for extensive planning, however, he was nearly two hours early for when he was required to be there.

He considered checking in with the dean of the school but knew that many people felt inconvenienced by those who arrived more than an hour early. Typically, Logan didn’t care too much about inconveniencing others with early arrivals, but Thomas Sanders, the dean of the school, was not just some man who had invited him to speak at this year’s graduation. Thomas was also a very dear friend of his, and Logan would hate to add any undue anxiety onto the man’s already burdened shoulders.

Sighing again, Logan considered the time once more before opening Google Maps and searching for nearby cafes.

Of course, Logan thought as his eyes took in the ten plus pins indicating Starbucks Coffee shops in the area. It was not that Logan was a coffee snob, though his best friend Roman would disagree, he was simply a man who knew what he liked, and Starbucks was awful in terms of taste compared to value. In his opinion, of course—although anyone who disagreed was an idiot.

Scrolling down to the list, his gaze was caught by the third listing. The Bumble Bean. Logan hummed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the pun. It was, after all, better than the alternative.

He noted the letter corresponded with the shop before consulting the map. Clicking on the name of the cafe, it popped up on the map and Logan clicked its little pin. The shop’s information appeared in a little bubble, including the business hours and, more importantly, the distance from his current location.

A block and a half away. Not bad for a walk, especially considering the suit he wore. Decision made, Logan set down his messenger bag long enough to pull off the suit jacket. Lifting his bag from the ground, he draped his jacket over the bag and shouldered the strap once more.

A quick click of the directions link on Google Maps and he was on his way.

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

💀 VIRGIL 💀

Virgil leaned back in the leather armchair he occupied, covering a yawn with his arm.

“Don’t start with that now, ViVi.”

Virgil grinned as he looked up at the barista who also happened to be his best friend.

“Sorry, Pat.”

Patton Hart was five foot four inches of adorable from the top of his curls to his white chucks with rainbow cat faces printed on the material. He also had the endearing habit of worrying for his friends. Especially Virgil.

“Late night again?” Patton asked, brows furrowing in concern behind oversized glasses with gold round frames. Virgil nodded. “Sleep is important, kiddo.”

Anyone who overheard the conversation would likely wonder why Patton—who easily looked younger than Virgil, though they were actually the same age—was calling him kiddo, but Virgil had come to accept that as just Patton being Patton. He was definitely a mom and dad friend.

Virgil sighed. “Yeah.” He brought a hand to his eyes, closing them to rub at the lids before offering Patton a winning smile. “These lyrics won’t write themselves.”

Patton pursed his lips as he set Virgil’s black coffee down on a coaster. Once he’d straightened up, hands were fisted and rested on hips. Virgil tried his best to hold back a grin, but the other looked too adorable like that and so he failed. Miserably.

“It’s not funny, Virgil. One of these days, you’re gonna wish you’d listened to dear ol’ Patton.”

“And when that day comes, I will gladly accept your ‘I told you so’. Unfortunately, I’m a night owl and my brain works best in the dead of night.”

Patton tutted but said nothing else on the matter. “Don’t forget, its drinks night tonight. Emile will be late but I should be able to close up a little early so I’ll be there at ten.”

Virgil nodded. “Alright. Honestly, though, I don’t know why I even go. Ever since you two started dating, I feel like such a third wheel. Are you sure you two just don’t want the time to yourself? You and I could always catch up later.”

“Nonsense. Emile is as much your friend as he is mine, boyfriend or not. And, I don’t want to hear another word about it, mister.”

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, mom.”

“Good. Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold.” He glanced up at the front and gave a start. “Oops, gotta get back to work. I’ll try to chat when the rush ends.”

Virgil waved him off. “Sure thing, buddy. Talk to you later.”

Watching Patton make his way behind the counter, Virgil let his gaze wander to take in the other patrons of the little cafe. A smile slipped onto his lips as he remembered the day three years ago when Patton rushed up to him before blurting out his idea for a bookstore coffee house. Virgil had never seen his best friend so excited about anything in his life, which was saying a lot considering Patton’s default setting was excited.

It had taken a lot of work and Virgil had put a lot of money into the place—an investment, he had told Patton when the other tried to refuse—but the struggle had paid off in the end. The Bumble Bean had quickly become one of the hot spots in town, especially for students at the local university and high schools. Virgil was proud of his friend and never missed a chance to tell him, either.

The gentle, light sound of the bell on the door sounded and Virgil idly glanced in that direction.

Oh. My. God.

A man who looked not much older than Virgil--but dressed in way nicer clothes than Virgil had ever owned--stepped inside and looked around before heading toward the counter. Virgil watched him as he made his way across the café, his eyes taking in the man's face as his own heated up considerably.

Gay panic is real.

Virgil quickly looked away, busying himself with drinking his coffee. Unfortunately, due to his preoccupied brain, he had forgotten that coffee was generally very hot, and burned his tongue.

“Fuck.” He swore under his breath, tongue now numb and raw. Setting the cup down, Virgil glanced at the man from the corner of his eye.

I’m gay. I am so fucking gay.

Virgil watched as the man stepped up to the counter after the last customer finished paying. He found himself wondering what kind of drink the man would order, mentally reminding himself to ask Patton later. Watching Patton help the man, Virgil guessed at what kind of job the man had.

A businessman… then again, those pants are fitted as fuck… lawyer, maybe? Or CEO of some Fortune 500…

Pursing his lips, Virgil shook his head. The man didn’t look like a slimy, two-timing, grubby-handed snake. It was possible he was dressed for a specific event. The suit aside, Virgil would guess a professor, or a scientist even. There was no way he would be able to guess correctly, he decided. No point trying.

Turning his attention to his coffee, Virgil was momentarily distracted by the sound of feedback coming from the front. A stage was set up on the opposite side of the entrance, a young guy around Virgil’s age if not younger moving the stool closer to the microphone already present. There was a guitar in his other hand and a smile slipped onto Virgil’s face.

Virgil Quinn was a college student at the local university but he was also a well-known lyricist. Well, well-known was a little generous considering most people weren’t really interested in lyricists so much as the band or artist themselves. Most lyricists were annoyed by that fact but not Virgil. He liked being famous without actually being famous.

Unlike the bands that sang his songs, Virgil could go where he liked, when he liked, with no concern for his safety or his privacy. Even on the rare occasion, a fan did care about the person who wrote the songs, his work was still appreciated and loved from afar. His pictures weren’t the ones being plastered online, on busses, on television ads, and so on. He had more Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube followers than the average person and he was relatively “known”, but definitely not enough that it made much difference to his daily life.

That was exactly how Virgil preferred it.

“Do you mind?”

Virgil’s attention had been successfully distracted enough that he hadn’t noticed anyone come up.

“Mind?” Virgil’s indifferent attitude quickly turned shy and awkward as he turned to look at the person who asked the question. The gorgeous Mr. Maybe-A-Scientist.

“I’d like to claim that chair over there but I’ll need to get past you to get there. If you don’t mind.”

Virgil seized up before mentally reminding himself that this was just another guy. Another human being. He could play it cool.

Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Don’t blush.

Virgil glanced at the chair before looking back up at the man. He cleared his throat and stood up.

In the brief few seconds that past between them as Virgil stood so he could shift out of the man’s way, Virgil became certain of a handful of things.

First, the man with his dark gray, nearly black eyes could not be a CEO or lawyer. While his eyes held a certain level of cold, there was far too much feeling in them. Too much depth. Second, the man was at least a head shorter than him but there was no way Virgil would have known if he hadn’t stood up. The confidence the man held about him was absolutely admirable. Virgil would have been worried the man was arrogant or, worse, a narcissist but he seemed far too polite and formal. Instead of self-importance, it was an air of near indifference that radiated from him.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah. No sweat.”

Virgil could have mentally kicked himself. No sweat? Seriously? This man was obviously a man that existed off of intellectual knowledge and discourse. The best he could come up with was no sweat?

Virgil watched the other’s face, certain to see some sort of sign of dismissal but it never came. Instead, the man raised a brow and a second later, his lips quirked upwards. It was slight. So slight that Virgil wasn’t even certain he truly saw it. That was until the man spoke again.

“I still need to get by you, I’m afraid.”

Was that amusement Virgil heard laced ever so subtly throughout the carefully chosen words? Virgil glanced at where he stood and swore under his breath. He was an absolute idiot. One thing was certain, however, as Virgil finally moved out of the other’s way. There was a definite spark of amusement in the man’s eyes and voice when he glanced back to thank him, before moving on to the armchair just on the other side of the coffee table.

Virgil blushed, quickly sitting once more and trying his best to melt into the couch. Not possible, of course, but he had to give himself props for trying. Deciding he had done enough damage to their interaction, Virgil turned his attention back to the stage where the young man with the guitar was now engaging the patrons sat around the stage.

As the singer started playing and fading into his song, Virgil almost forgot about Mr. Sexy Scientist. No, who was he kidding. There was no way he could actually forget about him. Not with him being so damn attractive. Not with him being so damn close. But, his focus was preoccupied just enough to take his mind off the man, if only for the moment.

That was, until a sound escaped the man, pulling Virgil’s attention back to him once more. Why is he so good looking? Life hated him. That was all there was to it. Putting such a gorgeous, put together man at arms reach only for Virgil to not have any chance in hell with him. The sound that left the man, however, had Virgil’s curiosity piqued. It was definitely a scoff that he had heard come from the well dressed man.

“Not a fan of this kind of music?” Virgil asked, before he could think better of it. He took note that the other had pulled out a book and was presumably reading it. He didn’t even look up at Virgil when answered his question.

“Not a fan of music, actually.”

Virgil raised a brow. There was no way he had heard correctly. “Sorry, what now?”

The man looked up this time, a wry sort of expression on his face. It was the look of someone who had had this conversation on more than one occasion and didn’t find it any more enjoyable than he had the first time. Virgil felt bad, but only a little. He was more curious and so offered an apologetic shrug, but continued to look at the man expectantly.

The man sighed, marking the page he had been reading with a finger and set the book in his lap. His eyes found Virgil’s and it was all he could do to not look away. Swallowing hard, Virgil waited to hear what the man was about to say.

“I’m just not a fan of any type of music. It’s just… not my thing. I guess, classical counts as music and I do enjoy that when I am writing but in the general view of what is music these days, I really can’t say any of it has my appreciation.”

Virgil frowned. How sad to not like any music. The man looked ready to return to his book but Virgil found himself not wanting the conversation to end just yet. Grasping for something to talk about, he took note of what the man had said.

“Writing?”

The man nodded. He continued to watch Virgil but was obviously not about to offer any further information without being prompted.

Just my luck. The most gorgeous man walks into my life and unwittingly challenges all my anxieties.

“What do you write?”

Maybe he was an author?

“I’m a poet.” Suddenly a hand was offered to him from across the coffee table. Virgil took it at the last minute, shaking it and trying hard not to focus on the fact that they were technically holding hands. Too soon, the man pulled his hand back. “Logan Wright. I don’t expect you’ve heard of me but you’ve most likely come across a few of my poems. They’ve been used in various media.”

Virgil could only nod, unsure of what to say. A poet! Not only that but a poet who doesn't like music. As a lyricist, Virgil was of the belief that lyrics were poetry put to notes in order to make a song—to make music.

The man went back to his book and Virgil watched him for a few moments before letting his attention return to the performer. The guy was not the best singer ever but played the guitar like a boss. Still, Virgil could hear the potential and knew well that this man could have a musical career hands down as long as he kept at it. The biggest draw to a singer like this one was that the words could be felt with his voice. That was a quality that so many singers didn’t have but the very quality that proved Virgil’s belief.

He knew he shouldn’t care. He knew well that the likelihood of him ever seeing this man—Logan—again was slim to none. Yet, he couldn’t keep his attention from returning to the man. Every few glances, he would see the other wince or grimace. Virgil wanted to feel offended on the singer’s behalf but instead, he just felt pity for Logan.

The time soon came when Logan stood and asked by him once again. This time Virgil was quick to stand and smiled shyly.

“Hope you have a good day.”

Wow, could I be any more lame?

The man smiled, however, and nodded. “Likewise.”

Virgil then watched him as he headed out of the shop and back into the world.

A few seconds passed, Virgil wishing he had asked for his number or something. Not only that, but the knowledge that the man was missing out on something that was inspiration for millions of people… that just didn’t sit right with him. If only he could spend a few days with Logan… show him what he was missing out on. Prove to him that not all music was bad and so much of it told a story.

Fuck.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Virgil rushed through the shop and out the door. He glanced in the direction the man had gone, his eyes falling on his retreating back.

“Logan!” he called out. The man stopped and turned, tilting his head in a cute manner. Virgil didn’t focus on that, instead starting toward him as the man started back, distance closing between them.

“Can I help you?”

Virgil blushed, suddenly unsure of himself. Was what he was about to propose stupid? Whatever. He would never know until he tried.

“Give me a week.”

Logan snorted. “I’m sorry, give you what?”

Virgil blushed and rushed on. “I mean… in there. What you said about music? Give me a week to prove you wrong.”

Logan blinked and slowly smirked. “And what makes you think I’ll even be here a week?”

That stopped Virgil in his tracks. It never even occurred to him that the man was out of town. He felt himself frowning and was about to apologize when the man spoke up again.

“I mean, I will be, as it turns out, but it is intriguing for you to just assume so. Still, your proposal has me curious. I don’t know exactly how you plan to change my mind, but I do like experiments as much as the next scholar. I do have somewhere to be at the present, but if you give me your number, I will text you.”

In the next moments, Virgil gave Logan his number and watched as he walked away. He had no idea how he had managed it, but now that was the least of his worries.

Virgil now had just under seven days to change the mind of a very hot, intelligent, and opinionated poet.

To say he had his work cut out for him was definitely an understatement.

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

Disclaimer: The author does not own Sanders Sides or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.

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yehet-me-up · 4 years

Text

Frozen North ~ Night Five (final)

PAIRING: Chanyeol x reader

GENRE: Horror/Suspense/SPOOP in general/light romance (because who else would I be?)

WORD COUNT: 3,375

RATING: PG13 (nothing gruesome, but knowing me there will be swearing)

SUMMARY: You run a late night radio show dedicated to telling scary stories and urban legends, the creepier the better. Listeners call in and share their own, creating a small but loyal community of folks like you who love this sort of thing. One night, a man calls in with what sounds like an all-too-real story and before you know it, you’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe.

Frozen North Masterlist

You all sit in silence, staring at Jimmy. The clock on the wall hits midnight but no one makes a move. Faintly, though your headphones, you hear the ad reel kick in.

Daniel comes into the booth a moment later. He folds his arms, looking haunted but ready for action. 'So, what the fuck do we do now?'

Jimmy spins the laptop so you can see the readout. ‘It was right here, I’m telling you. I’ve got it.’ He points to a large building on the outskirts of campus. ‘When the phone smashed, the signal died. But I’m certain.’ He opens up a new tab and overlays the UW map next to the program. ‘I got it.’

‘Albert Hall,’ you read over his shoulder. 'Why does that sound so familiar?'

Suse and Jimmy exchange a look. 'Let's go find him,' she says, as though it's as simple as that.

Logic wars with your desire to sprint out of the building and decimate anyone standing in your way to save Chanyeol. 'There were bars on whatever he's being held in, guys. And at least two people sick enough to do this. If we charge in there and get hurt, or worse, we won't be much help to him,' you say, chewing on your lower lip anxiously. 'Maybe we could call the police? Report a break in or something and they'd have to go investigate.'

'You're right,' Suse sighs, running a jittery hand through her hair. 'But, also. You know...' She gestures with her hands out the window and then back to the four of you.

'Fuck it.’ You stand up and pull on your jacket, heart racing. 'You're right. We can't wait.' Pulling out your phone, you dial 911.

Without even grabbing your bag you stride out into the hallway, pressing the phone to your ear. Shuffling follows you as Suse, Jimmy, and Daniel grab their coats and turn off the lights.

A female voice comes on the line. '911, what's your emergency?'

You stop in the kitchen and pull open the drawers, grabbing the only weapon you can think of - the long knife amongst the various utensils you all keep there for the odd lunch or dinner you eat at the station. The blade gleams in the moonlight coming through the hall window.

The distress and fear are all too real as they color your tone. 'Please, help me,' you say into the phone in a high voice.

The dispatcher carries on with business-like efficiency. 'How can I help you, miss?'

Jimmy holds up the screen beside you as you carry on out the front doors into the night. The address flashes in thick red. You head down the hallway and push out the doors into the freezing night.

'Some guys just took my friend into this building. We were just - we were just walking back from Schultzy's! They came out of nowhere.'

'Are you safe?' she asks. You can hear the clack of her typing in the background.

You feel the wooden handle of the knife in your hand and look at Suse, Jimmy, and Daniel beside you. 'I'm safe. But please, please, hurry.’ You pause to take a dramatic inhale of breath. ‘I think they had a gun.'

Suse smiles and nods at you. You hardly need Jimmy's whispered directions as you all move silently through the sleeping streets to the address listed. Something within you is pulling you towards Chanyeol and you swallow your fear down and keep walking as fast as your legs can carry you.

'I'm putting your address as 800 NE 42nd st, is that correct?'

Silently, you curse and hurry around parked cars. 'No, no I - I ran before they could grab me. It was 4120 11th Ave NE that they took him into. Please, hurry.'

If she thinks it’s strange you have the exact address ready, she doesn’t show it. 'Got it. I'm dispatching units now, please stay on the line while -'

You hang up and shove your phone in your pocket. Picking up the pace, you sprint over sidewalks until you stand outside the abandoned building. While it's clearly part of the row of stone and brick classrooms on the far end of campus, this one looks as though it in particular has fallen into disrepair. The trees lining the street behind you are dwarfed by the three-story rise of the building above.

The sign out front is warped with age. Albert Hall - Psychology Research Center

'Does it say precisely where in the building he is?' You whisper to Jimmy, as though the slightest sound will give you away.

He shakes his head. 'No. But I'm willing to bet it's through a back entrance.' He nods up at the boarded up front doors.

Your group moves around to the right side, closer to the University proper. Just a street away the city pulses with life and lights and noise, students enjoying the start of the weekend. But in this isolated corner, near the freeway. it's unnervingly quiet. The perfect place to lock someone up where no one would find them. In your mind you make a promise to Chanyeol and to yourself that this ends tonight. No matter what you have to do, by morning he'll be free.

The outside of the building is dark, sloping gently down the hill behind it. A gust of wind comes through the trees and you wrap your arms around yourself, careful to keep the knife's edge away. Holding your breath you wait for any sign of life or movement inside, praying you’re not too late.

'There!' Suse whispers loudly a minute later, pointing to a flash of light in one of the lower windows.

You start moving towards it, blood pounding in your ears.

Daniel holds your arm gently. 'The police are on their way, shouldn't we wait?'

The fear in your veins is strong, but something pushes you to keep going. 'It's Friday night in the U District, Daniel. I think it might be a while. I can't explain it but, we can't wait.'

He nods grimly and you all carefully pick your way down the slick grass hillside to reach the decidedly not boarded-up back door. Cautiously, you peek inside the darkened glass. Far down the hallway you see another flash of light, followed by a loud crash.

Suse uses the moment to pull open the creaking old door and she heads inside, leading the way. Daniel at the back gently braces it open with a doorstop and motions you all forward. If adrenaline wasn't coursing through your veins you'd take time to be horrified by the shadows in this place.

Your mind runs away with you in the darkness. Though you now believe that the people responsible for Chanyeol's predicament are in fact human and not supernatural, you can't help but wonder. About women in the night with terrifying eyes and wolves that move faster than they should.

You reach the room where the noise is coming from and lean in to catch snippets of conversation.

'So what are we going to do with him, then?' a female voice says. It's oddly familiar.

The sound of pacing in the background increases. A male voice speaks, muffled at first and then louder. 'You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to this. There was never any other option.'

The woman counters in a contained scream - 'I didn't think you planned on killing him!'

Chanyeol. You clutch the knife tighter in your hand, readying for a fight. Peeking around the edge you see two figures circling each other in the faint light coming from a generator in the corner of the room.

The man turns and your stomach drops. 'Professor Langford?' you whisper to yourself.

He hardly looks like himself. His jacket is discarded on the floor and he holds a shaking, shadowed object in his hand. 'This was the deal. You help me get someone down here. Your silly little radio station gets a story worthy of national attention. And then we reach the end -'

He walks closer to the light, pressing her against the wall. When his hand raises you see a gun, the barrel going to her forehead. 'I kill him and get my first-hand, up-close, look at what panic does to a community. I’ll finally have a case study worthy of tenure.’

You're so distracted by the fact that your goddamn professor is the one behind all this, you don't even pay attention to who the woman is.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Suse asks loudly, incredulous, startling you. When you turn you see she's beside you, staring into the room. Arms crossed, ready for war. Suse isn't looking at the man, but at the woman. 'Jennifer?'

'Holy shit,' Daniel says, coming to peek between the two of you. 'Boss, what have you done?'

And holy shit indeed, they're right. The anguish on her face meets the harsh light and it’s aged her several years. Her normally loose blonde hair is braided back and a dark knit cap is pulled over it, but it's absolutely her.

In the startled silence you hear a banging sound against metal. Muted groans come from further into the room and you can just make out a cage in the corner - like a prison cell with thick bars, but slightly bigger.

He hunches in the shadows, but you'd know him anywhere. For the last week your thoughts have been filled with nothing but him. You want to run to Chanyeol and get him the hell out of here, but the unstable look in the professor's eyes makes you hold your position.

Professor Langord uses the moment to pull Jennifer into his arms, pressing the gun to her forehead once more. The four of you move into the room, surrounding them, blocking the exit. 'Don't come any closer.'

As you stare each other down, other objects in the room come into focus. Noise machines you recognize from the station. Costumes, masks. A large poster is taped to the wall beside you - ice and a frozen lake as far as you can see.

Disbelief makes you laugh, the sound hollow in the empty room. 'You made it all up?'

Daniel scoffs in disgust. 'You crazy bastard. The cops are on their way. It's over.'

Jennifer sags, shame coloring her features. She raises her hands defensively. 'Paul, stop this. It's over.' She looks at you and your friends. 'I'm so sorry, it - it wasn't supposed to be like this. We're losing our funding this year and we needed the money. I had no idea it would be... this -' she gestures back at Chanyeol and up at the building before lowing her eyes to the floor.

Suse hunkers down for a stand off. 'Let's wait for the cops and then we can resolve all of this.'

The professor makes a noise of distress and points the gun at you instead, shoving Jennifer to the floor. 'No! I'm not going down for this. There's plenty of bullets in here to keep it all quiet.'

He's deranged enough to do it; his hair in wild disarray and a feral hunger in his eyes you've never noticed before. You hold the knife in front of you, stepping around Suse. It’s your fault they all came along and, even if it’s pointless, you’re going to defend them.

With your free hand you shove them all back, behind you. The professor lifts it to be level with your head and terror surges in your veins as you hope to God you can dodge at the right time.

All of a sudden a thunderous bang comes from the corner and the professor turns at the sound. You use the moment, moving without thinking or hesitating. Rushing forward, you reach for his wrist, driving it back against the stone wall. He jerks, nearly losing the gun but maintaining his grip.

He attempts to aim it again, but you're faster. Teeth bared, you lift the knife and hold it to his throat. 'Move and I'll kill you, professor.'

The fight goes out of him, raising his free hand in surrender. You incline your head and call behind you, 'Daniel, grab the gun.'

He does, coming forward and relieving the professor of the weapon. Jimmy appears on your other side, pinning the man's other arm to the wall as well. 'Go get your man, we've got this,' he tells you.

Together they hold him against the wall. Suse flips the light switch and miraculously it still works. She stands guard at the door and watches Jennifer with disgust. Still on the floor, your boss’ knees draw to her chest as she sits upright with her back against the wall. She drops her head into her hands with a groan.

Noise and light spill the hallway, voices calling out. Suse sticks her head out and waves. 'Down here!'

You finally turn to the cage, now fully visible in the light. Chanyeol sits in the corner, his wrists bound in front of him with a length of rope. His wide eyes meet yours emphatically. He tries to speak around the length of fabric in his mouth and you want to sob.

'You're okay, thank God.'

You easily find the key to the enclosure and unlock the door. Dropping to your knees in front of him, you use the knife and cut off his bindings carefully. He reaches up and pulls the material out so he can speak. He's even more ethereal in person - with deep brown eyes, ears that stick out, and a full, pink mouth, he resembles a hero from a fairy tale, even with exhaustion clear on his face.

You can’t help it - you grin and reach for him, instinctually, automatically, before checking the motion.

Your hands hang in the air and he watches them for a beat before meeting your eyes once more. Faster than you can process he sits up and pulls you against him in a slightly off-center hug. Gripping his arms you steady yourself, face pressing against his neck. The spell is broken and suddenly you accept that he's very real and tangible and here and alive. He smells like the ocean, even down here amongst the old tables and chairs.

'Thank you,' he says, lips moving against your hair.

For a long moment you hold each other, in this strange and terrifying place, feeling against all odds as though you've finally come home. You want to cry with relief that he's whole. He was so close to you this whole time. You want to hug him tighter and keep him with you, to protect him from the world. Even if it's ridiculous, and though you've never met him before in your life.

But if telling myths and stories of the unknown for so long has taught you anything, it's that nothing is impossible. 'I can't believe you're here,' you say against him.

His hands find your shoulders and he eases you back to look at you, one hand moving into your hair. For a beat he simply drinks you in, amongst the noise and the sound of police in the room he watches you like you're the only person who exists. And then he surprises you completely by pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours.

For long seconds his cold mouth meets your warm one, tasting and teasing and familiarizing himself with you while you hold onto him, believing abruptly that this must all be a dream. But then you join him, reaching for his face and tracing his skin while you sink into the kiss.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. 'Your voice kept me sane in the darkness.' His eyes open and you know exactly what he means. He tilts his head and motions to a small radio on a ledge in the corner 'I'm so glad you finally found me.'

You blush, unable to help yourself as you push his messy hair out of his eyes so you can see him clearly. 'Any time. For now, how about we get out of here?'

He smiles and laughs, the weak sound finding a home in the hollows of your body. Together you stand, gently helping him off the floor. With him leaning heavily against you, still weak from his days of being in this place, you pull out your cell and dial the recent number.

She answers a beat later. 'Have you heard anything?' Yoora asks, voice tight with sadness.

Instead of answering you press the speaker phone button. Chanyeol bends, reading the name you called and smiling at you. Awe lingers in his eyes at the fact that you knew what he needed before he did. 'Sis?'

'Oh my god,' she starts. You hear the sound of things moving in the background. 'Chan? Are you okay?'

He grins, then winces and presses the hand not around your shoulders to his side. 'Not all the way, but I will be.'

Six months later - June

The station is still hot by the time you arrive in the evening; the summer sun clinging to Seattle well on into the evening. You know how the city feels and you want to hold onto the warmth, too.

Jennifer's office is still dark and you pass by it without looking in. Eventually, someone else will take her place. But for now, Daniel says the management is all filling in. Like so many things after a trauma, life carries on as it always has, and some wounds take longer to heal than others.

You hear his voice when you're in the hallway and grin. No matter how quickly you get out of your class or internship or TA duties Chanyeol still manages to beat you here. His exuberant, deep voice jokes with Daniel and when you peek in the door they're both looking at the computer. They’ve been thick as thieves since he helped you walk Chanyeol out of that godawful place and into the ambulance.

He notices you standing in the doorway and grins, the familiar crinkles coming to the corner of his eyes. 'There she is!'

You never know who does it first. If he reaches for you or if you reach for him. Or perhaps you're both drawn to each other like magnets, always reaching. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh, pressing a kiss to his chest.

Daniel makes a dramatic gagging noise and mutters 'get a room' that all three of you know he doesn't mean. Since the incident he's taken on even more of a protective vibe that now extends to Chanyeol as well.

When it’s finally time to start the show you swap out for Suse, hugging her like always. If anything, this has all brought you and her closer and the four of you are inseparable.

‘Don’t have too much fun tonight,’ she teases, winking as she shuts the door behind her.

With a laugh you assume your place on the far side of the desk, settling in where you’ve always sat. The headphones are the same. The switchboard of sixteen lines, waiting for people to call in, is the same. But what isn’t the same is the man who settles himself into a mirroring desk opposite you.

He gives you a lopsided grin that makes is way into your voice as you start the show. 'Hello and welcome back to The Long Night on 107.9 KJWZ Seattle, where the dial might stop, but we don’t. I’m Y/N...'

After the story broke and everyone learned who you are it seemed silly to keep the nickname. The diehard listeners and people who called into the show know you on a deeper level now, and the show doesn't seem to be slowing down in the least.

When everyone learned about the financial distress of the station, that Jennifer was hiding from everyone, the donations poured in. The thought of having this program, now shared by your boyfriend, gives you a sense of peace amongst all the change in your life.

'And I'm Chanyeol,’ he says. ‘We’ll be your host for the evening. Let’s get weird.' He winks and squeezes your hand beneath the booth.

~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @yeoldontknow @enthusiastt @itskindofafairything @gogh-suck-it @nshitae @jeons-moonchild

#chanyeol x reader #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol au #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo au #exo horror #sorry for the delay! I hope you all enjoy <3333

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