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jeonqukie · 3 years

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PLAYING CUPID / 01.

SYNOPSIS / Consistently overshadowed by your older sister, you expect your days in high school to be filled with plastic smiles and apathetic peers with hidden intentions. Everything changes when four of the most popular guys in school join you and your best friend for lunch on the first day of school.

FEATURING / Kim Namjoon; appearances by Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES & TAGS / high school au, freshman reader, senior namjoon, student council president namjoon, best friend jungkook, lots of fluff, and some angst.

WARNINGS / Graphic and mature language, slight age difference/gap (to clarify, oc is 14-15 yrs old and namjoon is 17 - first part is rated pg); list will be updated as fic is updated accordingly.

WORD COUNT / ~10.3k

NOTES / I am a day late in posting this and I want to let you guys know that this is... not edited at all and I will be looking through this every now and then to correct any errors. But I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I wasn’t expecting this to be relatively long, but it was all to set up the characters dynamics and the history behind the reader and Namjoon’s relationship. Any feedback is appreciated. To repeat, I’m so sorry this was super late. Please expect part 2 to be up in ~2 weeks. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“You’re Sena’s little sister, right?”

You’d be a damn millionaire if you made a dollar for every person on campus tried to break the ice with you. It was a severe understatement to say that your older sister was known around town. She was vice president of the student council, president of the debate club, and the best player on the varsity volleyball team. All of the teachers and faculty adored her, every girl wanted to be her, and every guy wanted to be with her.

For the longest time, you assumed your sister was a celebrity on campus.

You were so wrong.

It was because you never met him. You’ve heard his name so many times whenever your sister had sleepovers with her friends or when she was on the phone with a friend, whispering so softly into the receiver, afraid that someone would find out about that she had a crush on him. You were perplexed because you thought your sister was a very forward person; she had so much confidence talking to so many guys who desperately wanted her attention yet somehow her palms would sweat over him.

“Hey, you know who Kim Namjoon is?” You would sit at the cafeteria for the first time with your best friend, Jungkook, who had devoured half of his ham and cheese croissant sandwich. He looks at you and he would raise one brow.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with hyung.” But Jungkook sees the genuine confusion form on your face. You catch a glimpse of your older sister who sat on the other side of the cafeteria, thumbing a reply on her phone while her friend nudges at her when she sees the notorious posse that every girl swoons over.

It was a scene right out of a movie.

At that time, you had the faintest idea who they were, but you were quick to find out why they were so well known around campus. Jung Hoseok was the senior of the group; he was a dancer and was featured in numerous music videos by well-known artists and he had an extensive list of choreographers willing to work with him. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin were inseparable; they were juniors who ran the school newspaper and the school yearbook – Taehyung being in charge of the photography while Jimin being in charge of the organizing the yearbook staff. Meanwhile, there was Kim Namjoon; student council president, valedictorian of his class, member of the honor society and numerous organizations on campus.

“Wait, you know who Namjoon is?” You were curious whether Jungkook knew of him, not exactly knowing the guy.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been my next-door neighbor for god knows how long. His folks and mine go out for golfing twice a month.” You just nod to his answer when you are shoving a chocolate moon pie into your mouth.

But your mouth instantly goes dry when the four guys appear right across from you and Jungkook are seated.

“Gukie!” Hoseok exclaimed at the sight of Jungkook still devouring his croissant. “Look at you! Finally, you’re with the hyungs in high school.” The tease made Jungkook’s ears go pink and you feel your own face get hot; not because of second hand embarrassment, but because you can see everyone’s eyes on you – the two freshmen who had no right to be sharing a table with, what you can only assume, the four most popular guys on campus.

There were many times where people would only want to get to know you because of your sister; girls wanted to get close to you because you were had a cool older sister and boys wanted to be with you because they were so eager to come over to your place and obsess over Sena.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no interest in her. As a matter of fact, you met Jungkook when you were in middle school and took a swimming class and later found out that you two were in the same class and bonded over your competitive nature in swim class.

“Who’s this? You got a girlfriend on your first day already?” You and Jungkook exchange a look of disgust with each other and create a sensible amount of space for each other to establish that you both see each other as friends.

“Oh my god, wait – you’re Sena’s little sister, right?” Hoseok corrected Jimin who had made the assumption you and Jungkook were an item. Jungkook can see the way you scrunch your nose from his periphery, and he decides to answer for you instead.

“This is YN. She’s… literally been my best friend since middle school.” Jungkook introduces you to the four people right across from you. “YN, this is Hoseok – well, I call him Hobi-hyung. This is Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. I’m pretty sure you know Namjoon-hyung because –”

“ – school council president.” You interrupt because you didn’t want Jungkook to reveal that you had been inquiring about him earlier. “I remember because you made that welcome speech this morning at the assembly.”

Namjoon is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and you resume eating your packed lunch, despite losing all appetite because you are surrounded by so many people did not know. They weren’t terrible people, but you weren’t mentally prepared for such strong personalities and dynamics to be introduced all at once. You felt like an intruder – a fly on the wall – because everyone carried on with their normal conversations; Jungkook and Hoseok were talking about plans for the weekend and then Jimin and Taehyung were already drafting out ideas for the yearbook. Meanwhile, you sat in silence as you ate your tuna salad sandwich, reading a new book you were gifted over the summer by your parents.

“Let me know when you’re done.” A voice catches your attention, and you stop all chewing. “The book, I mean.” Namjoon clarifies and he sees that you are already halfway done with it. “I read it a year ago and I’d like to hear what you think of it.” He offers you a heartwarming smile and you nod once, returning the same grin.

“I started it a week ago. I really like it so far.” The conversation is light and drowned out by the loud voices beside you.

You never really pinned him as a reader.

“So, how’s your first day so far?” He inquires and you honestly thought that the conversation was… over. Normally, that’s how all the conversations go when people find out your Sena’s little sister. They feign their interest in you and instantaneously ask about her.

“It’s… nothing special.” You admit, smoothing your fingers on the pages of the book. “Most of the classes I have before lunch, Guk’s with me. Now –”

“Now, her large, wrinkled brain is going to abandon me and get into those advanced program and honors classes.” You are rolling your eyes at your best friend who whines that you decided not to take the same classes as him.

“We literally have homeroom, social studies, and PE together and then we see each other for breaks and lunch. I think you’ll live.” The group laughs which earns quite a bit of stares from outsiders, but they seem to be completely unfazed by it. Everyone turns back to their own conversations and, usually, your social presence isn’t necessarily sought out by people.

It wasn’t until you hear another inquiry fall out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“What do you have right after lunch?”

“Biology.”

“Honors biology, by the way. Can’t you spare just one regular class for me? Or does your GPA really matter that much to you?” Jungkook complains and you are left ignoring his comments.

If there was one thing that your older sister taught you (something you actually agree with) is that colleges love a good GPA and joining as many clubs as possible. You even remembered how she’d phrase it for you; college admissions officers will cream their pants when you score that 4.0 GPA and do something out of the box from the rest of your peers.

“Or just get smarter, Guk.” Hoseok poked fun at Jungkook, earning a shrug from Jungkook. Namjoon, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear at the dynamic between the elder and the youngest of the group.

“Let me see your schedule.” Namjoon urges as he spots your clear binder which has your printed schedule on the cover. You push over your binder to Namjoon who is scanning your binder; he reads through your name, your birth date, the list of teachers you had for the semester and the classes assigned to you.

You feel indifferent about the sudden attention on you, especially from Namjoon; a mere stranger who everyone obsessed over was so piqued by you. You observe the way the corner of his slips curve into an impressive smirk as he glances over at Hoseok.

“Guess who we have for calculus at the end of the day?” He slides over your binder where the rest of the group examine the rest of your schedule, only for Hoseok to find a coinciding class with you.

“How the fuck are you in a senior’s class? Are you some math whiz or something?” Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sight of an advanced calculus class on your schedule. It was one of the things you were proud of you; you were good at math – it happened to be Sena’s worst subject and your parents often joke what she lacked; you had gained immensely.

“Yeah, YN’s cracked, hyung. I don’t understand. I remember in middle school they had to make arrangements for her to get into a pre-caclulus class or some shit like that.” Jungkook finishes his fruit cup and gathers all of the trash on site to toss over to the closest garbage bin.

Namjoon is sliding your binder right back at you, brows raised at you with the same grin he had on. He stares at you for what seemed like a long time – to you, it seemed like a long time and he is glancing back down at where your fingers brush against each other and he pulls away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I – um, saw that you were taking orchestra too.”

You nod and chew on your cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden about your appearance because you are very much aware that Namjoon is examining every aspect of your face.

“Yeah. I mean, I already know how to play the piano, so I might as well learn how to play another instrument, right?”

“No – yeah, you’re right.” He stammers and he folds his hands together only to be interrupted by Jimin tossing over a bag of pretzels at Namjoon.

“Bell’s about to ring. Pretzels was all they had left. We need to head to physics soon.” Taehyung and Jimin are swinging their bags over their shoulders. Hoseok is too busy on his phone, showing Jungkook a video of his new choreography.

Suddenly, you are receiving a plethora of notifications in the depths of your jean pocket. Your fingers unlock your phone only to reveal a series of text messages from your sister.

Sena [12:29]: Did you just spend your entire lunch with Kim Namjoon?

Sena [12:32]: Earth to YN?

Sena [12:39]: GUK IS FRIENDS WITH ALL 4 OF THEM.

Sena [12:41]: You have officially made a fucking impression to this school. I’m so proud of you. You’re sitting with us at lunch tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll see you later, YN.” The bell doesn’t descend you back to reality. Instead, it was his voice that brings you to pack up your things into your bag. “You might want to sit at the back for Mr. Lu’s biology class; he’s a spitter.” Namjoon swings his backpack over his shoulder. “He reuses the same lesson plan every year. If you need any help with them, you know who to look for.”

As you’re swinging your own bag, Namjoon leaves you with a wink as he is exiting the doors of the cafeteria into the school hallways.

Now, you understand why the entire world was obsessed with Kim Namjoon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mrs. Kang, your calculus, is a middle-aged woman who didn’t look like she had aged past thirty. You found it incredibly hard to believe the woman was nearly in her mid-forties who had three kids of her own. She looked like a stern woman but had a good heart from what you remembered; she only wanted what was best for the class even though it meant tormenting them with a shit ton of homework. “I don’t need to go over the syllabus with you bunch. As you can see, this is a much smaller class than a regular class because not a lot of people pass this class.”

Silence fills the room from when you had first arrived. You were one of the last few people to find your seat because your class was all the way on the other side of campus. It seemed like everyone in your class were juniors or seniors. There were so many of them who knew each other from previous classes; they were all huddled in their own designated spots in the class, so you sat at the front of the class because all the seats at the back had been taken and it may help that you’re at the front because it’ll force you to pay attention.

“There’s a lot of material to cover and there’s only so much I can do. Since we’ve implemented the new block schedule, we’ll only be seeing each other for an hour and a half every Wednesdays and Fridays. First thirty minutes will be on new material, next thirty minutes will be spent on practice problems, and then the last thirty minutes will be working with your partner on getting your homework started. I’ve figured getting a head start on the homework for the last thirty minutes will be helpful just in case you or your partner are lost, you have me to ask for assistance.”

Someone’s hand raises up in the air out of your periphery.

Mrs. Kang points to them. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“How do we determine who are partners will be?”

“Please tell me we get to pick our partners.” Mrs. Kang is already turning her back to the class as she searches for a box that had been hidden behind her computer monitor only for her shake the contents of the box.

“The last time I gave the students the opportunity to choose who their partner was, I’ve written a disciplinary notice for academic dishonesty twice a week.” Mrs. Kang prefaced, and the room goes silent. As she continues ruffling through folded papers inside the wooden box, you are already aware of how the partner system is going to work.

Everything was going to be randomly assigned.

“We have 26 of you total which means there will be 13 pairs.” Mrs. Kang announces, and she walks around the class starting from the left where the person is picking a folded paper out of the box. Each person who had unfolded their paper sat patiently until Mrs. Kang had completed distributing the paired assignments around the room. She is fetching a pen and paper as she sits on her desk.

“Alright, our first pair is –” Mrs. Kang looks up to see two people raise their hands; it had been Hoseok and a girl with the prettiest bangs named Mimi. Mrs. Kang continued jotting down the pairs until you scanned the number on your own paper; a large 12 inscribed on your already tattered paper.

You hear Mrs. Kang’s voice as she calls out for the twelfth pair and you raise your hand. You don’t see anyone in your periphery raise their hands, so you turn your body around to search for your partner.

Your body turns cold and still, but you can feel your cheeks get warm at the sight of Namjoon seated down at the back with Hoseok with his hands raised, revealing that he had pulled the same number as you. The thumping in your heart is loud and it beats hard as each moment passes.

Both your hands lower and you are trying to turn your attention back to the front of the class where your teacher stood, but you can feel his eyes on you. You remembered scolding yourself, unaware of why you were so nervous and so shocked to be his partner – he saw you nothing more than another classmate; someone to help him with his assignments.

“Perfect! Since we have our pairs, everyone will be sitting next to their partner from now on; I don’t care where it’ll be. I just need you to sit with them, so we’re not scrambling at the last thirty minutes of class to find them.” Mrs. Kang says sternly, clearly not wanting to waste time in this class. “Shall we begin?”

“How do you already have so much shit to do?” Jungkook laid comfortably on your bed, shoving down salt and vinegar potato chips that your parents had bought from the store last weekend. “Do you like never take a break from reading or what?”

“It’s just a really interesting book.” You say as you flip through the next page and bite into an apple.

You two laid on your bed, basking in the afternoon sun. Normally, you two didn’t have this much down time. Last summer, you two volunteered to be camp counselors to lessen the boredom you two would endure. It was either that or spending every goddamn weekend on the golf course with Jungkook’s parents and yours.

“I was thinking of trying out for the track & field team.” Jungkook informs you and you resume reading. “Namjoon-hyung tells me that the team runs right after school and it sounds fun. Events are early though, and we all know I’m not an early riser.”

The mention of Namjoon urged you to reminisce back to your last period that day. Mrs. Kang mentioned that she wasn’t going to let the class immediately sit right next to their homework partner – thank god. You just wouldn’t know what to talk about with him; you don’t really know what to talk about with people because they always somehow led the conversation back to your older sister.

But, at the end of class, he did manage to keep up with you as you hastily packed all your items into the bag before you darted outside of the classroom. You planned on walking home with Jungkook and you two would meet at the front of the school. Namjoon, somehow, caught up to you in time.

He had grabbed your arm and greeted with you with his million-dollar smile. “Hey,” He breathes, and you stop to offer him a meeker and shier smile.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re meeting with Guk?”

You give him a single nod before he hands you two pieces of paper. You’re curious as to what they are, and you see the words parent’s consent form along with the health forms to give to a doctor – for a physical.

“He’ll know what they’re for.” He reassured you and you hold onto the forms. “Thanks for that. I have to go; I have a meeting in five minutes with the student council.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him. Was there anything else you wanted to tell him?”

He shakes his head, and he starts reversing his steps, clutching onto the straps of his bags. “I – um, I’m really looking forward for calculus – you know, the whole partner thing. I must be really lucky to be partnered with a cracked, math whiz like you.”

Now, you’re blushing because you weren’t really sure if you were supposed to be flattered or offended.

And he read you so well because he is suddenly panicking but he hid it. He stops his reverses, and he takes one step closer to you.

“I’ll see you and Guk at lunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He hums; his voice sounded so soft and clear to you – no one can hear a single thing he had said to you, but you heard him bright as day. Suddenly, you feel a grin creep up to your mouth and you nod once. You had regained some of your confidence back and Namjoon can see it. “Cool, well, I’ll see you ‘round, YN.”

“Earth to YN.” Jungkook snaps at you and you pay attention to your friend who is lying next to you. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I dozed for a couple minutes.” You admit and he scrunches his brows, dismissing your moment of silence.

“I was asking how it was like to be in a class of seniors.”

“There’s no difference, honestly.” You begin your thought. “It sucks just because I don’t really know anyone, and everyone knows everyone.”

“Yeah, but you have Namjoon-hyung and Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook reassures you. “They’re basically your friends now because we’ll be hanging around them a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to or nervous to be spending a lot more time with the older guys. They made a good first impression on you though; they’ve probably only mentioned your sister’s name once. Granted, it was only thirty minutes spent together, but it was so much better than most of the conversations you’ve had with everybody else.

“That’s true. I have Namjoon as my homework partner, so I’ll… definitely need to get along with him.” You chuckle under your breath as you read through each line without comprehending a single thing. Your mind had been so clouded with the idea of Namjoon and you weren’t sure why.

Jungkook decided not to stay for dinner that evening even though mom made two pans of lasagna to feed a village. However, he did help you and your mother prepare it. Your mom was pretty insistent on it, so you promise that you’d be giving him some leftovers for lunch the next day. Your dad arrived home next; it was a typical evening – he beelined to your mom, planted a kiss on her cheek and patted your back before he hastily moved to the office to continue working. Sena arrived home from school at a later hour than usual before she was already setting the plates on the dining table.

“Alright, Guk, final offer.” Your mother says as she is pulling out two piping pans of lasagna out of the oven.

“No, thanks, Mrs. LN.” He respectfully declines before he is swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mom’s expecting me home right about now for dinner. I’ll definitely ask YN to pack me up some leftovers though.”

“Alright.” She waves him a goodbye before you are showing him to the door. “Walk home safely.” She bids him a goodbye softly as she pulls the foils off the pan.

“Pack me an extra serving, please.” Jungkook pleads and you roll your eyes before he already made his way out of the door.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”

“You did not tell me Jungkook was friends with Namjoon.” Sena settles herself on the dining table and you sit right across from her, waiting for your mom to begin serving everyone a slice of lasagna.

“Quite frankly, I didn’t know Jungkook even knew Namjoon either. I’d say I’m just as surprised as you are, but I really don’t know what the fascination is with Namjoon.” You lied through your teeth as your mom serves herself first (she called dibs on the corner piece) and you decide on getting the smallest piece since you weren’t so hungry that evening.

“Are you talking about Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s son? Is this the same Namjoon we’re talking about right now?” Your mom’s curiosity is evident in her tone, taking small bites out of a side salad she had prepared.

“Yes, and Sena is hopelessly in love with him.” You shove the lettuce into your mouth as you wait for your lasagna serving to cool down momentarily.

“How can you not be in love with him?” She breathes out hastily. Your dad has his brows raised in disbelief; his daughter talking endlessly about her crush.

“He is a nice boy; responsible, kind, gentle, polite, seems to get things done, really cute too.” Your mom lists his never-ending advantages, and you stray away from their eyes because you hate the admit that you find him incredibly cute.

“Can we please talk about something other than this boy?” Your father is already exhausted from listening to you talk about Namjoon and you don’t blame him, really. “How was the first day for you, dear?” He refers to you and you are still chewing on your dinner.

“I have three classes with Guk. I like all of my classes so far; I can already tell calculus is going to be… a lot of work. We have a test every week and we mandatory study sessions after school for the exam to qualify for college credits. Thankfully, I have a partner to work with just in case I don’t understand anything. There’s also –”

“Who’s your partner? Maybe I know them.”

Your silence is defeating, and you look at your dad who is waiting for his answer and you dart your eyes back at Sena who is piecing the puzzle in her head, so she drops her mouth open, gasping at your lack of a response.

“No fucking way!”

“Language, please, Sena.” Your mom scolds.

“I mean, you’ve been in the same classes as him before! I’m sure you’ve been in a group project with him or something. You guys are in the same clubs. I don’t understand why you haven’t asked him out.” You weren’t so sure what motivated you to blurt it all out because your sister was definitely a good catch, but the obsession with him was getting way out of hand.

“That’s ridiculous, YN. I would never ask out a guy. I don’t even know he likes me that way.” Sena is taking small bites out of her dinner and you sigh to yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “If there was only a way for me to find out. It’s not like I have a sister who’s partners with him in a class – oh, she’s also best friends with his next-door neighbor! How convenient.”

She eyes at you where you decide to focus on your meal, but her eyes are pleading and desperate.

“I… am completely eliminating myself from this predicament, Sena. If you want to ask him out for yourself, you should do it. Besides, who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing.” Your voice is sincere and genuine, and you hope she pushes all of her fears and insecurities to the side to do something about her feelings.

“It would just be so much easier if I knew if he thought I was cute or something.”

“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s not the point, YN. Listen, how ‘bout this? You don’t even have to drop my name in there; just ask what his ideal girl is like or something… or let Guk do the work! I’m sure he already knows the answer. Just help a girl out, please, YN.” You sigh defeated because your sister was really good at convincing.

It wasn’t really hard to figure out what type of girl Namjoon was interested in or… if he was interested in girls. All of this was easier said than done and you were going to rely on Jungkook a lot on this.

“I’m not going to prioritize this.” You surrender and she is giddy in her seat.

“YN, you are the best sister anyone could ask for.”

Several weeks have passed since you had last had your conversation with your older sister. You made an emphasis that you weren’t going to prioritize delving into Namjoon’s personal life. You were purely on a calculus homework and best friend’s next door neighbor relationship with him. But you finally get an idea of what Namjoon likes in a girl when he had to leave early for calculus to get pep rally ready for the first football game that Friday.

Unknown [14:34]: It’s Namjoon. Got your number from Guk.

For some reason, you feel your heart leap out of your chest at the text message. You’re still seated in calculus class working on the first few problems of your homework without him. You look up to see that Mrs. Kang is too busy assisting other students confused with the problem. Honestly, you were confused too and were unsure with your methods, but your mind had been too focused on your cellphone the entire time.

Namjoon [14:35]: Should’ve gave you the heads up about this. Sorry about leaving you alone to work. ):

You [14:36]: It’s no big deal. Seems like everyone’s confused, tbh.

Namjoon [14:36]: Fuck, mb. It’s the first game of the night, so I’m kind of required to be here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Namjoon [14:37]: I have some down time after setting up. Maybe we can work on it then?

You [14:37]: Just tell me the time and place, I’ll be there. (:

Namjoon says that he had somebody covering his duties for the student council before the game began. You see him rushing inside a computer lab that remained open for students to use. You had reserved a table at a secluded corner because you wanted to be away from prying eyes. He spots you trying to reread your notes and erase the umpteenth method you had tried for a word problem you were stuck on.

He admires the way your brows knit together; lips pursed as you began redoing your method on a separate piece of paper. He keeps standing, not taking his place on the chair right next to you – too afraid that you would interrupt your flow. You feel a presence right next to you and he nearly gives you a fright and you realize just how tall he is.

“You scared me.” You inform and he chuckles softly at how endearing it was. He takes the seat right next to you where he is already pulling out notebook and pencils from his bag.

“I left my book at my locker. Do you mind if I share your book with you?” You look at your open textbook and nod at once pushing the textbook closer for both of you to see. “Thanks.” He scoots much closer than you had intended and when he strips his hoodie off of him, you can smell his cologne and how good it smelled on him.

You ignore your thoughts and scurry back to the problem you’re on.

“What problem did you end on?” He inquires and you point to the exact word problem you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes in class.

“It’s been bugging me. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Kang because I wanted to figure it out myself.” You were so stubborn, he thought to himself. You had only completed a total of eight problems when there was so much more to do for the weekend. For some reason, you decided to stay stuck on that problem for god knows how long and Namjoon found it adorable – one of the few attributes he liked about you.

He reads the word problem and begins trying to solve the problem on his own. After several tries, he had figure out what you had done wrong and he so desperately wanted to point it out to you. Just when he was about to open his mouth, you turn to him and shake your head, covering your ears with your hands.

“No. I refuse to let you tell me what you did wrong. I can figure this out myself.” You whisper harshly. Namjoon can’t help but respond with silenced laughter because this is exactly how your homework sessions have been going; just the both of you refusing to let the other correct each other until the other figured it out themselves.

“Can I give you one clue?”

“Nope.” You popped your ‘p’ to accentuate just how persistent you were. You stuck out your lower lip as you examined the word problem again and he looked at the glossiness of your mouth and the softness of your cheeks; how he desperately wanted to lay his own petals right on yours as his fingers crawl to your face.

“So, I have a question.” He starts.

“And I can try to give you an answer depending on what it is.”

“Are… you and Guk by any chance – y’know?” His question is vague, but you definitely know what he is asking you because lots of people were never really used to the idea of a boy and a girl ever being best friends; for some reason, people assume they always end up dating and never talking to each other again.

“God, no. I love him, but I don’t love him like… I’d date him.” Your cheeks were fully flamed, and you weren’t so sure why you were so embarrassed to discuss this with Namjoon. All the times you had to clarify people on your relationship with Jungkook, you were almost disgusted and quick to reassure people that you two were nothing more than friends.

“Well, is there anyone you were willing to date?” Namjoon is pushing the boundaries here and he knows it very well. But he feels like he has gotten to know you well enough in the past few weeks to ask such a question.

“Not that… I know of really.” You try to remain composed when you respond to his question, but you feel his eyes burn into your soul, so you’re doing everything you can to avoid his stare. But Namjoon continues to stare right into you. He really can’t take his eyes off of you. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced what it’s like to be attracted to –” Just when you had mustered the confidence to look at him, he is quite literally staring so deeply into your eyes that it is taking your breath away.

He is making you eat your words right now; you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to…?”

“I don’t what it’s like to be attracted to someone.” You sigh softly; your breath fanning him. “On the contrary, I don’t think anyone’s ever really been attracted to me.” A chuckle comes erupting from your mouth, shaking your head. “Fortunately, that’s not really my goal in high school.”

“You don’t know that.” He quips.

“I don’t know what?”

“If someone’s been attracted to you before.” You shake your head in disbelief, chewing on the inside of your cheek knowing fully well that he was doing this because he wanted to seem like a dick for not disagreeing with your self-deprecation.

“Well, what about you?” You pose the question to him. “From what I understand, most girls and guys I pass by swoon every time you pass by.” He is chuckling to himself this time and he is very much aware of his desirability among his classmates. “You have plenty of choices; I’m sure you have the opportunity to date someone you must really like at this very moment.”

“That’s what I’m hoping on. I’m just not quite sure how she feels about me.” You feel like you were unraveling his darkest secrets and you were happy he considered you close enough to reveal who it is or give an inkling to who it is.

“Do I know her by any chance?” You’re hoping that you can narrow down who he is interested in. Because you barely knew anybody, you knew this would be a piece of cake.

“Yes.” He replies simply and he is staring at you. “You know her very well, YN.” He sighs, hoping you would finally understand what he is alluding to.

“Is she in my grade?” You were really hoping that the answer would be no or else you’d be breaking some terrible news to Sena that evening after the football game.

Namjoon nods slowly and he can see how you are not picking up his hints. He sees the slight disappointment in your face for whatever reason. Suddenly, he is perplexed because, in his eyes, he has made it pretty clear who he was interested in from the get-go. Many people should make the assumption, too, considering there was only one person he had his eyes on – only one person he was giving his attention to.

“Is it… that girl in Guk’s class who –”

As you are trying to list out the girls in your class who has interacted with Namjoon, he is in complete disbelief that you have not figured it out at all. How much more clueless could you get? He is sighing now because is frustrated. He admires your persistence when it came to solving difficult word problems in calculus but it’s frustrating when you are unaware of his feelings for you.

Just when is about to confess his feelings for you, you are greeted with another presence calling for both your names.

“So, this is where you two have been.” Jungkook ambles hastily towards your table and you grin from ear to ear when he is taking out his algebra textbook. “YN, one last chance, please. I didn’t pass my last quiz which brought me one letter grade down and my dad’s going to make me quit track & field if I don’t –”

“I told you I’d help you over the weekend, dumbass. I’m busy getting shit done with Namjoon.” You breathe softly before he is hugging you on your side and you grunt at how much stronger he has gotten. “But you’re buying me coffee for a week.”

“Sick.” Jungkook simply replies before he begins unpacking some of his homework. “You excited for the football game, Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook queries and Namjoon is baffled because the moment is gone. One interruption from his next-door neighbor and the moment’s lost.

“Fuck yeah.” Namjoon replies and he sees that you’ve suddenly lost interest in the subject. You were subconsciously listening on their conversation while you are back to resolving the complicated word problem right in front of you. “Will you two be going to the game?”

“I’ll go, but YN won’t go because she hates crowds and, honestly, she doesn’t know how the game.” You exhale in response to Jungkook’s statements. Namjoon observes that you decide to move onto another problem, wanting to tackle the word problem at a different time. “Everyone you know will practically be there. Why not give it a shot?”

“We usually have half of the bleachers reserved for the student council since we’re in charge of tickets and concessions, so it won’t be that big of a crowd.” Namjoon attempts to entice you with modifications to appease your concerns. “Plus, we’d all get to hang out with each other; no homework, no calculus talk – just… us.”

Jungkook is stunned to see you agree.

The night was a lot more enjoyable than you thought it would be. Namjoon waived off the entrance fee for the game the moment he mentioned that you and Jungkook were volunteers. Taehyung was already on the field taking photographs of the football players and cheerleaders while Jimin took photographs of the students on the bleachers. You even passed by your own sister who was busy with her own group at the entrance entertaining friends, families, and alumni into the bleachers. Meanwhile, Namjoon was overseeing every single aspect of the event; he was mainly at the concessions, not wanting to create so much traffic around it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You offer your assistance before he notices that you have your hair all tied up. “I’ve washed my hands if that helps.” Namjoon can’t hide his smile and he offer you a pair of food safe gloves.

“I’m usually one to decline help, but we really need it. Let’s see – Yuqi really needs to go use the bathroom, so you can be in charge of the drinks and chips right now.” You take your station at the drinks and chips stations. It was going faster than you had expected; people ordered too fast or too slow – there was no in between. There were people who were very certain with their order which you appreciated. Then, there were the people who were very fickle with their order and you can’t help but stand awkwardly to wait for them to decide.

“I can’t believe you roped me into helping.” Jungkook grumbles under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t rope you into anything.” You take the five-dollar bill from the student and offer them back their change.

“Yeah, but you made me seem like a real asshole sitting there not helping.” You can’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s pout because you knew just how much he wanted to just spend his time on the bleachers, watching the game with his hyungs. But he was stuck here helping out the student council while most of them were on their bathroom breaks.

“Once someone’s back from their bathroom break, you can go back to your game.” You soothe him and the chaos outside the booth is starting to die down. Less and less people were coming because they’ve all satisfied their craving and the game was building up – it was pretty close, so you understand why Jungkook was in there sulking with you. When you turn to look at Namjoon, hoping to convince him to let Jungkook off the hook, you don’t see him there.

You look out the window to hear your sister’s pretentious giggle. She laughed so differently around him – acted so differently around him. He stood right next to her with the rest of the council members, giving them a big pep talk. She looked at him like he was an angel who fell from heaven. Their conversation ends and the rest of the council members disband except Sena and Namjoon. They are having a personal conversation and you can’t read mouths, but you can’t tear your eyes away from their beaming faces.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You clear your throat, speaking so softly so only Jungkook can hear you.

“I’m all ears.”

“Does – does Namjoon have a type?” You say out of curiosity. Jungkook raises a brow at you, curious as to what motivated you to ask the question.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really heard hyung talk about any girls… or his type, to be honest.” He hums and he is staring at you stare at your sister and Namjoon. “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s… for Sena.” It was the truth, but your own curiosity was definitely a motivating factor. “She’s been obsessed with Namjoon since… as long as I can remember.” You breathe out, hoping no one else can eavesdrop on your conversation. “She’s been talking a lot about him more since she found out I knew him, y’know?”

“Huh,” Jungkook leans on the table and folds his arms. “Why doesn’t she just tell him?”

“Apparently, she needs some sort of confirmation that he thinks of her that way too, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Your silence is clearly something Jungkook wasn’t expecting because you never actually considered it once. “He’s a pretty easy-going guy; just ask him and he’ll be honest.”

“We’re not on that level of friendship yet, I guess.”

“Well, I consider you guys close enough to ask that kind of question.”

“Then, he’d just assume I’m being friends with him because my sister was using me.”

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Your own answer stuns you almost. Just a couple weeks ago, you knew nothing of Namjoon and, suddenly, you are on a level of friendship where you think you can confide him in anything. Perhaps, now, you really understood why everyone obsessed over him; why everyone wanted to be friends with him, why everyone wanted to date him, why everyone just wanted to be noticed by him.

“Then, feel free to ask him yourself.”

You hadn’t really worked up the courage to talk to Namjoon about his dating life. You repeated to yourself that it wasn’t really a priority to delve into what goes on behind the scenes with Namjoon. You were in a consistent state of going to school, doing your homework, reading books, and retraining your body to try out for the swim team next semester.

But the time came when you got sick for an entire week and missed so much material, especially calculus material.

But you were eternally saved by Namjoon himself.

Namjoon had requested to drop off the homework sheets and printed copies of his notes over to you. Everything was so detailed, and you were impressed with how organized everything seemed to be. You didn’t know what motivated you to reach for your phone on your bed and dial in his number. Maybe you felt like it deserved a personal thanks rather than a typed one.

“YN?” His voice on the other line sounded so surprised and there was so much noise on the other end. “Give me a second.” He excuses before you hear him move to another location, somewhere much quieter.

“How many times do I have to thank you for being an absolute saint?” Your voice sounded so stuffed. The flu was getting to you really bad, but you were recovering well. But he chuckles into the receiver and you are flipping through each page he had printed before you fall onto your bed, sighing blissfully. “I’m serious, Joon. I’ll say it a million times if I have to.”

“You’ve pulled my weight when I was off doing council work so much. I’m sure if I got sick, you’d do the exact same thing. It’s what partners do.” Namjoon is smiling from ear to ear; he was glowing, and no one was there to really witness it. “I – um, did you see my note attached at the back?”

You are now flipping through the pages frantically until you see a handwritten sticky note that read: “We have a quiz on the Monday you come back. I’m free this weekend if you wanted to study with me.” And there was even a little smiley face attached to it and you are experiencing a whirlwind of emotions.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” You can feel the panic starting to bubble in the pits of your belly, but you were trying not to let it show. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t rob you of your weekend. It’s just – It’s just too much.”

“I’m happy to do it, Ace. I promise.” The guy deserved everything in the world because he was too generous for the world and you weren’t so sure what you did to deserve such kindness.

“Ace?”

He chuckles embarrassingly into the receiver, chewing on his cheeks. “I – uh, it’s a nickname. I hope you don’t mind.” Suddenly, butterflies erupt from your stomach and there is a glow on your cheeks that you are very much aware of and you are curling into your bed with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I – I like it.” You sigh and Namjoon leans on the wall as he observes the rest of his friends and council members enjoy slices of pizza, taking a well-deserved break from preparing for the pep rally event coming up next week.

“So, is that a yes to a study session this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and hesitant because it feels like you’re doing something wrong when you were just having a quiz session with your calculus partner.

“Great. My place or yours?”

Namjoon insisted on coming over to your place because you were still recovering. Coincidentally, your parents had the weekend trip away with your dad’s work colleague for a wine tasting event. You debated whether you wanted to tell Sena that Namjoon was going to be arriving in an hour, but you soon realize that she was out with her friend’s house for a movie night session.

You had the place all to yourself and you were relieved and frantic all at once.

You busied yourself the entire day to make yourself look decent; brushed hair, brushed teeth, clean face, and fresh clothes. You throw used tissues into trash bins, changed your sheets, and kicked all of your dirty laundry into your hamper that had fallen on the carpeted floors. As you are jogging downstairs, you discover you have no food in the fridge, so you’d probably have to order a pizza or something to share with Namjoon.

Immediately, you question why you are so desperate to make the place and yourself so presentable when this was a mere tutoring session with your calculus partner?

The doorbell ringing prompts you to peek through the peep hole and you see him; he is wearing a regular white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He has his hoodie thrown over his shoulder as he begins texting a message on his phone, waiting for you to open the door for him.

When you unlock the front door and open the door for him, you smile timidly at him.

“Hi,” You greet him nervously.

“Hey, Ace.” He waves before he examines how you look. Despite your red nose and tired eyes, he missed seeing your face for a week; he really did. You stood awkwardly fiddling with your fingers and he can sense just how anxious you are, so he decides to tread lightly. “May I come in?”

His tone is so polite which effectively allows you to open the door wider for him to enter. You are nodding and you close the door shut behind him, ensuring that you have locked them. “I – um, I can’t really offer you anything to eat since my parents are out of town, but we can order pizza, if you want. It’s what my sister and I usually do.”

“I’m more than okay with pizza.” He permits and you nod and begin walking to the living room. “Will we be working here?”

“We can work anywhere.” You announce. The conversation is so light, and you hate how quick yet reluctant you are to your responses. “I – I can get you a glass of water, if you’d like. I’ll just get my things from upstairs and bring them down to the living room.” You inform him and he nods as he is making himself comfortable on the couch.

You are scurrying off upstairs to go get your materials and catching your breath because you think you were holding your breath the entire time. You’re stalling because you’re making a check list of every single thing you need for downstairs to avoid seeing him or talking with him. Just when you are about to exit, you see him at the bottom of the stairs. He is examining each family portrait on the wall.

Your face is hot because you can only imagine how terrible you looked like a child, so you jog downstairs with your study materials to gain his attention. “I never really realized how much Sena looks like your dad.” Namjoon comments and you stop in your tracks, only to examine the portrait he is looking at. “Exact same nose and smile.”

You purse your lips into a thin line because you are reminded once again that he is probably only interested in getting to know Sena – there was always that possibility. You were so familiar with this feeling of discussing your sister with other people because – yes, she is absolutely beautiful and intelligent and there was no denying it.

“But you are like your mother.” He comments as he takes a closer look at your mom who seems to be so much more youthful. “The way she’s smiling here looks so much like the way you smile.” He describes and you allow him to explain more by staying silent. “When you smile, your nose kind of crinkles and the corners of your eyes creases and your dimples are a lot more –”

Your throat seizes because you’re flattered and aware that he has perfectly examined your appearance and all the features in what he sees. He grows silent and he is chuckling nervously, scratching the back of his hand to distract himself.

“Sorry that was… super random.” Namjoon clears his throat, and you are shaking your head before you point towards the living room.

“I – I’m ready now.”

Now, you’re desperately hoping Sena doesn’t come home too early from her friend’s house.

Hours have passed since Namjoon have gotten you caught up with all of the materials and have assisted you through last week’s homework sheets. Namjoon was impressed with how you can keep up despite your recovering condition. One minute, you were sneezing and wiping your nose clean and, the next minute, you have your lips pursed and brows furrowed as you are writing equations down on a separate piece of paper.

“I got a question for you.” Namjoon begins and you are still too busy piecing everything together for a specific word problem you wanted to master.

“Shoot.”

“Are you always this focused?” You are typing things into a calculator before you are erasing things on your paper and you turn to look at him, showing him the calculator.

“Is this the right answer?” You ignore his question for a moment.

He nods and you grin at him before you proceed onto the next word problem.

“If I’m a week’s worth of lessons behind, yes, I’m focused all the time.” Namjoon is shaking his head and he is in awe at how you are so quick at writing all the information; he notices how neat your handwriting is too. Namjoon checks his watch and realizes just how late it has been and he clears his throat as he looks out the window to see the sun has gone completely down.

“Will your sister be coming home tonight?” Namjoon notices that you stop writing – you stop solving the word problem that you are tackling because you, suddenly, realize that he is asking about your sister.

“She’s probably still at a friend’s house or something.” He senses the atmosphere has changed and you shift your mind back to the practice problem right in front of you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason – well, I honestly thought she should be taking care of her recovering sister.” You snicker at his statement.

“She’s a great sister, but she’s not that great.” You quip, biting your tongue at how ridiculous he sounded. “I think we can all agree that she’s smart, charismatic, and ambitious. I will admit she’s a really considerate sister too, but she thinks caring for her ill sister is a parents’ job – not hers.”

“Okay, okay, I get it she’s amazing but not… amazing.” He raises his hands to surrender and his words coming out of his mouth urged you to inquire about his relationship with her.

“If you think she’s amazing, why don’t you date her?” The words came spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Maybe it was the meds, you thought. You see the grin disappear from Namjoon’s face into utter confusion and he tilts his head for further clarification. “What I mean is that… you’ve known her and worked with her for so long and she’s a great girl – I’m obviously really biased considering she’s my sister, but you two would make a… great couple.”

You didn’t believe that you were talking about this to Namjoon. You didn’t think you would have the guts to discuss this with him, but the opportunity came up and you took it. But you are faced with such an unfamiliar emotion. True discomfort arises at the pit of your stomach as Namjoon’s brows furrow together and he is shaking his head with the same boyish grin he always flaunted to the world.

“Ace, she’s great, but I… honestly see her as a friend.” He isn’t so sure how many times he’s reiterated those words before. Because little did you know, so many people have asked the exact same thing. Peers and colleagues in their class were very much aware of Sena’s not so little crush on Namjoon for quite some time.

“Well, I mean, isn’t that how all relationships really start? Becoming friends and then possibly developing feelings for each other? Most people always see each other as friends until one of them is aware of the others’ feelings, right?” Your tone was so quizzical. You were treating this conversation like it required rationale and logical reasoning to tackle the issue at hand.

But this wasn’t a problem the mind can solve.

“That’s the usual circumstance, yes.” He admits and he sees that you resume back to the worksheet. “But I’ve known Sena’s had a thing for me and, quite frankly, I’ve been interested in someone else for a while, remember?”

“Someone far more interesting than Sena?” You are in disbelief. You are trying to eliminate other people in school who is on the same social standing as your older sister. “That’s… not possible.” You breathe.

“You’re wrong.” You stop writing because you are retracing your steps on the word problem you are solving. He finds it so endearing how you can’t seem to understand that he is utterly into you, but you are so lost in numbers.

“No, don’t tell me, Joon. I’ve told you this hundreds of times –” You lift your head to look at him to accentuate your reminder; you didn’t want to know what you wrong, you wanted to solve the problem yourself unless you demanded the assistance yourself.

Normally, Namjoon would comply with your request. It was so rare for him to point out your mistake, but he figured this was the perfect time to do so.

“You’re so stubborn.” He breathes before he dives in.

You don’t complete your sentence. Because when you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes, you are met with his pillowy petals on yours. Your cheeks heat instantaneously, and you can feel your heart leap from your chest.

His kisses were soft and slow. You don’t realize that he has already cupped your cheeks. You’ve never kissed anyone ever before but, for some reason, it was like you knew how to move your mouth against his. He was gentle but there was a certain control he possessed. You pull away momentarily to breathe and, suddenly, you feel the heat of his tongue swipe on your lower lip. A shuddered whimper leaves your mouth before you are regrettably pulling away from addiction.

“N – no, that’s not possible.” You’re still in denial from the events that occurred. “Sena – she’d be so… betrayed if she –” Your brain is glitching and it didn’t help that you can taste the mint of his lips on yours.

“Listen, Ace, for one moment stop thinking about Sena and answer me honestly.” Namjoon positions his body to look straight onto you. “Do you feel the same way I do or not?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.” You shrug before avoiding his eyes. “I – I shouldn’t like you.” You sigh defeated and you are covering your face. You were ashamed not because you like him, but because you didn’t understand what you were really feeling, and you didn’t understand what you wanted to do. “Why – why do you like me?”

“You’re hardworking and incredibly intelligent.”

“I know plenty of other girls who are… exactly the same.”

“Your tastes in book are impeccable. You’re selfless to a degree that I can’t quite comprehend. You keep to yourself, but when you speak your mind, it leaves a lasting impression. Listen, YN, I can keep going, but you can’t… keep doubting my feelings for you.” Namjoon justifies and it was a tough pill to swallow.

You were too stunned to say anything. Too many emotions flooding your brain and it took too long for it to process, so you remained expressionless. Namjoon found it incredibly difficult for him to read your face.

“Ace, it’s really hard to tell how you’re feeling right now.” He points out and you understand just how awkward you sat there; head spinning with so many things to say but very little coming out of your mouth.

“I – I don’t know what you want me to say.” You admit. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting out of me with a confession like this. If I don’t feel the same way, what would’ve happened? If I do feel the same way, what – what was I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, do you actually feel the same way as I do?”

“I – I do.” You croak to respond to his inquiry. “I – I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself either, but… I think I like you.”

A wave of relief washed over Namjoon, but there’s a bit of relief for you too. It’s out in the open now, and you know that there’s nothing really you can do about it. There’s a very content grin plastered right across his handsome face, but it slowly transforms into a frown as he realizes that, despite your feelings for each other, nothing will change between the both of you.

“Namjoon, we can’t be anything more than friends.” You realize the unfortunate circumstances the both of you were in. “It’s not fair to my sister. I don’t think it’s very fair to make me choose between you and my sister. I – I don’t think it’s very fair that… you’re in this position.”

Your heart swelled just moments ago, and you can feel it crumble into pieces as the words come spilling out of your lips.

“I understand.” He agrees softly and you perk up at his acquiescence. “I’m not going to force you to be in that position, Ace.” The reassurance softens your tense form, and his fingers cradle your chin, lifting up to be at eye level with you.

“But when you’re ready to reconsider... us, I’ll be waiting.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

#namjoon fic #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader

200 notes · View notes

captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

Text

Psychosomatic- Prompt Fill

Soooo I forgot to fully read the prompt, so this isn’t season 2. Sorry! Have a bit of a follow up to my broken ribs fic!

cw nausea, vomiting (brief mentions), headaches, migraines, injury, anxiety, fever, oh and Jon is kind of gaslighting himself a little

And I have finished all my bingo prompts, but I plan on choosing another prompt list soon, so keep an eye out if you wanna make some requests! And the rest of the bingo fics will be out soon (I tend to post on Wednesdays, but I make no promises for consistency). Thanks again to @celosiaa for the wonderful bingo card!

“Jon? Are you sure about this?”

That’s Martin talking to him. He ought to pay attention.

Jon wonders if there is a correct answer to the question. There probably is, if he can think through the headache.

Think.

He is at Martin’s flat, has been for about a week.

Martin is finally going to let him back to work. Partly because he is starting to heal, and even so there isn’t much you can do for broken ribs. Partly because Jon needs to save the world, and he has been doing his all the convince Martin of this. There is also that terrifying thing about needing Statements now. Not that he really wants to share that with Martin. Because Martin is the only one who actually cares anymore and he could ruin it if Martin were to… He doesn’t know. His chest is tight. Partly from the pain, partly from anxiety.

Stress, that’s why he feels like shit.

Stress. All in his head.

Christ he has to answer before Martin gets concerned.

“Yes. I’m fine, Martin. You can stop fussing.” Does that sound like him? How brusque is he normally? Does this fall under the typical Jon being an arse (which… he feels very badly about but at this point what does he even say? They had a few moments …but he never knows what to say now or he’s in too much pain or under too much stress to really be a good conversationalist, and being rude is better than …no it isn’t. He’s just afraid of letting Martin get too close?).

Christ his head is pounding, and it isn’t like he’s done anything.

Just the stress.

Probably.

Stress or statements.

He’s fine.

“It’s just… are you sure? You look a bit peaky. And you do need to be gentle with your ribs so they heal, so you don’t, you know puncture a lung and die or something.”

Jon dodges Martin trying to feel his forehead and hisses with pain. He batts Martin’s hand away instead, pressing his other to his rib cadge.

If he’s running a fever… It’s probably just the pain. He’s been in a lot of pain. Ribs and now this headache, witch, could easily become a migraine.

He wonders if he has Excedrin in his office, or hidden in the stacks with what’s left of his belongings.

“I’m fine. Just… worried about the Unknowing. I’m trying to save the world, but had to take some time off… a bit hard to relax with that over my head. You’re no stranger to anxiety, I’m sure you know the feeling.” Shit. Is that too personal? Was the insensitive? It’s a bit difficult to ignore, even for Jon, that Martin struggles with anxiety. He’s seen the prescriptions by the bed, and around the Archives when Martin was living there. He wasn’t really invading. Not like he had back…. No. It’s fine. He’s fine. No the anxiety certainly isn’t twisting in his core now, sloshing his insides. Just the stress. It’s fine.

Martin sighs. “Yeah. Yeah… I do. And it isn’t going to get better if we sit around here, is it? But, you’ll let me know if working doesn’t make you feel better, yeah? You still need to take it easy. You aren’t better yet.”

Jon purses his lips. Not sure how to answer without outright lying. “I’ll do my best? It’s all a bit muddled? Ribs hurt so it’s hard to sleep. Stress makes it harder to sleep. Stress and not sleeping lead to a headache. Which won’t get better until I sleep, which I can’t do until I can make some progress at work so we all don’t literally die. Christ, I’m sorry. Let’s just go. I’ll have a lie down after I read a Statement and do a bit of research, how about? I… appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I’m imposing and probably putting you in danger, and I’m not the easiest person to live with…”

“It’s no trouble. It’s… nice having someone else here. I’m glad you let me look after you.”

“Not really like I had much of a choice, but I’ve had worse kidnappings.”

Martin makes a face.

Jon worries he’s gone too far with a joke that isn’t all that funny. “Sorry.”

“Let’s just go. Sooner we leave the sooner I can get you back here and resting. Yes Jon, I am bringing you back here if you’ll let me. It’s actually less stressful when I know where you are so I can be sure you haven’t been kidnapped again.”

Jon can’t really argue with that.

The tube may have been a mistake.

It’s crowded, and there aren’t any open seats, and no one seems to care that he’s carrying a cane. And while he could probably ask… he won’t. Martin tries to shield him from the worst of the crown, but it’s the lighting. Scraping at the backs of his eyes, threatening him with a migraine. It’s the jolting of the train between stops where he stumbles because he can’t lift his free hand high enough to grab one of the grips without it tugging painfully on his ribs. Martin tries to hold him steady, but it isn’t enough. And to make it worse, Jon is certain that every eye is on him. He’s small but conspicuous. Messy hair, cane, scars, limp.

Is it just his paranoia? Is it the eye? Is he just tired? He doesn’t know, but it makes him want to curl up as tightly as he can, ribs be damned, and get out of sight. It makes him feel sick.

Martin tuts gently when Jon almost whimpers at the next judder of the train. “Should have called a cab.”

Jon shakes his head. “I’d rather be jostled than carsick.”

Martin glances at him in concern. Probably assessing the likelihood of Jon getting sick in the carriage.

Jon wishes that weren’t a valid concern.

He’s fine.

It’s the headache. It’s the stress. He’ll read a Statement, he’ll do some research, he’ll take a nap if he needs to, but he should be feeling better by then.

Martin checks on him every half hour or so. It’s… distracting.

And concerning.

The Statement didn’t help. He still feels dizzy and sick, and the headache has only gotten worse. He wants to turn off the lights, but sitting in one position, trying not to vomit from the pain has made his ribs stiff. Stiff to the point that he isn’t sure he can move.

He tries to do research, but the words start swimming on the page. Shit. Is this even stress? Is he just having a shitty day? Is he sick? He can’t afford to be sick. If he has to recover from an illness that puts him even farther behind. No. It’s just stress. Stress migraine.

Probably.

The Statement didn’t help. Not enough anyhow.

He doesn’t want Martin to see just how badly off he is. Can’t bear the disappointed look, the worrying. Martin has worried enough. Jon just wants to hide. To be miserable in peace, just like has has done for years. But he doesn’t have flat now. He has a few clothes and a toothbrush at Martin’s flat now. He has the same at Georgie’s. And he has a shelf with some blankets and a few boxes of things from his flat in the stacks. Far enough back, and semi covered by a tarp that he’s not yet been discovered there.

He should go there, if he can. Curl up in his nest of blankets and pillows, see if he can find some Excedrin, and hope that helps.

He should eat something before the meds, but he’s nearly overcome with nausea when he leavers himself to standing. Has to detour to expel what little Martin made him eat that morning. He limps to his shelf. And nearly cries when he has to try to get himself on in without hurting his ribs more.

Sneaking off before Martin can notice just how sorry a state he is in.

He manages to sleep. Deeply. Painkillers helping enough that he can pass out for a couple hours. Probably. His head still hurts too much to look at his phone. Enough that he shouldn’t try moving, but he’s certain Martin must be out of his mind with worry. But…

But he can’t move. His ribs hurt too much. And trying to sit up makes him nauseous enough to wonder if he has anything to be ill into should the need arise.

He wants to sleep more. He wants to sleep long enough to find the Tim of last year to find him. He misses his friend. He wants the old TIm. He wants the old him. He wants to be dragged upright at his Research desk by Tim and for Tim to demand to know why he’s at work in such a sorry state.

He wants Martin to find him.

He wants Sasha to.

(He wants his mother to).

He feels too poorly to pull the blanket up, so he shivers, whimpering a little when that jostles his ribs, jostles his migraine.

He drifts. Too nauseous, too achey to really sleep.

He almost doesn’t hear Martin searching for him. Sounding tired and worried. Calling his name, and presumably checking all the rows, all the shelves for somewhere Jon might have tucked himself.

Jon wants to call back, but the minimal noise Martin is making hurts too much to think about responding. He’ll find him soon enough. Probably. Jon isn’t feeling well enough to disguise his hideaway. Even if that makes him feel dreadfully exposed. (Vulnerable to Daisy and Elias and even Melanie and Tim on their more aggressive days).

He drifts more, as Martin draws closer.

Jon wakes properly to Martin feeling his forehead. Brushing a few stray tears away. Tutting at the fever Jon presumes he is running. “Oh Jon, why didn’t you say something? I’ve been so worried. Burning up, we ought to get you home.”

Jon is ashamed to say he whimpers at the thought of moving. “Hurts.” It’s slurred and pathetic.

Martin shushes him gently. “Is it alright if I lift you?”

“Careful.”

“I will be,” Martin promises.

And he is.

It still hurts.

And the cab ride makes him sick.

But then it’s over and he’s back in Martin’s bed, and he can’t make himself worry about anything anymore.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #jonmartin #martin blackwood #fanficiton #cw nausea #cw vomiting #cw injury #cw fever #cw anxiety #fic #my fic #my writing #my words #art #my art

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syntheticsoulmates · 4 years

Text

Day 5-Boardinghouse

Alright peeps, todays is just the tiniest bit racy, but very melodramatic. Have fun.

***

Tom’s been at the boardinghouse for just over two days before he sees the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen in his life. Lucius and he are doing a short tour of the Continent, in congratulations of Tom’s new Mastery in Curses and Enchantments, and this has been by far Tom’s least favorite stop, in some bucolic bywater in southern France.

He looks up from the boarding house window nook where he’s been peer-reviewing Guggungawp’s fascinating new treatise on hereditary curses--an effort to out-wait Lucius and his tiresome pastoralist fantasies--just in time to catch of a glimpse of the boy as he strolls right by.

He’s short, but broad-shouldered, with tousled ink-black hair, green eyes glowing even in the bright light of the sun and wearing devastatingly tight Quidditch breeches clinging to thick muscled thighs and trim calves. He’s holding a broomstick over his left shoulder and laughing to himself.

It’s a Stunning Charm direct to the chest. He finds himself standing up, curtly moving the leather-bound portfolio of loose pages to the side and turning so he can get the last view as the boy strides by the window. Afterwards, he looks at the crumpled pages and scowls. He’s never been so grossly affected by his own hormones.

***

Tom is convinced he’ll never see the boy again, never suffer that gross loss of control that led to him peering out the window like an addlepated twit, and furthermore, shortly forget he was even capable of that idiocy.

Then he’s waiting for Lucius to arrive for luncheon, irritatedly applying his third round of Sunscreen Charms and wondering just how he will extract this appalling lack of courtesy out of Lucius’s flesh, and the boy quite literally runs into him. The crash of their bodies is like dousing his body in a Euphoria Potion, and Tom finds himself physically clutching the boy’s body to himself. For balance.

“Oh ‘Alo,” says the boy, and he smiles, sort of crooked and shy, and then, in devastating French, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Quite.” Tom says, forcing his hands off where he’s clamped them tight to the boy’s hips, and straightening the cuffs of his dress robes. He has a moment where words, which is ridiculous, because he’s made it a point of pride to speak French just as well as Lucius at this point, and then forces out, “My apologies.” He dips his head, courteously.

The boy’s smile broadens, but then he looks over Tom’s shoulder and cocks his head. “Oh, you’re not eating here, are you?” He asks, like he’s genuinely concerned for Tom.

Tom clears his throat. “Is there somewhere else you would suggest?”

The boy considers him for a long moment. His smile gets a little sly and his eyes fill with mischief, and Tom feels bewitched.

“Oh, I have an idea.” Then he reaches out one smaller square hand out to Tom, work callused and strong. “On y va,” he breathes.

They don’t make it to a restaurant, and they sure as hell don’t make it to lunch. They do make it to a small loft apartment, where Tom holds the boy down and ruts between the boy’s thick thighs. The boy looks too beautiful, too perfect, too good in the dim afternoon light filtered through the curtains, and Tom can’t bear it. He buries his face into the boy's neck as he thrusts, clutching too tightly at Harry’s hip and nape, some part of him desperately thinking how much he wants to keep this perfect creature and savaging his neck in love bites the whole while.

***

“Oh Morgant,” the boy breathes out, after, out of breath and dazed with the aftereffects of his pleasure. “I don’t even know your name,” he says, half-laughing and half-mortified, his hands coming up to cover his eyes. Tom hates it, being blocked from seeing his face, and before he can stop himself, he’s pulling the boy’s hands away, going back staring straight into his transfixing eyes. Tom’s convinced there are whole arsenic colored galaxies in there.

He resettles himself between the boy’s thighs, ignoring the slick wetness of his own come and desperately unwilling to give away territory he’s already won.

“That’s easily fixed.” He soothes, and Merlin’s saggy bollocks, but that’s so out of character for him that his brain nearly derails completely. “You are?” He tries, in an effort to recollect himself and be charming. He’s still holding the boy’s wrists in his thin fingered hands, pinning him in place.

The boy is so red, crimson although out the face and neck, all the way to the top of his chest, but he still manages a breathy and embarrassed: “Harry, Harry Potter.”

Tom’s heartbeat stutters in his chest. Harry. This marvelous boy’s name is Harry. And then his stomach sinks. Potter. Tom knows about the Potters. Knows how narrowly they escaped the Sacred-Twenty-Eight list, before they relocated to France and integrated into French Wizarding society there, how they’ve produced pureblood potions genius after genius.

And Tom’s been that Muggleborn bit-of-rough so many times before, a role that he’s very used to playing, but he stares into Harry’s soft love-drunk eyes and wants to be an equal.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Tom verbally vomits, not even thinking about it.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Harry breathes out, like a prayer, and Tom already knows this is a terrible idea because he hates that name, on those lips, like that, but he already committed.

Tom crashes his mouth down on Harry’s, and for the next three days he makes sure Harry’s mouth is too busy to do anything but plead him for more.

The fourth day he can’t find Harry, not anywhere, unable to come clean or even pass along fabricated information for owl post. He and Lucius’s portkey leaves precisely at noon, and he leaves that tiny nonsense town in the south of France with a stone in his throat.

***

Tom is definitely not still dreaming of Harry and the gross over-sunshine-y south of France three months later, definitely not dwelling on that Harry shaped ache that’s taken up an ever-present roost in his chest, when Lucius storms into his brand-new Unspeakable office in the Ministry.

Tom raises one eyebrow at Lucius. Lucius looks uncharacteristically... disheveled, normally glossy blond hair slightly tangled and without it's shine.

“Lucius,” he drawls, displeased. Just because Lucius is the closest friend didn't mean the man can discard all courtesy. He slowly lays his parchment down on his desk, so that Lucius can see he is obviously intruding. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Riddle,” Lucius’s voice is curt, and he holds a thick piece of creamy parchment in his left hand, which he slaps viciously against his right.

Tom knows he must be furious, because he skips pleasantries and obeisance entirely. He’ll have to correct him later. “Do you have any idea why my father has asked me why the Potters have approached him, demanding that the Malfoys take responsibility for magically bonding with their underage son?”

Tom blinks, utterly floored. “What.”

Lucius shakes the parchment at Tom, normally pale face reddening until he looks like a candy-floss topped tomato. “We have an arrangement with the Blacks! I am engaged to Narcissa! I can’t be bound to a…boy! A boy I have never even met!”

Tom blinks again. He leans forward over his desk, “He was seventeen! That’s the age of consent!” He says, somewhat desperately. He’d checked. Eventually.

“Not in France,” Lucius hisses.

Tom rocks back on his heels. Lucius throws the parchment at Tom’s chest, and he catches it with numb and shaky fingers. He feels like a dullard, like he’s swimming in soup. He stares at the parchment, trying to read it. The words swim. Harry. Harry, who he’d never thought he’d see again. Harry’s bonded to him.

Lucius puts the back of his hand to his forehead, dramatic. “Oh, I’m going to end up assassinated by the Blacks,” he wails.

He turns on Tom. “We have to figure this out before I end up married to him!” Lucius snarls, as aggressive as he’s ever been towards Tom.

Tom’s head snaps up. “The hell you will.”

#day 5: boardinghouse #Today's is a trainwreck #*hides face*#tomarry d&d-athon #brought to you today by a bastardized urban legend

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thevoilinauttheory · 5 years

Text

Never-Ending Survey | Maximiloix

Tagged by @elegie-de-sang! Thank you so much, and thank you for your patience! It’s been a while since I got this orz

Tagging: uhh... anyone who has wanted to do this and hasn’t! Please! Do! It! And tag me! I want to see all of your lovely characters!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Maximiloix Soleil Voilinaut

NICKNAME: (Hates all of his nicknames) Max [by most], Maxie [by Caromont].

AGE: 109

BIRTHDAY: 28th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon

ETHNIC GROUP: Elezen

NATIONALITY: Ishgardian

LANGUAGE/S: Common, Old Ishgardian, Old Sharlayan, Dragonspeak (to a degree, his pronunciation is horrible), Sign Language; in the process of teaching himself Far Eastern languages and dialects; is familiar with Ilsabardian words and terms, unable to speak the language fluently.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Pansexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Panromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: It’s complicated. Legally, he’s single.

HOME TOWN / AREA: Ishgard, Coerthas

CURRENT HOME: Mist, Limsa Lominsa

PROFESSION: Teacher, Aetherologist, Historian

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Unnaturally white with hints of brown. Base of neck length, kind of wavy. Very well groomed and taken care of.

EYES: One is a whitish-silver, the other is a light teal. Almond shaped, with constant bags under them.

FACE: Squared, angular jaw. High cheekbones.

LIPS: Kinda average for his face shape and size, always wears lipstick.

COMPLEXION: Tanned from outdoor work, usually on the paler side.

BLEMISHES: Aside from the bags under his eyes, he has very few visible blemishes.

SCARS: A lot. Mostly covering his chest and back. The most noticeable ones are the thin scar along his cheek, and a nasty deformation on his right arm.

TATTOOS: Geometrical patterns are tattooed around his entire body, everywhere except his face, to help him cast magic easier and more efficiently.

HEIGHT: 7′4′‘

WEIGHT: ~200lbs.

BUILD: Lanky and frail looking. He has muscle due to his time as a logger and Templar, but he is lacking in physical strength with his old age.

FEATURES: Long and well kept fingernails, well-groomed. All other prominent features have already been stated.

ALLERGIES: Deathly allergic to mushrooms.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Well washed and maintained, looks very soft. It is usually kept loose. On rare occasions, it will be tied back to keep it from getting in his face while he works.

USUAL FACE LOOK : Annoyed, irritated, and angry.

USUAL CLOTHING: Does not have much of a closet - or he does, and he prefers to wear the same thing everyday. Garishly long white robes, tight black pants, black high-heeled boots, and a black eyepatch.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Drowning, being buried alive, being alone, being forgotten, losing his friends and family, powerlessness.

ASPIRATION/S: To correct his many mistakes, and hopefully become on good terms with his family. Or at least speaking terms.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Protective, inquisitive, friend to the poor man. He *does* know how to have fun, I swear.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Almost constantly annoyed or irritated at something; power-hungry; selfish; will not hesitate to throw anyone under him when it comes to gaining new power and knowledge.

TEMPERAMENT: Choleric / Melancholic

SOUL TYPE/S: 16% Educator / 15% Thinker / 12% Leader

ANIMAL/S: Falcon.

VICE HABIT/S: Alcoholism, Self-Martyrdom

FAITH: Halone, apparently.

GHOSTS?: Believes in them to a degree.

AFTERLIFE?: Kind of?

REINCARNATION?: A more plausible and sensible option after death.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Absolutely loathes people of noble birth, unless proven themselves to *not* be assholes. Stays on the side of the poor man, and will fight for their rights.

EDUCATION LEVEL: While he doesn’t know everything, he does know a lot for someone who’s education level is “I learned how to read”. There were no schools for him to attend as a child, so he learned through experience, traveling, and reading.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Adelnard Voilinaut

MOTHER : Genevieve Voilinaut

SIBLINGS : He is the eldest of 9 - here’s a list.

EXTENDED FAMILY: He has a lot of children and extended family members, and here’s a list as well!

NAME MEANING/S: Based off the Common, Eorzean, name, Maximillion - which means “Greatest Rival”. (Also I just used the random name generator and went “what a cool ass name” until I learned how to pronounce it.)

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None, in-game.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Will never admit it, but thoroughly enjoys raunchy romance novels. Good luck finding his collection.

DEITY: Halone.

HOLIDAY: The Starlight Celebration. It gives him a reason to (begrudgingly - to keep up appearances) give gifts to people.

MONTH: Likely the 6th Umbral Moon (December)- not only the month of his favorite holiday and season; but it was the month he met Caromont as well.

SEASON: Winter.

PLACE: Says Ishgard, but really wherever his family and friends are.

WEATHER: Loves snow, maybe not blizzards, but definitely show showers.

SOUND / S: Silence, tea kettle boiling, pages of books flipping.

SCENT / S: Coerthan cedar; Dravanian Lilies; Furymint.

TASTE / S: Furymint, black tea - lots of salt.

FEEL / S: Wool and mink. Sanded down and polished wood; cold stone.

ANIMAL / S: Likes animals, will not own any. Falcons are his favorite.

NUMBER: 3,582. Specific, but there’s a reason behind it.

COLORS: White, blue, gold.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Magic and all things magical in nature; the ability to learn new things quickly.

BAD AT: Focusing on anything that is not studying or interesting to him; cooking; can’t swim; bad at dealing with people - even worse if the person is upset.

TURN ONS: Major turn ons include having his hair pulled on, and being embarrassed in public or in front of others. He is attracted to intelligence and someone he can lean on; being attractive is a plus.

TURN OFFS: Needy, or greedy for his attention. Displays low intelligence in situations that do not call for it. Sexually, does not like preforming oral - does not like mouth stuff, whatsoever.

HOBBIES: Reading, teaching, studying new things, traveling/adventuring.

TROPES: Jerk with a Heart of Gold; Big Ego, Hidden Depths; Villain with Good Publicity

QUOTES:

“He is not yours to burn - get out, GET OUT!”

“I have not felt such exhilaration in years…”

“I am not stupid, I am mad. You were a fool to trust me in the first place.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1 : It would probably be one of those villain origin stories, either of his life growing up; or it would be him slowly going mad - like my Memories!AU. It would be very dark, definitely an R movie, maybe even something horror-esque. As for titles? /shrug I’m no good with those.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2 : Definitely piano, organ, and harpsichord based. Maybe a little violin and cello. Something soft and somewhat haunting.

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?

A3 : Ha... ha... I don’t want to admit that it gave me a reason to be mean to people lmao. I’m generally a super nice person, a people pleaser, and a rug that everyone walks over. Max’s character was supposed to reflect a couple of things - if I handled my guilt worse than I have irl, and if he were the sarcastic, rude, bastard I have no heart to be.

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?

A4 : ^^ The above. Max was originally supposed to be young, naive, clumsy, and an anxiety ridden mess; and for the love of god, do not get me started on his original design. He became the opposite of those things, and Lothaire took up the mantle of his original personality.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Max is an absolute fucking asshat that can’t let things be. Let dead things be dead, kind of thing. Can’t move on. He will definitely step on his friends and family if it meant gaining more power.

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?

A6 : The guilt of believing that we are the cause of the death to a loved one. I’m pretty sure I handled it better. We also have a lot of internalized rage.

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?

A7 : lmao, he probably hates me. I *am* the source of all of his angst and anger, tbh. His life has been a mess and it is literally all my fault.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?

A8 : Caromont, Shango, and Amarice - definitely. All three are people who push his ability to be a better person.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse ?

A9 : Max is one of those characters that everyday is inspiration for him - it’s just finding the motivation to write. He’s not necessarily my longest running XIV character, but he is certainly one of my favorites to RP.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?

A10 : A while - I lost motivation, forgot it was in my drafts, then got it done during my entire shift at work lmao.

A big ol’ shoutout to @shangomango and @amarice-sovald for their characters and helping shape Max into what he is today.

#tagged answers #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #the cold truth: tagged

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kayr0ss · 6 years

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Boundaries are Important (and are Driving Me Crazy)

[LWA, Diakko, Diana is a nerd who doesn’t know how to deal with physical intimacy] [AO3 link] Hello there anon! It was just supposed to be a drabble but then 3k words

#15- …passionately [give me a number & I’ll write you a kiss challenge]

Falling in love with Akko was frighteningly easy. By the count of three, Diana was all in—mind, body, and soul.

That’s just how Akko was: she enraptures people without trying, wins over their affection without wanting. But she also gives and gives and gives and Diana reckoned that’s what made people stay; what made Akko such a beautiful soul, inside and out.

And boy was she having a crisis with all that outer beauty today.

She frowned at her book, realizing that she’s been reading the same line over and over again. She was distracted—disconcertingly so, and she found herself in this state of ‘disconcerted distraction’ quite often these days. Of course, Diana was a smart girl, she knew that at the bottom of it all was a certain Atsuko Kagari.

Her girlfriend—she blushed upon remembering—for all of eleven days by now. It was a bit past five in the afternoon, so that would make it eleven days and six-hours if one wanted to be more precise.

She snapped her book closed, finding it embarrassingly sentimental to be counting down to the hours but at the same time, she smiled. Akko had that effect on her; and while it might have been a little out-of-character, she embraced it nonetheless.

But where was Akko anyway? Diana leaned up from her recliner, noting that the horizon was beginning to grow dark and a chill would soon blanket the beachfront. It was nearly the end of summer break and they were on a (supervised) vacation at the beach. Akko, along with Lotte, Barbara and Amanda have been swimming for what felt like four hours by now. Professor Croix and Professor Ursula were suspiciously missing. The rest of their friends were huddled around a camp, and Constanze was stoking the beginnings of a campfire. Hannah was preparing utensils— she should probably go and help her after fetching Akko. Jasminka, of course, took it upon herself to prepare their food and drinks with the help of Sucy.

Diana paused, narrowing her eyes. That… might not be a very good idea, perhaps she should go help Jasminka instead.

“Hey,” a familiar voice caught her off guard. “I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your shirt. It’s getting a bit chilly.”

The blonde witch glanced towards the woman she’d been looking for, relieved that she wouldn’t have to go and fetch her from the coast, “Akko. I was beginning to worry. It’s unsafe to be swimming after dar—”

Diana choked on her words. Then she felt her blood skyrocket towards her face.

“Diana?” Akko tilted her head in concern.

She probably had an expression that no dignified Cavendish should be caught wearing.

Akko, bless her soul, was fresh from the ocean and—litearlly—dripping wet. Her skin glistened in the afternoon sunset, and her red, unfairly flattering, two-piece swimsuit could be seen through Diana’s white button up shirt. It was damp, sticking to Akko’s skin in a way that made Diana want to send herself to detention. She swallowed, noting that Akko hadn’t bothered buttoning it up properly, and the overall disheveled effect was making her face burn up in a fire that started at the pit of her stomach.

“Everything okay, babe?”

No, everything was most certainly not okay. Since when did Akko call her babe? It was a double-whammy within two minutes for Diana, and soon she was blinking to shake herself out of her stupor. Akko must have noticed the look she was getting, because she smiled sheepishly, suddenly finding the sand interesting and nervously chuckling to her feet.

“Yikes. I thought I’d try the whole term-of-endearment-thing out,” she scratched at the back of her head, trying to gauge Diana’s reaction, “we—we don’t have to do it! If you don’t want! I just thought—”

“No, no I—uh—don’t mind,” Diana finally found her voice, laughing a little at Akko how was twiddling with her thumbs. Granted, she was a fidgety person by nature, but it comforted her to know that they were both a little clueless in navigating their newly-upgraded relationship status.

Akko did what she did best to dispel a kind-of-awkward situation, “would you prefer something from the eighteen-hundreds like ‘My Dearest’?”

Diana raised an eyebrow, “I am not that old fashioned.”

“Or perhaps,” Akko had put on an exaggerated Shakespearean voice, “you’re the cheesy ‘My Love’, type!”

“Akko,” Diana nagged.

She wasn’t going to admit that if Akko called her that it was probably going to work.

But Akko just giggled at her response—soon their fingers were intertwined. Joking around was familiar territory, and the blonde could appreciate that she could at least talk and keep her eyes above Akko’s collarbone.

—

By the time summer break was over, they were twenty-eight days into dating.

Diana would always remember the eleventh day as the beginning of the end—at least, the end of her upstanding reputation and dignity as a model student of Luna Nova and heir apparent of the Cavendish Aristocracy. Sure, she was being overly dramatic about it, but she really did have a reputation to uphold and she would much rather turn into a tree than be caught ogling Akko in school; in public. Hannah had unfortunately seen the moment her jaw went slack; that moment when Akko showed up wearing her damp, white shirt on top of a swimsuit. Needless to say, the teasing was merciless.

Of course, just because it was merciless doesn’t mean it wasn’t manageable. At least it was Hannah. It could have been much worse—it could have been Amanda.

“I think you need to cut yourself some slack, Diana.”

The blonde in question looked up from her notes, the corner of the pages growing worn from her habit of worrying at them.

Hannah was sitting across her at the table in the common area. Her arms were crossed and she looked a bit… exasperated?

“You’re fidgeting with your notebook, and pulling your ‘overthinking’ face. Judging by the way your ears have turned red—”

“They’re what?”

“—it’s probably about Akko.”

Diana was expressionless for a moment, debating on whether or not she should disclose her inner turmoil to her friend, and—she sighed. Hannah was literally the only person she could talk to about it. She looked at her hands, feeling a blush creep on her cheeks while she admitted, “I feel quite… unbecoming.”

Hannah nodded, leaning forward on her elbows and motioning for Diana to continue.

“Akko has been increasingly distracting as of late.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Hannah snickered, “Akko is distracting for everyone.”

Diana smiled; she wasn’t wrong. Then she sighed, and if Hannah looked hard enough she would have noticed the pleading look on the blonde’s face when she said, “but my case is—ah—a bit different from everyone, or so I hope.”

“Is this about her looking extra-hot at the beach? Because that’s totally understandable.”

Hannah was kidding. She was teasing her to put her at ease, Diana knew this, except, well, this time there was no indignant huffing or crossing of the arms. Instead, she sighed, chewing at her lip in distress.

“Oh, no.” Hannah stared. “It actually is?”

The thought of saying yes was a little mortifying, so Diana just glared.

Picking up on her friend’s cue, Hannah stared back, as confused as Diana was bashful, “you do know that’s perfectly normal right?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re dating,” Hannah gestured with both hands to emphasize her point. “You’re supposed to find her attractive.”

“I’ve always known she was beautiful—”

“No, no, that’s not what we’re talking about. You’re head over heels, we get it, but you two aren’t exactly kids anymore. You’re nineteen; that makes Akko about eighteen, yes? I’m talking about the kind of attraction related to physical intimacy, and—oh my god? Are you okay?”

The words ‘physical intimacy’ and a certain image of Akko at the beach had elicited a rather strong reaction in her. Aside from the obvious and undeniable flush of her cheeks, there was a knot doubling in on itself at her stomach, and by Jennifer, she didn’t know what to expect but she felt kind of… angry?

Her fists balled in frustration and, “she’s going to be the death of me.”

Hannah physically backed away.

“I mean—by the Nine—have you seen her? Like seen her? In the most mundane of situations? Perhaps when she is tying her hair, or chewing on her lip while she works on her essays.” Diana ran a shaky hand through her hair, fighting for composure, “she doesn’t even try. It’s everything I can do to restrain myself from—I honestly don’t even know what. And I have no right to come forward to Akko in relation to these… feelings. They are utterly my responsibility.”

“Oh my god,” Hannah shook her head in disbelief, “you are… major league repressed, Diana.”

—

They’ve kissed before, of course.

Akko lips were soft and sweet, and Diana could feel her entire being melt into every kiss they had ever shared. That part of her—her soft, loving gaze, the pads of her finger tips ghosting gently across Akko’s cheek—that was reserved only for the woman she loved.

And, of course, for places of respectable privacy.

Akko liked to sneak behind bookshelves for a peck on the lips, and Diana didn’t mind; but she was also more modest when it came to public displays of affection. Kisses on the cheek from ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ already left her flustered, and blatant displays of flirting and of bashfulness did not contribute to the reputation that a student of her caliber had to uphold.

This isn’t to say that she was ashamed of Akko. Definitely not. They held hands in public, and Diana was never one to mince words when asked about her relationship. Yes, they were dating, exclusively—Akko was very much taken.

Hers. For a good thirty-three days, if her count was correct.

But of course it is.

She gazed at Akko from two tables away. The topic was antivenom-type potions; she had already read up on it two weeks ago and could afford a few moments of distraction. And she was very much distracted. Those lovely red eyes, and smooth, brown hair was calling out to her, and the moment she noticed Akko’s forwardly short skirt she almost felt affronted. Not by Akko—but by the flare of unprocessed emotions that had thrown a party in her head. She felt a little infuriated at their refusal to co-exist with the level of decorum she had imposed on herself. This was going to drive her crazy, and she really, really wished she was just ‘Diana’ and not ‘Diana Cavendish of a thousand expectations to fulfil’.

“Hey,”

Apparently, she was distracted for more than just ‘a few moments’ and the period had flown by.

‘I want to sneak behind a bookshelf and give you more than just a peck on the lips’, is what Diana wanted to say, but of course she’d settle for, “hello.”

Akko looked amused, “hello?”

Diana blinked. “Hi?”

Akko was laughing, and the sound brought a smile to Diana’s lips. She felt fingers thread with her own, “you’re being… weirder than usual.”

“I dislike the implication that I’m usually weird.”

“Right,” Akko stuck out her tongue, “would you feel better if I used the word ‘peculiar’? No, no, maybe ‘inscrutable’. You like big words and I can’t seem to figure out what you’re thinking. ‘Acting strange’ actually works, but I think strange is too simple a word for your liking so—”

“Akko,” Diana rolled her eyes.

“So what is going on,” Akko pouted, “underneath all that soft, poofy, obscurely colored hair?”

“‘Obscure’ was a good one, although I’m quite reluctant to use it as a descriptor for my hair.”

“That segue would have worked!” Akko raised her index finger, “if I wasn’t too curious about what’s gotten into you. You’re spacing out. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Diana hummed, leaning into Akko’s personal space when she noticed that the rest of the students had filed out of the room. Was this a respectable level of privacy? Diana blushed when she realized that it was. She wanted to—to—

“Diana?” Akko softly rubbed at Diana’s forearm, her earlier teasing replaced with a tinge of concern.

She wanted to wipe that worried frown away.

So she inched in closer, cupping Akko’s cheek and pressing her lips softly against the brunette’s. She felt Akko relax, hands coming up to rest on Diana’s shoulders.

When she pulled back—a mere few centimeters—Akko’s eyes had fluttered open charmingly, and Diana felt overwhelmed by everything she had fought to keep back. She inhaled, and didn’t notice the way her hands grabbed at the back of Akko’s clothing and—

They were kissing again. Or, as it was, Diana was kissing Akko. With much more conviction than she had ever done before. Her head tilted sideways, and a tremor traveled down her spine when she felt Akko’s lips part a little. There was a sound from the back of her throat, and she noticed that Akko’s hand was threaded through her hair. Before she could even register what she was doing, she had taken Akko’s lower lip in-between her teeth and oh-so-gently-nibbled, before pulling away and running her tongue along to soothe the area.

Akko had made an undignified squeak—

Realization hit Diana like a brick to the face, and in less than a second Akko was pushed a good arms-length away.

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Bright, red, blinking eyes were dazed and confused, and oh my lord, her lip was a little swollen, but the sound she made didn’t sound like it was comfortable so—

“I—I apologize,” Diana stammered, her heart beating a thousand by the minute and she thought she might burst a blood vessel, “I didn’t mean to be so—” she pulled back her hands, and honestly Akko looked completely floored, “I respect you!” she promised, “and your boundaries. I shouldn’t have pushed, I—I—”

“Diana, calm down—” Akko held up her palms to placate her erratic girlfriend but it wasn’t working.

“That was utterly reprehensible of me, I should have at least asked and I—”

In a fit of too many emotions at once to name, she blinked, then turned on her heel, storming out of the classroom, cursing herself, Bellatrix, her god-forsaken button-up shirt, and fine, maybe it was reasonable to curse the length of Akko’s skirt this one time.

Diana fell into distress; Akko probably thought she was utterly impudent.

—

“Holy shit,” Akko had her hands in her hair in bewilderment, “she was so cute.”

“And she just stormed off?” Hannah tried not snicker.

“Yeah! Like. She literally pushed me a total arms’ length away and began telling me about how much she respected me—”

“That sounds just like her,” Barbara nodded.

“—and honestly? I was so… swooning? Doesn’t every girl just want to be respected?”

“But surely you also wanted her to—”

“O—Of course!” Akko cut Hannah off, blushing a little bit at the thought of what she wanted. Of course she wanted it! Diana was gorgeous, and while Akko loved her for everything that she was—not just the porcelain looks and sapphire eyes—was it wrong for her to appreciate the more… physical aspects of their relationship?

“Well, it’s been eating her up for a while now—”

“It was?!” Akko and Barbara asked in matching incredulity.

“You both didn’t see it coming?”

“Well,” Akko shrugged, “I know she’s a big softie, but when it came to stuff like that she’s just all ‘Cavendish’ and dignified and her darned reputation, you know!”

Barbara shot her a soft smile, “do you at least know that she loves you more than she cares about all those?”

“She does,” Hannah supplied, “just in case you’re stupid enough to think otherwise.”

She never doubted Diana. And while that in itself was enough for Akko, hearing the blonde’s two closest friends affirm something that was a bit of an insecurity on her part made her heart flutter, to say the least.

“But she isn’t here,” Hannah snapped her out of her musings.

Akko sighed, that much was obvious the moment they opened the door for her. But where on earth would she storm off to? The library? Unlikely, granted that it was such an obvious choice.

She blinked. The observatory?

—

“Mou, Diana!”

Diana cursed, and was honestly at a total loss regarding what to feel. Seeing Akko was always a wonderful thing, but after the amount of stupidity she had exhibited, she just wanted to phase into the observatory’s wall and hide for another hour or two. Perhaps pull off a Chariot and make it ten years. Interestingly enough, there might just be a spell for that.

“You can’t pull something like that and then storm out on me,” Akko had her arms crossed, but to the blonde’s relief there didn’t seem to be any trace of, she didn’t know, unbridled rage or unmitigated fury.

“That was completely obtuse of me,” the blonde sighed.

“You know so many synonyms for ‘stupid’, I’m a bit concerned,” Akko was walking towards her. Her hands were opened; inviting. Their fingers brushed and Diana was feeling better just being able to hold her again.

When put into perspective, the entire debacle she had suffered through was laughable. Hannah was on point. She was painfully repressed, glaringly self-conscious. But whenever Akko held her, looked at her, she was just Diana—exactly how she wanted to be.

“You make me feel things I’m ill-equipped to handle,” she admitted, breathing in slowly while Akko’s hands travelled from her palms, up her arms, to her shoulders before clasping together around her neck. The sensation was electrifying.

“Such as?”

“I love you.” Diana blurted out.

Akko blushed prettily, but she snickered, “and you can’t handle that?”

“N—No, I just—” Diana sighed, learning against the brunette’s forehead, “am coming to terms with the many different ways to express it.”

“You’re kinda silly,” Akko chuckled, “for someone so smart.”

For once, Diana wasn’t going to argue against that.

“I love you.”

Diana closed her eyes, memorizing the sound of Akko’s voice and the words she had just spoken.

“So why don’t you—” Akko’s voice was suddenly a purr. Taking a page from Diana’s book, she had leaned in for a kiss, and Diana felt her knees go weak when she felt a tongue dart out tease against her lips, “—pick up where you left off?”

“Akko,”

“I appreciate that you respect my boundaries,” Akko whispered against her lips, massaging the back of Diana’s head, “except they’re a little farther back than where you thought they were.”

One by one, with the aid of Akko’s clear constant, the gears started clicking in Diana’s head. This is okay, she growled into her next kiss, stepping forward until Akko was against a wall, this is perfectly okay, she tilted her head, urgently meeting Akko’s opened lips. With a thrill, she felt her own tongue against Akko’s, and the sensation it gave was—overwhelming.

When she pulled back to breath, she was flushed and heaving. Akko wasn’t one to take a break, though. Her lips settled on Diana’s pulse, and the audible sigh she released only encouraged the brunette continue kissing, leaving a trail upwards, to her jaw, to cheek, to her earlobe.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you in my shirt, from that beach trip,” Diana shamelessly admitted.

“It might have been on purpose.”

“Atusko,” Diana warned. Her hands were trailing up Akko’s sides, bunching up the cloth of her uniform and sliding over smooth, bare skin.

With deceivingly large puppy dog eyes, Akko implored,

“Yes, babe?”

Of course, there was a limit to whatever boundaries were crossed that afternoon. And if one wanted to be precise, it took thirty-three days and four hours for Diana to finally make out with Akko.

It's 5:20AM. I am procrastinating Appointments Chapter 3. I must be awake in 4 hours. Are there any regrets? Nope.

Is Diana a dork? Absolutely.

#Diakko #Dianakko #Diana Cavendish #Akko Kagari #LWA #Fanfic #Hannah England #Barbara Parker #Fluff #ish?#idk #yuri #shoujo ai #Little Witch Academia

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garageradios-blog · 6 years

Text

Stuart/2D Surfer AU Character Page

Stuart Pot - Joined the band after it was formed by Murdoc and Russel, Vocalist

Basic information:

-2D is a generally happy young man, never really becomes too angry unless he feels like he has to

-He’s 23, lives with his parents or crashes at Murdoc’s or Russel’s place

-”2D” is more or of a stage name, his bandmates mostly call him Stu, but sometimes they’ll say 2D or Stu-D

-Murdoc and 2D don’t have a feud in this au. At least, not more than regular friends would have. They hang out and write and make music together, no abuse.

-He’s the closest with Noodle, in a sort of fatherly way. He’ll go shopping with her when she needs something and make sure she doesn’t go sketchy places alone

-Russel is the guy 2D goes to talk to if he’s upset or needs to get away from something, or share a beer with and talk about literally anything

-Stu works at a gas station

Backstory under cut

Backstory leading up to current:

Stuart was a pretty happy kid growing up, but he was also decently quiet and put most of his emotions into music. He grew up an only child with his parents, Rachel and David who were and are always supportive and loving to him.

When he was 5 years old, he went out on a boat with his father on a fishing trip and was swimming around until a shark came up and started chomping at him. The shark went away after a couple bites but Stu was still left with permanent scars, especially on his arms and legs but he’s got a few evident chunks taken out of him on his stomach and his thighs. He’s not ashamed of his scars and never has been.

During primary, kids at school would always assume he was a boy because he kept shorter hair and was given a boys uniform, despite the fact that he’s an assigned female at birth. Stu felt more comfortable in the uniform and never complained about the mess up, he loved it and it was one of the most life changing things he’s experienced in terms of being himself and loving himself.

Friends of David and Rachel would also assume that Stuart was their little boy and at first they’d correct them.

“Oh, actually she’s our little girl. But she really loves her comic shirts and short hair, she says skirts and long hair get in the way when she’s playing.” Rachel smiled politely, but received a rather nasty look in return.

“You let your girl wear boys clothes? I would never let my son wear a skirt no matter how much he begged.”

Rachel got the most grief out of Stu’s parents because “it’s a mother’s duty to raise her child the right way.” Rachel didn’t agree. Why would she raise her child in a way that made them unhappy?

Eventually they stopped correcting people and just said that Stu is their happy child and if someone says that they have a beautiful boy, they say their thanks and let it be. Stu never minded being called a boy.

Next on the timeline, Stu started learning guitar when he was 8 and then keyboard at 13. Guitar is more something he’ll play when he’s sad or depressed, but keyboard is the instrument he’s always spending time on learning cover after cover until eventually getting into songwriting, but it was all just hobbies.

Stu but has never been, for lack of better word, a female. He never felt comfortable being treated like one or ever considered himself a female, it was just natural to him to “act like a boy.” When he was 14, he came out to his parents as trans and that he wanted to be thought of as their son. Rachel and David were supportive and they hugged him, told them that they were proud of their beautiful child, and that they will do whatever he needs to be himself.

Deep down his parents knew Stu wasn’t a girly child and it wasn’t their place to decide who he can and can’t be. They started him on the T immediately.

Along those lines, Stu has a pretty open sexuality. He doesn’t label himself but if he were forced to, he’d probably have to go with pan simply because he doesn’t have a preference who he dates, more so how he’s treated. But being a transitioning female to male, it was hard getting finding a fully stable relationship when he was in school. He was in one relationship in high school with a boy but they separated after a little over a year because they graduated and the boy had plans to move away. After that, Stu’s only relationships were one night stands or dates that would only last a month, but that didn’t start until he was nineteen.

When Stuart was 16, he got in a car crash when he was out with two of his friends. Everyone came out okay, except Stu who came out with a fracture in one of his eyes from his face hitting on the door that sent him into a 2 week long coma. When he woke up from his coma, he was nursed back to health in a couple days but he was left with chronic headaches that would affect him the rest of his life.

Four months later he damaged his other eye while working with his dad at the fairgrounds while repairing a broken bumper cart. He got too close to a power drill and it kicked back into his eye and gave him a second fracture. His left eye is mostly black and red, but his right eye has a couple visible white spots. It took him a while to get used to the change in depth perception, but like his scars, he’s not ashamed of his trauma marks

Stu graduated high school with pretty good grades, but didn’t enroll in college and remained at his parents house and got a job to save up some money while considering what he might want to do for a living, but it wasn’t long before one night changed his life.

He was driving home after a long day at work and found a stranger passed out on the side of a very blank and empty road. Stu pulled over and found a man with a beer in his hands, laying unconscious yet still alive in the gravel beside the road. Here he had to contemplate: was this a man that needed help or was this a man that put himself in this situation? Either way, Stu didn’t believe that he should leave the man there so he quickly hurled the man into his car and took him back to his parents house to let him rest until morning.

The man didn’t wake up until the afternoon the next day. Stu found that the man’s name was Murdoc and that he went through a hell of a night but that he had his own place and a job and that he didn’t need help, but thanked Stu for his generosity. Before Murdoc left, Stu gave him a plate of leftover grilled chicken from the dinner he made, warm tea to soothe him, and a couple aspirin to make his head feel better. They talked a little about themselves and shared a couple likes and dislikes and then Stu drove Murdoc back home and Stu gave him his number and said to call or text if he needed a last resort. Murdoc gave him a last thanks and went back to his apartment. Murdoc contacted Stu a week later, but not because he needed to, but because he was bored and wanted to see if Stu wanted to hang out.

(see Murdoc’s page for their character progression and how Mudz got better)

Murdoc gave Stu the nickname of 2D after they started hanging out. Soon after Murdoc and Russel started to hang out, Stu was introduced to him, then a couple weeks later to Noodle when Murdoc mentioned that he was starting a band. He was fascinated with the idea of a band and when Murdoc asked if 2D knew of a vocalist, Stu said he wanted to give it a shot. He had some experience singing but never anything serious, now was his chance to do something with his talent.

They met up one day to try working something together, Stu very nervous to sing a song that he didn’t write himself but he was determined to do his best. He was a bit shocked after he sang when everyone was staring at him. Fear filled him but when he was instantly given praise for his singing, he smiled and thanked them with tears in his eyes. This was the beginning of Gorillaz.

#stuart pot #2d #gorillaz #surf starchie #character page #moss #important

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letitrainathousandflames-archive · 6 years

Text

I can’t keep my mouth shut when i’m happy about something so here goes nothing: these are the first 4 pages of the legendary Spongebinks fic

I changed my narrative style a bit because it’s the very first fucking time i write a crack fic have fun now this is a wild fuckin ride

To say that Jar Jar Binks was a strange creature would be an understatement. The Gungan wasn’t amongst the best of his kind. Nor was he amongst the average ones. Truth be told, he was most likely one of the dumbest ones, if not the dumbest of them. His carelessness and adamant desire to help made him a creature with more destructive power than an entire platoon of clone troopers. The Republic should really thank the universe for having him on their side.

Jar Jar was however a military commander, a politician representing his people, and he even had a seat at the Galactic’s senate, because life is just that funny, and if the leader of the Jedi Council can be a tiny, wrinkly green alien that speaks half-backwards sentences, why in the moons wouldn’t that gungan be able to represent his people as Senator Organa did the Alderaanians and Senator Amidala did the Nabooans?

It’s a rhetorical question and you shouldn’t answer it.

Anyway, this particularly destructive gungan with an outstanding ability to put his foot in his mouth both literally and figuratively is an important figure to be highly regarded and in quite a few levels feared. He was on his way along with Y-33T, an astromech that General Skywalker – Senator Amidala’s dear friend – had given to Jar Jar in an act of kindness (truth be told, the thing was showing a lot of malfunctions, but Skywalker couldn’t bear to just throw a droid away, despite the astromech’s nickname being YEET).

On his way where? Well, to spend some nice vacations back in his home of Otoh Gunga, much to his fellow gungans’ uneasiness. However, Binks was a public figure now and he had helped their people by forging their alliance with the then queen - now Senator Padmé Amidala and gathering their army to fight off the Trade Federation advances into their shared homeworld; Boss Nass, the gungan leader, demanded a proper welcome to him on the main halls, and stars, the gungans worked to make it perfect.

Now imagine a beautiful gathering; they had even brought beautiful dried flowers from the surface and scattered them all over, making the whole floor colorful; there were dancers and flags and numbers of acrobatics and even jugglers spinning and tossing sticks with fire on both ends. Imagine Jar Jar waking in the main doors to see all that with a big smile on his amphibian face. Imagine him getting worried about a particular dancer doing backflips and racing towards her to stop her so she wouldn’t get hurt but tripping on his own feet on the way and inadvertently pushing a fire juggler, whose fire stick dropped right next to a dancer’s long skirt. Until the dancer noticed the fire and got to stop, drop and roll - all the while letting out deafening screams - the fire had already caught on the beautiful dried up flowers nearby and was spreading rapidly.

Here’s the thing about gungans – they’re amphibians. Creatures made to survive both underwater and above it, but not in the least made to survive being involuntarily placed on what looked like a barbecue where the main dish was them. People were jumping on top of chairs and tables, but those soon started to burn too. Boss Nass was facepalming on his seat while the staff rushed to activate all the valves to let the water spray from the lake above through the sprinklers on the ceiling.

Fifteen minutes of screaming, fire, children crying and “meesa so sorry!”, everyone was drenched in water and rather pissed at Jar Jar Binks. Which wasn’t anything new at all. Boss Nass just awkwardly clapped with a crooked smile.

“Uh… Thank yousa all for the beautiful performance. Weesa very honored to have representative Binks back with us, right?”

The answer was made of some very sparse clapping punctuated by a gungan juggler sobbing. Boss Nass just scratched the back of his head and signed for his staffers to start cleaning that mess.

“Jar Jar!” he smiled, clearly trying not to think about the whole almost-tragedy “Meesa has important things to discuss with yousa!”

Jar Jar kicked some water off his pants, eyeing the gungan leader curiously as he walked towards him.

“Important things? What things, sir?”

“Ah-n-not today!” Boss Nass exclaimed; he didn’t think he could possibly survive another near catastrophe so soon “Don’t yousa want to rest, hmm? Yousa go home, and tomorrow, we have serious talk.”

Jar Jar cocked his head to the side.

“But meesa just got her—“

“Tomorrow then!” Boss Nass said louder now with a wide smile and an emphatic nod, waving goodbye “Yousa have a good one, eh?”

Kings are not expected to be able to retreat so quickly, but it was like Jar Jar had blinked and the gungan leader was gone. Well then, Jar Jar thought to himself with a shrug, tomorrow it would be, then.

About four smaller incidents later, one of them involving a leak that could potentially inundate the whole city, Jar Jar managed to be back in his home, picking up his suitcase from the gungan that had been sent to help him (who absolutely did not bother waiting for a tip before dashing away from the walking disaster of a gungan).

Jar Jar would sleep on the top floor, but the whole building was his – and it had been quite cheap, too. Jar Jar had thought it had been the salespeople’s kindness to make it so cheap for him but the fact was that actually the price of any place where he lived would immediately drop… no crash down would be the more appropriate word.

Jar Jar looked around with a feeling of nostalgia, and he let Y-33T enter the spacious living room.

“Meesa glad yousa here with meesa, Yeet!”

Y-33T made a chirping robot noise and Jar Jar’s ears twitched.

“Whaddya mean, yousa only did it because Ani told yousa to?” Y-33T made another noise, and Jar Jar beamed all giddy “Ah, ‘cause yousa both meesa and Ani’s friend, eh?”

Y-33T waved its head in what was a clear “no”, but Jar Jar didn’t notice it. Instead, he sat by the window, looking to the underwater landscape and sighing.

“Meesa so ecxited for vacations; it’s been a long long time since meesa’s been back home. And this time, meesa here with a new friend!”

Y-33T just gave up on correcting the gungan, and Jar Jar watched the dark waters outside. The beautiful plants that would grow underwater would move very gently, and an occasional fish would swim around there with their scales shimmering with each movement. Jar Jar sat on a chair, still mesmerized with the waters outside.

“Meesa have many friends, Yeet.” He said pointedly to the astromech “But meesa wanted to have something else too… Something different. Meesa wanted to have someone to love.”

Y-33T rolled closer, whistling softly, and Jar Jar nodded dreamily.

“Yousa right, it woulda be hard to find someone.”

Y-33T peeped.

“Yes, meesa woulda have to look for a long time,” and Y-33T peeped again and Jar Jar nodded “Meesa would have to look for a veeeeery long time.”

***

On the following day, Jar Jar was supposed to a meeting with the Boss Nass very early in the morning. He had been very excited about it the previous night, so excited that he couldn’t fall asleep until it was almost time for him to be actually getting up; he was snoring loudly with one of his large ears draped over his eyes, so he couldn’t even see the clarity filtered through the water by now. His snoring sounded almost like an angry wookie, which just added to why nobody wanted to live in that building.

So there he was, blissfully asleep when Y-33T rolled up very close to his head and started playing a very loud recording of Anakin’s Skywalker complaining as he tried to fix the astromech:

“--this is an absolute DISASTER, ONLY AN IDIOT WOULD KEEP THIS THING AROUND—AN IDIOT- IDIOT-IDIOT—“

Jar Jar jumped up on the bed, ripping the ear from over his eyes:

“Who’s calling meesa?!” he looked down at Y-33T, blinking lazily “Ah.”

“IDIOT- IDIOT- DISASTER-“ Y-33T stopped playing it when Jar Jar pressed a button in front of it, turning the alarm off

“Meesa sleepy.” Jar Jar yawned, plopping back down on the bed and rolling to his side, shutting his eyes “Five more minutes won’t make meesa late.”

He was snoring again in less than thirty seconds, and Y-33T chirped joyfully, sliding a port open from where a stick charged with electricity came out. His target was too easy too. The gungan was lying on his side, his buttocks just impossible to miss. Even the sea turtles swimming on the other side of the glass must’ve heard his scream as he got zapped.

“YOWSA!!”

That woke him up. When Jar Jar actually noticed what time it was by then, he rushed to get his breakfast, which in fact meant walking out of the pressurized doors (they were automatic and one would only open after the other was closed and the space between them, drained; If Jar Jar would be the one to make the process, the whole place would be a coral reef by now), he would grab a fish with a size reasonable with his appetite and would just devour the whole thing before the door would even finish draining for him to come back inside.

Doesn’t it just make you wish that this process would never ever be described again? Too bad it’ll happen another 18 times before this story is through. Such is the burden of those who can read.

Anyway, Jar Jar just put on whatever clothes he had managed not to rip or choke himself with while trying to get dressed and dashed out with Y-33T rolling fast by his side.

YES HE HAS AN ASTROMECH NAMED YEET, I KNOW RIGHT??? THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY I NEVER HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING FIC THANK U SO MUCH Y’ALL WHO CONTRIBUTED AND COMMISSIONED THIS STEAMING PILE OF WHAT THE FUCK

#spongebinks

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hazellvesque · 6 years

Text

Some Kind of Miracle - Chapter 3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: G

Pairing: Adrien/Marinette

Summary: If Marinette had her way, she would have had nothing to do with Alya’s latest celebrity crush. So how did she get roped into stalking him around Los Angeles? When fashion icon Adrien Agreste quite literally crashes into Marinette’s life, they have no choice but to put up with one another or risk ruining both of their potential careers forever.

An AU based on the iconic Disney Channel Original Movie, Starstruck.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 3 - Incredible

<<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>>

Marinette’s right hand was sore. Grey graphite smudged the entire length from her pinky to her wrist, but the result was all worth it. Fifteen pages of new menswear ideas were detailed on the pages in front of her.

She had spent majority of the flight – aside from meal and bathroom breaks – furiously sketching in her notebook. She’d been so concentrated on the steady flow of ideas streaming from her brain onto the paper in front of her that she almost didn’t hear the pilot’s landing announcement.

Alya roused next to her, having entered her third nap of the trip about an hour prior. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and stared out the window, grinning maniacally.

“We’re here!” she mouthed, making no effort to hide the pure joy on her face.

Marinette took a quick peek past her friend to look out the window, immediately regretting the sinking feeling in her stomach that resulted. They were still so high up in the air that even looking out for a fraction of a second gave her intense vertigo. She was glad she hadn’t been assigned the window seat.

All around the aircraft, people were bouncing their legs, fidgeting with magazines, or trying to stealthily reach for their bags early. Normally Marinette would have been just as irritable as everyone else, but she had had a welcome distraction for the past twelve hours.

“Is that who I think it is?” Alya half-whispered, taking a glance at Marinette’s drawings before she could stow her book away.

Marinette could feel the blush rising to her cheeks as she realized – it was exactly who Alya thought it was. Every single clothing sketch had been accompanied with a mop of blonde hair and huge, curious eyes wearing it. She’d drawn Adrien Agreste’s face in almost as much detail as the outfits, over and over again.

“He’s a model,” Marinette squeaked. “I needed something to work off of. And since you wouldn’t stop talking about him all morning-“

“Someone’s in denial,” Alya smirked. “He’s gorgeous and you know it. You’ll come to your senses eventually.”

The pilot came over the intercom once more, sounding sterner than the last time as he reminded passengers to store all personal items away for landing. Marinette sheepishly tucked her sketchbook away as other passengers reluctantly stored their belongings as well.

Two rows up, a flight attendant was having an altercation with a passenger. She and the teenage girl bickered back and forth at each other.

“Miss, all phones need to be powered down completely for our landing,” she gently tried to explain, but the girl was having none of it.

“I need to make sure my driver is going to be there when we land,” the teen insisted. “I am not going to be late getting to my destination.”

“The plan can’t land at all if our safety is compromised from your cell phone signal,” the flight attendant said with finality before walking to the back of the plane and taking her seat.

The blonde girl across the aisle looked oddly familiar, and not just because she was attached to her phone the same way Alya had been all day. Maybe Marinette had seen her around school somewhere? Regardless, she finally decided her conversation was less important than the lives of the hundred or so fellow passengers surrounding her, so she powered her phone down and tossed it aside, grumbling under her breath the entire time.

“I don’t blame her,” Alya whispered. “My fingers have been itching to check my blog, it’s been driving me crazy.”

The remaining twenty minutes of the flight passed without incident aside from slight turbulence. Disembarking the aircraft and heading towards the exit were equally as mundane.

Marlena Césaire walked ahead of the girls as they left the building, her carry-on bag trailing behind her. She stood at the curb and waved frantically in an attempt to hail a cab. Marinette and Alya, on the other hand, were too busy gaping at the scenery to do anything productive.

There were real live palm trees. Actually growing from the ground, not in a pot. And they were massive; at least over a dozen meters tall. Taxis and personal cars alike swerved wildly in and out of traffic, picking up travelers and making their way down the long stretch of motorway ahead. In the distance, the giant LAX sign was bright white in the sunlight. More incoming and outgoing flights passes precariously close over their heads. And the people: men and women in business suits, families with children wearing mouse ears, and travelers of all ages looking much less lost than they did.

Marinette didn’t see the blonde girl from the plane, again. She guessed her driver made it on time after all.

And judging by the man who had just walked up behind them with a sign, asking if they were the Césaire party, apparently their driver had made it too.

“Oh,” Marlena was taken aback. “We didn’t order a car.”

“You are here for Ms. Sancouer’s events this week, correct?” The man asked.

Marlena nodded slowly, looking absolutely dumbfounded.

“As part of her payment, she has gifted you service to your hotel,” the man smiled and gestured to his left. A sleek black car was pulled off to the side of the road with its doors wide open, waiting for them.

This Sancouer woman had apparently thought of everything, even so far as to hire a driver who spoke French. Props to her, Marinette thought.

Alya shrugged – as if to say ‘this may as well be happening’ – and hopped into the backseat of the car, with her mother and Marinette following close behind. The man walked the perimeter of the car, closing each door as he went, before getting behind the wheel and entering the traffic of the city.

And then they were off. And this city was massive.

There were too many things to see all at once. Marinette had complete sensory overload, trying to take in the sights and sounds and smells of Los Angeles.

The beaches had been one of the things she was looking forward to most. Only she hadn’t expected to see so many sandy shores right off of nearly every street they sped down. Seeing the ocean from the ground was even more surreal than flying above it, not to mention much less terrifying. The blue water sparkled in the morning sun and stretched out as far as the girls could see from their tinted car windows and beyond.

Before they knew it, they were pulling up to the front doors of their hotel. Alya bolted out of the backseat and through the hotel’s massive glass doors, her phone camera snapping furiously.

Marlena glanced back at Marinette from the front seat. “Go,” she said. “Explore, have fun. You have your key, right?”

Mme. Césaire’s clients had conveniently already checked them in as well, so their driver had their keys ready as soon as they arrived. Marinette nodded and patted the front pocket of her bag where she’d tucked the key earlier before running in after her friend.

She stepped inside and was immediately taken aback. The hotel was beautiful – far more extravagant that she had expected it to be. The soaring ceilings were covered in incredibly detailed murals. The furniture consisted entirely of sturdy dark wood and marble pieces accented with what was most likely real gold. The crystalline chandelier hanging in the center of the room probably cost more than Marinette’s entire house.

Whoever had hired Mme. Césaire and paid for this trip must have been swimming in extra cash.

By the time she caught up to Alya, the other girl had worked her way through the hotel lobby and into the gift shop, where she held half a dozen different very expensive looking candy bars.

“Do you know what any of these things are?” Alya seemed absolutely giddy. “I’ve never heard of any of these brands before!”

The store clerk stared at Alya, looking mildly terrified. Now that Marinette thought about it, she realized that most of the people here probably couldn’t understand a word Alya was saying.

Marinette could only imagine what everyone in the lobby was thinking about this teenage girl staring at the walls, taking photos of the lamps, and screaming French exclamations at the top of her lungs.

The endless foreign babble didn’t end for hours, even after they’d settled into their suite.

Their room was just as unnecessarily lavish as the rest of the hotel. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a full kitchen and dining area were just the beginning. The television had over three hundred channels and a full gaming system set up. Mme. Césaire’s room had a bottle of expensive-looking wine and a welcome note sitting on the side table. Marinette and Alya were each given their own fruit baskets.

The bags they’d checked on the flight, which had been picked up from the airport for them, sat waiting for them inside as well. They’d even paid attention to the luggage tags, Marinette noted while tilting her head to get a better look at the inside, as all of her belongings were seated at the foot of the right bed, and Alya’s at the left.

The three women had stood gaping in the doorway for what felt like ages.

Marlena cleared her throat. “The woman that hired me is vey generous,” she said weakly.

“No kidding,” Alya was the first to enter the room, where she and her phone camera went to work, documenting every last inch of luxury.

Marinette stepped inside next, feeling completely overwhelmed. Her fingers itched to take out her sketchbook again. There was so much to take in. The surrounding colors and shapes and patterns jumped around in her head, begging to be eternalized in a sketch.

Their driver stood politely outside of the door, allowing the girls enough time to get used to their new environment before interrupting once more.

“Mme. Césaire,” he began, “when you are ready, I will escort you to your venue to begin preparing for tonight, if you would like.”

Marinette could practically see the word ‘trouble’ flashing behind Alya’s eyes. No doubt, the other girl was already scheming about what she’d do once she was out of her mother’s watchful eye.

If Marlena suspected anything, it didn’t show on her face. There was no hesitation as she began collecting her things and preparing to leave. Alya was practically shaking in excitement.

Marinette hoped her disapproving look was enough to silently communicate to Alya that she very much did not approve of her scheming. She had been awake for far too long today. She wanted to unpack, and take a nap, and watch American dramas on television that she didn’t understand. She wanted to relax.

Alya Césaire and “relax” didn’t even belong in the same sentence, as far as she was concerned. Especially not here in the Golden State. Alya had a mission and she was determined to set it in motion.

Once Alya’s mom and the driver had left for the night, Marinette asked, “You’re going to look for Adrien, aren’t you?” Though she already knew the answer.

“Of course,” Alya winked at her. “And you’re coming with me.”

Chloe Bourgeois arrived at the Agreste house precisely when she said she would.

Her chauffer had given Adrien an apologetic look as he dropped Chloe’s bags off in the upstairs guest room. He only dealt with the girl once or twice a year, but he knew what a terror she could be. Lucky for him, he only had to drive her around. Adrien had to be the one to keep her entertained.

And out of the press, he reminded himself.

It was going to be a very difficult task, seeing as she nearly tackled him to the ground in greeting on his front lawn, in full view of the entire block.

“Finally!” she cried, planting a kiss on each of his cheeks. “I felt like I was going to drive myself crazy waiting to see you!”

Adrien firmly placed his hands on her shoulders and held her just out of reach. “Listen,” he started, “I’m happy to see you too, but you can’t do that. Not out here.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

Adrien turned back and forth, checking his surroundings. Thankfully, he didn’t see a flash go off or any bushes rustling in the distance.

“I told you, most people here aren’t that…affectionate with their friends. Someone might see you do that and get the wrong idea. Come on.” He kept one hand on her shoulder, loosening his grip so that he felt friendlier and less forceful. They walked together through the house to the main lounge room.

“What kind of wrong idea?” Chloe asked, plopping down in the seat behind her.

Adrien had to hold back a groan. “People might think we’re dating.”

“Is that so bad?” At Adrien’s exasperated look, she rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding. I’ll stop, I’m sorry. I’m just really happy to see you.”

“I know,” Adrien said. He took the time to hug her properly before standing back up and offering to get her something to drink.

By the time he’d returned from the kitchen with two glasses of water, Chloe was practically bouncing out of her seat from excitement.

“So what’s our itinerary for the week?” Chloe asked. “Last time we talked you had said something about a bonfire on the beach. Or a music festival. Or a music festival on the beach with a bonfire.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, um…”

“Oh, I hear that there’s still some fireworks left over from this place’s Independence Day and they’re going to set them off tomorrow night, can we go see them?”

“Nathalie’s hosting a cocktail party here tonight,” Adrien said quickly. “How about we go to that first, then decide what to do later?”

Chloe shot him a disappointing look. Adrien had a notoriously bad poker face.

“You can get all dressed up,” he continued. “And she’s getting some really fancy food catered. There’ll be lots of big-shot Hollywood types here to talk about business and-“

“You should have started with that,” Chloe interrupted. “You know I’m a sucker for a stuffy middle-aged guy talking business. Look, I’m already swooning.”

Adrien knew he was being a bad friend. First, he’d forgotten all about her arrival, then he was already making excuses for the next few days about why she couldn’t enjoy her time here with him. The guilt was almost enough to make him forget all about his promise and let Chloe have her fun.

Almost.

He took her hands in hers and got very serious. “Listen, Nathalie wants me to stay out of trouble. I’ve got a huge opportunity coming up that rides on me being on my best behavior. Just promise me one hour? Two, tops. Just enough for me to make a good impression with everyone coming. And after that, I promise we can do something you want.”

She didn’t quite look convinced. She pulled her hands away and crossed them over her chest, sticking her nose in the air stubbornly. Adrien decided to try one last thing.

“Nino will be here tonight too. You wouldn’t miss an opportunity to insult his fashion sense, would you?”

Despite trying her best to stay stoic, Chloe smiled. “I do enjoy seeing that look on his face when I tell him his hats out of date. Fine. Two hours of your posh little party. Only because I’m such a nice person.”

And this was why Chloe Bourgeois was still his friend. For one, she would always come around and make sacrifices for him when he needed her to. And two, she couldn’t resist a chance to schmooze with socialites for a night.

Perhaps this little visit of hers wouldn’t be so bad.

“Even the wall outlets are weird here!” Alya shouted from inside the bathroom, where she had been straightening her hair for the past hour.

Marinette could still hear her camera’s flash snapping every couple of minutes.

“Don’t tell me you’re taking selfies with the electrical wiring,” she called back.

Marinette had just finished emptying her last suitcase. All of her clothes were stored away in the drawers and closets that they’d live in for the next two weeks. Only the essentials – her cellphone, her keys, and of course, her sketchbook – were packed away in a small backpack that she could also squeeze a few snacks from the fruit basket into if she decided to venture off and needed fuel.

She sat back on the plush bed, feeling extremely satisfied with herself. The sun had set a little over an hour ago and she felt absolutely exhausted. She could fall asleep sitting up if she tried.

As soon as she saw Alya emerge from the bathroom dressed to the nines, however, she had a good feeling that she wouldn’t be sleeping much at all.

“Why are you wearing that?” Marinette asked, dreading the answer.

“I told you, we’re going out!” Alya said, as if it were obvious. “The sooner we start looking, the more ground we’ll cover. Come on, get dressed!”

“Your mom said not to get in trouble,” said Marinette. That outfit definitely looked like trouble.

Not only was Marlena Césaire gone for the night, but her schedule was practically booked up this entire trip, and that left the girls far too much unsupervised time to get into mischief. She had made them promise to follow a few rules on their vacation: stick together, spend money carefully, and don’t do anything that will land you in a cell. Oh, and don’t forget to have fun!

Clearly Alya was disregarding the three former statements for the latter.

“We won’t,” said Alya. “Everything I plan on doing tonight is completely legal in this country. Now come on!”

Alya practically dragged Marinette from under the covers and into the bathroom, painting her face in a flurry of cosmetics and colors without so much as asking whether or not Marinette even wanted to go anywhere. She guessed this was Alya’s way of following rule number one: they couldn’t stick together if she didn’t pull Marinette along for her joyrides around LA.

At least Marinette had a say in what she got to wear; she chose a sensible pair of white jeans and flats, so she wouldn’t end up like Alya who would most likely be shoe-less and complaining about how much her heels hurt by the end of the night.

Marinette barely had time to grab her backpack before Alya dragged her from the room, shouting giddily the entire time about what Adrien’s eyes would look like in person.

It took them fifteen minutes to figure out how to hail a cab. Another twelve minutes, and they had pulled up to a building with far too many neon lights and what looked like nearly a hundred rowdy teenagers standing outside of it’s doors.

Marinette’s face paled. “Alya, where are we?”

“Calm down,” Alya said. “There’s a concert going on inside in an hour.” She opened her phone and started reading from her extensive list of notes. This place looked like the first on an incredibly long list of possible locations she was looking to scout. “Adrien’s been seen here attending shows seven times in the past year, plus, he’s been spotted hanging out with the lead singer of one of the bands that’s on the schedule tonight.”

After scanning just a dozen faces in the crowd, Marinette already felt pretty hopeless. “And you’re sure you’re going to find him here?”

“He’ll be wherever the most camera flashes are going off, most likely,” Alya said. After seeing Marinette’s doubtful face, she added, “And think of it this way: if we don’t find him, we can still enjoy the concert.”

Alya pulled two bluish slips of paper from her bag and handed one to Marinette. Judging by the dates on the tickets, Alya had purchased these far in advance. She really had every step of this trip planned out.

When they exited the cab, Marinette took Alya’s hand as a security precaution. Alya ducked and weaved through the crowd like a pro, leaving Marinette to wonder where she’d learned to be so confident. They pushed their way to the front of the red-roped area, gotten their hands stamped by the doorman, and rushed inside with the rest of the concertgoers.

The first act of the night had just begun their sound check. Endless snacks and drinks flowed at a bar area to the far right of the venue. The massive space filled immediately with eager teens and young adults ready to dance the night away and sing along until their voices were long lost.

The clock on the wall read 10:00pm, and the party was just getting started.

“Adrien, I’m bored,” Chloe whined.

Honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. A cocktail party full of adults standing in circles with wine glasses humble-bragging about their lives wasn’t exactly the place that three teenagers wanted to be on a Friday night.

At least Nino was entertaining himself with the chocolate fountain.

Adrien was on full alert, making sure to remain on his best possible behavior. Some might call it paranoid, especially since the security team had made sure that no paparazzi or unauthorized guests were within a thousand feet of the house, but Adrien was still on edge. There was no telling who here may have loose lips and let something slip from tonight. So he had to make sure there was nothing to slip.

“It’s been more than two hours,” Chloe reminded him. “I kept my promise, it’s time for you to keep yours.”

There goes the guilt again. It reared its ugly head time and time again throughout the night as Adrien watched his friends work to fight off their boredom. They were itching to do something – anything – more exciting than this, and honestly, so was he.

Nino walked up behind them, the tiniest bit of chocolate still smeared on the corner of his mouth.

“So we’ve conquered the hors d’oeuvres and listened to some snazzy piano music. What’s next on our agenda, kids?”

“Oh, I’ve got a good one!” Chloe said. “Let’s leave.”

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in your entire life,” Nino said. He turned to Adrien. “I hate to admit it, but she’s right. I can only eat finger foods for so long. We can have one night out without you getting in trouble. You’re not under house arrest, dude, you’re allowed to leave.”

It was easy for him to say. Sure, there was no official order or locked door keeping him in, but he still felt the weight of his reputation pulling him back behind closed doors at all times.

Both Chloe and Nino pleaded with puppy dog eyes. Damn them. Alone, one of them could be convincing, but when they teamed up against him, it was impossible to say no.

Then again, glancing around the backyard, it seemed that no one was really paying any mind to the teens. Maybe they’d be able to get away for a little while without anyone noticing.

“Fine,” Adrien said. Nino opened his mouth to let out a cheer, and Adrien immediately muffled it with his hand. “But be subtle.”

“I’ll get my keys!” Nino ditched his paper plate in a nearby trash bin and took off into the house with Chloe hot on his trail.

Adrien was stealthier about his exit. He trailed his way down the dessert table, pretending to be deliberating between options. He took one last paranoid glance over his shoulder and realized that his acting chops could rest for the time being. No one was paying him any attention whatsoever.

Freedom. Nino pulled up his car and Chloe plugged coordinates into the GPS by the time Adrien had made it out of the front door.

Luckily, when they pulled up to the club half an hour later, the second band’s set was just starting, leaving everyone in the venue too distracted to notice their entrance. Chloe made a beeline for the V.I.P. lounge upstairs and wasted no time ordering the most sugary, caloric drink on the menu.

Nino settled into a couch in the far back corner. He closed his eyes and swayed to the music, looking and feeling like he was in heaven. Places like this were his natural habitat.

Adrien, however, couldn’t help but notice the sinking feeling in his stomach that appeared the moment he stepped out of Nino’s car. There were so many cellphones. So many potential fans who could notice him and stop him at any moment. So many things could go wrong. He picked up his pace, taking the stairs two at a time and keeping his head ducked down until he was sure no one could be following him.

Two more weeks of this. No problem at all. He’d let Chloe and Nino have their fun for a bit, then they’d duck out before the crowds got too thin. With how the party had been going back at home, no one would even notice he was gone.

A smile crept to his face. Nathalie’s reaction to this would be priceless. There might be actual smoke coming out of her ears. That alone would be worth it.

And yet, he still couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched.

Chloe dropped down next to Adrien on the small couch, practically sitting in his lap, taking extra care not to spill her drink. The doorman hadn’t stopped to stamp their hands, Adrien noticed.

Chloe was thinking the same thing, apparently. “Don’t worry, it’s just juice and soda,” she said. “Americans and their silly drinking laws. I’m not going to get you in trouble. Here, take a sip.”

Not that he had much of a choice – Chloe practically shoved the straw into his mouth. The blue slush concoction was way too sweet and gave him brain freeze. He didn’t want to think about how much sugar was in even one sip of it.

His dietician was going to kill him. It was wonderful.

“Dance with me,” he said to Chloe.

“Now?” she had just enough time to put her drink down before Adrien grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Why not?” The rest of the V.I.P. lounge was empty aside from the bouncer, the band downstairs was playing some ridiculous rock song, and the Adrien who had scaled his rooftops for fun had returned ready to have some fun.

He spun wildly in circles, taking advantage of all the extra space around them. He was completely off beat and he was bound to trip over his super squeaky dress shoes, but for just a moment, he didn’t care.

The three of them radiated pure joy. Why wouldn’t they? They were living the teenage dream – sneaking out late at night, hyped up on sugar, adrenaline, and the company of amazing friends.

Swaying along to an album’s worth of rock ballads and downing slushies all night - it didn’t get much better than this.

Moments like this made the stress melt away. He’d sit through a million photo shoots, try out dozens of ridiculous diets, and sit in stuffy vehicles for hours if it meant he got to let loose and have the time of his life with his best friends at the end of it all.

Once he got out of LA, this could be his life every day.

Of course, leaving LA would mean there would be a lot less days like this one, with Nino and Chloe by his side. It would probably mean a lot less clubs like this one, which he’d grown to love over the years. He’d likely have to move somewhere with a lot less beaches; somewhere where the sunsets weren’t nearly as breathtaking.

Plus, he couldn’t get away at all if he screwed up tonight and did something reckless. One misstep and he could kiss that dream goodbye.

Adrien immediately felt very dizzy, though he and Chloe had stopped spinning long ago.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You have this weird look in your eye. Here, sit down.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. Chloe led him back to his seat and helped him down gently. He made a point to lean back and shut his eyes, thinking only the happiest thoughts and hoping that it showed on his face. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

And then a flash went off behind Adrien’s head.

Adrien’s seemingly cool smile turned panicked in an instant. It might have been an accident, or maybe someone was taking a photo of something else, or maybe a light bulb blew out. Honestly it could have been anything. But the paranoia had been running too high for too long.

His guilty conscience was back in full control now. Goodbye Rebel Adrien, hello Anxious Adrien.

“Come on, let’s go,” Adrien was glad that Nino had said it so he didn’t have to. “We’ve been here long enough. You look miserable, dude.”

Chloe didn’t hesitate to agree. Her feel-good vibes were lost as soon as she’d seen his face. At this point, they had had their fun for the night. The sooner they got Adrien back home, the better.

“Can you pull around back?” Adrien asked quietly. “I don’t want to be seen.”

“We’ll meet you in ten,” Nino said, fishing his keys from his back pocket. “The usual spot, okay?”

He didn’t know what he’d do without Nino. Leaving him was going to be one of the hardest decisions Adrien would ever have to make. He’d have to work extra hard to remember today. It might be one of the last nights they’d have like this.

He watched Nino and Chloe disappear down the front steps before making his way down the back stairwell. It was time to face reality once more.

Marinette wanted out now.

The heat was absolutely stifling inside the club. The third band of the night was in the middle of their set, the bass booming loud enough to shake the floors. Somewhere in the midst of dancing bodies, Alya was probably having the time of her life. Marinette wouldn’t know, since she’d been pushed far into one of the back walls and trapped, unable to make her way back to the front of the stage where she’d lost her friend. She could barely move an inch without getting her feet stepped on or her bag snagged on someone’s jewelry.

So far the Adrien hunt had been a total bust, and Marinette honestly couldn’t tell if Alya cared or not. When they first walked in, Alya had been balancing on her toes, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of blonde hair and making a beeline towards anyone who even mildly resembled the model from the back. Her cellphone had stayed tight in her grip, ready to record anything and everything she may see that was blog worthy.

Then the band onstage played a song she remembered. And a boy at the juice bar had offered to buy her some colorful concoction (“It’s not alcoholic, I promise,” the bartender had said as he slid it over). In no time she blended right in with the local girls who were just so ready to let loose and have some fun. It was like she had gotten so swept up in the night that she had forgotten all about her mission.

Marinette wished she could forget about everything right now. The too-loud music, the sickly sweet smell in the air, the pure frustration she felt after essentially getting left alone in a corner in a strange country surrounded by what could have been very dangerous people.

She needed some air. She silently promised herself she’d only be gone for a second. No way she was leaving her best friend to fend for herself in a place like this.

Attempting to escape to the women’s bathroom was an absolute bust – it was full of girls reapplying makeup and spraying obnoxious amounts of perfume into the air, clouding everyone’s senses with the scent of cherry blossoms.

The upstairs lounge area was no better. Dozens of chairs and couches sat in semicircle formations, all crowded with boys who were guzzling down bar snacks and yelling at an American football game on a nearby television.

There was no chance of her passing off as a celebrity to sneak into the quieter V.I.P. section, either.

Slowly but surely, Marinette wiggled her way to the front of the venue and back out through the doors they’d entered an hour prior. Even outside hadn’t offered enough peace, as large groups gathered on the sidewalks to smoke and discuss their other plans for the rest of the night.

Holding her breath, she put her head down and tried to seem confident as she walked away as quickly as possible. There was no need to draw attention to herself, especially not by sending herself into a coughing fit.

Part of her wanted to try getting another taxi and heading back to the hotel on her own. Alya had done it the first time, it couldn’t be too hard, right?

Of course, she and Alya were supposed to stay together, and leaving Alya inside a club while she got a ride to somewhere miles away was definitely not one of the rules she’d promised to abide by.

After another minute, Marinette slowed to a stop, feeling like she was far away enough to finally breathe. The booming bass was still audible, but just barely. She glanced up and blinked in confusion. The neon lights of the club’s sign were nowhere to be seen. Had she really gotten turned around that easily? She couldn’t have walked far.

Great, she thought.

She could feel her eyes start to well up with frustrated tears. Why had she even let herself get talked into doing this? She could have had a nice two weeks, lounging on beaches and drawing in her book, but instead, she was here. Lost in an alleyway with no idea how to get back to her friend. Her friend who could have gotten in all sorts of danger while she was alone in there.

She was too busy letting her anxieties get the best of her to notice the door to her left, much less react quickly enough when it swung open violently, landing a direct hit to her face and turning her entire world to black.

#ml fic #miraculous ladybug #Adrienette #adrinette #my writing #in case it wasn't obvious i'm NOT working on nanowrimo even though i CLEARLY should be #i wrote 10k words for this fic in less than three days what the hell #some kind of miracle

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princessdevy03 · 7 years

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Author’s Note: Life does indeed have many open doors, but you should always be polite like Opportunity and knock on them first.

For @anybodihearme….

Get a damn lock, girl!

KnockEdd

“Hey.”

Edd turned away from the sink towards the voice that called out to him but kept stirring the KoolAid he was making.

“Hey, yourself. How’d it go?” He asked as he turned back around to tap the wooden spoon on the edge of the container and grab the lid.

“Ugh,” Kevin groaned as he came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around him. “I hate statistics.”

Edd gently patted his hand in empathy and to get Kevin to move so he could put the pitcher of the sweet drink in the fridge to chill before dinner.

“I’m making tacos,” he said as he started to pull the ingredients out he’d need for their Mexican spread.

“Awesome,” Kevin groaned before pushing himself off the kitchen table and going upstairs to his room.

One by one, their roommates started to trickle into the house about thirty minutes after Edd started dinner; first, Ed and then Nazz, who actually helped him, followed by Sarah and Eddy, who both stayed out of the way, but still contributed to the conversation.

When Kevin came back downstairs just as Ed was lining up Nazz’s expertly chopped veggies, it was almost as if the air was sucked out of the room, but the redhead was too tired to care and the ravenette was too busy to notice.

All Ed knew was that Edd was tense and Kevin was tired. He was sure he was going to get an earful from his best friend soon, but all he really wanted was to get through dinner first.

Dinner went normally, the clean up was quick with Kevin shooing everyone but Ed out of the kitchen.

“You get the notes for Campbell's class?” Kevin asked Ed as he wiped down the table.

“Yeah, and I got you the attendance code for the day. Where were you man?” Ed asked as he pulled out his phone to jot down the code Kevin would need to sign in for their 9AM class that morning and be counted as present on Post It note Edd had pulled out of his back pocket.

“Sleep,” Edd snorted and Kevin rolled his eyes as Ed shook his head.

“I did all my shit on Google today so I’ll just email it to you,” Ed said before skipping to the freezer for a pint of his favorite ice cream, doing his own happy dance to the silverware drawer for a spoon, then continuing to dance right out of the kitchen.

Kevin and Edd shared a chuckle as they watched him carry on, but then a serious look crossed Kevin’s face and Edd groaned.

“Let’s go,” Kevin sighed as he pushed him up the stairs and to the growing pile of homework that was getting too hard to ignore.

An hour later, as they sat on Edd’s bed and he was looking over Kevin’s Algebra 300 homework for errors while Kevin read over his speech notes for his public speaking class to make sure all his points were clear and concise, Eddy nearly ripped the door off the hinges as he burst through, waving a presentation folder in his hand.

“EDDY!” Edd screamed. “KNOCK!”

“Whatever, Sockhead,” he groaned as he shoved the presentation into Edd’s lap that was full of his laptop, two notebooks, and Kevin’s Algebra textbook.

Kevin pulled away a bit as he knew that his place in their long friendship was always shaky from Eddy’s point of view, but Edd’s hand on his knee gave them both pause.

“Eddy, it’s real fucking rude to burst into closed off rooms and I’m not helping you-”

“You’re helping him!” Eddy protested, ticked that Kevin was once again taking precedence over him and his access to Edd’s bright mind because he was sitting on Edd’s bed and not his own.

“Reviewing a few math problems is NOT the same as trying to decipher your econ presentation. If you had come to me when I told you I was free to help you, I’d gladly done so, but I cannot and I won’t,” he stated coldly as he shoved the folder back into Eddy’s hand and turned his attention back to yet another work email, a rush of anxiety coursing through him as he got a new email alert from a former lover who was now his new research director.

Seeing the stressed out look on his face made Eddy and Kevin a bit concerned, so Eddy took his folder and trudged out of the room closing the door behind him as Kevin pulled his textbook and notebook out of Edd’s lap.

“You ok, Eddward?”

“I’m fine,” Edd sighed a small smile crossing his face as Kevin was the only person in the house to call him by his given name. “Just Johnny tripping about making sure the interns get their lab reports turned in on time.”

Kevin patted his thigh before trying to turn his wrong answers into the correct ones and the house grew a bit more quiet as everyone did their best to make this journey across the state worth the expense and their parents proud.

Two hours later, Ed knocked on the door and Edd invited him in without looking up from the screen he was reading as he scribbled a few notes in his notebook.

“We’re heading out to see It, you in?”

“No,” Edd groaned as he finally looked up at his friend. “I’ve got too much to do.”

A disappointed look crossed Ed’s face before he cocked his brow at Kevin who shook his head.

“I’m backed up on readings because of work, man, so I gotta pass. Y’all have fun, though.”

A silly grin crossed the horror lover’s face as he turned to leave the room, and as he slowly and dramatically closed the door, Edd called out, “You better not go see American Satan without me!”

“You’re only going because you think Andy Black is hot,” Kevin damn near sneered at him and Edd tossed his head back on a dramatic groan before emailing the interns to get their lab reports into his mailbox at the lab as soon as possible.

An hour later, Kevin sat up to put his chin on his shoulder and looked at the screen in front of him.

There were six tabs open, one to Tumblr where he was currently messaging his former swim team teammate, Justin, about some guy named Max, who was doing the absolute most in trying to get his attention.

DoubleDee42: Well with a name like THAT

CaptChocoDrop: shut up dee

DoubleDee42: IJS THO!

Then he clicked on the tab that was a Google Doc where it looked to be something like six different people editing the same section of a lab report at once.

Edd stared at the screen for a solid minute, a thoughtful look on his face before he made a comment in the margin that while Lee had the right idea, it would be better executed Marie’s way, and he wanted May to correlate the results before their meeting Thursday.

The girls sent messages in the affirmative with Marie talking shit about how she got her way as he closed out the tab before the next tab opened to an Amazon page where a smartphone controlled drone stared back at them.

He sighed wistfully before adding it to his wishlist and rolled his neck.

“What do you want, Kevin?”

The redhead chuckled before he stretched and said, “Just seeing what you were up to. I got my shit done, what about you?”

“How’d my speech look?” He asked, the lack of confidence in his tone about being able to deliver a speech about how his mother’s research on the migration habits of hummingbirds being the biggest influence in his choice to go into botany science when he got to college.

“You’ll be fine,” Kevin said as he looked at the speech again. “I like the bit about how you giving her a hibiscus plant to keep the hummingbirds coming back when she got sick helped you learn how to take care of them.”

“Lead with a heartwarming story,” the ravenette shrugged and Kevin snorted.

“If you can’t make them laugh, make them cry,” he grinned and Edd threw a pillow at him that Kevin caught with an expert hand, tossed back on the bed and then laid down on it as comfortable as a church mouse in a worn pew cushion.

“Anyways,” Edd sighed as he looked around for his botany folder for a few notes to add to the speech, while Kevin went back to his readings for he and Eddy’s shared econ class.

“I’m just saying,” Kevin said from behind the book on his chest. “You’re not a comedian, but you can tell a good story. Always go with your strengths.”

“Uh huh.”

Kevin looked over the book to see a nervous hand jotting more notes on index cards and shook his head.

“How about we binge some Stranger Things?”

Edd shook his head as he shook his nerves off.

“The Punisher?”

Another head shake.

“How To Get Away With Murder?”

No response.

“Johnny Bravo?” Kevin asked, thinking something lighter would ease Edd’s frazzled mind.

Edd turned and looked into concerned green eyes and hoped he could contain himself.

Growing up together made their friendship close, way too many drunken high school and then college parties sparked conversations and feelings.

But the feelings were hesitant on Edd’s part as being friends had worked so well and he couldn’t bear to think what would happen if he lost that part of who they were because they couldn’t work out the romance, especially since they lived together in a house with their very best friends.

If it all fell apart, there was no way they’d recover and the mere idea of it broke Edd’s heart.

Then Kevin came to the literal rescue when he picked Edd up from the side of the road in the middle of a snow storm last winter.

Eddy was too busy working to be of much help and Ed was stuck at home with Sarah and a gaggle of her friends so he couldn’t even think to venture out without Sarah tattling on him about it.

At least that was what Edd told everyone.

Kevin was first on his list because he knew that not only would Kevin come, he could help.

The blinding snow made the ditch invisible but the oncoming semi’s lights weren’t.

Edd’s car was totaled, but Kevin’s truck managed to get him out of the ditch and back to town.

He helped him navigate his insurance claim and then was there as a sounding board when he bought his next car.

They all knew Kevin would do anything for his friends, but this went way above and beyond the call of duty and Edd was put on notice.

A home cooked meal was his thanks, they binged Jessica Jones in Kevin’s bed til they fell asleep, and waking up in Kevin’s arms had Edd in a bit of a state for a good week before he stormed into the bathroom when Kevin was taking a shower and demanded answers.

He got a hug and a kiss on the cheek while the redhead lined up his beard before he got the same, you know how I feel speech Kevin had been giving him since sophomore year and Edd almost slapped him.

Kevin ignored his sputtering about how that wasn’t it as he got dressed, not accepting his straightforward answer because wasn’t this supposed to be complicated?

“You know I hate bullshit, Eddward,” Kevin had told him. “You asked, I answered. What more do you want?!”

Edd let out a frustrated scream before storming out of the bathroom and slamming his bedroom door.

A knock came to it a good ten seconds later and when he went to answer it and tell Kevin to shove his bullshit where the sun didn’t shine, he was silenced by a kiss.

“Now do you believe me?!” Kevin had said.

Green eyes that were desperate to be believed met his stunned own and the next thing he knew they were in a tussle in his bed, Kevin’s hands were under his beanie, clutching at ebony silken strands of hair, while Edd wrapped his arms around strong shoulders and held on as he couldn’t believe what was happening but didn’t want it to stop.

Ed knocked fifteen minutes later and when Edd finally opened the door ten minutes later, he couldn’t hide the disbelief in his hazel eyes at the sight of both of his friends and Edd’s bed rumpled and looking like they enjoyed doing it, but he didn’t say anything about it and just handed him the house phone and told him his grandmother was calling.

Kevin brightened up at the mention of the woman who essentially cock blocked him because everyone knew that Edd loved the woman like they all loved jawbreakers, but rarely spoke to her because she lived in France.

They bitched about her son, his absent father, he complained about work and bragged a bit about school, she told him to get a boyfriend and adopt her some grandpuppies.

An hour later, between the conversation with his grandmother, and the Kevin induced endorphin's in his system, his mood was better, but he knew he and Kevin needed to have a talk.

They shouldn’t.

They couldn’t.

They wouldn’t.

They did it anyways.

It wasn’t just that the sex was incredible, but their friendship didn’t really change all that much, so why stop a good thing?

Except with the good comes the bad, and the bad was just making everything messy, messy, messy!

Ed said they were caring more, but Edd would counter that as friendships grow, one would start to care more deeply for the other person so that was bound to happen anyways.

But the caring more would lead to petty arguments, taking any chance to annoy the absolute ever loving shit out of the other, monopolize their time so unworthy people, even their friends, wouldn’t get it, too.

When they refused to say they were more than friends or even friends with benefits, Sarah’s crush on Kevin became more than obvious and even Eddy told her to chill.

Nazz was perturbed that she was confused by it all and instead of being straightforward, she would do petty shit, like whine about Edd letting Kevin get away with not doing his chores, make more of a mess so everyone would have to do more of their own chores, wrangle Kevin into tutoring her in her core classes that he was absolutely clueless on, and just barging into Edd’s and Kevin’s rooms randomly.

And Eddy was his usual sullen self.

But his lack of knocking on Edd’s door went way up.

All of their feelings got messy as the entire dynamic of the house changed because of Kevin and Edd’s random nonsense with each other and over the summer, they mutually decided that while they did like like each other, they loved each other as friends and would remain as such.

Even best friends.

This decision brought things back to normal as the underlying sexual tension was gone.

For the moment anyways.

School started a month ago, and with their futures looming in front of them, everyone was stressed out to the max!

Ed was balancing work, school, and a filmography internship that he was hoping would lead to his first real job in a production studio.

Kevin and Eddy both were vying for internships with some pretty big companies, Eddy in Texas, Kevin in California.

Nazz was thisclose to parlaying her job as the assistant intern producer of the afternoon show at the Top 40 station in town into a real thing.

Sarah was a junior, and still had time to decide what she wanted to do, but her internship applications from fashion design programs in New York and LA were piling up.

And Edd was torn between staying on at the botany lab at the school and starting grad school right away or taking a year off to head to Costa Rica to study the rain forest there with his own team thanks to a few good words from his ex lover.

Staying at school would be the easy thing to do, in the sense that he was well on his way to being accepted into the grad school, but a year off and as far away from everything and everyone as possible would help him recover from the pain of losing all of his friends all at once.

It’s been damn near a year since that first talk, and a good three months since their last.

And yet, here he is again, staring into those eyes, feeling feelings.

“I just need to get this done, okay?”

Kevin’s eye sparkled their usual deep concern for him as he nodded and went back to his reading, and fresh sense of relief rolled off of Edd as he organized his speech, took the online quiz for his African American History class, uploaded the meeting notes for Anime Club and announced with glee that they would be watching a fan dubbed version of Evangelion at their next meeting, and logged Kevin’s attendance in he and Ed’s shared Business Law class that he skipped to sleep in with Edd.

He emailed Johnny about the work schedule for all the assistant researchers, his lab report to his research director, thankful the man was a consummate professional and that no one but themselves and Ed knew what happened last fall, Kevin’s mother about his birthday plans in two weeks during homecoming weekend, and the cemetery his mother was interned at to make sure his monthly flower delivery for her plot had been taken care of.

When he finally closed his laptop, he turned to see Kevin lying still with his textbook over his face.

“Kev?” He whispered as he shook the redhead’s leg and Kevin sighed as he said, “I’m awake.”

His tone was as bright as it ever was when he was awake but his mind was clouded and Edd couldn’t help but care.

“Everything alright?”

“Yep,” the redhead droned, but didn’t move.

“Then get up,” he huffed as he shoved his side, but Kevin barely moved.

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” Edd snipped as he set about cleaning up and organizing his study and homework materials for class in the morning.

“Because I’m learning by osmosis.”

Edd cackled as he put his things on his desk, walked back over to the bed, and took the textbook off his face.

But his snickering died away when he saw the look on Kevin’s face; thoughtful and hopeful.

And the piece of himself that would always cave for him fell. apart.

The book was tossed on the floor, and they pulled themselves towards each other in a hug that was so intimate that it only occurred behind closed doors.

An embarrassing whine left him as Kevin nuzzled his neck, but like he always did, he pulled away to look into bright blue eyes desperate for love and affection but too scared to give it.

It was all the permission he would ever need.

The kiss that followed was frantic and Edd was sure he would have to hem the broken seams in Kevin’s hoodie that he ripped apart as he tugged the warm piece of clothing away.

The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor when his khakis were tossed away was like wind chimes announcing the arrival of a longed for guest who never wanted to leave.

The main thing that made him truly question why anyone thought that it was such a terrible idea to have sex with a friend was the fact that Kevin was the most giving lover he had ever had.

And ever would.

The hands that would toss out pitchers with laser like precision, knew his body better than he or anyone else.

The scruff of the beard he took to wearing lately contrasted with lips as soft as the inside of a damn rose petal and it was fucking intoxicating.

Gentle fingers would caress the scar in his scalp that doctors had to cut into when he was two to remove the tumor that was sucking the life out of him as his hands grasped onto thick, satin locks as red as the sunset and the passion he lived his life in.

The mouth that could tell dirty jokes he learned in the Irish pub his grandparent’s owned back in Dublin, break down the nonsense that was Eddy’s business plans with ease, and awakened feelings with a word and a Colgate smile kissed him all over.

The bed rocked when that mouth swallowed him whole and the quiet room echoed with a scream of a name that never left their rooms.

“Pumpkin!”

He held the underside of his headboard, but without his hands in Kevin’s hair to guide him through the act, Kevin took his time to experiment.

Teeny tiny kisses to the head of his dick made chills run down his spine.

A wide lick from the head to his testicles made him gasp, but when Kevin’s hot breath reached what dozens of rounds of chemotherapy on his tiny toddler body essentially killed, his voice cracked with a sob.

His mind blanked when Kevin mouthed his whole sac like a damn peach.

And he just laid there limply for a moment as Kevin nuzzled the insides of his thighs, only coming back to life when his lips touched his cock again.

Eager green eyes met his own and he giggled as his hands eased into Kevin’s hair again, letting himself go while his friend held his everything in a place that told him no lies.

He had been needing this more than he let on and Kevin knew it so he took his time.

Time was lost to them as Kevin took care of him as only he knew how.

He held back on letting him cum right way by occasionally replacing his hand with his mouth so he could kiss him again.

Kevin couldn’t talk dirty to save his life, but holy hell the compliments.

“My little Einstein.”

“God, you’re so perfect.”

“Who’s Daddy’s Baby Boy?”

“Look at me and let it out.”

“You taste just like candy.”

“Pumpkin’s got you.”

In Kevin’s hands he knew he’d be just fine, when Pumpkin showed up, he knew he didn’t have to worry about anything ever again.

Despite Pumpkin sometimes showing up more often than he’d like, even in public, especially in public, to White Knight himself into any given situation, he still couldn’t resist him.

So he didn’t.

They barely registered the front door opening after Kevin sent him over the edge with his hand, his mouth, and those pretty green eyes.

He was just about to let Kevin pull him into his lap when his door burst open with Sarah and Nazz tumbling in and going on about how crazy the movie was.

They all froze for a brief second, but when Nazz tossed him a dirty look as she set her mouth to say something and Kevin pulled away, he pushed him back into the bed, turned to his rude ass roommates and said two words.

“GET. OUT.”

The venom in his voice and the homicidal look in his ice blue eyes sent them running back down the stairs after slamming the door so hard the room shook.

“Maybe we should -,” Kevin began and Edd shut him up with a harsh, but needy kiss.

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

Strong hands stroked his sides for a bit as his fury started to ebb, but the shaky panting of the man beneath him turned him on more than his friends and roommates lack of manners angered him.

Soft cerulean eyes pleaded with bright emerald and Kevin was back on his game.

He reached up for him and Edd leaned down for a kiss as both of their hands reached for Edd’s nightstand drawer.

Working together, they kissed, they touched, and when Kevin got him back where he wanted him before they had been so rudely interrupted, Edd made a mental note to have a house meeting about closed doors and arched his back as Kevin showed him how he really felt about him.

Again.

Naturally.

Slow hip rolls gave way to Edd riding him like he was his Harley; fast and hard.

The headboard hit the wall that he shared with Nazz and he couldn’t shut up.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that!”

“Harder, Daddy! HARDER!

“Give it to me, Goddamnit!”

On the one hand, he knew he was being a brat, but on the other, what happened behind closed doors between consenting individuals wasn’t anyone’s business and he was going to make sure that if anyone wanted into his room, they would have to get consent first, closed door or not.

If revenge was sweet, it tasted like Edd and nice compliments are nice.

He gave the ravenette a show and Edd let everyone in the house know it.

A scream for every hickey.

A cry for sweet baby Jesus Himself for every touch.

Kisses would silence only a little because under the cover of night, moans carried.

But far too soon, because it had been far too long, he reached his end and the delighted squeal that left him when he left reality made Ed snort and yell, “Good job, Kev!” as he came up the stairs and headed to his room to get some sleep.

No sooner than Kevin had pulled out of him, though, Edd was up and out of the bed.

Grabbing his briefs, he went to his door, opened it and yelled, “HOUSE MEETING! NOW!”

Kevin stared after him as he stormed down the stairs in nothing but his underpants and jumped up, grabbed his sweatpants and hoodie and stumbled after him as fast as his limp legs could carry him.

He shoved his hoodie over Edd’s head as they reached the bottom of the stairs and the other man sighed as he tugged it on, inspecting it for where the new tears were so he knew what exactly he’d have to repair soon.

A couple of minutes later, everyone sleepily tumbled into the living room, scared, but curious as to why Edd was calling a house meeting at 1AM.

“New rule,” he began after everyone but himself sat down, “if there is a closed door in front of you, pretend you’re fucking Opportunity and knock first. Oh, wait! That’s a current rule because it’s common fucking courtesy!”

“Common courtesy would be not boning your roommate, especially when everyone is at home,” Sarah snipped and Eddy rolled his eyes as Ed popped her upside the back of her head.

“Common courtesy would be minding your own fucking business, Sarah,” Edd retorted as he did his best to catch her hazel eyed glare, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“It is her business when y’all let y’all’s bullshit into the house,” Nazz snipped as she gave him a dirty once over.

“You may have noticed that I gave zero fucks when you two were beefing over who’s turn it was to do laundry, even though Sarah’s job requires her to be in a clean uniform every day,” Edd quipped back.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!” The blond exclaimed and Edd smugly grinned, which means the other Eds and Kevin are terrified.

“Because her job pays regular bills in this house because she’s the only one of us with steady paycheck because she’s salaried. So I would kinda appreciate it if she was allowed space to make sure she could go to that lovely job every day.”

Nazz shut her mouth and Edd could tell his point was taken but he wasn’t quite done.

“We all have shit. I always thought that we were adult enough to fucking handle it. Apparently not. So from here on in, if you don’t fucking knock on mine or anyone else’s door for as long as you live here, I’m not only not going to knock, either, but your ass best believe that I will be making my home in your space til I damn well feel like leaving because obviously just because anyone can live here, we can all do whatever we want.”

“Do. Not,” Eddy said slowly as he sat up and gave Edd his trademark don’t fuck with me glare.

“Then. Fucking. Knock,” Edd said in a tone that matched Eddy’s face. Seeing that his point had been made as embarrassment settled in guilty eyes, he heaved a sigh and the afterglow he should have been lying in right now knocked on his heart and mind. “Let’s go, Kevin,” he said as he stormed back up the stairs.

Kevin gave a quick glance at everyone else in the room, and while everyone but Ed looked mad at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care because Edd was right.

“Kevin!”

Kevin shot up the stairs and Ed stood and stretched before following after him, shaking his head at the remaining three in the room.

“Ugh, rude,” Sarah mumbled as just two sets of doors slammed and the house grew quiet again.

But Edd’s room was far from quiet.

As soon as Kevin walked back in the room, closed and then locked the door, Edd shoved him on the bed before straddling him and attacking his neck.

“Eddward,” Kevin hissed at him but he didn’t stop him.

“Pants. Off,” Edd ordered as he tugged off the two pieces of clothing he had on.

“You want to go again?!” Kevin asked in a harsh whisper, surprised that Edd was up for it after what they had just done.

Lustful blue eyes sparkled at him and Kevin’s frightened and turned on all at once.

Edd didn’t cheer him on as vocally as he had done before, but Kevin repainted the scraped wall behind his headboard that weekend.

He ate up the silly compliments, encouragement, and soft touches.

He let himself take what he wanted and shoved every negative thought about it all out of his mind.

His hands wandered across the chest that held the heart that beat for him in a way he didn’t want it to, but he’ll be damned if it ever stopped.

He kissed him in such an enticing way that Kevin knew exactly why they name storms after people.

And why some storm names are retired, never to be used again.

The greed in his heart for the one who was tangled up with him in all the ways was being fed and Edd knew the greed was bad, but the heart wanted what it wanted, even when it couldn’t have it.

Life was just too complicated right now and they couldn’t be. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be there for him when he needed him.

And he always would be.

Kevin sat back a bit on his knees and rocked them both as he knocked one out of the park. Edd caught him as he fell and held on til they both calmed down.

Sarah’s regular pop hits list echoed from her Bluetooth speaker in the bathroom in the hall and Kevin groaned.

“Can you walk?”

He looked down to see a mischievous gapped tooth grin looking back at him and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I can walk,” he huffed as he sat up. “But Sarah is in your shower.”

“Get my shirt,” Edd whispered as he swung his legs out of the bed and tiptoed to the door.

The shirt in question was an old Peach Creek varsity swim team tshirt he got as a freshman and never grew into because it was too big.

Kevin pulled the shirt out of his t-shirt drawer and then dug a clean pair of boxer briefs out of his underwear drawer. When he handed him the clothing items in his hand, Edd shot him an annoyed look, but his eyes glimmered a bit.

Like he’d ever turn down something Kevin thought he looked good in.

Kevin tugged on his sweats as Edd pulled on the shirt and they snuck out of Edd’s room and ran to Kevin’s.

Because Kevin’s aunt owned the house, Kevin got the master bedroom which had its own ensuite bath with an oversized tub/shower combo.

The girls got access when they had cramps, but Edd was the only other guy to ever sit in it with the redhead.

None of his past boyfriends ever lasted long enough for the romantic gesture, but even Eddy said that Edd was the only guy he ever spent anytime with that he actually cared about enough to let him stay more than a few hours in his room.

And as their college lives wound down, he was going to take as many moments with his friend as possible.

They took a quick shower before Kevin plugged up the tub and he had Edd lean his head into his chest, as he held him cross legged in his lap so he could rub his back as they waited for the tub to fill.

“Speech tomorrow?”

“Friday. Small group work is tomorrow.”

“With Dr Heinz?”

“Uh huh.”

“I swear he hates me.”

“He’s just trying to make us think critically,” Edd said of a professor he had for a literature class freshman year that they now had for general education composition class and to say Kevin and the man clashed was an understatement.

“I think just fine, thanks,” Kevin grumbled.

“You do,” Edd agreed, “but not everyone else does.”

A look of understanding crossed his face before he frowned and Edd could swear he thinking that someone or something was a Dork.

“Why I gotta be his example then?!”

“Why do you engage?”

“Hello,” Kevin said incredulously as he shut the water off, “participation points. And he started it.”

A laugh echoed in the bathroom that was lightly heard across the house and only Ed was able to ignore it.

“You’re a child.”

“Says the man that basically told everyone he was gonna shit on their lawn if they came into his room again.”

“All they need to do is knock,” Edd shrugged and Kevin sighed.

“True, but -”

“No buts!” Edd said firmly as he booped his nose. “Aren’t you sick of them trying to spy on us?”

“Yeah,” Kevin sighed, wondering if things would die down if they made it official.

“Well, I’m gonna, ‘shit on their lawn,’ as you so eloquently put it, if they don’t fucking knock.”

“Okay, okay,” Kevin snickered knowing that there was no changing Edd’s mind once he truly decided something.

You could try to convince him til the cows came home, but in the end, his word was his bond.

And that’s why Kevin loved him. Because no matter what happened between them, as long as he said he loved him, they would be okay.

Ed found them in Kevin’s bed the next morning, the door wide open, but he knocked anyway, rousing only Edd, who quickly got ready so they could go get coffee and breakfast at Eddy’s favorite coffee shop before class.

Edd knocked on Eddy’s door after he got ready, Ed leaning on the wall across from it, only for it to be answered by a grumpy Sarah and Eddy still asleep.

Edd shoved the girl to her room and Ed out the door, not looking forward to dinner at all.

Kevin woke up to a text that made him spend the night at his aunt’s.

Eddward: KNOCK BEFORE YOU COME IN.

#kevedd #kevedd fanfiction #reg!kevedd #reg!kev #reg!edd #kevin barr #eddward vincent #tumblr exclusive #life has many open doors ed boy #momma said knock you out #more like lock you out but whatever

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skywardsoul · 7 years

Text

Dianakko Week! (Day 5)

my fifth piece for @dianakko-week Day 5- Spellbound/Enchanted

So I went kind of loose with today's theme. Rather than have Diana Enchanted or Spellbound in the love at first sight kind of way, I thought it would be funny to have be the target of a much more literal enchantment. You can say she's "Spellbound" because Akko can't seem to undo it! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12114093/chapters/27584529

FF.Net link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12655858/5/Dianakko-Week

Akko was used to messing up. She was used to the groans that would come from her friends and teammates, the rolling eyes of her teachers, and the small flicker of disappointment she felt within. That being said, after having saved the world, Akko had worked hard to lessen her screw ups. She focused harder in her classes and even accepted Diana’s offer to help her study afterwards. With each day she was getting farther and farther away from the clumsy witch she had built a reputation for...which only made the times she did still screw up sting even more.

It had all started one day after her visit to Professor Ursula’s (or, was she supposed to call her Professor Du Nord now?). Akko had taken time out of her days to see her favorite teacher not only because she enjoyed her company, but because the redheaded witch was helping to tutor her prodigy in the ways of illusion magic. Akko had practically hounded her old idol to teacher the spells she had used in her performance days, and it wasn’t long before Chariot agreed.

Surprisingly, much like she had with metamorphosis, Akko displayed a knack for the showy brand of magic. It wasn’t long before the Japanese witch in training was able to conjure her very own magical fireworks. Eager to learn more, Akko thought it time she asked the secret to Chariot’s mastery of her own transformations.

“Well Akko, the transformation spell I use isn’t very different than the one you use,” Chariot explained.

“But…?” Akko pushed, just knowing that there was more to it than her mentor was letting on.

Chariot let out a sigh. Somehow she just knew this was going to come back to bite her on the butt.

“But it’s a much more powerful and difficult variant. I’m afraid it’s a tad bit too advanced for your current level,” the professor said with an air of authority.

Akko recognized the tone instantly. While she may be her favorite student, Akko would be the first to tell anyone that Chariot wasn’t afraid to express her authority as a teacher over her when she needed to. There was sometimes were no, simply meant no. Regardless, Akko decided she would try and push her luck anyway. The idea of her transforming into her own centaur form, galloping through the air, was simply too strong of a temptation.

“Pretty please, Ursula Sensei?” Akko asked, still referring to her mentor by her old fake name. “I promise I’ll be super careful practicing it!”

She gave her mentor the best puppy dog face she could muster. Unfortunately for Akko, Chariot’s will was too strong, and despite a slight moment of hesitance, stayed firm on her earlier ruling.

“I’m sorry Akko, but not today,” the red haired witch said, giving her student a sympathetic smile.

Akko slumped her shoulders in response. She had expected this outcome, but still felt bummed anyway. Still, she had a fun time with today’s lesson, and figured she shouldn’t let it end on bad note. Standing up with a smile on her face, Akko addressed her teacher.

“Ah oh well, I’ll get there someday. Thanks again for today, Ursula Sensei! I’m getting better and better, I just know it!” At this declaration, Akko pumped her fist in the air.

Chariot giggled softly at her prodigy’s antics, before returning her bright smile.

“That you are Akko. Who knows? Maybe you won’t need my help anymore,” Chariot said. She was proud of Akko. Only but a few months ago Akko hadn’t even been able to cast a correct spell. Now, she was well on her way to becoming the next great Shiny Chariot.

“Don’t say that Ursula Sensei! I’ll always need help from my favorite teacher!” and with that Akko moved to wrap her startled mentor in a quick hug, before turning for the door.

“Bye Ursula Sensei! I’ll see yah on Friday!” She called over her shoulder as she dashed out the door.

Unknown to her teacher however, a plan was brewing in Akko’s mind. While she was sure that Professor Ursula meant well, she couldn’t help but think that she was underestimating her. Akko just knew that if she had taught her the advanced transformation spell, she could have galloped out of her office rather than walked. Thankfully, Akko knew of a way to go about learning the spell herself. Ever since Diana had started helping her study, the blonde heiress had gotten her access into the advanced section of the library. Many of the Luna Nova teachers, Professor Finnelan especially, had been somewhat opposed to the idea, but Diana had spoke up for her, saying that she had just as much right to the higher learning as anyone else in the school. Akko smiled at the memory, Diana standing next her so proudly, and Finnelan’s shocked face when the other teachers all eventually agreed.

The last time the two of them had been studying, Diana had taken her into the advance section of the library. While Akko had tried to focus on the material Diana was going over, her eyes couldn’t help but wander, when the spine of a book caught her attention. “Becoming a Stronger You: The Secret of Transformation Magic.” If there was anywhere she could learn Ursula’s forbidden transformation spell, it was from that book. She had to admit, she felt a little bad about using the access Diana fought so hard to get her for such a selfish reason, but figured the British girl would understand once she saw awesome the result would be.

Akko felt herself blush as she imagined Diana staring at her in absolute awe. There was no way she was going back now. Giggling happily to herself, Luna Nova’s resident troublemaker made her way to the library.

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It was after Dinner when Akko was finally able to slip away from her friends, and try out the new spell. Once the others had all begun to head back to their rooms, Akko had made a rushed excuse about having to meet Diana to study before taking off down the hall. The room she had chosen for her impromptu spell practice was one she was no stranger to. More than once, Diana and her had used the empty classroom for their study sessions. The room had once been used for the no longer existing class of Magic Mineralogy, and had remained vacant, ever since.

Making sure no one was watching her, Akko opened the door of classroom, and slipped inside. Just as she had predicted, the room lay completely devoid of persons. Unlike the other classrooms of the school, the old Mineralogy room had a large stretch of open space, and various tables for students to sit at situated near the back. Grinning widely to herself, Akko stepped into the open area, and pulled out her wand. This was going to be so cool. Eagerly, she took the concealed spell book she had taken from library out from under her vest where she had hidden it. Flipping to the page she had bookmarked earlier, Akko excitedly began to read over it.

“Metamorphie Magnificum,” Akko read aloud with a whisper. She felt her excitement rise. Even the name sounded cool!

Taking a deep breath, Akko tried to reign in her excitement, a turned back to the page a determined look on her face.

While she had genuinely intended to read the whole thing, the book was very long winded in its explanation. Akko understood the need to go over what the spell did, but did it really have to talk about its origins? Quite frankly, as long as it could help perform amazing transformations, Akko could care less about which witch created it, or who stole ideas from who. Couldn’t the book just get to the wand motions yet? That’s all she really needed to know to cast it. Deciding that she should just skim the rest of it, Akko came to the technique section of the spell. She could feel her earlier excitement return as she carefully studied the listed hand motions, and stance.

Taking a deep breath, Akko set the book down, and assumed the needed stance. This was it! She was gonna achieve a transformation that would blow everyone’s socks off! Akko scrunched her face in thought as she pondered her possibilities.But what should she turn into? The centaur she had envisioned earlier certainly was a tantalizing prospect... but it would probably be a good idea to start smaller. Maybe only change one or two body parts. Maybe she should give herself some wings! Or-

Akko’s face lit up as an idea struck her. A mermaid form! Yeah, a mermaid that could swim through the air like it was water. Of course it was probably best to just stick to the tail for now. Akko giggled excitedly to herself at the thought. Resuming her earlier stance, Akko started to envision her goal in her head. She thought long and hard, seeing her legs change, and be replaced with a long, elegant, coral pink mermaid tail. She had this. She was ready. Taking in another deep breath, Akko waved her wand, and bellowed with all her might.

“Metamorphie Magnificum!”

Unfortunately for Akko, at the very second of her casting, the door to the classroom opened, and in walked Diana.

“Oh Akko, there you are. I was going to-,”

The effect was instant. That single moment, that slight distraction, was all it took for Akko’s mind to shift focus. Of course the second her mind shifted focus to Diana, so did the target of her spell. A brilliant flash of green light filled the room, temporarily blinding Akko. As the she slowly regained her vision, she heard Diana give a yelp of surprise, followed by a loud thud.

Turning around quickly, Akko looked to her friend, hoping she wasn’t hurt. Diana lay flat on her back, almost as if someone had knocked her legs out from under her. Of course in reality it was more like someone had taken said legs away from her, as they had vanished completely, replaced by a long, pink, mermaid tail. Akko gasped at the sight, covering her mouth in surprise. Diana groaned as she slowly sat up, rubbing the back of her head. Akko waited with baited breath as the other girl slowly looked downward, coming to a realization of what had happened.

Rather than the angry outburst she had been expecting, Diana let out a tired sigh.

“Akko,” she began slowly. “Why did you see it fit to give me a fish tail?”

Akko laughed nervously, secretly returning the spellbook to its hiding place.

“Well, uh...technically it’s a mermaid tail Diana,” she said with another nervous chuckle.

Diana stared at her, unamused.

“Alright then,” the heiress said, slightly annoyed. “Why did you see it fit to give me a mermaid tail?”

Akko swallowed nervously as she tried to think of an explanation and fast. She couldn’t let Diana know about the spell.

“Well you see, I was just practicing some of my transformation magic,” Akko said, hoping Diana wouldn’t catch on to what she was hiding. “The tail was uh, supposed to be for me. I just lost focus when you walked into the room.”

Diana frowned slightly at this.

“My apologies Akko. I didn’t mean to interrupt your practice,” Diana said sincerely.

Akko waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head quickly.

“I-it’s okay Diana! You don’t have to apologize, really! I’m the one that gave you a tail after all.”

Akko breathed an internal sigh of relief as Diana let out a small laugh.

“Yes I suppose you are right,” the British girl said.

“Diana seems to be taking this whole thing really well!” Akko thought to herself. “Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after-”

“If you don’t mind, however, I’d like my legs back please.”

Akko’s mind froze mid thought as Diana’s request rang through it. Her earlier feelings of panic and nervousness returned full force as she gripped her wand.

“A-are you sure? Cause you make a really pretty mermaid,” Akko said. While she had said it to divert Diana’s attention, she wasn’t lying. Diana really did look like a perfect fairytale mermaid.

Diana blushed at Akko’s compliment, turning her head and crossing her arms. Letting out a quick cough, she tried to regain her composure.

“While that is very kind of you to say, yes I am quite sure I’d like my legs back,” Diana said, turning back to face Akko. She quirked a brow in confusion as Akko started to sweat bullets.

“Akko, is everything-”

“Everything is A-okay! Yup it’s all 100%!” the Japanese girl said suddenly, cutting Diana off. “One pair of Cavendish legs coming right up!”

As she shakily raised her wand, Akko’s mind swirled in a panic. The book hadn’t mentioned anything about reversing the spell! At least not that she could think of. She prayed to whatever powers may be that she could undo the transformation with her normal spell.

“Metamorphie Faciesse!” Akko called as she waved her wand in the familiar motion.

There was a flash of green, and then...nothing, as Diana still sat on the floor, mermaid tail and all. Akko felt panic grip her. Maybe she just had to try harder.

And try harder she did, as Akko repeated the motion and shouted louder than before, “Metamorphie Faciesse!”

Again, nothing happened. It was two more tries of this before Diana finally spoke up, having noticed something was amiss.

“Akko...Is there something wrong? Something you would like to tell me?” Diana asked carefully.

Akko felt herself pale as she realized she was going to have to tell Diana the truth. The blonde girl was going to be so disappointed in her. Akko frowned deeply as she pictured the scolding she was going to receive. Part of the reason she had wanted to do this was to impress the other girl, and she had ended up doing the opposite.

“I, uh..can’t undo the spell..” Akko said quietly, disappointment heavy in her voice.

Diana merely blinked back at her, confused.

“Surely you’re joking,” she said in disbelief. “I’ve seen you turn into an elephant. Surely you can change a simple fishtail.”

“Well...if I used my normal transformation spell, than yeah I could,” Akko said, now looking at the floor. “But I may or may not have used an advanced spell Ursula Sensei told me about…”

Diana let out another tired sigh.

“Well then we best go see professor-”

“NO!” Akko cut her off with a yell.

Diana jumped back in surprise at the sudden outburst.

“We can’t Diana! If there’s one thing we can’t do it’s go see Ursula Sensei!”

Akko had been so worried about what Diana was going to think of her that she hadn’t even stopped to think about how her favorite teacher would react. She was going to be so angry with her. The red haired witch had specifically told her she wasn’t ready for the spell, and Akko had gone behind her back to test it anyway. Turns out Ursula was right. She was far from ready.

“Akko,” Diana started softly. “Why not? What’s wrong?”

Akko didn’t even realize she had started crying until she heard Diana’s tone soften.

“...Ursula Sensei told me I wasn’t ready to try it,” she said with a sniffle. “She’s going to hate me when I tell her what happened…”

Diana gave her friend a soft smile.

“Akko, Professor Urs-Professor Du Nord would never hate you. You know how much she cares about her students, how much she cares about you.”

Akko’s only response was another sad sniffle.

“Sure she may be disappointed with you, but she would never hate you,” Diana said.

“What about you Diana?” Akko said, catching her off guard. “Do you hate me?”

Diana slowly shook her head. “Of course not Akko. I could never hate you either…”

Akko felt her mood pick up slightly at this, her heart giving a flutter. Diana was right, Ursula Sensei may be her teacher, but she was also her friend. Even if she might give her a punishment, Akko was sure the red haired woman would do everything she could to help her.

“You’re right Diana! Let’s go see Ursula Sensei!” Akko declared loudly, making her way to door.

“Um, Akko? How exactly do you expect me to get there?”

Akko froze in her tracks at this. It was a good question. Diana had already displayed earlier that she was in no way capable of supporting herself on those flimsy fins. The best option, Akko realized, was simply to bring Ursula here. She was about to suggest just that when another idea popped into her head. Akko felt her face slowly heat up at the thought.

“I could always uh...carry you there…” Akko said, a blush lighting up her face.

“C-carry me!?” Diana said with an embarrassed squeak.

Akko felt herself blush harder at her friend’s flustered response. Despite their current situation, Akko couldn’t help but feel giddy at the prospect. Just the thought, her carrying Diana down the hall, bridal style, the beautiful girl’s arms wrapped around her neck as she cradled her in her own. It sent Akko’s heart soaring.

After a long pause, Akko realized with disappointment that Diana was opposed to the idea, or at least she thought she was. Clearing her throat, Diana finally spoke.

“That’s...not such a bad idea,” she said, a blush coloring her face as well. “Just make sure that we aren’t seen. I’m sure I speak for both of us when I say that we don’t want anyone asking questions about this.” she gestured to her tail.

Akko nodded in agreement. Walking to where the heiress lay, Akko knelt down.

“Ready?” the brunette girl asked.

“Ready,” came Diana’s determined response.

In one quick motion, Akko scooped Diana off of the floor, and began her trek back to the Astral Tower.

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While she had mostly forgotten about it on the way there, thanks to carrying a certain beautiful impromptu mermaid, Akko felt her apprehension at having to explain her mistake to her mentor return full force as she entered the Astral Tower. Still, she needed her help. Diana needed her help. It wasn’t long after Akko had knocked that the door to Chariot’s room swung open.

Chariot stood in the doorway, dressed now in her red tracksuit. The French witch gave her two students one glance before letting out a sigh. She supposed she should have guessed something like this would have happened. Stepping aside, Chariot motioned for the two girls to come in. Akko walked through the Door, Diana in her arms, and Chariot closed it behind them.

There was a long pause. Akko was the first to try and break it.

“Ursula Sensei, I can explain.”

Chariot merely shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t need you too Akko. I think it’s pretty obvious what happened,” she said, looking her prodigy in the eye.

Akko’s face split into a large frown, tears already starting to well up in her eyes. The last thing Chariot wanted to do was kick her when she was down, but her student needed to hear this.

“Akko I had specifically told you that you weren’t ready for this spell.”

“I know,” the brunette admitted sadly. “But I just thought that-that if I proved you’d wrong, you’d be impressed with me. You both would…”

Diana blushed slightly at this admission. Chariot put a hand on Akko’s shoulder, giving her a small smile.

“You’ve already impressed me so much Akko. You don’t have to try potentially dangerous spells to.”

Akko face slowly changed to that of a smile. She nodded her head in understanding.

“Now then,” Chariot said raising her wand. “How about I give Diana her legs back?”

“Oh!” Akko exclaimed, having forgotten briefly that she was still carrying the other girl. Following Chariot’s instruction, Akko set her down on the professor’s bed, and stepped back.

Pointing her wand purposefully, Chariot waved her wand, silently casting the powerful transformation spell. A green swirl launched from her wand, wrapping around Diana’s tail. When it had vanished, Diana’s legs had returned, skirt and all. The young Cavendish breathed a sigh of relief, and Akko let out an excited cheer. Running forward, she wrapped the blonde girl into a big hug.

“Yay Diana! You’re back to normal!!” she said happily. “I was worried that I made you a mermaid forever!”

Diana blushed as Akko swung her around excitedly. Clearing her throat, she spoke up.

“Yes, I am quite happy too. Do you mind um...setting me down, however?” She asked bashfully.

Akko realized just what she had been doing, and slowly put the other girl back on her feet, scratching the back of her head while laughing nervously.

“Well, now that is settled, It’s probably a good idea for you girls to head back to your dorms. Akko, we can talk about your punishment tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it between us,” Chariot said, as she opened the door.

A small part of Akko had hoped she would have been able to get off with just a warning, but she knew that a punishment of some kind was only fair. Afterall, Ursula Sensei was be incredibly lenient by not telling the headmistress of her transgression.

“Thank you, Ursula Sensei,” Akko said, bowing to her teacher.

Diana smiled before following suit. “Yes, thank you very much Professor.”

Chariot gave a bashfully laugh waving off their thanks.

“Oh it was nothing. Just doing my job as your teacher.”

Bidding their teacher goodnight, Akko and Diana made there way to their rooms. The sun had already set, casting Luna Nova’s halls in the final glow of twilight. Turning to face the girl next to her, Akko rubbed her arm bashfully.

“Hey Diana, thanks for taking this whole thing so well. And sorry about turning you into a mermaid…,” she said quietly.

Diana smiled at her, taking the other girl’s hands into her own.

“It’s quite alright Akko. The whole thing was… kind of nice,” the heiress finished with a blush.

Akko’s face lit up a similar red as she thought back to how nice Diana felt in her arms. She gave the other girl a bright smile.

“I wasn’t lying earlier when I said you made a pretty mermaid you know,” Akko said. “You looked like you had just come out of a fairytale book!”

Diana’s whole face lit up red at the compliment. She didn’t really have much time to react to it however before Akko pulled her into a hug.

“Goodnight Diana,” the Japanese girl said with a whisper. To her delight, she felt the other girl hug her back.

“Goodnight Akko.”

#dianakkoweek #dianakko #diakko #little witch academia #alec writes #lwa

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natasha-cole · 7 years

Text

Ready Steady Part 7

Summary: Last day of the convention. The reader and Rob attempt to pin down what it is that they are. Is this just a fling, or could it be something more? Reader spends more time with Rob’s friends, getting to know them. Reader speaks more with Kim. When the convention ends, they talk about past relationships. But, can the reader be honest about her past?

Word Count: 5705

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, this part is pretty clean and mellow.

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

Reader uses Tin Man by Miranda Lambert again.

Catch up: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

When you woke up, you couldn’t help but feel a bit panicked. You had tried to roll over, only to realize that you couldn’t move. Rob was sprawled out on the bed, an arm and a leg draped over you so that you were practically pinned beneath him. It took you a moment to recall why he was there. Last night had felt like a dream. You had almost forgotten about you asking him to stay. Rob snored lightly next your ear, beard scratching against your shoulder. You smiled, remembering the amazing night you had shared with him. You considered waking him, knowing that he had to get down to the convention again today. But, glancing at the bedside alarm clock, you knew that there was still time. You moved in closer to him, closing your eyes in hopes of getting just a little more sleep.

After some time, and no luck with falling back asleep, you realized that you needed to get up. Your body ached from being unable to move beneath Rob’s body. You slowly began to move his arm away from you, trying hard not to wake the man. If you had been exhausted by this weekend, you couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling like. It seemed that the man never rested. Once you had succeeded in slipping out from beneath him, you stood up and found your pajamas, which you slipped into. You made your way to the couch, unsure of what to do now that you weren’t in bed. The sun was barely peeking through the curtains of the hotel room, it was still very early. There wasn’t much that you could do at this point, seeing as how you wanted to let Rob rest. So, you found your notebook on the table, grabbed a pen, and sat down.

You had been working on so many different lyrics over the past few days, many of them unfinished. You thumbed through the pages until you found something that you had started yesterday. You stared at the first lines, something that you had jotted down, just as a passing thought. You glanced back toward the direction of the bed; smiling fondly at Rob who hadn’t stirred. Putting the pen to paper, you started to quickly write down more lyrics that you had come up with.

You must have been writing for some time, lost in thought; because when you looked up from the notebook, you noticed that Rob was up. He was sitting in the bed now, leaned back against the headboard watching you.

“Sorry I woke you up,” you apologized, closing the notebook and returning it to the table.

“You didn’t wake me,” he said, “I just noticed that you weren’t in bed with me. I thought you may have run out on me for a minute there.”

You stood up and made your way back to the bed, crawling in next to Rob, “I wouldn’t run out, it’s my room.” You joked as you nestled into his side. He put his arm around your shoulder, tracing his fingertips down your arm.

He let out a small laugh, “okay, now I’m just waiting for you to tell me to leave.”

You frowned at him, “don’t leave. I want you to stay here.”

“I would love to stay here in bed with you all day,” he stated, “but I’ve got one more day of the convention to do.” He checked the time, “And I’ve got to go soon.”

“I just want to keep you all to myself,” you pouted. He laughed as he leaned down, catching your lips with his. You gladly returned the kiss, feeling your head swim as he nipped at your lips. You wished that the two of you could stay like this forever.

“You can, you know?” he whispered against your mouth, “keep me all to yourself, if you really want to.”

You looked at him, searching for a sign that he was serious. Of course, you had thought about the possibility of you and Rob being long-term. People don’t just meet someone that they completely connect with every day. You felt lucky to have found him, and you had been constantly thinking about whether or not you could make this work. Even more, you had been wondering a lot about if he was even on the same page as you. Part of you thought that this was going to end soon. He didn’t seem like the type of guy… but this could very well have been just a convention hook-up for him. You questioned if things would change when this weekend was over.

“You say that now, but what happens tomorrow?” you asked.

“What do you mean? Tomorrow, I go back to L.A. And you go back to L.A. And we just hang out in L.A. together.” He was looking slightly uncomfortable now. “Unless… unless that’s not what you want.” He removed his arm from behind you, sitting up now, he began to rub his hands against his face.

“I didn’t say that, I just figured that this was a fling or something.” You explained. “I know a lot of celebrities, I know how these things usually go.”

“That’s not me,” he corrected you, “I’m not that guy.”

You didn’t know how to reply to him. You felt bad that you had offended him.

“Is that what you want, Y/N?” he looked at you, a hint of pain in his eyes, “You want to keep this just a fling?”

“I didn’t say that either. I just assumed.” You couldn’t look him in the face anymore. “It’s just… we just met. And this all moved so fast…”

Rob looked thoughtful for a moment. “Let me ask you something,” he turned toward you, staring into your eyes, “if I asked you, right now, what this…” he motioned between you and himself with his hand, “is… what would you say?”

Your heartbeat quickened with the question. You didn’t think that you would get to this point with him any time soon. Yes, the two of you had kissed and yes you had slept together already. But, you had brushed most of it off as heat of the moment situations. You were attracted to each other, you enjoyed each other’s company… but to be sitting here, being asked what “this” was, it had become a little too much. For a brief moment, you thought about lying to him. The words were on the tip of your tongue. Why couldn’t you tell him that, for you, this was just a fling? You had become so good at lying over the years. You thought about your last relationship, how badly Chris had treated you, how long you had stuck around for someone who didn’t care about you, and how your heart had been so damaged that you were now considering giving up this man who actually seemed to care about you. You had felt broken for so long, afraid that now, your brokenness would only ruin things with Rob. Meeting Rob had affected you greatly. You found yourself smiling more, you found yourself with something to look forward to each day. Those words that sat on your tongue didn’t make their way out. Something in Rob made it difficult to lie to him about this.

“I’d say that… I know that we rushed into things and this all happened so quickly,” you hesitated, searching for the right words, “but I like you. Last night was not a mistake, it happened because I like you so much,” you paused for his reaction. He only waited, watching you. “so, I guess that… this…” you imitated his motion from earlier, “this is… something.” You couldn’t find the right words, but the look on Rob’s face indicated that he understood what you meant.

“I feel the same way,” he beamed, “I-I feel like this could be a really good thing.”

You wanted to put a name to it… this thing with Rob. You wanted to be his and you wanted him to be yours. At the same time, you knew that you needed to tread lightly. You reminded yourself that you had just come from a bad situation, a situation that Rob had no clue about. You realized that he wasn’t even aware that you had literally just got out of a long relationship. You also remembered that apparently, Rob had come out of a relationship that sounded like it ended badly not long ago. You didn’t know details about that either. There was still so much that you didn’t know about each other. There was a lot about you that you weren’t sure you wanted him to know.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I think we should definitely see where this goes. But, maybe we should slow it down a bit.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, running his hand across your thigh. He peered up at you, giving you a sly look.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“I’m taking it slow,” he replied. He moved toward you, pushing you back onto the bed before pinning you down. He laid on top of you, bringing his mouth to yours. He kissed you slowly, tongue tracing your lips, nipping and sucking.

“You call this moving slowly,” you attempted to joke, but your words came out in between heavy breaths as he started to kiss down your neck.

“Yes,” he replied, “I’m going to make it nice and slow.”

“Hmm…” you hummed, “you’re going to be late.”

“I don’t care,” he argued.

Your breath caught as he sucked at your collarbone. You didn’t object. You let him touch you, let him continue to praise your body with his mouth. You didn’t care if he was late either. You urged him on, wanting more of him. Maybe taking it slow was no longer in the books with the two of you. But, you agreed with his sentiment, this could be a really good thing.

Rob was rushing around room when he realized that round two really had made him late. He scrambled around, searching for his clothing as you laid in bed, watching him with an amused smirk on your face.

“I told you you’d be late,” you reminded him.

“I’m not late yet,” he replied, “but by the time I get back to my room and get showered, I will be.” He finally found all of his items of clothing. Dressing quickly in last night’s clothes, he leaned over you, giving you one more kiss before he headed for the door.

“I’ll see you down there later,” he called as he opened the door, carrying his shoes in his hand.

“Enjoy your walk of shame,” you called after him with a grin.

“Haha,” he gave you a fake laugh as he hurried out.

You took your time getting ready for the day, feeling a tiny bit bad that Rob had to rush to make it to the convention in time. As you worked on your hair, you remembered that you still hadn’t listened to Louden Swain, aside from the songs played at the concert last night. Thinking it was as good of a time as any, you thumbed through your phone, opening your music app. You searched for the band and was shocked to see that they had a lot of albums. You added all of them to your library and put the songs on shuffle before going turning back to the mirror. Eventually, you found yourself humming along to the songs, dancing in your bathroom. They were really good, of course you knew that already after seeing them play live. You smiled to yourself, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like Rob. Not only was he cute, but he was talented and sweet. It felt good to realize that you had found someone who loves music as much as you did.

When you were ready, you headed downstairs. It had become almost a habit, a ritual. You took the same route as you did the past couple of mornings. Only this time, you didn’t feel as anxious and out of place as you had that first day. You felt like you belonged here although you still hadn’t watched the show. You made your way to the greenroom and your heart skipped, knowing that you would get to see him again very soon. The other volunteers had become familiar with you by now, and a few of them nodded as you entered the room, not trying to stop you to ask who you were.

The same group of people greeted you as you entered. Billy, Mike, Stephen, and Jason sat around their usual table; fiddling with instruments and phones. Osric, Ruth, Briana, and Kim occupied a couch; laughing among each other with their coffees. You paid them no mind as you scanned the room until you found Rob, who was talking to Rich in the corner.

“Hey,” you said as you approached him.

“There you are!” he grinned, pulling you in for a kiss, “I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.”

“Lost track of time,” you explained, “I was listening to your band in my room and just got sidetracked.”

He cocked his head at you, “Well, you’ve heard us live.”

“I know, but I wanted to hear some of your other songs… you’ve got a lot!”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “Maybe I’ll get to hear you sing something soon. It’s only fair…”

“What can I say,” you shrugged, “there hasn’t been a lot of time to sing for you.”

“You could do it now,” Rich interjected, “I mean, were on down time while Jared and Jensen do their panel.”

“Hmm…” you thought about it, “I think Rob meant that he wanted to hear me, like a private performance.”

Rich raised a brow, “I think he’s had plenty of private performances from you this weekend.”

You felt your face turn red, “W-what?” you stuttered, embarrassed at the implication.

Rob let out an annoyed sigh and shot Rich a scolding glare.

“What?!” Rich defended himself, “it’s not my fault I just happened to run into him this morning as he was just barely on his way back to his room!”

“He caught me doing my walk of shame,” Rob explained, giving you a sweet smile.

You felt a little less embarrassed as Rob reassured you. It was bound to happen eventually, people finding out about the two of you. Rich seemed so amused by the fact that Rob had spent the night with you that he really didn’t tease too much. Instead, he ushered you to the couch where Matt, Osric, and the girls were sitting. He grabbed Rob’s guitar, the one you had played the other day, and practically forced it into your hands.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pushed, “I know you’re a songwriter, but let us hear something… anything.”

“I-I don’t really know…” you argued, “I guess I could play one of the more popular songs I’ve written.”

“Play the one you were playing the other day,” Briana chimed in, “it was really good.”

“Oh, well, that one is new. I haven’t even finished the lyrics for it.” You looked around at disappointed faces.

“I’d like to hear something new. Have you finished anything from this weekend?” Rob asked, now looking excited at the possibility of hearing you sing.

“Uh, there’s one,” you said hesitantly, “but it’s kinda slow and kinda… depressing really.” You thought harder, kicking yourself for even bringing it up. It was the only song that you had finished since you arrived in Nashville, but it was the one song that had made you cry as your worked on it. At the time, you were still distraught over what had happened with Chris. This was before this thing with Rob began to pick up. You eyed him, looking for some encouragement.

Rob smiled back at you, “only if you want to,” he said. You felt a surge of confidence, knowing that you had written a great song; you decided that having this new group of friends hear it could only help you at this point. They could be your critics, they could let you know if it was any good.

“Okay,” you said, clearing your throat. You began to strum slowly, finding the tune before you began to sing:

Hey there, Mr. Tin Man You don't know how lucky you are You shouldn't spend your whole life wishin' For something bound to fall apart Everytime you're feeling empty Better thank your lucky stars If you ever felt one breakin' You'd never want a heart Ohh, ohh, oh Hey there, Mr. Tin Man You don't know how lucky you are I've been on the road that you're on It didn't get me very far You ain't missin' nothin' 'Cause love is so damn hard Take it from me darlin', you don't want a heart

You glanced up at Rob who was watching you with a look of awe. He was transfixed by you, listening intently. You smiled at him and continued, feeling even more sure now. Hey there, Mr. Tin Man Glad we talked this out You can take mine if you want it It's in pieces now By the way there, Mr. Tin Man If you don't mind the scars You give me your armor And you can have my heart

You carried out the last note, finishing the music. When you had finished the song, you glanced around the room at all the faces watching you. no one said anything, they just stared. You felt yourself becoming more anxious now. You seemed to sit awkwardly for some time before Rich broke the silence.

“Now that’s a country song!” he beamed, “that’s my girl!” he shouted as he put his hand on your shoulder. Everyone else laughed, now praising you for your songwriting and singing.

“You have an amazing voice, Y/N.” Matt assured you.

“Told you so,” added Kim. You glanced over to her, almost having forgotten about the conversation from yesterday. She only looked at you warmly, giving you a wink.

“Thanks guys,” you said, putting the guitar down, “it’s just something I had been working on, trying to perfect it so that I can see if anyone is interested in recording it.”

“Why would you want someone else to record it?” Osric asked curiously, “I mean, that was awesome. And it sounded… really personal.”

“That’s what I do,” you shrugged, “I just write the songs. Someone else sings them.”

“Did you ever think about just recording them yourself?” Rob asked. You looked at him, having almost forgotten he was standing there given how quiet he had been while everyone else applauded you on your song.

“No,” you stated simply, “I haven’t thought about that.”

“Well, you should. Consider it, I mean. It was a beautiful song, kinda sad… But your voice…” he trailed off, eyes searching you. He looked a bit sad.

“Like I said,” began Briana, “this girl has got a voice on her.”

“I think we’ve already established that I’m just a songwriter.”

You sighed heavily. They were only being nice, but you had been down this road before. When you first started writing songs, you had always performed them live at open mic nights. That was your thing, that’s what you did. Artists came out of the woodwork, interested in recording some of the songs. You found yourself slowly becoming just a songwriter. There was less focus on your singing, and more focus on your words. When you had met Chris, you thought about performing again. You had told him that you were tired of other artists taking your songs and making them their own. Especially when you constantly put so much of yourself in the lyrics. You had expected him to be encouraging, but you quickly learned that he wasn’t going to be. He often told you that you should just leave the performing to the professionals… the artists who actually had appeal.

“Some of us aren’t meant to be performers,” you stated.

“Maybe because you’ve never tried,” Rob said, almost cutting you off.

You didn’t mean to feel so attacked right now, he wasn’t attacking you. He was genuinely curious as to why you didn’t perform your own songs.

“Why are you pushing this?” you asked, annoyed.

“I-I’m not,” Rob stared at his feet, feeling bad for upsetting you, “I’m just wondering why someone with so much talent thinks that they couldn’t perform.”

“My talent is in songwriting. I’m not a singer. I don’t even have a very good voice,” you tried to defend yourself best you could, “besides, I’m not exactly the performer type.”

“I don’t know who told you that you didn’t have a good voice,” added Ruth, “but they’re idiots.”

“Look, I’ve worked with enough talent. I know what a great performer is, I know what it takes to be a star. I’m not it.” You motioned toward Rob, “Now that… that’s a great performer.”

Rob snickered at your comment as you continued, “Writing ability, a fantastic voice, not to mention that he’s a lefty that can play right-handed guitar. There’s also those good looks and great personality to go along with it.” You tried to lighten the mood a bit.

“Well, even if you don’t see yourself as a performer, you’ve got a great voice.” Rich said. “Maybe we can get you out there for SNS one of these days.”

You laughed, “Isn’t that reserved for the band and the cast?”

The tense moment had passed. You breathed a sigh of relief. This was just like you; making a big deal out of something not meant to be. They were all so nice, only meaning to make you feel better about your music. No one was attacking you or putting you down. You knew that you only reacted the way you did because of what you had been told for so many years. You wished there was a way to erase the constant nagging of Chris’ voice in the back of your mind. The one that always told you that you weren’t good enough, the one that always put you down. The group started to depart back to what they had been doing before your impromptu show. You relaxed as Rob sat next to you.

“You know, I really didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

“You didn’t upset me,” you lied, “it’s just that… I know what I am. And it freaks me out to have attention like that.”

“I get it…” he trailed off. He took your hand in his, “I have to ask though, do you write a lot from personal experience?”

“Always. That’s the best way to write. You do the same, right?” you asked him, curious about his own songwriting.

“Yeah, I do.”

You leaned against him, “Like your song from last night, “She Waits…” that was an extremely personal song, I could tell. I loved the emotion you put into it.”

“That’s a tough one to do, every time. But, yeah, it’s very personal.”

“There’s no point in writing lyrics if you’re not putting a bit of yourself in them.” You continued.

“Who was that song about? Or- what was it about? It was… really sad.” He looked concerned now as he ran his fingers over your knuckles.

“It, uh- it’s about someone who broke my heart.” You said softy. “Like any other great country song, I guess.” You faked a laugh as you recalled the moment you started writing it. You had been hurting when you arrive in Nashville. You wrote it because you really did feel like having a heart was a burden at that point.

“And you wrote it when you got here?” You could tell that he was trying to piece things together. You and he had shared a connection almost immediately on that first day in Nashville. But he also knew that you had written this song while here.

“Yeah,” you thought about what to say next. This was a real moment of truth. Do you say that it was just a song about a long-lost love, perhaps one that ended some time ago? Or do you risk telling him that you had literally just broken up with your boyfriend of five years the day that you met Rob? You couldn’t know how he would take that. You didn’t know what he would think of you. he could very easily be disgusted that you had slept with him just days after your breakup. You didn’t want to do anything to risk losing him, and you really had become so good at lying. But there it was again. That look in his eyes that made you feel like it was impossible to lie to him.

“Actually, maybe there’s something I should tell you. I feel like you deserve an explanation… about everything.” Your heart began to race at your own words. This was it. You were going to be honest with Rob.

“Hey, Rob?” You both glanced up from your conversation to see Billy standing in front of you awkwardly, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’ve got to get out there.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Rob shook his head, standing up, still holding your hand. He looked at you, “we’ll talk later. I think there’s a lot that I should be honest with you about as well.” He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go, hurriedly walking out of the room with the band.

While the band was gone, you wandered around the greenroom aimlessly. Checking out the setup, and stopping to talk to Rob’s friends more. Misha made an appearance, greeting you politely as he had before. You had also met Jared for the first time when he and Jensen entered the room after their panel. You had thought Jensen was officially the tall one after meeting him last night, but you were intimidated by Jared’s size.

“Jare, this is Y/N,” Jensen introduced you. You reached your hand out for a handshake, but the man pulled you into a very tight hug.

“This is the girl, huh?” Jared questioned, “the one Rob won’s shut up about?”

“I don’t think he talks about me that much…” you said.

“Yeah, right. It’s really kinda annoying. But I’ve met you now, and I can see why he won’t shut up.”

You blushed yet again. You had yet to meet one of Rob’s friends who might simply not be nice to you. They really did all seem like a big family. You realized that they all actually liked each other and they really looked out for each other.

As Jared and Jensen were rushed off for photo ops, it was Kim who found you again.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said hesitantly.

“Hey, Kim,” you replied, acting as chipper as you could.

“I just want you to know that I didn’t say anything to Rob.”

“I know,” you said, “thanks for that. Whatever you heard is something that he should hear from me. And he will, okay?”

“You’re going to tell him?” she asked.

“I’ll tell him what I feel he needs to know,” you hinted that you would at least tell him about the breakup.

“What about the other stuff?” she asked. You tilted your head, pretending that you didn’t know what she was talking about. “You know, the heavy stuff… the stuff that you pretended I didn’t hear?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you lied. Yes, you still had the ability to pretend that something that happened didn’t actually happen. You weren’t so much lying to anyone else, you were just really good at lying to yourself. In the end, you figured that wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

Kim let out an exasperated sigh, “Y/N, it’s nothing to be afraid of talking about.”

“I’m fine,” you found your voice beginning to raise at her, “okay? It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” ‘she threw her hands up in defeat. You had mastered the art of making people feel like they were talking to a brick wall. It was your defense mechanism. Denial worked so well for you in the past, and it seemed to be working now. All you could do was wait for Kim to just stop trying to bring it up. then you could go back to pretending none of it ever happened.

Later that night; after the convention had ended, the last panels were done, the final autographs signed, and the remainder of the photo ops were finished; you and Rob walked together toward your room. You were worried, you knew that you had agreed to be honest with him, and he had mentioned that there were some things that he should be honest with you about. Your nerves started to act up just thinking about what he had to tell you. Whatever his story was, it couldn’t be worse than yours. Unless he turned out to be married or something.

You let him into your room where he immediately jumped on you. He kissed you intensely, hands touching every part of your body. But you couldn’t focus on the intimacy at this point. You kissed him back before pushing him away.

“You okay?” he asked looking slightly confused.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, “it’s just, this is your last night in Nashville. We said we’d talk some more. I think we both have some things to tell each other.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

You found yourselves lying in bed, talking about yourselves more, getting to know each other better.

“The girls said that this weekend was the happiest that they had seen you in a while,” you brought up your conversation that had left you curious for some time.

“Oh, yeah. Well, that’s the thing that I wanted to talk to you about,” he leaned up on his elbow, looking at you. “about a year ago, I split with someone… it was a pretty serious relationship. We were engaged…” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I was pretty broken up over it. But there were… a lot of lies… like, I can’t be in a relationship where honesty is impossible. In the end, I just had to walk away. You can’t go through something if you don’t know if it’s real or not,” he studied your face, waiting for a reaction, “I’ve been single the past year. You’re the first person that I’ve actually been interested in since.”

You gave him a smile. Now you felt terrible. His truth was nowhere near as terrible as yours. His past didn’t make him a bad person. You only hoped that he would feel the same about yours.

“I wasn’t supposed to come to Nashville alone,” you blurted out. It was now or never. He tilted his head, waiting for you to continue, “I was at the airport back home, I was waiting for someone… my… ex.” You shifted your gaze away from him, you couldn’t bear to look at him. Hearing yourself say this out loud was bad enough. “He didn’t show up. Instead, he called me and said he wasn’t coming because he was leaving me for someone else. Five years, and he was suddenly done. It had been bad for a while, but we were going to come here to work on us. I should have known that there was nothing left to fix. So I came here alone, turned it into my own single-girl vacation,” you laughed uncomfortably. “I meant to take the week to just focus on myself, write music, and just enjoy Nashville.”

“You didn’t mean to meet me?” Rob’s question was more of a statement.

“No… but I did.” You shrugged. “And I really started to like you, and that scared me.”

“Which is why you kept running off?”

“Yeah, God,” you could feel the tears well up in your eyes again, “you must think I’m so pathetic. I mean, I just came out of a relationship and almost immediately fall into this with you.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I think that you’re incredibly brave. Sounds like you just had your heartbroken, but you weren’t afraid to give me a chance anyway.”

“So, you don’t think that I’m a horrible person for rushing into this with you? I mean, I literally just became single the day I met you.”

“No way, I’m… happy, as terrible as that sounds,” he started getting flustered, “not happy about what you went through, just… happy that it happened in time for our paths to cross.”

“You’re sweet…” you whispered. You pulled his face down to yours, brushing your lips against his slightly, “I’m happy too. You make me very happy.”

He met your lips and kissed you deeply. Honesty had actually went really well. Rob didn’t think of you any less and he was still here. You felt better having gotten that off your chest, it had been eating at you for a few days.

“Can I stay the night again?” Rob asked, stroking your cheek.

“Of course,” you replied as you ran your hands through his hair again, “I need to spend all the time with you that I can before you leave tomorrow.”

Rob frowned as he remembered that he had a flight to catch back to L.A. in the morning, “Can’t you trade in your plane ticket and come back to L.A. with me?”

You had thought about this already, in fact, the idea had been prevalent in your mind since yesterday. But, in the end, you chose to stay in Nashville for the rest of your vacation.

“I could… but I really need to stay for the rest of the week,” you explained. “I haven’t gotten much work done, and maybe not having you around as a distraction for a few days will help.”

Rob pouted for a moment before he started in on your neck again, “fine,” he said in a muffled voice as he kissed down your neck to your chest. You gasped out loud at the feeling, not about to push him away again. “But that means I’m going to distract you tonight.”

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