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8bitscarlet · 3 years

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Witchcraft

Summary: You've found yourself falling deeper into a certain witch's spell. But no matter how strong the magic is, it seems that the two of you just keep missing each other.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst/Fluff (minor cussing)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a fic for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest writing exchange. This one is for @mrsromanoff and the prompt: "I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you." Hope you like it!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours.*

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You never thought your three month assignment with the Avengers would've extended as long as it has. Missions went by with minimal injuries and maximum wins. You found yourself settling well into the chaos of the compound; the echoing boasts of Thor, the competitive edge of Danvers and the snark between Romanoff and Stark. When your three months were up, it wasn't a surprise to anyone that you immediately signed the contract from Stark, an official placement on the team.

Despite all of the alien blasters, Hydra experiments and Tony's benefit parties, nothing could've prepared you for a single person to rock your world. It started innocently enough; stolen glances at meals and ensuring you two were on the same mission team. As time continued, things turned less innocent; sneaking off during charity balls to suck face in the broom closet, you could recall a few times you were nearly caught in the back of the Quinjet. There was something about this woman. The way her fingers slithered through your hair, how those green eyes made your heart say yes, she stripped you bare.

You had convinced yourself it was witchcraft. It had to be.

Sitting with your cheek pressed against your fist, you find yourself doodling as Steve drones on in the background. Someone nudges you and as you turn, Wanda raises her brows when your eyes connect. With a groan, you raise the pen in your hand. Steve notices, stopping his spiel to look at you with a clenched jaw.

"With all due respect, Cap, we all got in at four this morning. Do we need a recap of the mission right now?"

Steve sighs, glancing at everyone and seeing them agreeing with you. You all had barely had time to unpack, let alone write your after action reports.

"Alright, Y/N. We'll go over how your pants tore mid-fight on Monday."

You point your pen at him, warning him as you watch his stupid smile fill his face. Bucky slaps your shoulders in gratitude, picking up Alpine onto his shoulders as he strides out to find Sam. Wanda's fingers gently brush yours as you walk side by side, sending an electric charge through your body.

"You know, when someone says 'with all due respect,' they really mean, 'kiss my ass'." Wanda glances at you with a sly smile.

Walking backwards towards the couch, you outstretch your arms with a grin, "Because that's what I meant, darling."

Chuckling, you roll over the back of the couch and plop down onto the cushions, your head landing perfectly on a pillow. Wanda lets out a scoff, knowing how many times it's taken you to actually land on the cushion and not the floor.

Flipping through the pages of her book, you watch her through half-closed eyes. A year ago you'd be asking what she was reading. A year ago, she'd curl up with you and explain it all. A year ago, you didn't have guilt eating at you.

Things a year ago were more than good between you. There might have even been a chance beyond friends with benefits. You knew you wanted that. Every time you looked at her, you couldn't stop your pounding heart or the warmth that grew in your stomach.

But you were stupid.

Chickening out every chance you had to ask her on an actual date rather than sneaking around to make her moan. You both had set ground rules, no strings attached. If it got too messy, you both had to call it quits. So, you convinced yourself it was better to quietly love her and keep her, than to tell the truth and lose her.

That was before the year long mission with Carol and Bucky. Before you realized how big of a mistake it was two months in. Before every day texts and video chats diminished to every other week, then every other month. Before you got back to the compound and saw her kissing up on some random benefactor at the Welcome Home Party. It was definitely before she started dating that walking toaster, Vision.

Luckily, he hadn't been around much the past month so watching them kiss and stare into each other's eyes was doable, mostly because you turned whenever you saw that stupid spark plug.

Four months since coming home, you've tried to fill the void the witch had created in your body, your soul. You went out with Carol and Bucky, prowling the town and the bar. Matching shot for shot some nights, waking up in random apartments other nights. Eventually Bucky did what you never did.

He asked Sam on a date and that left you and Carol. Until she started hooking up with Maria and dragged her along so you wouldn't be hitting the bars alone. You had made yourself a pity case.

"Do you need something?" Wanda cocks a brow at you, making a face at your prolonged staring.

You clear your throat, feeling the heat rush through your face, "You look a little sunburnt."

With a shrug and a chuckle, Wanda bookmarks her page as she places it down on the coffee table. Standing, she sits down on the couch, your body automatically scooting over to accommodate her. Holding out her red and glowing hand, you watch her pull off her rings, displaying the radiating tan lines running up and down her fingers. A laugh escapes you as you feel her hand slap against your chest.

"I didn't have anyone to put sunscreen on me!" She groans, "It burns!"

You guide your finger gently down her exposed arm, pressing in slightly to her warm skin. As you lift, you see the true color of her skin before it's bombarded with the glowing red of her burn. Glancing up, her green eyes watch you carefully, both of you not acknowledging the weight of her hand still on your chest.

"An aloe vera massage would do wonders," You whisper, "And I'm all out."

With a roll of her eyes, she leans back into your legs, "You really are a pain in my ass, y'know? When I tell people about you, that's the first thing I say."

Watching her float the remote to her awaiting hand, you grin, "Oho, so you're telling people about me, huh?"

"Please, check the ego there."

For the next moment, the two of you sit peacefully in each other's silence. Wanda was one who clung to those she trusted. When you came back, it was like she had superglued herself to you any time you walked into the room. It didn't help that you were still madly in love and she was taken.

Right now though, you watch her delicate fingers play with yours. Her eyes squinting with laughter as she watches her sitcoms, glancing to see if you're laughing as well.

A commercial echoes through the living room and Wanda lets out a sigh for attention, patting your thigh as she drops your hand. You don't move it as it lands atop her thigh, only gently stroke your thumb against the silky skin you wish could press against yours. Letting out a noise that you're both awake and paying attention to her, she glances over at you.

"Since you got Captain America to actually give us a free weekend, what's your plan tonight, casanova?"

You shrug, "I have early training with Bucky and-."

Wanda moves her whole body to face you, your hand slipping from her thigh as confusion spreads across her face. She lets out an unbelieving scoff,

"You're joking. You used to show up half drunk to training and still kick ass."

She's watching you carefully and you try to keep a neutral look on your face, she knows all of your quirks. Glancing up at her with a small grin, you pull your legs into you. Shifting yourself, you sit properly on the couch and run your hands through your hair.

"Just don't want to go out tonight. It's boring." You chuckle, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

Wanda rolls her eyes, "Why, no one catches your eye anymore?"

Another playful nudge and you sigh. All this playful teasing, these light touches. She has to know what she's doing.

Trying to keep a steady and nonchalant shrug, you shake your head,

"No one out there."

And you might've gotten away with it. Instead, you fell into the magnetic pull of those green eyes that cause you so much trouble. As your eyes land on hers, you can see the dilation within her pupils. Then the realization across her face. Her playful grin falls as she stares at you, blinking slowly.

"Y/N," She says slowly, "If you're doing what I think-."

You stand up quickly, your feet taking you to the other end of the coffee table. In two days you'll be gone and you'll be back in the place you hate being in right now. Placing your hands on your waist, you look up from your tapping foot.

"Wanda, I can't keep kissing strangers and thinking they're you."

Silence meets your face. You watch her as she slowly nods at you, "That's exactly what you're doing."

Groaning, she slides her fingers through her hair, pinning it from her face. Wanda lets out a careful breath before looking up at you, "What happened to no strings?"

Slapping your hands against your thighs in frustration, you let out a scornful chuckle, "Come on, Wanda. You know those rules were bullshit! No strings means not going on exclusive trips to museums and restaurants!" You watch her eyes flicker around the room, trying to find a way to disprove what you're saying. "It means not staying up all night when the other is sick!"

Wanda stands up quickly and you can see the look on her face, she knows what you're getting to. Waving her hand to get you to shut up, she tries to get to the stairs but your words blurt from your mouth,

"It means not falling in love!"

Her feet stop carrying her towards the stairs, her body frozen in the middle of the compound. Carefully, you step towards her, leaning ever so slightly to try and catch her eyes. They're glazed over from your confession, trying to understand the implications.

"I left. I..." You suck in a shaky breath, "I thought it would be easier if I wasn't here. You were so adamant about no strings, Wands. I broke the only rule, why would I stay?"

Her head jerks back at your words, her brows furrowing deeply down her face. Without another second to keep talking, Wanda's feet pivot as she shoots a finger into your face. You jerk away from her advance, seeing the growing mist within her eyes as she shouts,

"That's why you left?"

The crack in her voice sends one through your heart.

She turns quickly, her hands violently wiping at the tears that have broken free. You clench your brows. She's angry at you? You're the one who's had to watch her prance around with Vision, you just a memory of romance. Just before she can grab her bag and leave, you call out,

"Well, you seem to have fared better than me!"

As the words leave your lips, you bite down hard and shut your eyes. A surprised choke exits Wanda's throat as she throws her purse back onto the side table, knocking over the decorative bowl of rocks. They scatter across the ground but she doesn't notice, all of her rage is pointing at you. Her fingers run violently through her auburn hair, looking like she wants to rip it out.

"You are infuriating!" She jabs a fingers at you, "Why think that?! Because I'm dating Vision? He's filling a void, dumbass!"

Her words stab into you as her stomps draw nearer, you can feel the heat of her anger. She's not done, she's not letting you off easy.

"Every time he touches me, every time he kisses me. God, Y/N! All I can see is your dumb face."

Wanda's heavy breath washes over you as she finally stops her assault, so close you can see the blue in her green eyes. Her body radiates out to you and you have to force your hands into your pocket to not grab her and kiss her. Your eyes dip to her lips but you see sadness that has quickly replaced the facade of anger. Making a small fist, she slams it into your chest as her head bows. Her arm slides down your body, hanging limply at her side as she looks to you.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

Wanda's fingers twitch forward, wanting to grab onto you. You sigh, taking your hands from your pockets and resting them on your waist. Your confession was supposed to be more romantic than this. Instead, you brought up issues you both were trying to ignore. You were angry now at yourself, taking it all out on the person you loved. You'd spent too long with all of this pent up emotion though, and it was all pouring out in waves.

"I have to finish my requisition forms. Get my gear ready."

You don't have to look up to know what face Wanda is making at you. It's the same face she had when you left the first time. The way her brows clenched together in disbelief, the pain behind her reddened eyes that threatened to spill more tears, how her chin trembled as she tried to breathe.

Her voice barely passes a whisper but standing so close, you hear every broken syllable, "You're leaving again."

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples as you feel your nose stuff up.

"You drop all of that on me and you're just going to turn around and leave?"

Shaking your head, you want this conversation to end. It's obvious where she is and it's not next to you.

"Don't you have a date or something?" You ask.

Wanda's been around you too long to not see exactly what you're doing. She lets out a chuckle, a lethal look in her eyes.

"No, you're right. And that date seems a hell of a lot better than this." Without another word, she snatches her purse from the table and starts to climb the stairs, leaving your feet frozen. Just as she reaches the middle of the staircase, she stops. You can feel her stare burning into you and as you look her way, you wish you hadn't.

"You're a coward."

Those words burn into your brain, rising through your ears and torture you for the rest of the day. The only thing you could think to do was slam your fists into the closest thing. The punching bags. People came and went, eyeing you try and punch away your frustrations to no avail. When the sun finally had sunk below the horizon, one Avenger had enough of your pity party.

"You know she's right." A voice comes from behind you.

You don't respond to them, just dodge the swaying bag. They walk into the room, stopping just inside of your peripheral.

"You're an idiot, you know."

With a chuckle, you sidestep the bag, "You need to be a little more specific."

"You're losing her again."

Another punch, "Uh huh."

Carol sighs next to you, "And you sent her away on her date."

"Yup."

She steps in front of the bag, stopping its movement and stares at you with determination in her eyes, "And you're not going after her?"

Avoiding her stare, you start to unwrap your hands, wiping at the sweat that pours down your face. Stopping, you can feel the cramp in your side and the throbbing of your knuckles. Chucking the wrap, you let out a shrug,

"Is there a point?"

Carol shoves the bag into you, grabbing your attention, "I am not going on another mission with you while you sulk. Do you know you talk in your sleep? Yeah. Guess what name I heard that whole year?"

You shake you head, licking your chapped lips as you search for water, "She didn't say it back."

You hear an exasperated chuckle from Carol, "Y'know Y/N, I'm going to go on a limb and say she wasn't expecting all of that to be thrown in her face."

Shooting her a glare, she keeps talking, "I'm saying this once. If you think this is going to be some cheesy Rom-Com where she bursts through those doors and confesses her love, you're more of an idiot than I thought." A finger jabs hard into your chest as you grimace, "You need to fix this."

Carol leaves you there with your head filled with more thoughts than before. Wanda was happy with Vision wasn't she? She hadn't talked about him much but you knew she had to be. Who were you to go and screw that up?

Night turned into morning and after staring up at your ceiling, you knew you weren't getting any sleep.

Sneaking down the stairs, you see everyone is still asleep. You take the opportunity to sit in more silence and wait for the coffee machine to finish steaming. The sun was just beginning to shine its red hues into the kitchen as you stood at the counter, twirling your empty mug. Lost in thought, you failed to hear the padding of feet coming down the stairs.

"I thought you had early training."

With a quiet chuckle, you lean into the counter, "You caught me."

In silence, you watch the witch pour in her coffee. The same amount of creamer and sugar every time, the same motions every morning since you've noticed her. Turning, she sees your mindless fingers twisting and turning your empty mug. Wanda raises her brows and holds out her hand,

"Refill?"

You hand over the mug and watch her work her magic on the black liquid, turning it into the caramel drink you love. Breathing in deeply, you watch the bubbles swirl around the liquid. You furrow your brows,

"I can never make mine taste-."

"We broke up."

Her words slam into you, your breath catching inside of your throat. Looking up, Wanda stands there in the middle of the kitchen, unsure if she had truly spoken or not. She looks up at you, her mouth closing as she realizes she doesn't know what she's doing.

"What? Wands, are you okay?" You start to stand to go and comfort her, you know they had a date yesterday. Did the son of a microwave hurt her?

Wanda's hand rises, stopping you in your tracks before she takes a quiet breath, "We broke up almost a month ago, Y/N."

Nodding at your obliviousness, you knock your knuckles against the counter as you press your lips into a thin line, "We're both liars then."

"Tell me you lied about the mission," She whispers, leaning into the counter. Her fingers laying gently across yours.

Your chest constricts as you sigh, "I didn't."

You watch her sullen nod, curling hair falling out of her messy bun as you gently graze your thumb across her knuckles. She quietly chuckles,

"We just missed each other."

Stopping your thumb, you clench your jaw. This isn't going to happen again.

"Wanda," You whisper, listening to the sad hum she gives you as she glances up with bloodshot eyes, "I'm sorry. I was scared and... I was an idiot."

Wanda pats your hand with a loud sniff, "I appreciate it, but-."

She doesn't continue. She doesn't want to believe that you're leaving. The love you feel wouldn't be strong enough to survive that time apart again. There's broken support beams and one thing will send it falling down. A far away mission isn't the nurturing this budding feeling needs.

Wanda tries her best to flash you a grin, "Let me teach you how to make coffee."

Before she can turn, you grab her hand quickly, "I'd prefer if you made it."

As you walk around the counter, you gently rest a hand on her waist, watching her carefully. Her handgrips your arm tightly, words stuttering from her lips as she tries to remind you that she's not going. You're leaving her again.

Without hesitation, you press your lips against hers, feeling her breath wash over you in a sigh. You pull her in tighter, leaning your head back to speak,

"Sam's going stir crazy. He can have it."

A smile tugs at your lips as you see her furrowed brows on her face, you place a kiss at the center of the wrinkles, pulling back to see the scrunching of her nose. A scrunch just for you.

"Wanda Maximoff. I love you. And I'm not losing you twice."

Without warning, her lips smash against your as she wraps her arms around your shoulders as you hoist her up. Wanda's legs wrap around you as both of you are smiling so wide that you can't kiss properly. Feeling her cold hands press gently against your face, you look into those green eyes that complete you life.

"I love you." Wanda whispers as her witchcraft wraps around you once more.

#marvelxreader #marvelxreader fanfic fest 2021 #wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda mcu #WOM2021

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1kook · 3 years

Text

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates.

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens.

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class.

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him.

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all.

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly.

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months.

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got.

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career.

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course.

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.”

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you.

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.)

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side.

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly.

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil.

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester.

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness.

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you.

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face.

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!”

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things.

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone.

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought.

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you.

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news.

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward.

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason.

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away.

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom.

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same.

Apparently not.

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed.

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile.

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.”

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck.

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot.

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi.

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.”

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face.

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments.

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.”

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.”

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character.

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester.

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right.

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile. He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.”

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?”

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh.

This man was dangerous for your heart.

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.”

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you.

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well.

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook.

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#mine

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

kiss the girl: ch 4

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 2 extra (ft. marius) | ch 3 | ch 4

***

Ask her out to dinner.

Artem Wing rarely gets stressed. Even when he has a trial the next day and it’s before the highest appellate court, he’s the definition of ‘calm’.

But right now, he’s freaking out.

It’s not that he doesn’t know how to ask a woman out to dinner. Of course he’s had dinner with her before—and they weren’t always team dinners.

The procedure is simple enough. Step one, ask her if she’s free that night. Or any night, for that matter. Step two, ask if she would like to have dinner with him. It’s an easy two-step process that anyone can accomplish.

Except, Artem didn’t factor in a possible third step: what to do when she is “suddenly unable to make it for dinner” with him not once, not twice, but three times in a row.

The first time it happened, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so he insisted that she leave the office early to get some rest, and cancelled their dinner plans for the evening.

The second time it happened, she said she had forgotten about a family dinner that clashed with their dinner plans. Artem had assured her that they could call a rain check, and that she should attend the family dinner to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday.

By the third time, Artem thought things would finally go his way. But alas, she was hauled away by none other than his NXX colleague, Vyn, who needed her assistance urgently with some pick-up artist case. He had offered to go with her, but she insisted that she could handle the case herself. And so, he had no choice but to leave her be, lest she thought that he didn’t have faith in her abilities.

All things considered, Artem is disheartened, to say the least. Having their dinner plans cancelled three times in a row can’t be a coincidence—maybe she just doesn’t want to have dinner with him, but is too scared of him to admit it outright. And it’s probably because he’s her boss, which is a position that he’s rapidly growing to hate. He wishes they could just be normal colleagues. Maybe then he won’t feel so awkward every time he wants to make a move but doesn’t want to come across as pressuring her inappropriately.

Then again, if they were normal colleagues, they probably wouldn’t work as closely as they do now… so Artem is torn on the issue. But that’s beside the point.

The point is, he doesn’t know what to do. Celestine would say that he should just try again, which he could do, but he should probably wait for a while before asking her again. As for how long he should wait, he’s not sure. But he was looking forward to dinner so much that the disappointment has been weighing him down for the past few days.

Deciding he needs some air to clear his head, Artem gets out of his office, intending to get some coffee from the pantry. As Celestine has reminded him many times, he has a working coffee machine in his office. His reply every time is that the capsules that he wants are in the pantry… and he just so happens to forget to take some to his office with every trip he makes.

Out of habit, Artem takes his phone to clear some notifications that have been accumulating since morning. And as he busies himself with replying to client messages and reading some new messages in the NXX chat, he overhears Kiki asking her if she wants to have dinner together. It’s a Friday night, and it’s already five minutes past the time everyone can knock off.

Her response, however, is noticeably sullen compared to her usual cheeriness. “I think I’ll be staying late tonight… I have two sets of written submissions to finish by Monday and I’ve barely started.”

It doesn’t take long for Artem to recall that those were the subs he had assigned to her at the start of the week. They’re due Monday… The other partners might have given her some work to do during the week, which is why she’s running tight on schedule.

He would ask if she wants him to assign one set to someone else to lighten her load, but Artem already knows from experience that she won’t have that. In fact, she’ll interpret it as him thinking she’s not competent enough to finish the work she’d been given and probably get upset—both with him and with herself.

“Then, aren’t you going to eat?” Kiki presses.

“I’ll eat later; I’m not hungry right now. Don’t worry about me, you should go ahead first. See you Monday!”

As Artem slowly returns to his office with a cup of coffee in hand and pretending to be engrossed in fiddling with his phone, he wonders if maybe there is a way to have dinner with her after all.

***

You’re stressed. The looming deadline of the coming Monday and the five cups of coffee you’ve had since morning are contributing to your high-strung nerves, and your hyper-active fingers as you furiously type away at the keyboard. Hopefully you can finish one sub tonight, and then you can do the other one over the weekend at home.

You’re so caught up in research and figuring out how to condense the facts of the extremely complicated facts of this darn case into a neat, concise summary, that you don’t realise that someone has been standing behind you for a while until he clears his throat and calls your name.

With a start, you jerk your head over your shoulder, not expecting anyone else to be in the office at this time—oh, it’s almost 8pm already—on a Friday night.

But here Artem is, holding up a few plastic bags and wearing a smile that isn’t helpful for your already wired heart. Didn’t he already leave the office for the day? And—how long has he been staring at your screen? Has he been watching you struggle over writing a summary of the facts?

He must think you’re an idiot now.

If he does though, he doesn’t show any sign of it. “You haven’t had dinner, right?” is all he asks.

“Dinner?” You take a few seconds to recall whether you’ve eaten or not, and then shake your head with a sheepish smile. “Right. I forgot.”

“I bought some sushi. You’ll focus better if you’re not hungry.”

You glance back at your screen, and even though you’d rather continue working, you reluctantly agree. Maybe you’ll be able to write this better after a short break.

“You’re right. Thanks.” You stand up, removing your glasses and rubbing your tired eyes. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. I was thinking of eating with you… if you don’t mind.”

You can’t help but smile. You’ve had to cancel dinner plans with Artem three times now, and you had thought he would be offended or take it as a rejection in some way. You had actually been planning on asking him out to dinner next week, after clearing all your urgent tasks, to make up for everything. But here he is, offering dinner for the fourth time, accommodating your schedule and even buying sushi from your favorite sushi place. How did he even know?

“Of course I don’t mind! I just thought you’d want to eat with someone else on a Friday night, instead of eating take-out in the office.”

“I’d say eating dinner with you isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

Lawyers and their double-negatives. Now you can’t tell if this counts as Artem flirting with you. Not sure how else to respond, you settle for a generic “thank you” before taking one of the bags from him so that he isn’t carrying everything alone. “Let’s set it up in the pantry.”

He nods, allowing you to take the lead and following behind you towards the pantry. You hear the rustle of the plastic bags, his footsteps, and a small but thrilled "yes” that he whispers under his breath. It’s so low and soft that you almost mistake it for the sound of the plastic bags swinging by your side.

You should probably pretend you didn’t hear that, but still, you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you. The effort that he’s been putting in for the past few weeks hasn’t escaped your notice at all. And considering how much Artem has been looking out for you lately, maybe it’s time to start thinking about what you can do for Artem too.

***

A/N: Thanks for all the support guys, i've been blown away by the encouraging comments and i'm so glad to know that you enjoy this story :)

#tears of themis #artem wing #artem fanfiction #tears of themis fanfiction #artem wing fanfiction #my writing #kiss the girl

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bad268 · 3 years

Note

hello! I was wondering if u could do one with Remus Lupin where he gets mad during full moon, and he's scared to hurt the reader so he just breaks up with her, reader tries to make him jealous (and it works) and it ends on a good note? like there's a lot of angst but it ends with fluff.

I Just Broke Up With My Girlfriend (Remus Lupin X Reader)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Requested: Clearly

Warnings: Language, self injury

W.C.: 1615

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/HP Fancast)

“Do you have any plans for the weekend? I thought maybe we could go to Hogsmeade?” I said as I sat down next to Remus. He seemed upset the past week, and I thought a trip to Hogsmeade would lift his spirits even if it is only a little. He didn’t respond, just set his head down on the table. “We could get some candy and have a butterbeer or something.” James, Sirius, and Lily had sat down across from us and looked concerned for Remus.

“Moony, you good?” Sirius asked with a light laugh, thinking it was an act. Remus’s head shot up at the teasing tone to glare at Sirius before turning his attention to me.

“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore, (Y/N),” he said quietly, almost as if he didn’t want to say it, but the damage was done. He didn’t want to be with me anymore.

“So that’s it? The last six months meant nothing to you?” I was mad. I tried so hard to not be that clingy girlfriend, but also not too distant where we appear as if we aren’t a couple. Clearly, I didn’t try hard enough for us. “You know what-don’t answer that. Based on the breakup, I can assume everything meant nothing to you.”

James, Sirius, and Lily were very confused with Remus’s confession. I just rolled my eyes and went up to go to my common room.

Second POV

James did not understand why Remus was so sour this week. Then again, he remembered the full moon was Sunday-two days away. Remus had been going through weird mood swings before the full moon the last couple of months. The first time he was overly sensitive while the other he was super clingy.

Sirius knew Remus was feeling irritated, but he never thought Remus would explode on his girlfriend. Granted, Remus didn't say it in a harsh way, but Sirius knew (Y/N); she would blame herself for everything. Remus had been short-tempered with him all week, but he was always able to hold back from lashing out and hurting people’s feelings.

Lily was just as shocked as the rest of them. She and Remus were just talking about what he was going to do for your six-month anniversary which happened to fall on the day after the full moon. She helped him plan a picnic by the black lake and decide which books you would be interested in. Remus seemed so happy to be with you, according to Lily.

It hadn’t set in for Remus. He was just mad that his friends were pestering him, then his girlfriend would not stop asking questions, professors decided to assign three essays that were due Monday, and he was just overall pissed about the full moon being so close to your anniversary.

You, however, had just gotten over the initial shock. Now, you were just upset, crying under the covers in your room. Your roommates who had gone up to bed early were concerned but not enough to comfort you. You just wanted privacy, and if they were going to silently judge you, then you would hide in the abandoned Prefect’s bathroom.

“Are you on your man period or something?” Sirius broke the silence around them. “Or is this one of your new mood swings from the full moon?”

“Shut up,” Remus mumbled.

“No,” Lily snapped. “We need to discuss this now.”

“Yeah, you just broke up with (Y/N). Does that mean nothing to you?” James chimed in.

“Of course it does!” Remus exclaimed, standing up. “I just broke up with my girlfriend. And for what? To save her from me. This whole week I’ve just been pissed, and I don’t want to take that out on her,” he said as he started to sob. “I can’t let her get hurt because of me.”

“You should have just told her the secret, Moony. Now, I’m going to comfort her while you guys figure out a plan to win her back,” Lily whispered before getting up in search of you.

“Alright,” James took the initiative, “let’s start planning.”

“Thought I would find you here,” Lily’s voice echoed through the room. “You always come here for peace, but I’m here to cheer you up.”

“How? I know I didn’t try hard enough to keep us together,” Your voice cracked. This was when Lily caught sight of your puffy, bloodshot eyes, mangled hair, and bleeding fingernails. You were tearing yourself apart. “I should’ve noticed.”

“What are you on about?” Lily asked as she sat next to you. She wiped some of the tears from your face and pulled your head to lean on her shoulder as she tried to fix your messy hair. “You are the best girlfriend Remus could have-granted you are the first one he’s ever had-but still!” You laughed lightly before leaning further into your best friend, seeking some sort of comfort. “You know virtually anything about him, (Y/N). He made a mistake, and he knows it.”

“If he knows he made a mistake, why did he do it, Lily?”

“I’m not the best person to tell you his reasoning,” She sighed. Lily really wanted to explain the situation to her, but she knew it was not her place. “Just trust me when I say that he regrets it. Please, give him another chance. Let him explain, then you can choose from there.”

“Fine, one more chance.”

“Now, you need a plan,” James started once the boys got into the common room.

“I think we should wait until after the full moon because we don’t need you to be a moody bitch as you try to apologize,” Sirius said as he lit the fire and plopped down onto his designated chair in the common room.

“Well, our anniversary is the day after,” Remus muttered. His mind was still fuzzy about the whole ordeal, and he still didn’t understand it fully. “I could make it up to her by going through with the picnic idea Lily and I came up with. We were going to do it for our anniversary dinner, but might as well use it as an apology dinner.”

“Alright, so we just need to make sure you don’t harm yourself too much during the transformation,” James clarified. “Are you going to tell her?”

“I have to if I want to save my relationship.”

TWO DAYS LATER

First POV

Today was going to be hard. I knew this. Not only did I stay up past three in the morning finishing these essays, but Remus and I had a tradition where we would go stargazing at midnight on our anniversary. I was not here mentally. I just laid in my bed as all of my roommates began getting up and dressing themselves for breakfast. I could not find the will to get myself out of my bed. Just as I was about to go back to sleep, Lily comes bursting through the door, straight over to me.

“Get up,” She said, urgently pulling me from my bed. “We need to get to the medical wing, now.”

“Why?” I asked. She refused to tell me anything. Just insisting to hurry up. She continued to drag me through the halls. Finally, she stops directly in front of the door. “Please, explain this to me. Who’s dying?”

“It’s not a matter of life or death, but this is their opportunity to explain themselves,” She said, pushing me through the door.

I walked through the room, no one was in there. Well, there was one person. They were laying on the bed closest to Madam Pomfrey’s office area. I didn’t want to intrude on whoever was recovering, but once Madam Pomfrey caught sight of me, she ushered me over. Pulling back the curtain, Remus laid bruised and battered. He looked like he had gotten into the worst fight.

“What the hell happened to you?” I said, kind of heartless. I honestly thought this was karma.

“I need to explain everything,” He said quietly as he sat up more, holding his hand out to me. With a sigh, I grabbed his hand and sat on the bed next to him. He took a breath, looking down at our hands, tightening his grip briefly. “I’m a werewolf, and before you say that’s not possible, it is. I was bit when I was a kid, and that’s why I’ve had to cancel dates last minute. That’s why I am missing from classes the day after full moons, that’s why my nickname is Moony, and that’s why I snapped. I did not want you getting hurt anymore because of me. I have already caused you pain, and the last thing I want to do is to hurt you more than I already have.” He stopped for a second, lifting his eyes to me yours. “I didn’t mean to. I have no other excuse other than the moons recently have been messing with my head. I’ve just been so snappy the last week, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have. Could you ever forgive me?”

“What happened to you?” I said quietly as I raised my hand to wipe some of the tears off one of his cheeks. He leaned into it slightly, still trying to gauge what my reaction to his confession would be. “I’ll forgive you, but I need to know what happened.”

“It was bad last night,” He laughed lightly. “I got in a fight with another wolf, and I lost.”

“You are an idiot,” I whispered. “But you’re my idiot. Just be honest, please? I don’t want to go through this again.”

~~~

HP Taglist:

@scvrllet

@fandoms-are-possessive

@dogmom2014

~~~~~

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus x y/n #remus x reader #reader x remus #remus angst #moony #remus lupin #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

Chemical Reaction - Kuroo Tetsuro

Summary: When the universe hands you a second chance, will you be able to move on from the mistakes of your past?

college!Kuroo x fem!reader

a friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers type of deal.

Warnings: some light NSFW, slow burn, aged up characters, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, fingering, cursing, and a little heartbreak. angst to fluff

Word Count: 7.3k (it goes by fast, I swear (′ꈍωꈍ‵))

A/N: Jesus... this started out as a prompt, but it snowballed into whatever the hell this is. And it was supposed to be done by Kuroo’s bday T-T but better late than never! I poured in a lil extra love into this, pls give it a shot, lmk what you think, and I hope you enjoy !

Your history with Kuroo Tetsuro went back a little bit further than you’d like to admit.

He had been in your class for all three years you were at Nekoma, but you had really only popped onto each other’s radars second year.

He had been assigned the seat next to you, and while you were upset that your best friend, Eri, had been sat all the way across the room, you didn’t exactly mind the view.

Right off the bat, you knew this was going to be trouble for you.

The guy was cute, funny, and smart. How hadn’t you noticed him before?

“Hey, L/N-chan,” he said, already making you blush with the addition of the honorific, “I have many chemistry jokes… but I’m afraid they won’t get a good reaction!”

You couldn’t stop either the face palm or the giggle that slipped out of your lips.

Kuroo was an easy person to get along with. He always greeted you in the mornings, and never really bothered you during class. On the rare occasion he stayed in the classroom for lunch, the two of you would strike up a conversation, but it never went past the surface.

Until about halfway through the school year. Your teacher had assigned a project that required a partner.

You looked to Eri, only to find the little traitor pairing up with the guy she had been eyeing since first year.

You sighed, not even mad at her for trying to shoot her shot.

“Want to be partners?” your head shot to the boy next to you.

“Uhm. Sure!”

And so it went like this; the project was due at the end of the year, requiring a research paper, and a 7 minute power point presentation.

Once or twice a week, the two of you would meet up at the school library either before school or after your club activities.

Kuroo was smart; smarter than you but you’d never say that to his face, so more often than not, the two of you would finish what needed to be done that day, and spent the rest of the time just talking, and getting to know each other.

By the third time the two of you had gotten kicked out by the librarian for laughing too much, Kuroo suggested meeting at his house on the weekends.

Surely that doesn’t mean what you think it means right???

It doesn’t, lmao. This guy was a good student, he made sure you guys finished your parts, because there was no way he was going to get anything less than an A.

Oh, you guys finished a little early today? Great! L/N-chan! Help me with my receives!

As the weeks pass by, there was a mutual progression in the relationship, neither of you seeing each other as project partners anymore, and falling into a comfortable friendship.

For Kuroo, that is. You, on the other hand, just became way too good at acting like you weren’t falling in love.

The school year is coming to a close, and you turn in your project.

Surprise, surprise! You guys got an A.

Seriously, the teacher said she was going to start using it as an example for the future students.

You couldn’t even be happy about your passing grade; you were too sad that your time with Kuroo was ending.

“Well, it was really fun being your partner this year,” you said, and Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Why do you sound like someone’s dying,” he joked, “Anyway, Kenma said he bought a new game, but it’s multiplayer. What time are you coming this weekend?”

Bitch, ya heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

For a little while, you were content with things being like that. You had become good friends with not just Kuroo, but Kenma as well. You guys weren’t always together, but definitely made a point to make time for each other.

While you guys were usually busy during the week, club activities, homework and school taking up most of your time, Saturdays at Kuroo’s had become a thing well into your third year. As much as possible, you would try to attend his games, and he would try to bring you snacks when he knows you’re stuck studying.

You tried really hard not to read into the things he would do for you.

Surely, he’s also held Kenma’s bag while walking him home, right?

He’s memorized his whole team’s schedule; it’s nothing special if he also has yours memorized.

You know that he only brought you lunch today because he had to share half of his when you forgot yours.

All normal friend stuff, right! Right?!

“I met a cute girl the other day,” he said to you absentmindedly one morning before class.

Wait. Your chest shouldn’t feel so tight, should it? Your eyes are swimming, and your head is floating. Every breath feels like lead in your lungs, and you kinda wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Oh, Really?” you tried to be nonchalant, and hoped he didn’t notice the shakiness in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah… she’s kinda funny.”

But you were really funny, weren’t you? You were the one that made him laugh like a hyena, made him clutch his stomach and gasp for breath, right?

“Is that so?” your mouth felt like sandpaper, “Why don’t you try taking her out on a date?”

You wish you had never said those words.

You knew the girl he was talking about; you had seen Kuroo approach her in the hallway.

She was your teammate in the track and field club; not one of the fastest, but she was beautiful, kind, friendly, and Kuroo was right – she really was kind of funny.

“You should have told him first, you know,” Kenma had mumbled from next to you once, eyes never leaving his game while yours quickly shot him a glare.

It was just the two of you at the lunch table – Kuroo mumbling an excuse about having plans with another “friend”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

You spend the next few weeks avoiding him; it was easier since he didn’t sit next to you in class anymore, you weren’t really replying to his texts as often, you stopped visiting him and Kenma at practice, and you had missed the game you had told them you would try to go to.

You were kind of starting to realize that it was mostly you that had to go and seek them out.

Now that you weren’t doing these things… where was he?

You would catch a glimpse of Kuroo when he would visit your teammate during practice; he would try to greet you but you’d only shoot him a tight smile.

So when you heard a loud knock on your door at eight o clock in the evening, the last person you expected was the roosterhead himself.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I could tell something was bothering you, and I’ve been trying to give you your space, but… it’s been weeks now so, I just have to know… Are you avoiding me?”

You didn’t really know what to say, if there is even anything else to. Even with your head down and eyes trained to your feet, you could feel the burn of his gaze.

“I...” the deep timbre of his voice always managed to give you chills, “I miss you.”

Is he fucking serious right now? He’s so smart, yet he can’t put two and two together? He can see his opponents’ moves before they happen, yet he can’t even see you standing right in front of him?

“I have feelings for you, Kuroo,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kuroo’s eyes widened by a fraction, his mouth slightly hung agape, dumbfounded by your seemingly random confession.

Except, it wasn’t random to you. You’ve been harboring these feelings for months, and after hurting yourself by staying silent for so long, you decided that you deserve better.

You’ll accept whatever the outcome, if that’s the price for your peace.

“Y/N…” it took him a long time to finally speak, and you try to ignore the fact that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

His face clearly showed his struggle to get the words out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I –“

You raised your hand. You didn’t really want to hear any more than that.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving him a small smile.

And with that, you shut the door on Kuroo Tetsuro.

You do your best to move on, smiling and laughing with friends you wouldn’t usually talk to you, ignoring the ghost of your past that haunt you every time you walked passed by Kuroo and your teammate down the hall.

You throw back a laugh at whatever the person next to you had said, turning away to miss the fact that Kuroo’s eyes always followed you wherever you went.

Graduation day came and in the blink of an eye, your days at Nekoma were behind you.

The days passed, the seasons changed, the flowers bloomed, and then they died.

You started university, moving to a different city and living with the very same best friend whose betrayal to quench her own thirst became the catalyst for your greatest heartbreak.

You’ve forgiven her for that though, you guess.

Life in college was the breath of fresh air that you needed.

New things to learn, new places to discover, and new faces to help you forget the scars of old ones.

Years pass by, and while you’ve allowed yourself to feel the touch of others, allow them to make you laugh, allow them to make you cry, you’ve never really allowed yourself the luxury of falling in love again.

Who has time for that any way?

Definitely not you. You just needed to finish your undergrad, and get into med school.

You had plans for your life, you weren’t going to compromise your dreams just for another person, and no matter whom you dated or how much they liked you, this fact had always rubbed them the wrong way.

You were finally starting your last year at your undergrad, quite possibly one of the most important years of college, what with your thesis, med school applications, and your entire future pretty much on the line, no big deal.

Your first class of the day was chemistry. You had been avoiding the last chemistry class required by your degree, all of your friends telling you that it was one of the hardest classes they’ve ever taken, and so naturally, you ran away for as long as possible.

The class wasn’t due to start for another fifteen minutes when you walked in, giving you a perfect opportunity to grab a seat of your liking.

You ended up choosing one in the third row – you knew that if you sat in the back, you wouldn’t pay attention.

You take out your laptop, books, and all required materials, using this free time to check any emails from your professors.

You were checking the time – 5 minutes left until class started – when you were interrupted.

“L/N-chan?”

Your feel your body stiffen up at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years.

You turn your head to your left, hoping to all the gods that maybe you were mistaken.

“Kuroo?” you said in disbelief, and oh honey… you could not believe he was standing right before you.

Kuroo seemed like he hadn’t changed at all. His hair seemed a little bit more managed, he was a little bit taller, his muscles filled out his shirt better… but he still had the same goofy smile on his face, and that undeniably mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out. “I thought you went to a university in Tokyo?”

“I did, but I transferred this year,” he said, “This university has a great marketing program.”

“I can’t believe it,” you mumble out, more so to yourself than him, “It’s been years.”

He gave you a smile. “It has.”

He took the seat next to you, much to your surprise. You almost wanted to open your mouth in protest, but what could you say? ‘You can’t sit there’?

You were thankful that the class had only gone over the syllabus, because you didn’t hear a word the professor said.

When you told Eri about it later, she just laughed.

“I always thought Kuroo-san was a nice guy,” she commented, her back turned while she cooked the both of you dinner.

“I never said he wasn’t,” you said, throwing back the rest of the wine in your glass.

“What, you still like him or something?” Eri teased, plating the noodles she had created and setting it in front of you.

“Of course not,” you grumbled, stabbing at the plate with a fork, and the amused look on Eri’s face tells you that her silence was just to placate you.

The next few weeks of the semester went by without any incident.

Kuroo stayed in the seat next to you, and you didn’t let yourself wonder why.

You were proud at yourself for being able to talk to Kuroo the way that you were; he still made the same stupid chemistry jokes in high school, but now you felt like you could laugh at them without choking on the air around you.

It was easy.

Until it wasn’t.

“Alright everyone,” your professor began one rainy morning, “We’re about halfway through the semester, and this is usually around the time I like to assign a little project.”

All of a sudden, you felt a strange feeling of déjà vu.

“Now, it’s only going to be worth about a third of your grade in the class, so I suggest not slacking off on this one. This is going to require a partner, and before you go texting your bestie that you want to ‘link up’, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning your partner for you.”

Oh, Christ. You were praying you wouldn’t get partnered up with a dead weight.

“When I call your name, raise your hand so I could introduce you to your new partner.”

You waited patiently for your name to be called, but Kuroo’s had been called first.

“Kuroo Testuro.”

Kuroo raised his hand.

“Your partner will be... let’s see here… ah, L/N F/N!”

No. No fucking way.

Your arm involuntarily raised, the professor nodding his head in acknowledgement.

You slowly turn to face Kuroo, who had an unreadable smile placed on his lips, your professor’s voice droning on in the background.

“Well,” he said, laughter laced in his words, “Isn’t this familiar?”

At first, you felt incredibly apprehensive at the thought of being partnered with your high school crush, but at the end of the day, you were actually incredibly thankful.

Kuroo was just as smart and diligent as he was back then, and you had every confidence that your project was going to get the highest grade.

You tried to make it a point to meet in public places – cafes, libraries, and the like.

But soon, Kuroo suggested that it would just be easier and more comfortable to meet at either your place or his.

He only ever came by when Eri was home too, which would have been fine if the smirk on her face didn’t make you so nervous.

You noticed that his roommate was always around when you came over as well. You learned his name was Bokuto, and though he was a little loud, his presence was actually a little comforting.

Honestly, it all felt so… nostalgic. Whenever you would finish your work for the day, then the two of you would spend the time talking, catching up, and laughing at stupid jokes, almost as if the two of you were friends again.

Almost like nothing happened between you at all.

“Hey,” you started one day, curiosity getting the better of you after a particularly steamy conversation about past relationships, sitting on the floor with your iPad on your lap and homework strewn about all over the living room floor, “Whatever happened between you and that girl from high school?”

Kuroo just gave you a sad smile, and you thought she must have broken his heart pretty badly.

“Oh that…” he waved it off, “That was a mistake. A big one.”

You figured it was better not to ask any more questions.

Eri walked out of her room soon after Kuroo left that night, her arms crossed and leaning against the door’s archway as she watched you wash the dishes.

You guys are getting pretty close,” she mused.

She couldn’t see you roll your eyes. “Well, yeah, we were pretty good friends in high school.”

Eri let out a humorless laugh. “I stand by my statement that Kuroo-san is a nice guy,” she said, walking up next to you to place a hand on your shoulder, “But I haven’t forgotten how long it took you to get over what happened.”

Your hands stilled in the soapy water for a second, but you chose not to say anything.

“I’m just saying,” Eri started to walk back to her room, calling out her last words behind her shoulder, “Be careful.”

Eri’s words echoed in your head whenever you were with Kuroo.

Every time he offered to pay for your food, you made sure to insist you’d pay for it yourself. If he tried to grab your bag from your shoulder when you walked, you’d hold on tighter and say you were fine.

You didn’t avoid him like you did before, but you made every attempt to keep him at arm’s length.

It seems your attempts were all for nothing, however, when the semester ended.

“Amazing job,” were the words that came from your professor when giving your passing grade.

“We did it,” Kuroo said happily, the two of you making your way out of the class, “It’s finally over.”

“Thank god,” you laughed back.

“Hey,” Kuroo started, though he was looking at everywhere but you, “Bokuto’s gone and visiting his boyfriend for the weekend, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over for drinks later?”

You blinked, trying to even your breathing.

“You know, to celebrate the end of the semester, and acing that nightmare class.”

You should say no, right? Wait, but you’re grown now. You’ve moved on from what happened back then. The two of you did work really hard this semester, what’s wrong with celebrating your achievements?

“I think we’ve earned it,” Kuroo laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, and you were glad for it just from the smile that spread on his stupid face, “We really have! I’ll be there.”

“See you at eight?”

You nodded at his words as he waved goodbye, going your separate ways.

Ten hours later, you were sitting next to Kuroo on his living room floor, sake cup full to the brim as BNHA plays on his TV.

“Ah, Deku’s in the hospital,” Kuroo slurred, sake sloshing out of his cup when he pointed to the screen, “That’s a shot!”

The two of you threw back the warm liquid, and you were kind of worried that it didn’t taste like anything anymore.

“Kuroo,” you laughed, “We’re only on the second episode… and I think I’ve taken, like, twelve shots at this point.”

“This was your idea!”

“Well, I have another idea,” you started to get up, causing Kuroo to get up as well, “Let’s order take out!”

He laughed at your red face, agreeing with you.

You started to make your way to the couch, but all of a sudden, you felt dizzy, a head rush taking over your senses as you stumbled over your feet.

Kuroo caught you before you could hit the floor.

“You okay?” he laughed, and the sound of it elicited a laugh from your own lips.

In a second, the two of you erupted in giggles, snickering at nothing in particular while his strong arms still held you in place.

Suddenly, you were hyperaware of his touch on your skin, and you let your eyes trail from the strong hands around your waist, to the golden honey eyes that were already staring at your face.

You can’t exactly remember how, but the next thing you knew, you were pinned under Kuroo on his bed, his soft lips moving in tandem with yours while his hot tongue took over your whole mouth.

Your arms were looped around his neck, and he slid his calloused hands up your arm.

You felt his hands grip onto your wrists before he pulled them off his necked and pinned them onto the mattress.

You took in a deep breath once he disconnected from your mouth, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw line and down to your neck, before you slid his tongue across your supple skin.

You shivered, acutely aware of the fact that he has you trapped.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your mind.

Fuck, you tried to think but it was hard when Kuroo just threw his shirt across the room, hovering over you with chiseled abs and defined muscles.

The heat returned to your body when he lowered his head, and popped a hard nipple into his mouth.

Your body arched at the feel of his teeth grazing against your skin, goosebumps racing when he dipped his hand beneath your underwear, a slender finger gliding down your folds before inserting into you.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusion, and he captured the gasp that came out of your mouth with his lips.

He was now holding down both of your wrists with one hand, never realizing that he was that much bigger than you.

He slid out his finger, bringing it to his mouth to give a long lick, before dipping his hand back down, and pushing in two.

You threw your head back when Kuroo curled his fingers, wondering how the hell he was able to find your g spot so quickly.

You felt like an animal caught in his trap, caged in with your arms pinned down, no choice but to let Kuroo draw out your orgasm while he pumped and curled into you, circling his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking while you screamed out his name, embarrassed that you were cumming so hard when he hasn’t even actually fucked you

He didn’t give you a chance to recover from your orgasm

In one swift movement, Kuroo let go of your hands and pulled out his fingers so he could grab a leg in each hand to fold you over in a press.

You don’t even know when Kuroo had taken his pants – or yours – off, and you didn’t have time to wonder.

A moan escaped your lips at the feel of his length filling you up, and you distinctly hear Kuroo tell you to say his name.

“Kuroo,” you moaned, bringing your hands to his shoulders, grasping at his body.

Every buck of his hips shot a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, unable to escape the feeling with Kuroo holding you down in place.

Who the hell would want to escape from here anyway?

“My first name,” he growled, quickening his pace when he felt your walls tighten around his dick.

“Tetsuro!” you screamed without a second thought, the brutal rhythm Kuroo has set driving heat onto your stomach, repeating his name over and over even after you feel your pussy gushing all over him, your cum dripping down from his shaft to his balls.

“Fuck,” Kuroo growled out, driving into you one last time before he spilled hot white, trying hard to catch his breath while coming down from this high.

The two of you lay together in the darkness for a while, your head on his chest and his arms around his shoulder.

The silence that surrounded the room was comfortable; almost like a bubble of peace that neither of you wanted to pop by saying anything.

“Be careful,” Eri’s fucking voice told you, yet again

While you didn’t regret what had just happened between you and Kuroo, doubts were beginning to creep in your mind.

What the hell was supposed to happen now? You’re not sure if Kuroo was expecting this outcome when he invited you over for drinks, but it happened, and you’re not really sure where to go from here.

You’ve already built a life for yourself – one that was truly yours – and you had a path that you had every intention to follow.

Would Kuroo be like every other guy and run away when he finds out you’re not compromising your plans for him? Would you even want to try to fit him into your plans?

You shake your head.

Jesus, get a grip. A guy dicks you down /once/, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about this shit?

“Y/N? You okay?” He asked from beside you.

You lift your head from his chest, sitting up so you could lean your back against his headboard. Kuroo was quick to mirror your actions.

“Kuroo,” you begin to tell him, and he frowned a little at the sound of his last name, “That was… amazing.”

Kuroo blushed a little at your compliment, though he knew it didn’t stop there. “…But?”

“But,” you bit your lip, “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, but maybe that’s because you just kept babbling. “It’s just… I have so much going on with school, not to mention grad school applications are due in a few months, and who knows which university I’ll end up going to after graduation…”

You finally had the courage to look at him, and you caught a glimpse of what you would have thought was sadness in his eyes if it hadn’t been blinked away so quickly, soon replaced with that same unreadable smile.

“Whatever you want, Kitten,” he replied, “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is.”

You let out a breath of relief.

He walked you home that night (or morning, considering it was 1am), still trying your best to set boundaries even though you pretty much let him thoroughly wreck you.

He didn’t give you a kiss goodbye, instead sheepishly waving when he sees you entering the door to your apartment, saying he’ll shoot you a text tomorrow.

You thought things would be weird between the two of you after that night, but you were happy to find that it wasn’t.

You had managed to rekindle your friendship with Kuroo – meeting up to study, grabbing lunch if you had the time, maybe catching the occasional movie.

Though, you didn’t tell Eri about the added benefits.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:37AM

You up?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:49AM

Yeah, doing my Lit. paper.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:50AM

Wanna do me instead?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:58AM

Say less.

ou didn’t have to tell Eri about the added benefits – she wasn’t dumb, where else would her roommate be going in the middle of night?

You’ve had other men before, going through your fair share of sexual experiences before climbing into bed with Kuroo.

But he was still managing to show you new things, reaching spots you never even knew existed before, putting his mouth in places that made your eyes water and lungs burn from gasping for air.

You can’t explain the feeling you get when he’s running his hands across your body, and when he stares at you and nothing but you while he’s pumping into you and making you feel so full in more ways than one, it’s something akin to a chemical reaction.

There was one time, when he took a belt, secured it against his head post before he brought your legs up to –

“Earth to Y/N,” Kuroo said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, “I was having a flashback.”

Kuroo smirked, knowing exactly what you meant.

The two of you were lying in bed, your back against his chest and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

You laid your hand on top of his, fiddling with his fingers and reveling in the calm that always came from being with Kuroo.

“What you thinking about?” You ask, and the way he stiffened up in your grip let you know that something really was bothering him.

It took him a little longer than you’d like before he replied.

“Do you ever feel like… you want more?”

This time, it was you that stilled in his arms.

“Be Careful.”

You turned around to face Kuroo.

“I thought we talked about this?”

Kuroo’s eyes searched your face, for what, you have no idea. But you stared back with just as much intensity, hoping that he would find the answer he was looking for.

Fear. That’s what was written all over your face.

Kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “Forget I said anything.”

He stood up to put his boxers on and slipping on a shirt before heading out onto the balcony that was attached to his room.

You gave him a few moments before getting up to gather your clothes from the floor, silently putting them on before you joined him outside.

You find him leaning against the balcony railing on his forearms, a cigarette lit in one hand.

He doesn’t turn his head towards you, but he does offer his cigarette, and you take it quietly.

You bring the white filter to your lips, taking a deep drag, closing your eyes when you feel your head get lighter, and releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“Kuroo,” you started, voice nothing but a soft whisper, “I’m sorry… I didn’t – “

He raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Like I said, forget I mentioned anything.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, taking his cigarette back from you and taking a drag himself, “Kenma’s having a party this weekend. They’re inviting over some old classmates from Nekoma. He says he misses you. You should come.”

Your ears perk up at the invitation, excited at the thought of seeing your old friend and a little happy that he’s moving past the subject.

"Kenma? Is having a party?”

Kuroo laughed. “Alright. Yaku is having a party, but we’re doing it at Kenma’s place. It’s actually not that far from here, just one train ride.”

You chuckled, shaking your head knowingly.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you agreed, “But, uhm… I’ll just meet you there?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. I’ll just meet you there.”

You didn’t see Kuroo the rest of that week.

You weren’t sure what it was – he wasn’t ignoring you, he replied to your text messages and answered your calls.

But he hadn’t once asked you to come over. And after what happened that night, you were scared to ask him to come over.

The night of Kenma’s party came, and you entered to find way more people than you had expected. You didn’t recognize more than half of the people there, but relief washed over you when Yaku threw an arm around your shoulder.

You didn’t see Kuroo right away when you arrived, but you were too distracted at the joy from seeing some of your old classmates.

You were half way through a game of beer pong with Lev as your partner before Kuroo was able to make an appearance.

He made his rounds, saying his greetings to everyone before stopping at you, giving you a friendly one armed hug.

You didn’t want to admit that you were a bit sad at the generic greeting.

Was it because maybe… you want…. mor –

“Y/N! Shoot the damn ping pong ball,” Lev exclaimed, and you were shook out of your reverie.

Kuroo excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to make himself a drink, but you were too focused on winning your game to notice.

Before you knew it, you lost three to two against Kenma and Yamamoto, cursing at Lev for forcing you to carry the team on your back.

By this point, the alcohol had spread all through your system. You were still able to walk straight, but with considerable effort. The words that came out of your mouth were just a little slurred, and you were kind of having a hard time controlling the volume of your voice.

“Where’s Kuroo?” you asked Yaku, who instantly shot a hand up to rub his ear.

“Jesus, woman, you don’t have to yell, I am /right here,” he grumbled, but he still let you sling an arm around his shoulders for support. “I thought he went into the kitchen to get some drinks?”

That’s right, he said that. But that was hours ago. Where could he be?

You stagger away from Yaku, pushing your way past unfamiliar bodies to get to the kitchen.

The first thing you saw when you tripped into the kitchen was Kuroo, dressed in a fitted black shirt and blue jeans, looking every bit the Greek God he was as he leaned against the counter. His arms were crossed atop his broad chest, a drink in one hand.

He was talking to someone, and you thought you recognized the long black hair that flowed from the back of their head, but were too distracted studying the veins that protruded from Kuroo’s forearms.

You opened your mouth to call out to him when the person in front of him stepped up, pressing their body into his. She uncrossed his arms and snaked two long arms around his neck.

You recognized her in that instant.

It was his ex from high school.

Looking down, you were surprised to see your clothes dry, because it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water directly on top of your head.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your head for the ten millionth time.

Yet here you were

In the same exact place you were a little over three years ago.

You scoffed at yourself.

Well, there’s nothing else for you here now, is there?

You shoot Yaku and Kenma a quick text in a group chat to let them know you were leaving.

The air outside was cold, your breath coming out in puffs. You wrapped your jacket around a little tighter, cursing yourself silently for not wearing a scarf cause it’ll ‘ruin the outfit.’

“Hey, the party’s that way.”

The sudden voice behind you nearly made you jump ten feet in the air.

“Jesus, you really are like a fucking cat.”

Kuroo chuckled.

For some reason, the sound made you angry. You kept walking, following the path of dimmed street lights that led you to the train station.

“Yeah, but home’s this way.”

His heavy footsteps trailed behind you.

“Great, I was getting tired of the party anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” You finally turned your head to him and asked.

Your voice was surprisingly clear and even, despite the unsteadiness of the ground beneath you.

“What do you mean? I’m walking you home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s late, and you’re my friend.”

‘Friend’. The word made you wince, even though you were the one that drilled the idea into his head.

“I saw you talking to your ex,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning the other direction.

You could practically feel his smirk.

“Oya? Is that jealousy I’m hearing in those words?”

You felt your face get hot.

“Of course not!”

- “I thought we were just friends?”

“Will you shut up for once in your life, idiot!”

He wanted to tease you some more, but was stopped by the pensive look on your face.

“Why would you leave the girl that broke your heart behind just to walk me home?”

Kuroo looked at you with a confused expression.

“Girl that broke my heart?”

You nodded. “When I asked you about her, you said she was a big mistake.”

Kuroo stopped walking. You turned your head back to look at him curiously when he doubled over in a full bellied laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?!” You asked incredulously, giving him a glare from where you stood.

“You... you think she’s the one that broke my heart?”

Kuroo wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Wow. That was a good one.”

“What the hell are you going on about, Kuroo?”

The jovial look on Kuroo’s face slowly faded, the entertained smile on his face shrinking his lips into a thin line.

“Y/N, she didn’t break my heart.”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“You want to know why I said she was a big mistake?” Kuroo took a step towards you, “It was because of her that I lost you.”

Your jaw dropped.

Kuroo ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the perfectly waxed locks that he had spent thirty minutes styling.

“Please don’t run away when I tell you this.”

You couldn’t move your feet even if you wanted to.

“The only reason I ever brought her up to you in the first place was because I wanted to see your reaction. I wanted to know if you would get jealous. But without hesitation, you told me that I should just go ahead and date her, and you know dumb young men and their pride... then... it just... snowballed into something I didn’t even...”

Kuroo couldn’t finish his sentence.

Your vision begins to shake.

“But... but I confessed to you!”

“Yeah, then you slammed the door in my face and stopped talking to me!”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Do you have any idea how confusing that was for a teenage boy? I had no idea what the hell was going on, one day, I blinked and I was stuck with a girl I didn’t love while I watched my best friend smile and laugh and walk passed me like I never even existed.”

You swallowed the guilty lump that was caught in your throat.

“All I knew was that you weren’t around anymore; you weren’t there to make me laugh with your dumb jokes, you weren’t coming over and leaving your presence all over my room, nothing, it was all gone, and it all felt so fucked up. Being without you felt so fucked up.”

Had Kuroo always felt this way? Were you really so busy running away from him that you couldn’t even see that he was hurting too?

“Now the universe or the gods or whatever brought me back to you, and it’s like everything makes sense again, and fuck, all I want to do is just show you how much I’ve missed you, how much I care, how much I love you.”

You gasped, and you were waiting for Kuroo to try and take those words back, but the resolve was painted in his eyes.

“But all you do is just keep me at arms length. You wanted to be just friends when I wanted everything.”

You choked back a sob, tears were now steadily streaming down your face.

Kuroo closed the space between you, wrapping one arm around your waist while bring his other head to wipe at your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“She wasn’t the girl that broke my heart. You were.”

He moved to place his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to force you to look at his eyes.

He wanted you to see that he meant every single word.

“If this is all you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it. I’ll break my own heart. Every day, over and over again, if that’s what it takes to be with you.”

His voice was in a whisper now, bringing his lips to kiss both sides of your cheeks.

“Because I love you.”

He brought his hands to cup for your face before pulling you in for a kiss.

This wasn’t anything like you’ve ever experienced before.

Every time his tongue brushed against yours, you felt all the love adoration he was trying to convey in this one physical act, hoping he could transfer it all into your lips.

It felt like time stopped just for the two of you, to have this moment in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in the orange glow of the street light that hung above you.

He pulled away finally, resting his forehead on yours for just a second before he engulfed you with his arms.

His head rested on top of yours, feeling the vibrations as he spoke.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said nervously. “Do you want something more?”

You wiggle out of his grip just so you can move your hands up to caress his cheek.

“Tetsuro... I love you so much.”

Later that night, in the safety of your room and away from Eri’s judgmental eyes at the two of you stumbling in and giggling through the door, you trace small circles on Kuroo’s chest with your fingers while Kuroo had an arm wrapped around you tightly.

“Hey, Tetsu,” you broke the silence with a whisper, “What if I end up going to grad school that was... further away?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. You were never going to change.

Not like he would ever want you to.

“Y/N... we didn’t talk for three years, and not once did I stop thinking about you. A little distance isn’t going to get rid of me.”

You try to bury your face in embarrassment.

If he had to spend every day of the rest of his life reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what, well - that’s just too easy.

You find yourself holding onto him a little bit tighter, making a silent vow that never again were you going to push away Kuroo Tetsuro.

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let-me-luve-you · 3 years

Text

Home Schooled

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: The pandemic changes up your school schedule and Tom uses it as a way to help you with your dyslexia and struggle with school

Warnings: Dyslexia, Struggle with school, angst, fluff, sweet and caring Tom.

A/N: I hated school growing up. I would cry when I did homework and I would fight my mom on it because no matter how much I tried, I never got it. So this is based on my experience and how I wanted someone to be there for me that got it.

MASTERLIST

BUY ME A COFFEE?

School was hard. You would study for hours and not be able to retain anything. You would read the words on the page and have to go back and read it again. Once Tom was diagnosed with dyslexia, Nikki and Dom had all of their kids tested. When you were six, you were diagnosed with it as well.

Tom was sixteen when you were diagnosed and he understood the hardships that came with it. Now that he is 24, he has learned how to work with the struggles of reading. You’re fourteen and starting high school. When Tom was home, he saw the frustration. He saw the abandoned homework. He heard his parents talking about your low scores. With school being online due to the pandemic, he knew that you would be struggling even more.

Tom talked with Nikki and Dom about you staying with him during lockdown. He wanted to keep an eye out on you and help you with your homework. Nikki and Dom still had to do work from home so they wouldn’t have the time to just sit with you during classes and homework to help you. Nikki reluctantly agreed.

You were excited to spend this time with your brother. You knew staying at his house was going to be a lot more fun than your parents. Tom had you pack a couple of bags since no one knew how long you would be there. He made sure you grabbed everything you would need. He put you in the guest room that was next to his room. He set your suitcase down next to the closet.

“Come on. You can unpack in a bit.” He said, grabbing your attention. “I want to show you something.” You followed Tom out of the room and back down the stairs. He led you to his office and walked in. You reluctantly followed, wondering what surprise could be in here. When you looked up, you saw a second desk pushed into the corner.

“What’s this?” You asked, confused.

“I wanted you to have a space where you could do your work.” He said. “With Haz, Tuwaine, and Harry, it can get kind of loud in the main room. This way you can do your zoom classes here and your homework.” You smiled at him, “Thanks Tom.” You said.

He nodded and walked towards the closet. He opened it up and you saw his filing system, some old clothes, and a new storage container. “You still like to draw, paint, and do other crafts don’t you?” He asked. You smiled and nodded. “Good. I got you some stuff. Figured if you are in need of a break from school or us, you could come in here and do your thing.” He opened the closet door more and you saw some canvases of different sizes leaned up against the wall.

“Wow. Tom. Thank you.” You looked up at your big brother and smiled. “You didn’t have to do this though.”

“I know. I wanted to. I love your art and I know you love to do it. School was already hard for you and now with it being home school, I wanted you to be able to do what you love to wind down. When you start to run low on something, let me know and I will order you more.”

You smiled and hugged Tom. You ran out of the room to get your school bag and laptop. You wanted to set up your desk before your first zoom class tomorrow. Tom went to his desk and played around on the computer. He smiled as he watched you get excited about the small thing he did.

The next day, you had to be in your zoom class at nine. Tom woke you up at eight to eat breakfast and to log on early in case there were any problems. He sat at his desk working on the script him and Harry were writing. Tom didn’t want to hover but wanted to be close in case you needed help.

“Thanks for doing all this for me. And thank you for sitting here with me while I’m in my class.” You said before your class started. Tom smiled at you, “it’s no problem y/n/n.”

As your teacher talked, Tom listened in. He wanted to know what assignments you had to do, but he also wanted to know what you were learning so he could help. After sitting at the desk from nine to lunch going from one class to the next, you finally had a break. You went into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Since Tom has been so helpful to you, you decided to make him lunch too. You would have asked, but he was deep in concentration while working on the script.

“Thanks.” Tom said, still typing as you sat the sandwich in front of him.

You went back to the kitchen and started eating yours. When two o’clock rolled around, you went back to your desk and got ready for the final three classes of the day. Thankfully you would be done by four and you only met twice a week. Bad news was, you knew Tom would want you to do your homework as soon as you were off zoom.

The classes flew by. Tom left the room shortly into the first one. He needed to get some house chores done and he needed a break from the computer screen. When he walked back in he saw you closing the zoom meeting. He walked up to you and started to massage your shoulders.

“Come on. Let’s go play and run Tessa in the backyard. Then we can start some of your homework.” Tom said walking out of the room.

“Some?” You asked.

“Yeah. Some. It’s not all due tomorrow. You should pace yourself with it so you don’t get overwhelmed. I heard your teachers. They said all the work you do this week is due Sunday night. You can do some this evening and then you can do more tomorrow. You have classes again now Wednesday right?”

You nodded as you picked up a tennis ball and threw it for Tessa to fetch.

“Okay. So since the classes are just going over everything you are doing this week, let’s just take our time with it. If we start in the mornings and work until lunch and then if need a couple of hours after lunch, you should be done with all the work Friday morning. That gives you the rest of the day and the weekend to relax.” Tom said as he sat down next to you on the patio steps.

“How do you know this?” You asked.

“I’m just estimating.” Tom said. You shook your head, “No I mean, how do you know how to do this? And why do you care so much?”

“Because I’ve seen you struggling with school. I want you to do well. And believe it or not, I struggled too. You may not think you are, but you’re just like me when I was in school. You need breaks. You need someone close by. You need to do something that doesn’t require you to think to help calm down. You don’t need distractions. When you get those things, you seem to do better. I did.”

“Is that why you sat in the room this morning? So I wasn’t alone?” You asked.

“Partially. I also wanted to know what you were learning and what you were doing with assignments. I will sit in there as much as you want me to. I may not be able to do that everyday, but I will try.” Tom said.

“You’re the best big brother ever, you know that right.”

“I don’t want you to go through what I did. Plus, you are going through something that none of us had to, you have to do online schooling while on lockdown. That’s tougher than anything, and since I’m not really working right now, I want to use my time to be there for you.” Tom said wrapping an arm around you.

“Thanks Tom. I’m glad you are here for this.” You said leaning into him.

“Of course. Now Tessa looks tired. Let’s go do some of your math homework.” Tom said standing up and holding a hand out to help you. You groaned as you took his hand.

“Letters don’t belong in math. It just makes it harder to read.” You said.

“I know. That’s why I’m going to sit with you. Want to work on it at your desk or at the kitchen counter since you’ve been in that room all day?”

“Kitchen. That way when I get mad at question three, I can take it out on Harry.” You joked. Tom laughed. “Go get your work. I’ll get us a snack and some drinks.”

For the first time in forever, you were actually excited about doing your school work. You finally felt like someone understood you and what you were going through. You had hope that you could actually get some passing grades. As much as you loved the rest of your family, they just didn’t get it. When they tried to help you, they just made you feel more stupid. Tom understood though. He fought this battle. And he did it while trying to become an actor too. If he can get through it, so can I. You skipped into the kitchen with your math assignment and book and smiled at Tom as you sat by him. Maybe, just maybe, you would get your first A since kindergarten.

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smutandfluffohmy · 4 years

Text

His Sweater #3

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!reader A/N: I shared my story on TikTok and thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🥺 It really means the world to me 💕 I was going to cut this up to two different parts because its so longggg but I thought I should post it as one since it was supposed to be posted over the weekend.

Read it from the beginning Part 1 Here

Looking for part 2? Look no further

I had snow in my shoe, a hexed Gryffindor robe and George Weasleys sweater if all but the snow I would count this as a successful day. Walking to the Slytherin common room felt ages away and by far something I wasn’t looking forward to.

“Draco can you please stop crying.” I huffed looking around the common room at a bunch of Slytherins angrily pointing at their hexed robes they haven’t bothered to change back, I suppose it fueled their anger and made them forget their terrible Quiddith match or maybe they were just enjoying mocking Gryffindor students.

“I’m not crying I’m just angry.You should’ve seen Potters smug face wh-” Draco was yelling and probably shaking a finger at me just like my nan, but today has been far too long for me to stick around for yet another of his Potter rants.

Changing out of my unforgiving cold clothes I put on blue pajamas. Now these were sneaking around the castle at 3am appropriate, not that I intended to get up that early again but it was nice feeling that this time I had at least prepared. Georges sweater sat on the edge of my bed, it looked so lonely sitting there, the room wasn’t cold but I think I lied to myself that it was just enough to justify wearing his sweater to bed. I smelt like George Weasley, it smells exactly like the amorentia I brewed earlier today. I wonder what George smells? And if I could buy a perfume that smells like that, perhaps I could trick him into liking me that way.

But those are horrible thoughts to be having of a day-old friend.

My morning was uneventful and I was grateful for the much needed peace and quiet from a hectic year. The library was as quiet as always, books silently whizzing over my head rearranging themselves with a silent thump here and there.

Fred sat down loudly on the chair next to me, the box in his hand clanging loudly against the wooden desk making me jump. “That sweater really brings out your eyes. Where’d you get it?” Fred laughed bumping his shoulder to mine making me nudge George’s shoulder.

My face went red at the sudden contact as if I wasn't wearing his sweater. “Piss off Fred.” Fred Weasley didn’t know how to whisper nor how to act around people he just met these two things I knew for sure.

“So we wanted to run this idea by you” George said reaching over me to get the box Fred had placed on the table.

Fred leaned on the table leaning against his arms to look over at his brother. “George beings a boring bellend. Talk some sense into him will ya.” George leaned over just like Fred, the 8 chair table seemed too small and it turns out Fred isn't the only that had issues with personal space.

Fred proceeded to tell me about the plan and George swore that Fred and Fred alone thought this all up. Which Fred answered that George was a fool that was loosing his sense of humor due to his old age. Ten minutes, 3 head flicking fights and one terrible plan later had me wondering how they had gotten as far as they did without seriously injuring someone.

I was afraid going against them would mean the end of our friendship but they want to put bertlys barfs and boils on the dinners feast but I for one did not want to wash off a third years barf from my robes.

I breathed in looking over at George to see if he was just as excited as Fred was, brown eyes met mine and for a flash I forgot what I was looking for. “That’s literally poisoning people.” I told Fred who's face fell at my shocking answer but George beamed from behind me, reaching over and draped his arm over me smiling at his brother.

Fred looked from George to me and then around the library looking around for someone that would agree to making an entire school sick to their stomach was anything but a horrible ideas. Unlucky for us he found it in the form of a ghost hiding frogs behind a set of books “Peeves what do you think?” Fred called out waving him over like an old friend.

Peeves stopped what he was doing walking over to us.His hat framing the sides of his face, his shoes gave off a slight jingle with every steep and his face lighting up at seeing us “I think it’s brilliant! While you’re at it I suggest putting some on the old professors food. Make it a party!” He said stepping on top of the table kicking some of the papers I was working on around, some of the scrolls rolling across the wooden floor.

Fred clapped his hands on the table smiling up at Peeves “Finally someone that understands!” and with that Peeves stepped off the table further kicking my potions assignment further around the library surely to be tossed or lost forever.

Sighing I looked over at Fred who's face never wavered “Can’t just have it change peoples hair color? You know not unknowingly make them violently ill.” I said looking back at George for some support something he was already giving me with a loopy smile as if he just drank 4 pints of Firewhisky.

Scrunching my eyebrows at him he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. Nodding his head making his hair move in all sort of directions, I wonder if it was as soft as it looked. “I kinda don’t want to see boils popping on the French toast.” George said shrugging his shoulders at his brother, I was still blissfully over aware that his arm was slung over my shoulders

Throwing his head back slumping down on his chair with an overly dramatic sigh he closed his eyes “Fine fine we’ll think it over.” Fred said waving us away, to where he wanted us to disappear I don’t know and frankly I didn't care enough to ask.

As it turned out there was no prank that year. The laughter we had anticipated was pushed to the side with George and Fred gathering money for the new joke shop they talked so fondly about. The laughter was later completely forgotten at the news of Cediric Diggorys untimely passing.Our secret joke meetings got replaced with hospital wing visits looking after Harry and Ron who had picked fights with what seemed like all of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was always there with us and sometimes their other friends stopped by with plants or books or snacks they thought they might enjoy during their stay.

We didn't know what was worse you-know-whos reappearance or the fact that people thought Harry killed Cedric himself for a stupid trophy in a stupid game that Dumbledore wasn’t bright enough to not let a 15 year old Harry participate in. The year ended and while I was sad to not see George nor Fred for a while, I was glad we no longer had to pull apart fights and mend bruises.

The summer consisted of writing letters to Fred and George, well mostly George. It was not just because I liked him but also because Fred had awful hand writing, that at times it made me question if I even knew how to read at all. I occasionally asked them how Ron was doing, if Harry was doing any better and if Hermione still looked at Ron fondly. I still wore Georges sweater around the house that I was not permitted to leave from and more often than not I got teased on my crush on the Weasley boy from my mother, father, brother and sister-in-law who seemed to have no other entertainment besides teasing me.

The days were long and our boredom filled the house. I was more than glad when the school year began once again. Sitting in the train cart with Draco and his friends who my family asked me to keep a close eye on as they feared they might stray somewhere horrible. I didn't have the heart to tell them I suspected they already had, so I was stuck with Draco and his never ending Harry Potter rant.

“You know Draco I think the only person that talks about Harry as much as you do is Ginny.” I said, which caused him to turn an awful shade of red. The remainder of the trip was left in silence which I was thankful for. Stepping into the grand hall I looked around for Fred and George who to no-ones surprised were whispering between the two of them.

Pushing past other students I was finally in front of the boys I spent all summer writing to. They seemed to have gotten taller and their hair had gotten shorter. “Fred! George I missed you!”I said grabbing them down into a hug which they returned just as quickly as they broke it off.

“Sorry gotta run.” Fred said smiling down at me ruffling my hair. Embarrassed I tried to flatten it down in an effort for it to regain it’s original place.

“Places to be.” George said following his brother, I reached over yanking him back. Perhaps they had things to do, what things could be done in the first day back I don’t know but I was hurt they were leaving me behind without as much as a hello tossed my way.

“Wait your sweater!” Was all I could say as I pushed his neatly folded sweater that said ‘I thought about the way the sleeves are folded because I like you but I didn’t think enough about it for you to worry’ towards him. Hesitantly he reached over placing his hand on top and bottom of the sweater, his fingers grazing mine, being awfully gentle like it could fall apart right then in there in the great hall.

He smiled at him making my heart jump “Oh thanks I was looking for it all break.” he said rather confidently for a lie, I wrote him every week asking if I should send it over but every week it seemed to be too hot or too rainy or too blue out for a sweater to be delivered via owl. “Here can you hold this for a bit.Thanks you’re a life saver.” He said tugging off the sweater he already had on and tugging it over my head. I was left with frizzy hair, alone and with George Weasleys sweater once again.

The year was going awful and I wondered if it was all just one big nightmare caused by a faulty potion in Professor Snape's class. Unfortunately it was not and we were in fact left with a highly dressed up and highly pink toad of a woman being our professor.

“Eyes up front children. There will be no speaking out of turn in my classroom.” Professor Umbridge said as she continued on with her lesson in the defense against the dark arts, a field that while highly skilled she refused to prove it. A sentiment that had the gracious opportunity to fill my ear when I was helping Professor Snape grade papers earlier that day.

The days seemed somehow longer than they did over the summer, perhaps it was the ridiculous amount of reading or perhaps it was because Fred and George had agreed amongst themselves that I no longer existed.

A head of red hair passed by and at that moment I swore it was my favorite color “Ron!” I called out running to catch up with him, he tensed up his shoulders before turning to look at who had called me.

“Bloody hell woman you almost killed me.” He said clutching his robes just over the place his heart was, well at least would be if it was not in fact on the other side. Perhaps I was a bit too thrilled to had finally made at least one of the Weasley stay long enough to speak to me.

“Oh hello Hermione I haven't seen you in a while!” That was in fact a lie I haven't seen her at all but it seemed like a polite thing to say at the time “Ron If you see your brothers ca-”

“Y/n why don’t you just try acquainting yourself with decent people? Not of the likes of Weasleys and mudbloods.” Draco said from behind me, Ron turned red much like he did when he was about to fight and Hermione scrunched her nose balling her fist as if she was about to take a swing and Draco.

I felt awfully silly picking a fight with a boy that I passed charms notes to earlier that day.But I could not help but feel the dread that washed over Hermione Granger when he called her a mudblood, a girl who's potions paper I gave a perfect mark to minutes earlier. “Oh like who? You? Push over little daddies boy?” I said standing tall looking at him.The way he said Weasley filled me with more anger than the way he called Hermione Granger a mudblood a sentiment I felt awful for feeling.

Dracos face twisted in an awful expression that made me wish I drank whatever liquid courage they fed Gryffindors. “Watch who you’re talking to!”

“No you watch it Draco.”I said taking a stride closer towards him, our shoes nearly touching and my legs slightly shaking. “Does your mum approve of the things you do?” I said to him only loud enough for him to hear it.

His face dropped before getting a scowl once more “Don’t talk about my mother.” he said with a sneer.

“Don’t give me a reason to.Now get out of here before I make you regret it.” I warned, an empty threat, as empty as they come but Draco did not know enough about me to call my bluff. With a sneer and a swish of a cape he walked away and I was glad I could finally wipe the sweat off my palms on my robe.

The shoes stepping towards me made me tense as I suddenly became aware that I had in fact almost fought a child in front of two other children. A gentle hand was placed on my stiff shoulder instantly making them drop.“Are you alright?” Hermione asked which a nod was all I could answer her with.

I didn’t answer her, afraid my voice would shake and give Draco the satisfaction he got done over on me “Holy shit I feel like I’m going to throw up.” I said once he was out of sight, I joked with being placed in Gryffindor before but for the first time I realized something the sorting hat knew all along. I was in fact empty of courage.

“That was amazing I’ve never seen someone stand up to that git Malfoy like that.” Ron mused smiling as he threw a finger at Dracos back, his smile soften when he saw the awful color mine was. “A-and I’ll make sure to tell George and Fred to stop being such idiots.”

The rest of the day passed without much anything of note, except every slam and quick movement filled me with dread thinking that Malfoy came back for another squabbling match. When the two chairs besides me got pulled out I was worried I was in for a beating and started wondering were a bunch of children would take the piss out of me. Instead George and Fred sat besides me, the rest of the study table giving them odd looks as they all concluded the Weasleys and I were no longer in speaking terms.

“You’re talking to me now?” I said turning back to my herebology book that was rather bland and focused on an smear on the page to fain interest in.

George leaned over placing his head down on the table in an effort to get me to pay attention, but all he did was look like a git. A git that made my heart swell but most importantly a git over anything. “Look we’re sorry a lot of things have been happening and well we’re just part of something.” He said placing his hand over the pages of the book.

“Top secret something.” Fred said leaning into me.

“Dumbledores army? I’ve heard” I whispered to them in an actual proper whisper something they had no knowledge in.

“Ye- how’d you know?” George said closing the textbook infant of me, looking from me to his brother to the other people in the table that had absolutely no interest into what they could be planning now.

I shrugged “Freds shit at whispering.”

“Perfect then you're caught up on everything. So we made this extendable ear and we wanted to run it by you.” Fred said digging out a torn up ear from his pocket and acting like I didn't just say that I knew about a top secret after school club.

“Hold up I never said I forgave you twats”

“You want me to get on my knees? I’ll get on my knees.”

“No George that-” I started to say shaking my head.

“Please come back to us ,our sad little hearts have a y/n shaped holes.” George said getting on his knees, in front of me with people looking at us as if we lit a garbage on fire.

My face turned red as I tried to drag him up to his feet to no avail “Get up.” I said between tugs as Fred laughed on and I can’t tell if that made it better or worse.

“I’m on my knees begging for you to take me back.” George said a bit more loudly with every word, in any other context I would be flattered over the moon in fact. But the snickers and Snape walking towards us made me reevaluate the flattery and George Weasley as a whole.

“Fine I forgive you now get up people are staring.” I said and with that George got up, not because he was embarrassed or because Snape came with a text book up in arms to hit us over the head with but because he just wanted to hear that I forgave him.

Everything seemed to be looking up, there was no sign of you-know-who, Ginny punched the Ravenclaws that were giving Luna Lovegood a hard time in the face, there had been less rain than expected and George, Fred and I were now friends once more. Perhaps all was not good Umbridge was still there in her twisted demented Elle Woods impersonation and Filch could not stop being tragically in love with Umbridge, at times I wonder if I was the Filch in George and I’s situation.

The D.A.D.A class came to an end, a time I thought had forgotten about us. I was packing up my bags, grabbing the text books a manicured handed stopped me.

“Can you come with me to my office?” Umbridge said in more of a demand than a request, nodding my head I followed her to her office. Perhaps I expected a lair or to see Oswald Mosley and Jack the ripper having a cup of tea over the fire but all I got was what looked like the inside of my nan’s house.

“Lovely room. I have a cat myself.” I said, a shiver going down my spine as at least a hundred cats meowed and purred down on me from their strategically placed spots. I loved my cat but I wondered if I could ever love this as much as this, perhaps it was not love at all.

Clapping her hands together she smiled at me “I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you” Umbridge said with a tight smile and while she stood in all her glory in bright pink I don't think it was meant as a compliment. “I called you here because I’ve heard from some of your housemates you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd with those Weasel bo-”

“Weasley.” I said too confidently for someone that was sitting on a chair that had a picture of a kitten on it.

“I beg your pardon” She stopped smiling her tight lipped smile.

“It’s Weasley not weasel ma’am.” I suspected that she knew that but wasn’t particularly interested in it. She gave out a laugh that sounded like it had been squeezed out of her which by the look in her face I suspect it had.

“Oh did I say that? A slip of the tongue I suppose. As I was saying we’re all worried about you my dear, I suspect doing a few lines will help us clear this up.” She said tapping the piece of parchment paper that sat alone in the desk. “Write “I must not stray’ to help you remember where you truly belong.” A bit on the nose and tacky but I wasn't the one that drank tea out of cups laced with cat fur ,perhaps it had all gone to her head or maybe all adults were this pretentious.

“I’m afraid I didn't bring my quill.” I said over the sea of meows, when I said this she smiled a genuine smile this time.

“No need to worry I have it all set up for you.” She said placing a quill in front of me ever so delicately.

“Thank you Ma’am. How many lines am I to write?”

“I suspect till you feel it sink in dear.” She said once agains laughing, her hands place neatly and delicately in front of her. She smiled with teeth that was some how more intimidating than her tight lipped smile. I did not know how to tell her she had pink lipstick on her teeth.Picking up the quill I noticed there was no ink and I silently saluted the Wizarding world for discovering the amazing muggle creation that are pens.

I should’ve known that these old gits didn’t update to pens, I should’ve known when she smiled at me, I should’ve known when she stood besides me watching me write lines. A lot of should’ves weren't going to erase the burning wound that was not on my arm for an undisclosed amount of time.

‘I must not stray’ I couldn’t see it but I could feel it burn against the sweater, the robes, the air itself seemed to be conspiring on making the cut ache. Having my arm at a certain angle made it

“I brought you a hot chocolate.” George said appearing out of no where, it was almost comical and a bit concerning how no matter where I was George and Fred could always find me.

“What for?” Looking down at the cup in his hands I wondered besides hot chocolate what else would be in it.

George smiled “What I can't be a good friend? Bring you a hot drink on a cold night like this?” He said scooting a bit closer to me, I was suddenly overly aware of where my arm was placed.

Fred sat down besides me with a blue box on his lap “And we wanted to see if you could try some of our new skydiving snacks boxes.”

“And what if I die?”

“Well then we’ll miss you terribly.” Fred said placing a sad hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t let you die.Now open up.” George smiled beckoning me to open up which I did, if I were to trust anyone to hand fed me it would be against my better judgment George Weasley. His face dropped a bit and the gag snack never reached my mouth “What’s wrong with your arm?”

My face drained of color as I looked at him “Nothing. I thought you wanted me to try your parachute snacks.”

“Skydiving. Come on we’re your best mates show us.” Fred said, in a tone that was unlike his own not a hint of sarcasm and only of pure worry. A tone I’ve only heard after a particularly nasty fall Ron had while playing quidditch.

They made a fuss. Well it was mostly George that seemed a bit unhinged by the scar and Fred shifted between asking me if it hurt and telling George to calm down. It took hours, countless ‘I’m alright’s’ and a few ‘she can’t get to me that easily’s’ to calm George down enough to even begin to talk about what they had also came looking for me for.

“So here’s the plan.” Fred started, while George began wrapping my arm up with bandages he carried for this occasion however I doubted he thought he would be bandaging me up. Fred continued talking between George’s ‘are you okay?’ and ‘Are you sure it doesn't hurt?’. Even when I was all bandaged up George still held on to my arm.

“Hmmm.” I hummed once Fred finished telling me the plan.

He knew well enough to trust me with the pranks but something about me Fred thought funny to test me “Hmm?” he imitated me.

“Can you make something eat her?” I said waving my hand over the propped notebook he had in his hands.

“Like a troll?” Fred thought about it but not before looking at me with equal parts respect and as if I had completely off the rails. Nodding “Yea but made of fireworks?” I said. ‘Better make it a real one’ George murmured besides me, not only did he have a pout forming, playing around with my fingers but I was also surprised to know that at least one of them knew how to whisper.

Scratching his head Fred looked over the notebook, I wondered if they had a section dedicated to this hell I wonder if anyone but Fred could decipher the utter chicken scratch he had on there. “Blimey I know we’re brilliant but give us some room to breathe” breathing out some air Fred skimmed through the notes “What about a dragon? I reckon we can do a dragon.” Fred spoke more to himself, I doubt he meant for us to answer and I didn't even had the knowledge to answer it.

“Wait you have to take me with you guys.” I said a bit too forceful, a bit too instant and a bit too excited.

“Don’t be ridiculous you're a bloody good witch, you belong here.” George countered, startling me a he broke his silent grieving, perhaps he was afraid that the plan would back fire and they would be in for a punishment worse than writing lines.

“Screw that let’s go you can sweep around the shop.” Fred laughed ignoring his brother glares that I could feel burning the side of my face.

I wasn’t too fond of agreeing with Fred but having one of them on board was better than none “I’ll invest in your shop. I heard my parents talk about a spot in Diagon Alley, I think we can get a good price” I talked far too quickly and far too excitedly, perhaps to get ahead of them backing up on their half promise.

“An investor? You’re still going to have to clean around the shop, in a maids outfit I reckon you know for ambiance.” Fred laughed poking George shoulder when he mentioned the maids outfit, as much as I would do to make George happy I don't think I could go as far as dressing up as a maid in what I suspect is anything but a propers maid uniform.

George shook his head “We can’t take her with us Fred she can't just drop out of school l-” He said and while they argued all the time this was the first time George had been serious about it, and I finally understood the angry George he told me he said he was.

“Bite me George I’m coming with you. I wasn’t even supposed to attend this year.” I said my best trying to defuse the situation.

“Yea bite her George she’s coming with us. Wait you weren’t supposed to attend this year? What couldn't resist us?” Fred smiled flexing his arms and running his hand through his hair, an act that I’m sure nobody but himself thought of as sexy.

“My parents heard you-know-who was coming back and insisted I go somewhere else but I know Gryffindors and especially you two gits are just filled with courage and being the biggest sniffling idiots. I just had to make sure you stayed alive long enough for-”

“For?” George said interrupting me, as if the next word out of my mouth was not going to be that very explanation.

“For me to see you two again.” I said playfully bumping their shoulders, careful to mind my arm.

“Yack you’re such a sap.Come on we got things to plan” Fred said taking out parchment paper to make adjustments for their plans, George stared at me as if I had something particularly interesting on my face and for a moment I wondered if I did.

Packing up the last of the fireworks I checked and double checked we in fact were carrying hundreds of working fireworks.Snaps and crackles sounded through the hallways as Fred,George and I dropped and tossed fireworks. I held on the George because I unlike them didn't know how to ride a broom and being far too short on time to be thought how to do so.

Fire works went off below us, crashing into the room were O.W.L.S were being taken confused students and an equally confused Umbridge looked up at disbelief at us. Fireworks twisted and turned and exploded everywhere.

George and Fred highfived each other on passing as the cheers below us began getting drowned out by the deafening noise. I could hardly contain my excitement as a series of fireworks went off, shifting closer to George I looked over his shoulder waiting for the big reveal.A dragon of a hundred glowing fireworks went off as it snapped at Umbridge who was yelling trying to outrun it.

Umbridge who as I suspect could be spotted from miles away in her pink dress and pink shoes covered in black powder waved and shook her fist at us, grabbing up at the air in efforts to drag us back down.

“Give her hell from us Peeves!” The twins called out and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw him give them a bow.

Turning my head to look at Peeves for what I suspect to be the last time, I wanted to wave goodbye to him. But I was far too off the ground and far too scared to wave instead I hopped he knew that I would despite him dropping a slug in my drink would in fact miss him very very much.

Hogwarts quickly became smaller and smaller. I see why they were considered great at quidditch I felt like I was flying through time at the probably criminal speed they were going.

“What’s the plan now Weasley?” I said looking up at him. He looked as if his face was being pulled back and I found it ridiculous that I was still in fact smitten by it.

He shrugged his shoulders yelling over the loud wind “Reckon we got to get married now don’t think you’ll get into another school.”

Nodding my head I laughed, I wasn’t sure as to what exactly was the joke or if I had laughed before the punchline but nevertheless I laughed. “I guess you’re right. You think Fred would marry me?”

“Ye- What no.Not Fred he’s a git. You should marry me” George smiled and said as if where the sanest and most normal thing anyone could say to their friend. My stunned silence made his confident smile flatten a tad as he stumbled trying to back track or perhaps he was thinking of just pushing me off the broom at this rate. “You know for business purposes we already came up with the name and I’d feel awful not including you.” He reasoned with me, if this was his idea of reasonable I was extremely worried about what he thought as unreasonable.

“Merlin Weasley at least take me on a date before you try marrying me.” My words came out shaky and I could feel my heart pounding, I wonder if George could feel it pounding against his back.

“I can do that.” He said turning to briefly face me, perhaps I’ve died and gone to heaven or perhaps I have misunderstood this situation.

“Finally for fucks sake.” Fred scoffed from above us, I knew I was in fact very much alive because Fred would not be in my idea of heaven humming disco songs as he rode his broom.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #Fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader

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polishksiezniczka · 3 years

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Monsignor | Camerlengo Patrick McKenna x Reader

You meet il camerlengo for the first time at Mass, and he soon becomes captivated by you.

My first full-length oneshot! Sort of a slow burn but with some delicious fluff at the end. Please let me know if you have any requests or ideas for future works! 1.8k words

You had recently moved to Rome, your next diplomatic assignment being the US Embassy to the Holy See. The new challenges of your position were taxing, but you were proud of the work you did for your fellow citizens.

Being the good Catholic you were, you went to Mass as often as you could. And when in Rome—which boasted more than 900 churches—it was your goal to visit as many as you could. Although you had been living in the city for only a week or two, you had visited several parishes closer to your apartment to see if one appealed to you.

Today you decided to go to St. Peter’s Basilica for early morning service, hoping the crowds wouldn’t be as large. Aware of the Vatican’s strict dress code, you decided on a lovely vintage chiffon dress you had recently scored at a chic consignment shop. Its light coral color brought out the Y/E/C hues in your eyes, and it elegantly graced your figure while still leaving much up to the imagination. You paired it with sensible pumps and a loose white cardigan. You were feeling springlike today, it being a warm Sunday in April.

While you had visited the Vatican several times already on official diplomatic visits, you hadn’t yet as one of the faithful. As you silently made your way to the chapel, you marveled at the beautiful art surrounding you—the work of masters.

You chose to sit near the center aisle a few rows from the altar. The chapel quickly began to fill up; in a matter of minutes, you were surrounded by a trio of devout Italian nonne, clad in all-black, and a gaggle of starry-eyed Korean tourists.

As the processional music began, you felt your body ease into a state of peace. The ancient rituals of the Church always soothed you; they had not changed since you were a child and so provided a sense of comfort amidst an unpredictable world. You sang along, losing yourself in the beautiful melody.

When the hymnal ended, you lifted your gaze from your songbook to the altar. Your heart stopped as your eyes fell upon him—quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

He was young, no more than 40 years of age. His hair was a rich auburn color, swept neatly into a well-groomed combover; you couldn’t help but admire how perfectly it framed his handsome face. His eyes, a lovely shade of blue, were mesmerizing. They reminded you of cerulean pools, clear and bright. His brows were furrowed in concentration, making him appear serious. His jawline was set in a strong, dignified way, sloping attractively down to his chin; there you could just make out a slight cleft. For all you knew, he was one of the marble statues carved by the same masters who had designed the basilica you were standing in.

Who was this man? That’s Father to you! you scolded yourself. You were in Church. And not just any Church—the Church! You tried to suppress your nascent infatuation, but you quickly succumbed to it, your eyes selfishly dragging down the rest of the priest’s body. He wore a white surplice over his black robes, highlighting the alluring musculature of his shoulders. His collar was a burst of white at the base of the column of his throat. His hands were clasped together in prayer in front of his chest, and you watched his eyes squeeze in concentration as he prayed along silently with the cardinal who stood beside him. His whole demeanor radiated safety, comfort, and protection.

You couldn’t help but stare, the chants of the prayer fading into the background. You couldn’t even look away. Even when he turned to look at you. You observed his eyes widening ever so slightly, his brow arching in curiosity. Regrettably, he seemed to catch himself after a few seconds, quickly averting his eyes away from you and back to his superior. The moment was so brief, you seriously doubted its authenticity. But there he was.

Mass passed by in a haze, your attempts at concentration all but shot. You tried to restrain yourself, but somehow your gaze always settled on him. It wasn’t until the pews ahead of you began to slowly shuffle toward for Communion that you momentarily became sensible again. As you stood and made your way toward the altar, your hands began to perspire. You ran through the expected response over and over again, worried you might choke on your own heart, which had invariably lodged itself in your throat.

Just as you had expected, he was even more beautiful up close. Like an angel. You were so taken by his handsomeness, his kind smile, his spellbinding eyes that you felt your chest tighten. Your eyes suddenly found the marble floor inexplicably fascinating.

He held up the thin wafer. “Il corpo di Cristo.”

You peered up at him from beneath your lashes and met his kind cerulean eyes again. They beamed down at you, joy and curiosity radiating from them. You quickly lost your ability to speak, momentarily dumbstruck. He must have sensed this, as a smile quirked the corner of his lips; you thought you were imagining things when the faintest chuckle reached your ears. If only you knew what he was thinking!

“Amen,” you whispered hurriedly, accepting the wafer in your trembling hands. You bowed to him and quickly stepped aside to genuflect before the altar. As you made your way to back to your pew, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance over your shoulder at him. As you expected, he was dutifully administering communion to the remaining parishioners. You sighed softly as you retook your place and knelt down.

Of course that’s what he’s doing! you scolded yourself. For the love of God, he’s a priest—why would he have feelings for you? Silly, foolish girl.

Your thoughts consumed you for the rest of Mass, even during the last processional hymnal. If only you had noticed the young priest’s longing glance at you as he walked past.

After the processional ended, you prepared to leave, but your shame got the best of you. As a penance you knelt and said five Hail Mary’s to atone for your distraction.

As you left your pew, you noticed how quiet the church had become. A few people remained, some finishing their prayers, others snapping pictures of the ornate altar. As you walked to the back of the chapel, you observed a small group of parishioners clustered near the back, no doubt socializing among themselves. You had planned to walk around them, but the group suddenly parted, putting you directly on course for him. The priest who had awoken in you a reaction so powerful, so complete, you couldn’t even think clearly.

The two parishioners he was speaking with said their farewells; then, he turned and noticed you. As your eyes met for the third time that morning, his face broke into a radiant smile. You approached him slowly, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You did your best to hold his gaze and maintain an air of confidence after your embarrassing conduct during the liturgy of the Eucharist. You stopped just short of a foot away from him, subconsciously holding your breath.

“Buongiorno, signorina,” he said. His voice was so velvety, so delightful, it practically overwhelmed your senses. Being so close allowed you to better study his chin’s adorable cleft, making you swoon. “Non ti ho mai visto prima a San Pietro. Stai visitando la nostra bellissima basilica mentre sei in vacanza?” His presence was oh so alluring—you couldn’t help but relax as air suddenly filled your lungs.

“Buongiorno, monsignor,” you replied carefully. “ No, ma sono nuovo a Roma. Vedi, mi sono trasferito qui due settimane fa. Lavoro per l'ambasciata degli Stati Uniti.”

He smiled knowingly, his eyes alight with intrigue. “So, you are an American?” The soft, gentle lilt of his accent sent a shiver up your spine. How was it possible that this man’s normal pleasantries were enough to provoke such a response in you?

“Yes, I am.”

“In that case, may I be the first to welcome you to Vatican City.” He bowed his head slightly in deference to you. “I am Father Patrick McKenna, il camerlengo to his Holiness. May I ask your name?”

“Y/F/N, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The camerlengo’s smile widened, and you momentarily glimpsed his dazzling white teeth. “Y/N…” he repeated thoughtfully. You cherished the way your name rolled off his tongue. “How lovely. Named after Saint Y/N if I am not mistaken?”

“Yes, Father,” you shyly responded. “I was raised in a very devout home.” You quickly averted your gaze to the floor, worrying that you had revealed too much about yourself. You certainly weren’t prepared for the camerlengo’s next remark:

“I…I hope to see you next weekend.” He spoke softly, tenderly.

Your eyes shot up to his face, eagerly finding his own. The camerlengo’s eyebrows were raised expectantly; a gentle smile graced his handsome features.

“Of course, Father. It was such a lovely Mass.” You tried to convey as much sincerity as you could with your voice.

He took your hand in his and cradled it, making your heart flutter even more rapidly in your chest. “I’m glad you thought so. In the meantime, do not make yourself a stranger.” For a moment, his eyes were expectant, and he nodded solemnly—as if holding you to a serious pledge—but his fervent expression quickly melted back into one of compassion again. “You are welcome anytime.”

Your cheeks took on a lovely pink color at his words as you beamed at him.“Grazie, Padre.” Reluctantly you added, “I believe I should be going now...” Your eyes flashed over your shoulder, subtly indicating a group of nonne eager to speak with him. “I would not want to keep you all to myself.” You shyly lifted your gaze to the camerlengo again.

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mirth at your remark. “May God bless you, Miss Y/L/N. Arrivederci.” As he said this, he traced the sign of the cross on your forehead, the scent of him filling your nostrils briefly. He smelled clean and masculine with a delightful hint of spiciness, which you immediately recognized to be frankincense. You savored the warmth of his skin on yours.

“Addio, monsignor,” you whispered breathlessly.

You found the courage to look into the camerlengo's spellbinding eyes once more before you turned to leave. As you exited the sacred space, you smiled to yourself, his words reverberating within you: do not be a stranger.

"Never, Father," you whispered. ¤

Translations

nonne = "grandmothers"

Il corpo di Cristo = "the body of Christ"

Non ti ho mai visto prima a San Pietro. Stai visitando la nostra bella chiesa durante le vacanze? = "I haven’t seen you before at St. Peter’s. Are you visiting our beautiful basilica while on holiday?"

No, ma sono nuovo a Roma. Vedi, mi sono appena trasferito qui due settimane fa. Lavoro con l'ambasciata degli Stati Uniti. = "No, but I am new to Rome. You see, I recently moved here a few weeks ago. I work for the US Embassy."

@seraferna @lemairepstuff

#camerlengo patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna x reader #ewan mcgregor #angels and demons #dan brown #forgive me father for i have sinned #hot priest #ewanfuckinmcgregor #fluff oneshot

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apathycarestostudy · 4 years

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Academic Success Tips from My Parents

Out of all the things my parents enforced in my siblings and I, the most profound were educational and life success tips. Legit would get 100% regardless of the subject/ course/ workload. Here’s a bunch of them.

Before class:

Spend no more than a quarter of the journey to class chilling.

Organize your study materials according to subject. Files and folders in the back, then textbooks, then notebooks. Stationery in appropriate places.

Always carry a folder full of blank sheets (plain, graphed, all the kinds!).

Fix your bag before you sleep. Hang your wristwatch on the strap so you don’t forget it when you go.

Clear your desk/study area as soon as you’re done - you’re not allowed to move out of that spot until you do.

If you have a study journal/ school diary/ study guide, read it everyday before class.

Be the first one there, at least 15 minutes early (30 mins to an hour early is favourable).

If the teacher walks in, you better greet them with a smile, regardless if they’re crabby or not. Everyday.

You have the option to relax and do whatever before the teacher walks in. However, you have to preview the lesson before it starts. No exceptions.

Make ‘preview’ notes, which is basically little helpful tidbits about what’s to come, stuff you’re not sure about, questions and guides, how formulas connect - literally anything that’ll make the class go smoother for you.

During class:

You can talk to your friends before class, but as soon as it starts, not a word or glance in their direction.

Have all your materials either out if you have the space, or within reach.

Listen carefully and take notes where appropriate (on printed ppts, on the corners and margins of the textbook, or an actual notebook), always, every class. There’s no such thing as ‘I didn’t take any notes today’ or ‘There wasn’t anything going on’.

Always write the date and the day. Make an index as you go.

No highlighters during class. Underline textbooks with pencil only, and use pencils for sketches.

Whenever a teacher assigns work or extra readings or reference materials, write them down - always. Optional or not.

You better write down test/ quiz/ exam dates, even if they’re happening the next day and you’ll obviously remember.

Speaking of exams, if the teacher mentions that word, write down everything they say, dialogue tags and all.

Answer as much questions as you can. It would be favourable if you answer twice per class or more, but it’s fine if you don’t. Your performance matters more.

Give people a chance to answer and ask questions.

Listen to what they’re saying and what response the teacher gives, even if you know it. Listening skills are important.

If an exercise is assigned during class, get on it like it’s an exam, and show the teacher your work (if possible) for corrections.

If there’s a couple minutes before the class ends, but the teacher’s lesson finished for whatever reason (a final exercise is going on and you finished, they’re taking questions etc.) you keep to yourself if you’re not talking to the teacher. Read a book, do some work, anything productive.

You can help your friends and classmates now. Never say no, even if you’re not sure, say so and let them know you’re willing to struggle with them for a solution.

If you lend stationery, get it back before you bounce.

Arrange your materials backwards as you go through the day.

If you have another class right after, you better get over there immediately. It doesn’t matter if you’ve gotten more than enough time to mess around. Take your friends if you if you’d like.

During breaks:

Study, read, review, or preview. Something light for at least a quarter of the break this time.

If someone asks for help, help them (again). It’s good practice for you to see if you understand, and it’s good practice for when you go out into the world.

NEVER GO TO TEACHERS UNLESS IT’S ABSOLUTELY DETRIMENTAL.

If you have nothing light you can do, you can do whatever.

After class:

Start by finishing all your homework. It isn’t due this week? Doesn’t matter. Always do your homework as soon as it’s assigned.

Once you’re done with your homework, check your study journal/ school diary/ study guide again. Take note of what’s coming up.

stUDY NOW PLEASE. All the subjects / courses you’ll have tomorrow should be either a) memorized if you didn’t have more than an hour of homework time or b) read and reviewed and tried and tested if you did.

You can use highlighters now. Make summary notes and formula master lists.

Organize your stuff again.

You’re caught up with everything and barely did an hour today? Time to bust out the optional readings then.

You have no extra stuff too? Time to go on the computer and get some resources yourself.

If there’s a big project, plan every step with excessively precise details. Follow them. Don’t forget to add buffers in case you miss something.

You missed something? Plan all over again.

Go to sleep by 7 if you’re in school and 10 if you’re in college. You haven’t finished studying? I’ll wake you up at 3/4 in the morning then.

Did I mention do your assignments the day they’re assigned to you?

No relaxing till the weekend. You wake up, go to classes, come back, shower, eat, then study until you go to bed. Oh, and lay out your clothes right down to the shoes and socks (accessories too) right before you do.

Weekends:

Sike. You only get one day off.

(Legit tho, back in the day, my work week was from Sunday to Thursday, and my parents would allow Thursday night and half of Friday off. We had to get up at eight-thirty in the morning max and study until lunch with zero breaks. Lunch would usually be at 1:30 pm. You can forget about most of Saturday too. We’d study till lunch, then have to go back again until late afternoon (about 5:30 pm - 4:30 if we were lucky). And then of course, since we were starting back on Sunday, we’d be in bed by 7. People would wonder how in the world we’d be able to sleep at 7 with all that we had to do as students - now you know.)

Don’t get me started on exams lol. This may seem harsh, but without this type of discipline, I wouldn’t be doing as okay as I do now with the subpar standards I’ve seemed to developed in college. Well. I’ve got a bunch of other things I used to do (some still do), as these are only the ones I could remember on the top of my head. More coming soon maybe?

Hope this helps you!

EDIT: DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT ADVOCATING ILL-HEALTH. THIS IS ONLY THE ACADEMIC ASPECT OF MY LIFE, NOT THE ENTIRETY OF IT. IF YOU’RE TRIGGERED, READ THIS. THANKSS.

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personawritings · 4 years

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Park Dates

This took way too long for me to make, because I wanted to give a good first post. Love all of you though. - Ghost Description: Soft, cute dates in the park with your faves. Reader: Gender Neutral | Characters: Phantom Thieves | Genre: Fluff

Published Date: October 20th, 2020

Akira Kurusu

➳ The park wasn’t out of the question for you two to go out on dates. It was always in the rotation of date spots. However, it was definitely one of his favorites due to them being so much calmer than most places. Akira is a bit of an introvert himself, preferring a soothing place like the park over a busy café or the arcade, especially when spending time with his significant other.

➳ On special occasions, you two would go for a boat ride or have a picnic together. Most of the time, though, you two would just walk around. Your hands always intertwined together, almost like they were glued together. Sometimes conversation would flow casually about what went on that week, but sometimes you two would enjoy the local nature together.

➳ While on your weekend walks, he’ll sometimes give you kisses on your hand tenderly. Giving you the softest eyes after he kisses your hand. (God, he was always the charmer.) Sometimes, if he’s feeling especially gutsy, he’ll even give you a proper kiss beside a tree. The kiss is never too long as he doesn’t want to make the park goers uncomfortable, but it’s always enough to leave your heart fluttering.

Ryuji Sakamoto

➳ I don’t know if running counts as a date, but your park ‘dates’ are always early morning runs. Ryuji has been determined to get back up to par for the Phantom Thieves, his significant other, and most importantly himself. He knows he won’t be an athlete again like he was, but he wants to feel like that again.

➳ The first few times, you are just the time keeper. Keeping track of his improved times and being emotional support. Every time he gets better, though, he gets a little kiss as a reward. While that’s some definite encouragement though, however he wants you to start running with him. And he brings it up every single time.

➳ Eventually, you do crack though. Those damn puppy dog eyes finally melted your soul. Needless to say, though, it goes about as well as you expected. He completely beats you out and is so far ahead of you that it’s not even fair. When you do catch up, you are nearly out of breath and desperate for water and ramen. After that, the morning run roles become switch up every lap. Both of you giving kisses after the other improves their times.

Ann Takamaki

➳ Most of your dates honestly aren’t at the park. It’s not that Ann doesn’t like to go to the park, it’s just that she has things she’d rather do together. However, when you do go to the park, it’s usually when one of you is stressed out.

➳ When she’s stressed, it’s usually due to school or work. Most of the time, you’ll take her to the park and have a cute picnic together. Usually the picnic will include something simple like homemade sandwiches and whatever attempt at crepes you made. (She appreciates it no matter the quality, promise.) While you sit by the water, enjoying lunch, she’ll vent about her troubles to you. After the long vent, she’ll finally just lay down in the grass. Breathing out as if she’s letting the pressure get off her chest. She simple appreciates your presence nearby.

➳ When you’re stressed, she’ll drag you to the park. Ann will surprise you with your favorite seasonal treat, letting you vent like you do for her. Whatever stresses, she’ll listen and give you comforting words. She’ll give advice if she can, but either way she’s a shoulder for you to cry on or vent to whenever you need.

Yusuke Kitagawa

➳ Going to the park was initially your poorly done, flirting tactic. Yusuke usually went there for inspiration, something new to paint. You’d always tag along, trying to get close to him. He’d always let you come with, happy to have a figure to draw with the ever changing lighting by the lake.

➳ Even after you start dating, you two still go to the park together fairly often. Sometimes he needed to go to do an assignment for class, sometimes to drum up inspiration. Occasionally, you’d attempt to draw with him. No matter your skill level, he’d always praise your work, highly encouraging of growing artists. Plus, he secretly loves you taking an interest in his passion.

➳ Park dates become a regular thing between you two. Besides the inspiration, it gives a quiet space to talk together at the end of a long week of fighting shadows and balancing school like the teenage vigilante he is. It’s even more needed if you two aren’t in the same classes or different schools entirely. While he’s not the most physically affectionate, he definitely tells you loving flowery words every date. Usually about how nice you look, your artwork, or even just about you in general. Making it all worth those moments apart.

Makoto Niijima

➳ Park dates are always during exam season. It’s a new place to study and keeps both of you from being trapped up in a room over a textbook. Plus, the libraries and cafes are usually crowded up with students studying. A study buddy is always good, especially when she’s ridiculously intelligent.

➳Usually between studying biology and English, you’ll people watch. Not in a judgmental way, but definitely pointing out what people are doing. Guessing their ages, what they are doing at the park. Your favorite is guessing the boat couples, seeing what they are up to. (One time you swore you saw Akira and Yusuke on a boat, but Makoto kept denying it.)

➳ The dates aren’t romantic, because they aren’t really traditional dates in a way. It’s just spending time together, which is all that matters. She’s trying to help you improve and you for her. Hearing her speak and help to correct your English pronunciation is more than enough. Also, your grades are looking beautiful after a date with your girlfriend. So bonus.

Futaba Sakura

➳ Let’s be real, you are the one who drags her to the park. She doesn’t ask to go. The goal is to get her to see some sunlight. It’s not too busy for her anxiety, especially when Akihabara is just too much to handle for you or her. Sojiro or Akira help you out with the convincing to get her to the park, after all someone has to get her outside.

➳ When you get there, you do one of two things: An ARG game, or reading manga together. With the ARG game (think Pokémon GO for reference), you two will wander around collecting items for whatever ARG she’s obsessed with. If she convinces you to download it, you two will run around trying to out compete each other to get the most items and level up the quickest. By the end of it, the winner will be gloating til you both end up laughing on the grass at how silly the taunts get.

➳ If it’s just the two of you reading manga, then it’s honestly pretty relaxing. You’ll share the book. The two of you somewhere reading a volume of hers or your current favorite manga to share in each other’s interests. Futaba will react as she’s reading, which is adorable, but don’t bring it up or she’ll stop. Sometimes she falls asleep, leaning on your shoulder. Maybe it’s good you two got out of the house.

Haru Okumura

➳ You were friends with Haru before you even began dating her, or even knew her. The local park had a community garden that both of you would go to and help tend every week. You didn’t even know she was a celebrity, just that she was a talented gardener. It was eventually how you two ended up together.

➳ It became a tradition for you two to once a week check on the garden with a few other community members, then take a walk together. While walking, you’ll pick a vendor of the week to buy treats for. It changes every week who pays, even though Haru repeatedly says she can pay over and over. It’s the principle of thing.

➳ The conversations tend to revolve around her trying to get ideas for Okumura Foods. It’s a bit consuming for her thoughts a lot of the time, especially after her father’s passing. You’ll try to pass back-and-forth ideas with her on new ways to help the company. Sometimes the goal of the ‘ideas’ is just to destress Haru and make her laugh. You give a few helpful ideas on occasion though, and she credits you frequently in her next meeting.

#persona #persona 5 #imagines #headcanons #persona 5 imagines #akira kusuru #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #yusuke kitawaga #makoto niijima #futaba sakura #haru okamura

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jenovahh · 3 years

Text

The Honey Pot - Ch. 16 - A New Home

“Again.”

You groan as you peel yourself off the floor, after unceremoniously crashing down hard on your back. “Why are we even doing this?” You growl, picking yourself up once more. “What is this even teaching me? If you’re trying to show you’re a colossal asshole trust me; I know that already.”

Zenos stands nearby, arms crossed, eyes somehow colder than usual. “What other reason do I need aside from because I said so?” Something about him has changed; has become more rigid, more closed off. Not that he was ever necessarily open with his feelings, just…

Something has changed.

It is especially noticeable on the weekends, because those have now been freed up for you. Zenos remains at home to do work while you head over to the Garlond estate.

He was mad about it, you were sure. His father was making him share his toys. You thought he'd at least get over it like three weeks ago. Instead, he refused to rise up to your banter, and he no longer fought to get a rise out of you. He had become cold and unfeeling, apathetic, barely treating you any better than any of his other lackeys.

Sighing, you wearily shake your hands in an effort to limber them up again. Carefully, you handstand, abs flexing with the effort to find your balance. Keeping your center was proving oddly difficult, your body working itself in ways it had not previously. Your arms shook momentarily as you fought to keep steady, slowly willing yourself to control your breaths. Shutting your eyes, you find your center, muscles stabilizing as you hold yourself in place. The world slowly melts away until all you can feel is the whisper of air conditioning across your stomach, hear the thrum of the mini fridge in the corner of the room…

See Zenos’ fist make a beeline straight for your abdomen…

You choke out a wheezing breath as his fist still makes a solid hit on your stomach, having made your arms go lax to drop you to the floor. The momentum of your fall has you drop onto your back, barely having the breath to roll out of the way as Zenos’ foot comes down where your head once was. “Zenos, what the fuck,” you snarl, quickly hopping to your feet, bringing your arms up in defense. He looks apathetic still, face emotionless and for a moment you feel something akin to dread as your stance weakens ever so slightly. “Zenos,”

“Do you think in a fight that an opponent won’t take the chance to strike at your most vulnerable part?” He asks in that condescending manner, sounding entirely too much like his father.

Entirely too much like when you first met.

“I thought we weren’t working on combat,”

“We are always working on combat.” He drones, and though his voice is without feeling, the weight of his words is oppressive all the same.

“Then you should be a little more fucking clear before we start!” You snap back, dropping your fighting stance. “Fuck this. I’m through here.” You don’t even bother looking him in the eye as you move to walk past him and out the door. Before you can even make it an ilm behind him his hand has whipped out and snagged your arm in a nigh deathgrip, slowing your circulation. Your eyes drop to where his hand has encircled your arm, veins sticking out in some places, before sliding up to meet ice blue eyes. “Let. Me. Go.”

“You will leave when I allow it.” He states, as if you had no choice in the matter.

“Zenos yae Galvus,” you begin as calmly as possible, “If you do not let me go within the next three seconds I will have you on your ass so fast you’d think it impossible.”

A spark flashes in his eyes; it's not fear, but something else. It's gone as fast as it came though, replaced by underlying stubbornness and sheer loftiness. “I’d like to see you try.” He scoffs, to which you narrow your eyes at him.

“You and I both know I am the better fighter. Do you want me to kick your ass?” You question with a smirk, flexing your arm in his hand. “Does the sadistic psychopath have a thing for powerful women?”

“You flatter yourself. I would--” He scoffs, but his three seconds are up and you twist yourself out of his grip to sure enough knock him flat on his back with your foot on his chest.

“I do flatter myself. Because I’m worth flattering.” Stepping off him, you make your way to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a pointy eared bastard.”

The door clicks softly behind you as you make your way back to your room to shower. If Zenos wanted to act like a jealous cunt, that was good as well as long as he didn’t take it out on you like some sort of child who didn’t learn how to properly communicate his feelings.

Showering, you make sure to use that same floral scent you started using over a month ago; the bottle is nearly empty now. And even though its effects don’t last long due to you immediately going into a heavy training session not even an hour after, it's still worth the few seconds you see Estinien’s nostrils flare and his eyes glaze over with muted desire. Pouring a generous amount on the loofah, you rub it along your body, focusing on the sensation of it gliding across your skin. Your sight focuses and unfocuses as you clean yourself up, gazing at old wounds, old cuts and tears.

Such ugly, ugly skin.

You were not without your own insecurities. Who would love such imperfection? Who would ever turn your way with all the scars you have? How would he ever--

Grunting, you turn the water as cold as it will go, shocking your system as your teeth begin to chatter. It scatters your thoughts enough that you can turn off the spray and step out, yanking the towel to wrap around your chilled body. Your thoughts are formless as you dress in fresh workout clothes. Some snug yoga pants and a tank top to go over your sports bra. Picking the choker up from your dresser, you fasten it around your neck, quickly forgetting its presence. Grabbing your bag, you head to walk out the door.

Your Lalafellin driver assigned to you awaits you outside, and you give him a wave as he holds open the backseat door for you. Stepping inside, you finally relax as he starts the car and pulls off from the estate.

The ride across town is not nearly as boring anymore, or at least it feels shorter now that you have been enough times. You usually text Ardbert during these rides, where you can chat about anything and you know your conversations aren't being monitored as closely. He's been incredibly supportive besides, happy to see you hanging out with someone much nicer, even if it wasn't fully your choice to do so. You had questioned why Varis actually agreed to continue your visits, but Ardbert advised you to not look a gift horse in the mouth and be happy he let you leave at all.

That made enough sense you supposed, though a small, inner voice told you to heed Zenos' words, that his father was a man with ulterior motives…but what were they?

I'll think about it later, you thought, seeing the Garlond estate come into view. The gate was already rolling open for you to come inside, the driver pulling up beneath the awning as usual. Your car had become a familiar sight at the estate, the security guard waving with a smile as you roll by. Grabbing your bag, you step out of the car and wave to your driver who waves in return and pulls away to leave until you call for him.

Walking through the front, you feel almost like you’re here on a friendly visit, not spying on the enemy. Sweet air conditioning welcomes you as you toe your shoes off at the door, slipping into your designated guest slippers. You had been given your own personal pair, which you had refused at first, but Cid had insisted. It was weird because he acted almost fatherly, but had no known children of his own, or even siblings, nieces, nephews to spoil.

“Ah, Honey, you’ve come a bit early!”

Turning around, you halt your trek to the backyard that leads to Estinien’s quarters to instead greet Cid. Just seeing him somehow brings a smile to your face. “Good morning, Cid.” You beam, giving him a small wave. He’s dressed semi-casual, sporting some simple khaki slacks and a powder blue button down. His goggles are present as usual, situated perfectly over his third eye.

“I had to send Estinien on a bit of an errand earlier; he might be a bit. I hope you don’t have any other business and mind a little bit of a wait?” He asks, already turning down the hall. After spending enough weekends coming over, you know that is an invitation to walk and talk with him.

“No, no other plans for today. I surprisingly have a pretty free day for once.” You laugh, following just behind him. He slows his pace to match yours, walking side by side with you.

“Good, good. Otherwise I would’ve prepared lunch for nothing!” He chortles, giving you good smack on the back. You wince only slightly; while incredibly rich, Cid is a man who still isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty and as a result he’s got some mean arms.

Walking into the kitchen, the smell of what seems to be pork wafts toward you. Sure enough, you watch as he makes his way to a nearby oven in the wall and pulls out two plates of perfectly, pan seared pork chops. Your mouth waters immediately, and even though you had already eaten breakfast before your training session with Zenos, you suddenly found yourself starving.

“Please, please, take a seat.” He offers, setting the plates down on the nearby island which seems to also serve as a makeshift bar-style table. Pulling a stool out, you take a seat as you watch him pull out two wine glasses from the rack overhead. Like the rest of his home, it is very modern in design, all light, powdery colors and big windows. “I hope you can hold your liquor enough that a little wine to go with our meal won’t affect your sparring later?” he asks, reaching for what is an obviously expensive bottle of red wine.

“No, I can hold my own well enough.” You laugh, setting your change of clothes down on the kitchen floor nearby. The food looks and smells delicious. The porkchop is paired with what looks to be oven roasted popotoes and sauteed greens. Just before you can grab a fork and knife and dig in, Cid is pouring you an almost generous glass of wine and drizzling your porkchop with, “Gravy?” you fail to hide the disbelief in your voice.

“Yes of course. Tell me, why the face?”

“I haven’t had gravy in so long,” It takes great care for you not to dig into your meal like some sort of barbarian, though you are on the edge of your seat as you wait for Cid to sit down so he too may eat. “I am kept on a very...limited diet.”

His brows furrow concerningly at that. “You are not starved are you?”

“No sir, I don’t mean limited like that.” You assure him, giving a nervous laugh. “What I mean is I don’t get to eat a lot of fatty foods; my meals are strictly nutritional. However, even my chef will occasionally risk his job to sneak some extra salt or cheese into my meals even at the risk of being found out by his employers.” You giggle, already imagining Lyngsath’s boisterous laugh in your mind’s eye.

You miss the split second Cid’s expression remains worried for one second longer before easing into something more neutral. “Yes, well...tell me Honey...do you enjoy your time at Galvus enterprises? Are they a good employer?”

You prepare to open your mouth but suddenly the weight of your choker feels heavy on your neck. Unconsciously, your fingers reach up to press against the cool metal, fingering the ruby of the Garlean logo betwixt two fingers. “I enjoy my time there. Some days are harder than others--”

“Honey.”

Looking up, Cid stares back with a serious expression, sapphire eyes gazing at you deeply. “I have known for a long time Varis has sent you to spy on me, and I have long since pinpointed that your choker records our every word. It is why I have worked to formulate this device actually,” he reaches under the table and pulls out what looks to be some sort of strange, robotic beetle. “It took a lot of tinkering, but it is capable of taking the words we are saying at this very moment and fabricating them into some arbitrary nonsense. Varis has some wonderful technicians in his employ sure, but I think it's safe to say that even ten of his best could hardly hold a candle to me.” Placing the small beetle on the table, you watch as it scampers around cutely. With a smirk, he cuts into his porkchop. “You are safe here, Honey.”

You are safe here, Honey. The light of the Mother Crystal will watch over you.

Tears well up in your eyes almost immediately, your hands dropping your utensils to quickly wipe at them. “Oh bother, I hadn’t meant to make you cry,” Cid grumbles, standing immediately to grab a cloth napkin from a nearby counter.

“No, no, it's not your fault,” your voice cracks as the dam finally breaks, your shoulders sinking as you finally release months worth of unshed tears. Suddenly, the weight of your sins comes bearing down upon you in this moment, your body jolting as one of Cid’s strong arms comes to wrap around your back in a comforting embrace.

How long has it been since someone had hugged you…?

After a minute or so, you manage to get yourself together enough that you can finish your meal. “I’m so sorry,”

“No, no, it seems you needed the cry.” He assures you, chewing on a piece of his food.

“I just...I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been able to talk without worry that someone was monitoring me. Without fearing that anything I could say, be it good or bad could be used against me. It’s so...freeing.” You sniffle, once again picking up your knife and fork.

“Then I have achieved my goal.” Cid replies, giving you a warm smile. “After all, you know the Ironworks slogan don’t you?”

Meeting his smile, you think for a moment. “...Freedom through technology?”

“Thatta girl.” He resumes eating his food. “Now tell me. Just how do they treat you over there?”

“It is...less so about the way they treat me and more so what I am made to do…” You trail off, cringing as horrid memories enter your mind.

“If you do not wish to elaborate, I will understand. It would not do to dredge up anything uncomfortable for you.” He urges, quickly refilling your glass. Paying no mind, you take a large swig of it, enjoying the light burn of alcohol going down your throat.

“They are...dark things. Horrid things.” Is all you say, deciding you need another sip of your wine. “This porkchop…”

“Made it myself.” Cid beams proudly, taking a bite of his own.

“You cook?” You ask, genuinely surprised. The meat is flavorful and juicy, well seasoned though you would prefer it a little saltier for your own tastes. The potatoes are well roasted, though some have a few overly crisp edges. The greens are that little bit of extra salt you were looking for, tying the meal together.

“As a hobby. I would say even I get tired of tinkering and making gadgets, but somehow I can never stop myself from optimizing my cookware when I'm making a good roast." He laughs, pouring himself a second glass of wine. "Besides, it is much more impressive to guests."

"I'm impressed just from the fact you deign to cook your own food. Varis would never do something like this; he sees work such as this for the help…" you trail off, finishing off your popotoes.

"I'm not surprised. Varis has always looked down his nose not just at people who were not Garlean, but those in a different tax bracket as well…" Cid sighs. "I've known Varis for quite some time, when we were both younger than we are now. My father was already a renowned engineer in Garlemald; it is not as if I had more humble beginnings. No, it is because of my father I was able to meet Varis."

"You make him sound...important." You say slowly, swallowing down a piece of pork.

"That's because he is." His tone is serious now. "He couldn't hide his money, his affluence, but he could hide his lineage." He sets his fork and knife down, gently dabbing at his lips with his napkin. "He is royalty."

You nearly drop your own at that. "Royalty?"

Cid nods gravely, taking a sip of his wine. "My father was a personal engineer for the Galvus family. Varis, however, was only the third son, and therefore not entitled to the throne even if it was posturing with no real power in congress. This gave him the opportunity to play himself off as a mere distant relative despite bearing the Galvus name."

You let that sink in, staring emptily at your plate. You knew so little of foreign affairs that you never put two and two together that he shared the name of the Garlean royal family. "But why,"

"On the surface, I'm sure it is to be his own person, and also to distance himself from his homeland to pursue his ambitions." He refills your glass, but you barely take note of it, knowing another glass will edge you towards tipsy. "I understand it, in a way. I too, wanted to separate my own ambitions from my father; from the cruelty he committed in the name of the royal family."

"But how was he able to leave an entire royal legacy behind?"

"The family simply denounced him back." Cid shrugged.

You mull over that for a few seconds, thinking on his words. "And what do you mean… by...cruelty?"

Cid fixes you with a stern look, silent for many moments. "I have never shared this with anyone aside from a close circle of friends; I trust you understand the need for confidentiality?"

You nod solemnly, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the wine feeling appealing once again.

"I will not unload a lot of information on you at once...but Varis is far crueler than you could possibly imagine." He whispers. "The majority of my fathers experiments were at Varis’ behest. I could no longer support my father's endeavors and left to start my own company." Standing to his feet he grabs your plate and moves to place it in the sink. "Somedays still, it pains me that I could never reconcile with my father…"

"Can you still not? Is he no longer in Garlemald?" you ask, fisting your hands in your lap.

Reaching for the faucet, he runs water over the dishes, staring at the water as it goes down the drain. "He was killed by one of his experiments about three years ago now."

Your heart aches for him; you never would have known. You don’t even remember seeing it on the news at all. "Cid...I'm so,"

"No, no...no need to apologize." he chuckles lamely, picking the bones from the sink to toss in the trash and activating the garbage disposal for the rest. "I have long since made my peace with my regret." Grabbing the plates, he opens the dishwasher door and stores them inside. "I know not what horrors that tyrant puts you through Honey, but know this…"

Rounding the island, he pulls your hands from your lap, and cradles them in his own. "You will always have a home here."

The sincerity of his words makes you tear up again, fresh tracks running down your face as you giggle miserably. "I have not thought of having a home for some time..." You warble, wiping your tears on your arms. Cid reaches to grab you another napkin, smiling at your small murmur of thanks. “Thank you,”

"Hey, I thought hosts were supposed to be courteous to their guests."

Both of you turn to the furthest kitchen entrance, finding Estinien standing there in a rather nice suit instead of his usual training gear. He has his usual scowl, but you can see evident concern as he stares down Cid.

"Now, now, don't look at me like that. She is crying now, but if I wanted to woo her, Hydaelyn knows you wouldn't stand a chance with your prickly self." Cid teases, seemingly unable to help himself.

"Who said I was--" Estinien bursts before taking a calming breath. "Don't you have...I don't know a company to run?" he sighs, clearly knowing that getting riled up will only serve for Cid to tease him more.

"Yes, yes, I can see when I'm unwanted. I will whisk myself away. What is the furthest place in my home, I wonder? Perhaps the sun room, or the home theater…" Cid drawls, listing off the many rooms in his large home. “Also make sure you take the omega device with you Estinien!”

Snarling, Estinien grabs your bag from the floor (and swipes the poor beetle from the counter) and storms off. Giving a quick bow and a shy wave, you leave a laughing Cid behind.

Estinien takes a minute to catch up to with his long, Elezen stride, but you are now familiar enough with the grounds that you don't have to worry about getting lost if you fall behind. "Silly man, oof," You titter to yourself, only somewhat paying attention to where you’re going.

You hit a warm and hard surface, a hand snatching you by the wrist to steady you. "Silly?" Estinien echoes, arching a winter dusted brow.

Face heating, you give him a teasing look. "Of course. Have you seen yourself?" you snort, trying not to shiver as his thumb rubs small circles on your inner wrist.

"You've been drinking." He states, gently releasing your hand. Though his tone is disproving, you’ve learned to read the truth beneath the truth and spot a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes.

“Or...Cid is a rather generous host, you should say.” You huff, moving past him to continue down the hall. Hearing him sigh behind you, his footfalls follow your own as you exit the main house and cross the grounds to his little corner of the estate.

“In that case I think it would be fair to say you are in no state to do any kind of sparring.” He says with a click of his tongue, watching as you toe off your guest shoes at the door. Dropping your bag to the floor he does the same with his own, placing them in a nearby cubby. Despite his gruff appearance, it never ceases to amaze how homely and welcoming his place is, all warm lighting, and soft edges. There’s a slight rustic feel to it, possibly caused by how a lot of the furniture is wooden and the walls covered in stone accents, hailing to his Coerthan heritage.

“How did you come to be here? From Coerthas I mean.” You blurt out, running your hand along the wall as you follow him through to the living room.

He’s stopped moving, his hand hooked around his tie. His expression is unreadable even to you for a few moments, before it eases into veiled pain. “I wanted a fresh start.” He tugs forcefully, loosening it from around his neck.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t apologize.” He cuts you off, throwing you a biting look. “Stay here, I’ll change.”

Reaching out for him, you stop him in his tracks, meeting his blue eyes with your own. “Are you changing to spar?”

“Is that not what you came here for?” he questions, arching a strong brow. His hand feels so much warmer in your own, but you do not feel a chill. In fact, you feel so warm yourself, and perhaps that wine Cid gave you was a little stronger than you thought. You suppose you should’ve expected as much from rich people alcohol...

“I...don’t know.” you murmur, releasing his hand slowly. You plop down on the couch, head full of so many thoughts; too many. Why were you here? If you came to spar, by all means you should’ve never drank at all. You were no lightweight, but that didn’t mean your body was immune to the slowing effects of alcohol. It's why even if you did grab a flute of champagne or two at an event where you were escorting Zenos, you paid careful attention to how much you were consuming. Your mind was still very clear, though. You never got drunk or even tipsy if you could help it.

Why did you feel so at ease here?

“What did the old man talk to you about?” Estinien asks, seeing that you are clearly lost in thought. He starts to undo his cufflinks, placing them on the coffee table just in front of you. He shrugs out his blazer, draping it gently over the back of the couch. The distance he sits away from you brings a giggle out of you; it is just far enough to be deemed respectable, but just close enough to push the boundaries of friendship.

“Old man?” You question, throwing him a smirk, to which Estinien gives one in return.

“He hates being called that. Told him if he just went clean shaven he’d age down about a decade.” He snickers, laying his right arm on the back of the couch. You watch as he fully relaxes into it, even going as far to kick his feet up on the table.

“He...told me about how Varis is a lot worse than he seems on the surface.” You admit quietly, fiddling with your hands in your lap. A sense of foreboding came with that knowledge; you felt it in your very bones. Something much bigger than you was heading your way, and you had to wonder if you were too late to stop it. “Funnily enough, Zenos had warned me too. Said that his father is worth fearing, even if I do not fear Zenos himself. That if I ever wanted to be free of this hell, that even leaving country might not be enough.” The exhale you give is weighed down by how defeated you feel. “It's been just over a year now...I’ve not seen my friends, I have no clue if they know I’m all right. I’ve not been able to contact...my old coworkers at all. Its like I’m living a totally new life.”

You gasp as Estinien’s warm touch glances just beneath your eye, wiping at a tear before it could fall. You freeze in place as the waterworks start again, except you find you cannot sob. Both for the strange reason in that you feel unable to blubber and wail once again, and also because you could never weep openly in front of him. “I-I’m fine,”

“Like hells you are.” Estinien snarls, fixing you with a hot glare despite his cool eyes. “You’re obviously bursting at the seams, Honey, you’re hardly keeping yourself together.” His voice is soft but still harsh, his body leaning toward you more as both hands try to futilely stop your tears.

“I’m sorry,”

“Stop apologizing, idiot.” He grunts, shifting to make himself a bit more comfortable. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I’ve hurt so many people,” you insist, whimpering as his hands move to clutch at your face fiercely, but not painfully.

“Did you want to?” he asks, staring deep into your eyes.

“...N-No,” you stutter, lip trembling.

“Then you’ve done nothing wrong.” He sighs, the sound incredibly pained. “Gods woman-- it's a wonder you’re holding yourself together as is.” His thumbs gently swipe at still flowing tears, and the motion is soothing, your eyes drifting closed. You allow yourself this small comfort, leaning into his touch, his warmth. It is silent, nothing but white noise in the background. The light hum of his refrigerator in the kitchen nearby, the chirping of birds outside. The sound of his nearing breath.

“Honey,”

You’ve leaned forward before you’ve realized it, able to feel his breath on your face. Opening your eyes, for once the Elezen man looks a bit unsure, teeth worrying his bottom lip in a uncharacteristic show of anxiety. “Estinien.” You breathe, pushing yourself closer, but he pulls away, just barely. Frowning, you lean back slowly, looking more dejected than you feel. “I’m sorry. I thought,”

“No...it was I who made the first move was it not?” He groans, running a hand roughly through his long hair. The two of you sit in strained silence, neither one of you wanting to break it. The clock on the far wall ticks loudly, thudding in your ears until Estinien heaves a heavy sigh. “I just...not like this, Honey.” he murmurs softly. “I want you sober and willing. Not drunk and depressed.”

“I’m not drunk.” You snap back immediately, with more venom than you intend. “I will admit that the wine Cid served me certainly had more alcohol than I was expecting, but I am of a clear mind. I want to be here, I…” you swallow down a gulp of air, turning to face him slowly. “I want you.”

Estinien regards you in silence, studying you carefully. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“A-About wanting you?” you stammer, not resisting as he slowly takes you by your wrists and pulls you toward him. You raise to your knees with the movement, being pulled to straddle his lap as he leans back against the couch, allowing you to rest your hands where you wish.

“No. About you being sober.” He responds, his gaze turning ravenous.

Pursing your lips together, you give him the most serious look you can muster. “When have I ever lied to you Estinien?”

He opens his lips for a moment as if there’s something he wants to say, but decides against it. “Your breath smells like expensive wine.” He chooses instead.

“Blame your boss,”

And you fall into him, pressing your lips to his own and by the Twelve does it feel wonderful. He groans into your kiss, tongue skimming along your bottom lip and you take it upon yourself to deepen your kiss, but Estinien wrestles back control immediately. He sees fit to remain in control and you are fine to let him, being okay with giving up the reins for a while. His hands shift to cradle your hips, smoothing up and down your sides before resting on your behind and giving a firm squeeze.

“Halone have mercy,” he gasps for air, breaking your kiss, giving another good squeeze before bringing your hips down to grind against his own, his bulge settled right where you need most and the two of you groan in unison. Your hands get greedy, yanking his tie off him as you continue your kiss, fingers fiddling to quickly undo his buttons.

“The one time,” you huff as he trails kisses to your jawline, to your neck. “You come home wearing something I can’t just pull over your head,”

“We can worry about that later,” he growls, stopping your movements by flipping you beneath him onto the couch, hitching your legs on his hips. “Much later,” He continues ravishing your neck and you let him, raising your arms so he can get you out of your shirt. Estinien undresses you like a man possessed, reason too far gone as you do the same to him. Both of your pants are shoved downward in a rush, hands down the other’s as if you were two teenagers locked away in a closet. And in a way, aren’t you? You’re not supposed to be fraternizing with the enemy at all. You’re here to weasel information out of the Ironworks CEO and his idiot bodyguard, or at least those were your orders.

Following orders doesn't’ feel nearly as good as this though.

It doesn’t feel as good as Estinien’s long, nimble fingers stretching your core, preparing you for him, because from what you’ve felt he is certainly proportionate, and you hope he can not just feel but see how ready you are for him. His lips unexpectedly press to your lower lips hotly, his tongue delving inside to taste your sweetness that has you sobbing into the couch. He groans so wantonly, finding you ready enough to flip you over, your back to his front, both of your pants around your ankles respectively. As he looms over you you feel the tip of his cock press against your core, a tingle shooting down your spine, a trickle of anticipation racing through your veins.

Slowly, he takes his time filling you, ilm by torturous ilm. He is patient, surprisingly gentle, though that isn’t to say you thought he would take you like some sort of brute.

Like the savages you were.

Fully hilted within you, he lets you adjust to his length, his breath hot even though you both are sweating. When you finally wiggle your ass against him does he begin to slowly thrust, groaning your name into your hair, clutching your hips as if it is in the only thing grounding him in the moment. One hand of yours clutches at a stray throw pillow, the other reaches between you to feel how he fills you; to feel the glide of his cock reaching so deeply within you that you can focus on naught else.

“Estinien,” you moan, back arching like a bow beneath him, his eyes screwed shut as he increases the force of his thrusts.

“You feel…” he rasps, slamming hard into you, pulling a cry from your throat. “There are no words,”

And from then on there is no need for there to be. You come on his cock more times than you dare count, your clothes strewn all over the living room, the kitchen. Each release is as great as the last, a welcome distraction from the mess your life has become. Time does not pass as you are bent over every flat surface in his home, fucked against every wall. Each orgasm sets you free as much as it weighs you down, until you find yourself weeping silent tears as Estinien spends himself inside you one last time.

“Honey...what’s wrong?” Estinien asks, cradling your naked body to his, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I don’t,” you hiccup, feeling so small and helpless in his arms. “I don’t know. I feel so...guilty.”

You feel him frown against your head, but do not take note of it as you continue to weep. He carries you up the stairs to his bathroom, where he manages to get you both showered and clean. Too spent to bother getting dressed, he simply deposits you in his bed and tucks you under the covers, closing the blinds to block out the afternoon sun. You watch him with drowsy eyes, feeling a pain in your heart. “Estinien,”

He’s just about to leave the room but stops at the sound of his name. “Yes?” he asks, not turning around.

“Thank you.”

Saying nothing, he walks out the bedroom and closes the door behind him,

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #THP

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