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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 4)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 3k

a/n: me posting another part two days later? it's more likely than you think! i hit the angst button on this one sorry y'all :')

<- part 3 | part 5 ->

When Bradley Bradshaw was little, his father put glow stars on his ceiling when he said he was afraid of the dark.

After Goose passed away, things slowly faded away with time and nicknacks slowly started to be replaced as time marched on, memories began to fade, people started to talk about Goose less and less.

But the one thing that remained constant over the years were the glow stars Nick Bradshaw painstakingly pressed into the ceiling of his young son’s bedroom.

I remember them so vividly, even now. It was amazing to me how they shone just as bright in his pitch black room at the age of nineteen as they did when Bradley was two and tucked under his dad’s arm as he read him Goodnight, Moon for the hundredth time.

The night I realized I was in love with Bradley Bradshaw, we were lying beneath his stars. The irony of the whole thing was that I was only there because of a fight with my father. Dad and I didn’t fight often at all, which made those rare arguments peppered into my teenage years explosive. Honestly, I couldn’t remember what the fight was about, only that at some point along the way, Dad had mentioned Mom and the word disappointed and even though I knew he didn’t mean it, that he spoke before he thought, it sent me spiraling. I remember I trudged through the pouring rain down to the other end of the street because I couldn’t even stand to be in the same house as him.

Carole was waiting on the front porch for me with a big fluffy towel when I finally trudged up the steps. In hindsight, I should’ve realized then and there that I was the luckiest girl in the world—my father was madder at me than he’d been my entire life and yet he called Aunt Carole to make sure I didn’t catch a cold when I got to her house. That’s how much he loved me.

She helped me into the half bath downstairs, where one of my many changes of pajamas left at the Bradshaw house was waiting. She took my wet clothes and sent me and my fluffy towel upstairs to Bradley’s room.

I remember trudging up those stairs trying not to cry, because it was the worst thing I could possibly imagine for Bradley to see me crying. But, he was waiting in his doorway, brown hair tousled, clearly having been roused from a restful slumber. He smiled sleepily at me and held out an arm, and I remember how bad the sob that escaped me hurt my chest as I hugged him tight around the middle, and he guided me into his dark room and under his very fancy, very soft duvet.

We lay there in silence for a long while, his fan spinning, and my watery eyes were focused on the stars over our heads. There had to be hundreds of little neon green dots glowing above our heads—very childish for a nineteen year old, but it was such peace to look up and get lost in the cosmos from the comfort of a familiar bed.

“We’re analyzing this book in my Lit class.” Bradley spoke quietly, one arm tucked beneath his head and the other hand on his chest. “The Outsiders. Have you ever read it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, during my freshman year of high school. What’re you doing reading that in college?”

“It’s part of the unit. Revisiting books we read at a lower curricular level. It’s really cool to see how different we see books at fourteen compared to now. It’s like a whole new light.” Bradley never explained things to me like I was stupid, and ever since he started college it was nice to hear what I would expect once I graduated. “Anyways, it made me think of a nickname for you.”

“A nickname?”

“Yeah!” Bradley laughed out with a nod. “I mean, Little Mav is cute and all but it’s not even you, it’s just a play on your dad’s callsign. You need something special to you.”

Finally, I tore my eyes away from Goose’s stars and turned my head to look at Bradley. “Okay, what was the nickname?”

Bradley turned his head to look at me with a smile. “Cherry.”

“Cherry?”

“Yeah, like from the book? Cherry Valance?”

I laughed and nodded, waving my hand. “Yes, Bradley, I know who she is, but why Cherry?”

“You remind me of her.” Bradley said simply, and I raised a brow at him, though he could barely see it in the darkness.

“How so?“

“Well, Cherry is kind to Ponyboy, even if he does live on the other side of the tracks. And she’s whip-smart, and courageous. Open-minded, too, just like you. It just fits. Plus, you’re sweet, just like cherries.” Bradley explained himself very precisely, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I love it. Though, if I’m Cherry, I’ll need a Ponyboy.” I reasoned, and Bradley hummed thoughtfully.

“I suppose I could be your Ponyboy. If you’ll have me.” He mused after a moment with a cheeky grin, and I nodded quickly, turning my eyes back up to the stars again.

“I’ll have you always, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I know you will. That’s why I love you.”

I remembered how well we took to those silly nicknames in the few years we had them before Bradley left.

I remember how bad he caused sunsets to hurt after he was gone.

———

As I walked onto the tarmac, sunglasses on my nose, I felt a hand snag my forearm, snatching me from my nostalgia. I was spun around unceremoniously, and Rooster was there, staring down at me over his father’s aviators.

“Did you know?” He asked quietly, probably to avoid the other pilots from overhearing. He really didn’t need to talk so quietly, because the planes nearly drowned him out. “About your dad being here—did you know??”

“Yes.” I replied, yanking my arm from his grip.

“You could’ve warned me.”

I clenched my jaw. “Warned you? What would you have liked me to say, Bradley?” I adjusted my footing, bringing my hand up to my chest. “Oh hey, so I know you haven’t talked to me in ten years and abandoned me over something my dad did, but just a heads up—he’s our new TOPGUN instructor!” He opened his mouth to speak, but my dad cut him off from behind us.

“Rooster!” A light switch flicked from within him. I watched as his spine went straight, and he stepped around me, continuing on his path to his F-18, abandoning our conversation entirely, like he did most things lately. “Bradley!” Dad called again, and I scoffed bitterly, headed for my plane all the same. “Lieutenant Bradshaw!” Dad barked eventually, causing Rooster to stop. I watched from the nose of my F-18 as Bradley turned, towering over my father. Angry at him, angry at me, seemingly angry at the world. It felt like a bullet entered my chest as I watched them interact, so very different from the memories of my youth. It felt like a black sludge was slowly creeping over them, infecting the happiness of the past with the reality of now. I wished things could go back to the way they used to be. I wished Goose didn’t die, that he’d had been there to raise his son, I wish his accident hadn’t scared his wife to death and pressued my father to make a deathbed promise. I wish Uncle Ice hadn’t helped my father pull Bradley’s papers, I wished Bradley would just understand my father only had his best interest in mind. I wished for a lot of things, things that would never come true, things that I couldn’t change but still weighed me down like a ton of bricks all the same.

Suddenly and all at once I shook that pain right out of my body, flapping my arms and hopping from one foot to the other, rolling my shoulders and neck and refocusing, readying myself to do my job. I wasn’t here to reminisce on the past, I was here to do a job and do it better than the men and women around me. I was here to live up to my father’s legacy. If we were going up against Maverick, there was no room in my head for anything other than the strategy and skill I knew I possessed, because I knew he was going to give us a run for our money.

And sure enough, he did. We dropped like flies, one by one by one. The pilot in me was frustrated, but the little girl in me was amazed. Never did I think I’d get to see my dad fly, witness firsthand why I was the daughter of a living legend who actually lived up to the legend. But up there in that cockpit, I got to watch him become Maverick, picking us off like lemmings led to slaughter.

First ones down was Rooster, who reaped what Payback and Fanboy sewed as the first victim of their idiotic two hundred pushup bet.

“That should be us down there.” Payback mused as we watched from the window while Hondo counted off Rooster’s pushups. I nodded.

“But it’s not. And now you know a little something about Rooster.” I replied, eyes lingering for just a little while longer before I turned and headed off for my time in the sky.

Next was myself, with Harvard and Yale as my wingmen. Much to my disdain, they’d stopped to take a selfie with Bradley as he did his pushups, which I found to be in poor taste. Dad killed them fairly easily once we got into the sky, but I put up enough of a fight to make him sweat before he finally caught tone. The sun was hot and my arms ached but I had to admit, I was all smiles as we hit the tarmac for our pushups, listening to Hondo taunt the Ivy Leagues about their selfie with Rooster.

Following them was Hangman, with Phoenix and Bob supporting. As much as I hated to admit it, Lieutenant Jake Seresin was one hell of a pilot. He lasted a lot longer than any of the others, even if he did play dirty and ditch his wingman to get those extra seconds. Watching him do his pushups was just as satisfactory as the previous group.

Dad killed Omaha, Coyote and Halo after that, and sent Fitz and the Ivy Leagues for another round with Hondo immediately after.

My final shot against my father left Hangman flying between myself and Bradley, and I kept my eyes ahead as I clicked my mask in place just as Hangman began to run his mouth. “So Rooster, mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“What’s the deal with you and Lucky? You two can’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.” I rolled my eyes as he literally talked over me, like I wasn’t even there.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Okay. What about you and Maverick? Seems like he’s got you a bit rattled.” Even with his mask on I could hear the smirk in his voice, and Bradley rolled his eyes this time.

“Still none of your business.” He snapped, looking around. “Now where the hell is he?”

Dad’s voice cut through comms. “Been here the whole time.” Pushing my jet forward, I watched in disbelief as Dad pulled his jet up to loop on top of Rooster.

Completely inverted on top of Rooster.

Jake seemed to be on the same page as me, his eyes wide. “Holy shit.”

“C’mon,” Dad taunted, and I sighed heavily, slumping back in my seat in annoyance. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Fight’s on!” Rooster shouted, before pulling a hard right and turning the nose of his jet down.

“What is with these two??” Jake asked, and I just shook my head, watching as the two most important men in my life went head to head in a downward spiral. If I’d have been able to talk without choking up, I probably would’ve aired our dirty laundry out to Hangman right then and there.

“Alright, you put us here. How are you gonna get yourself out?” Dad grunted.

“You can bail out anytime!” Rooster huffed in response.

“How low you wanna go, Rooster?”

“I can go as low as you, sir! And that’s saying something!”

“What’s past is past, for both of us!”

“You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you?” Rooster snapped out, some bite to his voice, pain in his words.

“Yeah, well the least you can do is leave her out of it!”

I angrily unclipped my mask at those words, quickly wiping away the tear that slipped down my cheek and turning my head away from Jake so he wouldn’t see. The last thing I needed was the cockiest pilot I’ve ever met seeing me cry in the cockpit, as if I didn’t feel pathetic enough. I wish Ice hadn’t signed that paper to push my father through to Fightertown.

“Hard deck is five thousand feet, fellas. You are running out of room.” Jake was trying to pull them apart, I’ll give him that, but his words fell on deaf ears as my father and Bradley went spiraling further and further down.

“Your strategy is about to run us to the ground. What’s your move?” My father asked Bradley, and I gripped the stick tighter in my hand.

“Pull up.” I muttered under my breath as Jake and I flew side by side, eyes on the active train wreck below us, neither one able to look away. The further they went, the faster my heart slammed into my chest, leaning forward in my seat until I couldn’t take it anymore. “DAMMIT PONYBOY, PULL UP!!” Rooster suddenly yanked the stick and leveled himself out behind but above my father, and the shot couldn’t have been more perfect.

“C’mon, Rooster, you got him! Drop down and take the shot!” Hangman urged from my right, and I found myself agreeing with him out loud, urging Bradley to pull tone and take Maverick down.

“It’s too low!” Rooster excused, and my dad declared for everyone to hear that it was too late, he had his chance, before he pulled the stick back and thrust the throttle forward. Hangman and I could only watch as Dad’s jet glided up into a Cobra maneuver, before dropping down and locking tone on Rooster.

“That’s a kill.” Dad declared breathlessly, and Rooster hung his head with a swear while Hangman shook his head.

“Same old Rooster.”

I was the last one to land, having taken my time to get back to base. I really didn’t want to see anyone, especially my father and Rooster, and I was thankful that at least Bradley wasn’t there as I climbed out of my cockpit. Hondo and Dad remained on the tarmac, talking to one another, and I thought I could slip right by them when I caught my dad’s eye.

“Lucky!” Dad called after me, but just like Bradley had before, I walked right by him. I heard him swear behind me before heavy bootsteps were on my tail, and his hand snagged my elbow, just like Bradley had done before.

Something in me snapped.

I whirled on my heel and dropped my flight bag, slamming my fists into his chest as hard as I could. With a soft ‘oof’ my dad stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief as he looked at me, hands raised in defense. “Birdie—”

“Don’t you Birdie me, are you CRAZY?!” I screamed, the sensation unfamiliar and disgusting in my mouth. I never raised my voice, especially at my father and certainly not on a tarmac in uniform but I just couldn’t take it anymore. The anger between him and Rooster was driving me insane, there was a pit in my stomach that I couldn’t soothe and a lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow and it was all their fault, and I shoved my father back again. “You could’ve killed him! You baited him, and for what? To tease him??”

“To teach him!”

“Teach him what?? HUH?? What did he learn from that?? What did you accomplish aside from making things worse??” I reached my hand up and Hondo quickly stepped between us, a hand on my shoulder.

“Lucky—” He tried, but I yelled right over him, pushing against his hand and swiping at my dad again.

“You need to pony up and admit you did a fucked up thing to him. And yes I know Aunt Carole made you promise before she died and yes I KNOW you’re scared because of what happened to Uncle Goose but Bradley is a big boy now and one of the best pilots in the Navy because if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be here so you need to grow up, step back and let him make his own choices!” The words came out of my mouth like vomit, so fast and so quick that it left me breathless at the end. I slumped slightly against Hondo’s hand, watching my father’s eyes search my face. “You are so stupid for breaking the hard deck. You could have died.” That lump in my throat grew larger, hands shaking as one came to rest on his chest. “You are all I have. Don’t you realize that? I already lost Bradley. Don’t make me lose you too.”

“I’m sorry.” My father whispered, and I just sighed, all the fight having drained out of me as I stooped down to grab my flight bag.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” From behind us, a familiar, deep voice boomed out.

“Captain Mitchell!” The three of us turned to find Bates standing by the hangar door, looking less than pleased. “Admiral Sampson would like a word.”

“I’ll see you at home.” I patted Dad’s back, before walking off, completely missing Lieutenant Jake Seresin standing by his F-18, a smirk on his face. Likely because he had just witnessed the entire thing.

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hussyknee · 1 month

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I really like the political conversations in Will Darling. In Slippery Creatures, the bad guy has some powerful truths and valid arguments to put down that any leftist would agree with, until the logic inexplicably runs into a wall that only fanaticism can punch through.

“So Zodiac pits itself against the corruption of wealth, and the structures of entrenched power.” Libra’s eyes lit as he spoke. “We want to bring it down, Mr. Darling, all of it. The palaces, whether Westminster or Buckingham. Whitehall and the White House, the Champs-Elysées and Wall Street. The whole sordid structure of capital and empire, built on lies and designed to oppress the common man. Men like you, sent to war as cannon fodder for a squabble between royal cousins, then brought back and flung on the scrapheap because the country that demanded you should bleed won’t pay for your bandages. We want to sweep it all away, destroy the systems and begin again, this time with all men equal.”

“Sounds good,” Will said. “And that starts with spreading plague?”

“It starts with destruction. There’s no choice. When the French Revolution beheaded a king, they merely created the space for an emperor. The Germans made themselves a republic and cried out for socialism, yet their new national assembly is still filled with the upper classes, the same faces as before. If Mr. MacDonald’s Labour Party should be elected, how long do you think it will take before Labour members of parliament emerge from the ranks of the titled and wealthy? Power clings to power: that is the universal truth, and tinkering at the edges of the great structures of power will not change anything. We must raze them to the ground.”

Will nodded slowly. The light in Libra’s eyes was a flame now, the sort of flame that lit bonfires under people. He unquestionably believed what he said, and he had a good point, at that. “All right. But how many ordinary people will suffer when you raze everything to the ground?”

“How many suffer now?” Libra demanded. “How many millions died in the war? How many are dying down mines and in factories and on the streets because they can’t afford the rent of a room? Why do we count the cost of change, but not the cost of the world staying the same?”

Will opened his mouth, stopped, considered. “Fair. Powerful, even. One question, though: When we sweep away all the structures of power and start off with a blank slate, what’s to stop the same thing happening again? People want a leader. Say you knock everything down. What I’d expect next is a strong man to come out on top, pull an army together, give himself a nice big house and a fancy hat, and off we go, just like before. Well, just take Russia. Who’s going to prevent that?”

“And that is why we need Zodiac!” Libra said, as if Will was agreeing with him. “This isn’t destruction for its own sake, the childishness of the mere anarchist. Zodiac will bring a new order into being, guided by principles of justice and equality.”

“There’s my answer. The people setting the principles and enforcing them will be the ones on top, won’t they? So who's going to be the first-among-equals of your new paradise?” Kim had mentioned one of them. Will searched his memory. “Your mate Capricorn?”

In Sugared Game, Kim himself recounts his disenchantment with the Bolshevik groups he had used to believe in so fervently.

“Fanatic, idealist.” Kim waved a hand. “I thought there was a better way for everyone. I believed—still do—that the war was nothing but empires squabbling for resources, with the blood of millions used to keep the engine running. I refused to be involved in mass murder, and tried my hardest to be gaoled as a conscientious objector, though my father put paid to that. I sincerely cheered the Revolution in 1917 and looked forward to the British equivalent. And then reports started coming in of the bloodbath.”

“You thought it would be a bloodless revolution? Because you don’t get many of them.”

“I know. But the fact of children lined up and shot—I told myself the aristocracy had brought it on themselves, that they had sowed the wind and were reaping the whirlwind, but by 1919 and the atrocities of the civil war, I couldn’t hide behind that any more. I couldn’t persuade myself mass slaughter was the beginning of a fairer society; I could only think of how the French had guillotined their king and created a vacancy for an emperor.”

Well, yes, Will thought. Obviously whoever came out on top of any society would be a power-hungry arsehole: that was how the world worked. “You really were an idealist,” he said aloud. “Is that so surprising?”

It was, considering his grimy goings-on these days. Or maybe it wasn’t; maybe spoiled innocence tarnished faster than healthy cynicism. The thought gave Will the same uncomfortable feeling as Kim’s scars.

“I was sickened,” Kim went on. “Whereas my comrades, the ones with whom I’d planned a British revolution, were positively thrilled. They talked with enthusiasm about setting up a British Cheka. They wanted a secret police and summary killing of class traitors. Most of them were Oxford and Cambridge men of birth, I should observe.”

“Of course they were.”

“They revelled in the idea of mass execution, bodies in the streets. I can’t convey what it was like to watch civilised people go through the intellectual gymnastics necessary to persuade themselves that state murder was first a regrettable necessity, and then a high treat.”

“I suppose you’d need to,” Will said. “If what you believe in goes wrong, either you let go the belief, or you believe even harder.”

“And it hurts to let go. God, it hurts.”

The whole thing is like a rundown of how you get Tankies. Wanting radical change isn't a bad thing, but radicalism untempered by ethics and humanity horseshoes back to fascism.

#vote blue liberals dont touch this post #tankies #revolutions #social justice #totalitarianism #fascism #leftism #western leftists #will darling adventures #kj charles #october revolution #world war i #historical fiction #queer historical fiction #queer historical romance #book recs #book recommendations #knee of huss

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i-fucked-your-milkshake · 7 months

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do you have any tips for doing lit in grad school?

Stay curious. Take classes in areas you might not have interest in—if you’d asked me before I started if I would end up writing a thesis on Chaucer I would’ve laughed in your face, and here I am, writing a thesis on Chaucer.

There will be a moment where you realize that everything you’ve been reading across all your classes is starting to synthesize into a greater personal theory and that’s a marvelous experience. A fringe theory you read about in Rhetoric will be suddenly applicable in ways you couldn’t have imagined. Don’t fight that. Roll with it. See where it takes you. That’s where the magic happens.

Biggest thing though is time management. There will be weeks on weeks where you’re doing nothing but reading and writing. You’ll take a breaking from reading by writing; you’ll take a break from writing by reading. It’s exhausting. Leave room for the personal. Leave time for friends and family and self. I have a personal rule where I HAVE to have a personal book, regardless of what’s on my plate, so that I can remember why I did this.

Talk to profs. Set up meetings to discuss next semester offerings. Ask them questions about things they mention but don’t get into. Engage with them. So much of the graduate experience comes outside of the classroom. (Often, class feels like it gets in the way of the work, actually.) Talking to professors is a big part of that. They can guide you in ways they can’t in class—point you to books and theories and ideas that will expand your repertoire.

Similarly, talk to other students. I set up a summer book club for me a few other students and that morphed into a sort of intellectual collective where we all read and comment on each other’s papers even if we’re not in the same classes. Now we all gas each other up when we’re feeling low.

And you WILL feel low. You’ll be looking down a week where you’ve got 60pgs of essays due across three classes and have no idea how you’re going to get it done. You’ll be writing your essay and become beset by feelings of imposter syndrome. But you deserve your place in the program. You were not admitted to the program lightly. Your acceptance was not a mistake. You BELONG there. Having a network of friends is vital. They’ll remind you of that when all you want to do is cry. They’ll lift you up so you can do the work even if you think you can’t.

The group chat has the best niche memes, so join that. And there will be one. Someone in your class is in it. It’s probably a GroupMe. Find it.

And remember: it is insanely fun. Even the weeks where it feels like you’re getting your ass kicked? It’s fun. You’re going to improve as a writer, as a reader, and as an argument constructor. You’re gonna grow in wild ways. You’re gonna start saying shit like “ontology” and “praxis” and a world of thought is going to open up. Embrace it. It’ll be over soon and you’ll have accomplished something BALLER AS FUCK.

Hope this helps.

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ijellybeanx · 1 year

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7 minutes in Paradise 💖

POV: Maxxine

Dear Diary,

Today was my first day of high school and it was even fun, the teachers were more open to discussions and the classes were more interesting, I had a lot of fun, which was pretty strange considering that nobody likes school, I went to only student who came from my old school to Waverly Highschool so I didn't have any friends, I spent my lunch reading in a corner of the cafeteria since I didn't know anyone and it seemed like everyone already had their classes, I didn't want to be the fish out of water, but anyway that's how I felt, but it was good, cutting out the part where I got confused and ended up going into the boys' bathroom 🙄, but on the other hand I ended up meeting the most handsome boy I've ever seen in the world, he's tall very tall guy with a perfect smile blue eyes and dark hair i think he must be a senior but i didnt like what i saw him doing he was smoking obviously something about him had to be wrong there is no such thing as perfect 🤭, we stare at each other Walking for a few seconds was when he interrupted the silence and said in a hoarse voice:

_ Are you lost? - Soon I could see that he wasn't from here, because his voice had a different intonation, so I accidentally walked back and looked around realizing where I was, I felt my face turn red and I just apologized and left in a hurry hearing the door slamming behind me me, I felt weird and at the same time good, I went to class since the bell rang and I didn't want to take detention on my first day, but that boy's look and his low and husky voice didn't leave my thoughts.

POV Gael:

I was so pissed off about a little argument I had with my "girlfriend" Hannah about going to yet another stupid prom at that damn school that always had this crap all year long, it was summer prom, winter prom and all, and Hannah wanted to it's in everyone, because I liked being the queen of them all, I don't even know why I was still dating the girl, she was boring and tiring, but I think it was because of the sex, I don't know, she told everyone that we were dating, but for me she was just another one i f*cked whenever i felt like it but i didn't care about her at all, i needed a cigarette and i went to the bathroom praying they wouldn't catch me since it was raining. I took my pack of cigarettes put one in my mouth and lit it, took a deep drag and let it out, I automatically felt myself relax, I stood next to the half-open window and tried to blow all the air out there, I took out my cell phone to see if there were any messages or calls lost from my friend Johnny, when I was surprised by a girl who entered a bit bewildered, we stared at each other, she was simple, but filled the space with her angelic beauty, so without thinking too much I asked if she was lost, she in turn just stuttered something that I understood as "sorry" and he left the door almost running, when he knocked on the door I noticed that something had fallen out of his backpack, it looked like a keychain, I took another deep drag and threw the cigarette still halfway through the window and walked to the door and I bent down, I picked up the key chain, it had some keys and a teddy bear ornament that was old and a little worn, but it smelled like a soft sweet perfume, I put it in my pocket when I sit down my phone vibrates and I took it out of my pocket , it was a message from Johnny, I opened it and started reading it as I walked out the door and walked to American history class, but as I walked and thought about what to reply I thought of the blonde girl, medium height and big eyes who looked at me so deeply.

#fanfic #hero fiennes tiffin #kristine froseth #original fiction

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Ok but like, what if MC's fandom starts to make ships with MC and the guys. Just think about the ship wars, the fancams, the fanarts, the absolute CHAOS when the brothers find out. It would be even worse if they start shipping MC with the undatables, one day everything is normal and the next day there are ship wars fighting over MC x Barbatos vs MC x Solomon (who are both very smug about it)

The MC's Fanclub are… Shippers?!

Perhaps… The italics blurb has been fulfilling its greater purpose all along…? Perhaps in its state of existential angst, it has in fact developed a plot of its own… An arc of introspection and self-discovery in which its own longing for purpose has forged a meaningful identity… It now has… a story…

Lucifer

As if they couldn't get any MORE frustrating…

He's not an otaku. He's not a part of ship culture. He's not even sure why anyone would care about who dates who around this school, but apparently it's a big deal to some people...

He only became aware of their interest in him and the MC's relationship through some very… subtle clues…

Like the groups that would follow them around in the hallways with their phones out.

Or the multitude of fan rumors about their relationship that Satan spams him with from time to time just to irritate him.

"MC refused hug from Luci in halls today!! Are they bout breakup??? 🥺"

"Tots got pic of kiss today!! Relationship upgrade??"

"IS ARE MC+LUCIFER SECET LVRS?!? PLEASE RESPOND"

It only got worse after he found out the MC gets shipped out a loooooot….

If he had to pick his least favorite ship, it'd be MC x Mammon. He can kind of see it with any of his other brothers (admittedly, Levi is also a little mystifying) but the idea of them ending up with Mammon makes his skin crawl...

He once found a drawing of the MC and Mammon in an… explicit position in one of the classrooms and he was so disgusted that he wouldn’t even touch it. He just set fire to the paper outright. Disgusting...

Mammon

Shipping, eh…? More money making opportunities!

Has some passing idea of what shipping is from Levi and, from what he knows of it, shippers eat cutesy couples stuff right up!! If all he's got to do to make bank is to look all couple-y around the MC then sounds like a win-win to him!

He'll happily pose for a photo or two (paid in advance) of him throwing his arm around the MC or something. Want him to hold their hand? Sure thing!

But since this is still Mammon we're talking about, the second MC actually starts getting into any of it he'll still turn into a blushy, stuttery mess...

For WEEKS the headline picture on so many of their fans' blogs was an image of him turning beet red while the MC kissed him on the cheek. (A fan really got their money's worth there... 😏)

Though he doesn’t exactly like the MC getting shipped with other people, he'll still totally sell pictures of any of them together. He almost paid off an entire credit card with the money he got from the t-shirt sales of the MC and Satan!

If he had to point to one ship he doesn't like it's either MC x Asmo or MC x Levi. His opinion, but Asmo won't treat them right and they could do waaay better than a shut-in. Like him. Ship the MC with just the Great Mammon, got it?

Leviathan

… Lowkey super active in the MC shipping community but is a self-shipper to the extreme.

Like, he never uses his real name on anything (and would probably die from embarrassment if anyone ever found out) but a lot of their fans probably know a couple of his aliases.

He does everything from mod forums, runs a couple blogs, even anonymously posts his own work of him and MC that are totally not his secret fantasy dates or AU versions of themselves, shaddup.

It’s a lot easier for him to keep his involvement secret because he’s hardly at RAD, but the few times he does show up he tries to keep an eye out for anybody prowling for pictures so he can get in a good pose and save the image later.

Mind you, his version of a “good pose” rarely gets more spicy than linking pinkies, but even then he’s still lit up a Christmas Tree throughout.

Naturally, he’s also not a big fan of any ships that aren’t just him and MC and he can find a reason to be jealous at almost anything. But he keeps a special corner of hate for MC x Mammon and MC x Diavolo. Like, the first one doesn’t even need an explanation but MC x Diavolo?? Really??? Do those two even talk?? (please, please, please make sure they never actually talk because a guy like him versus literal royalty? He’d lose MC for sure….!! 😫)

Satan

He hates to actually agree with Lucifer on something, but their fans are starting to get out of hand...

Knows what shipping is in concept, he may have done it once or twice to characters in his books, but he was kind of surprised how it could evolve into such a… group activity?

He was pretty quick to pick up that the MC’s fans had a bit more interest in them together than they did when they both were apart…

I mean, those hideous shirts that Mammon was pedaling were kind of a dead giveaway…

Considering he finds their fanclub all rather annoying, even without their bizarre interest in his love life, when they started actively meddling with him and the MC he was ready to smash some heads.

No. He will not stop for pictures. No. What things they do together is none of your business. No. He has zero interest in seeing your explicit fanart and if you don’t start running that will be the last question you ever ask.

He DOES, however, appreciate the cringy “annoy Lucifer” ammo. They could keep that up for a lifetime... 😏

He doesn’t have a least favorite ship because he doesn’t care about any of this, leave him alone. (That’s a lie, it’s MC x Lucifer. He pokes fun at Lucifer, but he can’t stand it either. Big shock, I know 🙄).

Asmodeus

Oh he is shamelessly a part of the community, are you kidding??

He could practically call “Shipping the MC” one of his favorite pastimes. He’ll openly gossip with their fanclub about who they’ve been with, who they’re seeing, who’s got a chance, etc… He lives for this shit!

He’s the only person who knows that Levi is also in the community and what his aliases are (not because he told him, but because Levi’s not as subtle as he thinks he is… Who else would call themselves “SupremeRuri666” and speak mostly in outdated chat lingo?) but he doesn’t out him because he thinks his very obvious crush is kind of cute.

Plus, Levi needs the outlet waaaay more than him…

Doesn’t stop him from constantly trolling him and getting into arguments over who the MC would be better with though (the two are “virtual nemeses” as far as Levi is concerned).

Appreciates all forms of expression that comes out of the community (especially the saucy kind 😏) and will happily feed into his own shippers without a care in the world.

Truthfully, Asmo will say that there isn’t a ship he doesn’t like but if someone mentions one that he thinks is kind of “eh,” he’ll just add himself into the mix. “Oh, you like MC x Barbatos? Well how about Asmo x MC x Barbatos? That sounds loads more interesting doesn’t it??”

Beelzebub

Oh, Beel… Sweet, sweet Beel… Beel doesn’t even know what their club is doing…

Because Beel has a reputation of being pretty protective of MC - and against the fanclub in general - the club keeps a healthy distance… but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to sneak in some picture or make a SHITLOAD of fanwork about them.

Between classes and practice Beel is a busy guy, so sometimes he just doesn’t notice that there’s people hiding behind trees when he’s out with MC.

Honestly, his complete ignorance of it all makes it even cuter because when he acts sweet, it’s not just for the camera. That’s the real deal.

Mammon was the one who eventually let it slip that there was even shipping happening and Beel was… kind of creeped out because isn’t this stalking? But also kind of weirdly happy(?) that MC x Beel was so popular… Very conflicted boy here.

He never actually acknowledges the community, though, and just keeps on being Beel (which still gave the fans more than enough material so all’s well that ends well?)

Beel genuinely doesn’t have a least favorite ship (because he believes the best ship is whoever makes the MC happy) but his second favorite under himself is probably MC x Belphie. They look very cute together... 😊

Belphegor

Ride or die, Beel x MC x Belphie.

Just kidding (kind of), Belphie isn’t into the shipping but if asked he’d be pretty okay with that one.

His campaign against the MC’s fanclub and their attention stealing ways means that he found out about their shipping thing only slightly ahead of Beel when Mammon was trying to get pictures of them napping together…

Honestly, he couldn’t care less if a bunch of weirdos were weirdly invested in their relationship, but he’s not about to let Mammon just make a quick Grimm off of it. Belphie makes sure that he gives him NOTHING to work with.

Since Mammon is the main dealer, the shippers in both the MC fanclub and Belphie fanclub aren’t nearly as well fed and pretty desperate for anything... You best believe he plays that to his advantage (because it’s okay if he does. He’s not Mammon).

Really helps that MC x Belphie is legitimately a very cute looking couple, carried by Belphie’s cuteness alone if nothing else. Add an adorable MC and you reach levels so cute it could actually melt people into puddles of goo... They could be a registered weapon.

Least favorite MC ships are any that don’t involve him or Beel. Any others may as well just not exist, he won’t even acknowledge them. MC x Who? Yeah, that’s what he thought.

#i guess this is a series now #wasn't expecting that #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me suggestions

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned.

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation) ♡ (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen, and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk teacher aid au #jjk writing #writing

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.

"bitch," you mutter under your breath.

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him.

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing."

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done.

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement.

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!"

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.

"do you really want to know why?"

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

#hmu if i missed a warning #yandere doyoung #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #tw swearing #tw manipulation #tw violence #tw knife

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 2*

Part 1

Part 3

Y'all IDK what it is about this story but I can just write and write and write. This one ended up being 11 pages [on a google doc] And I only stopped because it's 2:15 am.

I hope you guys like this, but I just want to clarify: This isn't a Barisi fic. I'm sorry, if you're looking for that, just...this isn't it. I mean they do interact and it'll be fun, but they will not be ending up together.

That being said, enjoy this new chapter! I'm debating on how pathetic enamored Sonny is, I don't think I'm gonna go that deep. No worries, people.

As always let me know if you want to be added/deleted off the tag list!! <3

Tag List

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@stars-in-the-skies-world

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@objection-argumentative

-------

"Y/N, I'm so happy for you and Barba. You make the cutest couple," Sonny beamed at you while you were wrapped in Rafael's arms, huge smiles on all of your faces.

"Thank you Sonny, that means so much." You gave him a warm hug.

"Yeah….and you'll make the cutest couple in HELL!" All of a sudden Sonny pushed both you and Rafael off a cliff.

You were falling to your death when you woke up to your professor glaring at you.

"Have a nice nap, Miss Y/N?" He scowled at you.

"Um," You cleared your throat and straightened up at your desk. "Yes sir,"

"Good," he huffed as he headed to the front of the classroom once more. "Maybe now we can continue without your snoring,"

You heard the students around you snicker at his comments as You sunk lower into your desk and waited for class to end. It had been a long train ride home and then a drive to your apartment last night, you hadn't gotten home until around 2 am and had this 8 am class. As soon as the professor dismissed your class you booked it out of the class and out into the parking lot of your community college.

"Ugh, could this day get any--" before you could even finish your thought you got your answer. Your phone beeped with a text from Rafael:

RAFA: Hey killer, how's the bullshit county? 😉

That was the nice thing, then just as you were about to text him back your phone lit up.

SONNY BOI CALLING

"Shit!" You hissed to no one. "How does he know?!"

"Ahem….Heyyy, cuz," You answered it with your best nonchalant voice. That of course sounded totally chalant.

"Hey sunshine," His voice sounded relaxed, thank God.

"What's up?" You tried keeping your tone light as you neared your car.

"Well y'know I was just thinkin, I feel real bad about standing you up last night,"

"Oh, Son it's no big deal really," the fact that he felt guilty about anything made you feel even more guilty.

"No, I know you have a busy schedule and it takes a lot to get into the City and I just blew you off," He kept on with the guilt train.

"You didn't blow me off Son you had work. I get that--" You unlocked your car and got in, starting it so your windows would thaw. And your whole body.

"Well I wanna make it up to you," He cut you off.

"Oh?" your voice fell short. This couldn't be good.

"Yeah, my boss-- well he's not really My boss but Mr. Barba--"

Oh shit. Barba? Was Barba having a party? Why wouldn't He tell you that? Wait why WOULD he tell you that? Stupid. Wait, what was Sonny saying?

".... birthday, so you could be like my date," you caught the tail end of his invite.

"Birthday?" You repeated like a parrot. It was Barba's birthday? Oh god. You were really trying not to focus on how old he was. Don't ask. For the love of god don't say it Sonny.

"Yeah don't worry you don't need to get him anything, I got it covered," Sonny assured you.

Well, that was one way you could figure out just how much your cousin cared about his "idol". The more expensive the gift, the stronger the feelings were. You wondered whether you should ask him now or wait for the surprise. Maybe you should ask now, then his answer should tell you what you'd be getting into.

*So what did you get this 'non boss' of yours?" You asked slyly.

"Oh," now Sonny's voice dropped. "Well I, I don't wanna say,"

Fuck.

Don't panic. Do not panic.

"Oh come on Sonny," you did your best to keep a joking tone. "What am I gonna do, tell him?"

Should you joke about it? Hidden in plain sight, right?

"No I guess not, it's not like you know him,"

Whew.

"It's just kinda embarrassing…."

Oh god.

"O-Oh?" You tried to stay calm. "Why's that? Is it a gag gift?"

Please be a gag gift.

"Actually it's a new briefcase," He replied.

"Oh why is that embarrassing you goof?” You gave him a hard time. What was that in the emotional baggage department? Pun intended.

"I mean, it's more expensive than the one I own," You could hear the shrug in his voice.

Fuck. Don't ask why. Don't ask. But if you don't ask, that will be even more suspicious wouldn't it?

"Oh Son," You asked softly. "Why would you do that?"

"Well the one he has is as old as dirt, I think it's probably the first one he ever bought. I wanted him to look snazzy in court." He replied with a super eager tone.

"That's sweet," you were pounding your steering wheel in frustration. Say it.

"Seems like a lot of work for a mentor though," You closed your eyes mentally killing yourself.

"Yeah well," he laughed uncomfortably.

Say it.

"Sonny…” You didn’t want to do this.

“Yeah?” He was oblivious.

“You know you can always talk to me,”

“Yeah of course,” He assured you.

“About anything,” You scrunched your nose.

“Yeah I know, sunshine,” He half laughed.

“ANYTHING,” You reiterated

There was a long awkward pause.

“...Sonny?” You made sure he hadn’t hung up on you.

“Yeah, I'm here,” He replied softly.

“So?” You waited for the bomb to drop.

So…. He sighed. "I just want him to like me,"

Dammit.

"....Yeah," You nodded, cursing yourself.

"Yeah, its stupid. I'm stupid." He laughed again.

“You're not stupid,” you laid your head on the steering wheel in shame.” I mean the heart wants what it wants right?”

“What?! Oh my god, Y/N,” He scoffed. “I'm not gay,”

“….Sonny it's 2021,” you shook your head. “Sexuality is a spectrum,”

Right well. He laughed defensively. "I'm on the p in the v scale,"

“Ugh, Sonny,” you made a face.

“Sorry sunshine,” He apologized. “I just...why would you even think that?!”

“Uh…” You paused.

Maybe he wasn't fully aware that he had romantic feelings for Rafael. If you started pointing out the signs, he might realize it. But then you'd have a cousin going through gay panic AND then finding out it doesn't matter anyway.

"No reason," You lied.

"I just want him to like him so he'll give me a good recommendation once I graduate Fordham Law,"

"Oh" you smacked your head. "Duh. Right. Of course,"

That was completely legitimate. Maybe you had been misreading this whole thing. Now you just had the whole overprotective Gotti side of Sonny to worry about.

"Well I guess I could spend the weekend in the city," You shrugged as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“Absolutely!” He exclaimed. “My couch is always open,”

Not exactly where you were thinking of sleeping, but you weren't blowing your cover over the phone. Wait, maybe you should. Then he couldn't kill you over the phone. Wait, he's presumably at work right now. You didn't know how closely he worked with Barba, but you figured it would be a hell of a lot easier for Sonny to get to him before you could stop him from killing Rafael.

"Sure sounds good. I'll see you then cuz,” You smiled and hung up the phone.

------

Friday arrived, and you once again found yourself standing outside Forlini's. You debated heavily whether to go in or not, but you told yourself you were going to wait for Sonny outside this time, no more risking a sexy bar rendezvous.

You hadn’t really responded to Rafael’s texts the last few days, and you certainly didn’t tell him you were coming. Maybe you should have told him. You grabbed your phone to text him when you heard a familiar voice behind you:

“Y/N?”

You spun around to see Rafael dressed to the 9’s, smiling at you. He smelled delicious, mixed with the food aroma wafting out of the restaurant and the smell of freshly fallen snow in New York City.

“...Happy Birthday, Counselor,” You bit your lip nervously.

“W-What are you doing here?” He stared at you as if he thought he was dreaming.

“Sonny invited me,” You nervously smiled.

“Seriously?” He laughed.

“Seriously,” You nodded with a laugh as well.

“Did-- did you say anything to him?” He asked you worriedly.

“Are you insane?!” You hit him. “No!”

“So why did he invite you here?” He asked.

“He said it was to make up for ditching me the other night,” You shrugged.

“...The irony,” He smirked.

“Mmm,” You nodded with an amused smile.

“Well this is a very happy birthday indeed,” He smiled, pulling you closer into his coat similar to the night you had met.

“....Just don’t ask which one it is,” He warned you while staring at your lips deviously.

“Deal,” You nodded in agreement before he pulled you into a hungry kiss.

“DUDE!!” You snapped back before his lips were on yours for more than a millisecond. “Are you nuts?! Sonny’s gonna be here any second!”

“It’s my birthday, carino,” He made a pouty face. “Don’t yell at me,”

“Oh lord,” You rolled your eyes. “Alright, man child,”

He was about to go for another sneaky kiss when you both heard a voice from behind you.

“....Sunshine?”

“Oh!” You jumped ten feet away from Rafael when you turned to see Sonny standing there with a huge gift bag, staring slack jawed at the two of you. “Sonny! I um, we--”

“I was teaching your cousin a lesson in New York safety,” Rafael talked over you, his face completely stone. God he was a good liar.

“Excuse me, counselor?” Sonny raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. You just stared in speechlessness.

“She was standing on this curb holding her bag out for any miscreant on these streets to just wrestle away from her, I was just demonstrating how,” He gestured to your open purse.

“Barba I really think this ain’t that kinda neighborhood,” Sonny half laughed.

“...You never know,” Rafael shrugged. “Now let’s all get inside, I’m sure everyone is anxious to start celebrating me,”

You and Sonny both rolled your eyes with smiles; too similar of smiles, you noticed. Thankfully, he did not. You both followed Rafael back to a private room where a bunch of fancy dressed people were mingling with drinks in their hands while two long empty tables stood in the middle of the room. They all stopped and clapped when Rafael walked in.

“Oh, for me?” He feigned surprise and humility.

“Yeah right Barba,” A woman laughed sarcastically. “You’re the one who invited us here,”

“Touche, Rita,” Rafael smirked as he began making the rounds around the table greeting everyone.

“So are we allowed to eat now, I’m starving,” An older man asked.

“And I’ve got a son waiting,” A red headed woman chimed in.

“Right, right,” Rafael nodded as people began to take seats. “Sorry everyone, you know I love to make a dramatic entrance,”

“Oh trust me we know, Barba,” Another man called. “Your catwalks into the courtroom prove that. I think we have a montage of them,”

“Ha Ha,” Rafael rolled his eyes, then turned to you and Sonny.

“Sonny,” He put a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit next to me?”

“R-Really, counselor?” You saw Sonny’s eyes light up like Christmas tree lights.

Fuck. You knew he was only asking him so that you would sit next to him as well. And while you loved the idea, you knew how much this was toying with Sonny’s feelings.

“A-Are you sure, about that Mr. Barba?” You gave him a look.

“Absolutely, Miss-- I didn’t catch your name?” He played it so cool.

“Y/N,” You held out your hand as you re-introduced yourself.

“Right, well--” He shook your hand then turned his attention to Sonny who was still beaming like a kid on Christmas. “I don’t know how much Carisi has told you, but he is quite the promising mentee of mine,”

“....R-Really, Rafael?” Sonny blinked in disbelief, causing Rafael’s smile to falter for a moment. Sonny had never called him “Rafael” before, it was always “Barba”. Shit, maybe he had given him too much praise.

“I mean, you know, for a lap dog,” He quickly added with a snarky tone and a smirk.

“Mr. Barba!” You tried not to raise your voice at the birthday boy. “That is my cousin you’re talking ab---”

“No, no it’s fine Y/N-- th-that’s how we work isn’t it, counselor? He just gives me jabs, I know he doesn’t mean it,” Sonny laughed nervously, staring at the floor. He knew not to get too comfortable with Barba, why did he even try it?

“Indeed,” Rafael nodded in agreement. “But, I still request you sit by me-- at least I know you don't poison my food. Which is more than I can say for many of my esteemed ‘guests’,” He eyed the tables of people before him.

“Then why invite them to your party?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“I get that Jersey doesn’t have the social classes of Manhattan, Miss Y/N,” He smirked. “But here, you’ve got to do things to keep up appearances,”

“Oh do you?” You practically growled.

“Yes,” He nodded while a waiter brought him a glass of scotch. “Even if you don’t like someone, if they serve a purpose for you than you do what you must to keep in their good graces,”

“Oh is that so? So you’re only kind to people who can ‘serve’ you?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him.

What kind of Danny Zuko bullshit was this?! This was an entirely different Rafael Barba you had met the other night. He was kind, flirty, endearing. This new Barba was snarky and condescending, and you were not amused at all.

“Y/N, chill,” Sonny hissed at you. “This is just how Barba is, he’s harmless,”

“Yeah well you might not mind being his doormat Sonny, but I sure as hell won’t be,” You angrily stomped off.

“Oh my god,” Sonny muttered, wondering if he should run after you or not. “Barba, I am so so sorry about her,”

“It’s fine, Carisi,” He watched you stomping away, trying to hide the guilt in his voice. He was just trying his best to throw Sonny off the trail. He may have overcompensated just a tad.

“I-I should go check on her, She’s just a kid--”

“No, allow me,” Rafael put a hand to Sonny’s chest. “It was my faux paux, I should apologize to her myself. I was being a bit of an ass,”

“Yeah but that’s just you, Barba,” Sonny chuckled, trying not to blush at Rafael’s hand on his chest.

“True, but I forget not everyone knows me as well as you do, Carisi,” And now he was trying to be extra nice to Sonny to get on his good side, while cluelessly egging on his feelings.

“That is very true,” Sonny laughed even more nervously. “I’ll uh, I’ll take a seat and get our drinks ordered,”

“Excellent,” Rafael smiled at him, probably one of five times in the entire time they’d known each other. He gave Sonny one more pat on the back before walking after where you had stomped off to.

He found you right before you hit the front door, his hand catching yours before it could grab the handle. You turned and scoffed at him, your scowl still present after stomping off.

“Oh, come to appease me, counselor? How can I be of service to you?” You snapped.

“Please, Y/N,” He gave you apologetic eyes as he pulled you closer to him. “I’m sorry, I just-- I didn’t want Carisi to think anything was off. He already caught us being handsy, I had to make it look like we disliked each other,” He explained.

“Oh I think you’ve done that above and beyond, jackass,” You huffed. “First I’m too stupid to not get robbed in the city, and then I’m too uncultured to understand ‘high society’ manipulative bullshit?”

“I’m sorry, I may have gone a little over--” He started.

“But that wasn’t even an act, was it?” You interjected angrily.

“What do you mean?” He asked you curiously.

“Your line of you having ‘use’ of a person? I assume that is why you have a room full of powerful people you dislike as opposed to a room full of sycophants?” Yeah, you might just go to community college but you knew big words too.

“I mean, that is how it works--”

“Jesus Christ,” You shook your head with a laugh. “You know I understood for about half a second why my cousin is so infatuated by you, but I am losing that belief real quick,” You turned and started to walk away again.

“Y/N come on,” He grabbed both of your arms this time and pulled you close into him, your noses almost touching.

“Look I’m-- I’m sorry, that I’m---this,” He gestured to himself.

“But that’s just how I have to be in their world,” He gestured back towards the room. “I’m telling you, it’s a room full of sharks. If I show weakness or misstep in decorum, I’m nothing but chum to those people,”

“The guy you met the other night, that’s the real me,” He put a hand to your cheek. “I never get to be that guy, not in public. That’s why I was so attracted to you,” He put his other hand on your waist.

“I don’t have to be ‘Rafael Barba, the snarky ADA with a silver tongue,’ I can just be…’Rafa’,” He gave you an earnestly sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” You blinked in confusion. “I know I’m not helping myself but what exactly is the ‘ADA’?”

Your question brought that familiar amused grin and a laugh. “See, this is what I’m talking about,”

“Oh yeah I know, the ignorant girl you can placate--”

“No,” He put a finger on your lips. “The earnest, normal, gorgeous girl,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sure if we took a poll in here right now the majority of the room would be with you, not knowing what an ADA is,”

“Which still doesn’t answer the question,” You pointed out.

“I…” He tried to think of a way to explain his role in the Manhattan judicial system. “Well, the DA of the county is like-- the King of Lawyers in that section. Or queen, as my boss is Rita,” He shook his head with a laugh. Oh Rita Calhoun, the stories he could tell about her.

“So, you’re her king?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Eh, I’d say Prince but she’d probably say Jester if she heard this metaphor to be honest with you,”

“Mmm I like that,” You finally let yourself smile at him.

“A Prince?” He grinned.

“The Jester,” You gave him a tongued smile, settling against his chest.

“Well, I’ll gladly take that title if it makes you happy,” He kissed your forehead. “I’d do anything to make you happy right now,”

You looked into his green eyes, they were now their usual sparkling green hue, and you remembered very quickly how you had gotten yourself in this mess in the first place. He really was a sweet, charming, gorgeous guy. And then you remembered those were probably all the reasons Sonny fell for him too.

“Ahem.” You straightened up and stepped out of his grasp. “Well, what would make me happy right now is getting back to my cousin,”

“Oh,” Rafael’s eyes softened into a sad gaze.

“Rafael, I think he really likes you,” You bit your lip with guilt. “And you toying with him just now isn’t helping!”

“Toying with him?” Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion? “I wasn’t toying with--”

“Sit by me, Carisi? You’re important to me, Carisi?” You imitated his questions in a mocking tone.

“I had to ask him that so you would--” He started to explain, but you already knew.

“I know!” You stopped him. “I know, that’s why it’s so fucked!” You put your hands over your face.

“Carino…” Rafael walked over and pulled your hands from your face and held them.

“I’m hurting him every second that I stand here with you, and I--” You bit your lip trying not to cry. “I’m still doing it! I can’t walk away!”

“So don’t,” He squeezed your hands with an even sadder look.

“This is just--” You broke free from his grasp once again and wiped your eyelids. “We need to get back before Sonny comes after you,”

“....So where does this conversation leave us, then?” He asked you cautiously.

“I don’t…” You gazed into his puppy dog emerald eyes. “I don’t know, I don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”

“Fair enough,” He put his hands down in concession. “...But we really need to--”

“Yeah, I know,” You nodded softly as you walked back to the private room, Rafael trailing behind you.

All you could think on the way back was how in God’s name were you going to make it through the rest of the night.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba imagine'#sonny carisi #law and order svu #weird secret friends

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beann-e · 3 years

Text

“ let’s go“

“ excuse me “

“ I said let’s go . “

Your eyes creased as you leaned back into your desk chair —leg moving to cross over the other as your hands landed together in a hold on your lap. Eyes looking up at the male in front of you.

“ look at you looking everywhere but this messy ass desk I see “

you scoffed “ if it’s so messy why do you keep coming down here just to add on to it ? “

his head shaking a bit at your comment he had to admit he was a bit interested in your words even though he originally came here for a purpose. He had to see how this would play out. So yeah he’d play your little game.

“ huh mister prohero “ your face lit up in sadness to mock the male in front of you “ aw wait I forgot I have to be exact with my words when it comes to you because your emotionally challenged“

you stood up placing your hands on the desk in between you and the blond haired male.

“ the only thing ‘ challenged ‘ here is this crusty ass run down building I had to buy glasses to find “

“ ouu where are they? maybe they could also help you see this“ you smiled before reaching into your suit jacket only to pout “ crap hold up it’s not in there it’s something I picked up specially for you hold on “

“ what the hell are you looking for in there your taking awhile “ he spoke louder after a couple minutes seemed to pass and you were still searching around

“ huh that’s weird — hold on I can’t seem to find it “

“ find what ? “ his face made up in confusion as his eyes followed your body that was looking through your desk only to turn and rummage through the drawers behind you“ fuck is it really that bad —you’ve gotta clean y/n “

“ yeah I know hold on I swear I know where it is I keep a lot of them just in case “

“ is it important or some shit ?— if not I can wait I swear i’ll just come back down here tomorrow“ he sighed still trying to look over you shoulder “ I just came down here to fuck with you before heading ho—“

“ yeah no you’ll want it a lot of people seem to want it these days — it’s hot on the market “

“ well what the hell is i— “

“ AHA “ you screamed your hand stuck in the drawer as he tried to peek over your back to see what it was his body shrinking when he saw your eyes whip around to lock with his. Him going back to the cool, calm collected guy he was minutes ago as he ran his fingers through his hair

“ here look it’s limited edition these days “

“ what is it like an all might collectable or some shi— “

His heart stopped when he seen you fully turn around and smirk your eyebrow slightly raised as his eyes slowly went downcast on your hand showing off the freshly painted middle finger.

It straightened to perfection as it stood tall only causing the male to fume silently and speak under his breath “ what the hell “

“ look baku it’s the fuck you so desperately want me to give “ You pushed it towards him as you walked around your desk to get closer seeing the upset face he held “ aw what you don’t like it “

you sucked your teeth reaching into your back pocket “ here i’ll exchange it for you “ you brought your hand out from your pocket and back into his face as he started to shake slightly. You knew you’d went too far. Your jokes always went further than a person wanted you to.

You were fucking with him

He didn’t like it

He wouldn’t like it this time

.. He liked it

— he liked it

wait he lik—

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him face going stone when you finally seen that his lips were pressed harshly on yours. His moves were rough hands fast and quick already knowing what to do while you struggled with yourself over where to put your own.

No matter how many times the male before you kissed you it always felt differently each time. Your body relaxed into his as he smiled into the kiss only to laugh and bring his forehead to rest against yours “ your so fucking stupid “

“ but I beat you in class ranks in high school “

his smile widened he couldn’t even find it in himself to be upset not when you were having fun with your joke “ yes yes you did “

you smiled softly only to have it wiped away when he opened his mouth again “ but I beat you in jobs you asshole “

“ hey prick I enjoy my job “ he nodded his head as he moved to sit in your work chair “ yeah no no of course “

his hand moved to pull a cup of old coffee from behind your computer as he looked at you “ I would totally be able to tell— babe all id need is an everyday trip to your luxurious work place“ he lifted the coffee cup and held it to his cheek smiling softly to mess with you

he swiveled your computer monitor to the side to show off the millions of coffee cups you had hidden from his and your employees eyes

“ god so many— how would corporate feel about this knowing you’ve got all this shit piled up back here— it’s screaming that you overwork yourself y/n “

“ uh i’m mostly worried about my bosses opinion “

he smiled up at you only to shake his head with a small laugh whispering under his breath “ fucking stupid—you’re your boss “

he laid his cheek onto his palm as he looked up at you anytime he was around you it was like he was completely swallowed whole by your vibes. You were such a down to earth person and that’s what calmed him no matter what argument or how many there were you always found a way to calm him and the situation down.

no matter what you said or did he would always find a way to look at you as though you were holding the whole world in your eyes “ and what does your boss say y/n ? “

you perked up “ ouu good thing I have em on call let’s see “ you reached out to grab your husbands phone hand wrapping around it tightly feeling the many scratches it had on it’s back from the slams of it on the table after one too many documents he’d filled out the night before at work.

He was always so angry and mean—even to objects

Your fingers moved to put in the password as he looked at you head leaning back to rest against the chair as he moved the chair from side to side you having his full attention before he reached out to grab your phone sliding over to answer the call

“ hi is this big bird ? or also known as red from angry birds ? “

“ Ill let you slide with your comments because your voice sounds kinda hot right now and i like your suit — but yes this is your local prick hotline how may I assist you today “

A smile made its way onto your face as you watched his own just grow larger and larger over time “ oh I see so this is the one and only katsuki bakugou hmm “

you tapped your chin “ so tell me what’s someone as unimportant as yourself doing answering your bosses phone “

“ ouuu hard question “ he played with his keys that laid on your work desk “ I came here to ask em out for lunch maybe go out to go karts y’know since there’s a little brat at home who’s been dying to ride one ever since they’ve seen that shitty commercial “

“ mmhmm so please enlighten me what does this have to do with you answering your bosses phone “

“ nothing “

“ oh ? “ your eyes widened “ well I heard several complaints that you were just telling your boss what to do as if their not head of your company or in other words your “ you whispered “ boss “

“ yeah I guess i’ve fucked up huh ? should have actually dressed up instead of coming to get em’ in sweats serves me right— here i’ll pass the phone to my boss since they seem to look more business professional today — I don’t feel worthy enough to answer my bosses phone “

“as you should — nice to know you’ve finally learned your place“ you bit your lip at his quietness expecting him to go off or say something snappy but he only encouraged you to continue with a small smile and a head nod.

Honestly he was enjoying you he loved your jokes even if they sometimes went too far or if they hurt his pride he loved to see you enjoying yourself.

He’d rather you be open and comfortable with him and tell your horribly stupid jokes versus beating yourself up and thinking you have to watch what you say around him

“ fuck it’s gotta be the pantsuit is that why your letting me do all this—you douche your probably paying more attention to my suit than me “

“ correct smart girl —role reversal? “

“ we’re switching back? “ you laughed confirming his statement “ role reversal “

“ fine by me “ you smiled as he held out your phone to you and you held out his to him.

“ yes may I speak to y/n bakugou ? “ he stated as he spoke into his phone

“ mm i’m not sure I know them could you be more exact “

he scoffed “ yes my boss — i’m looking to speak with my boss please “

“ oo a boss —wife —plus a mother that’s a lucky catch you should be greatful — le asshole“

His smile faded as he stared at your eyes that locked with his . In this moment nothing could compare to the happiness he felt except for when he took his child to their first quirk appointment and received the good news of them not only having his quirk but yours too. Happily he wouldn’t have to deal with his kid getting bullied sadly he had a mini icy hot running around.

This was why he married you and this is why he loved you because what felt like hours of conversation had only been 10 minutes. He felt like he’d been transported to another world when he was talking to you. What originally started out as him just coming to take his wife and daughter on a lunch date turned into him on the phone with his boss.

You,

yet again being reminded that he’d always fall under you in status , in authority , at home, in the marriage , at work , and in his heart. Youd always be the one in power

“your fucking funny — a comedian really —always keeping me on my toes so yeah—yeah a real lucky catch— ‘m fucking lucky “

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weaselbrownie · 3 years

Text

forever | d.m

draco malfoy x slytherin!reader

summary : in sixth year draco started to drift away from her leaving her in the dark, until one night when she decides that enough is enough and tries to find out what’s going on in him, leading in her finding his dark mark

warnings : Mentions of blood, swearing, angst, emotional roller coaster draco

word count : 5k

Two weeks

It has been two weeks since you've had a proper conversation with Draco. You were quite confused why he was ignoring you. Sure you both aren't in a relationship, but you've always been close. You've always had a specific relationship with Draco, maybe even kissed a few times but nothing's official. All you know was that you were his and he was yours, it has always been and it will always be.

When Draco broke his arm in the second year. When you tripped down the staircase in the third year. When he got in a big argument with his dad in the fourth year. When there was a nasty rumor going around about you in the fifth year.

It was always the two of you against the world.

Well– at least it was until now, the sixth year, the year where Draco started to drift away from you. You have tried so hard to pull him aside and talk but he won't budge, always in a hurry to go somewhere or do something. You were about to give up before you saw him, he was leaving the room of requirement and into the abandoned boy's lavatory in the west wing.

From the moment he caught your eye you followed him. Sprinting behind him as the soft wind blow on your face. Draco was walking at quite a fast pace, entering the lavatory he shut the door with a loud bang just as you were about to reach for him.

Fortunately, he didn't lock it so you could slip in easily. Tiptoeing towards the middle of the cold room your skin littered in goosebumps, not knowing what to expect. You have never been here before so the outline of the room was unfamiliar. You made your way to the end of the room to see Draco scrunched up in the corner of the room by a large panel window, overlooking the dark horizon. He hugged his knees before dropping his head in the middle of it.

He was still, he didn't even look like he was breathing. You moved away from the middle of the hall and to the back of a bathroom stall to hide your body. Moments later Draco finally picked up his head again and fixed his position to sit crisis cross in front of the large window. His head tilted up to watch the stars, it was bright tonight. The dark sky littered with millions of shining stars. The full moon adding to the beauty, the soft light reflected onto Draco's pale skin making him glow.

Slowly you peaked out from behind the stall to walk towards him. He didn't recognize your presence at all, seeing as his focus still laid on the sky above him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" You softly said looking down at Draco and then up to the sky.

Draco let out a surprised gasp before turning around to look up at you. His gaze stuck to you as he didn't move a muscle, he just sat there, bright silver eyes wide open piercing into yours. You took your vision off of the sky and into Draco below you. You let out a small smile before walking a few steps towards him again.

"Can I sit?" You chuckled again seeing as you will be doing most of the talking tonight.

Much to your dismay, Draco didn't reply but rather just nodded before turning around to look out the window again. You settled next to the boy and brought your knees up to your chest before wrapping yourself in your robe. Even though it's late you both still sat in your uniform considering you both had extra classes today.

You smiled to yourself before turning to face Draco. His face was soft and relaxed, you could tell he's been stressed lately and this was calming him down. His eyes fixed staring at one of the constellations in the sky. You followed his gaze that landed on a familiar star.

"That's Draco right?" You whispered to him while looking at the sky.

He seems to be taken back considering he broke the eye contact with the star to look at you. He crooked his head to the side before opening his mouth to let out a few soft words.

"How do you know that?"He genuinely asked, confused on how you managed to remember one of the many stars in the sky.

You let out a soft chuckle before turning to face Draco who's already looking at you with big shining eyes. "I listen you know" You smiled at the boy in front of you.

What you said was true, Draco is known to drone on and on about the topics he's passionate about, one of them being constellations. The two of you have been sneaking off to the astronomy tower since the second year. When the sky was bright and you could see the stars, he wouldn't hesitate to start talking about them. About how he got Draco as his name or how his extended family's name is all made up of all the constellations in the sky. At times you would even fall asleep on him whilst he talks about the stars, he thinks you don't listen but you do, when have you not listened to Draco.

"All those times we snuck up the tower?" He asked with a soft smile dancing on the corner of his lips.

You returned the smile and nodded. "I've always loved it when you talk about the stars" you softly started looking into his eyes. "Or when you find a new book in the library– and you read it to me" You chuckled at every memory of Draco excitedly reading to you.

Draco's mouth hung open for a few moments letting your words sink in before turning it into a smile. It was a genuine smile, a smile he hadn't shown anyone in the past two weeks. You felt a little better, even just seeing his smile. He was silent but you could read his eyes, how they sparkle in the dark telling you that he was glad you're there. You snuck your hand on top of his and he gladly took them, flipping his palm over to close his big hand around your small one.

His smile didn't last long, as Draco unexpectedly launched himself at you, bringing you into a soul-crushing hug. He didn't have to say anything and you knew he needed this, so you hugged him back, snaking your arms around his torso and letting your head rest on his shoulder.

The two of you stayed like that for a while before he pulled away and moved to lean against one of the big pillars by the window. You watched as she scattered on the floor searching for the perfect spot and position. You kept your eyes on him, watching as the front of his white hair fall against his forehead. Not long after he finally settled down and parted his legs before extending it and patting the space in front of him, motioning for you to sit in between his legs.

You smiled before gathering yourself to crawl over to his arms. You set yourself in front of him, your back connected to his chest. You leaned back getting comfortable in his embrace as you looked over to the right to take in the dark scenery. His arms snaked to your torso keeping you close to him before you felt his chin on your shoulder, huffing out a loud sigh.

It was moments like these that you cherish most. Moments where you and Draco are most vulnerable in private. Nobody has seen either of you like this, the both of you have such strict reputations. To the world, the two of you were the great big scary Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N, the two cold Slytherins, the two most heartless students in all of Hogwarts.

But to the two of you– you're just Y/N, and he is just Draco. You're just kids who’re trying to have fun and pass school. You're just people who want to make it in the real world. You're just two lost souls who need one another to keep going.

So deep in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Draco calling your name. You blinked a few times before leaning your head against his, slightly shifting towards him.

"Yes Draco?" you cooed to the boy behind you.

"Thank you.." He mumbled slowly into your shoulder before a smile formed his lips.

You chuckled again before turning your head to give him a peck on the side of his hairline. You fixed your position and sunk on the floor even more and leaned back on him. He picked his head up from your shoulder and leaned back to the cold marble pillar, tightening his grip on your torso.

You smiled to yourself before putting your hands over his to trace his fingers. Whilst playing with his hands one of your fingers traced a bit too far up into his sleeves and you felt something that wasn't supposed to be there.

The skin on the inside of his left wrist felt different, it wasn't smooth like the rest of him. It was as if someone was harshly scratching on the delicate skin. His grip was strong and so you couldn't see what your fingers felt just seconds ago.

You start to worry, overthinking in your head. Is this part of the reason Draco has been so distant? What has he been doing? There was nothing more you want to do than just turn around and ask him but right now it wasn't an option. Draco has been avoiding you for weeks and if you ask a sensitive subject now he might just run out of your life forever. Pushing all the bizarre thoughts out of your head you decided to drop it and ask another time.

So instead of confronting him, you let go of his left wrist and just placed your hands on his forearms. Snuggling deeper into Draco you find yourself drifting. The cool atmosphere of the bathroom and the dimly lit room not helping you fight the urge to fall asleep. So with the last of energy you have, you push yourself up and turned around to find Draco asleep.

You smiled softly at him before caressing his cheeks and whispered his name to wake him. Draco's eyes flutter and he readjusted his position. Draco sat upright and held your hips, silently asking if everything was alright.

"We need to head back" You whispered to him with your hands still on his cheek.

He simply nodded before stretching his neck and getting up. You turned around still on your knees before bending down and picking up your bookbag. Standing up with ease you turned around once more to see Draco looking down at you. You smiled at him before you start to head for the door. You could barely get 5 steps in before Draco came next to you and took your book bag from your shoulder and slinging it onto his shoulder instead. You stopped in your tracks and looked up at him, however, Draco didn't stop. He kept walking at a slow pace until he reached the door.

"Well.. come on now," Draco said looking back at you while extending his hand in your direction.

You were surprised yes, but that didn't stop you from blushing before jogging up to meet him. You took his hand and the both of you started to wall down the dark hallway hand in hand.

After that night Draco has made more of an effort to spend time with you, he didn't run off after class like he used to, he even sat down every meal with you. Things were starting to get back to normal, but not quite yet. Every night after dinner Draco always has an excuse, Snape needs him or the prefects’ duties, but you knew he was lying but you didn't want to push your luck– until tonight.

You decided you've had enough of being kept in the dark and decided to confront him. You were about to do it after dinner but per usual he's already gone, running into the dark spots of Hogwarts. Slightly annoyed you decided it'll be best if you just wait for him in his dorm.

After Dumbledore dismissed everyone you practically sprint down to the dungeons and into the cold green common room, rushing up the stairs you went into the boy's section, thank Merlin for Draco's private prefect dorm. You opened the door and slowly crept in. His dorm was a little chilly, his books neatly stacked on his desk and his bed nicely made.

You shrugged off your robe and placed it on his chair before coming to sit on his soft bed. You took a seat on the edge of the bed and took in the scenery of his dorm before collapsing backward and taking a pillow to snuggle.

Draco left you waiting for around 15 minutes before coming back. The hood of your eyes started to get heavy as it flutters. Before you could completely close your eyes the door burst open revealing a flushed Draco. Your body jolted up in surprise, and you quickly stood in panic. Once you saw who it was you let yourself sit on the edge of the bed again.

"What are you doing here?" Draco blurted out in a not-so-welcoming tone.

"I was waiting for you," You said slowly as you stood up from the bed.

Draco eyed you up and down, your hair was slightly messy and your uniform was all halfway done. The top button of your shirt undone and your tie loose, your jumper raised to your hips and your skirt hitched a little higher than usual.

"Now isn't a good time love" Was all Draco said before turning around to shrug off his robe and placed it on top of yours.

You fixed yourself a little, pulling your jumper and skirt down before walking a few steps towards him. "Draco–" You started in a slight whisper tone.

"Go back to your dorm, it's late and I'm tired," He said sternly.

"Dray please–"

"I said I'm tired Y/L/N!" He hissed at you, turning around completely to face you.

You flinched backward at his action, Draco was many things but being aggressive with you wasn't one of them. You weren't scared, Draco would never in a million years hurt you, but you were rather surprised.

"Draco please, I'm trying to fix something here!" You talked back to him showing him that you weren't going to back down.

Draco only scoffed and rolled his eyes before taking his book bag that sat on the floor and swung it onto his shoulder. Walking past you and into the side of his bed where a large cabinet sat. You stood there, your eyes wide at his reaction.

"Can you not be an arse for once Draco!" You turned around and shouted at him which caused him to freeze while putting his books away.

Draco put the book he was holding on the floor before letting out a dark chuckle and smirked slightly. He picked up his head to look at you. Your face was red from rage and your arms crossed in front of you. Draco's jaw tensed and he backed away from the cabinet to stand straight. He mimics your posture, crossing both arms in front of his chest before slowly walking towards you.

"I wasn't the one to break into someone else's dorm– just to annoy them with stupid questions– when clearly the other person is too tired to speak!" Draco practically growled at you, his eyes darkening and his smirk dropping.

"Well forgive me for caring about you" You hissed back at the blond boy standing in front of you.

"Oh cut the bullshit Y/L/N! I don't need you sticking your head somewhere it doesn't belong" Draco spat at you, walking closer than before.

You groaned again in annoyance as you threw your hands up in the air, shuffling around in the spot where you stood. "You always do this Draco... Always!" You whispered the last part. "I just want to help you–" your sentence was cut short by Draco's loud groan.

"Piss off Y/N! I don't need your help with anything, I'm capable thankyou very much" Draco hissed in a sarcastic tone at you.

"What the fuck is your problem, I'm right here to offer you my hand and you're still pushing me away!" You shouted at him, tears on the verge of your eyes threatening to fall any second now.

"Well I don't need it– So just leave, I know you want to!" He shouted back at you, taking more steps forward closer to your shaking figure.

You were tired, your body aches from a long day of school and all you wanted to do was snuggle deep in Draco's warm embrace but here you were, screaming and snapping at each other. As Draco got closer you could see the smallest amount of tear on the corner of his eyes, he was tired just like you were. You pulled yourself together, if you give up now there might not be another chance.

"Just go– I don't need you here Y/N..." He said sternly, trying to hold back something big.

Your jaw tensed at his words and your mouth curled to the tiniest pout before you let a single tear roll down your face. You took a deep breath and shook your head a little. Your gaze dropped to your shoes as you were debating with yourself on what to do next. You decide that maybe it's time for a different approach. Trying to get him to talk clearly wasn't helping in any way.

With your heart on the tips of your fingers, your hand reached up to hold his. His eyes stayed on you, burning a hole into your skull if possible. Your body jolts in electricity as the tip of your warm fingers touched his. Draco didn't move a muscle, he didn't even close his hand around yours like he usually would.

Not giving up you stepped a little closer to Draco while your hand trailed up his forearm. Before you could move your hand even higher you touched the spot again. The spot you touched on the inside of his wrist many nights ago in the abandoned bathroom. Except for this time, it was a different texture, it wasn't just rough and dry it was damp. In panic, you tore your hand away from Draco and lifted it to your face. Your eyes widen in horror as you came face to face with blood.

Your middle finger was stained with bits of dry blood, you gasped as did Draco. Before you could do anything he started to shuffle backward, you froze in place trying to process what just happened.

"Dray–" You started softly just to get cut off once more.

"I told you to leave Y/N– So leave!" Draco started to panic even more than you did.

You shook your head again before tearing your eyes away from your fingers to look at Draco. He was starting to really panic. His chest was heaving up and down ad he stumbles while walking backward. His eyes were blank as he shook his head. Draco brought his hands up to loosened the tie around his neck as it was suffocating him.

You started to move towards Draco, placing your hands in front of you to try to calm him down. That's when Draco broke. All the tears he tried hard to conceal burst down his face, his breath started to get uneven, you didn't know what to do so you watched him as he slowly broke down.

Your heart aches just looking at him, Draco Malfoy, the boy you've loved for years on end. Draco fell back onto his bed and buried his head on the palms of his hands. Another tear escaped your eyes as you try to get closer to him. You placed a hand on his shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. He didn't look up or moved from his previous position, he just continued to sob into his hands.

You took a seat next to him before placing the hand that was on his shoulder onto his cheek. Draco finally looked up to see your tear-stained face, he sniffled a little before completely throwing himself on you. His actions took you by surprise but you hugged him tightly back, rubbing his back you whispered sweet nothings into his ear that seems to calm him down a little.

"Y/N you need to leave..." Draco mumbled into your shoulder, breaking the silence.

"Wha– No!" You said a little louder than he did as your eyes widened in surprise

"I'm not going anywhere Draco– We'll get through this, w-whatever this is– I'm not gonna leav–" You were cut off by Draco once more when he tore away from your arms to stand up.

"You don't get it Y/N! I'm dangerous–I could hurt you!" He shouted in frustration as his hand flew up to his blond locks

"Draco what could you possibly do to hurt me?" You stood up in front of him, confused about why he wants you to leave so badly.

Draco shuffled around for a little, groaning in frustration every once in a while before streaming down tears on his face again. You didn't know what to do so you stayed in your spot, hugging your figure as you watched the boy in front of you.

"Draco I'm sure it isn’t that bad– We can figure something out and then w–"

"I’m a death eater!" Draco shouted at you, shutting you up.

As if all the love in the world was sucked, you stood staring at the figure in front of you. Your eyes widened at the realization of what Draco just said. You couldn't bring yourself to give a big reaction, you silently stood back let your tears out.

"N-no.." You chocked out still not moving from your previous state.

"Yes Y/N, I can't protect you anymore you have to leave!" Draco murmured, looking down onto the floor in shame.

"No– Y-you can’t possibly be a death eater–" You said to him shaking your head in disbelief.

"And why not Y/N? My dad's a death eater my whole family are death eaters! I was next in line and it was time–" Draco started as he stutters his words towards the shaking girl in front of him.

"Trust me when I said I would change the past if I could, but truth is I can't! Y/N I cant!" His words got louder as the frustration is getting to him.

"Every day I look on my arm and I see the mark of death, I am marked for death! And I tried to protect you for so long but I can only do so much Y/N– I've lost everything in my life and I can’t lose you too" Draco spat out, choking on his own tears and pain.

"Dray–" You said, standing still in front of him hugging yourself as you watch him get all his pain and anger out.

Before you could get another word out Draco aggressively rolled up his sleeve revealing his dark mark– surrounded by red scratches. You gasped as your hand flew to your mouth covering it. "Look what they did to me!" Draco shouted as more tears run down his pale face.

"Oh Draco.." You murmured as you start to walk towards him. When you were just a few feet in front of him you extended your hand out to take his one. You grasped his hand in yours softly before lifting it higher. Your eyes scan his arm, every detail of the dark mark, every end of scar from his scratches.

You finally let go of his arm and your hand snaked up to hold his face. His tears seemed to have stopped but each drop was strained on his face. You tore your gaze away from his arms and focused on him. Looking up you could see his bright eyes peaked from his heavy lids and thick lashes.

Draco seems to notice how you're memorizing every detail on his face, he looked into your eyes before looking into your lips and back at your eyes. You noticed his little glance and decided to just go for it.

Without moving too much you closed the space between the two of you. Your lips pecked his slightly chapped one before cupping his face with your other hand that previously sat on his arm. Draco stayed still for a moment before returning your kiss with even more passion. You were getting dizzy as if all the crying wasn't already enough to knock you out, you were breathing hard against Draco. His arms snaked to your hips as he deepened the kiss a little. After what seems like an eternity you pulled away and wiped his wet face with your thumbs.

"You really thought I was going to walk away from you?" You softly asked, breaking the heavy silence that sat in the dim room.

Draco didn't answer you but rather just nodded in shame. "Can I ask a question?" You said again looking into his face. Draco looked back up at you and silently nodded again. "Why did you scratch it?" You murmured at the boy in front of you.

"It's stupid, but sometimes it hurts so much that I thought it would just come off if I scratch it deep enough..." Draco said slowly as his jaw tightens.

Your heart breaks at his answer, all this time Draco has been going through all of this alone in fear that you would run away. All this time you could've helped prevent him from hurting himself but you didn't. You cursed yourself for not asking sooner. You nodded when he finished his statement and hugged him. Your arms making way to the back of his neck as you rested your head on his shoulder, Draco holding on to you tighter in fear you might just disappear if he didn't.

You lead him away from the spot where you stood and towards his connecting bathroom, stopping at his dresser to take out a jumper and some random sweatpants. You entered the cold bathroom and goosebumps started to form on your skin. Slowly you backed him up against the sink countertop as he leaned on the edge.

"You need to change," You said softly to the boy in front of you.

"Can you help?" Draco said as he placed a hand onto your arm when you were just about to leave the bathroom.

You smiled up to the boy before nodding. You brushed a fallen hair behind your ear before placing your hands on the bottom of his jumper. Slowly you lifted the piece of clothing as Draco held his arm up. When you got the jumper off you started to work your hands on his tie, he kept his eyes on you the whole time. Just when you got his tie off he came down and attacked your lips with his again. You slowly kissed him back as if you've been together forever. Your hands continue to undo the buttons on his shirt, and when you got to the bottom you pulled away from his lips just to reattach them on his collarbone, spreading little kisses on his cold skin. You tugged his shirt off before you moved down your lips to his chest, after discarding him of his shirt you pulled away and place your lips on his once more before completely pulling away to get the fresh jumper sitting on the counter.

Before you placed the jumper on him you reached for your wand and held up his wrist. You looked up at him silently asking if he was okay and he gave you a nod of confirmation for you to clean his scratched arm. You quickly whispered a spell that cleaned his arms and wrapped them in a bandage. You placed your wand back onto the counter as you brought his wrist up to your lips giving it a quick peck.

You took the jumper and continued to dress him, doing the same with his pants before changing yourself too. You went over to the sink and splashed some water on your face as Draco copied your actions.

After the two of you got comfortable you lead him out of the bathroom and back into his room. You continued to lead him to the bed and opened the covers to get him in the warm embrace of his bed. You tucked him in, bringing the covers up to his chest and kissing the top of his head before you started to walk away. Draco grabbed your hand keeping you in place just when you turned around.

"Stay.." He softly said looking up at your figure.

You turned around and smiled at him before coming to the other side of the bed and got under the covers with him. You shuffled in under the covers to get closer to Draco as he did the same. You laid your arms out for Draco to crawl in and that's exactly what he did. The scent of citrus and mint wash over you as he snuggled closer to you, resting his head on the crook of your neck. His arms snaked onto your hips and his legs tangled themselves with yours. You closed your arms around his shoulder to keep him close and kissed the top of his head before playing with the ends of his hair.

"I'm not going anywhere Dray" You murmured into his hair as you felt him shift a little under you and fasten his arms on your hips.

"Yeah?.." He replied softly not moving from his position.

"Everything that's gonna happen after this, I'll be here, I'll always be here" You smiled into his hair as you make a promise you know you will never break.

"Forever?.." Draco asked as he snuggled deeper into you.

"Forever"

#draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #harry potter #harry potter imagine #draco x y/n

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itsallyscorner · 4 years

Note

so, I was watching the video that came out today and I was thinking about a age gap seb x reader around his friends like Jessica or maybe chace? And they're just hanging out and they both have this lovesick look on their faces and when she leaves the room for some reason they don't waste any time addressing how in love she is with him, and sebs glad bc they were kinda wary of her at first?

Hiyaaa babes! This is my first request so woohoo🥳 Since you mentioned the video, I literally thought of the pictures that were released while they were filming 355, and now I can’t get the image of Seb in Paris because holy shit he looked good. So I’m gonna be using Jessica❤️

- This came out so long, I’m a sucker for background info and can’t get past writing a story without one💀 Enjoy!💜

💌.

Lovesick

You and Sebastian were unexpected. Literally the chances of you guys getting together were so off and you guys were at different times of your lives. He was in his late 30s, already living most of his life as a successful actor. While you were in your early 20s still in college working on your doctoral degree to become a Pharmacist (It was the only major I could think of atm because it’s the one I’m planing on lol.) You guys met at the cafe near your campus. You always went there every morning and would spot him drinking his morning coffee with his nose stuck in a new script he was reading. You two would sneak glances at each other, admiring each other from afar. Until one day when the cafe was fairly packed and you needed a place to sit. You spotted his familiar face and asked him if you could sit in the seat across from him. Obviously he agreed and you guys talked, getting to know each other the whole time. When it was time for you to leave for classes, you guys exchanged numbers and kept in touch.

Which brings us to today. You and Sebastian have been going strong for about a year now and were approaching your second year together. Though you two are as happy as can be and are still in the honeymoon phase (even after a year), the first few months of the relationship were quite rough. There was an obvious age gap between you two, it didn’t bother you two as much, but the public didn’t react too nicely about it. Your parents weren’t too fond of the idea of you dating an older man, but after getting to know him they knew his intentions with you were well. Same goes for your friends and family. When it came to his fans and the media finding about your relationship, that’s when it went to shit.

The media made Sebastian look like some creep who was going through a midlife crisis for dating someone much younger than him. A few “fans” even claimed that he were a “groomer” after pictures of you and him heavily making out on the street were released. These issues caused some bumps in the road for your relationship, though after many arguments, you two realized that the only opinions that mattered were each other’s.

Now you two were staying at a hotel in Paris. Sebastian was currently working on a big project, “The 355”, something he was very excited about. This was one of the first projects that he was really involved in, from script to screen, he played a pretty big role in this project.

You were typing up a report for your class when Sebastian entered the hotel room. He was still in his set clothes, a light blue shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of Chelsea boots. He approached the bed where you were typing and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s school going?” He greeted you as he settled himself on the bed, laying on his side.

“Meh, it’s going...but I finished my report on time. Now I just need to proofread it.” You smiled as you finished typing the last sentence of your report. When Sebastian discovered he was going to film in Paris, he immediately told you, knowing you’ve been dreaming of visiting Paris. Luckily for the both of you, your school allowed you to do online learning (it probably doesn’t work like that but just go with it) and you were able to tag along with him.

“I’m sure it’s prefect, you’re a great writer.” He complimented, you hummed in response. Turning to him you run your hand through his short hair making him lean into your touch. You loved his fluffy hair but the short hair was starting to grow on you.

Sebastian turned his head and pressed a kiss into your palm, stormy eyes gazing up at you.

“How has your day been?” You asked.

“It was good. We got through a good amount of scenes without messing up, so I’d say it was a successful day.” He answered. You smiled at his enthusiasm. Sebastian’s face always lit up when he was talking about a project and it was one of the things you admired most about him, his passion for his work.

“So, you’ve been cooped up in this damn hotel all day. Why don’t you come to dinner with me and the cast tonight? You’ve been waiting to visit Paris all your life and you haven’t even been outside this hotel for days.” He suggested. It was true, you haven’t done much but do school work, order room service, and binge watch shows on Netflix.

“Are you sure they’d want me to come? I might be intruding.” Honestly you were nervous to meet the rest of the cast. You’ve met Jessica a few times but they were brief and she seemed like she didn’t like you. Though that could just be your thoughts making you paranoid, you were still nervous to meet the people Seb worked with. You didn’t want them to think you were using him for money or to travel around the world because you weren’t. You loved Sebastian for himself, not the money and the fame, you could care less about all that.

But they were still Sebastian’s friends and you wanted to have a good first impression on them. You didn’t want them to think you were just some immature college girl who needed money to pay off her college funds.

Noticing you were drifting off, Sebastian pressed another kiss into your palm and grasps it. “You wouldn’t be intruding, Jessica actually suggested you come along.” He mentioned.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, baby. Come on, let’s put this stuff away and get ready. We’re having dinner at the Eiffel Tower.”

“I— the Eiffel Tower?”

•

To say you were intimidated and scared shitless was an understatement. Here you were in the Eiffel Tower having dinner with some of the most talented women in Hollywood. Like seriously Jessica Chastain, Lupita Nyong’o, Penélope Cruz, and Diane Kruger. Of course Seb and Édgar Ramírez where there as well. Then there was you, NYC local college student. You didn’t wanna say you felt out of place, but you did. These were successful people who probably starred in some of the movies you watched growing up. Now you’re literally in the Eiffel fucking Tower having dinner with them.

Dinner was going smoothly, everyone was talking about the set, shared some funny stories, and you were keeping to yourself simply eating your steak. That was until the attention was brought to you.

“So (y/n), Sebastian mentioned you were in college, what are you studying?” Jessica asked. Everyone turned to you and you swear you felt like a deer in headlights. Seb nudged your thigh with his, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Yes I am! I’m actually taking a PharmD program at St. John Fisher to become a Pharmacist.” you answered.

“For your masters?” She followed up curiously, slightly leaning forward to you.

“No, for my doctoral degree.” You corrected her proudly. You didn’t want to come off as an ass, but you were proud of your work and you worked your ass off for it.

Everyone at the table was taken back by your response. Except Sebastian, who had a just as proud smile on his face. They knew you were in college but not studying something as serious as Pharmacy.

“St.John Fisher College? I had a cousin that went there, it’s a great college.” Lupita was the first to break the silence.

“So are you working in the field yet? For some experience?” Penélope chimed in. Sebastian snorted, “Oh she has experience, trust me.”

You chuckled as you softly smacked Seb’s bicep, “Well currently, I’m interning as a Pharmacy Tech at a hospital pharmacy. They’re thinking about making me a permanent one until I graduate so fingers crossed!”

As you answered all their questions about your personal life and your major, Sebastian couldn’t help but just admire you. Just like how you admired the way he talked about his projects, he admired the way you got lost in rambling about your soon career. The way your eyes lit up, how your hands moved while you talked, and that hint of a smile on your face. He absolutely adored every single thing about you.

Dinner continued, the last question for you about why you chose to do college in New York, which segwayed into a conversation about— well New York. As the others talked about their love for the city, Sebastian wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Your back was now pressed to his chest, both of you not listening to the conversation. You pressed a kiss to his arm and looked back at him.

“Hey you.” You hummed at him rubbing your thumb along his arm.

“Hi.” He gazed down at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle. The moment was interrupted by your phone ringing. Quickly glancing at the contact ID, it was the hospital pharmacy you interned for.

“You should take that.” Seb whispered into your ear.

“No, Seb that’s rude. We’re at dinner, I’m sure it can wait.”

“I have a good feeling about this call, draga mea.” He coaxed you. Having a feeling that he might be right you excuse yourself from the table. When you’re gone the table goes quiet.

“Sebastian, you’ve got one hell of a girlfriend.” Penélope stated as the rest of the table agreed.

“She’s so smart! What the hell, a doctoral degree? Kudos to her because the amount of motivation I would need to even try!” Jessica followed up with an amazed look on her face.

“I think you guys are forgetting to mention how whipped they both are for each other! Those two were in their own world over there!” Lupita pointed out. The whole table laughed as Sebastian was turning red. Of course he was whipped, he knew he was.

“I love her guys, she’s, she’s something else. The spunk she has, her intelligence, she’s-,” Sebastian began to list but was cut off by Édgar, “Out of your league?”

The whole table burst into laughter as they agreed with Édgar. You were also coming back to the table after your call. Sebastian spotted you, eyes connecting to yours immediately.

“Everything alright?”

“They gave me the permanent job!”

draga mea - my darling

#ally’s requests #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan oneshot #marvel #mcu #avengers #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader

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theholycakehole · 3 years

Text

Impulsive Decisions || Dream x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Dream x GN! Reader

Warnings: None! Well its my first Dream fic and it hasn’t really been edited so maybe that should be a warning lol but mostly just fluff :) Also use of irl names, idk how Dream feels about that so please let me know if I should change it! :)

A/N: Heyyyy... Long time so see! Um... so here’s a dream fic! I am done my first year of uni now so if yall wanna start up some requests I can try and do that again? Probably will mostly be along the lines of the Dream SMP or maybe even other streamers since that’s what I’ve been interested in lately. My requests have never really closed, I’ve just been inactive, but I’ll try to start writing again!

It was a long night of shifting between games with friends and discord conversations. I combed my hair back as my eyes grew tired as the screen shifted to a victory for the imposters. I sighed leaning back in my chair seconds before I got the last kill of the game, earning Karl and me the win.

“Wow…” Rae spoke up as everyone began to unmute.

“S/N??” Sykkuno piped up from his side of the call. I let out a little tired laugh as I returned to the main lobby.

“I think that was LG for me guys,” I spoke out hearing a few pleas against it. “Sorry, I’ve been streaming for like…” I trailed off checking the time, 12:30, “6 hours now? I’m ready for bed, honestly.”

“I should probably do the same,” Dream spoke up, him being in the same timezone as me.

“You guys really should leave the east coast, PST is where it’s at.” Corpse mumbled as I opened back up my stream chat.

“I know, I know, but I can’t get myself to leave my hometown.” I laughed out as I skimmed over my chat reading the goodnight wishes and the thanks for streaming messages.

“Well, I live on the east coast and I’m fine to stay up.” Karl joked as I let out a yawn.

“Does anyone have any fills?” Toast asked. “If not we might have to end it here.”

“Toast aren’t you in the same time zone as me right now?” I asked out. “Go to bed.”

“I don’t need sleep, S/N.” He commented back.

“Ok fair.” I chuckled as my little character ran around the lobby before going to the computer and messing around with the skins and hats.

“Sorry guys, I think all my fills are done for the night.” Corpse explained to the lobby.

“Its no worries we can always play another time!” Rae reassured everyone. “Well, goodnight everyone!”

“Goodnight!” Everyone chimed before signing out of the call.

I muted myself and ended my stream, forgetting to leave the call. I thanked the donos and read chat, making tired comments. I answered a few questions I managed to catch in the chat before ending the stream. As I was about to leave discord I saw that Dream’s little icon was still in the call with me.

“Lurking much?” I joked as I unmuted my mic.

“I thought you were going to bed?” He remarked with a small laugh.

“Eventually, I just couldn’t use my brain anymore after that last game.”

“I don’t blame you, you played well, y/n.” Using my real name rather than my stream name clarified that he wasn’t streaming either. “If you’re not too tired, we can stay on the call if you want?”

“I’m down, honestly, I’m just winding down before bed.” I mentioned as I checked my phone, opening a few social media apps to catch up on what I missed since starting my stream.

“So, y/n when do you plan on visiting? Sap and I are still waiting for you to come down.” He questioned, causing me to look up from my phone, closing it before setting the device back down on my desk. His camera obviously was not on but I found my attention on his discord profile picture.

“Soon, Clay.” I laughed leaning back in my chair and tucking my legs up to my chest.

“You said that last time.” He laughed a little more tired this time.

“Flights can be expensive, especially so last minute.” I made an excuse as I looked over to my second monitor and found myself googling flights.

“I literally told you I’ll pay for your flight to Florida, y/n.” He teased as I hummed in response, my attention mostly on the travel website I was looking at.

“I’m a big girl Dreamwastaken, I can pay for my own flight.” I chuckled before closing the website.

“Y/n your classes are done now, you have all the time in the world, leave Canada and come visit, please?” I smiled at his question before letting out a yawn.

“Fuck it.”

“Wait really?” Clay piped up, shocked and excitement evident in his voice.

“You made a really convincing argument. When do you want me to visit?” I asked before re-opening the tab and looking at prices.

“Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

“Thats not happening Clay.” I laughed before finding a date and hovering over the purchase button. “How about the weekend? It gives me time to pack and get some things sorted.”

“Yes! Perfect! This is so exciting y/n!” He smiled, his voice raising a little bit which caused me to laugh. We sorted out the details and eventually booked the tickets and talked about how excited we were for me to come to Florida.

I’ve known Dream for a couple of years now, mostly through streaming with friends. Obviously, I knew of him before because of the Dream SMP and how popular it got. But through the years we have grown close, this even confused fans. Shipping was natural and happened quite frequently, which we ignored in the beginning, but as time passed feelings began to grow. We never talked about it but the flirting and the comments we’d share both on stream and off-stream just felt so right.

We were both faceless content creators, and being this close was quite strange as we have never met or let alone seen each other in person. As I packed my clothes a couple of days later I felt the nerves settle in. I shook off the panic of what if he doesn’t like me or think I’m attractive enough. But it was hard to shake.

I found myself jittery as the plane began to descend. I peered out the window looking at the ground as it grew closer and closer. The nerves grew more and more intense as I knew Dream was the closest he’s been to me since we first met. I felt myself smiling through the panic as I reached to grab my backpack under the seat in front of me.

When we finally were able to disembark the plane I quickly texted Clay that I was here and told him that I was wearing a f/c hoodie so they could find me. I tried to find the baggage claim as I followed the people who were on the same flight as me. My phone buzzed in my pocket telling me that Clay responded.

‘Sap and I just pulled in, see you soon!’

I smiled at his text message and the nerves went crazy, but a huge smile was on my face at the same time. I opened Twitter and quickly started a new tweet to show my audience that I was on, in fact, a last-minute trip. I attached a picture I snuck as I disembarked the plane and made a quick caption before posting and pocketing my phone.

My phone began to buzz from notifications as I plugged in my earbuds and played my music while I tried to locate myself through the airport. As I finally found the baggage claim I stood by one of the conveyor belts and scanned over the luggage trying to find my own. A couple of minutes passed before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I quickly turned around, pulling out my earbuds to see the face of one of my streamer friends.

“Y/n?”

“Sapnap!” I smiled before pulling him in for a hug.

“Hey, how was the flight?” He asked as we pulled apart and stood waiting for my luggage.

“Long enough, I’m just excited I’m here now.” I smiled as I pocketed my phone after wrapping the wires from my earbuds around it.

“Trust me, so are we.” He smiled in return. I saw my suitcase and quickly went to grab it, Sapnap helping me as well. “Clay is in the car, we were struggling to find a parking spot so he pulled up and is waiting for us.” He informed me as he took my suitcase and helped me wheel it out. “He’s nervous.” He mentioned as we grew closer to the doors.

“Trust me, so am I. Other than people in my everyday life, you two are the first to see me in person, or even my face.” I said as I fidgetted with the strings of my hoodie.

“You’re in good hands, y/n, try not to worry.” He smiled softly at me.

We exited through the doors to see a vehicle parked up to the curb. I felt the nerves build up in my stomach as a head of ashy blonde hair exit the car door. A smile found its way onto my face as my eyes lit up. As the man walked around the car he stopped in his tracks and replicated the same, bright smile, green eyes lighting up. I stopped everything and bolted forward pulling Clay into a tight hug.

“You’re finally here.” He muttered into my h/c hair, pulling me in tighter.

“I’m finally here.” I smiled into his green sweatshirt, feeling at ease.

#dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dream mcyt #mcyt x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #mcyt #dream smp #dream x y/n #clay x reader

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

Impulse: Aftermath (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. The worst as happened, your dead. What have you left behind?

Warnings: ANGST! depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing, discrimination towards addicts, mentions of drug abuse, javi and steve have terrible coping mechanisms.

Word count: 2k (short and sweet)

A/n: So I felt bad about how I left it last chapter, maybe this will heal it? Maybe it will make it worse. Either way, enjoy!

Part 1 // Part 2

[1 MONTH AFTER]

The following weeks after your death was harrowing for everyone involved. Connie was beside herself and flew herself home for a week as she couldn’t stand seeing your empty apartment every day. Without his wife, Steve was falling apart at the seams. He was angrier, drinking more and his relationship with Javier was hanging on threads. Even when Connie returned he was unhinged. Javier was a mess, more than he would openly admit, it was obvious to everyone around him. He tried to find solace in alcohol and women but it didn’t work. Guilt surrounded him like a bad smell that he couldn’t shake. Together, Javi and Steve were reckless and ruthless.

The question of who killed you was still a mystery. The getaway vehicle had been found in Bogata a few days after the shooting, ablaze. Javi and Steve had waited for somebody to claim the killing but no one ever did. Cali and Escobar, even Los Pepes never said a word. Javier had tried to find your CI but they’d disappeared too.

As with any death of an agent in the field, the DEA intended to investigate your death. Today was the day that Javier was to hear the verdict. He was anxious, he knew they needed help if they were ever going to catch your killer and this could be the final push needed to topple Escobar’s power.

Alone, Javier drove to the embassy dressed in a nice suit and tie. He was hopeful, almost excited. If this meeting went the way he was expecting you would get the vengeance you deserved and this hell could be over.

He entered the meeting room confidently but almost immediately stumbled when only one man stood in the room. Ambassador Crosby stood at the top of the large table, he greeted Javier politely when he arrived and offered him a chair opposite. Confused, Javier sat down.

“I’m going to cut the crap with you, Peña. We are not investigating Agent L/n’s death,” The Ambassador said bluntly. Javier’s stomach twisted, “I’ve been talking with everybody that needs to be involved and we all agree. She admitted her drug use to me, her death was entirely so a result of her ‘extracurricular activities’. I see no reason to use any more of the agency's funds on a rookie who went off the rails,” The Ambassador lit a cigarette nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dealt Javier a nearly fatal blow. Javier had never imagined that to even be a possibility. He was in shock.

“You’re joking,” Javier deadpanned.

“I understand you’re upset, Peña, I do. She was a sweet girl, and from what I gather from Agent Murphy’s report you two were very close, but I see no reason to investigate further. She wasn’t a qualified agent we hold no loyalty to our usual promises,”

“She deserves-,” Javier started, rage quickly boiling inside him.

“She doesn’t deserve anything,” He interrupted Javier sharply, “She was an addict. You should count yourself lucky I don’t have you fired. You knew she was breaking her contract and you said nothing,”

“She was doing her job. She was a great agent and this never should have fucking happened. She deserves everything Camarera got and more!” Javier exclaimed.

“You’re right it shouldn’t have happened. You were her mentor, you were supposed to be protecting her from exactly that kind of shit. She was never meant to leave your fucking side, what in the hell possessed you to think she could have a CI?”

“She was a good agent,” Javier repeated, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“She was a kid,” The ambassador corrected him. Javier hung his head in defeat, “Get out, expect a call from DC too,”

As if this waking nightmare you had left behind you could get any worse, now this. It was another blow to Javier's ego that he did not need. Without help from the agency, there would be no way to investigate your death and no way for any substantial closure for Javier or Steve. You would become just another name on the list of unfortunate souls lost to this drug war. They had dismissed you as if you were nobody. They had cleaned their hands of your blood without a second thought. That was not a luxury that Javier had.

Javier was exhausted. The news felt like the final blow that had finally landed him on his ass. But he knew had one last thing to do before he could sleep, he had to tell Steve the news. Javier let himself into Connie and Steve’s apartment, the two were eating dinner together quietly. Without a word, he sat down at the table, and Connie passed the man a beer, which he took and swallowed down gladly.

“So? What did they say?” Steve asked, his mouth full of food.

“They said they wouldn’t investigate further because of everything that she was doing,” He replied after a moment

“Shit,” Connie sighed, taking a big sip of wine. Steve looked between his wife and his friend, put his cutlery down and frowned.

“What do you mean everything she was doing?” Steve asked, “She was working with us, she wasn’t doing anything wrong,”

“She was doing coke, a lot of it,” Javier said bluntly, finding no other way to soften what had happened, “Guess she got it from her CI, I don’t know but she tried to fix it with the ambassador before she died and now they won’t investigate,”

“What?” Steve laughed in disbelief. Javier’s frown didn’t break, He turned to his wife expecting her to be just as shocked. She wasn’t at all. She knew, “How come you know about this and I don’t?” Steve exclaimed.

“She showed up on the street after Javi caught her at the embassy and I took care of her, made sure she was okay. She told me everything,” Connie explained.

“At the embassy?” Steve repeated, not believing a word he was hearing. He knew something was up with you but he hadn’t imagined it could be that bad, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought you knew and just didn’t want to talk about it!” Connie exclaimed, “I thought you guys would have taken a bit more care with your teammate!”

“Hey don’t put it back at me!” Javi scowled at the woman.

“That's why you were so mad that day? Because you caught her with cocaine?” Steve asked, his volume increasing with each question, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it was any of your business,”

“Any of my- You’re fucking unbelievable Javi,” Steve scoffed, “Been here how long and you still don’t trust me?”

“I trusted her enough to sort it out herself. You would have freaked her out!” Javier said honestly.

“Look at all the good that did, huh? You got her killed! May as well have shot her yourself!” The words hit Javier like a slap in the face. Shocked, Javi couldn’t speak.

“Steve!” Connie exclaimed.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Steve spat, stepping up to Javi. Javi quickly backed off, glaring at his partner and leaving, slamming the door for good measure.

In the hallway, Steve and Connie’s argument could still be heard. Javier’s anger was stopped by the sight of your door across the hallway. Someone else had moved in already. The door had been repainted, the chipped blue paint replaced with a glossy green, the number had been straightened and the smiley face sticker you put on had been peeled off. The world was moving on. You were just a passing character, never meant to stay long. You would have left eventually even if you hadn’t died. You were never meant to be permanent. Javi hoped the pain you had left him would be just as temporary but it was likely scars would remain.

He couldn’t repaint over memories of you. The scuff marks on his dashboard from your shoes would remain. The chipped mug you had claimed as yours would still sit on his draining board. Shaky polaroid photos he had kept from blurry nights in bars and a cartoon you had drawn of him and Steve on the back of an invoice all sat in the drawer of his nightstand. Those things would last. Part of him wanted to get rid of it all, burn it to remove you entirely from his life and pretend like it was all some horrible, strange dream. But he wouldn’t. You may have been temporary but your impact on him was permanent.

The next day Javier kept well away from Steve. He knew he would still be resentful, rightfully so, and he knew him well enough to know to just give him some space. They could get on with things separately until it blew over.

The news that the DEA would not be making a full investigation into your death had spread quickly and calmed tensions around the compound and in the embassy immensely. The Columbians didn’t want more American’s down here if it could be helped, everyone remembered the brutality of Camerana’s investigation and if a repetition of such events could be avoided it was a win for everyone.

Midday came and Javi took a break from hunting through seemingly endless transcriptions of taped conversations to sit outside in the sun. Guilt was piling up again with Steve against him too, he only felt worse. He couldn’t concentrate. Between his thoughts and the constant interruption of people trying to be sympathetic, Javi had had enough. He wanted to be alone. A few minutes in the sunshine with a cigarette and birdsong would clear his head and he could be useful again.

Javier sat in the courtyard, looking out onto the training grounds and watched the recruits struggle under their training officers barking orders. He took off his jacket, letting his skin take in the early summer rays. On the way to being relaxed, Javier felt content. He didn’t think of you or Steve or anything other than the way the rays heated his skin and how the grass felt under his palm.

“Mind if I join?” Steve interrupted Javier’s moment. He too needed a quiet moment and while he was not completely over his friend’s concealment of the truth he didn’t want to struggle through the new emotions without him. Javier shrugged and moved his jacket to let his friend sit next to him. “Nice day,” He commented, not sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken at all since last night, avoiding each other like the plague. Javi grunted in response, taking a drag of his cigarette again.

The tension between the two men settled, they needed each other to get through this, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you man,” Javier finally spoke, breaking the silence. Steve was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to apologise first.

“It all happened kind of fast, I get it,” Steve replied, “She always was so efficient with things,” He chuckled. It was dark but the joke broke Javier’s frown.

“Bet Carrillo’s glad he doesn’t have her nagging at him all the time now,” Javi added. Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s going to be nice without their constant bitchin’,'' Steve smiled, he paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be quiet,” he added sadly.

The two fell silent again. He was right, everything was going to be quieter without you. Whether it was shouting at Carrillo for being an asshole, or singing along to the radio loudly while you're full of adrenaline after a chase, or even just your constant tapping and fidgeting. Life was going to be quieter without you.

“Ey! Peña! Murphy! Vamos, we’re going!” Carrillo’s voice called them back to reality.

The war wasn’t stopping for anyone, your death was just one of the thousands that had already been claimed by it. They would miss you, but both men knew they couldn’t let your short time with them hold them back. They would always carry you with them and their final win, when Escobar was dead, would be yours too.

NEXT PART

did that make it worse? did that make it better?

want to get tagged in the next part? let me know

tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @this-cat-is-dea @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @lesbianlena @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending

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rayonfrozenwings · 3 years

Note

your nyx headcanon was so good please continue with it and put more feysand and nyx using his magic

<3 <3 <3 Aww thanks. It's appreciated.

So I started my Nyx Headcanons with this post here .

And then I also write about Nyx’s nicknames for the IC here.

So now I’m up to Nyx as a small child…

He’s very adventurous.

And hasn’t seemed to have developed fear - whether this is because his parents have protected him so well or because he has the “I’m a big strong illyrian” mentality is yet to be seen.

Rhys and Feyre haven’t quelled this - they have instead fostered it when he appears to be pushing himself.

Pushing their buttons is a whole different thing and something he is also very good at.

The pushing of buttons is frustrating because he is clever - so They cannot stay mad at him for long.

One example of this was when he chose to fly from one of the top balconies in the main foyer into the chandelier. No one was around and he managed to make it to the large glass light. But once there he developed a sudden fear of falling - the ground below was tile, the stairs seemed too far and he didn’t want to get into trouble or have his wings fail on him - he was only starting to learn to glide.

So he sat up there looking at the night stars on the ceiling above him and just let his feet dangle. It wasn’t until Rhys went looking for him in a panic that he called out to his father.

When Rhys asked him what he thought he was doing, Nyx replied with “practising” and Rhys couldn’t really deny that practising was a good thing but perhaps next time they find somewhere less dangerous to do this. Nyx agreed and they walked off to get some dinner.

Another example of Nyx learning about the world was when Feyre was doing some painting with him, she would often take Nyx to her studio and they would paint together.

He was always painting on pottery or plates or models, just anything that wasn’t canvas. He once painted another child in the class, turning his blue skin black and adding teeth that stretched right along from ear to ear. Feyre sighed, and sent them to the bathroom to clean up.

After 20 minutes she went to look for them.

The bathroom was covered in black paint, black handprints on the soap, on the door handle, little black footprints all along the tiled floor because Feyre didn't realise how far they had gone with their special effects makeup.

Feyre directed them into the corner of the room above a drain and proceeded to pour water on them both from the Ceiling using her magic. She knew Nyx wasn’t nearly as covered in paint as the other Fae he had painted, but she decided a cold shower might encourage him to not do it again.

The boys sat in a corner wrapped in towels giggling while the lesson continued.

Nyx is clever. Not just smart but clever about how the world works.

He sees patterns and can sometimes predict the way an argument might go, or the way a stack of blocks will fall, or even which Aunt of Uncle is more of less likely to fall for his pranks.

Noone is sure when the pranks started, but they continue to escalate.

It started with sweets vanishing and clues left behind framing various aunts and uncles - Cassian was the Easiest to Frame, he had yet to succeed in Framing Azriel.

One of the most recent pranks involved leaving different family members belongings in other family members rooms. This would instantly have them talking about personal space and what was and wasn’t ok. While this happened Nyx was then able to explore the mansion as he pleased - it was always more fun when no one was with you.

He learned quickly that he needed to let the House of Wind know he wanted to explore alone, none of his pranks ever worked up there. Belongings would return to where they needed to be. Candy would vanish from the shelf in front of his eyes, and until he saw Nesta summon a pegasus from the house Nyx thought it was haunted.

Nesta told him the secret of the house and that if he was a good biy and kind to the house that the house would be kind back.

Of course Nyx was always kind to the house and started getting presents immediately when he visited and even had secret doors open for him when he was trying to escape someone in his family.

He loved his family, but alone time was sacred when you were so wanted.

The house was actually the start of him using his magic more.

While with Mum and Dad he was always watched using his magic, which is fine - but as he became more aware that he might have a lot of power he started to explore it on his own.

He didn't want to hurt anyone, and was scared what it might do

So the House made him a special place.

Deep in the bowels of the house of wind, was a special room, lit with fae light and polished marble walls, light came into the room from a window near the top of the cavern.

Nyx didn't ask questions but this room was where he started to play with his darkness.

To let it come to him from the shadows, to wrap around himself or the items of furniture.

He did once obliterate a chair and wasn’t sure how that happened exactly, but the next time he came back the house had remade the room exactly as it was before the incident.

By the age of 7 Nyx wasn’t sure if he had inherited his mothers magic, sometimes he wondered if it was even possible since she was “made”, but he had definitely inherited his dad’s powers of darkness.

He spoke to the house in his mind and wasn't sure if this was “house magic” or a beginning of some dematai powers, if he mentioned it to his dad then his dad would want to know why he was at the house of wind so much and he didn't really want to share.

He had been having lessons with Rhys since he was a small boy but everything was simple to Nyx, wrapping himself in a warm blanket of darkness was nice, but he needed to explore all sides of his magic.

His dad was also determined to teach him how to read and write as well as learning his numbers telling him that it was an important skill for anyone to learn. Nyx was getting very good at rolling his eyes during these lessons.

In the streets, There had been some weird encounters, whispering behind him or voices shouting out - but whenever he turned he couldn't see anyone looking at him

he had decided that he would ask his dad how his powers started since he at least grew up with magic - not like mum. It was on his ever growing to-do list.

Next anon wanted some date-night Nyx and another wanted some teenage Nyx…. so prepare for some teenage Nyx Hc’s to come.

Inbox is still open, It just takes me time to get to them <3 <3

I very much appreciate the love.

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ukulelecal · 3 years

Text

Bloom - Part Two

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: a bit more angst but def more fluff. implied smut. a couple swears probably. hella feelings. mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: here is the second part!! less sad than the first!! lol anyways, i hope you guys love it, there will be one more part after this! reminder that feedback and reblogs are sosososo important to creators x

series masterlist

my masterlist // posted on ao3

*One year later*

Devon’s new school wasn’t all that she had imagined it to be.

Her classes were great. She was learning so much and her professors were very encouraging and helpful. Everything else, however, wasn’t so ideal.

She wasn’t fond of her classmates. Perhaps she was just so used to her old school, but everyone rubbed her the wrong way. She had only found a few friends that she trusted, but she didn’t even see them much. They had attended undergrad at that school, and they already knew everyone. Devon couldn’t quite make her way into the friend group.

She wasn’t a fan of the city, either. It simply didn’t have the vibe or the excitement that home did.

Home. She tried not to use that word to describe where she once lived, but her mind continuously went back to it. She knew exactly why.

That’s where Luke was.

Devon hadn’t heard from him since she moved. She left with a very brief goodbye and good luck wish, but that was it. She held back her tears during the Uber ride to the airport and all through the plane ride.

Luke, now alone in the apartment, broke down as soon as she left. He should have been the one taking her to the airport, kissing her goodbye and promising that everything would be okay. But nothing was okay anymore.

It had been a year since Devon moved, and the now broken up couple was doing a lot better. Devon distracted herself with schoolwork and trying to find her place in her new environment. She took up kickboxing as well as a way to let out her emotions, although the muscles she was developing were a plus as well.

Luke still had the same coping mechanism he always had; writing poetry. He poured his heart and soul into countless poems. They were completely raw, completely honest. He held nothing back. Frankly, they were his best work.

Devon’s first year of grad school officially came to an end. It was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. She couldn’t say she was happy there, but she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to get her master’s, and she wasn’t going to quit. For herself and for her family.

A very unexpected text quickly changed any plans that Devon might have had for the summer.

It was from Luke.

“Hey Devon. I know it’s been a while and I hope grad school is going well. But it's official. My first poetry book is getting published. You probably don’t want to hear from me, and I understand, but you were always the person that believed in me the most. Thank you for that. Truly. I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m having a release party in a few weeks. Nothing big, just close friends and family. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she saw his name flash across her screen. Not a single word had been exchanged between them in the past year. A part of Devon had been wishing that he would reach out, even if it was just to say hi and check in. She almost texted him a few times, but something always stopped her.

Hearing from him after so long brought an array of emotions, but the one that overwhelmed her the most was pride.

Devon knew how much this meant to him. He opened up to her about it on their very first date freshman year. She remembered sitting across from him at the coffee shop on campus, and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about releasing a book. She found his passion admirable, and she had every faith in him that he would succeed. She was his biggest supporter through the years; she was there to comfort him when he got rejected and help him through his bouts of writer’s block. He always told her that she was his biggest inspiration. Most of his poems ended up being about her in some capacity.

Despite everything that happened between, Devon couldn’t fathom missing this momentous time in his life.

With a deep breath, she typed out a reply.

“I would love to come. It means a lot that you thought of me.”

The weeks leading up to the party were utterly nerve wracking, for both Devon and Luke.

It took Luke a few days to work up the courage to invite Devon. He was scared she hated him and wouldn’t care to come, that she would be appalled at him thinking even for a second that she might want to see him again. It took a lot of convincing from Ashton, a college friend that he invited to move into the apartment once Luke realized he couldn’t afford the rent on his own and that he couldn’t stand being in the apartment by himself, but he did it. Luke wasn’t sure he breathed at all in the minutes it took her to respond.

Now that she was officially attending, it left the two to question what seeing each other would be like after a year apart. Would it be awkward? Would they end up having another argument and cause more pain? Would they be unrecognizable to each other?

The uncertainty was painstaking, but Devon reminded herself that she was there to support Luke, and Luke reminded himself that he would have given up a long time ago if it weren’t for Devon.

The time finally came for the release party. They both hardly slept the night before. Luke was alone in the bed that he used to share with the woman he hadn’t seen in a year, while she laid in a hotel bed just blocks away. Things felt different knowing that they weren’t hundreds of miles away anymore, and the next day they would see each other.

Devon pandered around her hotel room all day, doing her best to distract herself. She scrolled through every channel on the television, but nothing kept her attention. She did a workout, but every song on her workout playlist managed to remind her of Luke in some way.

They day dragged on until it was finally time for Devon to get ready. She played calming music in the shower to slow her heart rate and took her time doing her hair and makeup. It took some effort to steady her hands, but she got the job done.

Luke had been able to keep himself busy all day. A couple of his friends, Calum and Michael, shared a flat that was decently bigger than Luke’s apartment, and graciously offered to host the party there. Him and Ashton went over there early to make sure the place was clean and that all the food and drinks were ready.

Once guests started arriving, the nerves came back in full force.

He could only hope that he was really ready to see Devon.

For her, the Uber ride to the address Luke gave her hit every single red light. She bounced her leg in the back seat, unsure if she was thankful for the longer ride or if she hated it. On one hand, it gave her more time to prepare herself. However, every passing second made her nervousness increase.

Time stopped when the car parked in front of the flat.

She stared at it for a moment, the fact that Luke was just inside making her fingers tremble.

She didn’t realize she was still sitting there until the driver asked her if she was okay. She quickly thanked him and climbed out of the car.

Devon slowly made her way up the walkway, reminding herself with each step that this was a huge deal for Luke. His dreams were finally coming true. He had expressed to her that he credited her in part for his success. He must not have harbored any major negative feelings against her, otherwise she wouldn’t have been invited.

She almost felt a sense of calm as she reached the front door.

She slowly pushed it open, Luke having told her it would be unlocked and she could let herself in. Once inside, she didn’t see him right away. She recognized some friends from her undergraduate days, but nobody seemed to notice her right away.

A tall figure came out from the kitchen, and Devon had to do a double take.

Luke had certainly grown in their year apart.

His curls were shorter in the back and longer on top, and it looked like they had been dyed at some point. He opted for a pair of glasses instead of contacts, and he had a beard. She had never seen him with more than some stubble. He had on a forest green sweater that she always said was her favorite; she wondered if he had worn it on purpose. She couldn’t blame him if he did, considering she was wearing the long sleeved, yellow floral dress that Luke always said he loved on her.

He looked completely different, but at the same time, he was still her Luke.

All of her anxieties melted away the second he looked at her.

“Devon.”

It felt so natural. It was as if all of the pain that came from the last time they saw each other had gone away. They both knew in the back of their minds there wasn’t any bad blood between them, as much as their breakup hurt. Neither had exactly done anything wrong.

“You made it,” he continued through a deep breath.

“You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Lu.”

Devon looked the same. Her hair was a little longer than the last time he saw her, and he could tell that she had put on some muscle from the way she filled out her dress a little more. She looked good, healthy.

Luke silently thanked whoever was listening that she seemed alright, at least physically. He could acknowledge that he went into a bit of a downward spiral in terms of taking care of himself when she left. He hardly slept and completely shut himself out from everyone that reached out to him. Ashton moving in helped, but certain days made it bad again, like when their anniversary and Devon’s birthday passed. He didn’t want the same for her. He wanted her to do better than him.

Devon had her bad days too. She did better at the beginning when she had so much on her plate, but once things settled down, she was a wreck for a while, not much different than what Luke was like.

He hesitated only a moment before taking Devon into his arms. He prepared himself for her to pull away, but she did quite the opposite. She melted into him, cheek resting against the soft material of his sweater.

Devon remembered all the times she needed a hug. Whenever she had a bad day or was stressed out over school or simply just wanted to be held, Luke was always there. He would mumble a soft assurance under his breath as he took her into his arms, holding her tight as if she’d be gone forever if he let go. He would whisper whatever it was she needed to hear at the moment, although sometimes it was nothing at all.

She didn’t realize how badly she needed this one.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Dev,” Luke whispered into her hair. He could smell the same coconut shampoo she always used and the warm, sweet perfume she always wore. It brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

“I’m glad to be here. I...I really missed you, Luke.”

The confession felt good. She tried to deny the fact that she missed him, but seeing him again, she realized how much she really had.

“I missed you too.”

Luke pulled away from the hug and kept his hands on Devon’s shoulders. The same blue eyes met the same brown ones. The ghosts of smiles tugged at their corners of their lips. Every worry they had about seeing each other had gone away.

“I want to say congratulations on your book,” Devon mumbled, fiddling with the small clutch she brought. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “I have to say, I-”

His sentence got caught off by a shout of his name from an arriving guest. He sighed and sent Devon an apologetic look. There was a lot that needed to be said, so much that needed to be talked about, but they knew that this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

“It’s fine, go on. We’ll catch up later, bub-” she cut herself off, the pet name she called him so often about to slip from her lips so naturally. “Okay?”

Luke sighed sadly but gave her a smile. He understood why she stopped herself, but God, he would have loved to hear her call him that again.

“Okay. See you in a bit, Dev.”

Luke slowly walked away to greet the new arrivals while Devon wandered off to find people she knew. She came across her good friends from undergrad - mutual between her and Luke - who thankfully seemed excited to see her. They made small talk and asked about grad school before easing into questions about Luke. She should have expected it, but she hadn’t talked much about the breakup since it first happened. It was easy to simply not mention it to her grad school group and they wouldn’t know the difference, but these were the girls that she called sobbing at random times during the day when she needed to talk. It was natural that they were curious.

“Did you two talk at all while you were gone?” One asked, and Devon shook her head.

“No,” she sighed. “I think that was best, though.”

Devon’s eyes trailed to the right. Luke was talking to some family members, laughing. A small grin tugged at the corners of her lips. His laugh was musical and contagious. She always felt proud of herself when she made him laugh. Not that it was a difficult task; he loved to laugh. For Devon, getting to hear the noise was like a gift.

“Dev!”

She snapped her gaze back to her friends. Their expressions were a mixture of smug and concerned. It was obvious that Devon hadn’t gotten over Luke in the past year. She still looked at him the same way she always did. They were still concerned that she would get her heart broken again.

“You still love him, don’t you?”

Devon glanced over at him one more time. She tried to convince herself that she didn’t. She almost threw away her shoebox of poems just to prove it to herself, but she couldn’t do it. It would always be him.

“Of course I do.”

…

The rest of the night, Luke and Devon didn’t speak. They weren’t avoiding each other, but the weight of the conversation they needed to have required the crowd to go away and the festivities to die down before it could happen. They exchanged glances and small smiles, saving the talking for later.

Devon purposely hung back as the crowd startled to trickle out the door. Luke had made a small speech thanking everyone for coming and celebrating with him. Everyone took it as the hint that the party was over. Deciding to help out while she waited, Devon busied herself cleaning up a bit in the kitchen.

Footsteps caught her attention, but they didn’t belong to who she figured they did. Instead of seeing Luke, she saw Ashton. He was Luke’s best friend, and while him and Devon never got super close, she still considered him a friend.

“Hey, Dev,” Ashton greeted with a grin, opening his arms for a hug that she gladly accepted.

“Hi, Ash. How have you been?”

“Good. Just working,” he chuckled as he pulled away from the hug. “You? How’s grad school?”

“It’s pretty good.” Good if he asked about her academics and not her social life, that is.

“That’s good.”

Ashton leaned against the counter across from her, shooting her a look. She raised her eyebrows in expectation.

“Luke’s been freaking out, you know,” Ashton mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets. “About seeing you.”

Devon sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Somehow, knowing that he was nervous too was comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t just me.”

“He really missed you. I’m sure he’ll tell you all this himself, but in case you don’t believe him, take it from me. He missed you so, so much.”

Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. It was good to hear it from someone else.

“I missed him too. A lot.”

Before Ashton could reply, Luke stepped into the kitchen, eyes flickering back and forth between his best friend and his ex girlfriend. Words got caught in Devon and Luke’s throats, neither of them sure what to say.

“I guess that’s my cue to get out,” Ashton joked, breaking the awkward silence. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home, Luke.”

The man walked out of the kitchen to help Calum and Michael clean up in the living room while Devon turned to look at Luke with furrowed eyebrows.

“Home?” She questioned.

“Ashton moved into the apartment a little while after you left,” Luke admitted, scratching the back of his neck. He took Ashton’s spot against the counter. “I needed a roommate to help with the rent.”

He left out the fact that being alone in there only reminded him that she was gone and he needed someone to keep him company.

Devon nodded in understanding, but felt another twinge of guilt. She hadn’t considered that she was leaving the financial burden onto him. Thankfully Ashton was there.

“How was your night?” Devon asked genuinely. The party was to celebrate his success, and she genuinely hoped he enjoyed it.

“It was really great.” Luke sent her a thankful grin. “I know I said it before, but it really means a lot to me that you’re here. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to come.”

“This is everything you’ve ever wanted. After everything we’ve been through, I would never miss this moment in your life.”

Devon sent him a sad smile that he returned. There was still so much that needed to be said, so much to discuss. A tension hung between them, but not one of anxiety or dread. It was desperation and desire. A yearning for what they once had.

“We need to talk, Dev,” Luke whispered what they were both thinking. “Like, really talk.”

“I know we do.” She glanced at the clock on the wall beside his head. “But it’s getting late. My flight back isn’t until Monday. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow, if you’re free? Get lunch?”

Luke nodded in agreement. It would be best if they both got some sleep and recharged before talking seriously.

“That sounds good.” Luke turned to look at the clock as well and laughed. “I know it’s past your bedtime.”

Devon rolled her eyes playfully. She was the “go to bed early, wake up early” type, while Luke was the opposite.

“Exactly. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Boy, do I know it.”

The two laughed together, for the first time in a long time. It felt so right.

“I should head back then,” Devon announced, reaching behind to grab her clutch that she had set on the counter. “Let me just call an Uber and I’ll be out of here.”

“Don’t worry about that. Ash and I came together, he’ll drive you back. Where are you staying?”

Not one to turn down a free ride, Devon rattled off the name of her hotel. Luke led her to the living room to get Ashton and say goodbye to Calum and Michael. Luke thanked them again for letting him have the party at their place before they were out the door and piled in Ashton’s car. Luke took shotgun while Devon slipped into the back.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. Only Ashton’s soft indie music and the sound of other cars filled the car. Shortly, Ashton pulled to a stop in front of Devon’s hotel. Luke turned around in his seat to face her.

“Thanks again for coming, Dev,” he mumbled softly, a grin on his face.

“Thanks for inviting me. And thanks for the ride, Ashton.” He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned her gaze back to Luke. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Who knows what tomorrow would bring?

“See you tomorrow.”

Devon climbed out of the car and headed towards the doors, sparing one last glance and a wave before heading inside. Luke watched as she walked in, a small sigh escaping his lips. He turned his head to see Ashton with a smirk on his face.

“What?” Luke questioned.

“You still love her, don’t you, mate?”

Luke sighed again, glancing back towards the doors. Devon was already out of sight, probably in the elevator already. He knew exactly what she was going to do when she got to her room. She would kick off her shoes and then take her makeup off. She’d go through her night time skin care routine, put her hair in a bun with a silk scrunchie, and finally change into her pajamas, which were usually just a big t-shirt and panties. She would probably spend some time reading or watching cooking videos on TikTok before going to bed.

“Of course I do.”

…

Devon swiped one last bit of lip gloss across her lips when Luke texted her that he was outside. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and phone before heading downstairs to meet him.

The anxiety was coming back. Seeing Luke was one thing, but having a full on conversation was another. It didn’t help that the conversation would surely lead to the topic of their relationship. Their breakup.

Luke was feeling similarly. He had paced around the apartment all morning until Ashton gave him a pep talk. He reminded him that if they didn’t talk, Devon would just leave again and nothing would change. Nothing would get fixed.

The sound of a creaky car door opening snapped Luke from his thoughts, looking up to see Devon climbing in. He sent her a smile.

“Hey, Dev.”

“Hey, Luke. Bertha’s still kicking, I see?” Devon joked as she buckled her seatbelt. She knew that Luke wasn’t going to get rid of his beloved Prius until absolutely necessary, but the fact that the car still functioned at all was shocking.

“I think it might be her time soon, but for now, she gets me where I need to go.”

Bertha survived the drive to the small diner that Devon and Luke agreed on, albeit the radio cut out a few times. It was a new place and Luke had been wanting to try it. A part of Devon wondered if he really wanted to try it or if he just didn’t want to take her to one of the places that they frequented when they were together. Frankly, she wouldn’t have wanted to go to one of their old spots either. It would have felt too odd.

Once inside and seated, a waitress came to take coffee orders before scurrying away.

“Tell me about grad school,” Luke began, saving the more serious topics of conversation for later. It was best to start off casual and simply catch up on everything that had happened in the past year.

“It’s alright,” Devon sighed. She would have fibbed, but she felt no need to lie to Luke. “My classes are great. I’ve learned so much and my professors are awesome. It’s just…”

She trailed off, unsure how to put her thoughts into words without sounding pathetic. She didn’t want Luke to judge her.

“What?” He pressed gently, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s the other students, I guess. Everyone at our school was so great, but the people there are just not so friendly. And most of the other grad students did undergrad there, so I couldn’t really fit my way into a friend group. And there’s just not as much to do in the city as there is here,” she explained, her hands occupying themselves with the napkin in her lap.

She locked eyes with Luke, waiting for his response. He could have used it against her. He could have guilt tripped her for leaving and then not being happy. But Luke would never do that and Devon knew it.

“Well that’s not good,” he mumbled sincerely. “I’m sorry, Dev.”

He truly did feel bad. Every day while Devon was gone, he thought about her. He hoped she was having a good day and that her education was going well. It pained him to think that she wasn’t having a great time.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m there for my master’s, not to make friends.” The waitress came back with their drinks and took their lunch orders. “Anyways, tell me about your book! What happened with the publishers and everything?”

The fact that Devon’s grad school wasn’t everything that she had imagined was still bothering him but Luke went along, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“I sent another draft to one of the ones that was interested before, a while after you left. He said he liked the majority of it but wanted a few different ones. It took me a while to figure out what he wanted, but eventually I got it,” he rambled. “I’m really happy with it.”

“I’m glad,” she replied, heart swelling with pride. “When does it come out?”

“Next week.”

Devon hummed in acknowledgement, already making a mental note to pick up a copy for herself.

“How about work?” She questioned after a sip of her cappuccino.

“You’ll never believe it,” Luke chuckled. “I got promoted to a manager position.”

“Really? It’s about time!”

Devon and Luke had a running joke about Luke’s job. He had been there the longest other than the owner, an old woman who still moved like a teenager. She always hung a promotion over his head, suggesting it but never following through. Luke knew she was planning on giving it to him eventually. It was just a matter of time until she actually did, and the two would always make jokes about it.

They made small talk until their food came, causing the duo to fall into silence. Meaningless conversation about the weather could only last so long until what really needed to be talked about came out.

Soup and sandwiches didn’t last long enough. Their plates were cleared and there was no point in stalling anymore.

“I think we fucked up.”

Luke’s statement was unsugarcoated. He couldn't say for sure how Devon felt, but every day throughout the past year, Luke felt like he was making a mistake. Everyone around them was shocked at the news of their breakup; if there were any college sweethearts that would actually last, it would be them. That certainly didn’t help Luke’s pain when everyone else knew it was a mistake too.

Devon felt tears burn the back of her eyes as she nodded softly. He was right. Perhaps it was best at the time, but they couldn’t do another year of being apart.

“I think we did.”

Her voice broke, taking a deep breath to calm herself down and not cry in the restaurant.

“Hey,” Luke cooed soothingly, noticing the tears and reaching across the table for her hand. As his hand encased hers, at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

Luke paid the check and made their way back to Bertha. The need for privacy left them with two options; Devon’s hotel room or the apartment.

“Maybe we could go to my hotel room,” Devon suggested. “That way we won’t bother Ashton.”

That was only part of the reason. Devon wasn’t sure how she would feel if she stepped into her old home in the current state of their relationship. All of the memories her and Luke had would come flooding back. The hotel room was a neutral place without connection to what once was.

Luke agreed and drove to the location he remembered from the night before. The elevator ride up to Devon’s room was heavily silent, hands brushing against each other but never interlocking. The sound of the door shutting behind them once in the room was thunderous, the sound signifying that there was absolutely nothing between them and the inevitable anymore.

They stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking anywhere but each other. There was no good way to start the conversation. There was no easy way to talk about a painful breakup that led to a year apart, then being reunited.

Without the right words in mind, Devon threw herself at Luke. She wrapped her arms tight around his middle and buried her head into his chest. Luke returned the gesture, holding her as close as he could. The hug said more than what either of them could put into words.

It wasn’t until a few minutes that Devon finally found something to say.

“I can’t keep doing this, Lu,” she whispered shakily. “I can’t keep missing you like this.”

“This is all my fault, Dev. I was the one who didn’t think we could do it. Fuck, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Devon surely didn’t think it was his fault. He had every right to be upset that she was moving so far away, and he had every right to be scared of what the distance would do to their relationship. She felt the same way. They broke up to spare themselves the pain of long distance. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that the pain of being broken up was much, much worse.

As much as she tried to push the thoughts away, Devon couldn’t help thinking about how if she hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened. She knew that she did nothing wrong and that her education was just as important, but she had never intended to pursue it in expense of her relationship.

“This isn’t your fault. It was both of us. We were just saving ourselves from the pain. Besides, I was the one that left-”

“No,” Luke cut her off, glancing down at her. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Devon lifted her head up to meet his gaze. His face was serious but his eyes were completely sincere. She had always feared that he would hold a grudge against her for leaving. One look into the gorgeous blue eyes that she fell in love with told her that he didn’t.

“I never want you to blame this on you going to grad school. I want you to know that I completely support your decision and all your aspirations, honey. I will never hold that against you.”

Tears brimmed Devon’s eyes again, but these weren’t tears of pain. They were of love and adoration. Luke was the most amazing man she had ever known. He had a heart of gold and was one hell of a poet. She had never felt so loved as she felt by him.

“Please tell me this isn’t over, Luke,” she whispered, hands moving to cup his bearded cheeks. A single tear slipped down the soft skin of Devon’s cheek. “I love you. I never stopped. Please tell me there can be an us again.”

Luke wasn’t sure when he started crying, but a sudden wetness on his cheek alerted him of the act. His hands tugged Devon’s waist to bring her closer, noses brushing touching and breath mingling. They could hardly remember the last time they had been that close, the last time they felt love so intensely.

“I’ve wanted us back since that day a year ago. I love you more than anything, Devon. Always have, always will.”

For the first time in over a year, Luke and Devon’s lips connected in a kiss. It was nothing short of passionate and heavy. The love they hadn’t been able to express for so long was rising to the surface, coming out in the form of mumbled words, bruising kisses and desperate touches.

Frantic fingers worked the buttons of Devon’s flannel, slowly pushing her backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. The offending item was discarded to the floor and the newly reunited couple crawled onto the bed. Devon shivered under Luke, a reaction caused by a mixture of the cool sheets against her bare back and his lips on her neck, his beard providing a new sensation that she hadn’t felt before.

The past year was difficult. If they could go back in time and fix it, they would jump on the opportunity without a second thought. But just maybe, it made them stronger. Maybe they needed to begin to wilt in order for them to bloom.

…

“What do we do now?”

Devon curled closer to Luke as a crisp breeze cut through the darkening evening. He sighed and wrapped the blanket tighter around them.

“I’m not sure.”

The couple sat in the trunk of Luke’s car with the door popped open, parked at a lookout point that overlooked the city. It was something they used to do all the time in college. It was comforting to return to their old traditions, knowing that they had fixed what they broke.

It was Sunday evening, the day before Devon flew back to her grad school city. They may have gotten back together, but they were still faced with the same problem as when they broke up. Devon still had a whole year of grad school left, miles away.

“I’m not sure I want to go back,” Devon admitted, eyes fixed on the city lights. Luke snapped his head to look at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean? Are you saying you don’t want to finish your degree?”

Luke would never forgive himself if she gave up her master’s degree because of him. He didn’t want the distance either, but he could never hold her back from her dreams.

“No, no, I want to finish. I just...I wasn’t happy in that city. This is my home. I’m happy here,” she explained. She tore her eyes away from the view in favor of looking at her boyfriend. “With you.”

Luke dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her temple. Devon leaned into the affection that she had missed so much.

“It’s up to you, honey. I don’t want to hold you back. Just know that if you do stay there, I’m going to really try this time. I promise we’ll make it work, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Devon grinned at his words. She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear that; that the past wouldn’t repeat itself. However, she didn’t want to put either of them through the suffering of a long distance relationship when she didn’t even want to be away.

“I appreciate that, bubs. But I just can’t do that to us after everything we’ve been through.” She thought for a moment, trying to decipher the best course of action. “Maybe I could finish online.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement; it was a good compromise. Devon got to finish her degree at the school with the best program, and she didn’t have to be so far away. It benefitted Luke as well, not just her. However, he didn’t want to sway her either way.

“If that’s what you want, honey. This is your decision.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze as she thought it over. The only sounds to be heard were the gentle hum of the city below them and the cold breeze that ruffled the trees. It was so familiar. They had spent countless nights like this, simply enjoying each other’s company and rewinding from hectic college life. Luke had to remind himself that they weren’t undergraduate students anymore; Devon was in grad school and he was a published poet.

It was baffling how everything felt like it had gone back to the way it was, yet things were actually so very different.

“That’s what I want,” Devon announced with confidence after a few moments of pondering. “I want to stay here.”

Matching lovesick grins spread across their faces as they locked eyes. She scooted closer to Luke, if that was even possible, nudging her nose against his.

“You’re sure?” He verified, eyes fluttering closed.

“So very sure.”

He chuckled lowly before closing the gap. The air between them was finally clear. Their relationship was fixed and they would still be together. No more pain and suffering.

Devon rested her head on Luke’s shoulder when the kiss broke, breathing out a content sigh. They enjoyed the silence for a moment before Devon piped up with a question.

“Can I move back into the apartment?”

“Of course you can,” Luke chuckled. “That’s our place. Why couldn’t you?”

“What about Ashton?”

“He understands our situation, babe. He saw this coming. He already asked Calum and Michael if he could take the extra bedroom at their flat if it came to this, and they agreed. As long as you’re fine with living with him for a little while until he moves out, then he’s fine with it too.”

Devon let out a breathy laugh, nodding in understanding.

“I mean, I’ll still have to go back to my apartment out there for a bit to get my stuff.” She looked up at Luke with a hopeful glint in her eye. “Do you think you could come with and help? It’s alright if you can’t.”

“I can come, honey. I’ll see if I can fly out with you tomorrow, but if not I can come a couple days later, so you don’t have to change yours.” A smirk spread across his face before continuing. “Or we could just wait to go together and stay here for another few days. You know, catch up a little more.”

Devon laughed and playfully rolled her eyes, nudging his shoulder.

“What a way with words you have, Hemmings. No wonder you’re a poet.”

“Speaking of poetry, I have something for you.”

Luke pressed a swift kiss to Devon’s cheek before hopping out of the trunk. He opened the door to the back seat and rifled around for a moment, then returning to face Devon. He removed his hand from behind his back, holding it out to her.

“For you.”

Devon took the item from his hand curiously. It only took a moment for her to realize what it was.

It was a book titled The Life of a Flower. The cover was a stunning photo of two orchids side by side, and Luke’s name was printed across the bottom.

His first poetry book.

“You’re the first person to get a copy,” he mumbled sheepishly, breaking Devon from her trance of staring at it. She couldn’t help the tears of pride that welled in her eyes. If seeing the actual, physical book in person was such an emotional moment for her, she couldn’t even imagine how Luke must have felt when he saw it for the first time.

“This is incredible, Luke,” she whispered, smiling despite her tears. “I’m so proud of you, bubs, so fucking proud.”

Devon dropped the blanket from her shoulders and hopped down from the trunk. Her arms found their way around his neck while his found her waist. Pride was an understatement. She had been there every step of the way, and seeing his dreams finally come to life was a wonderful sight to see.

“Thank you, Devon,” Luke whispered into her hair. “For being my biggest supporter. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It’s not me, Lu,” she mumbled in response, tilting her head up to look at him. “You have a gift. Your writing got you here, not me.”

“I would have given up on writing a long time ago if I didn’t have you. You give me an endless amount of inspiration that I never had before. A poet’s words are meaningless if his muse isn’t worth writing about.”

“Damn. William Shakespeare has nothing on you,” she joked although she was absolutely melting on the inside. Luke groaned playfully.

“You always ruin the moment. Anyway, look at the first pages.”

Devon removed her arms from his neck to flip through, skipping past the title page, copyright and table of contents until she found what he was talking about. She found a dedications page that only made her tear up again, reading:

“For Devon. You’ll always be my orchid.”

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