#turns out she was my student and followed me at work for 6 hours last tuesday

[xobrattymoonxo]

Kenma, Akaashi, Kuroo and Bokuto x Reader

TW: Non con, fisting, anal, double penetration (Front and back), knife play, blood, carving into skin, If i missed anything please let me know!

AN: Unedited for the most part. Sorry It's been a while guys! I was writing a jjk fic but then I just thought of this and wanted to write it dhbvshdv

Word count: 3.8K

Y/n ran through the house slipping on the rug. She tripped a little but was able to gain her footing again as she ran once more. She saw the door in her vision as she picked up her pace. As she was unlocking all the locks, she was pulled back by her left shoulder. She was slammed into the ground as the man laughed. 

“You can’t outrun me.” He said with a devious smirk. 

Y/n’s first reaction was to start screaming. The man with black and blonde hair covered her mouth. Y/n instantly bit down hard on his hand drawing blood. 

“Ow you bitch!” He yelled.  

“Kenma, are you okay?

“No, that stupid bitch bit me!” He yelled at the black haired man. 

“Fuck.” The black haired man sees Y/n getting up and rushing for the front door. “Y/n, if you know what’s good for you you will stop right now.” He said in a stern voice.  

“It’s too late to give up now, Akaashi!” She yelled as she began to unlock the seven locks on the door. Akaashi rushed to her side as she turned with all her force and punched him in the nose. He fell backwards with a bloody nose/. Kenma rushed up to her other side as she used a swift kick to hit him in the balls.

“Fuck!” He yelled as he fell down holding his crotch. 

Y/n unlocked the last lock as she ripped the door open. She began to run down the long driveway of the private house on the outskirts of Tokyo. Around the house was nothing but trees, but she figured if she ran through the forest she would be safe from Kuroo and Bokuto, who were probably on their way home. 

Y/n started to run through the forest as she heard a car pull in the driveway. She turned back to see Bokuto rush to the front door. Akaashi was standing on the porch holding his nose as he pointed to the forest where Y/n was. 

She turned as fast as she could on her feet and ran for her life. She knew if she went back to the house, she’d be screwed, maybe even dead. 

It wasn’t long after Bokuto had begun his hunt, like she was a deer and he was the hungry mountain lion. He ran at full speed as she kept running. 

It wasn’t always like this, Y/n actually used to work at the 24 hour convenience store. Kenma had come into her store many times to buy energy drinks around 2 or 3 am. It was just Kenma at first, harmless soft Kenma. Until he started to bring in his friend, Kuroo. Kuroo started to stalk Y/n, figuring out she was a university student at Tokyo U. Their friend Akaashi happened to go there as well. He started off casually following her around for Kenma… and then for Kuroo. He then began to take photos, stalking her more intensely. He learned her schedule, he learned everything about her and he claimed it was all for them.

One Friday night, Kenma went into the convenience store with Kuroo. 

“Hey Y/n.” He said monotone as usual. “I am having a party this weekend at my place. Figured I’d invite you since I always see you around.” 

“When is it? I most likely will be working so I probably won’t be abe to make it.” She said upset. 

“Monday.”

“Oh, I have classes on Tuesdays, I shouldn’t.” 

“C’mon Y/n!” Kuroo said, “Have some fun! We always see you here. You must not even sleep at this point.” 

“I sleep a couple hours after I get off at 6.” She laughed. “But maybe.” 

“Say you’ll come, please?” Kenma asked. 

She couldn’t resist Kenma. 

“Okay… What time should I get there?” 

“8pm, Oak Tree Rd, 175. See you next week, beautiful.” Kuroo smiled at her.  

She smiled as the two walked out the front door. 

Timeskip to Monday…. 

Y/n grabbed her bag and checked herself in the mirror again. She smiled as she looked at her black clubbing dress. She never had a chance to wear it as she always worked.  

Y/n began to walk outside to her apartment lobby. She looked at the time and saw it was 7:24pm. She began to walk. The party was only 34 minutes away, ust on the other side of her work. 

Y/n arrived at a house, there was no noise coming from the house. She walked up to the door really slowly. She knocked on the front door.  

“Hey Beautiful! You made it!” Kuroo said as he opened the door.  

“Um… I thought it was a party.” She tried covering up her chest a bit. 

“It actually starts at 9:30pm. We just wanted you to meet our close friends first.” Kuroo said. 

“Oh makes sense I guess.” She murmured.  

“Come in.” Kuroo stepped aside for Y/n to walk inside. She looked around the mansion astonished. “Nice, huh?”

“Hey Y/n.” Kenma said. “Glad you could make it.” 

“Hi Kenma.” She looked around the large room with 3 couches in it. There was a large projector style tv on the wall. 

“Hi I am Bokuto!” A man with silver and black roots said. 

“Hey, I am Akaashi.” The black haired man said from behind Bokuto. 

“These are our best friends.” Kuroo said. 

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Y/n.” She said. 

“Come have a seat.” Bokuto motions her in between him and Akaashi.  

“So tell us about yourself, Y/n.”Akaashi smiled. 

“I go to Tokyo U. I work at a convenience store. I met Kenma and Kuroo from said convenience store. That’s about it.” She said with a nervous laugh. 

“You go to Tokyo U? I do as well.” Akaashi pretended not to know. 

“Oh what do you study?” Y/n asked.

“Editing and creative writing.” Akaashi said. “And you?” 

“I’m in med school. Hoping to be a Neurologist one day.” 

“Wow you must really never sleep then.” Kuroo said. 

“I study and do homework at work.” She laughed.

“Impressive.” Kenma said. 

“How about you three?” Y/n asked the rest of the guys in the room. 

“I’m a professional Volleyball player for MSBY.” Bokuto spoke up. 

“I work for the Japan Volleyball Association in the sports promotion division.” Kuroo added.  

“I’m the CEO of my own company and a streamer.” Kenma said.

 “Oh wow.” Y/n said. 

Just then the doorbell rang.  

“Looks like the party arrived early.” Kuroo said as he walked out of the room. 

Y/n stood up and walked to the kitchen to get a drink.

“Hey sexy, did it hurt?” A man said from behind Y/n. 

“If you ask if it hurt when I fell from Heaven, I’ll scream right now.” She said,  The guy laughed. 

“I’m Atsumu. What’s yer name, Angel?” 

“Please leave our guest alone, Atsumu. She’s not looking for you to dick her down, I promise.” Kuroo said from behind Y/n. 

Y/n sighed in relief as she turned around. Kuroo passed her a red solo cup full of Vodka. She took one sip and made a face at him.  

“What is this? It’s disgusting.” She said as Kuroo laughed as he took it back and chugged down the cup's contents. 

“Let’s make you something mixed then.” Atsumu rolled his eyes as he walked away from the two. Bokuto came into the kitchen and bumped into Y/n making her turn as Kuroo slipped something into her drink. He dumped coke on top of the rum in her cup and passed it back to her. The pill vanished into nothing as she took her first sip. Kuroo looked at Bokuto with a wink as he walked away. In 15 to 20 minutes their plan would take course. 

The two talked as Akaashi came up to them. Some time passed as Kuroo checked his watch. 

“Hey guys, I am not feeling too hot. Do you know what time it is?” Y/n asked, feeling herself fade out of consciousness. 

“It’s 10:30 pm, Y/n.” 

Y/n blinked and suddenly she was on the balcony with Bokuto’s hands on her waist. 

“Wha-what time is it?” She slurred, reaching up to grab her head in hopes to calm her throbbing headache.

“1:45am baby, why?”

“What?” She felt herself grow dizzy as she fell into Bokuto’s chest. 

“Are you okay? I should take you home. Sit for a second let me get some water.” He placed her down on a chair as he walked back into the room. He texted the others “Code red.” 

He slipped two roofies from his pocket and into the bottle of water. He took one sip before doing so so it wouldn’t be suspicious. 

“Here Y/n.” He passed her the water bottle as she began to chug it back. “Let’s just wait here a few minutes so the world stops spinning for you.”

She gave him a thumbs up as she continued to drink. The more she drank the dizzier she felt.  

“Bo….I don’t- I don’t feel good at all.” She tried to stand up as she fell into his chest once again. “Help me.” She whispered as she felt her eyes grow heavy and her body go limp. 

Bokuto smiled at the limp drugged up body in his arms as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He placed her on the bed carefully. Kuroo busted open the door and looked at the scene before him. 

“Thank god, What was code red about?” He asked Bokuto. 

“She became conscious again. I gave her a couple more roofies and knocked her out.” 

“Well she’s going to feel like shit when she wakes up.” Akkashi said from behind Kuroo. “Kenma is clearing out the party now.” “Good, that means it will be easier for us to get her out.” 

“How are we doing that again?” Bokuto asked. 

“Kenma got me to park in the garage so we could throw her in the trunk.” Kuroo said. 

“Okay. Let me go be our eyes and ears downstairs.” Akaashi said as he left. 

Bokuto looked at the unconscious Y/n on the bed and smiled. 

“She’s almost ours, Kuroo.” Bokuto said with a smile. 

“She is, Bo.” 

A few minutes later Akaashi walked back into the room. 

“All clear.” Akaashi said to the guys. Bokuto lifted her unconscious body off the bed. He began to carry her bridal style down the stairs.  

Bokuto walked into the garage as Kuroo popped open the trunk. He lightly places Y/n’s unconscious body in the trunk. 

“Let’s head out. It’s a long drive to the cabin.” Kenma said from the door behind them.  

Bokuto and Akaashi got into the back seat. The four headed out. 

It wasn’t too long before Bokuto began to get antsy. 

“Are we almost there? I want to be there! How much longer?” Bokuto’s legs started to shake.

“Bokuto-san, we will get there soon, don’t worry.” Akaashi said as he put a hand on his knee.

“I want to hold her though.” Bokuto huffed.  

“How much longer, Kenma?” Akaashi asked.  

“About 20 minutes.” Kenma said. 

“Awww but I want to be there now!” Bokuto whined again. 

"Bo, how are you this excited for someone you haven’t met before tonight?” Kuroo asked with a laugh. 

“Kaashi has told me all about her, he shows me her pictures too. Sometimes he shows me the videos he takes for you guys. She is so pretty and beautiful and she's just so perfect for us!” 

“Seems like someones in love.” Kuroo laughed again. 

The car was full of Bokuto and Kuroo talking about their favorite things about Y/n. 

Kuroo pulled up into the parking lot of a two story house surrounded by trees. Bokuto practically jumped out of the car. He ripped open the trunk to see a still passed out Y/n laying there surrounded by pillows.  

Bokuto lifted up her unconscious body and carried her to the door where Kenma was unlocking it. 

“There's a door to the basement in the pantry.” Kenma said as he motioned for them to go inside…. 

Y/n woke up with a splitting headache. She couldn’t remember much from the party, or how she even got home. She went to move her hands to rub her eyes, but something was restricting her hands. She looked up and saw her hands tied to the above bed post. She began to feel her heart beat increase, she pulled down on her arms and began to panic. 

“She's awake!” A voice yelled from across the room. 

“Perfect.” 

“What’s going on?” Y/n asked, confused. “Where am I? Who are you?” Her voice began to shake. 

“Y/n! It’s just us!” Bokuto exclaimed. “You’re safe here, okay?” Bokuto sat on the side of the bed. He placed his hands on her bare stomach. 

“Where are my clothes?!?” Y/n was freaking out as she noticed she was only in her lingerie. 

“Your dress was so tight, we thought we’d let your body breathe baby.” Kuroo said from behind Bokuto. 

Kenma walked in the room with Akaashi as Y/n tried to pull away from Bokuto’s hands. 

Bokuto’s hands trailed up Y/n’s side. 

“Baby, don’t pull away.” Bokuto said. 

Kuroo reached around Bokuto and started to untie Y/n’s hands. 

Y/n was quick to pull away from Bokuto and pulled her knees into her as she braced herself into the Headboard against the wall. 

“Baby, don’t back away.” Bokuto sighed as his hair deflated. He reached his hand out to touch her again. 

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed. 

Bokuto was taken aback by her shouting. He looked at Akaashi. 

    “Y/n, I know you’re scared, but there's no need to shout at us.” Akaashi said calmly. He moved over to the edge of the bed and reached for her. 

Y/n slapped Akaashi’s hand away. 

“I said don’t touch me!” She screamed again. 

Akaashi looked back at Kuroo and Kenma. Kuroo pushed past the two of them and grabbed Y/n by the ankles. He pulled her down the bed. She began kicking and screaming as Kuroo raised his hand to slap her across the face. She reached up and grabbed her cheek as she cried. 

“You are going to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” Kuroo said. 

He was quick to place his hand on her throat as he began to apply pressure. She reached up and tried to pry Kuroo’s big hands off her throat. 

“Kuroo, careful.” Kenma warned. 

“She’s being an ungrateful bitch.” He spat back. He ripped down her underwear as he shoved two fingers inside of her pussy. 

“Kuroo! I wanted to be the first one to fuck her.” Bokuto whined. 

“Then get over here before I change my mind.” Kuroo said. 

4 ½ months later… 

That's how they got into their current situation, y/n running for her life through the woods in nothing but Bokuto’s shirt and underwear.  

Y/n was giving everything she had into running away. She heard footsteps catching up to her. She tried her best to speed up as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She was pulled back and thrown to the ground. 

“Fuck! Let me go!” She screamed.  

“Baby, calm down! You’re just confused.” Bokuto’s voice cooed at her. He picked her up as Kuroo arrived at the scene. 

“Stupid bitch thought she could escape.” Kuroo laughed. “Here.” He passed Bokuto a pair of Handcuffs. 

“No please! No! I just want to go home!” Y/n cried. 

“You were home.” Kuroo snapped. 

Bokuto and Kuroo fought and put the handcuffs on Y/n’s wrists. She was crying and thrashing her wrists as Bokuto carried her back bridal style.  

“Bring her back down stairs. I have a surprise for her.” Kenma said manically. 

“On it.” Kuroo said as he led Bokuto through the house.  

Akaashi went behind them and began to lock up the front door again. Kenma walked past him and into the kitchen and grabbed a large knife. 

“Woah what’s that for Kenma?” Akaashi asked.  

“You’ll see.” He smiled a devilish smile.

The two walked down the stairs where Bokuto and Kuroo had tied Y/n down to the bed.  

“Kuroo.” Kenma spoke. “Do you want to go first?” He asked, holding out the knife. 

“You deserve it. She did bite you after all.” Kuroo said. Bokuto just finished tying a rag in her mouth. 

Kenma grabbed the shirt on her as he sliced it off in one quick motion. He was quick to repeat the process to her underwear too. 

“Woah Kenma, careful you don’t cut her.” Bokuto said. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kenma smirked once again. 

Kenma pressed the tip of the knife into her soft thigh. He began to apply pressure as Y/n began to cry harder. Kuroo grabbed hold of her ankles as she tried to kick him off. 

Kenma pressed hard into her skin as he carved two letter K’s into her left thigh. He passed the knife over to Akaashi. Akaashi smiled as he pressed the knife down into her right thigh. He carved out AK before passing it to Kuroo. Akaashi and Kenma held down one leg each. Kuroo took his own sweet time to carve on the left side KT. He passed over the knife to Bokuto who looked a little uneasy. 

“Cmon Bo, you can do it.” Kuroo encouraged him. 

“It’s hurting her though.” Bokuto said all sad. 

“She hurt us Bo, she tried to leave us. We gave her everything and she repays us by leaving? This is just a reminder to her she's ours.” Kuroo said. 

Bokuto smiled as he looked down at her right thigh. He carved out a BK as he smiled. The blood was running down her leg.  Bokuto tossed the knife aside as he pulled his shirt off. 

“Seeing her like this…. Is making me feel some way…” He said with a devious smirk.  

Bokuto began to get naked in front of the other guys as Kuroo laughed. 

“Looks like Bo got turned on after all.” Kuroo said. 

Kuroo took his shirt off as Akaashi placed his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder.  

“What are you doing?” He asked him. 

“There’s enough room for all of us after all, remember?” 

Kenma smiled as he began to strip down too. Akaashi didn’t take long to follow through. 

The guys all turned to face Bokuto as they heard a loud muffled groan leave Y/n’s mouth.  Bokuto had shoved himself inside Y/n’s pussy dry. He began to frantically pump inside her. 

“Woah Bokuto, wait for us will you?” Akaashi said with a laugh. “Who’s taking what?” 

“I call dibs on her mouth.” Kenma said as he climbed onto the bed.  

“I’ll take her ass if you are okay to share with Bokuto this time Kasshi?” Kuroo asked. 

Akaashi nodded as he Approached the bed. 

“Bo, can you turn her on her side. I want to make space in her tight little asshole for me.” Kuroo smiled. 

Bokuto smiled back as he moved her on her side. Kuroo grabbed the lube from the bedside table. He opened it up and dropped a few drops on Y/n’s tiny butthole. He began to rub it in slowly as she begged for them to stop. 

“Kenma, shut her up before I do.” Akaashi said. 

Kenma laughed as he climbed to the top of the bed. Bokuto pulled her down a bit as Kenma got above her. 

“You bite me now, I’ll slice you up. Got it?” She shook her head in agreement. Kenma quickly shoved his member down her throat. He grabbed the back of her head and forced her to take all of him. It was Akaashi’s turn to join the fun. He put lube on his member as he lined it up next to Bokuto’s. Y/n was unable to do anything as her hands were still tied up. Kuroo now had 3 fingers shoved up Y/n’s asshole. 

“Bokuto, can you shift a little. I want to join you inside so we can all cum together.” Akaashi said. 

As Akaashi was forcing himself inside as Kuroo pulled his fingers out. Kuroo opened up the bottle of lube again and dumped it all over his hand. Kuroo smiled to himself as he slowly started to work his large fist into Y/n.  She cried out as Kuroo and Akaashi fully pushed in at the same time.  

“Fuck! Do that again.” Kenma moaned as she gasped and moaned out around his cock.  

Kuroo laughed as he pulled his hand almost all the way out, then quickly slammed it in at full speed once again. 

“Yeah fuck just like that.” Kenma moaned. 

“Fuck!” Bokuto and Akaashi yelled in sync. 

“Feels good huh?” He smirked. 

“Keep going,”Bokuto said. “She’s getting tighter with every thrust.”

The two in her pussy picked up the pace as Kuroo remained fisting her ass.  

“I’m close.” Akaashi moaned. 

“Fuck me too.” Kenma said. 

“Just cum inside her. I’ll buy some plan B tomorrow.” Kuroo said. 

Just like that, Akaashi and Bokuto shot hot ropes of cum inside Y/n. Kenma wasn’t too far behind as lets his hot load out down her throat. 

Kuroo pulled his fist out as he replaced it with his cock. 

“Fuck, she’s so stretched out.” He said.  

“I want to try fisting her too!” Bokuto whined. 

“Take her pussy. Her ass is mine.” Kuroo said. 

Bokuto looked down at her cum dripping pussy. He shrugged his shoulders as he began to force his massive fist inside her.  

“Stop! Please! It hurts!” She cried out.  

“You deserve this. This isn’t for your pleasure, it’s for ours.” He said as his fist slowly slipped all the way inside. 

Kuroo groaned out as he felt Bokuto’s fist through the thin wall. 

“Fuck Bo, I can feel you on the otherside.” Kuroo moaned. 

“I can see my fist in her stomach!” Bokuto exclaimed excitedly.  

Kuroo was quick to release hot strings of cum inside her ass.

“Fuck that was to good.” Kuroo breathed out.

Y/n laid there crying silently as she begged for it to be over. 

“Well that’s not fair to Kenma or Akaashi, now is it?” Kuroo smirked.  

“Please- please no.” 

“Cmon, let’s not play favorites, okay?” Bokuto said. 

Akaashi grabbed the lube as he lined up to her front entrance and Kenma at the back entrance. 

Y/n was screaming in pain as the two who had finished sat back and watched. 

It wasn’t until hours later they all stopped. Constantly fucking her between their fists and their cocks. She was laying there, completely fucked out when they finally stopped. She was covered in cum and it was dripping from all three of her holes. There was even some blood in other places then her thighs.  

“Let’s get washed up. Let her rest for a little bit.” Akaashi said. 

“We shouldn’t leave her out. I don’t trust her on her own anymore.” Kenma added. 

“Bring the dog carrier.” Kuroo said. 

#tw dark fic #tw noncon #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu dark content #haikyuu noncon #haikyuu yandere #kenma smut #kuroo smut #bokuto smut #akaashi smut

[munsonfamilyband]

So, since my last post kind of popped off, I decided to continue it. Here’s part 2 of the Different Meeting AU:

Robin knew within a week of that first hangout that Steve was interested in someone. She ambushed him at their new job, demanding he fill her in. What follows is a very awkward coming out on Steve’s part (“Why didn’t you say anything when I came out to you??” “I was still drugged! I forgot!”) and then an even more awkward explanation of who he is interested in and how they met. Robin was unsurprisingly supportive and helps wingman from the background, which mostly consists of getting Steve in progressively tinier clothes for his and Eddie’s now biweekly smoke sessions.

When they finally do get together, Steve clears it with Eddie before telling her the next day at work. She jumps up and down from excitement and demands to meet him. And just like that, Steve had two best friends who also get along, and one of them was also his crazy hot boyfriend. The next six months pass in a haze of happiness, until it pops on a particular Saturday morning in late March.

Spring break has just started, and Steve is only a little grumpy. Eddie had called Family Video yesterday around lunch time to tell Steve he wouldn’t be able to come over right after the game that night because he had a client coming over. This didn’t upset Steve, what left him so grumpy was that Eddie had said he would call after the client left and he never did. Steve isn’t insecure, after 6 months he is very secure in his relationship. No, Steve isn’t insecure, but he is clingy so he always gets a little cranky when he hasn’t seen Eddie in a bit.

Robin picks up on his mood as soon as he picks her up, because of course she does, and she spends the next couple hours joking with him to try to bring up his mood. It actually starts working a bit before his mood crashes back down when he tunes into the news playing on the TV. On the screen, grainy as it is, is a trailer he knows just as well as his own house, with a very familiar van parker outside it. The words “murder” and “Hawkins High student” sink into his brain and the panic starts to set it.

“Robin.” Steve calls her name, but she’s still busy sorting movies, so he calls her name a couple more times before reaching out to grab her wrist without taking his eyes off the screen. “Robin, I need-“ The panic leaking into his tone finally gets her attention and she spins around to look at the TV just in time to hear the reporter say that Eddie is currently missing.

“Oh shit- okay, Steve, I need you to take a deep breath for me. Come on, deep breath.” She turns him toward her, holding his face between her hands. “They said he’s missing, so he might be okay, we don’t know right now-“

“But he might be hurt, whoever did this, they could have taken him-“

“Steve, you need to breathe-“ Her attempts at calming him are interrupted by the bell above the door, getting them both to turn around and face Dustin and Max. The four of them stare at each other for a beat before Dustin speaks.

“How many phones do you have?”

“What?” Steve manages to snap himself out of his panic in the face of Dustin’s own fear.

“How many phones do you have?”

“Uh, Two I think? Why-“ Steve is cut off by Dustin throwing his bag over the counter and leaping over it, knocking tapes onto the floor. “Hey, dude, no! My tapes! Can you explain why you need our phones?”

“I don’t have time for this, Max, could you..?” Max rolls her eyes but turns to Steve and Robin to explain.

“Last night I saw Eddie Munson come home with Chrissy Cunningham, and then 15 minutes later I heard screaming and I saw Eddie run like hell out of his trailer. I was able to see inside this morning and Chrissy was laying on the floor with her eyes sucked out of her head. Now, we’re trying to find Eddie.”

Steve feels like his stomach has disappeared, replaced entirely with a solid ball of fear. He thanks whatever is out there for Robin, because she speaks up before he has to try.

“You don’t think- is this another mall situation?” Steve can feel his knees shaking and Robin grabs his hand tightly to support him.

“I don’t know, but it seems like it might be.”

Steve takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and pull his shit together before speaking up.

“Dustin, grab your shit, let’s go.” Without even waiting for an answer, he grabs his keys and starts walking for the door. As he’s walking he turns to walk backwards, seeing no one moving. “Let’s go! Do you want to find Eddie or not?” Continuing his path out the doors he hears Dustin yelling questions at him, but he can also hear him scrambling to get his stuff together. By the time Steve reaches his car everyone has nearly reached him and he doesn’t hesitate when getting in his car, starting it as everyone gets inside.

Robin sits in the passenger’s seat and keeps shooting his worried glances. Dustin and Max keep asking questions, but Steve ignores them, only listening to Robin.

“Are you sure you know where he is?”

“Yeah, we’ve been here a bunch lately. Rick’s in prison right now so no one comes around the house but us.”

“Okay, if you’re sure, then I’ll trust you.”

“The only other place I can think he would go would be mine, but he would have shown up last night-“

“I’m sorry, do you and Eddie KNOW each other???” Dustin’s words manage to finally pierce the wall of focus in Steve’s head, but Max responds before he can answer.

“Duh, Steve is at Eddie’s all the time.” Dustin stares at Steve like he’s grown another head.

“And no one said anything, why???”

“It was funny.”

“It was FUNNY?!?! What the hell, Steve?!”

“Language, Henderson.”

“Oh my god, now is not the time-“ Steve pulls into the driveway of Reefer Rick’s house, slamming the car into park.

“Shut up, we’re here. If you’re coming, then get out.” Without waiting for any answers, Steve climbs out of the car, rushing over to the front door. “Eddie? Eddie, are you here?” Peering through the windows Steve can see the remnants of the picnic they had at the house the weekend before, but no sign of Eddie. Dustin, as tactful as ever, starts banging on the door and yelling. “Dude! He’s in hiding, be quiet!”

“He needs to know it’s us!” Steve groans, leaning against the siding of the house.

“Hey guys, look!” Max yells over from her spot in the driveway, and Steve suddenly remembers the other part of the property.

“The boat house, how did I forget the boat house.” Their group run over to the boat house, pushing inside with Dustin calling out Eddie’s name. Steve grabs an oar, carefully walking around the boat house. Knowing Eddie, he would be terrified and when he’s spooked he gets aggressive. With this knowledge, Steve should have been more prepared when Eddie jumps out of the boat and shoves Steve up against the wall, broken bottle held to his neck.

Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flit across his face, watches the recognition down across his features and he watches as Dustin’s words sink into Eddie’s head. Steve just grins shyly at Eddie with his head tilted back to avoid to sharp glass.

“Usually I wouldn’t be opposed to this, but there are children here.” His joke does what Steve had hoped, making Eddie huff a laugh and stumble backwards to sit down.

“What are you doing here?” Steve feels his heart crack at the fear still lacing Eddie’s voice, and he carefully slides over to Eddie’s side. He holds a hand out to stop Dustin as Steve settle in next to Eddie, prying the bottle out of his hand and gently laces their fingers together.

“I saw the news this morning, and then Henderson showed up at Family Video looking to find you. I figured that I could save us some time and just come right here.” Eddie manages to tilt one side of his mouth up in a small grin, clearly happy to see Steve despite the anxiety of this whole situation. “Eddie, what happened last night? You said you had work, what happened?”

Eddie grips Steve’s hand a little tighter, his other hand coming up to rest on the back of Steve’s neck and takes a deep breath to speak, but because he has no filter, Dustin interrupts him.

“Okay, what is happening right now? Before today I didn’t know you guys even knew each other, and now you’re holding hands? Why are you guys sitting like that? How do you even know each other? Why did Steve know you would be here?” They both glance at each other, making meaningful eye contact before coming to the same conclusion. Eddie simply shrugs.

“Me or you?” They had thankfully discussed this before, and Eddie worked some gay couples into his campaigns to see how the kids would react. They all seemed okay with it, so they weren’t terribly worried about telling the truth.

“Who do you think he’ll be more mad at?”

“You, probably.”

“Fair, you should say it then.” Eddie grins and turns to Dustin to speak.

“I’m dating your babysitter, surprise. Now can we get back to the cheerleader in my trailer?”

“Yes-“

“No! You’re DATING??!?! And you never said ANYTHING?”

“Dustin, now isn’t the time-“

“Henderson, we have a much bigger potential problem and we need to figure out if that is what’s happening.” Steve levels Dustin with a glare, which seems to knock some sense into him.

“Fine, but we are discussing this later.”

“Thank you. Go ahead, Eddie.” Eddie leans his forehead against Steve’s temple briefly to stabilize himself before he launches into his explanation of the previous night’s events. As he tells the story the dawning horror in Steve’s gut grows stronger, knowing with awful understanding that the upside down was, in fact, back, and the one person he wanted to protect was now part of it.

“Okay, Eds, remember how you asked about my nightmares and I told you that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you?” Steve can see Eddie beginning to put the dots together, the same fear Steve feels being reflected back at him now.

“Yeah, and I told you I would always believe you.”

“Well, I’m gonna hold you to that now. It all started on November 6th, 1983, the night Will Byers disappeared.”

————————

I do have more ideas about this so if you want more, let me know.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #Different Meeting AU #that last part became my most popular post in like a day so heres more lol

[inkbyajm]

of kindling sparks

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

tropes: fluff, slow-burn

warnings: 11 year age-gap (reader is 23, joel is 34)

word count: ~6000

author’s note: so this chapter as well as the next one basically serve as one long exposition before the main story (aka the prequel). i realise this is lengthy as hell but i needed to flesh out the relationship between joel and the reader for the upcoming chapters to hurt, you know?

(p.s. there's mention of joel carrying the reader. i know some people might be put off by this, but joel is quite buff. i mean the man works in construction, i promise he can handle carrying an adult for less than a minute)

————-　❈　————-

The air was getting chillier, the change of seasons not going unnoticed. (Y/N)'s focus was razor-sharp as she drove through the streets of Austin, making sure to take in the ever-changing leaves on the trees she passed by. As an exchange student, it wasn't cheap to be renting a car, and the money her parents were generously providing her could only last for so long. She desperately needed another source of income. Her prayers were answered the week prior when she stumbled upon an advertisement near the exit to her university. It was for a babysitting job with a decent pay and convenient working hours. She wrote an email to the address written on the poster:

Dear Mr. Miller, Is the babysitting job still available? I'm a student currently on an exchange program at the University of Texas. And while I haven't had prior experience in babysitting, I used to be an assistant teacher in a kindergarten. I'm very good with children and at keeping them alive (this is a joke, but I am pretty responsible, my mother can attest to this). If there is any need for it, I can also cook and clean up after each visit. Thank you for your consideration and I hope to hear from you soon!

Sincerely, (Y/N) (L/N)

To which, much to her surprise, she received an answer shortly after:

Dear Ms. (L/N), Yes, the babysitting job is still available. It's for my 12-year-old daughter Sarah. And while I appreciate all that you have to offer, there's nothing much to do but keep her alive, so your skill would be useful here. You can come by our house on 1411 Sullivan DR any day of the week after 5pm, we'll go over the details then. If you're still interested, you'll be able to start right away. See you soon!

Best regards, Joel Miller

After half-an-hour of driving, the house finally came into view. Just as she parked the car in the vacant driveway, and before she went to meet some stranger she hoped wouldn't turn out to be a creep, the girl gathered her wits and courage with a clasp of her hands, a deep breath, and a firm nod as if to say 'There's no going back now, and if I die, it is what it is'.

Her three knocks on the door were followed by a long pause which made her believe she had arrived either at the wrong time or the wrong house. But as she was about to turn around and flee in embarrassment, out came a middle-aged man with disheveled hair.

"Hello. Is this the Miller's house?"

"Yes, hi! I am so sorry I kept you waiting. (Y/N), right?" he said, wiping his hands on a rag.

"That's me."

"Great. I'd shake your hand, but mine are a bit dirty. Please, come in." he stepped out of the way to let her walk further into his home.

It was decently spacious and cozy, which temporarily put her at ease. They walked through the living room into the dimly lit kitchen. It smelled of spices and garlic.

He gestured around, "Welcome to our humble abode. Pardon the mess, I didn't exactly have time to tidy up," While it wasn't exactly messy, they could benefit from an extra set of hands. "You said you weren't from around here?"

"No, I'm quite a long way from home," (Y/N) said, taking a seat at the dining table. "I wanted to see other places, gain a bit of independence. Austin was one of the first to accept me, and since it seemed like a fine city to live in, I packed up my things and arrived at the beginning of summer."

"I'm Texas born and raised myself. Wouldn't dream of living anywhere else. How old are you exactly?"

"Twenty-three, sir."

He proceeded to rummage through the fridge that was almost full. "Alright. Would you like a beer, then? And please, call me Joel. You're making me feel old."

"Right, Joel. And sure, I'll have one if you do."

Joel handed her a cold bottle as he sat down across from her. She was familiar with the brand, they served it at the bar she worked at part-time on weekends. For the next hour-and-a-half, the two discussed (Y/N)'s life, her studies, Joel's job as a contractor, and Sarah. At some point, the attacks on 9/11 came up, unpacking the nation-wide terror they had brought. She recalled the panicked calls she received from her parents, begging her to come home. She had to explain that she was alright, that there was nothing to do about it now, and that she couldn't leave the city when she had already formed ties and taken on responsibilities.

Just as Joel was getting into another anecdote from Sarah's childhood, they heard keys jangling in the front door as it opened and shut.

"Speak of the devil. Done playing already?"

A soft voice rang through the house, "Yeah, I'm really tired." Then a pigtailed girl stopped abruptly at the entrance to the kitchen. She was wearing a soccer kit, carrying both a purple backpack as well as a blue duffel bag.

"Sarah, this is (Y/N). She's gonna be your nanny from now on."

The little girl hesitated at first, then gently approached the table and extended her small hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you." she said with as much courage as she could muster, earning a smile in return.

Getting up from his seat, Joel kissed his daughter's head and told her food was ready, which prompted the child to run upstairs to her room. Feeling like it was her cue to leave, (Y/N) followed suit and slung her bag on her shoulder.

"Would you like to stay for dinner? I'm not much of a chef, but I have to admit I make a mean chili." said the man, pointing at the steaming pot on the stovetop.

The smell of a homemade meal was making her mouth water, but she hadn't known them for long enough to get comfortable. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I should really get going. I have some reading to finish before morning."

The two made their way back to the front door. "Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, yeah?"

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Miller- Joel, sorry." she corrected herself, waving him goodbye as she swiftly got into her car and began the drive back to her apartment. She hadn't even begun the job, yet (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy about her small success.

————-　❈　————-

A couple of months had passed and (Y/N) was really enjoying her new gig. Sarah turned out to be the sweetest girl the young woman had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She wasn't fussy or troublesome, was very well-mannered, oh-so-friendly and kind, and a fan of using sarcasm here and there, which seemed to be something she picked up from her father. Joel, too, was accommodating to the new addition of their little family. (Y/N) could sense, however, that he was somewhat more reserved - closed, even. It was harder to get to know her employer, but she didn't mind, these things took time.

Leaning against her car, the young woman read her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' for the 4th or 5th time. Something about it brought her great comfort, especially during the colder months. The festive season was quickly approaching and she wasn't sure if gifts would be appropriate so early-on in her employment. She had zoned out for so long, she didn't have time to register her name being called nor a pair of arms swiftly wrapping around her waist.

"Hey, kiddo." she laughed, hugging the curly-haired girl back.

She let go and stared up at her babysitter with her big round eyes. "Did daddy send you to pick me up?"

"No, I just finished classes and thought I'd swing by."

"What are you reading?"

(Y/N) turned the book to show the cover, "Pride and Prejudice. It's an old book."

"What's it about?"

"Uh- well, it's about a lot of things, but mainly it's the story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy who have to overcome their differences to end up together. Hence the title."

"That sounds kind of interesting."

"Yeah, but it takes a lot of hatred and pettiness to get there."

The little girl shook her head in disapproval, "Adults. Why do they have to complicate things?"

"Alright, wise one. Get in before you get cold."

The car ride gave them more time to bond. They sang to Sarah's favourite songs and talked about whatever was on the little genius's mind. It was a unique experience for both of them, two feminine energies collided, something each of them longed for dearly.

At home, (Y/N) spent a significant amount of time helping Sarah with her homework: a bunch of English grammar exercises, essay writing, as well as some algebra. Following their arduous work, the girls decided they deserved some fun and made creamy pasta (one of Sarah's favourites) for dinner. Whilst waiting for the patriarch to come home, they got comfortable on the couch to watch 'Mrs. Doubtfire'.

Unsure if she should speak during the movie, Sarah poked her babysitter's arm. "Do you have siblings?"

"I don't, no. Why do you ask?"

"I don't have any either. Do you ever get lonely?"

(Y/N) wasn't sure where these questions were coming from, but she decided to entertain them anyway. "I used to, growing up. Though my parents did a very good job at making sure I felt loved at home. I miss them a lot, but I'm happy here too."

There was a long pause as Sarah was visibly deep in her thoughts. "I never knew my mom," It shouldn't have shocked the young woman, she assumed Joel and his wife had separated after noting the absence of a maternal presence in their home, but it still came as a surprise. "Daddy said she had her own reasons and that they both agreed for me to live with him."

"Adults always have their own reasons for things, even if it may seem dumb. I'm sure it was a very difficult decision to make for her and that she loves you very much."

"I don't think about her often anymore. My dad can be busy, but he does a good job. He comes to every game, takes me to fairs and carnivals, helps me with school projects. He's also extra cool on vacation."

Something about her remark pulled at (Y/N)'s heart. "I see. He seems like a really great dad." The girls went right back to watching Robin Williams dance around while doing chores, as if they hadn't just touched on a thought-provoking subject.

It was almost 11pm and Joel was nowhere to be seen. Instead of letting the girl pass out on the couch, (Y/N) let her hold onto her back as she carried the sleepy child all the way to her room. Making sure all was right, she put her to bed, closed the window, turned on the night-light, then made her way towards the door.

"You're really cool," Sarah said sleepily with her eyes closed. "I hope you stay for a long time."

No compliment in the world could compare to a kid's heartfelt approval. "I hope so too, sweetie. Good night and good dreams."

Walking back downstairs, the young woman took one look around the house and decided she could pass the time cleaning up here and there. She started by tidying up the living room: folding the throws, fluffing up the pillows, putting the board games back on the bookshelf. Then she moved onto the kitchen where she took the trash out, scrubbed the surfaces clean as silently as she could, put the leftover pasta away, and washed the dishes. Satisfied with her work, she went back up to Sarah's room to leave a glass of water by her bed in case she got thirsty in the middle of the night.

In a house that was dead silent, she heard heavy footsteps. In a short panic, she grabbed a pair of scissors that were lying on the desk and crept up closer to the door. The steps were agonisingly slow and calculated. The woman felt like she was in a slasher movie. Babysitters always die first. The only indication she had of the intruder's whereabouts was from the shadow that was created by the light from the kitchen. This is what you get for not turning on every single light in a house where you're all by yourself. One of the most important rules in horror movies, she thought. The shadow approached closer and closer to the door, and just when she hoped the distance was close enough, she leapt out of the room and went straight for the stranger. Unfortunately, her blow was blocked and her body pushed up against the wall. In a blink, she realised what had happened.

"What the hell, Joel?" she whisper-shouted.

"(Y/N)? What are you still doing here?"

"Doing my job. Couldn't let Sarah stay all by herself with no indication of when you'd be back. That would be irresponsible of me."

He let go of her arms, lazily rubbing his face. "You're right, I'm sorry. I got held up and my cellphone died. I'm so exhausted, I completely forgot you were here."

"It's all good, I didn't hear you arrive either," she paused, noticing the blood running down his left hand. "Oh my God, Joel, you're bleeding!"

He looked at the wound like he hadn't even felt it until then, "Oh, this is nothin'. I had worse accidents at work."

"Still, it could get infected. Please, take a seat in the kitchen, I'll be right back."

She went straight to the bathroom to fetch the first-aid kit. It was essential to know where it was, what it had and how to use everything as someone who had to watch a small human being. She went back downstairs to start working on Joel's injury.

"I'm so sorry. I was so caught up in my own mind, I thought you were an intruder, and it was the only weapon at hand-"

"Please don't apologise. It was my bad, really. I should have announced myself," he spoke as he watched her gently clean the cut with a saline cleansing wipe. "Can't blame you for doing your best to defend yourself. Takes courage."

(Y/N) realised that upon closer inspection, her employer was quite handsome. Dark messy hair, a somewhat upkept beard, broad build, crow's feet that indicated how often he smiled, as well as nose wrinkles that indicated how often he frowned. She carefully applied medical tape to close-off the wound and went to put the kit back where it belonged. On her way down, she noticed him looking around in slight confusion.

"Did you…clean the house?"

"Oh, you know, just lightly tidied up. I'm not a fan of leaving the places I stay at messy. Kind of a habit," she noted the silence and her hands instantly became cold. "God, I'm sorry. Again. I- I didn't even ask if you were okay with me touching your belongings, I got-"

"No, you're good. You're good. Don't sweat it. It's just that," Joel chuckled at her need to be so polite after months of working together. "You didn't have to do this. I can't ask you do to things that aren't part of your job description."

"I know. And I don't mind. Really. It's not like I'm playing Cinderella day and night," she said as they shared a laugh. "My job is to take care of a kid and the environment plays a big role."

(Y/N) picked up her bag, ready to leave for the night, "See you on Monday, Joel."

He reached out to touch her shoulder, then just as quickly removed his hand as if she had burned him. "Uh- do you- are you- um," She looked at him with furrowed brows, it's almost as if he was…flustered? "What are your plans for Christmas? Or, you know, holiday season? If you celebrate anything at all-"

"I won't be able to fly out to see my family this year, so I haven't made any other plans yet. Why do you ask?"

The man scratched his neck sheepishly, only then realising how long he had kept her standing on his porch when it wasn't exactly warm outside. "Would you like to celebrate with us? Sarah would be ecstatic to have you."

Warmth blossomed in her chest at the sudden invitation. So gifts are appropriate. Noted.

"I would love to celebrate the holidays with you guys. But only if you don't mind."

"I don't mind."

"Excellent, then I'll be here."

"Great."

"Good."

They stared at each other for way too long, the nanny realised, bearing the slightest of smiles. "Well, then. Good night, Mr. Miller."

He shook his head at her teasing tactic, "Drive safe, Ms. (L/N)."

There she was again, driving back to her apartment, giggling to herself like a maniac and for what? They invited her to celebrate a holiday. People did that all the time. Office workers, family members, casual friends, new and old lovers, it was truly nothing exceptional. But to her it felt different and she couldn't tell if it was because Sarah liked her enough to want her there or if it was because it came from him. Christmas was three weeks away. Three. Weeks. Away. Gifts. She needed gifts. What would she give them? What did they like? It came to her that she didn't know them that well, which meant she had some investigating to do in the little time she had left for shopping.

————-　❈　————-

When Christmas finally came, (Y/N) simply could not contain her excitement. She thought long and hard about the presents she would give the Millers, and while they may have appeared simple, she hoped that they would be appreciated. She personally wrapped them up in brown paper and decorated them with stamps, ribbons, and tags, firmly believing in the art of gift-wrapping. Austin had yet to see snow, she didn't think it would ever happen, yet the city was nevertheless bursting with festive spirit. Various lights decorated the trees and bushes in public parks. People hosted diverse markets in the streets where they sold artisanal goods and delicious foods. (Y/N) had gone ice-skating with the Millers a couple of weeks prior. Joel was as bad as she thought he would be; Sarah, however, was a natural. They enjoyed a lively Christmas parade that same day.

After parking in front of the house that was very tastefully decorated with her help, the young woman made her way towards the door, her homemade chocolate tarte in hand, and knocked, taking a second to register a male voice she did not recognise. The door swung open to reveal a man not much older than her, wearing a plaid shirt and dark blue jeans.

Looking her up and down, the stranger gave her a smirk, "And who might you be?"

"Hands off the babysitter, Tommy!" she heard Joel yell from deep inside the house.

"Ah, the famous babysitter!" he exclaimed, opening the door further. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

It smelled of oven-roasted turkey, of cigarette smoke, and of pine from the christmas tree. She found all of them moving about the kitchen: cutting vegetables, setting the table, washing the dishes. She felt like she'd arrived a tad too late.

"Can I help with anything?" she said, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"Nah, everything's good to go," Joel replied as he scrubbed the remaining pots, "(Y/N), this is Tommy, my brother."

Said brother took her hand and placed a tender kiss on the back of it, "Very nice to meet you." Sarah couldn't hide her look of disgust if she tried.

"I didn't know Joel had a brother."

"You didn't tell her about me?" Tommy asked in exaggerated disbelief.

"Was I supposed to? Didn't know I was running a datin' agency."

"Thought that was part of the deal when we agreed to be each other's wingmen."

"Mm, don't recall us ever doing that."

"Well, we did. Spiritually. When we went to Buddy's Place? It was just around the time when Cat-" Tommy's monologue cut short with one sharp glare from Joel. (Y/N) could practically taste the tension emanating from him. Not a big fan of reminiscing the past, she noted.

"You know what, it's no problem. It's the perfect occasion to get to know each other, eh?" the younger brother flashed her a smile. They sure had impressive genes in this family.

Once the eldest Miller was done cleaning, all three adults cracked open a few cold ones to start off the evening. Tommy had the brilliant idea to teach Sarah a few card tricks, peaking their guest's interest.

"What are you teaching a 12-year-old cards for?" (Y/N) amusedly asked. Sarah seemed excited, she was one of those kids who loved to learn, it didn't matter what it was.

"First of all, every member of the Miller family knows how to play cards, we start young. And second, if not me, then who?" He made a good point. Tommy was, after all, the fun brother. "Wanna join in? I'm told I'm a great teacher."

She caught onto the subtle flirt and found herself wanting to return the energy. He was tall, he was dark, he was handsome. He smelled of cigarettes and beer with a hint of citrus notes. Not bad with kids but he wouldn't want any of his own anytime soon; very friendly, which for him also meant outgoing, ballsy, and prone to getting into trouble; charming to the point that he might seduce a few dozen women in one night; funny enough to make people like and maybe even trust him. She didn't mind flirting, but that was the extent of her intentions, and something told her Tommy Miller felt the same way.

They spent some time watching as Tommy performed the most outrageous tricks seen to man, to which his sole excuse was "I'm a bit rusty". He also tried to teach Sarah the art of cheating which, much to his disappointment and sorrow, his niece refused to take part in for moral reasons. (Y/N) noted the elder Miller's absence and excused herself from the oh-so-riveting demonstration of a disappearing card to go look for him. After searching the kitchen, his bedroom, as well as the garage, she stepped outside with a throw blanket and found him sitting on one of the patio chairs.

"What are you doing here? You'll get cold." he said, glancing at her from the side.

"I'm tougher than I look," she answered, nevermind the blanket tightly wrapped around her frame. "Came to keep you company."

"Who said I need any?" She sensed a hint of a playful tone.

"I don't know, you look awfully lonely sitting next to that empty chair." This earned her a light chuckle as she sat down. He didn't look very warm with one hand in his jacket pocket and his collar lifted up to his chin. She proceeded to awkwardly move her chair closer to his and slowly, as if dealing with a wild animal, reached out to wrap the throw around both of them, thankful that it was big enough for the job.

Sensing how still and tense he was, (Y/N) felt the need to talk to lighten the mood, "So, do you always sit outside all by yourself? In the dark? And in complete silence? Brooding-"

"I get the picture, and no," he took a sip from his bottle. "Sometimes I like to sit in my car."

He was capable of humour, which was a refreshing discovery after countless weeks of being formal. She understood wanting to define clear boundaries between employer and employee, but when she was essentially tasked to bond with his child and regularly invited to family activities, the lines naturally blurred, and her curiosity intensified.

"Who's Cat?"

Joel was silent for a second, then let out a reluctant sigh, "Cat was…a girl I knew way back when I was young."

"You're talking like you're in your 50s."

"I'm 34 to be precise, but fine, back when I was younger," he said grumpily. "We dated for a bit, then we didn't. That's how it went with most women I met."

"Oh, is this a Casanova situation?"

"No, more of a 'not ready to commit to a kid' situation," The silence that followed was loud, (Y/N) didn't want to make a sound, afraid he'd realise what he was doing and shut himself off. "I was 21 when Sarah was born. She's the joy of my life, I don't know what I'd do or where I'd be without her, truly. But...it was hard back then for a single dad with a newborn. Never went to college, had to take on side jobs to sustain both of us. My love life wasn't exactly a priority, and when the opportunity presented itself, they fled as soon as they heard the mention of a child."

The next question was risky, but she couldn't think of anything else, "So you haven't dated since your younger days? Not even the hot single moms in your area?"

This made Joel laugh heartily, a sound she loved to listen to, something she wanted to hear more often. "Not really. I mean I've flirted here and there, but Sarah and I are good the way we are now. She's my priority, and I want to make sure my partner's good to my kid too, you know?"

"If you don't mind my asking, what happened to Sarah's mom?" (Y/N) probed further, "Sarah told me-"

"Nothing happened. She left and that was that." The wall was back up. You pushed your luck.

Luckily for them, Sarah called for everyone to play cards. Which was then followed by board games. What they discovered that evening is that (Y/N) was either incredibly skilled at them or simply unbelievably lucky. She and Tommy got on well, making innocent physical contact here and there, high-fiving each other, sharing a lot of laughter, too much laughter for the man that sat across from them. Joel wasn't jealous, he was never jealous, but the sight didn't make him feel happy either.

After a while, the oven beeped, indicating that the turkey was ready. The four of them prepared the table with bowls of salads, bread slices, side-dishes, making space in the centre for the bird accompanied by roasted vegetables. (Y/N) joined in their prayer before they dug into their food. They shared all sorts of life stories: Tommy's time in the army, the most frustrating clients Joel had ever had, more embarrassing anecdotes from Sarah's childhood, funny and dramatic events that occurred while (Y/N) was on vacation. The young woman then brought out the tarte she'd made for the occasion, much to everyone's delight. It was as silky as she hoped it would be, tasting notes of coffee in her chocolate dessert covered in walnut crumbs. The ambience was relaxing, they sat under the dim light of the scented candles dispersed throughout the kitchen, bathing in the sounds of laughter and utensils scraping against the food on their plates.

When all was devoured, they moved the party back to the living room and Tommy decided it was time for presents. Sarah received hers first, which turned out to be a collection of CDs of her favourite musicians from Tommy and a skateboard she'd wanted for a long time from her dad. She hugged each of them very tightly, already excited to put both of her new belongings to use. Then it was Joel's turn to unwrap a brand new wallet gifted by his brother (apparently, he had complained about his old one he owned for more than a decade) and a second-hand guitar from Sarah that she acquired from a friend's cousin then paid for a cleaning by a professional with her own pocket-money (with a little help from uncle Tommy). Tommy received a steel lighter from Joel, who claimed the custom engraving – a hand-drawn cowboy hat on the front and T. Miller on the bottom – was Sarah’s touch. Just when everyone thought they were done, (Y/N) cleared her throat, calling for their attention, whilst dragging her bag closer to where she sat on the floor.

“I brought gifts of my own.” She declared and pulled out a box and gave it to Tommy, whom she'd met only hours ago. “I’m sorry, I took this just in case someone else would be here, but I wish I had gotten to know you sooner to customise the present to your taste- “

“Oh my sweet God,” he muttered, staring at the large crystal bottle of whiskey. “This is one of the fanciest kind around, it ain’t fuckin’ cheap either!”

“You’re lucky Tommy here is a whiskey connoisseur.” Joel said from his laid-back position on the couch.

The younger brother engulfed her in a warm hug soon after, “You got my taste just right, sweetheart, thank you.”

The room was silent as she extended a purple envelope to Sarah, who sat across from her. It didn’t seem all too exciting. The kid in question opened the envelope, eyeing her babysitter, who herself seemed a bit nervous. The silence in the room was suddenly broken as the 12-year-old squealed her hardest squeal, forcing both Millers to cover their ears.

“It’s two VIP tickets to the Halican Drops concert in Houston next year!” she exclaimed, launching herself at the now grinning woman. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“How’d you get those? I thought they were sold out.” her father asked, clearly having gone through the struggle of standing in long queues to make his daughter happy.

It was difficult to breathe with a prepubescent child sitting in your lap as she held you in a death-grip. “I have an old friend who happens to work at the venue.” she replied, accepting the kiss on the cheek from Sarah who sat back on the ground, practically buzzing as she stared at the pieces of paper in her hands.

Lastly, (Y/N) got up to stand in front of Joel as he looked up at the object she extended in complete surprise.

“You really didn’t have to- “

“Just open it.”

So he did. What he found inside was a Prussian blue knit scarf.

“I noticed you never wear one, and it’s pretty chilly out, so I figured I’d knit you one myself. Finished it just in time a couple of days ago. The color looks flattering on you.” she explained, blushing deeper and deeper with every word. She failed to notice that he, too, was heating up.

“Well, I’ll be damned. This woman can bake, she can knit, she’s smart, and she plays cards like a pro. I mean what can’t you do?” And while she knew Tommy was teasing, she couldn’t help but redden even more.

“I’m pretty proud of my mixing skills,” she added, making him pause with a face that read ‘no way’. “I’m a bartender on the weekends.”

She had barely finished her sentence when she yelped as Tommy scooped her up and over his shoulder. “That’s it! I’m taking this one with me. It was nice to see ya, big brother!”

(Y/N) squealed and wiggled around as much as she could to try to get him to let her down whilst Sarah did her best to save her friend by clinging to one of her uncle’s legs in protest. It was one chaotic scene unfolding in front of Joel, who had not moved from his seat, still staring at the scarf in his hands as he ran his thumb over the soft wool.

After all that excitement, the household members spent a few more hours watching ‘Home Alone 2’ and ‘Jingle All the Way’, DVDs Joel had bought earlier that week. During the viewing, he caught himself glancing at the woman curled up against the arm rest less than a few feet away from him. She remained completely oblivious, amused by the tomfoolery happening on-screen. He left the room for a moment to dispose of his empty bottle in the kitchen. On the short way there, he realised he was slightly tipsy. While he was rummaging through the drawers, he heard someone come up behind him.

“Looking for this?” he turned around to see (Y/N) holding up the bottle-opener. She walked up to the counter and opened the bottle in his hand, brushing her cold fingers against his warm ones in the process.

“You’re cold.” he commented bluntly.

“Yeah, my extremities get cold easily. That’s why I walk around in gloves and thick socks as soon as the temperature starts dropping.”

She threw away her own empty bottle and swiftly turned around to walk back into the living room, when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist ever so gently.

“I didn’t get to thank you back there. You know, for the present?” he spoke softly, giving her a rare smile. “It was real nice of you.”

She noticed the way his pupils were slightly wider than usual and his stance that seemed to swing back-and-forth ever so subtly. “Joel, are you…are you drunk?”

“It takes a lot more than a few bottles of IPA to get me there. I’m just fine.” he whispered, for what reason she wasn’t sure, then unexpectedly walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t leave her to contemplate her next actions for too long because he emerged not even a minute later, holding his right hand behind his back.

They found themselves standing closer than they should have, but neither of them seemed to care as Joel revealed the mystery object.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

It was the most beautiful edition of ‘Jane Eyre’ she had ever laid her eyes on. Red leather hardback with golden accents all over it, including the fore-edges, it looked like something out of a royal library.

“How did you know?” her question was vague, but she knew he knew what she meant.

“Sarah told me about the books that you like, said you haven’t read this one in a long time.”

Her warm embrace came to him as a surprise, but in the state of mind he was in, not only did he accept it, but it felt good, it felt right to hug her back.

“It happens to be one of my favourites, so thank you. Really. For all of the things you’ve done for me so far.”

The two held onto each other for longer than needed until Tommy’s call brought them back to reality. The other Miller eyed the returning pair suspiciously as they took their respective places on the couch and went back to watching the movie in comfortable silence. Only he noticed the red book in her possession and fought hard to stop himself from smiling.

Later that night, after all the dishes had been washed, the leftovers put away, and the only child put to bed, Tommy reluctantly sat in the back of the cab Joel had called for him. I am not fetching my brother from a jail cell on Christmas Day, he'd told him. When he walked back into his home, he saw a sleeping figure on the couch, covered by one of the throws.

He went into his bedroom and took no more than 10 minutes to replace all of his linen with fresh ones from the closet in the hallway. He wasn’t going to let his guest sleep on a couch, especially not under a row of windows or next to the entrance door. Carefully picking her up, and she was one deep sleeper, he made his way back to his bed to lay her down on the new sheets.

My extremities get cold easily.

He changed his usual blanket for a thicker one then grabbed a pillow and went to make his bed downstairs. He picked up the scarf lying on the coffee table once more and unfolded it entirely, only then noticing the tiny initials embroidered in grey into one of the ends – J.M. Upon an even closer inspection, he realised it smelled of vanilla and flowers.

————-　❈　————-

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

tags: @elliaze @joeldjarin

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

[only111u]

a/n: wow I’m alr doing a series 😭 this is probably gonna be like 3 parts long so hope yall are excited for that :] I also pinkey swear to post the Han fic next I’m just a tad bit lazy. I will have it out in like 3 days tho TRUST 🙏🏼

[I] [II]

paring: Lee Know x afab Reader (both hs students)

warnings: reader gets followed home

w/c: 1.4k

0.2- paper ball

Another paper ball was thrown at the back of your head as you tried to write your notes. You already knew who it was. It was that stupid rat Lee Minho. God you hated him so much. He just always knew how to piss you off and what makes it worse is that he was best friends with your brother so he was always over at your house. Even in your own home you never got to escape him. He and your brother always played pranks on you even when you were just minding your own business.

You turned around from your seat that was directly infront of him and you threw your pencil at his head [mainly aiming for his eyes]. He flinches and throws another paper ball harder directly at your face. You were officially fed up and threw your charger head at him. Hearing all the commotion, the teacher turned to look at you two and cleared her throat.

“Are you two fighting again?” The teacher asked in a slightly defeated and annoyed tone.

“Well he started it!”

“Only because she wouldn’t move her big head!”

You turned around glaring at him and throwing a paper ball that he had thrown at you in his face. The teacher being fed up with you two decided to give you both 6 hours detention.

That was basically the end of the world to you. Not only did you have to deal with him during the school day and at your HOUSE but also three hours after the school for TWO DAYS. Your parents were absolutely going to go ballistic. Detention was already bad enough for them but alone with a boy? Oh they were not going to let you live it through.

Sure they did infact love Minho they just didn’t fully know him. Everytime he came over he always acted kind and respectful to them, but you always complained about him being an ass so they were just kind of in the middle with him. Even then they still loved him like a second son. Feeding him, taking him on family vacations, even INTRODUCING him to some of your female cousins to set them up. You never understood why everyone liked him so much.

You almost got excited when the last bell of the day rang when the teacher that gave you detention came to collect you from the class. You picked up all your things and told her that you’d be at her classroom shortly. You slowly walked to your locker hoping that time would go by faster if you just slowed down. Instead you were jumpscared by the face of Lee Minho.

“What do you want punk” you you death glared him as you started decoding your lock.

“The teacher told me to come get you because you were taking too long” he lazily spoke at you.

“Well I didn’t need you collect me”

“Trust me, I didn’t want to either”

“Ugh whatever, I got all of my stuff. Let’s just go” you annoyedly spoke trying to just get this over with.

Ugh he drives me crazy

She’s driving me crazy

You both got to the classroom and the teacher started to speak.

“If you are here today that means that you have acted inappropriately, disobedient, or rudely throughout the week. During this time you will not be permitted to be on your phone or laptop or sleep. You will only be permitted to do academic work. We hope you become better by the end of your detention” she read off a paper in a monotone voice.

You looked over at Minho next to you and saw him mocking the way the teacher spoke. You couldn’t help but giggle under your breath. Look at that smile. He looks at you and smiles lightly. Then you both came to your senses and quickly looked away. After 30 minutes your stomach was already rumbling. You went up to your teacher to ask to go the vending machine for a light snack but she just told you weren’t allowed to leave the classroom during detention. You sighed in defeat and went back to your seat.

Another 30 minutes went by and your hunger was getting worse and you needed eat something. Minho noticed and just ignored you. You went back up to the teachers desk and begged her to at least get something to eat and she reluctantly agreed. As soon as the teacher left the room Minho took out his phone and immediately started playing on his phone.

You too took out your laptop and started to work on one of your essays that was due soon. Minho looked over at what you were doing and laughed at you. You’re so adorable. You just side eyed him and continued to type. “Why are you always doing school work. Don’t you ever do anything fun?” Minho teases you

“Well if you look at your grades and my grades you’d know why” you retaliated.

“Well if you look at your amount friends and my amount friends you’d know why” he spoke back.

You just scoffed at him and went back to work.

How does anyone like him

It had already been 10 minutes since the teacher left and you were thinking she had left the school. You were genuinely feeling nauseous and lightheaded and Minho started to notice. “Jeez are you ok? You look ghostly” he sounded almost, caring?

“Yeah I just didn’t have anything to eat all day so just a little lightheaded” you explained

He reached into his bag and got out a granola bar. “Here, since you’re so desperate for food” he handed it to you and went back on his phone.

You took it from his hand and started eating it. You threw out the wrapper and sat back down. By now you already had one hour left of your detention for the day and your teacher still wasn’t back. Minho had actually put his phone away and started on his work and you continued with yours. You were just ready to go home already when the teacher finally came in. Of course to no one’s surprise, she was empty handed. Her lipstick was smudged and hair slightly messy. “Sorry honey the machines didn’t work.” She was so obviously lying that she didn’t even believe her own lie.

You just told her “It’s ok” and went back to doing your work on your notebook.

Finally the bell had rung letting all the kids at detention go home and you called your brother. The phone was already 4 rings in and he was still not picking up. After your brother didn’t pick up you called your dad, no response. You finally tried your mom and she didn’t reply either. You gave up on finding a ride and decided to just walk home.

You had just made it out of the school gates when a car starts driving slowly behind you. You just ignored it and kept walking. No matter how much farther you went the car continued to follow you and you started to get scared. You looked through your contacts list and for some reason decided to call Minho. He surprisingly picked up within two rings and you started to talk quickly under your breath to him.

“Ok um hi I know this is weird but can you walk with me? Or like drive me home or something? Theres someone following me in a car right now and I just had a weird feel-“ you were cut off mid ramble by the sound of the call ending.

You just stared at your phone in shock and started to slightly tear up. You knew he was an asshole but hanging up on a person who needed help? You never thought he was so mean. As tears started falling from your eyes a raindrop fell on your head and you started to cry even harder. Your day really couldn’t get worse.

The raindrops started to fall more and you just started crying harder. As you kept walking faster the window of the car lowered and a man who looked to be in his mid-50’s started to cat call you. You were just 15 minutes into your 30 minute walk back home and you really started to feel hopeless. You continued to walk in the cold rain with the man still following you when another car pulled in front of him and stopped.

“Get in”

To be continued…

#skz #skz ff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz lee know #skz lee minho #skz stay #skz fanfic #stray kids #lee know #lee know ff #lee know fanfic

[awkward-tension-art]

Remain By his Side

Chp.2 Chp.3 Chp.4 Chp.5 Chp.6 (Smut)

You didn't expect that during your last year in undergrad, your entire life would shift. The military grabbed you, questioned you, and now you were someone they had on their radar.

Your cousin, Sherry, was as well.

And through all of this, you met Leon Kennedy. The man you'd fall in love with, and remain by his side.

~

This is gonna start off rather slow burn, but, and i'm going to go ahead and spoil, that reader and Leon DO get together. I want to write a series on Leon's relationship through out his years because of how his mental state changes through the RE series. also i'm actually a sucker for angst. a lot of angst. Also I didn't proofread, lol.

Enjoy! there will be more chapters added.

warnings: Reader is biologically female, but I try and keep pronouns gender neutral. If i ever slip up, i will need someone to tell me. This chapter has, probably, a lot of military inaccuracies. also a lot of FBI inaccuracies. Reader is a scientist and is Sherry's cousin.

Two people, a man and a woman, had walked into the class you assisted. They were wearing sharp, black suites. Their critical eyes swept over the lecture hall of about 40 undergraduate students. 

Your professor stopped the lecture on microorganisms, “I’ll give you time to write these for your notes,” He said before walking to the back of the hall.

Your attention was taken by a student raising his hand. Looking away from your professor and the strangers, you focused on the student's question. Before you could answer properly, your name was called softly and you looked up, “Keep your question, I’ll be right back.” you told him before walking to where your professor was. 

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, unsure what was going on. Who were these people? FBI? CIA? Why’d they want to talk to you? You were just in your 4th year at the university. Did you accidentally commit a crime? Did you somehow sneak 3 pounds of heroin across the border in your sleep?

Ok, maybe not. But having two individuals with suits ask for you was weird.

The man, with cool blue eyes and dark brunette hair, confirmed your name before commanding, “Come with us. We need to ask you some questions.” Without waiting, he turned and walked out the door. The woman, a blonde with warm green eyes, followed, but turned back to make sure you were close behind. Luckily, you managed to grab your backpack before leaving.

You heard your professor begin his lecture all over again just as you walked out of the class, “Can you tell me what this is about?” You asked them as you sped up your steps to keep up with them.

“No.” 

“Who are you?” You asked them.

Wordlessly, the woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a shiny metal badge. 

FBI.

FBI?!

You shut the fuck up extremely quick.

The three of you left the building, you looked back, hoping whatever was going on would be settled quickly.

It wasn’t. At all. 

You were taken into the back of a black van. The agents sat in front of you, staring. 

“So…” You mentally cringed at how awkward you sounded, “Can I get your names?” You asked, hoping you didn’t irritate them.

“I am agent Olivia Dunham,” The woman stated, “This is agent Peter Bishop.”

Your next question was a shot in the dark, “Where are we headed?” 

“Fort Leonard Wood.” agent Dunham answered. You were pleasantly surprised she actually gave you the truth. You half expected her to say ‘classified’.

That’ll take a couple hours… you realized. Thank god you grabbed your bag. You could at least look over some of the students' papers you were supposed to grade. Besides, it’ll keep your mind busy from the anxiety you felt. 

Fort Leonard Wood was a military base. It clicked in your head, “Is my brother…” Was he ok? What happened to him? He had been sent to deal with a situation in Raccoon City. but since then, he hasn’t been heard from, “He’s in Delta Force. Did something happen?” 

“It’s not your brother we are concerned about.” Bishop responded, “It's your aunt Birkin.”

Aunt Annette?

“What-?”

“Any questions will have to wait until we get to Fort Leonard Wood.” Dunham snapped, shutting down your questions. 

Great… You swallowed and nodded before opening your bag to read and grade students' papers. You were a teacher's assistant, despite being your 4th year in undergraduate. Your professor luckily didn’t expect much heavy lifting from you. Just attend the classes to answer questions and help grade papers. It fit with your class schedule, which was a blessing considering your double major with immunology and microbiology. 

Despite your desperate attempt to focus on grading, you thought about your aunt Annette. 

You spent the summer with her, her husband and your cousin in Raccoon City. She gave you an internship for those months at Umbrella Corporation, to help your resume once you graduated. It was a wonderful summer. You were able to learn hands-on skills with research and lab work. 

You weren’t moving mountains, not in the slightest. Your tasks were mostly shadowing the other scientists, fetching them their reagents and samples, and passing along messages.

Still, the experience was one you held close to your heart.

If something was wrong with your aunt…where was Sherry?

“Is my cousin OK?” You looked up, “Please…can you tell me that much?”

Agent Duhman had sympathy for you. Thankfully, she bent and answered, “Your cousin is alive.” 

A tightness settled in your chest and wrapped around your heart. Sherry was alive? Why did the FBI establish her as alive?

Was your aunt dead? What about your uncle William?

What the fuck happened!?

The hours it took to get to the military base ticked by way too slowly. By the time the van came to a stop, you felt sick. Your hands were starting to shake and you had tunnel vision. You barely registered that you were taken out and walked into one of the facilities. Was this an administrative building? Garrison? Or was this a military prison?

The floors were white tile. The walls were painted brick. The hallways felt too small and too long. The lights felt too bright. Armed guards were at every door. You were scared. Stressed. 

What the hell was going on!?

“Wait in here.” Agent Bishop opened up a door to a small side room. There were some padded chairs and sofas. A countertop with a small coffee machine and cabinets. The door closed behind you, and you heard the door lock.

Lounge? Is this a lounge?

A small, shrill voice called your name, snapping you out of your stupor. Your cousin hopped up from one of the couches. She rushed to you and hugged your legs.

“Oh my god, Sherry!” You cried, kneeling to wrap your arms around her. You pulled her back to inspect her. She looked…filthy. Her blonde hair was crusted with grime. Her skin was covered in dirt and god knows what else. She had an unfamiliar red jacket over her shoulders. You held her face, “Sherry…what happened?”

“Sherry? Who is this?” An unfamiliar voice, masculine, grabbed your attention. He had approached and you looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, clear and striking blue. His light hair was darkened with mud. His uniform, RPD riot gear, was torn, bloodied and soaked with…god was that sewage? His left shoulder was bandaged with filthy, graying gauze. Underneath the gore you’d consider this stranger boyishly handsome. 

This stranger was in a worse off state than your little cousin.

“Sherry is my cousin.” You said carefully, wrapping your arms around her small frame.

Your little, blonde cousin pulled back. She gained your attention and held the dirty police officer's hand, “This is Leon. He saved me.”

“Saved you? From what?” You stood, making eye contact with Leon, “I…I don’t know what's going on. I was brought here from my college…they mentioned my aunt Annette-”

“Aunt?” Leon stopped you, “you’re related to Annette Birkin?” 

You nodded, “My moms sister. What happened?” 

So Leon told you. His explanation of last night. Undead. Zombies. Carnage and chaos. He told you that your uncle had become a mutated monster. Your aunt had been killed, crushed to death by his claws. He told you what he knew of the virus called ‘G-virus’. He was sparing you details, you knew that. Everything was vague enough that you had to assume some details on your own.

Halfway through his talk you had to sit down. 

The destruction of Raccoon City. Your aunt had a hand in the deaths of thousands. You did too, to a degree. You had that summer internship…

You held your cousin tightly. Silent tears slipping down your cheeks. Your emotions were haywire. Now, countless questions bounced around in your skull. 

Did your family know? Where was your brother? What will happen to Leon and Sherry? Why did this have to happen? 

You didn’t have much time to ask Leon any questions, because agent Bishop returned and took you away. You were questioned for over an hour by him, a soldier and then agent Dunham. Apparently you were a person of interest because of your internship. According to the FBI, it was suspicious that you worked for Umbrella and left a month before Raccoon City fell to undead. 

You had to convince them that you didn’t know that this would happen. You didn't know what the N.E.S.T was. You didn’t know the G-virus existed. You didn’t know your aunt was even doing something with such a dangerous virus.

Finally, you were released. You were taken back to the lounge, and told to wait. Your parents were on their way to be questioned. As well as your other siblings. You still haven't heard anything about your brother…

You sat on the couch, Sherry asleep next to you. Across from you on the other one was Leon. He was leaning back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He was waiting for…something. Family, perhaps? A girlfriend? Hell, maybe a boyfriend?

“Thank you,” You spoke softly, “For keeping Sherry safe.”

He perked up and looked at you before he nodded, “I’d do it all over again if I had to.” Leon said with a small smile. Though, you could detect that it was hollow. Empty. He was in pain both mentally and physically. 

“You're a good man,” You said, feeling the need to give him something close to reassurance before you continued, “What's going to happen to you and Sherry?” That question had been in your head the moment you united with your cousin.

He shook his head, “I don’t know.”

You frowned, “Where will you go once all of this is said and done?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have any family?” Looking back, it was definitely an insensitive question. But you didn’t know how someone like Leon could have no family. 

He shook his head and your heart broke. 

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled, “I..I didn’t mean to assume-.”

“It's OK.” the officer gently said, “You didn’t know.”

There was a lot you didn’t know. 

You didn’t know your aunt and uncle were making biological weapons. You didn’t know you worked for a company that destroyed a whole city. You didn’t know what a bioweapon was. 

You didn’t know when your family would get here. You didn’t know where your Delta Force brother was.

You didn’t know when the government decided to bomb Raccoon City. You didn’t know when the city was wiped off the face of the earth. You didn’t know how many souls were burned away and obliterated.

There was a lot you didn’t know.

#reader insert #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #my writing #leon kennedy #chapter 1

[ejzah]

A/N: @mashmaiden suggested a few prompts from the list linked below. Thanks for the inspiration! Set in season 3.

Prompt: 16. What do you have?” - “Pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles…that’s about it. Popcorn?”

Prompt List

***

Someone to Watch Over You

“You doing alright there, partner?” Kensi checked, leaning forward to look at Deeks. Even so with the way he was curled up, face pressed into his raised knee, she could only see side of one cheek.

“Fantastic,” he mumbled sarcastically. His hair was even more unruly than usual, sticking up randomly on several places and matted down in others while the left arm of his jacket was stained with dirt and ripped.

After working the same case involving a group of drug dealers all week, it had finally come to a head tonight. Deeks had been at the forefront since he infiltrated the group as Max Gentry. Everything was going well, until their criminal informant got nervous and inadvertently revealed Deeks’ identity.

Suddenly, a relatively non-violent takedown had morphed into Deeks fighting off 6 armed men. By the time Kensi, Sam, and Callen had reached him, all but one of the guys was down, Deeks bloodied, but alive.

It was terrifying. Fortunately, Deeks had come out of it with only minor injuries, though he did need to be on a 24 hour watch for a mild concussion. Which Kensi volunteered for. Deeks was apparently too exhausted and out of it to find it unusual, but Sam and Callen had teased her mercilessly.

“Hey, Deeks, we’re here?” She pulled into a spot across from her apartment.

He didn’t respond so she poked his shoulder several times; he squirmed out of reach, making a disgruntled sound.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he complained, slipping his seatbelt off, and getting out with a little less style than usual. He followed her through the door, plopping down on the couch while Kensi went around turning on a few lights and stashed (tossed) her bag in the bedroom.

There was a pile or two of laundry, possibly clean, which she scooted to the side. At this point, Deeks was well aware of her habits and even the most egregious messes didn’t shock him.

When she returned to the living room a few minutes later, Deeks had shucked off his boots and lay half on and half off the couch.

Kensi studied him under the dim light; the bruises had bloomed significantly in the last hour, particularly around his left temple, which bore a swollen purple-black knot. It looked bad, but could have been so much worse.

“Hey, I brought you a present,” Kensi announced quietly, holding out a glass of water and two orange tablets. She figured his head was probably pounding by now since he’d refused medication at the ER. S

Squinting through one eye, Deeks peered up at her. “Oh, god bless you,” he groaned, laboriously pushing himself into a seated position. He tossed both pills back and swallowed with a sound of relief.

He slumped bonelessly on the couch, jaw set tightly while he waited for the medication to set in. Kensi thought she saw a few dots of fresh blood under his nose.

The sudden need to comb her fingers through his hair or soothe his pain in some way struck her forcefully.

Kensi shook her head to dispel the idea. Clearly the exhaustion and worry was getting to her too.

“Ugh, my face is killing me.” Deeks paused and peeked up at her again. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like, “Well, it’s killing me” or “should have used your fists, not your face?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” Kensi said. “Not when you look like death.” She grinned. “Of course, tomorrow all bets are off and I have reign to tease you as much as I want.”

“I feel so loved,” Deeks drawled. Grimacing, he shifted around, looking fairly miserable.

“Are you hungry?” It had been hours since either of them ate.

“Eh, what do you have?”

“Um…pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles…that’s about it. I think? Don’t hold me to the soup though.” Deeks made a face at her suggestions. “Popcorn?”

“I’m pretty sure I had more in my cupboards when I was a struggling law student barely making rent and—” he cut himself off. “And, uh, waiting tables.”

“Shut up. I haven’t had time to go shopping this week,” Kensi defended herself. Or the last three weeks.

“Yeah, otherwise there’d be a stockpile of Twinkies and Reese’s in the kitchen,” Deeks joked.

“Ok, very funny. You’re lucky you’re injured. Enough about my shopping habits, do you want me to order something?”

“I’m not that hungry.” He touched his stomach briefly. “Honestly, I just want to sleep until my head stops hurting.”

“Ok.” Grabbing the TV controls, Kensi curled up on the other side of the couch.

“What are you doing?” Deeks asked.

“Watching TV. And supporting my partner,” Kensi replied, finding a nice baking competition. She muted the sound and turned on closed captions.

“Kens, you really don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

“What kind of person would I be to leave you to fend for yourself when you’re all bruised and pathetic looking?” She inclined her head. “Besides, I promised to do concussion checks and I can’t do that from my bedroom.”

“But—”

“Oh, just let somebody take care of you for once, Deeks,” she interrupted. “You did your part today, now you deserve to rest. Ok?” She stared at him until he relented with a nod, though his lips were twitching slightly too.

“Ok.” He settled into the couch cushions, taking the pillow Kensi passed his way and shoving it under his neck. “Thanks,” he murmured. “You’re a good partner.”

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #Deeks whump #caring Kensi #pre Densi #OTP drabble challenge #ejzah fanfiction

[echodoesstuff62333]

..Does anybody uhm.. okay so like- my legal guardian doesnt believe I can have mental disorders at all. Literally. Anytime I bring it up she refuses to get me checked out cause "it'll ruinyour life!!". I'm going to therapy Thursday, and school has been so hard recently. I think I'm actually on a lower academic level then what I'm being taught. Either that or theres something else that's causing me to not be able to function properly with school work. I havent been able to understand anything I do and it causes stress, so lately ive.. well I've just not been doing it. If I could, I would. Trust me, one time, a few years back, I stayed up until 12 AM doing homework[I get home at 4:00 pm, though if it was a Wednesday then I would've had 2 hours less to do work]. The only reason I stopped was because I was forced to.

Its just.. nothing makes sense anymore. And I'm so MAD because im.. I'm supposed to be the Golden Student. I have been pretty quiet, and I do my work. I almost ALWAYS get high As. The lowest it gets on average is a B. B as in 2 points away from an A kind of B. But God everything is so hard and I want to scream at myself because I'm so STUPID! It must be ME that's doing something wrong. Right? Every other kid seems to be able to turn in their homework and understand it. But I cant.

I remember, last week. A class of like 12 kids, and the teacher asked how many of us got more than 6 wrong(there were like 8-10 questions), and I raised my hand. I was the only kid. I didnt know how to do the work. And I still dont. I hate the fucking way they do it because that's not what we were taught. We were taught to follow these rules, why are we breaking them? It's so confusing.

I just want someone to sit me down and tell me "It's not your fault, you're disabled, you literally cannot do this." Because I feel so different and it feels like theres some tool I'm missing and i.. I dont know.

#koi catastrophe #vent post #tw vent

[aloysius-scarbo]

English translation for the interview part (only) :

These kids have to be extremely motivated to manage daily training, school, homework, meals, rest time and family. One of the challenges for 3S is to obtain that the young talents can benefit from school arrangements, from primary classes to middle school.

In the meantime, all smiles and in all simplicity, Stéphane takes a moment of his precious time to answer our questions.

How did you decide to create a skating school?

SL : After the Vancouver Olympics Games in 2010, I led several seminars around the world. I had a lot of fun and discovered a new passion: teaching. I had to understand skating from another angle to be able to pass it on. I enjoyed it immensely, hence the desire to have my own school.

Why Champéry ?

SL :There was no Swiss new talent after Sarah Meirer and me. I could have taught all over the world but it turned out that in Champery, Le Palladium offered all the infrastructures we needed to create the school. So I came back home.

Do you like living in the village?

SL : Yes, staying here has become natural, I have a lot of pleasure to live here and to be with the residents. My life in the village and at the Palladium gives me a lot of joy. I am proud to see the skaters and their families in the town stores. Thanks to the school, the skaters have their life here.

How do you choose your students ?

SL : More than a school, we create a team, and it's mainly this approach that appeals to the skaters. Skating is an individual sport: you have to challenge yourself to earn your place. To have colleagues who fight for the same thing is very motivational. I don't choose the best on the circuit, but the athletes who are motivated and able to blend in with our team. The dynamic is strong and beneficial to everyone.

How do you work on this team spirit ?

SL : We all celebrate a birthday and a good result together. The older students organize activities together when they have some time off. We find out on their social medias that they went to the lake together, or skiing, or on a trip to the Defago Gallery. They live alone in Champery, their "real" connection is the team.

Summer Camps students follow each other all year long on social medias, they are happy to get to know each other during the camps. It's nice to see them outside of class, by the pool or enjoying the area.  It's important that they enjoy their youth at the same time, that they unwind while having fun.

Why did you create a specific program for beginners ?

SL : This « Learn to Skate » program was created in 2016. Its purpose is to teach skating to local children, ages 4 to 8. Our coaches have a great sense of how to build the basics of skating for younger children and reduce any apprehensions they may have about the ice. These basics are precious for any type of skating (figure skating, field hockey...). The children who follow this program take the opportunity to have fun at the rink with their friends, as they do on skis. We had to stop the program because of the Covid, but training has now resumed on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. There are still a few places left, so we invite motivated young boys and girls to join us (contact by mail: [email protected]) !

Are any of these kids still skating?

SL : Yes, we have a very good example with Lara Achermann from Champery, she started skating at the age of 6 to join her friends in the village and she really hooked on. She trains in Champery, 15 hours of skating per week, plus the gymnastics lessons. Championne valaisane 2022 (category mini U12), she has very good basics and already participates in national competitions to realize her dream : participate in the Olympic Games!

Your students visit ice rinks around the world, how do they feel about ours?

SL : An ice rink is often located outside a city, a sad and cold place, between four walls. Here, the rink is windowed, we see the chalets, the mountains, it leaves a lasting impression on our students who promote it on social medias. The hashtag #teamchampery, created by the fans, is well known in the figure skating world!

What do you need in terms of infrastructure ?

SL : The multipurpose hall is not enough available for our needs. Between events, conventions, use by local clubs and schools... Availability is limited. The fitness room is small and the floor is too hard to absorb repeated jumps. So we need a dance room that is accessible every day. Part of the funding could be subsidized by a national support for sports facilities.

This would also provide greater access to the rooms for other users of the Palladium. We also wish to create a living space for our students. They currently live in separate flats. A shared living space would make sense.

Stephane adds with a smile that a Japanese restaurant would be a great addition...

#stephane lambiel #stéphane lambiel #figure skating #patinage artistique #skating school of switzerland #teamchampery #Champery #fantaisy on ice #art on ice #ice lgends #skater

[peninkwrites]

Before: Karl and Quackity (don't) Date - Ch 1 of ?

This fic is a part of the Before Times of the Mafia AU. It takes place 5ish years before the events of the main fic and is not necessary to understand the main story, but it is some backstory to Quackity and Karl's relationship.

(CW: mentions of abuse)

crossposted to ao3

Ch 2

Ch 3

Ch 4

Ch 5

Ch 6

Ch 7

Ch 8

Ch 9

Ch 10

Ch 11

Ch 12

Ch 13

Ch 14

Ch 15

The Mafia AU

~

Karl is in trouble.  He feels like this happens to him a lot, especially lately.  It’s not that he’s gotten sloppy, it’s the cops have gotten nosier.  They’ve stopped wearing their uniforms East of the river, which, to be fair is probably practical to prevent more of their boys getting turned to swiss cheese by every gang member with a gun in the area, but it sure is fucking annoying when Karl is just trying to make a living.

So, now he’s sat down gloomily getting booked at the station.

“This is your third offense, Mr. Jacobs.  Next time I don’t think I can just slap you with a fine, alright?”  The Officer handling him tuts him.

“Mhm,” Karl is only half paying attention.  Whatever lesson they're trying to instill is useless.  Karl has to make a living somehow, and he doesn’t really have many other options.  He’ll take another fine– although, he’s worrying this one means he won’t make rent and that means getting kicked out of another apartment, but still, better than not making rent while also working 40 hours at a job that pays dirt– and if next time they try to make him serve time, that’s what, two years for being a repeat offender of some of the most pathetic, nonviolent petty crimes available?  In this city?  They should give him a metal.  He’ll get out in six months, good behavior and all that, six months of free food and housing too.

Could be worse.

“I hope you take this to heart this time, Mr. Jacobs, you seem like a nice enough young man.”

“Aw, thanks, Officer, you’re not too bad yourself,” Karl says with just enough sarcasm to escape the man’s notice.

“Stay here, you know the drill by now.  I have to get some paperwork,” he stands.

“Uh huh, I was thinking of taking a stroll around the station,” Karl says dryly, waving his hand cuffed to the desk.

“Are you really judging me?  Last time you–” He grows almost flustered.  “You went through a window, what’d you expect me to…” He walks away, still grumbling.

Karl taps his foot quickly, bored out of his mind.

“For the last time– you can’t expect me to let you interfere with a police investigation for the sake of what– your end of term thesis?”  Another Officer, Karl guesses a Lieutenant from the stupid uniform and the arrogant walk, enters the bullpen looking annoyed.  He is followed by a shorter man in a suit who looks emphatic.

“Come on, you know me!  I’m not interfering with your investigation, it’s– it’s academic curiosity!”  He grins, charming and handsome and clearly too clever for his own good.  “I’m not a full fledged lawyer, I’m not breaking some oath and you aren’t either!”

The officer standing opposite looks at him doubtfully.  “You always feel like I’m about to make a deal with the devil, d’you know that?”

The lawyer– or almost lawyer– feigns offense, a hand going to his chest.  “I cannot believe you think so little of me– You know how I operate, Lieutenant, I scratch your back, you scratch mine.  Eh?  You do me this tiny favor and let me get a look at those records, and I’ll owe you one,” he leans forward, waggling his eyebrows at him with a cocky smirk.

The officer sighs.  “Look, I won’t promise you anything.  Just– Just sit at my desk and don’t cause any trouble, and I will mention it to my supervisor and see what she says.  That’s my best offer.”

“You are too kind,” he pats the man’s arm before turning on his heels and proceeding to the desk adjacent to the one Karl is currently cuffed to.

Karl leans back in his chair.  “So,” he looks over at the stranger.  “What’re you in for?”

The law student gives him a look, maybe a bit amused.  “Sorry, pal, I am on the other side of the desk today.”

“Oh, really?” Karl frowns, as if confused.  “I guess I assumed it had to be a crime to look that good,” he gives the man a teasing look, clearly far too proud of himself.

The guy gives him at the very least a pity laugh.  “That was worse than terrible, d’you know that?”

“What can I say, comedy didn’t work out, that’s why I had to resort to a life of crime,” Karl sighs dramatically.  “I’m Karl by the way.  I’d shake your hand, but I’m a bit inflexible right now,” Karl pulls on the cuff.

The man seems to be calculating something, his eyes are a warm, deep brown, a hint of mischief there Karl can’t help but find intriguing.  He’s handsome, too, Karl thinks.  That would explain why he wants this person he’s just met to keep looking at him.  “I’m… I’m Q.”  Each word is measured, and Karl knows Q isn’t exactly a typical name, or necessarily a name at all, but if it’s what the guy wants to give right now, he’s fine with that.

“Nice to meet you, Q.  Wish it were under less… y’know, not great circumstances, but what can I say, I’m unlucky,” Karl shrugs.

“Well, I have pretty good luck, I’d say.  Enough to gamble on it,” Q grins.  “What’re you in here for?  Don’t tell me it’s something fucking awful, like assault and battery, or insider trading.”

“Never!  What, you think I’m some kind of monster?” Karl gasps, as if offended.  He shrugs.  “Nah, got caught hawking watches out on 47th.”

“Watches?” Q raises an eyebrow at him.  “Are they legit?”

“Of course.  I am a very serious salesman.  I would never sell a fake,” Karl deadpans.  “Okay, but actually, some of ‘em are real.  A couple I had on me when they picked me up this time were,” Karl stares wistfully at the drawer where he knows all of his hard earned wares are now bagged up as evidence.

“They’re in there?” Q nods to the officer’s desk.

“Yeah.  Can’t reach, obviously,” Karl again gestures to his wrist.

Q glances toward the rest of the bullpen, but those few at their desks are preoccupied and not facing them.  “Okay, I’ll only get the two legit ones, got it?  Any more and you’re bound to get busted.”

“Really?” Karl stares at him.

“Come on, let’s be quick about this, which one’s are legit?” Q quickly slips behind the officer’s desk, opening the drawer Karl had nodded to and pulling out the plastic bag.  “Sweet, we got lucky, he just bagged ‘em, he didn’t take inventory– so which is it?”

Karl sits up excitedly.  “The Montblanc– That was so hard to get, like, you have no idea– and the Gruen.”

Q frowns.  “Okay, so, most people– normal people, not rich dickheads– don’t know this shit, so.  You wanna say it another way?”

Karl laughs, “yeah, fair point.  I mean if you look close you can literally see the names, but I get it we’re on a time crunch, it’s the one with the red and black case and the one with the gold dial and leather strap.”

“Okay, that’s easier,” Q fishes them out of the bag, quickly returning it to the drawer and offering them to Karl.

Karl hesitates, about to accept.  “Keep one of them.  That’s only fair.  You pick.”

“What?” Q frowns, almost wary.  “I’m giving them to you.”

“And I’m paying you back.  I owe you,” Karl pushes.  “They’re nice watches.  If you don’t want it, sell it.”

Q shakes his head.  “I can’t turn up at the house with a new fancy watch.  Too many questions.”

That Karl will grudgingly accept.  He’s quick to stow both of them in a carefully hidden pocket inside the lining of his jacket.

“Okay, you didn’t take the watch, at least let me buy you a drink,” Karl tries again.

Q almost winces, giving Karl a sympathetic look.  “You’re cute, and I would, I’m just–” He hesitates.  “I’m taken.  Sort of.”

Karl doesn’t actually feel that put out.  The guy is cute and charming sure, but he’s also fun to be around.  He doesn’t need to go on a date with him.  “Well, does taken sort of mean you can’t hang out as friends?  I just wanna pay you back, y’know?”

Q still hesitates, and Karl doesn’t really know him well enough to read his expressions, but for a moment there he’d say the guy looked sad.

“Yeah.  You know what, sure.  I’ll… I’ll let you buy me one drink, but that’s all, okay?  I have work I still gotta do, and– and a paper to write, so don’t think we’re getting wasted together, got it?” Q is firm with this, like he expects Karl to push back.

“That’s fine with me, dude,” Karl shrugs.  “I’m not a huge drinker anyway, I’ll probably just get a strawberry daiquiri or something.”

Q laughs.  “A strawberry daiquiri?”

“What?  You’re wasting your time under a prohibition state sneaking away to drink hard liquor?  That’s like, the most boring thing you can do when you’re committing the most common criminal offense in the city,” Karl points out.  “Might as well have fun with it.  The crime part should be enough for you to keep your cool guy points.”

“Right, right.  And when were you planning on buying me that drink?” Q asks, both teasing and challenging him.

“Uh, in about 20 minutes after I sign away my soul to Officer do-better-Mr.-Jacobs,” Karl puts on a mocking voice, like an annoying principal.

“Oh, freedom is within reach, Mr. Jacobs,” Q says as the Officer returns, Q equally distracted by his own endeavors as the Lieutenant comes back for him as well.

Quackity leaves the station and considers just walking away.  This is dangerous.  He doesn’t know this man, he doesn’t know what he knows about him.   The guy doesn’t seem very cautious.  He’d given Quackity his full name, and he hadn’t been lying if he’s to believe the cop dealing with him had the right name written down, and it really seemed he had been there by chance.  Quackity hadn’t told anyone about his run to the station.  And the man had first offered him a watch.  Quackity could’ve just accepted it and the guy wouldn’t have asked to buy him a drink.

He seems to be genuine.  Quackity decides to stay, leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette.

Quackity doesn’t know when he started thinking like this, thinking that someone was out to get him.  He also doesn’t know when he became the sort of person who snuck around behind his partner’s back.  But it’s not a date.  So it’s not sneaking around.

It’s not that he’s unhappy, or that he doesn’t love Schlatt, things have just…

Things have changed.

He feels like when not working on school he’s constantly at Schlatt’s place, and here was the first fucking opportunity he’s had to do something fun, something without Schlatt, in ages.  He always said no when his classmates asked him to come along for drinks, because he’d always assumed Schlatt would want him.  Some nights he did, and some nights he didn’t and Quackity would go back to his shitty student housing and remain there alone.

Karl exits the station as the sun is starting to set and looks almost surprised by the sight of him.  “You’re here,” he smiles.  Quackity is annoyed to find his smile is utterly endearing.

“Uh, yeah, you owe me a drink,” Quackity puts out his cigarette against the bricks.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Karl walks beside him with a skip in his step.  “S-So, I don’t know where you usually get your drinks, but like, there’s this new-ish place my friend has, under her bakery?  It’s–”

“Under a bakery?  Oh, yeah, Secret City,” Quackity nods, frowning.

“How do you know it?” Karl looks at him, surprised.

“I haven’t gone myself, but my…” Quackity mulls it over.  Boss?  Partner?  Boyfriend?   “My boss has… let’s say some investment in the place.”  Since her recent success, Schlatt has delightedly taken a cut of her cash and her supply of booze from Puffy.

“Okay, that’s totally shady,” Karl gives him a look.

Quackity is thinking fast.  Niki has always been cold and aloof whenever he’s gone to her bakery during business hours, downright hostile if he was in the company of Schlatt, but Tubbo has been going over there regularly, he’s avoidant to talk about it, but Quackity can guess he finds the place a bit cozier than home.  And Quackity doubts Niki would snitch to Schlatt considering she loathes the man, but there’s other factors to consider.  She wouldn’t tell him out of concern, but if she held it over Quackity that she could go running off and tell Schlatt, that’s some weighted fucking leverage.

The question remains:  Would Niki do that?

Quackity doesn’t have money, or power beyond what Schlatt gives him.  He can’t do anything for her.  She must know he can’t get Schlatt to ease up on her business any more than she can.  He doesn’t know.  Quackity almost startles himself as his next impulse is he wishes he could ask Tubbo if he can trust her.  Tubbo.  He’s fucking thirteen.  They’ve had maybe ten solo conversations in the past year.

“Q?”

Quackity actually jumps.  “Shit, sorry, I uh–”  Any place has some risk.  At least he knows Niki’s hatred of Schlatt means his supporters are less likely to patron her.  “Yeah, Secret City sounds good.”

“Okay, good,” Karl gives him a smile, already walking close enough that their shoulders are touching and Quackity on instinct buries his hands in his pocket and keeps one hand around his wallet.

“Um, I have a car?  We could drive over,” Quackity offers.  He doesn’t have a car.  Schlatt has many cars and allows Quackity to drive one.

“Oh, yeah sure!” Karl nods.  “I do not have a car,” he laughs lightly.

“What?  Selling watches on the street doesn’t pay?” Quackity feigns surprise.

“Uh, not really.  A lot of stuff to pay for to… to y’know, live.”  Karl whistles at the sight of one of Schatt’s more modest vehicles, which isn’t saying much.  “Aren’t you in law school?  Are your parents lawyers too?”

Quackity winces, “it’s… I got it through my work.  It’s not actually mine.”  He keeps on saying through work.  His boss.  He doesn’t know when that became the case.  It’s not like Schlatt pays him.  It’s not like he does much actual work– he’s a law student, he can’t do much, even if it’s clear Schlatt already has a career plan in mind for him, his primary job being keeping Schlatt out of trouble.  Quackity only called Schlatt his Boss instead of his partner or boyfriend or whatever because he tended to refer to him as the Boss in the company of Schlatt’s other little underlings.  Quackity is at least somewhat aware his position in all this is to be a well behaved and attractive companion to Schlatt.  In exchange, he gets his law school paid for, he gets to drive nice cars, he gets Schlatt’s affection and even a little power over his lackeys.  And that was worth it, he thinks.

“Oh, yeah, fair.  What kind of work?” Karl asks.  It takes one look at Quackity’s face for him to backtrack.  “Right.  None of my business.”

Quackity appreciates that.

He drives up slowly alongside the darkened bakery.

“Trust me, they’re open,” Karl teases.

“Mhm,” Quackity replies dryly, parking in a side street.  “Y’know, you do realize you’re taking a risk by showing me your friend’s speakeasy, right?  What if I was a fucking snitch?”

Karl gives him a look.  “Well, you already stole stuff from a police station for me, and you know if you report the place and we all confirm you were here having drinks too, like.  The cops won’t reward you for being a snitch.  The cops don’t care.  So.  I’m feeling pretty confident because of the whole mutually assured destruction deal.”

“Mutually assured destruction?” Quackity scoffs.  “Damn, you’re prepared, huh?”

He shrugs.  “I mean, if you’ve lived around here for more than a few months, I feel like you should get it.”

Quackity can’t pretend he doesn’t agree.  “Yeah.  Yeah, fair enough.”

Karl heads behind the building and down a narrow set of steps to a back door.  He knocks, three times, a pause, and then once more.  The door opens a hair.  “Sourdough.”

The door opens the rest of the way, and a tall, gangly figure in a mask answers.

“Hey, Ranboo!” Karl steps in past him, Quackity close behind.  He doesn’t recognize the doorman, but he immediately spots Niki Nihachu behind the bar.

“...hi Karl,” the man at the door, Ranboo, is actually not a man but a very tall boy, his voice still the high, cracked uncertainty of being barely a teen, if that.  Ranboo watches Quackity enter, like he knows him.

Quackity immediately feels like there’s a target on his back.  He doesn’t think he’s seen this kid before, but he’s staring at him like that for a reason.  Maybe because Quackity has never been here before?  He knows speakeasies are often much more abrasive to strangers.

Niki is also staring him down, for much more obvious reasons.  Quackity is quickly starting to regret agreeing to come here.  What the fuck was he thinking?  That Niki would welcome him with open arms?  The last time they’d met, Quackity had stayed by Schlatt’s side while he mocked her and his boys emptied her register.

“Hey, Niki!  This is my friend Q–” Karl, if he notices the tension, makes up for it with an unnecessary introduction.  “Q, this is Niki!”

Niki is staring at him, daring him to make the first move.

“Hi, Niki.  Uh.  I won’t stay here long, Karl just wanted to buy me a drink and I…” Quackity doesn’t know how to defend himself.  “That’s all.”  He hopes it doesn’t sound like bargaining to Karl, even if that is most definitely what it is.

Niki glances from Karl to Quackity.  She could ruin this for him right now.  Quackity isn’t even sure what this is.

“Okay, Q,” she says coolly.  “What do you want?”

Quackity doesn’t know why he feels such intense relief.  It can’t be because you like this guy, right, Quackity?  You’re not gonna become the kind of pathetic person to go behind his partner’s back, see other people?

That raises the equally terrifying thought, something he has done his best not to acknowledge, but it means that Quackity would leave Schlatt if he could.  Meaning, he currently can’t, and that is why he is here.  But it’s not a date.  And he doesn’t like this Karl guy.

Then why are you here then?

Quackity ignores his own merciless thoughts, turns to Karl and says, “you’re buying, you pick.”

Karl grins.  “I mean, sure, but you know that means we’re both drinking strawberry daiquiris, right?”

“What makes you think I’d be against a fruity cocktail?” Quackity teases.

Niki glances between the two of them, like she’s puzzling something out.  Quackity can imagine her thoughts jumping to: right, fruity, even if she doesn’t say it aloud.  Quackity looks at her, daring her to say something, and maybe looking a little desperate from the way her expression, for just a moment, shifts to one of pity.  “Alright, coming right up,” she eventually shrugs and reaches for a couple of glasses.

“Uh, can you go light on the rum for me?  I’m driving home,” Quackity says quickly.  Driving, yes.  But also he has no intention of getting any more vulnerable right now.

“Oh, ditto!  Just ‘cause I don’t really like rum, anyway,” Karl nods.

“Got it.”

“And, Niki, can you just put it on my tab?” Karl looks apologetic.  “My pockets are looking a little light right now, just came from the police station.”

Niki gives him a look.  “Really, Karl?  Again?  I’m surprised they’re still just fining you.”

Karl looks sheepish.  “I mean, my charming good looks seems to make them think I’m really a good kid at heart,” he says mockingly.

“Yeah, you’ve got a sweet face.  Of course they fall for it,” Quackity laughs.  He notices Niki glance back over to him, eyebrows raised, and realizes he’s doing something dangerous.

“Aw, you think my face is sweet,” Karl grins, oblivious to the consequences.

“Maybe I’m just trying to butter you up so you’ll buy me another drink,” Quackity tries to keep his tone more focused on banter than flirting but they’re all but one and the same.

“I will, if you want!”

“No, no, no need, Karl,” Quackity is a bit thrown off by Karl’s genuineness.  

“Alright, just saying I would,” Karl shrugs.

Niki returns with their drinks.  “I will put it on your tab.  This time,” she gives Karl a knowing glare.

Quackity briefly wonders if this time means the other guys he’s brought back here and bought drinks, or just in general.

Niki’s stare turns to him.  “Nice to meet you, Q.  You better take care of him, or I’ll kill you,” she says and it almost sounds like she’s kidding, in that protective friend manner, but Quackity knows better.  He nods.

“No, no Niki we’re not on a date,” Karl is actually quick to defend him.  “I literally just said I’d buy him a drink.  He helped me out, got me back some of my best watches in the station.”

“Oh, did he?” Niki is still assessing him in some way.  “Well, have fun on your not-a-date.”  She leaves them to check on her other patrons, and Quackity almost feels embarrassed by Karl’s need to clarify.

“So, what you do for a living is off limits, and I have a feeling asking about your love life might be a touchy subject,” Karl swirls the straw in his drink, resting his chin on his hand, “so what d’you do for fun, Q?”

Quackity almost would have preferred if he’d asked about his job.

“Right now?  Not much.  I’m… I’m in law school, y’know?” Quackity laughs dryly.  He pushes the focus back on Karl immediately.  “What about you, huh?  What’d you do when you’re not selling watches?”

Karl shrugs.  “I mean, this.  Go out, hang out with friends.  I write some.”

“Oh?” Quackity raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, just helps me keep my thoughts in order.  I do like historical stuff, though.”

“Like what?”

Karl mulls over what to tell him.  “Just like, short stories.  Hypothetical history stuff, hypothetical future stuff. I’m not big on the research part, it’s more fun than anything.”  Karl looks at Quackity almost accusingly.  “If you’re gonna laugh, go ahead.  It’s not some nonsense of oh a watch thief who wants to be a writer, it’s just… it’s just fun, y’know?  I mean, you still haven’t told me your hobbies.”

“No, no I’m not judging you, I’m not laughing,” Quackity says quickly.  “I think it’s cool.  Like, really.  Actually cool.  You’re… you’re making something, y’know?  Not many people who can say that.  All I have to write is the most boring papers you’ve ever read in your life.”

“I guess,” Karl stares at his drink, almost unsure of what to do with his genuine support.

“I mean…” Quackity hasn’t thought about this in a long time.  “I played guitar, at one point.  Back in school.  I didn’t have a guitar, I used the school’s, but… I was alright at it.”

“You should pick it up again,” Karl says immediately.  “If you liked it.  And– And if you need a guitar, I can get you one.”

Quackity stares at him, wide-eyed.  “Get me one?”

Karl looks sheepish.  “I, y’know, I have connections.  I could… find you a guitar.”

“Steal one?”

“No.  Well, no, I wouldn’t be the one doing the stealing.”

Quackity shakes his head, exhaling a laugh, staring at the back of the bar.  He doesn’t know what to do with the absurdity of someone so willing to just do something kind for the hell of it, for someone he’d just met.  “Nah… thanks, but… no.  I don’t have time for it.”

Karl falters.  “Okay, well.  If you change your mind.”  Karl scans the bar, grabbing a napkin and a pen from by the register.  “Here’s… here’s my phone number.  If you ever change your mind.”  He slides the napkin across the counter.

Quackity stares at it like it might bite him.  “Thank you, but… there’s no need, alright?  You’ve bought me a drink, you don’t owe me any more than that.”

Karl actually looks crestfallen.  “It’s not… it’s not owe.  I just wanted to…” Karl pauses, still pushing it forward.  “Please just keep it.  You can throw it away when you leave, but just for now, keep it.  In case you change your mind.”

Quackity frowns, before grudgingly, maybe a little skeptically, folding the napkin and shoving it in his pocket.  Quackity has a funny feeling in his chest now.  He needs to get out of here.

“Thanks for the drink, and the company,” he stands, “but I really shouldn’t stay out too late.”  Quackity hesitates.  “You… you have a good night, Karl.  Take care of yourself, alright?”

Karl watches him go.  “Okay.  Uh, you too, Q.”

Quackity realizes he doesn’t want to leave.  He does anyway, his hands buried in his pockets.  He fidgets with the napkin as he heads back down the street and around the corner to his car.  He doesn’t leave immediately, sitting in the driver’s seat.  He rolls down the window furiously, and crumples up the napkin in his pocket, prepared to throw it out the window.

He hesitates.

This is the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.  You remember what happened the last time you liked a boy.  The last time you liked a nice boy, a boy your age, a boy who didn’t have anything on you to keep you there.  He left you.  And now look where you are.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” Quackity mutters.  “Gotta get over yourself… That’s not an option for you anymore,” he tosses the napkin into the street.

He shakes himself, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath, like trying to wake from a dream.  He turns the car on and backs out of the alley.

He stalls.

He’s been with Schlatt almost two years now.  Their anniversary is coming up in less than a week.  And even closer, the one year anniversary of Schlatt hitting him for the first time.

He remembers the exact day– three days before their anniversary– but he doesn’t remember what they’d been arguing about.  Just that he’d been shouting at Schlatt one moment, then staring at him, stunned, with a stinging cheek.  That’s when he should’ve left.  That’s when he should’ve hit back– should’ve done something.

But then Schlatt had kissed him hard and Quackity had stupidly, desperately thought it had been a single moment, a single mistake driven by passion rather than control.  So instead he’d just kissed back until there were other things to distract him from the awful thought that this might be wrong, and that it might be too late for him to get out.

And three days later Schlatt had taken him out to dinner and doted on him and given him flowers and they’d celebrated their one year anniversary with champagne.  And Quackity had continued to try to convince himself that it had just been a mistake.

A mistake repeated.  It wasn’t always like that, and when it was it’s not like Quackity never did anything.  Sometimes he hit back, sometimes he’d storm off for the night or at least threaten to leave, and those efforts had mixed results.  Sometimes it made things worse, other times he got to leave.  He’d always come back in the morning, but at least he had it in him to go home some nights when things got bad.  And sometimes Schlatt would even apologize.  Not always, though.  That weight, that looming threat of one year, might be why he said yes to going with Karl in the first place.  He’d never take that kind of risk normally.

It’s been a year.  Last I checked, it hasn’t gotten any fucking better.

“Fuck,” Quackity parks, getting out of Schlatt’s car and walking back up the alley.  He grabs the crumpled up napkin and returns to the car.  He folds it carefully, tucking it into his wallet behind his ID.  Even if Schlatt were to take some cash, or just see what he had, he wouldn’t check his ID.  Now Quackity leaves.  He still has a fucking paper to write.

#honq #mafia au #my writing #dsmp #c!quackity #quackity #c!Karl

[weird-as-nightmares]

Welcome to ‘Weird Bloody Nightmares I Had’ where I post random nightmares from my dream journal. Every nightmare. For some reason none of them are actually scary, it’s more like watching Scary Movie - people are dying n stuff, but it isn’t actually scary.

On today’s show, we have ‘Nico’s next bots but school edition’ and ‘Jesus christ why did my brain do this’!

1) Running, running, I take a right into a classroom with a few of my friends following. Noah takes out a pen and begins writing on the carpet ‘F protect’ in frantic, scribbly hand writing. Josie grabs a small, turquoise stone from her rucksack and places it next to the writing just as a giant fork monster approaches the door. It reaches in, it’s hands a collection of sporks. It nearly grabs Josie but then it gets thrown backwards, the writing and stone on the floor disappearing. We take a deep breath and sprint out the door. We make it to a spot in the school in between four hallways, a lever in the middle. I slide and pull the lever with the momentum, the concrete scratching at my bare legs. Black, steel doors slam down and old, pen-stained carpet slides out from under them. We all fall to our knees, preparing to write when a monster comes for us. Josie drags a block out of her bag and pushes it next to the lever. It’s grey, made of concrete with a large crack down the middle. “Do you have a paint pen?” she asks. Black pens can stop any monster and paint pens can write on any surface. “Only a white one,” Noah answers. I shake my head. White pen only stops the fork. Josie groans and rummages through her bag and pulls out a whiteboard pen. They’re similar to paint pens, but they have a higher chance of failing. We hear a sloshing, thudding sound coming from one of the doors. Tomato monster. We push the concrete block towards the doors and Josie hands me a whiteboard pen. I start writing ‘T protect’ on the concrete block, then on the carpet. Noah puts his ear up to one of the doors. “It’s coming from this side.” I crawl to the door she’s at and re-write ‘T protect’. Josie throws me a rose-red stone and I jam it into the crack of the concrete block. I drag it as fast as possible to the door, Josie helping me by pushing it. The tomato monster roars on the other side of the door and everyone gets ready at the opposite door. I reach behind me, pull the lever and we all start sprinting. If the writing fails, it’s better to be already running than waiting for the protection. The tomato monster throws itself at the writing, the protection didn’t work. We continue sprinting down the hallway, the other two are a bit further behind me. Stairs. I slow down to hobble down the stairs before jumping from the last three steps and sprinting again. We’re in the lower levels of the school now, the younger students are here. The hallways are built weird to confuse monsters. I continue forward before taking a tight, last-minute right turn. I slip and crawl into a nursery classroom. I slam the door closed while the teacher stares at me, displeased. “Monster-”

“Write the protection spell. The monsters have been excited today so I haven’t had time to re-write it since the last attack.” I scribble some writing on the door ‘M protect’. It’s a general protection spell for classrooms and people who don’t know what monster is chasing them. I wait for a few seconds before running back out and finding my friends in a different, empt classroom. They’re writing the general protection spells at both doors. I stumble into the room.

Then the dream ends.

This lovely entry was written at 6 in the morning and I would like a finished story.

2) I walked into an abandoned, wooden house. As soon as I walked in, the exit was gone and the gaps in the wood were closed. I walked around, things falling over and hearing stuff until I came across Mollie and Professor. We walked around together in this wooden prison for a good hour until we came across something that wasn’t wood or a candle, a concrete staircase. We decided to be horror movie stars and walked down them. We came into a small dungeon-esque room where a man who looked a lot like my head teacher was standing. The stairs disappeared and the man threw an exacto-knife into Molly. She flopped backwards onto a red pool table she was sitting on. He then stabbed the professor to death with a similar blade. I pulled the knife from his hands and pinned him onto a table. I stabbed him in the chest with the blade while screaming that I was sorry and crying because he wouldn’t die and must be in so much pain. His blood was all over my hands. I slit his wrists and dropped the blade. Then he sat up, picked up the blade and grabbed my arms. He said that he couldn’t die and that he found it funny seeing people cry when they had to try to kill him. Then he stabbed me a bunch in the chest and I died with my eyes open, able to see him walk away.

Then I woke up IN THE DREAM STILL, in a fixed version of the abandoned mansion. All my classmates, including Mollie were sat at a long wooden dining table eating breakfast that Professor was serving, head teacher was nowhere to be seen. I assumed it was just a dream until everyone said that they remembered it, even the people that I didn’t see in the dream. Professor was gone by then though. I got up with Mollie and walked down the basement stairs. “I’ll have to ask Professor if he remembers what happened.”

Then the dream ended.

Why would my brain do this to me, that was like a genuinely scary dream.

#nightmares #why did my brain do this #nightmare #horror #short story? #what does this even mean

[metbul]

Covid-19 (02.12-09.12)

Last week was pretty stressful both at school and at home. Besides starting preparing for final exam next year, I'm also doing Edx and German online course. The first week of school was total full of squeezing my brain out, including weekend. The second week was also the same, plus there are two Indo boys just arrived not long ago...I think a month ago. We have same school block. At first I was being nice and trying to be helpful as they live in outskirt Rostock, the train departs only every two hours and I understand how that feels. I don't even understand why our company chose that housing for them.

Not only they have not German number yet, but also no German bank account. Well, they think I might can help them out and start asking some questions related to apartments, school, adjustment, etc.

One of them speaks like a broken stereo. One day he greeted me from the door of my class with high pitch voice in Indonesian. I was shocked und uncomfortable, moreover there are other students in the class. That was the beginning of me showing withdrawn behavior, though I try to be nice and polite. The other boy is still very young, 20ish and complaints pretty much which I understand totally. Later on ke kept chatting me on Whatsapp asking this and that non stop, asking to come by cause he still has many questions. At that time my mind was already full with tests and online course deadlines.

Well...in the end I couldn't hold it anymore and asked Novita to take a night walk. On the following day I started feeling unwell, so I took medicine after having breakfast and felt super sleepy during classes. Soaking myself in the bathtub didn't even help me much, I got out before the dizziness became stronger. In the evening my condition was worse. Headache, fever, sore throat, cough, shivering. I fell asleep at 6 PM and woke up at 4 AM on Friday. At that moment I was wondering if I could make it to the doctor and thank God I did it.

I didn't think much if it was Covid, my doctor recommended to do Antigen test at home and I wasn't even convinced to do that. On Saturday I decided to do Antigen test after Han Han suggested me to do so. Turn out yeaaaaa. I was pretty pissed. All of these 2,5 years I've been trying to be cautious because of my job and now out of the blue during school week I caught Covid-19. Yoooo.

The next few days were pretty awful and exhausting. There were no nights I didn't drink much and going back and forth to toilet and coughing. On Monday I contacted my Hausartz and the nurse sounded confused of what to do. Said she'd call me back in an hour and no call back. I called them back and no answer. 30 minutes later when I decided to go to other clinic which is 30 minutes away and more far, she finally called me and still sounded confused, and suddenly hanged up. I called back again and no answer. Sigh.

When I almost reached the second clinic, the nurse called me again and informed that I could come over and do PCR test. I couldn't complain more and said great. There was no point being mad at her because it's Covid and it's for other people safety, though I was disappointed at first because my two friends shared their experiences and their docs were being helpful. Don't tell me to go see their docs because that's not how German healthcare system works.

Finally the doctor did PCR test on me and I extended my sick certificate. I informed my classmates and they were being nice, my bosses are also being nice and understanding, my colleagues are being helpful, too.

I cannot forget how awful it was exactly a week ago. To be honest I was hesitant to tell my parents but nonetheless they are my family so they must know. I'm glad I was able to go through this shit alone and not losing the smell and taste. Today my Antigen test states negative. Yay!!

[miekasa]

iced tea

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, levi is the best not yet boyfriend au, erwin would definitely be an insufferable project partner to have but you gotta love him au

+ summary: there are three rules of night class. come on time, come prepared, and come with snacks. you forget about rule number three. luckily, levi’s there to save the day.

There’s only one appeal to signing up for a three-hour night class, and it’s that you only ever have to muster up the will to attend once a week. It’s a sacrifice, but it definitely cuts down on the temptation of skipping like you would a normal, one-hour section course. Just one and done.

Plus, you have Erwin with you in this class. Is he a little bit of a professor’s pet and consistently overly chipper every class despite knowing he’s about to endure 180 minutes of lecture? Sure, but at least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Really, it’s not as bad as it sounds, especially if the course is interesting enough, or easy enough, and luckily for you, yours is both. Not to mention, your professor is brilliant, actually entertaining, and does her best to keep the class engaging—she’s funny in the dorky, lovable professor kind of way. And she gives you short, ten to fifteen minute breaks at every hour mark just to make sure everyone doesn’t completely lose their minds.

It’s a commitment, but you’ve grown to actually enjoy it. As long as you follow the three rules of night class: come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with—

“Fuck,” you curse, watching as Erwin pulls out one of his many, tiny, organic, boxed juices. The ones meant for children with soy sensitivities that Erwin claims are packed with more nutrients.

“What’s up?” He questions, more shocked than concerned, at your sudden profanity as he sets his juice box in the right corner of his desk.

You pout. “I forgot to bring snacks.”

Come on time, come with your notes prepared so that you don’t get upstaged by Erwin, and come with snacks. Those were the only three rules of night class, and you’d completely forgotten about the most important one.

“Oh,” Erwin grins, pulling a chocolate bar from his lunch bag and taunting you with it, “Sounds like a you problem.”

You snatch a piece from the top corner, stuffing part of it into your mouth to spite him; but you regret your choices as soon as it melts on your tongue.

“What the fuck—is this mint chocolate?” you complain, swallowing the rest of the sweet with disdain.

“Yes it is,” Erwin huffs, grabbing the remaining stolen bit from between your fingers and popping it into his mouth, “And it is delicious.”

“You’re an actual menace to society.”

Erwin crinkles his nose at you, “A menace to society with snacks for the next three hours.”

His comment makes you groan, albeit a little dramatically, and you slump back in your chair to debate your options. Class doesn’t start for another twelve minutes; you could try and run to the student center quickly to buy some last minute snacks, but the line was probably already lengthy with students of similar trains of thought, meaning you’d be late if you stuck it out, which would leave you violating rules one and three tonight. Erwin makes you sit in the front row with him, and you were not willing to take the late walk of shame with an armful of snacks in tow.

You could wait it out until the first hour break, but they’ll probably be sold out of anything good by then, not to mention the race to beat out the line again. If you played your cards right, you could order food during class and time it so that it was delivered during your break, but that was risky.

Alternatively, you could try and sprint to the concessions stand near the library, but going there and back was so much further away than the student center; you’d probably end up late, too.

“Hey,” you call to Erwin, refraining from rolling your eyes as he sets all six thousand and twenty eight of his colored pens on his desk for the evening, “Is Hange still on campus?”

“No, they have work today.”

You groan. Why did Hange have to be so responsible and good with their time-management skills. They was your last hope. Unless—

“Do you think Levi will bring me Starbucks?”

“Probably,” Erwin shrugs, humming to himself; but then he thinks it over, replying again with a knowing smirk on his face, “Actually, definitely. If he’s still here, but he probably is. You know him.”

You pout, the possibility of Levi being home is high, but so is that of him being cooped up in his favorite library. Either way, he would likely be studying right now, and you’d hate to disturb him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

[sent 6:47pm] you — leeevaaaaaaaaai are you still on campus

[received 6:47pm] leeevaaai — yes — why, what’s wrong

[sent 6:47pm] you — uwu — wanna bring me something from starbucks before class — i have my 3 hour lecture today and i forgot snacks :—( — and erwin won’t share his organic $1500 whole foods gummy bears with me

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — i told you i don’t like the smileys with the noses, they’re ugly — should you even be drinking coffee this late, you’ll be up until the ass crack of dawn

You scoff audibly, and Erwin takes this as an invitation to peep at your screen. Your comment about his snacks does not go unnoticed, as bitterly munches on his (yes, in fact, organic and gluten-free, as if it being mint flavored wasn’t criminal enough) chocolate bar.

[sent 6:48pm] you — that’s RICH coming from you mister

[received 6:48pm] leeevaaai — you’re being awfully rude to someone you expect to buy you a $7 drink

[sent 6:48pm] you — hehe sorry i loooove you leeevaaai — venti iced chai latte — light ice

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — do you think i don’t know your overpriced starbucks order by now

[sent 6:49pm] you — uwu :—)

[received 6:49pm] leeevaaai — but you’re getting a grande, i’m not made of money — and it’s punishment for sending another ugly nose smiley

[sent 6:49pm] you — un-uwu

“I don’t blame him,” Erwin chuckles, scrunching the wrapper from his now finished bar between his fingers.

You flick him away, ignoring the turning heads of your classmates as Erwin’s pens fall in the aftermath. It’s seven o’clock on the dot when your laptop pings loudly with an incoming message from Levi—and a subsequent groan from Erwin, who breeches your personal space once more to press the mute button on your keyboard.

[received 7:00pm] leeevaaai — where are you sitting

[sent 7:00pm] you — front row to the right — erwin’s idea not mine

Levi spots Erwin’s bright blonde hair before he sees you, scoffing to himself as he makes his way to the front of the room; a tray with three Starbucks cups, and a plastic bag in tow. Erwin sees him first, too, waving at him as he crosses from the left side to where the two of you are seated.

“Aw, Levi, you brought me one!” Erwin all but squeaks, reaching for one of the other drinks with grabby hands after you take your iced drink from the tray.

But Levi pulls one hot drink from the tray for himself, and pulls the remaining one out of arm’s reach. “As if,” he grumbles, bringing his own cup to his lips. 

“You’re the best, Levi,” you smile, sticking your tongue out at Erwin. Levi only offers you a small nod as acknowledgement. He extends his left hand now, the plastic bag sliding off his wrist and onto your desk, silently.

Confused, you lean forward, setting your drink down to open the contents of the bag. Inside, there are two granola bars, a bagel, cream cheese, some kind of sandwich, and a small Nutella to-go cup with mini breadsticks attached. When you look back up at Levi, he simply shrugs, sipping on his drink again while a light pink dusts over the tips of his ears. 

“You said you forgot your snacks,” he explains, “I knew you’d text me the whole time, bitching about how Erwin wouldn’t share his zero-calorie lemon rinds if you didn’t have your own.”

You take note that the chai he brought you was, in fact, a venti, and not a grande like he’d threatened, and that the granola bars in the bag are not only your favorite flavor, but from your favorite brand, too; and you find yourself smiling as you decipher the very clear message underneath Levi’s less than poetic words.

“What’s in the other cup?” Erwin asks, pointing at the remaining drink. Levi carefully lifts it from the tray, and sets it down on the other corner of your desk, a safe distance away from your laptop.

“Tea,” he says shortly, “So you don’t lose your mind after inhaling your coffee.”

“This is tea, too. Chai is tea, Levi.”

“Tea without milk or six kilograms of sugar,” Levi corrects you, “Or ice.”

“Iced tea is tea, you know.”

Levi doesn’t respond to that with anything but a glare. You smile at his stoicism. Erwin thinks the whole exchange is kind of weird, and wonders where you possibly get the gall to make fun of his taste in snacks when you can’t even realize you’re in love with a man who refuses to identify iced tea as a valid form of tea. 

“I better go before she starts,” Levi speaks, a single hand referencing to your professor behind him, who looks just about ready to begin class for the evening, “Call me when you’re done, I’ll drive you two home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Erwin and I usually take the b—”

“Brat,” Levi cuts your words short, “Call me when you’re finished. I’ll be in the library.”

You throw daggers at him with your eyes, but your resolve is waning, once again, as you closely read at the implications of Levi’s promise. You accept, and Erwin is more than happy for the free ride.

Levi hums. “And eat the bagel before the Nutella.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m a saint,” Levi deadpans, placing the palm of his hand on the top of your head affectionately, “Call me.”

He walks away before you can debate again, just as your professor speaks into the microphone to grab everyone’s attention. You scrunch your nose, hands flying to your hair to smooth out the aftermath of Levi’s playfulness, before opening your notes for the evening.

“You’re really dense aren’t you?” Erwin asks, one eyebrow raised, but the overall look on his face is more than fond, “It’s kind of cute.”

“Huh?” you question, cheeks stuffed with food as you bite into your bagel, “Dense about what?”

Erwin shakes his head, turning back to laptop with an exasperated expression, the fondness in his eyes fading quickly. “Hopeless,” he mumbles, “The both of you.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #levi fluff #levi smut #erwin x reader #eren x reader

[yourmidnightlover]

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

————————————————————————

you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore​

@spenxerslut​

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

#jtr23 #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #sugar daddy!spencer #spencer smut #spencer reid fluff #professor reid

[harrysgoldenline]

When In Italy Part 6

THIS IS THE LAST PART!!!! Let me know what you think! 

If you like this series/any of my other work and have the means and are intersted in supporting me, you can do so here! No pressure, it is just for those who want to! I am a broke college student and every little bit helps me write more :) I love you all so so so so so so much!

 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Wow.” Harry whispered when he saw you, a shaky hand running his fingers through his hair as his other reached out towards you, extending another bouquet of flowers, “you look… perfect, angel. Absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you, Harry.” You blushed, walking forward and taking the flowers from his hand and bravely pressing a quick kiss on his cheek, squeezing his arm before letting your fingers trail down and wrap around the stems of the flowers, “and thank you for these. I’ll see if I have any vases left, you’ve been spoiling me.” 

Harry was left speechless, watching you move throughout your apartment, thanking god for running into you that day that he did. His heart had been racing all day, knowing how important this night was to your future. Having not seen each other since that night, it was nice to stay in contact as things were slowly coming back together, but he was desperate to see her. Feeling almost as if it were torture knowing she was less than a mile away and not being with, but each time he got a single text back he knew that the pain was worth it. 

He also knows he deserves the test, he needed to prove his love. Prove he was worthy of hers. 

“Can I know where we are going now?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at with him an innocent smile you know almost always makes him crack and you watching him smirk, licking his lips before shaking his head. 

“Not today.” He chucked, lifting his wrist and looking at the time, “but, we can get going? Are you ready, lov- Y/N?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, looking up at him before leading him out the door, locking it behind you both before following him to the elevator and soon out to his car. 

Fingers aching to reach out and grab his hand, to have kissed his lips instead of his cheek, but that’s what this was all about. Starting over in sorts, knowing if you fully dove back in like you almost did a couple weeks ago, it would just lead to deeper insecurities and the last thing you wanted was to go to resent him. 

You thanked him quietly as he opened the passenger door for you, smiling at one another as you glanced up when going to buckle your seatbelt, eyes meeting as he closed your door before running over and getting behind the wheel, engine roaring to life just a few moments later. 

You sat in a comfortable silence, one of Harry’s hand removing from the wheel and ghosting over the exposed skin of your thigh, his fingertips brushing over it before snapping back to the wheel, gripping it so tight that his knuckles turned a ghostly white. 

“Sorry” he shyly spoke, clearing his throat, cheeks turning a soft pink,“habit… and the dress.” 

“It’s okay,” you giggled, looking over at him with a smile, “trust me, this whole going slow and starting over in sorts has been hard for me too.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes widening a bit, eyes bouncing widely between the road and you.

“Yeah” you breathe out, feeling shy under his gaze and glancing at the road, “I mean.. you know… but, it’s good, right? I think this is what we need… or I need at least. Do you think it’s a good thing? Honestly?”

“I would wait an entire lifetime for you, Y/N.”

***

As instructed by Harry around a couple miles back, you had closed your eyes in order to truly finish out the secret on what this date was. Now, you could telling you were slowing down, moving a bit slower as you started taking more turns, the road getting a bit bumpier as you pulled off to the side. 

“Okay, here we are.” He began, “keep your eyes closed, I’m gonna come get you out and guide ya, that alright?”

You nodded, eyes still closed and you giggled softly to yourself as you heard his side of the door open and close before your door opened. You could feel his body press against you, unbuckling your seatbelt before grabbing one of your hands, his other arm wrapping around your waist to assist you blinding coming out of the car.

“There you go, pretty girl,” he softly encouraged, closing the door behind you as you still stood with your eyes closed, “just keep ‘em closed a little longer, alright? Almost there.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, feet shuffling slowly and you gripped his arm a bit tighter as you stumbled over a rock and he quickly mumbled, got you, love under his breath, making sure you don’t fall. 

You walked together for a few moments, before he stopped you, slowly moving away from your body and you could hear him taking a few steps, “Okay, hold give me a second…. And open your eyes.” He softly spoke. 

Fluttering your eyes open, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you. There stood Harry, underneath a beautiful pavilion, fairy lights decorating all around, a picnic blanket laid out among a delicious spread and a bottle of wine. Your mouth fell in shock, your eyes taking in the sight in front of you before making their back over to Harry, holding yet another bouquet of flowers. 

“Harry…” you whispered, frozen in your spot for a moment before rushing over, practically tackling him as you wrapped your arms tight around him. 

He dropped the flowers, the sound of the plastic crunching as they fall on the ground and he scoops you up, legs wrapping around him as you pull each other closer. Your hands came up to his chocolate locks, gripping them tight within your finger tips as he has his arms tight around you waist. 

“Thank you for this…” you whispered into his neck, “It’s beautiful, thank you for putting up with me and dealing with my crazy emotions, you just… make me crazy.” 

“You make me crazy too.” He whispered with a laugh, grabbing your jaw and looking deep into your eyes, “crazy in love.”

You throw your head back laughing, “Okay, Beyonce.” You giggle running your fingers through his hair, wanting desperately to kiss him but holding back, setting your feet back on the ground and shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “should we, um, enjoy this beautiful picnic?” 

He gave you a smile and a nod, sitting down on the ground and holding his hand out for you, assisting you as you sit across from him on the blanket. He silently poured you a glass of wine as you grab a grape off it’s stem, popping into your mouth as you looked across from him. Your fingers brushed as he handed you the glass, gripping the stem before taking a sip, watching him as he poured himself his own glass. 

You both enjoyed some small talk, avoiding the whole will we won’t we relationship talk as you filled each other in on other aspects of your life. Listening intently to Harry talk about his upcoming tour and all of the plans he had for it, all the places he was planning on going.

It felt like old times, laughing and chatting together like old times, like things had never changed.

Now, a couple hours later, you two had transitioned off the pavilion, Harry laying the blanket on the soft grass as you two laid close next to each other, looking up and watching the stars, fingers millimeters apart, just having to barley move your fingers to have them intertwine. 

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I will wait a lifetime.” He whispered and you instantly glance over at him, his jaw sharp as he still was looking up at the sky, but you could see his eyes were glassy, “As long as I have you in my life, that’s all that matters. I… I will wait a lifetime just to kiss you again. I would wait forever and do anything for you.”

“Harry,” you whispered, crawling over slightly to him, hesitantly laying on his chest and looking up at him, “I don’t think I can wait that long…” 

He sat up quickly and you laugh as you stumble a bit but he catches your face in your hands, his eyes bouncing wildly back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Can I…” 

You nod quickly, your lips smashing together in an instant and you crawl into his lap even faster, hands weaving into his hair as his dug into your skin, moaning and breathing hard on one another’s lips. 

“Please” he whispered, kissing down your neck and your lips again quickly before pulling back, staring deep into your eyes, your gaze getting stuck on his swollen pink lips before meeting his eyes again, “I know I don’t deserve it, but please be mine again. I’ll never, ever stop fighting for you, for us. I promise I’ll prove my love for you until I die.

Your hands come up to his face, leaning forward softly and connecting your lips, your finger softly running over the ring you gave him before pulling back, leaning your forehead against his.

“I’m yours.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles headcannon #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles one shot #harry styles love on your #harry styles lot #hslot #harry styles fanfiction

[jungkxook]

—amortentia.

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: hogwarts/harry potter au / enemies-to-lovers + fluff

⟶ words: 5,486

⟶ rating: pg-13

⟶ summary: jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him — until a love potion outs him.

⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of an old fic from my old blog since i know some of you were asking about it! i hope you enjoy!!

Jungkook loves strawberries.

He remembers fondly the warm summers as a child when he would go strawberry picking with his grandmother, and revels in the taste and the memory each time he bites into a fresh berry, the juices coating his tongue in sickly sweetness; he likes the smell of all the lotions and lip balms, candles and fragrances, that carried notes of the red fruit in comforting wafts, remembering distantly a time when his mother’s fruity perfume would breathe warm life into his cold house in the middle of a dull winter; he remembers sentimental times spent at the local cafe near his home, loving and basking in the way the homely and warm aroma of a freshly baked pie and the sugary tartness of strawberry lemonade would fill his nostrils and consume his senses, leaving his mouth watering. 

Jungkook loves everything strawberry but the simple pleasure is always kept hidden, stowed away as if some hideous secret to protect the rumours that had built up around him.

Ask any girl that thought Jeon Jungkook is handsome or any boy that thought Jungkook is a god and they would say he smells like the purest form of any man with a harmonious scent of musk, cedar wood, and oak; like fresh rain that soaked in the middle of a mossy forest, spices, and black coffee — but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Maybe he did smell of musk or wood or rain when he was continuously outside, practicing every moment he had with his Quidditch team, but Jungkook was more than just that. Really, though, it made sense as to why people thought that way about him when he had left such a lingering impression on the school.

You can still remember the very first day you saw him; the very moment you had, from your spot in line in front of the Sorting Hat on the first day as a first year, saw the stoic boy step forward. Made up of a nervous face and obsidian locks that fell into his equally dark eyes, the Hat had instantly deemed the boy a Ravenclaw — and perhaps the house’s reputation was what added to his mystique and strange charm. Even then, from what you observed, he had been a silent boy, making his way to and from classes usually alone, and somehow ignoring the gaggle of girls (from all years and from all houses) that trailed along behind him, giggling and clamouring over how cute he is.

As the months went on, you never witnessed much change in Jungkook safe for the friends he suddenly made in the first half of second year (a surprising mix of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Slytherins) and the smug attitude he began to develop. A rebel, they said, a bad boy at heart, the very antithesis of Ravenclaws. Someone all the girls craved for and all the boys yearned to be. And while you tried to assume that perhaps there was more to the boy than meets the eye — that maybe he was built on different layers you could one day explore — when he begins to become too conceited with the way he is praised, you grow disenchanted by him and his cocky smirks. Yet, for some reason, he finds it necessary to go out of his way to talk to you no matter what — and you were quick to learn to despise him and his constant mocking, all possibilities of trying to get to know him diffused. 

In first year, you had to endure a whole semester worth of Jungkook tugging at your hair when he sat behind you in Charms class. In second year, an unspoken rivalry began in which the two of you would compete to see who could earn the better grades. You can’t quite pinpoint when or where the hatred for one another began, but the irritation that comes as a result of it only grows more adamant with each passing day.  

In third year, you distinctly remember being confined to the many dusty oak shelves and rows of leather bound books in the library, your eyes constantly flickering to the ornate grandfather clock nearby you as you wait alone. An agreed time of 6 pm to meet in the library after dinner to work on a partnered assignment had otherwise vanished from the boy’s memory. Had it been up to you to decide what partner you wanted, you would have much rather preferred to pick one of your friends and not the Ravenclaw who was fifteen minutes late. With the project due in two days, and with the nearly three weeks you had to finish it, you had constantly asked to meet with Jungkook to work on it and each time he had made a different excuse. 

As time crept on and the waning hours of the daylight dwindled to a dull darkness, twenty minutes would pass and it was then that you would grudgingly begin packing your belongings. The wait was not worth the trouble. Yet just as you are standing from your seat, the boy waltzes into view, coming to a nonchalant halt in front of you and placing his bag on the table, as if he didn’t know how late he is. He has abandoned his robe to wear only a grey fleece pullover on top of his white button up, his torn up Converse shoes ruining the uniform outfit with his casual flare. Your stare flickers up to meet his smug face and a frown forms on yours as you spot the other third year Slytherin girl giggling a flirtatious goodbye to the boy who winks in response. Finally, he turns to look at you.

“You’re leaving already?” Jungkook asks. “I just got here.”

“Twenty minutes later, Jeon,” You snap.

The boy quirks a brow, twisting around in his spot to look at the clock. “I could have sworn you said we should meet at six-thirty. I’m ten minutes early.”

“I remember saying six o’clock,” You say. “As well as you telling me that six was perfectly fine. Look, History of Magic isn’t my favourite either but I would appreciate it if you at least put some effort into the class and this project.”

“Shh!”

The hiss that comes from the student studying near you only makes you scowl. You turn around hotly to continue shoving your books and papers into your backpack.

“I was busy,” Jungkook says.

“Busy flirting with every living thing?” You asks.

“What?” Confusion paints his face, and then he is shaking his head furiously. “No!”

Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You point over your shoulder at the same Slytherin girl who is still within the library, standing just a few feet away from the pair of you. She has an opened book in her hands in an attempt to look distracted but her eyes are fixated solely on Jungkook. When she catches Jungkook staring, his gaze lifting over your shoulder, she hurriedly looks away and blushes.

“So I assume she’s just a friend?” You retaliate. “You know what your problem is, Jeon? You never take anything seriously.”

Immediately, Jungkook tenses. His arms snake around to cross in front of his chest.

“Well, you take everything too seriously,” he says. “When was the last time you had some fun? Any time I talk to you, you’re always fussing about the work or about how much you hate me—  it’s like you’re a walking, talking, breathing dementor! You suck the life out of everyone.”

“Shh!”

The snarl this time is much harsher, coming from yet another student who has been devoting his time to writing an essay. But now you can’t be bothered to worry about silence. You slam shut the book in your hand with a very loud thump that seems to echo around the eerily silent room and fling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Well, I’m sorry that I, and this assignment, are such inconveniences to you,” You say, “but from now on I give up on making sure we both don’t fail this class. If you need me, which I assume you won’t, I’ll be in my room, far from you.”

“Excuse me!” The familiar bark of the librarian’s voice hardly makes you jump even as she comes marching down to the two of you. “This is a library, a quiet place to study. It would be greatly appreciated if you could bring your conversation out into the halls.”

Had she not interrupted your conversation with Jungkook, you would have never realized just how loud your voice had risen. Clearing your throat and tightening your grip on your bag and the book, you tear your eyes from Jungkook and stomp defiantly out into the corridors to retreat to your common room, leaving Jungkook alone. He would find you the day after in a sluggish state, his hair dishevelled and his clothes askew as if he had slept in them — or, rather, had not slept at all — showing you all the work he had finished for the assignment the night before.

In fourth year, you are leaving the stands of the Quidditch pitch on a surprisingly warm November evening. Following the slew of students back to the school after a heated game between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor — where the latter team won after a fiery race between the two Seekers for the golden snitch — the eager chatter buzzes in the air. Beside you are your two friends who are, just as many others are doing, whispering excitedly about Jungkook’s role as Seeker and his “amazing performance.” 

“Did you see the way Jungkook played?” Hana asks from the right side of you. “How can someone be so attractive?”

To your left, Nayeon is practically standing on the tip of her toes, desperately craning her neck to search the crowd for the boy and his friends. “Oooh, look! There he is! He’s so sweaty! Imagine his muscles—”

“You’re ridiculous,” You sigh with a disapproving shake of your head.

Despite your condescending tone, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder to follow your friends’ gaze. Laughing in triumph with his team and friends, Jungkook stands adorned in the usual Ravenclaw royal blue Quidditch uniform, the robes somehow accentuating his tanned skin and dark hair that clings to his sweat-covered forehead. Since when had he grown so tall? And maybe Nayeon was right — since when did Jungkook start looking so muscular? 

“Your staring is obvious, Y/N,” Hana says. 

“And so is your crush on him,” Nayeon murmurs. 

“Crush?” You burst out into laughter. “Now that’s funny. I could never have a crush on him!”

“Have a crush on who?”

The familiar voice makes you groan inwardly and the arm that is tossed around your neck almost makes you gag. Your body grows rigid under Jungkook’s touch, though he doesn’t seem to notice that or the way you carefully try to peel his arm off of you but to no avail. Joining him is his typical duo of friends. The other Slytherin boy next to Jungkook is the shy and soft Park Jimin, accompanied by their inseparable Hufflepuff friend, Kim Taehyung. The two boys smirk wolfishly down at your friends, both of whom are so suddenly at a loss for words.

“Evenin’, ladies!” Jimin says. “Enjoy the show?”

“We hate to brag but we taught him everything he knows,” Taehyung says, ruffling Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and swats Taehyung’s hand away. “Maybe the three of you can come down to watch us practice one day.” 

Your friends exchange glances and giggle nervously. 

“We’d love to,” Nayeon smiles.

Your lack of response clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends, nor Jungkook and his friends. As you turn your head to look away from the group, you briefly catch the sudden scent that is Jungkook and your face scrunches. It isn’t so much as gross as it is overpowering. Passed salt and sweat, you can smell something clean like freshly cut grass or some sort of lemongrass shampoo. But instead of telling him out loud what you thought, you pushed him away.

“You smell terrible,” You said. “Go take a shower, Jeon.”

“Always playing hard to get,” Jungkook sighs. “Sorry we can’t all smell like your floraly essence after playing an intense Quidditch game.”

You only hum in response, turning your head to look away from him and his friends. The act seems to earn a smirk from Jungkook and then he and his friends are parting from you, walking back to the locker rooms. After that day, your friends’ profuse pleads and begs for you to come with them one day when the Quidditch teams are practicing would eventually make you cave in. When Jungkook sees you sitting in the stands burrowed in a wool scarf and heavy robes, albeit with a frown on your face and your eyes scanning the pages of a book in your lap, he catches your attention by shouting your name and then winking at you. Seconds later, a Quaffle is thrown his way by a fellow teammate and nearly knocks him off his broom.

In fifth year, you are seated in your Transfiguration class at the back and nearly dozing off as your Professor drones on and on in the early morning about some boring lecture. Jungkook sits in the row opposite you and a seat behind but that doesn’t stop him from constantly trying to catch your attention, whispering your name. It is only when you hear a few classmates near you break out into wondrous awes that you lift your head from its resting place wedged between your folded arms on top of your desk and turn. Soaring above the students’ heads is an enchanted paper bird, its thin wings fluttering its way to you.

You gaze at it for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, before noticing that it is Jungkook who had magicked it, wand in hand as he waves it towards you. As soon as it reaches your table, it floats around your head and lingers in front of your face, beckoning you to take it. Instead, your hands try swatting it away though it doesn’t seem to budge. When you relent and succumb to taking the bird, it is not before you shoot an annoyed glance back at Jungkook. Then, you unwrap the bird in your hand. With thin black ink sprawled out in perfect cursive writing, a single dreadful question is poised in pretty script: Meet me tomorrow at noon at the Three Broomsticks? It’ll be my treat.

“Is that from Jungkook?” Hana asks. She peers over your shoulder from beside you to look down at the paper, her voice incredibly louder than you would have liked. “It is! Is he asking you out? You know, I always knew you liked him. You’re a terrible liar— ”

You gasp. Your hand quickly covers the paper, yanking it out of Hana’s view. “I do not like him!”

“Do too!” Hana laughs. “So, what are you going to say? Huh, who knew Jungkook was so soft and cute? Have I told you how cute the two of you would be together?”

Maybe it’s the way she so suddenly begins to gush over you dating Jungkook, or the way her voice garners the attention of those sitting around you, letting other girls fawn over how cute his simple gesture is, that makes you curdle with embarrassment. But what are you so shy of? You are insistent that you don’t like Jungkook but you were certain that if word spread that you did have feelings for him, your whole life would be drastically ruined. Or maybe you were more fearful of the idea of possibly liking Jungkook in return, even if you had so profusely been lying to everyone and yourself.  

“Stop it!” You hiss. “I would rather kiss the squid in the Black Lake than date him!”

Then, as if to emphasize this apparent hatred, you grab your quill and furiously write in big scratchy letters “NO” before crumpling it in your hand and twisting in your seat. Set on chucking the balled up piece of paper right at Jungkook’s smug face, you are startled when you feel the paper being plucked from your grasp by none other than your Professor. She stands before you with a sour look on her face, a willowy old lady with gray wisps of hair pulled back into a tight bun. 

“Ah, Miss Y/N,” she hums, “if you have more important matters that you seem to want to discuss with Mr. Jeon, surely you can divulge with the rest of the class too.”

Your mouth clamps shut. You watch, stricken with horror, as she unravels the paper in her hands, her glossy eyes skimming its contents from beneath her half-moon spectacles. She purses her lips, and then shifts her gaze to you and then to Jungkook sitting behind you. The silence that follows as she moves towards him is near unbearable, making you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“If you would have much rather preferred to flirt with Miss Y/N than listen to my lecture, feel free to leave my class, Jeon,” Your Professor says. She drops the paper onto his desk with a flourish. “Though, it’d be in your best interest to stop your daydreaming and pay attention to my class because I’m afraid her answer was no.”

Your eyes widen as you twist in your seat to look at your Professor and a startled Jungkook. And, maybe, if you looked hard enough and passed the smug smirk, you could see his conceited stare falter as a look of hurt flashes across his eyes. A few murmurs and giggles break out amongst the students, making your cheeks burn hot and forces you to turn back around and away from Jungkook.

“And I suppose that now neither of you are busy tomorrow, you wouldn’t mind spending it in detention with me,” Your Professor says. Then she was rounding on her heel, marching back to the front of the classroom and restarting her lecture.

After the torturous detention where Jungkook suddenly refuses to look or talk to you after what had happened, and a week after the missed Hogsmeade trip, you would find Jungkook walking the halls, hand-in-hand, with another Ravenclaw girl. As they pass you, seemingly unaware of your lingering presence, you see the girl stop Jungkook and lean forward to kiss him, his own hands resting on her waist and tugging her closer to him. Though you tell yourself you’re free from his constant flirting and mocking, you can’t help but feel somewhat let down as you walk away that day.

In the beginning of sixth year, when all the students had found a moment to themselves and a much needed break from all the sudden stress of homework, you would wind up at a party being held in the Room of Requirements. Though you weren’t quite sure how the students were able to smuggle alcohol into the school, you remember drinking until you are blissfully numb and without a care in the world. Most of the evening had been spent chatting to Nayeon and Hana but when they become distracted with flirting with their crushes, you are left alone. It isn’t much long after that you stumble into Jungkook. Drunkenly dancing to the upbeat thump of music that reverberated around the room, you had, somehow, lost your footing. As you fall into the thick crowd, a pair of strong hands reach out to swiftly catch onto yours arms and hold you up. Jungkook’s surprised when you don’t bother pushing him away and let him help straighten you up. Clearly, you’re much too drunk to function, and he makes sure to hold you at a comfortable distance away from him. Then, there, under the dim lights of the room, you are met with his typical smirk tugging at his luscious pink lips (which you find yourself gazing at for longer than necessary). 

“Ah, if it isn’t Jeon Jungkook,” You rasp. You sway dangerously in his hold and nearly fall to the floor again. He tightens his grip on you and catches you once more before you can slip away. “What do you want from me tonight?”

“Hey, you bumped into me. I’m just being nice and making sure you don’t face-plant the floor.” 

“Yeah, but of course you had to be right beside me. I think I’d rather have face-planted the floor.”

He quirks a brow. He feigns dropping you, momentarily loosening his grip just enough for you to come flailing forward with a yelp of surprise. He doesn’t let you fall too far, though, and catches onto you swiftly once more, hooking his arm around your waist. When you meet his stare with a scowl, he grins. “You were saying?”

“Do you remember that one time you told me I never have fun?” 

“Not really.”

“Ah, well, you say a lot of shit to me,” You say. “But that stuck out the most. You called me a dementor. A dementor. My thirteen year old self never forgot that.”

Jungkook winces at how carefree you seemed to say it, at how you still remembered it three years later. His hands drop from you once you’re steady and he runs his fingers through his locks, softly pushing them up and out of his eyes before they ultimately fall flat against his forehead once more. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he says. “I mean, look at you now. You seem to be having a lot of fun. How drunk are you anyway?”

“It’s not fun when it feels like I’m trying to prove a point to you,” You sigh. “But I already know you don’t care about me.”

“That’s not true,” Jungkook says. “You’re the one who doesn’t care about me.”

You burst out into a fit of mocking laughter and shake your head at him. Swaying forward, almost precariously close to him, you tap the tip of his nose with your finger. “Jeon Jungkook, you can be real oblivious.”

And then you are kissing him, pressing your soft lips to his. He doesn’t push you away, albeit however incredibly surprised he may be. Instead, as he feels your lips move against his, he finds himself basking in everything that is you. All he can smell is your floral perfume and, passed the liquor that stained your lips, could taste your peach lip balm and the bubble gum you had been chewing earlier in the night. He hates how much he loves it. His hands lift to rest on either side of your face and he gently brings you closer to him, his tongue laving at your peach flavoured lower lip. He hears you moan softly in content as you melt against his chest, your fingers suddenly tugging desperately at the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s then that you realize that all you can smell is the scent of freshly cut grass and his lemony shampoo, but all you can taste is something warm and sugary that feels all too comforting.

You come to the conclusion in your drunken mind that you would have loved to keep kissing him. That, maybe, kissing Jeon Jungkook wasn’t so bad. But then just as suddenly as you had kissed him, he is pulling away from you, sending you crashing and burning down from your reverie. With swollen pink lips, wide eyes, and dishevelled hair, Jungkook shakes his head abruptly and mumbles a quiet, “I’m sorry.” 

He flees from your grasp and from the party before you can stop him — and it is in that moment that you began to hate Jungkook, but not more than you hate yourself for actually enjoying the way it felt to kiss someone like him. You would never learn why he had left so soon until much later when he tells you that he didn’t want you to regret anything you did drunk — didn’t want you to regret kissing someone like him when you had seemed to hate him for years prior.

In the second half of sixth year, when you begin to fail Potions, your Professor does what he thinks is best and pairs you with Jungkook, the smartest student in his class. Hearing that Jungkook, of all people, is remarkable at Potions doesn’t come as a surprise. You are quick to learn just why he had been placed into Ravenclaw, carrying their impressive ambition and intelligence. If anything, you are almost jealous of how easily he seems to pick up on things and can reproduce them at top notch quality.

Your friendship with him is still strained and is perhaps even worse than it had once been ever since the night of the party. Neither of you talk about the moment and, from what either of you were concerned, both of you had long since forgotten the night had ever happened. Unbeknownst to you is that when Jungkook sees how cold and distant you become in the days after, he refuses to tell you the truth that the kiss is always on his mind. So, when you are forced to work with him for any assignments or in-class work, most of your conversations end in constant bickering. Miraculously, somehow, your grades do gradually begin to pick up. 

One day, when you both walk into class, you are greeted to the sight of a smoldering cauldron placed neatly on top of your Professor’s desk, a beautiful scent filling the room that seems to be coming specifically from whatever has been brewing. The liquid contents within contains a mother-of-pearl sheen and clear smoke spirals from it in wisps. As soon as everyone is seated at their desks, your Professor steps forward and begins his lecture.

“Good evening, class!” he chirps. “Today we have a very exciting lecture that has to do with what is currently sitting on my desk. Now, can anyone tell me what exactly it is?”

A few shouts of guesses are tossed into the air but all are wrong as your Professor simply shakes his head. Jungkook raises his hand casually and your Professor points enthusiastically at him. 

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“It’s Amortentia,” he says.

“Right you are, my boy!” Your Professor beams. “Five points to Ravenclaw! This is, in fact, Amortentia. Now, for those of you who do not know what it is, that is perhaps all the best. But as it is, it’s important to educate you on the various effects each potion can have on a being and why someone should, or should not, administer it. Amortentia, simply put, is a love potion.”

Gasps of awe and murmurs from certain students circulate the room as your Professor carries on.

“And not just any love potion — the most powerful love potion in the world,” he says. “If anyone were to receive such a potion, it would cause an intense infatuation and obsession on the drinker. However, the potion must be continuously administered to the drinker or else the effects will wear off and the drinker will regain his or her conscience and free will. Now, if you ever wanted to know how to identify Amortentia, you can rely on its very distinct smell. Differing on the person who smells it, it will always morph into the scent of whomever you desire most. For instance, I smell lemon drops, toothpaste, and parchment paper. You may all smell something different.”

A handful of students lean forward in their seat, desperately moving closer to the cauldron and the potion that carried such charming scents. Despite not wanting to show your immediate interest in something as strange as a love potion, you sit back in your seat but inhale a slow, deep breath of air and the scent that makes your heart skip a beat. It would pose as an obstacle to focusing on the lecture as your Professor carried on, though you find you’re not the only one so easily distracted by it. Halfway through the class, he stops his lecture and informs the students of their task for the evening: replicating Amortentia perfectly with the help of the partner sitting next to them.

So, you and Jungkook immediately head to work, beginning the tedious process of preparing ingredients and brewing the potion. Naturally, your own potion brewing goes faster than others as Jungkook seems to know what to do with everything. For the most part, you sit back and watch, as Jungkook refuses your help any time you offer, claiming you would only just slow him down. When it’s done, and the entire class is still halfway through theirs, you fold your arms over your chest and look up at Jungkook, noting the way his eyebrows scrunch together as he peers down at the glistening potion.

“I can’t smell anything,” You say. “Did you even do this right?”

Jungkook grimaces, though his stare falters. He doesn’t admit it aloud, but he worries for a moment that maybe he isn’t as good at Potions as he thought he was. In the next second, he scowls and shoots you a look.

“What kind of question is that?” he asks. “Of course I did it right! I followed everything properly. It even looks perfect.”

“Well, obviously it isn’t perfect if neither of us can smell anything,” You say.

“Well,” Jungkook says, irritated, “maybe if you didn’t bathe yourself in your ridiculous floral perfume, I could smell something.”

“Me?” Your mouth drops open in an appalled gap. “Now it’s my fault? You’re one to talk. Did you have practice this morning? All I can smell is grass and your stupid lemon shampoo or whatever it is. It’s disgusting.”

The bickering continues on between the two of you until you’ve seemingly grabbed the attention of the entire class. Near the very end of the period, it’s Taehyung who finally says something, leaning back in his chair to look at the two of you. 

“Jungkook didn’t have practice this morning,” he says. “He also didn’t shower because he slept in late. Or did you forget that, Jungkook?”

“And Y/N?” Nayeon chimes in from beside you. “Didn’t you run out of your perfume last week?”

Jungkook clamps his mouth shut. Your own heart stops. Suddenly, your face is burning intensely and Jungkook’s own cheeks are pinched a bright red as, slowly, the realization seems to dawn on the both of you. Chuckles emit from your friends as your Professor signals that the time is up. You don’t dare look at Jungkook as your Professor grades each potion, and then anxiously await the chance to dash out the door when your Professor claims yours and Jungkook’s potion was done just perfect. As soon as he moves on to the next pair, you have gathered your belongings and have darted out the room. You are nearly halfway down the corridor when you hear Jungkook calling after you, begging you to stop.

“Y/N! Hey, Y/N! Wait up, please!”

Your feet quicken in pace as you round the corner. Just when you think you’re free, you feel a hand clasp around your wrist and pull you back into a hardened figure. Jungkook. He’s standing so incredibly close to you now, his gaze softening as he looks you once over. You can only avoid his stare, though your eyes fall to the distraction that is his hand clamped around your wrist. 

“I really am not in the mood to talk right now, Jungkook,” You mumble. “Just leave me alone.”

“What else did you smell?” Jungkook asks.

His question makes you stop. It’s what causes you to carefully lift your stare to look at him.

“What?” You stammer. “What does it matter?”

“Just tell me, please,” he says, his grip tightening around your wrist. “I need to know.”

You could have shaken your head at him, pushed him away and walked off, but the longer you stare at him, the faster you begin to cave. Your mind is instantly brought back to just moments ago and the love potion that had filled your senses. As you think about all the lovely things you could smell, you whisper the answer in a sheepish voice:

“Strawberries.”

There is a split moment where all you can see is Jungkook’s beaming grin before he is pulling you toward him for a kiss that nearly sweeps you off your feet. You collapse against his broad chest, your hands flying up to bundle in his shirt and pull at him tightly as he kisses you and kisses you. You wonder why he had done so spontaneously but then it seems to hit you.

All you can smell on Jungkook, all you can taste, is lemon, grass, and strawberries. 

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[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter Three

New School and Friendships

Chapter Summary: Roman has his first day in a new district while some bonds are strengthened.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Warnings: Past abuse mentions, mentions of hidden cameras, anxiety, some bullying, crying, and food mentions

Chapter Word Count: 5,860

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258

“Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?” Roman’s dad turned to face him. Roman felt his whole body start to shake.

“You know how you said that…I could ask for anything from you? Since, uh- since you didn’t know what present to get me last time?”

His dad smiled in a way so normal it was disturbing. “Got an idea?”

“Yeah, uh…I want a canopy bed.”

His dad’s face dropped, and Roman could feel the anxiety and regret bloom through his chest. “You know why I can’t do that, Roman.”

“Please? I know it’s probably a bit much to replace my whole bed frame, but I could make my own canopy for cheaper! I’ve already looked at a bunch of ways online how, I just need you to buy the materials-”

“It’s a no.” Roman’s dad looked angry, and Roman would’ve done anything to run the other direction at that moment. To burst out the door and never come back. “Nice try, Roman, but I’m not stupid. Come back when you have a better idea.”

Roman blinked to fight back the tears. “…I’m sorry.”

“Go back to your room.”

Roman ran up the stairs as fast as he could, wishing more than anything that there was a lock on his door. Instead, Roman took his desk chair and propped it against the knob for some kind of security, curling into the corner of his room as he shook and tugged at his hair.

He tried to block out the knowledge of the security camera on his shelf, hidden well but not well enough, pointed right at his bed.

***

Several fast knocks came onto Roman’s bedroom door, waking him up with a jerk. He groggily pushed open the curtain in front of his head to grab his phone and look at the time. Six o’clock on the dot, it read. Ugh.

The knocking on the door didn’t stop, and Roman whined. “What?” He called out.

“Get dressed, we need to leave the house by 6:30.” He heard Logan call back.

“Fine, fine.” Roman pushed the curtains out of the way and practically rolled out of bed, grabbing the clothes he’d organized for himself the night before. He put on a pair of jeans with a white and red t-shirt, nothing fancy but fancy enough for a first day surrounded by strangers. He grabbed his backpack and put his phone and some earbuds in his pocket before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning, kiddo!” Patton chirped as he made breakfast, “Didja sleep well?”

“Yes, I did.” That was a lie. He had some strange dream where his dad was also there, and he only managed to calm down and fall back asleep an hour ago. He still couldn’t stop thinking about it, even if the dream was hazy now.

“Good to hear! Be ready by 6:30 so I can drive all of you to the school. Then once you get there, you can ask about your schedule at the office.” Patton laid down a plate of bagels with cream cheese and strawberries in front of Roman, so Roman began to eat.

Once he finished his breakfast, Roman rushed back upstairs to style his hair and brush his teeth before they had to leave. As he brushed his teeth, he stared at the shower to the left of him and sighed. He touched his hair, feeling the grease slick onto his fingers.

He really needed to shower. He hadn’t showered since he got here, and with how thick his hair was it was really starting to gross him out. He hated feeling greasy and grimy, but Roman hadn’t checked the bathroom for cameras yet and he refused to shower until he did. Though, he knew that was also just an excuse. Roman also felt too tired to take care of himself.

Just brush your teeth, he thought, they told you that if you can’t shower, at least brush your teeth. Greasy hair can be fixed, cavities are expensive.

He spit out the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He grabbed some face wash and decided to use it as quickly as he could to hold back the gross feeling he felt. It would help him feel a little cleaner, at least. A little more presentable for the first day.

A loud bang came onto the door. “Roman, hurry up!” Virgil called out, “Some of us need to piss!”

“Just a second!” Roman vigorously splashed water on his face and quickly dried it with a towel, rushing out of the bathroom so that Virgil could run in. He sighed again, walking downstairs to wait on the couch until it was time to go.

“Alrighty, everyone got everything?” Patton eventually asked, making Roman crack open the eyes he didn’t even realize he closed. Patton smiled and clapped his hands together when his response was tired hums of agreement. “Perfect! To the car!”

All three kids bunched themselves together in the back of Patton’s car, Roman and Virgil at the window seats while poor Logan was squished in the middle. Roman squeezed his legs together so he could fit his backpack between Logan and himself, acting as a barrier so Logan couldn’t touch him. It was uncomfortable, but it was what Roman had to do.

“So, Roman, are you excited?” Patton asked, making Roman open his eyes again to look at Patton through the rearview mirror. Roman leaned his head against the window.

“More nervous. I’ve never been to a new school before.”

“Well, hopefully you can make lots of friends here! The school is pretty big, so there are certainly lots of options!” Patton laughed at himself and Roman closed his eyes again.

We’ll see about that.

Eventually, after a failed attempt of getting in some extra minutes of sleep before school, Roman felt the car come to a stop. He opened his eyes and looked out the window to see the front of the large school building, kids with smiling faces talking to each other as they walked inside while others looked tired yet excited. Roman wasn’t feeling it.

“Alright, kiddos, have fun!” Patton exclaimed, “Remember to check in with the office for your schedule, Roman!”

All the kids started to pile out of the car, grabbing their bags off the floor to rush inside. Once they were all out, Patton’s car drove away to head for work.

Roman looked at the building as Logan and Virgil walked inside. It seemed huge compared to his old school, where the county was much more rural than here. They still had twenty minutes until school started and kids were already swarming in from multiple entrances, both from the main entrance and other doors connected around the building. Roman walked inside and held his arms close to himself, desperate not to be shoved around by the other students. 

The office was fairly easy to find, considering there was a giant sign over the door in bold, white letters reading Office. Roman opened the door and stepped inside to get in line, feeling a little bit better that he wasn’t the only student having first day issues. The line shrank very quickly until it was Roman’s turn to ask questions, being faced with an old lady who could either be very sweet or the rudest person in the building. Roman could never tell.

“Uh, I’m a new kid at this school, and my guardian told me to come here to get my schedule?” Roman asked.

“Name.” Okay, well, rude it was, then.

“Roman Goldsberry.”

The desk worker didn’t respond, only typed something on her computer and didn’t make eye contact. “Next door to your left of that entrance is the counselor’s office. Your counselor is Mrs. Walters and she’ll call for you shortly.”

“Okay, thank you.” Roman had never scurried out of an office so quickly in his life. So much for a great first impression.

In the other office, Roman sat on a waiting chair and awkwardly glanced at all the college items they had hung up on the walls, waiting until his name would be called. The school day hasn’t even started yet, what’s taking them so long?

Roman drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair and waited. There was a lot of college stuff in this room. Granted, high school’s whole thing was trying to take you to college, his old school was the exact same. And he should really start thinking about that stuff since he’s a sophomore now. He only had two more years left after this, but it’s not like he could go anyway. He wasn’t even supposed to graduate high school, let alone college.

Besides, his dream was stupid anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Roman Goldsberry?” A voice called out, taking Roman out of his thoughts. Roman stood up to follow the counselor into her office.

“I’m Mrs. Walters, and it’s nice to meet you Roman!” She said cheerily as she sat at her desk with Roman sitting right in front of her. “Your schedule was a bit last minute to pull together, but I tried my hardest based on your last school’s transcript and your test scores from last standardized testing. All I need is to schedule some extra electives for you. You have advanced English 12, advanced geometry, advanced biology, and world history. You can also choose Spanish 3 here if you wish to continue that. You also still need your gym credit, so you can take regular PE or strength training. I also have a list of other electives here if you want to look at that.”

“Yeah, I can look.” The counselor handed Roman a paper of all the electives organized by their subject. Well, Roman definitely wanted to continue Spanish, so that choice was easy. Strength training sounded like a fun way to do gym class with less dodgeballs to the face, but it was only a semester long, so he’d need to pick another semester class for the second half of the year. And he could join another painting or drawing class as his last elective, but he’d already taken those at his old school…

Roman gazed at the arts section of the packet, trying to find something he might like. His eyes lit up as he noticed the names of two classes: set design, which was a semester long and sounded magical, and something called sculpture. “What does the sculpture class teach?” Roman asked.

“It’s an art class that teaches you how to sculpt with different things. Like clay, wood, things like that. It’s a very hands-on class if you’re interested.”

Roman smiled. “I want that one then.”

The counselor typed something into her computer. “Have you chosen your other classes?”

“Yes, Spanish 3, set design, and strength training.”

“I’ll put you in strength training for this semester, but next semester you can join the set design class. I’ll email your elective teachers to inform them you’ll be joining their classes, but for now…” The counselor printed off a piece of paper and handed it to Roman. “This is your new schedule. Your first class is English with Ms. Fritz, and her class should be up on the third floor at room 316. Do you think you can make it there?”

“I can, thank you.”

The counselor smiled. “Have a nice first day.”

Roman walked off to head toward his first class, going up two flights of stairs and wandering across half the floor before he finally found his classroom. Thankfully, the halls were full of students desperately trying to locate their classrooms, so Roman didn’t feel as weird. He eventually stumbled upon the correct room number after checking multiple hallways and trying to follow their scattered number system. He looked at the door with a paper rabbit and a book with a phrase reading hop into a good book, and could guess immediately what type of teacher this would be.

Roman pushed open the half-cracked door and stepped inside.

The dozen kids who were already sitting stared at him when he walked in, but quickly resumed their conversations shortly after. Roman glanced at an empty seat off in the middle row near the other end of the class and moved to sit down in it. He looked around at the other kids off in their own worlds, with no one to get excited to see him and strike up a conversation. He was sitting alone in a class where it seemed like no one else was.

Roman got bored quickly with no one to talk to, drumming his fingers on the table and starting to daydream instead.

The long lost princess with the power to see into the future is forced to hide in protected wilderness, Roman thought, picking up from an old story idea he’s had for a while. Can’t have a teen novel without an orphan, so she lives with a guardian healer instead. Then, she needs a trusty companion to not only start her adventures, but to assist her alongside them. Perhaps he could be a peasant boy born with more magic power than the normal peasant has? It sure would be interesting. Or maybe, he’s not a trustworthy companion at all! What if he’s using the princess to promote his own selfish ideals? But as the story goes on, they actually become close friends and he has an intense internal conflict as he turns into the antagonist! Then maybe-

“Alright class, I think it’s been late enough for us to start!” Roman tried not to be aggravated at the teacher for interrupting him. The teacher stood at the front of the class with a wide smile. “I’m Ms. Fritz, but of course I’m sure a lot of you already know that since you had me last year. I teach all grade levels for advanced English, so if you keep down this path you might stick with me until graduation! Now normally, teachers will start their first day with class expectations, maybe a rubric or a supplies list, but I have a better idea! How about we travel across the class and try to get to know each other better? I can pass around a ball, and if you catch the ball, you have to share three fun facts about you!”

A sense of dread filled into Roman after hearing that. He usually didn’t mind games like this since it was a mindless way to pass the time, but he didn’t have any friends to pass him the ball anymore. Was he just going to sit there until the end? Sounded awkward, no thank you.

“I think,” Ms. Fritz said with her hand gripping her chin in thought, “I’m going to start with the new kid.”

Roman perked his head up as all the other kids turned to him. Well, that was unexpected.

Ms. Fritz tossed Roman the ball, and thankfully he caught it without making a fool of himself. The teacher smiled at him encouragingly as he stood up, looking around at all the kids waiting for him to talk. What should I even say?

“Can you say your name first?” Ms. Fritz asked.

“Well…I’m Roman. Uh, I like to paint, I’m half french, and…” Roman tried to think. What else was interesting about him? Something that shared a lot about him as a person?

Quickly, it dawned on him. One idea that I could possibly share, he thought. Well, it’s a bit invasive, but they’re all looking at me. So whatever.

He took a deep breath in. “…I’m a foster kid.”

When Roman admitted that, all the kids seemed to be more interested in him, leaning closer as their eyes widened. It was the first time Roman ever said it aloud, and it was so strange to hear coming from his mouth. He was a foster kid. That was an important part of his identity now.

He didn’t know how he felt about it.

“You’re half french?” Ms. Fritz pulled Roman out of his thoughts with that question. “Do you know any french?”

“I’m fluent.”

“That’s so cool! Can you say something in French for us?”

Roman seemed to think about it. “Quelque chose.”

Ms. Fritz blinked. “Well, I hope it was appropriate to say in a classroom. When did you move here, Roman?”

“Like…four days ago. Very recently.”

“You only got added to my roster last night, so I believe you! How about you pass the ball to another kid now?”

Roman looked around the room awkwardly before making eye contact with a random girl and tossing her the ball. He sat back down and only paid half his attention to what the other kids were saying. Well, at least he didn’t have to wait awkwardly anymore.

The rest of the class went like that. It seemed like a lot of these kids were students that Ms. Fritz had in the past, as well as being students that were also close friends with each other. They talked a lot and made lots of jokes with the teacher, and they seemed really close, which Roman understood since he was the same with his old group of advanced kids. The extra conversation dragged the game out longer than it probably should have been, but Roman didn’t mind. He didn’t want to actually work or anything anyway.

Eventually, the game ended, and the last kid tossed the ball to Ms. Fritz. “Alright,” she said, “That game dragged out longer than I thought it would, but that’s fine! The bells are shorter the first few days anyway. We only have a couple minutes left, so talk amongst yourself if you want, I don’t care. The assembly should be after your fourth bell for the sophomores, so don’t let your teachers forget!”

All the students turned around to talk to the kids around them. Roman simply watched their conversations with no one to talk to himself, realizing how all the new kids at his old school must have felt. It was like looking in from the outside, where no one else could see you. Roman was just…there.

“Hey,” the kid in front of him turned around to face Roman. Roman almost jumped at the sudden attention. “What’s your name again?”

“Oh, Roman. Roman Goldsberry.” Roman turned to sit properly in his seat and leaned in closer. This was a good start! He seems nice, maybe I can make a friend!

“Roman Goldsberry!” He mocked, turning to his other friends to laugh. “That’s such a pretentious name. And very American sounding, by the way. I thought you were French?”

Roman’s shoulders sagged. Nevermind. Eight in the morning on my first day, and apparently I’ve made an enemy before a friend. “I’m half french, not fully french.”

The kid turned to his friends and made a face at them before they all laughed. Roman felt his blood boil.

“So your dad is the American?” The kid asked.

“Yes.” Roman hoped his sharp tone would help them realize not to mess with him.

“Are you close with your dad?”

Roman froze, and the group of kids turned to each other to make faces at each other again. He really didn’t see what was so funny. Who asks a complete stranger a question like that out of the blue?

Before Roman could snap and tell the kid to mind his own damn business, another kid from the other side of the room scoffed. “Mitchell.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

The other kid opened their mouth to retaliate, but a loud and obnoxious bell went off before they could. Kids started to get up to rush to their next class, and Roman joined them. The sooner he got away from Mitchell (who had no right to bully Roman for his name when he was called Mitchell), the better.

Roman rushed out into the hall and hyper focused on the schedule in his hands. World history, room 203. The next floor down.

Roman was so occupied in trying to find a flight of stairs, he didn’t notice the kid trying to catch up to him.

***

The rest of Roman’s day wasn’t half as eventful as his first bell. History class had a chill teacher, which was nice, then next was his strength training class. His teacher was a little confused when he showed up but was happy to have Roman on board. He seemed very strict with his class rules though, and Roman hated that considering one of his rules was they had to change into gym clothes. Which meant Roman had to wear gym shorts.

…Well, guess he’d have to get used to wearing multiple pairs of boxers again.

Besides that, he also got lost on his way to sculpture, so he showed up ten minutes late telling this random teacher he was her student now. At least she didn’t seem bothered. After that, they all went to the sophomore assembly where they were told the school rules and updates, which Roman’s pretty sure he was the only kid who actually listened. Then, after the assembly, Roman went to the cafeteria to eat a lunch that Patton packed him. He hadn’t actually brought a packed lunch to school in years, so the sentiment was…strange.

Not that Roman would complain about an edible lunch, though.

Roman looked around the cafeteria for a place to sit. The place was starting to become crowded as more students got out of line for buying lunch, so Roman needed to find a spot fast. It’d be easier if he made a friend to sit with, but after the morning Mitchell incident, Roman hadn’t cared to try again in his other classes.

That’s when Roman spotted him. A kid with thick glasses eating a fruit cup as he worked on some papers next to him, completely ignoring the world to finish some homework. Roman wasn’t exactly close with his foster brothers, but hey, maybe Logan could prove himself a little useful. He had to be lonely too, right?

Roman took his chance and sat across from Logan. Logan didn’t look up from his papers. “Hey there, nerd!”

Logan glanced an eye toward Roman. He focused back on his work. “Hello.”

“How’s your first day of high school going?”

It took Logan a solid minute before he responded. “It’s going alright. I got unlucky with a teacher of mine, who already gave us a homework packet for the week, so I’m trying to get a head start on it.”

“Really? What teacher?”

“Mr. Owens, he’s the more strict teacher of the two that teach medical technology.”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Medical technology? That’s a class here?”

“Yes. I had to do a lot of things last year to get into it, however. It’s part of the intensive medical learning path. However, the extra work is necessary.”

“…Right. What other classes are you in?”

“Advanced biology, advanced geometry, advanced English, medical tech as I just mentioned, German 2, health, and painting.”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Wait, I thought most of those were sophomore classes?”

“And I took freshman classes my eighth grade year. Your point?”

Roman blinked. “…Fair enough.”

Roman brought out his own sandwich and ate it in awkward silence. Logan seemed so focused on his paper that he wasn’t saying a word, and trying to spark conversation with him when he was like this was next to impossible. He felt like he was intruding by sitting next to Logan, the air feeling thick for a reason Roman couldn’t quite place. Once he finished his sandwich, Roman had enough.

“I think…” Roman said, “I’m going to sit…somewhere else.”

Logan didn’t react. “Alright.”

Roman stood up and awkwardly shuffled to an empty spot at a table on the other side of the cafeteria, placing down his lunch box and trying again. Well, he thought as he opened up a cheese stick wrapper, better get used to being alone, then.

“Hey, excuse me?”

Roman looked up at the voice while he was mid-bite. It was the same kid who scolded Mitchell back in his English class, tired circles under their eyes and a gray sweater on despite it being August. Though, Roman had been freezing in most of his classes today, so maybe this person had the right idea.

“Oh- I’m sorry, were you sitting here?” Roman asked.

“No, you’re fine, I just…” The kid looked side to side anxiously. “…Mind if I sit with you?”

“…Oh! No, I don’t mind at all.”

The kid smiled and set their lunchtray across from Roman. “Thanks. I’m Elliott by the way, they/them pronouns.”

Roman’s brain took a minute to process what they meant. “Uh, hello! I’m Roman…he/him?”

Elliott seemed to get happier when he said that. “Nice to meet you. How’s your first day been so far? Besides for you-know-who this morning.”

Roman laughed. “Well, aside from that uncalled for mess, it’s been quite normal. I got lost a few times, but that’s not new for me. My teachers seem quite alright so far.”

“That’s good to hear. We have a lot of good teachers, I think, unless they teach calculus, then they have some serious issues. But so long as you don’t act like an idiot it’s easy to get past those teachers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind! Hopefully I stay on this hot streak, though.” Roman took out a water bottle from his lunch and started to drink it. “But it’s the students I’m more worried about. They all seem so off on their own. Or just outright rude like that guy this morning.”

Elliott groaned, leaning his head on his hand and slouching. “I’m really sorry about him. He can be a huge jerk for no reason. I think he’s just itching for a fight.”

“You seem to know him quite well. Old friend or something?” Roman asked.

Elliott groaned again. “…He’s my ex.”

“…No offense to your type or anything, but…ew.”

“Oh no, yeah, dating him was definitely an ew,” Elliot sighed. “We broke up like, four times in the span of a year and a half. It was a mess. Eventually, over the summer I broke up with him for good. I think he’s still upset about that and taking it out on the first easy target he finds. That, and he’s a jerk.”

“Well, he’ll soon learn I’m not one to be described as an easy target.” Roman gave a cocky smile and posed.

The bell sounded off again, and all the students stood up from their tables and started to swarm the trash cans and cafeteria exits. Roman and Elliott gave each other a look as they also stood up.

“So…what class do you have next?” Elliott asked nervously.

“Let’s see…” Roman pulled out the schedule from his pocket and looked at it. “Advanced biology with Mr. Weber.”

Elliott’s eyes lit up. “Me too! Uh…wanna walk together then? I can show you where it is.”

Roman smiled. “Of course!”

The two kids headed down the stairs, talking more and laughing long after they sat down in the class and the bell rang. Roman continued to whisper to Elliott during class until the teacher gave them both a warning glance, shutting their mouths but smiling at each other.

Even as Roman tried to pay attention, he felt a weight lift from his chest.

He’d obtained a friend after all!

***

The entire bus drive home, Roman spent it texting Elliott’s number that they’d given him right after biology ended. He talked about his last two classes and listened to Elliott ramble about his bad luck with classmates this year, grinning to himself with his eyes glued to his screen until his stop came. Virgil banged his fist on Roman’s seat to get his attention, making him jump and stand up to get off with Virgil and Logan.

During the walk home, no one said anything. Roman was off in his own world and Virgil just looked tired, with Logan staring intently at his own shoes as he walked. Virgil unlocked the door for them all to come inside, and they all branched off into their different directions. Virgil got a snack from the kitchen while Roman and Logan ran up to their rooms.

Roman spent a lot of his time in his room now that he’d gotten the curtains around his bed. Lying there was a lot softer than hiding on the bathroom floor with his legs propped up, and Roman was still confused as to how he managed to get away with installing this. He’d have to make sure Patton never entered his room again in case he planned to rip the curtains off their hooks.

He’d have to make a plan to effectively keep him out.

But for now, Roman actually needed to talk to Patton as soon as possible. He needed to ask for gym clothes, since that was the only thing Roman still needed to get for class, and he wanted to get it over with so Roman wouldn’t need to keep worrying about it. He was almost certain Patton had come home half an hour ago, but Roman just ignored him and stayed in his room. But he had to take advantage of the fact that he was remembering to ask for the clothes, so there was no time like the present to go find him.

Roman hopped out of bed and exited his room, making his way downstairs to the living room. He figured Patton would be either watching TV or doing something in the kitchen, but when Roman looked around, he didn’t see him anywhere. Virgil was sprawled across the couch on his phone, but no one else was around. Roman put his hands on his hips.

“Where’s Patton?” He asked Virgil.

Virgil didn’t look up. “Upstairs. In his room I think.”

Roman groaned and stomped back upstairs. He hated going into an adult’s room, so he instead opened the door and poked his head in so he wouldn’t have to step inside. But before he could get a word out to Patton, Roman stopped himself.

Patton was sitting on his bed with the lights dimmed, his back resting in the headboard, but what shocked Roman was that Logan was there also. He had his face hidden in Patton’s neck as Patton rubbed his back and played with his hair, holding him tight to his chest while Logan sniffled. Roman had never seen Logan emote before, so watching him cry was…disturbing. Roman wanted to run over and rip Logan from Patton to protect him.

Patton looked at Roman in the doorway and smiled. “You gotta remember to knock before entering, kiddo. What do you need?”

Roman forgot the main reason he came here. “Is Logan okay?”

Patton looked down at Logan and whispered something in his ear. Whatever Patton said, Logan agreed with a quiet nod of his head. Patton rubbed at Logan’s neck in a way that made Roman’s skin crawl as Patton began to speak. “He’ll be okay, kiddo. He’s just a little overwhelmed from school today. Do you need anything?”

Roman took a step inside Patton’s bedroom. It made his whole body shift into fight or flight, but he couldn’t leave Logan alone with him in good conscience. “I just wanted to say I need to buy gym clothes by next Wednesday. I’m in a strength training class this semester.”

Patton smiled. “That’s fine, we can go shopping this weekend.”

Roman looked down at the floor. “Well…I was more thinking, like…I go into the store while you wait in the car.”

Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “I need to buy the clothes, kiddo.”

“You can just give me the money. I’ll stay within the budget and give you any left over, so…please?”

Patton’s face dropped a little, but he didn’t get angry, so Roman considered that a win. “Sure, kiddo. We’ll do that Sunday.”

Even after the conversation seemed to end, Roman still stood near the door, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Patton shifted his eyes between Logan and Roman as if he was analyzing both of their mental states, but Roman’s throat felt stuck as he tried to bring out the words he wanted to say. He was so scared, but he couldn’t force himself to ask the question he knew he needed to ask now. Yet his feet refused to make a run for it out the door despite his fear.

“Do you need something else, kiddo?” Patton lightly prompted. Roman attempted to swallow the rock he felt in his throat.

“Can I…Can I stay with you and Logan?” He hated it, but he had to do it. He didn’t know what Patton would try when Logan was vulnerable.

Patton looked down at Logan, and Logan nodded. Patton turned to smile again. “You can if you want, Logan doesn’t mind.”

Roman carefully walked to the other side of the bed, sitting as far as possible from Patton but keeping his eyes glued to Logan. He knew he wasn’t helping much, not saying a word and not even being close, but it was something Roman had to do. Just because him and Logan weren’t close didn’t mean he’d leave him in danger. Even if Roman felt stuck in his head and couldn’t find the power to move his arms.

Roman sat there for a while, watching Logan’s chest rise as Patton rubbed his back. It felt like ages before Logan’s chest slowed and he fell asleep on top of Patton, somehow not caring at all about being asleep in Patton’s presence. Roman’s heart ached for him. He was too trusting and innocent for his own good.

“I gotta do some chores,” Patton whispered, “So I’m gonna tuck him in and let him nap. Do you still wanna stay with him?”

Roman nodded, not being able to get the words out himself. He felt stuck as Patton lifted Logan up gently, petting his hair to soothe him when he stirred. Roman helped by tugging the covers back from his end of the bed so that Patton could tuck him in and let go of him sooner, his hand on the back of Logan’s leg making Roman anxious. Patton tucked Logan under the covers and watched his reaction. After a few seconds, Patton grabbed a squishy stuffed frog from his bedside table, handing it to Logan who curled around it in his sleep. It’d be cute if Roman wasn’t so worried.

“Tell me if anything happens, okay kiddo?” Patton said right as he was halfway out the bedroom door. Roman nodded, only finally relaxing after Patton left and slowly closed the door. 

Roman immediately ran over to lock it. He didn’t have his security bar, but this would be good enough. Hopefully Patton wouldn’t test anything when he knew Roman would be by Logan’s side.

Despite all of Roman’s worries, Logan slept peacefully on the bed. He didn’t shift or seem distressed at all, just snuggling closer to Patton’s stuffed frog and resting. Logan was calm.

Roman sat on the floor to block the door and watched to make sure no one took that away from him.

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