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dollslayer · 3 years

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Botanical Interest - In Bloom

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x florist!Reader

Summary: Steve comes home to you angry after a rough day at work. He made a promise to keep his work life separate but can he keep it?

W/C: 4,103

Warnings: Angst, mentions of past abuse, smut, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hi there! A part three for our soft mob Steve and his lovely florist. Thank you so much to everyone that has shown interest in my work so far, if you like it please reblog and comment!! You can also check out my other stuff if you haven't yet. Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

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When Steve Rogers had asked you to be his girlfriend you knew there was a weight attached to it. A long talk over a stack of waffles and a couple of beers left Steve with a ‘yes’ and some ground rules.

After the incident in the alleyway you both agreed that he left his work at the door whenever you spent time together. Steve’s profession has made you uneasy since you met him and you two couldn’t avoid it forever.

A month later and you’ve managed to avoid conflict for the most part. Nothing as bold as that day in the alley, just small moments where he’d have to take a phone call, once when he had to cancel your plans for a ‘work incident’. But still he really was trying to keep his work and personal life separate and you appreciated it.

It had bothered you that he had to do those things but it’s not as though your work hadn’t impacted your time together either. Being a florist meant a lot of late nights when you worked events. Wedding season in full swing, every weekend was a busy one for you.

That’s why Monday’s have become almost sacred to you, your one day off a week. You and Steve always spent time together, sometimes you’d go out or stay home and just relax.

This Monday Steve had promised to come over and make you dinner. He’d only ever tried to cook for you once and it had ended with a lasagna burnt so badly you had to open every window in the apartment just to get the charred smell out. You couldn’t wait for him to redeem himself and take him to bed after you both came out of your food comas.

You were cleaning the kitchen when you heard your phone buzz. You had asked Steve if he wanted you to pick up any groceries since you had the day off. Expecting a list you were met with mild disappointment.

Running a little late, doll. 6:30 and not a minute later, I promise. Don’t worry about groceries. I'll get it all taken care of, just enjoy your day off.

You were kinda miffed but at least he gave you a heads up and he was going to get the groceries. You picked your sponge back up and scrubbed away at the counter.

________

Expecting to be let down, you were pleasantly surprised when 6:30 rolled around and your doorbell sounded. You buzzed him up and waited patiently for him at your door.

Steve appeared as he rounded the corner and he looked exhausted, irritated maybe. He carried a lot of tension in his shoulders and his suit jacket was long gone. His tie was undone and his sleeves were rolled up to where you could see well toned forearms. You bit your lip thinking of those arms holding you in place in bed.

Maybe we should just ditch the dinner and skip straight to dessert.

He approached you and you leaned up to give him a kiss.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” You greeted him as you shut the door behind you.

He set the groceries down onto the counter with some force and you winced. Okay so he did have a rough day. Do I ask him about it? I don’t wanna talk about his work but I don’t want him to feel like he can’t talk to me about his day.

He sighed and turned to face you, took his tie off completely and ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about it” he responded as he took a beer out of your fridge.

You were off-put by the abruptness of his answer. Maybe he was just short with you because he didn’t want to talk about work.

You stepped closer and tried to approach him again.

“I-“

“I said don’t worry about it.” Steve snapped, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen, visibly annoyed. “I gotta take this”. He slammed the door to your bathroom shut behind him and left you stunned in the middle of your kitchen.

What just happened? You had never seen him so upset aside from when you caught him mid-punch a month ago with Mr. Andersen.

Realistically you knew it wasn’t you he was mad at but you’d never done well with people when they were mad at you. You were engaged years ago to a man that was abusive towards you. Things had started off well like they always do but he became manipulative and he was quick to anger. You were constantly questioned and criticized. He kept you from seeing your friends, even some of your family. It took your friends coming through for you to get you out of the situation safely. Through lots of therapy and flinging yourself headfirst into your business you’ve come a long way but sometimes you had difficult moments.

It couldn’t be helped as your heart began to quicken and you felt heat come to your face from the embarrassment of being snapped at. Unsure what to do you poured yourself a glass of wine and sat down at your small dining table facing away from the bathroom.

You were trying to get yourself to not shut down in response to his change in mood but it was hard. He’s upset and clearly irritated with me already, he probably just wants to go home. Maybe you should just reschedule. Don’t cry, if you cry you’re gonna make it a whole Thing. Don’t cry. He’s not mad at you specifically and it’s not your fault.

In the torrent of your thoughts you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Steve hadn’t spared you a glance or a word as he started unloading the groceries. Angrily placing a jar of pasta sauce onto your counter with a thud and muttering under his breath. You watched him timidly and took another sip of your wine.

He turned to you and took another swig of his beer.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do?” He challenged.

Not wanting him to be upset with you, you devolved into old ways of over-explaining so you could justify your actions. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the rational part was telling you it’s not your fault he’s angry and you don’t owe an explanation but you were too far gone.

“I, I just, you didn’t do anything you just, um, you just looked upset. I don’t want to make it worse, I’m sorry. I was just looking at you, I didn’t mean to-”

You were cut off in the midst of your nervous rambling by the shrill ring of Steve’s phone. A frustrated growl escaped his mouth.

“I have to take this,” he muttered as he strode back to the bathroom. “I told you not to call me until you had it fixed” you heard him before the closing of the door muffled his anger.

He left you there to stew in your nervousness and self loathing. Five minutes had gone by and the rational part of your brain was slowly taking over. The rational part of your brain was angry. It’s okay for him to have a bad day and not want to talk about it but the way he’s spoken to you and responded to you isn’t warranted. You needed to confront him calmly and if he was still angry you needed to ask him to leave. You can talk to him another time but not while he’s angry. It won’t do anyone any good. Just like you’ve talked about in therapy.

You rehearsed the lines in your head and finished your glass. You heard the door open again and almost threw everything you had been going over in your head out the window. Just breathe. It’s fine, he calmed down so quickly after that time in the alley, he’ll understand.

_____

Steve was angry. With Clint for getting the dates of Pierce’s arrival wrong, with Sam for failing to get the recon they needed to get the drop on him. Even angrier with Bucky for taking all of this out on him when it wasn’t even his fault. But most of all he was angry with himself for letting his work get in the way of your time together. He promised you undivided attention and you deserved it.

He knew how important your day off was to you and after the day he’d been having he couldn’t wait to just come back to you. He just wanted to make some decent spaghetti and melt the worries of his day off with your embrace. He craved the physical comfort he got from you after a long day. The feeling of endlessly sinking into your arms while you held him in bed allowed him to be the vulnerable one for once. He never felt comfortable enough with any of the other women he’d dated to even entertain the idea of being the little spoon.

He always suspected that who he was at work was almost the only reason any of the other women had even gone out with him. Who he was at work was almost a front for the art-loving, touch-starved, hopeless-romantic that he was when he let himself relax. They’d all just wanted this big burly man who was always in charge, a walking wall of muscle and testosterone that they had seen and heard of him to be when he was on the job. But when he was on his own time he just wanted to feel comfort more than anything.

He just wanted to melt into you.

That’s why he was eager to get to you today but the constant calls were cutting him to his last nerve. Bucky was out with Natasha and her parents so he specifically asked not to be called. Being the boss, Bucky was not to be bothered. Being second in command, Steve was.

When he hung up with Clint he exited the bathroom and walked straight past you without a word, knowing you didn’t want to hear about work and talking about it would just make him angrier. He started unloading the grocery bag with maybe a bit more vigor than was necessary.

Remembering he had opened a beer that was probably warm by now he turned to you and grabbed it off the table you were sat at. At this moment he looked up and you had this look on your face he couldn’t quite place. He wanted to know what was up so he asked but you just ended up stammering out a response that didn’t make much sense.

He was trying to listen to you, he really was but he just couldn’t work around this building anger, couldn’t let it go. So of course his phone rings again. And of course he takes it. Excusing himself and locking the bathroom door behind him again he was already forming how to lay into his men on the other line without raising his voice and alarming you too much.

“I told you not to call me unless you had it fixed” he seethed into the receiver. Steve pounded his fist against the porcelain of your sink in aggravation. “I’m not fucking coming down there tonight. I shouldn’t have to be taking fucking phone calls to solve this kinda shit when I’m with my girl. Lose their tail, re-track them, and we’ll deal with the rest in the morning. Don’t call me again unless someone fucking gets shot”, Steve hung up abruptly and took a deep breath.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say to you so he just waited a minute to collect himself. He took another deep breath and readied himself to go back to you.

_________

You were sitting quietly at the table, silently digging your nails into your palm as you tensed your fist. Steve had exited the bathroom and taken a seat across from you. You decided to see if he’d speak first and waited.

A beat of silence and you sighed deeply, readying yourself to talk to him like you’d planned.

“Steve, I understand you’re having a bad day and it’s probably work related. That being said, just because you’re mad at someone else doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me” You blew out a shaky breath, wanting to finish before you lost your nerve and before he interjected. You didn’t dare make eye contact. Only stared at his hands on the table in front of you.

“If- if you’re mad don’t take it out on me, and if you feel like you can’t control that anger I don’t want you around me while you feel that way. If you want to talk through it or just work past it then I’m here. But if you’re going to snap at me again and just be mad then you need to leave. It’s not fair to me.”

I’m pretty sure Dr. Danforth would be fucking proud of me right now. Straight to the point but respectful, just like we talked about. And even if Steve’s mad, you’re in control. You’re doing great.

You braved a peek at his face at this point and he looked stunned himself. He’s probably never been spoken to like that in his life, being the second in command and all. You watched his brows bunch together in what you hoped was thought and not frustration for you and waited for him to speak.

________

Oh. Steve was a little struck by what you’d said. Have I been that bad? She’s shaking like a leaf, of course I must have been that bad. He’d had no idea that he even snapped at you, that’s how wrapped up in his own business and his head he was. He never meant to take it out on you, didn’t even realize he had. Sometimes it was like he was so deep into his work life he couldn’t take himself out of it. But he wanted to try, for you.

He remained silent while he pulled the chair across from you out and took a seat. He looked up to meet your gaze only to find you staring at your hands. You were digging your nails into your palms so he brought one large warm hand to cover yours and brought the other up to your face gently to get you to look at him. You flinched away from him and he felt another strike of surprise, but also maybe a hint of shame. Is she afraid of me? Normally Steve likes when people are afraid of him, makes his job easier, but he’d never want that from you.

“Sweetheart”, Steve’s voice was just above a whisper when you finally looked up at him.

“I’m… sorry, that’s really it I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I didn’t even realize I did.” He apologized.

____________

You could feel your tears subsiding and finally brought yourself to look at him. He looked just as exhausted before, just a little bit more sad. You imagined it was probably easy for him to get swept up in who he was at work so it must be hard to separate himself from it since it requires so much from him. You don’t want him to feel bad for being upset, you just want him to be more aware of himself and to not take things out on you.

“Steve, I know we said you wouldn’t talk about work when we’re together but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me if you have a bad day. Maybe you can keep it vague but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say anything or be yourself, unless of course you don’t want to, I don’t want to force you to talk about anything either. When you snapped at me I just sorta shut down” You explained.

Steve seemed to be processing your words and forming a response when he took your hand in his to stop your nails from ripping into your palms like they often do. He nodded and took a breath.

“You have no idea how much it means to hear that from you, thank you. Just for the record, I never feel like I can’t be myself with you, it’s opposite, really. When I’m with you I get to drop all that bullshit at the door. Girls in the past have just wanted me because I was scary but seeing the way you flinched just now, I don’t ever want you to feel scared of me.” Steve confessed.

Maybe it’s time to tell him about the engagement, let him know where you’re coming from. You blew out a shaky breath and looked away from him again.

“I, um, I’m not scared of you. Years ago I was engaged to a man and things were really bad, he was really bad. I’m not ready to talk about all of it but that’s why I shut down on you when you snapped. I’ve been through a lot of therapy and I’m still working on it, but I’m not afraid of you. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it’s… kind of a sore subject” you admitted.

Steve’s nostrils flared and his grip on your hand tightened a little but you could tell he was trying everything he could to school his features and reply to you.

“I… didn’t know that I’m sorry.” he said as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. “If you ever wanna talk about it more, I’m here. And if you don’t, I understand.”

You stood from your chair and came around behind him to throw your arms around his neck. You kissed his cheek and rested your head against his.

“Thank you for listening and apologizing. I forgive you. And if you wanna talk about your day then I’m here.” You assured him.

Steve turned his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss which you reciprocated. Steve stood to his full height without breaking the kiss and brought his hands up to frame your face. The warmth was comforting again to you. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he elicited the softest of sighs before returning your passion.

He broke the kiss while his hands explored your curves. “I want to make it up to you, will you let me do that, sweetheart?” he asked.

You could only look up at him with eyes blown wide with lust and affection. You nodded and he kissed you swiftly before leading you to your bedroom. You were holding his hand when he let go and softly urged you backwards onto the bed. You obliged and soon he was on top of you laying feather-light kisses to the column of your neck.

Your hands mussed his hair and smoothed out the tension in his shoulders as you held onto him. He kissed his way lower and lifted up the hem of our shirt and kissed his way back up to your breasts. You sat up slightly and took off your top and unhooked your bra, letting it fall before throwing it to the side. Steve took turns taking your nipples between his teeth and teasing them, licking and kissing them. He knew it always made you squirm and would build the anticipation before you could even touch him.

“Steve, please.” You whined.

Wordlessly he kissed and bit his way lower and undid your shorts. You arched your back to help him remove them along with your panties. Steve wasted no time and administered the smallest of licks to your clit. You gasped slightly at the feeling when you felt two fingers prodding your entrance before going in. Your body was getting accustomed to the initial wave of pleasure brought on by Steve’s movement and slowly you ground your hips against his hand and cried out softly.

Normally Steve would never let that fly, he was always so controlling and dominant in bed but tonight was different. Tonight was soft and he was making it up to you, showing his love in a physical way. So he let you push him deeper and raise your hips just so to reach the perfect angle. You felt yourself tighten around him and this is the point he usually slows down just to drag things out but your loud cries only fueled him as he doubled his efforts. With a final cry you came around his fingers, white heat blinding your vision momentarily.

You caught your breath and looked down at Steve. His beard was absolutely drenched and he sucked his fingers clean. You could almost cum again just from the sight of it. He wiped his mouth on a tissue before returning to you to give you a kiss. You tasted yourself on him but you didn’t care, you just wanted his mouth on yours. You felt his erection pressing against your thighs and it had you squirming all over again. You reached to undo his belt when he stopped you.

“This night is supposed to be about you, doll. I’ll be fine” He protested.

You shook your head at him. “I want you, all of you. Please, Steve”, you begged.

He nodded and undid his belt. You helped undress and when he was finally naked you felt the rush of heat to your core all over again, an itch you couldn’t scratch. You laid back further on the bed and soon he was above you, face inches from yours and one arm at the side of your head.

His cock nudged against your core and entered slowly to stretch you out. You moaned deeply and when he was all the way in he kissed you passionately and began moving. It didn’t take much for him to pick up the pace as he started to fuck you. He swore under his breath at the feeling of you.

“You’re so, so, good sweetheart. So fuckin’ good.” He praised.

His words made you keen as you let the feeling of him making love to you take you over completely. His lips grazed yours in between grunts and he moved one hand to your clit while the other cradled the back of your head. You held onto his shoulders tightly and sobbed out pleas for him to keep going. His thrusts picked up speed and so did his hand. You were so close to the edge and you could feel he was too.

“I love you” he panted out before his hips lunged forward into you one last time before he came inside of you.

The shock of his confession and his work on your clit triggered your second orgasm. It was powerful and had you clawing his back and gasping in pleasure. He’d never said that before. Did he mean it? You looked to him for the answer but his lips caught yours as he gave a few last lazy thrusts. He finally collapsed to your side and was heaving to catch his breath.

You both laid there basking in the afterglow of the makeup sex for a few minutes. You turned on your side to look at him. He was so perfect like this, so at ease.

“Did you.. Mean it? What you said?” You questioned nervously. You really wanted him to mean it.

He turned slowly to look at you and he was blushing. “Yeah, I did. I know it’s kind of soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I couldn’t help it. I love you” he confided.

“I love you too, I’m not just saying it cause I feel like I have to, I love you Steve Rogers. All of you.” you assured him.

The softest of kisses was laid on your lips. This moment with him was perfect.

“I can’t believe you love me. I’m so sorry about earlier. I feel so comforted when I’m with you, the last thing I want is to lose you. I promise I will do everything I can to never be like your ex. Ever. If I’m being a dick I want you to tell me,” He apologized again.

You were about to respond when his stomach let out the loudest groan. You both laughed as you sat up.

“I did promise you dinner. Unburned this time!” Steve pledged as he helped you gather up your clothes.

“That’s a promise I’m going to hold you to, Rogers.”

#steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #Mob!Au #mafia!au #soft!Mob!Steve Rogers #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #botanical interest

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kookingtae · 4 years

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the equation of love (pt. 10)

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt. 10

professor yoongi x uni student reader

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→word count: 10.5k

→a/n: alternatively: fuck it, it’s been five years and this wip has been staring at me for three of them, so im just gonna post it. i have not read this over since 2018, so pls dont judge me too harshly hhsdg it’s unedited and probably a bit cringy, but then again what ch of teol isnt? this is NOT all that i have planned for the series, but i figured something is better than nothing, right? and perhaps the saying better later than never applies here, too. maybe one day i’ll finally get around to finishing it (by then im sure no one will even be around to remember what teol is lmao) but until then, enjoy what ive been sitting on! and as always, if you’re still here, thank you for your endless patience and support with this series <3

→another a/n: after this will probably be an epilogue!

→tw: mentions of blackmail, r*pe and sexual assault (we mostly just get closure on the whole professor lee & jun situation!!)

→warning: this chapter is not a happy ending, but it’s not necessarily a BAD one either, so for those who don’t like to finish on an unhappy note, it’s up to you on whether you’d like to read it or wait for the epilogue to be posted!

Running water.

It was such a simple yet fascinating concept—atoms and molecules coming together to form the only substance on earth that has a natural state in all forms, while having the power to kill in three different ways. Solid, by hypothermia; liquid, by drowning; gas, by suffocation. This substance can take three different forms, yet it's most commonly a liquid, covering nearly 71% of the world with translucent bodies of water. Oceans, ponds, lakes—though the most enchanting of them all were rivers. They were always moving, crashing beyond rocks and bustling with the flow of the current and gravitational pull of the earth. Rivers were passionate, and strong, and no matter how hard one tried they couldn't break the whipping tide that was pushing against them. Nothing could cause the powerful force to falter.

But, like most things, even rivers must come to an end. The current stops flowing, and the waves stop breaking around the jagged rocks, and the powerful force that seemed it would never end dulls to a still, calm lull, as if the river was nothing more than a brief yet raging storm. All the passion, all the fight—over in a blink of an eye, left to dissipate into the mysteries of the vast ocean.

Staring down at the picture on the cell phone screen in front of me was like getting pulled by the current of a river; down, down, down I flowed until there was no river left around me and I was left stranded in the middle of the sea. Yoongi and I were once raging, and passionate, and ready to fight against anyone who tried to tear us down, but now the fight was over. We had been dragged too far, fading into a body of water that was not our own. This was bigger than us.

Yes, like the flow of a river, all things must come to an end.

"That's it," Yoongi gritted his teeth, and I felt the dip of the mattress beneath me as he rose to his feet in anger.

"Yoongi," I called his name in a warning tone, warily standing up from the bed and watching him move around the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm over it," he said, hastily throwing the first articles of clothing he could grab from his drawers over his body. "I'm done dealing with all of this, Y/N! I'm going up to the school."

Despite the flare of determination that sparked in my heart at his words, his rage seeming to radiate off of him and onto me as well, I couldn't help the trepidation that I was also filled with; Yoongi didn't have a history of making rational decisions out of anger.

"Don't you think you should calm down first?" I offered, trying my best to match his pace around the room.

"No!" Yoongi suddenly skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wild and crazed. "I'm going to find her and I'm going to fucking kill her!"

I could only stand with a gaping mouth and watch as he stormed out of the room, leaving me with no choice but to pull on my old clothes and chase his stomping foot steps. He grabbed his keys before storming out of the apartment, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot. I tried to ignore the blindingly bright sunlight as I squinted my eyes and continued after him.

"Follow me up to the school," Yoongi barked as he hopped into his car.

"Yoongi–" I started, but my consoling voice was cut off by the slam of his door. I frowned, scrambling to unlock my vehicle as his engine roared to life.

The drive to the university was a nerve-wracking one. I kept a watchful eye on Yoongi to make sure he wasn't speeding or swerving all over the road; they say you're not supposed to operate a vehicle while you're upset. Though it would seem my efforts were futile, because he did in fact speed and swerve, and all I could do was frown and try to keep up.

It wasn't that I wasn't angered by Professor Lee; I was furious, rage and disgust and frustration all stewing inside of me like a pot of water that was ready to boil over. But I just couldn't help but worry for Yoongi. I had always been the non-confrontational type, always hoping that with a little time things would get better if they were ignored long enough. But it would seem that my method was proven inefficient today, because as much as I had tried to ignore her antics, that wicked woman wouldn't stop at anything to make sure Yoongi and I were properly dragged through the mud and going down like a ship engulfed in flames. Yet as much as that angered me, I couldn't bare the thought of the turmoil it was causing Yoongi. I didn't know when I had started casting my own feelings aside and putting his above—it was a gradual thing rather than one, defining moment—but it was only another factor that proved how much I actually loved this man. And that very thought instilled a fear that shook me to the very bone.

We had a lot more to lose now than just his job and my education. We could be losing us. And that was more important now than it had ever been before.

Once we arrived at the university there were a lot of screeching brakes, messy parking and fumbling hands as I scrambled to catch up to his looming figure that seemed to stalk towards the building at an unnatural pace. The pounding of my heavy heartbeat was what drove me forward, anxiety rising with each quickened step that I took.

"Yoongi!" I yelled once I had lessened the distance between us, now dead center on the campus sidewalk. "Yoongi, wait!"

All of a sudden he whirled around, his abrupt halt causing me to crash straight into his chest. I let out a yelp in surprise, eyes wide and ready to interrogate him, before I felt the smooth curvature of his palms on either side of my face as he tilted my head up to his and slammed his mouth onto mine.

The world stopped spinning for a moment, everything around me fading into the motions of his plush skin, his soft lips exploding with flavor and spilling over my tastebuds, satisfying my thirst in a way that no water ever could. I didn't even question it for a second before I was melting into him, quite literally becoming putty in his hands as the rest of the world instantaneously escaped my mind.

It's funny the way that worked—the way he was able to completely erase everything that had once existed in the blink of an eye, just by his simple touch. Whether it was magic, or I was just that fucking whipped, I didn't know. But either way, I didn't possess the power to stop it even if I wanted to.

When Yoongi finally broke away, he was breathing heavily, his breath fanning across my face in cool puffs of air. "I don't care what anyone thinks anymore," he spoke onto my lips, his forehead pressing against mine with a firm force. "Let them see. The only thing I care about is you."

It was then that I was suddenly aware of our surroundings, the reality of our world crashing down around me as I glanced around at all the eyes watching us. It varied; there were those choosing to spare us a glance as they walked to and from their classes, those who stalled their current actions to lift their heads to us not once, not twice, but three times, and then there were those who stopped altogether, their widened eyes and slackened jaws dead giveaways that they knew exactly who Yoongi was: Professor Min, Algebra 101 instructor.

A stroke of his thumb across my cheek brought my attention back to him; I stared up into his eyes, the desperate look in them captivating me and making it impossible to look away. His chest was rising and falling beneath his shirt, his fingers were grappling at my face as he brushed my wisps of hair out of the way, silently begging me to understand, to agree with him.

And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.

My lungs were filled with a breath of newfound determination, dazed and driven by Yoongi's words and embrace. "I love you," I spoke with conviction, caressing the nape of his neck as if to give him more reassurance. "Let's go.”

With that I grabbed his hand, holding my head high for the rest of the campus to see as I started up Yoongi's stride towards the school's building. He was right beside me, weaving his fingers through mine and giving my hand an extra squeeze as if to say that he was here, that he was proud to let the world know that I was his and he was mine, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

We were going to take down Professor Lee.

The seminar room was empty of students when we stormed in. Seats were placed throughout the floor, papers were scattered on the desks, and Professor Lee was at the front of the room, fiddling with the cords from the projector screen.

At the sound of the door opening, her head snapped up. "Well well well, look what we have here," she smirked when she saw us, making no plans to move as she saw me marching over to her. "You know, I really don't think–"

Slap!

The impact of my palm to her face cut off her words, skin on skin contact crackling through the room and echoing into a deafening silence.

Professor Lee gasped, immediately grasping where a red mark was now forming on her cheek before looking up at me with wild eyes. "You just slapped me!" She cried in disbelief.

"You're damn right I did," I gritted my teeth, taking a threatening step towards her and raising my palm. "Want me to do it again?"

It was then that I felt Yoongi's hand on my back, the feeling having an instant calming effect over my senses whether he wanted it to or not. I sighed before visibly relaxing and lowering my hand.

"You're barbaric!" Professor Lee was foaming at the mouth, still holding her face with a slack jaw. "Are you forgetting that I'm a professor? When Dr. Kim finds out about this, I swear he'll–"

"Tell him!" I roared as loud as my vocal chords would let me. "Tell whoever, tell the whole world, I don't fucking care! I'm done with your bullshit, you selfish psychotic witch!"

With that I gave her one final shove against her shoulders, and when both of her hands flew out to grab ahold her surroundings in an effort to keep from falling over, I planted another slap right across her face. The impact stung my hand, but I didn't care. Seeing Professor Lee stumble through the air was worth it.

"Baby," Yoongi spoke in a gentle yet warning tone next to me, and I had almost forgotten he was there until I felt his grip slightly tighten around my waist. It was a comforting hold, as if to say he completely trusted and supported whatever I chose to do in this situation, but still a protective hold nonetheless. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get myself hurt.

"You know, what is your problem, exactly?" I tilted my head at her as she struggled to get her bearings straight. "Is there an actual reason you're doing all of this, or are you just mentally insane?"

"It–it's not right!" Professor Lee stuttered with wide eyes, raising a shaky finger to point at me and Yoongi. "Your relationship, it's–"

"Oh cut the bullshit, Sara," Yoongi let out a sound of disgust from beside me. "We all know that's not why."

"I... I..." she stumbled for words, wide eyes glancing back and forth between the two of us. "Who do you guys think you are? You can't just storm in here and start attacking me–"

I took a menacing step forward, pure rage making up for what I lacked in intimidation. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I fumed, reaching out to grab her again.

"No, please!" She suddenly cowered before I could get to her, shielding her head away from me with her arms. "I—Yoongi, I'm in love with you!"

Her confession sent me reeling backwards in a downwards spiral, my body instantly going limp as I watched her with a dumbfounded expression. A vast silence echoed throughout the room that could be cut with a knife before she finally spoke again.

"Ever since you started working here, I knew you were the one. I just knew it." Her voice was sad, exhausted now, and a look of defeat washed over her features.

"What?" Yoongi gaped in disbelief. "Sara, that was two years ago!"

"I know!" She spat harshly. "You don't think I know that? For two years, I had to deal with this silly crush I had on you. I had to spend every day with you, watching it bloom into love overtime, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"You could've just told me!" Yoongi exclaimed as if that was the obvious answer.

Professor Lee snorted humorlessly. "Yeah, and be made a fool of? No thanks." She lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Sara, we're grown adults. You could've acted like one and fucking said something to me about it, made a move, anything but drag my career under the bus!" Yoongi's voice was strained now, his eyes wide as if silently begging her to understand him while he was equally trying to understand her.

"I was going to!" She lashed out again while whipping her head up towards him. "I was working up the courage to ask you out on a date, and then I see that fucking slut on your lap and I–"

"Don't you dare call Y/N that," Yoongi suddenly growled, pushing past me and stepping towards her intimidatingly. "One more thing out of your mouth about her and I swear to god I will kill you right here, right now."

My breath hitched in my throat at his threat and I couldn't help but weave my arm around his to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers and squeezing tightly. He gripped mine back even tighter, as if he was desperately trying to latch onto whatever calming effect I seemed to have over him.

Professor Lee swallowed, choosing to stay silent and watch him carefully as jagged breaths rose and fell from her chest. "The point is," she continued on, "I saw you with someone else—someone who wasn't me. And that completely tore my heart to shreds."

"So the only solution is to ruin our lives," I chimed in sarcastically.

"I may not have gone about it the best way," she quickly gritted her teeth and shot me a glare before turning her attention back to Yoongi, "but I had to act on instinct. I still wanted to be with you, so I figured that maybe if I split the two of you up, you would have no one else to turn to but me."

Yoongi just stared at her, his face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Do you know how sick and twisted that is?" He asked.

"All I ever wanted was to be with you, Yoongi," she pleaded, her tone vulnerable now as she took a tentative step towards him and started to raise her hand up to caress his cheek. "I still do. It's not too late; we can leave now, just you and me and forget this whole thing–"

"Don't fucking touch me," he knocked her hand away with his forearm just before it could reach his face. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're even crazier than I thought." He then stepped back to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me securely into his side. "I'm in love with Y/N, and I don't give a shit what rumors you or anyone else wants to spread about it. You're fucking pathetic."

At that moment there was the sound of a door bursting open, causing the three of us to turn our attention to the entrance of the room. There, standing in the doorway, was Dr. Kim.

The sight of him immediately deflated the elation I was feeling from Yoongi's words, instantly replacing them with a sense of anxiety and fear that lodged its way into my throat until I was sure I would die from suffocation. This was it; according to the text from Professor Lee, he had already seen the picture of me and Yoongi kissing. This was the moment that would decide our future forever.

I just hoped we had enough evidence against Professor Lee for him to take our side.

"So let me get this straight." Dr. Kim folded his hands on the dark oak wood of his office desk. "Professor Min and Y/N had relations before Y/N became a student here, while Yoongi was unaware of her age?"

"Yes sir," Yoongi nodded his head in assurance.

"And then you continued your relationship, even after finding out that she was your student."

"He didn't at first," I interjected in hopes of getting some of the heat off of Yoongi. "He tried to call it off, but I kept pushing it. The reason we got back together during school was my fault, not his."

Yoongi's eyes met mine from the chair next to me, his gaze seeming to hold the words that silently spoke that's not true, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. In actuality, he had been the one to give me after-school tutoring on that Saturday during the homecoming football game, not I. He had been the one to kiss me first that day. But there was no way in hell I would ever tell that to the dean.

"I don't care whose fault it is; all that matters is that it happened," Dr. Kim frowned. "And it's still happening if I'm not mistaken, correct?"

"I... um," my eyes flickered to Yoongi, every fiber of my being starting to fill with panic. Shit, we should've discussed this beforehand. I wasn't going to willingly rat Yoongi out, no matter how many times he's said he didn't care anymore if people knew about us.

Suddenly I felt the warm, soft sensation of skin wrapping around the curvature of my hand that was resting atop the wooden armrest. "Yes, it's still happening," Yoongi spoke, and then his fingers were intertwining with mine.

I practically choked on my own spit at his words; did this boy have a death wish? A cough came sputtering out of my lungs, the sound causing everyone in the room to look at me until I'd settled down. Even Professor Lee leaned forward from her seat on the other side of Yoongi, bewilderment written all over her expression as she gave me a look of disgust.

"Well there's your proof right there." She threw her hands up in defeat before gesturing to the two of us. "What more do you need? Expel them, Dr. Kim."

"B–but that's not it!" I suddenly exclaimed and lurched forward, feeling the heat of everyone's stare on our embraced hands, which in turn only made me grip him even harder for support. "Dr. Kim, you have to believe me when I tell you that Professor Lee has worked hard to make my life a living hell ever since I got to this school. She had a vendetta against me; she's in love with Yoongi, and so she–"

"That's not true!" Professor Lee screeched.

"She worked to turn people against us rather than coming to you because she wanted to blackmail Yoongi into being with her," I ignored her interjection and continued. "She even made a seminar about it—the mandatory seminar that everyone attended today!"

The dean turned his attention towards her. "The seminar about the importance of practicing safe sex?" He questioned in bewilderment.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words; that's what she was telling everyone it was about?

"It was!" She scrambled in defense. "I mean I... I may have brought up Yoongi and Y/N as an example, but that's only because they fit the part! Y/N had a pregnancy scare not too long ago, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to our students!"

I felt the color draining from my face, blanching it a stone cold white and decimating any feeling I had left in my body.

How the fuck did she know about the pregnancy?

My head instantly whipped towards Yoongi to see if he had any logical explanation for this, and his face was as poised and stoic as ever in front of his two colleagues—but I could see through it. I knew him well enough to catch onto the slightest falter in his blinking, the increase in heat that collected between our palms, the small twitch of his mouth that would've gone unnoticed by anyone else who observed him. I knew there was no way he could've told Professor Lee about the pregnancy, because he was just as blindsided as I was.

Dr. Kim simply raised his eyebrows in interest before turning back to Yoongi and me.

"Dr. Kim," Yoongi spoke, his voice dripping with amusement, "I mean no disrespect, but do you honestly think that if Y/N had a pregnancy scare, we would tell Sara about it? Come on; not after all she did to us."

"They—they didn't tell me!" Professor Lee huffed out a desperate breath. "I overheard them while I was–"

"While you were what?" I interrupted with a raise of my eyebrow. "While you were spying on us to find any blackmail you could use on Yoongi?"

"N–no!" She stuttered, though at this point it was obvious that she was making up lies on the spot. "While I was walking past the classroom!"

"Why would we be talking about that with the door open?!"

"Enough!" Dr. Kim barked, his deep voice rumbling throughout the small office. We all grew silent as we turned our attention to him. "There will be no arguing of he said/she said in my office," he scolded, then turned his attention to Yoongi before speaking. "I understand that there was someone you wanted me to see?"

Yoongi, who had remained calm during all of this, simply nodded his head before releasing my hand. "Yes, sir," he said as he stood up and walked towards the door.

My eyebrows were knitted in confusion as I watched it all transpire: the words exchanged between the two men, Yoongi rising out of his seat, the sight of my biology professor being revealed behind the closed door. The whole thing came as a surprise to me, and my emotions seemed to be having a war between the shock and relief that I felt raging like a storm in the pit of my stomach.

Why didn't Yoongi tell me about Professor Park being involved in this discussion? When did he have time to ask her to come? Did it even matter at this point?

"Professor Park," Dr. Kim widened his eyes, his frame physically reclining back in his seat. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"As am I to be here," she smiled though her voice was venomous, eyes flashing to a very alarmed Professor Lee.

"Mia?!" The woman barked in disbelief at her friend's entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago," Professor Park replied, and with that she turned towards the dean and opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm here to testify on the behalf of Min Yoongi and Y/N."

Earth-shattering elation rippled through me from the inside out, starting at the base of my toes and spiraling to the top of my head and the tips of my fingers, causing them to tingle and buzz with a newfound sense of hope. We might actually have a chance!

"What?!" Professor Lee's voice ripped through the air in a deafening screech. "This isn't a court case! You don't get to play witness!"

"Actually, if Professor Park has witnessed anything, I would definitely like to know," Dr. Kim chimed in, raising an eyebrow towards my biology professor.

Professor Park nodded her head towards him in appreciation before speaking. "A few months ago Sara approached me in my classroom to tell me about the nasty rumors that were surrounding her and a student. She singled the student out, saying to purposely damage their grades because they were treating her unfairly and disrespecting her rules and authority as a professor; she even went so far as to say that they were sending her death threats"

"What?!" The word ripped from my throat faster than I could blink as I stared jaw-dropped at the women in the room.

"That's not true!" Professor Lee instantly protested as expected. "Sir, I can assure you that I never–"

"I have the text messages if you want," Professor Park offered in a tone so nonchalant one would've thought she was conversing about the weather.

Dr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "Text messages? I thought you said she came by your class?"

"She did, sir." Mia interlaced her fingers in front of her and bowed her head politely. "We spoke about it on multiple occasions. I asked why she wouldn't just go to you, or even the authorities if the student was making death threats, but Sara was adamant. She didn't want any scandals revolving around her so that she could maintain the level of professionalism that she had developed here."

I heard a snort coming from next to me, and it was with a swollen heart of pride that I realized the sound came from Yoongi trying to hold in a laugh.

Professionalism? Her? I had never heard anything so far fetched in my life.

Sara simply glared as Mia ignored him and continued. "She assured me that the best way to deal with this pesky student was to slowly start to fail them, and I'll admit, I was angry for her. Sara was my friend, and I respected her enough to believe what she was telling me and follow her requests." She turned her head to where I sat on the other side of Yoongi. "That student was you, Y/N. And I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for the way I handled things. You were treated unfairly and poorly due to false information."

"It wasn't false!" Professor Lee jumped in to defend herself, but everyone was pretty much ignoring her. Even the dean could tell she was playing the part of the boy who cried wolf at this point.

"I'd like to see those text messages, if you don't mind." Dr. Kim reached his hand out expectantly.

There was a brief moment of silence while Professor Park nodded and tapped away on her phone before handing it to him. His cold and calculated eyes scanned the screen while saying nothing, all three of us waiting with bated breath for him to come to a decision in his mind.

There was no where left for her to run. With these text messages, all the constant denying that Professor Lee has done will be proven false and she will be exposed for all the hell she's put me through this semester. My heart was practically bursting at the thought.

"Well I would've appreciated it if you ladies had come to me with this information instead of handling it amongst yourselves, true or not," Dr. Kim finally sighed before giving Sara his full attention. "Ms. Lee, you have three people accusing you. Even if you didn't do it, there's obviously something that's turning them against you. And here at this university we strive to hold cooperation and communication above all else. If you don't get along with the fellow staff here, then why should I believe that they're the problem and not you?"

"Um, because Min Yoongi is fucking his student?!" Professor Lee was fuming now, her upper body lurching forward in her seat and her hands gripping the arm rests for dear life. "He literally just admitted to it!"

"Language, Ms. Lee," Dr. Kim scolded calmly. "I still like to maintain a professional attitude here in my office."

"I apologize sir, but that's beside the point." She was sitting back in her seat now, though her tone was no less frantic. "Min Yoongi is in a relationship with his student, and staff cooperation or not, I don't really think that's in the teacher handbook." She raised a snarky eyebrow at us as if believing that she had finally won.

I knitted my eyebrows, my palms feeling slick with a nervous sweat against Yoongi's as I realized the bigger problem here. It wasn't whatever lies and schemes Professor Lee had cooked up with my biology teacher; it wasn't even Professor Lee herself. It was the fact that Yoongi and I were in a relationship, and that was going to have enough consequences alone to shake me to my very core with fear.

"She's right," Dr. Kim uttered the words that I was silently hoping he wouldn't say, my grip tightening on Yoongi as I anticipated whatever outcome he's decided. Our fate was in his hands.

"Of course I am." Professor Lee crossed her arms and sat back in her seat with a smug grin.

"I'm afraid I have no choice." He was shaking his head, frowning at us apologetically though the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Min, I am sorry to inform you that you will have to be forced to resign from our university."

The color instantly drained from my face, and with it pulling all five senses that I have into the depths of the earth until I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak—I could barely even breathe. There was a lump that was forming in my throat and settling deep within my gut, all of this feeling fake, too fake to be real.

Yoongi was fired, and it was all because of me.

"I understand, sir."

It was Yoongi's words that were pulling me from my fog of disbelief and devastation, my eyes blinking in an effort to snap back to reality as I looked from him to the dean. "No. No, there has to be something we can do, please!" I begged, my voice starting to get frantic the more the severity of the situation hit me. "I–I'll drop out! You don't have to worry about me ever coming near here again, just please, please don't fire him!"

"Y/N..." Yoongi's voice was quiet and full of resignation, defeat, but I wasn't giving up.

"Yoongi is an amazing professor who has worked here for, what, two years? He's extraordinary at what he does and students love him. It's not easy to find a professor like that everyday." I was staring into the eyes of the dean now, trying to move him with my words. "You shouldn't throw away someone as great as him just because of some stupid 18 year old's mistake! Please, Dr Kim." I leaned forward in my seat, the room silent as I spoke. "He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me. Please, let me suffer the consequences, not him."

I continued to stare in Dr. Kim's eyes, silently channeling my emotions through the pleading expression in my eyes, and it wasn't until I felt a comforting hand on my back that I was instantly drawn away into a more calm state in my chair. I gazed over at the owner of the hand, and he flashed back that smile I loved except it was sad, and it didn't reach his eyes, and I could tell there was so much he wanted to say to me right now if we weren't in the confinement of his boss' office.

"I understand your efforts, Y/N, but there's nothing I can do." Dr. Kim shook his head, and it was as if the world around me was shattering into blades of glass, scraping at my skin and leaving bloody wounds that I knew would never heal. "Mr. Min was involved in this relationship as well, and no matter whose fault it is, the professor needs to be held accountable. There is a level of professionalism and maturity that he must possess in order to work here; he's your superior, a respectable authority figure, and so he should've known better."

It was all I could do to keep from crying as I lowered my eyes and shook my head, every inch of my heart breaking for Yoongi until all that was left were tiny fragments to scatter in the wind. I couldn't believe I'd done this to him. The very thing he'd been worried about from the start—I had ruined his career.

"It is our goal as a university to see our students succeed," he continued, though I could barely hear a thing. "As for you, Y/N, I see no reason as to why you shouldn't keep attending this university."

I blinked a few times, confused. "You want me to... what?"

"You will have a suspension on your student records, mind you, and one more of those will lead to expulsion," he explained. "Though that doesn't mean that you can't keep going to school here. You will have to meet with an advisor every two weeks, though, who will be keeping a close watch on your behavior."

I could barely even believe my ears; had my hearing been completely lost due to the shock of the situation? "That's totally a double standard!" I gestured to Yoongi in disbelief.

"Y/N, it's okay..." Yoongi tried to calm me down.

"No, it's not okay!" I roared, eyes wide and brows furrowed in disbelief as I glanced at him before turning back to the dean. "Where do you think you can get off by treating people like this? This is his career—his life!"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Y/N," Dr. Kim bellowed in a stern voice as he frowned. "I'm doing you a favor here by letting you continue your education. Speak out against me one more time and I will be revoking that offer."

His words were deafening throughout the office; it was suddenly understandable why he was so feared by those who worked under him. Yoongi started to run his hand along my spine in a soothing manner, and though it helped relax my fiery nerves and clear my foggy mind, I was still just as upset—if not more, now that the information was beginning to settle in.

"So that's it then?" Professor Lee spoke for the first time in a while, her lips pressed into a firm line, obviously disappointed by the turn of events though she didn't dare to speak out against Dr. Kim as he had warned. "Yoongi gets fired and Y/N gets a free ride?"

"Not so fast, Ms. Lee." The dean turned to her. "What you did was beyond unprofessional. You violated several school policies as well as bullied a student! Do you think that type of behavior is acceptable as a professor?"

Professor Lee opened her mouth as if to protest before slowly shutting it again, realizing that she had nothing left that she hadn't already denied. It was obvious that the evidence given to him by Professor Park, who stood silent in the corner of the room, was incriminating enough to sway his decision.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that you will be fired as well."

"What?!" Her shrill voice screeched through the air, tearing whatever I had left of my eardrums and rendering me deaf here in this office. "What I did was no where near as bad as Yoongi and Y/N!"

"If anything, it was worse." Dr. Kim folded his hands over his desk. "Let's not forget that you managed to involve the entire student body in a false seminar that maliciously exposed one of our students and professors," he raised an eyebrow at her, "and that was just today."

"Yeah, not to mention all the other shit you did behind my back to make my life a living hell," I couldn't help from interjecting in a heated tone, though I backed off upon seeing the dean's stern gaze.

He redirected his attention back to Sara. "Here at this university, we strive to have a professional relationship, safe environment, and healthy lifestyle for our students. Neither of you achieved those three goals, so both of you will have to be let go."

Yoongi's expression simply remained placid and free of any emotion while Professor Lee's reaction was practically visceral, though neither spoke a word as heavy silence fell over the small office.

"Am I... am I still needed, sir?" It was Professor Park whose voice broke through the tension, everyone having forgotten she was there in the midst of the emotion-filled chaos. "Because if not, then I'm going to go."

"No, I'm just about finished here." Dr. Kim let out a sigh, as if what just transpired had been hard on him out of all people in the room. My blood boiled just looking at him, though I know I had to learn when to speak out and when to bite my tongue as Yoongi had taught me.

"Dr. Kim, is there any way you can reconsi–"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Lee," his booming voice interrupted the frantic professor. "I've said all that I need to say on the matter. I'm not changing my mind."

"Dr. Kim?" I spoke up just as Professor Lee and Professor Park were getting ready to walk out the door. "I–I have something else to tell you. Un-related to this," I threw in when I saw him throw a glance in Lee's direction.

The man sighed before waving them out, leaving his office empty of visitors other than me and Yoongi in the chairs. I wasn't going to let that boy go anywhere.

"Y/N, I'm sorry that the outcome isn't exactly what you wanted but I'm afraid there's nothing I can–"

"Choi Junwoo tried to rape me," I blurted out.

There was a moment's pause as the dean was stunned silent with wide eyes, and out of my peripheral vision I could see Yoongi tense up and inhale sharply next to me.

"W–what–"

"Choi Junwoo," I spoke slowly for him so that he'd understand, "a student here at this university, tried to rape me at a frat party."

I couldn't leave the office without saying it. I couldn't leave the office without telling him. This wasn't just about me or the turmoil or trauma he caused; this was for every other girl in the future who might be a victim of Jun. Though in my heart I truthfully believed he was a good person, and that he really was just intoxicated beyond belief that night, it was still no excuse. If he had rape-tendencies while he was drunk and I didn't speak out about it, then I would be no better when it came to helping other sexual assault victims.

"Are you sure–"

"I found them at the party while he was mid-act," Yoongi jumped in, probably figuring he was already fired so there was nothing left for him to lose when it came to revealing details about our relationship outside of school. "It was... disgusting. I got her out of there immediately, but not before punching that bastard in the face."

"Metaphorically, of course!" I couldn't help but chime in, not wanting an assault charge to be on his record as well.

Thankfully Dr. Kim simply brushed off that minuet detail in favor for the more important issue at hand. "Y/N, what you're telling me will ruin this student's future. Are you absolutely sure you want to file this?"

Despite the anger that swelled up inside of me from him questioning my accusation, I still couldn't help the little trickle of doubt that crept in as I considered his words. At one point, Jun had been a friend... maybe even a potential lover had Yoongi not been in the picture. Dr. Kim was right, this information could potentially ruin his reputation, his education, his record... was I ready to carry the weight of knowledge that I've ruined someone's life forever?

"What are you talking about? Of course!" Yoongi spat an answer before I even had a chance to finish my thoughts. "She told you what happened, didn't she? Why would she speak out about something like this if she was making it up?"

"Maybe a personal vendetta?" The dean shrugged his shoulders. "People will do crazy things for revenge."

Now that got me heated. "The only one who wanted revenge here was Junwoo!" I stood up from my seat to yell. "He liked me and was mad that I turned him down. As if I owed my feelings to him or something! And when I told him no, he forced himself on me?! Is that really the type of message you want to send at this college? You know, since you're so high and mighty on "cooperation"," I did air quotes of sarcasm around my last words, my ears practically steaming with boiling rage.

"We will come out about this story, by the way," Yoongi added in, his voice full of venom. "And how will that look if you tried to keep us silent?"

"You can forget about me attending this university," I hissed.

"Alright, alright, settle down, the both of you," Dr. Kim lowered his hands in a calming manner. "I was not suggesting I buy your silence or anything of that nature. I was simply making sure you wanted to go through with this."

"Yes," Yoongi and I both answered in unison.

The dean nodded his head before clasping his hands together. "Alright."

The rest of the time in the office with spent filling on paperwork on a claim against Junwoo. I'd been given the option to be kept in the loop or even present when everything went down, though I politely declined. I wanted nothing more to do with that boy.

Though it would seem Professor Lee didn't share the same sentiment when it came to me, because as soon as soon as the two of us walked hand in hand into the hallway and Dr. Kim's door was securely shut, she sprung into action.

"You bitch!" She shrieked, not wasting another second as she leaped through the air and onto my body like a crouched tiger that was waiting for the right moment to attack. I felt the pressure of her weight against my chest and the sting of her nails scraping against my cheek, and before I knew it I was stumbling down, down onto the ground with another vicious blow to my jaw that was accompanied by her fist.

It all happened within a matter of seconds, but it wasn't long until I heard Yoongi yell Sara! and then her weight vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes as Yoongi slammed her shoulders back against the wall, though it was the look in his eyes that caught my attention. I had seen that expression before.

He was about to throw a punch.

"Yoongi, stop!" I cried, summoning all the strength I possessed to push myself to my feet and stumble over to the pair.

Yoongi whipped his head towards me with exasperated, almost wild eyes and his brows knitted in confusion and disbelief. "Y/N, she attacked you!"

"She isn't worth it," I spoke firmly in an attempt to get through to him. "Yoongi, just let it go. She isn't worth the trouble anymore."

It was when I placed a soothing hand against his back that Yoongi finally sighed, his stance visibly relaxing and his hands dropping from Professor Lee's shoulders. "She's right," he spit in a low, venomous tone as he turned back to her and grit his teeth. "Thanks to Dr. Kim, you already got what you deserve."

"Yoongi," there were sudden sobs that were tearing through the hallway, and it took me a moment to realize that Professor Lee was now... crying.

"Yoongi," she continued as she clung onto his shoulders. "Yoongi, I loved you!"

Somewhere deep inside of me, past all the burning hatred for what this woman has done to my life out of pure jealousy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. This was once me, heartbroken over the effects of unrequited love. Yoongi was a very sought-after man, I'd come to realize, and it wasn't about my feelings or Professor Lee's or anyone else's. It was about his.

"Sara," Yoongi sighed, and there was almost a wince in his tone from how hard he was trying to make her understand. "It's over."

"W–what?" The woman was scrambling now. "It doesn't have to be! We can go back to the way things were–"

"There never was a ‘we’!" He ripped her hands from his shoulders. "We were friends, and then you sabotaged my career and Y/N's education. You never once spoke out about your feelings, came forward, handled things like adults," he stressed the last line. "You never once did any of those things! Instead you belittled another woman and cost yourself your job all for a man—someone who until now, was your friend." Yoongi sighed again and shook his head. "I hope you get the help you need, Sara. I'm sure there is someone out there who will love you unconditionally... but that person is not me."

And with that, he put a gentle hand on my back and we walked away.

“Oh my god.”

Those were the first words out of my mouth the second we exited the building, my hands resting on my head in disbelief as I turned to Yoongi. “Holy shit, Yoongi–“

“Shhh,” he instantly consoled me, his arms engulfing me in a comforting hug and my face tucking underneath his chin as he held me close. “We did it, Y/N. It’s all over.”

I stayed in his embrace for a few moments as his words sunk in. It was all over. No more secrets, no more Professor Lee—no more anything.

“B–but your job...” I pulled away to look up at him with a shaky tone, my brows furrowed in concern. “Dr. Kim fired you, he–“

“I resigned, Y/N. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I couldn’t help but look up at him with a hopeless expression.

Yoongi simply nodded his head, the picture of nonchalance as if his career hadn’t just changed forever. “Yes. If I had gotten fired, it would look terrible on my resumé should I apply for another teaching position. However, given the circumstances of our arrangement...” he paused, no doubt thinking of Professor Lee, “I suppose he decided to take it easy on us all.”

My shoulders deflated in relief. “Well thank god for that...” I sighed, not even wanting to think of what could’ve happened if Dr. Kim had given us the harshest punishment. In an ironic, twisted way, I suppose I have Professor Lee to thank for that. If she wouldn’t have made my life a living hell, it would’ve been that much worse if Dr. Kim ever found out on his own.

“But none of that even matters to me right now,” Yoongi suddenly snapped, and then in the time it took me to raise an questioning eyebrow he had already grabbed both sides of my face and rammed his lips into mine, the same as he did before we went inside to confront Professor Lee.

Only this time, the kiss was different. It didn’t hold promises and potential; it held freedom. It held the success of finally getting through everything by the skin of our teeth, the relief and the pride and the pure love that we have for each other after overcoming everything that we’ve been through together. I kissed him and I didn’t care who saw—because he wasn’t my professor anymore. There were no invisible chains that bounded us apart. It was just me and him sticking together against all odds. Never in my life did I think I would ever be a part of a relationship so committed, so passionate, so determined. He and I would never stop fighting for each other.

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” I murmured against his mouth with a grin on my features that was hard to disguise—especially when I felt the corners of his lips pull up into that gummy smile that I adored with all of my heart.

“God, I love you too, Y/N,” he replied back with a content sigh, and then he continued to kiss me on the busy campus sidewalk until we were both breathless and blue in the face.

Because we now had nothing to lose.

Despite finally being released from the clutches that school had on us, the days following the meeting with Dr. Kim were not easy.

Other than having to put on a fake smile and continue attending a university where practically everyone knew about my relationship with now-former Professor Min (my mother would never let me drop out—not that I could ever tell her the reason I'd want to, anyways), there were the stresses that Yoongi was dealing with of now being unemployed. And what with all but abandoning my dorm room to instead spend my nights with him at his apartment, it was impossible to not feel the weight of his problems on my shoulders as well. No matter how many times Yoongi tried to put up a façade and reassure me that he was okay, I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault.

"If I just never would've made you dance with me at that club..." I'd say at times, unable to keep from tracing back each and every one of our interactions and blaming myself.

"Cut that out," Yoongi would snap.

"What? It's true!"

"You know I don't like it when you talk like that!" He'd turn to me with a stern tone. "I don't regret anything that happened between us, okay? Not one single bit." There was a heavy silence as his words would hang in the air. "If you wouldn't have asked me to dance, then who knows if I ever would've worked up the courage to kiss you? And I wouldn't be here, sharing this bed with the love of my life."

"Aw, Yoongi..."

And the two of us would make love, again and again until we'd have a similar argument some time later and repeat the whole process all over again. I'd feel guilty, Yoongi would remind me of exactly how much he doesn't regret meeting me, and we'd get lost in each other's embrace.

That is, until a simple Sunday morning suddenly changed everything.

"I got it."

I casually peered over at the sound of him from my spot in the living room, sitting criss crossed on the couch in my pajamas with a laptop in my lap. "What?"

"The job." Yoongi's voice was low, serious as he stared at the paper in his hands that had previously been so carelessly disregarded on the kitchen island along with the Sunday paper. "At the university in Seoul."

"Wait." He had all of my attention now as I sat the laptop on the coffee table and rose to my feet. "Like the Seoul National University university?"

"Yeah," he let out a single chuckle of disbelief before he pressed the paper against the counter and turned to me. "I got the job."

"Oh my god, Yoongi!" I exclaimed with my own chuckle of disbelief before running forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms immediately engulfed my waist and lifted me off the ground as we spun around in place, my lips instantly finding his in a searing kiss that was full of passion and excitement to match our current mood. "That's amazing!"

"I know," he replied as he placed me down. A tentative smile was frozen on his lips as he stared off into the distance before letting out another sound of disbelief, his head shaking before his palm slid down his face. "I can't believe it!"

"I'm so proud of you!" I mirrored the grin of pure elation on his features, my chest swelling with joy and relief and most of all, pride.

I was so, so proud of Yoongi. I knew how much his job meant to him, and the feeling of guilt that weighed down on me from knowing that I was the one who inadvertently took that away from him, that I was the one who inadvertently caused all this stress of job hunting was instantly lifted off my shoulders. I knew how much he wanted this. I knew how hard he had worked to get this job at such a prestigious school, and god damn it, I knew how much he deserved it. If Yoongi was anything, apart from being an amazing person and a wonderful lover, he was great at his job. He was a natural born teacher.

Though no matter how many times I've willingly showered him with endless compliments about his work, he'd blush sheepishly and simply swat away all of my words with a simple kiss, or an "if you don't shut up your food is going to get cold. We're unemployed now; we need all the nutrition we can get. Haven't you ever heard of the Great Depression?"

So instead, I just chose to beam at him while he basked in the euphoria of the moment that this job acceptance brought on. After all, I knew he was well aware of how proud of him I was and how supportive I'd always be when it came to anything he wanted to accomplish.

Though the bliss was short lived.

I watched as Yoongi's expression slowly fell, the smile on his face slipping into a deep frown and his eyes turning to stone. "No."

"What?" I furrowed my brows, concern filling me and etching onto my features as I cupped his cheek in my hand, trying to figure out why his mood had changed so suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not taking it." His tone was cold, definitive, as if the subject wasn't even up for debate as he grabbed the letter.

"Wait wait wait," I hurried to stop him from tearing it in half. "What are you talking about? Why not?"

He turned to look at me with cold, incredulous eyes, as if he couldn't believe I was even asking a question so stupid. "The university is in Seoul, Y/N."

"Okay...?" I shook my head in confusion, still not understanding what the issue was. "And?"

"I'd have to move." He was taking the paper back out of my hands and ripping it right down the middle before I got the chance to stop him.

I suddenly deflated, the severity of his words dropping in my stomach and wrapping around the anchor of my heart, sending it down, down, down through the floor of his apartment and hurdling towards the center of the earth.

"...What?"

"I'd have to move away from you."

And there is was, the bomb detonating an explosion and demolishing whatever was left of my heart.

"No... t–there has to be another way, there has to–"

"Seoul is hours away from here, Y/N," Yoongi barked out, his tone angry and harsh as it always was when he was upset. "It's on the other side of the country; there's no way I'd be able to commute without living there."

"Okay, so why did you apply then?" I couldn't help but snap back defensively. "You knew the distance to Seoul prior to applying for the job. Why even bother if you're just going to get pissed about not taking it?!"

"Because I didn't think I'd get accepted!" His voice was loud, almost yelling now. "It's the most sought after, prestigious school in the fucking country and I didn't think some young idiot who got fired from his last job would be able to get in!"

It was silent as his words settled over the atmosphere, clinging to the air that filled the room around us and encasing my lungs until it was impossible to breathe.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I finally hissed. "You're a great teacher, and you know it. If anyone's a young idiot here, it's me!"

Yoongi scoffed with a shake of his head. "I'm the one who kissed you again during that tutoring session after telling you to stay away. I'm the one who fucked you against that desk." His tone was low now, and his eyes seemed to grow harder in realization with each step that he took towards me. "I'm the one who asked to take you out on that fucking date and I'm the one who pulled you onto my lap when Sara caught us in my classroom! God damn it, I'm the one who tracked you down at a fucking frat party and punched one of my students!"

His voice slowly raised until he was yelling again, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was now standing chest to chest and cornering me up against the countertop of the island, I would've winced at the loud volume so close to my ears.

"Stop blaming yourself, Y/N, when I'm the one who was the authority figure. I'm the one who should've had my shit together, but I just couldn't around you!"

I felt myself soften at that. As angry and intimidating as he seemed right now, surely frightening whoever would come into contact with him when he was like this, I knew that it was all a front. Yoongi wasn't the best at dealing with emotional situations—he'd all but bite my head off any time I even tried to mention his father—and sometimes lashed out in anger when he was upset or hurting inside. I knew how badly he wanted this job; I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice when he'd first submitted the application. And now, when the career position of his dreams was finally right under his nose, he couldn't have it. Because I was holding him back.

"You have to take it." My voice was solemn and steady as I stared him in the eyes.

He instantly frowned. "What? No, I–"

"Yoongi."

He fell silent, all signs of anger and malice wiped from his features once he saw just how serious I was being. A soft, bittersweet smile that had nothing to do with happiness slowly tugged at my lips as my eyes gleamed with pain. My heart was breaking with every word I was speaking, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

"You have to take the job."

The silence that ensued my words only further proved my point, simultaneously stabbing a knife into my chest with each passing second. He knew I was right. He knew it. He just didn't want to hear it.

"You don't..." He sounded smaller, more pitiful and confused as he tried to make sense of what I was saying. "You don't want me to stay?"

The hurt, the sadness, the utter hopelessness in his voice absolutely crushed me. I couldn't help but fall into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his chest and squeezing tightly as if I could somehow hold the pieces of him together that I knew were breaking. The severity of what was happening, of what I was doing started to settle within me the moment I heard his voice break.

"I do, baby," I replied, the sound muffled by the skin of his neck that my face was buried in as a sob threatened to claw its way out of my throat and swallow me whole. "God, you know I do. But you can't."

"Y–you can come with me." He was shaking his head now, his hands gripping at the shirt on my back with closed fists while he desperately tried to hold onto me, as if I would disappear beneath him at any moment. "We can move together to Seoul and you can–"

"You know I can't, Yoongi." It was my turn to shake my head, and with it came a heavy tear that fell down my cheek. "I have to go to school. I have a family who's helping pay for my tuition, and my mom— you know it's not all up to me."

I heard him sniffle as he pulled away, and even though I felt no evidence of tears from him against my skin or my shirt, his eyes were bright red when he stared back at me.

"I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

The sheer determination in his voice had me shattering like broken glass. "I'm not letting you do this, Yoongi. I'm not letting you waste this opportunity. Do you know how many people are waiting to work at Seoul University? How many professors would kill to be in your position?" I kept my gaze steadily on his as I slowly shook my head. "I care about you... so fucking much. I've never loved someone so much before... not like this." I paused, asking myself one last time if this was really the decision I wanted to make as my words settled in. I took in the sight of his beautiful, breathtaking features silently begging me not to do this. "I'm putting you above my selfishness," I finally decided with another shake of my head. "You need to do this Yoongi, for you. You know you do."

Yoongi slowly shook his head, though the expression on his face told me he knew I was right. "I don't want to lose you," he spoke as a tear spilled over the brim of his eye, dampening his lashes and leaving a wet streak in its wake as it rolled down his cheek, and the sight was the final breaking point that had me bursting into tears.

"Neither do I."

His fingers dug into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body, his forehead leaning against mine as the only sounds exchanged between the two of us were the unspoken words of labored breaths and soft sobs.

Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do what's best for them.

And I knew this was what's best for Yoongi.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #lmao why am i so impulsive #i decided i was gonna post this all of ten minutes ago and here we are #anyways this will help my peace of mind to know that at least SOMETHING is out there #some sort of closure to the series #not everything i had planned but #it'll do for now #i hope u guys can forgive me for whatever tf this is fjshgdkfd

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fuckit-hero-of-trains · 4 years

Text

Alone Together 1 Year Anniversary

I’m a little bit late, but its officially been 1 year since I began writing Alone Together. It’s been a wild ride and honestly? I wouldn't be here without you guys. This project has really transformed my whole view on writing and with your help, has made me a more confident author and for that, I am so very very grateful. I love all you guys so much and hope this next year of writing has just as many twists and turns and emotional conversations as the last one!

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish chapter 8 to celebrate. However, here is a preview of what’s to come in the next chapter!

There are sounds that Four has come to dread.

Some, Four resents for practical reasons: The sharp and resonant ting that white-hot metal sometimes makes as it enters the quench, as much felt in his gloved hands as heard over the hiss and spit of oil. It is the tinny sound of microcracks ringing into existence, fissures forming as the pressure of hot hammer hammer hammer hammer hot cold becomes too much for the worked steel.

It's a horrible little sound, really. Almost pathetic if it weren't so devastating.

Hours of work gone and shattered not with a bang, but with a whimper.

Other sounds Four dislikes for more personal, but no less rational reasons.

The ringing of Hyrule Castle’s clock tower still sets his teeth on edge even all these years later, his stomach dropping down to his boots as the sound of the third bell tolls through his bones.

Gale force winds clattering at the slats of his windows still causes him to flinch, though not hard.

He had conquered the wind before– twice before, if anyone was keeping count. Which he is– but he can't stop the knee jerk reaction to it regardless.

Voices dropping down to whispers as he turns a corner still causes him to collapse a little into himself. Forces him to make himself even smaller than he already is. Like if he just kept his head down and hood up, hunched his shoulders a little higher, walked a little faster, he could become unintrusive enough to not to cause a marked difference in the volume of Hyrule Town just by buying carrots.

...

Like he said. Rational reactions to… personal aversions.

But then there are sounds that part of Four knows with utmost certainty that he has no reason to fear. Childish little things that set his blood pumping, his lungs stuttering, his stomach plummeting. Dumb little irrational nothings that he knows, he knows, shouldnt have an effect on him.

And yet…

Well, that's just it, isn't it?

And yet, at night, when the coyotes send their giggling screams of joy to the moon, despite being surrounded by the walls of his house or by the sleeping bodies of his fellow heroes, Four feels ice drip into his blood and his stomach fill with stones, like he’s the helpless little thing being chased.

And yet, there is something in an echo that eats at him. That steals the breath from his lungs at just how lonely it sounds. Truly and utterly alone, with nothing better to do than parrot back words stolen from someone else’s throat.

And yet the clap of shattering glass feels like taking a stone to the head, wiping away all logical thought in a singular spike of pain. It makes him whirl around, desperately searching for the source of the noise. And only then, when he sees that it's a dropped teacup or an incident with a ball and a window… only then does his body and mind let itself uncurl.

And yet–

“Four.”

The smallest hero feels the flinch roll through his shoulders before he can stop it. It rolls through him despite himself. Despite knowing this was coming. Despite the fact that he had been preparing himself for it for days, knowing it was coming once they had enough time to rest after the battle with the Hinox.

In his hands, the whetstone he was carefully gliding across the Four Sword whines to an abrupt halt as he turns to address the older hero.

From above, Time sends him what Four suspects is supposed to be a placating smile but which looks most like an uncomfortable twitch of the lips.

Regardless, it doesn't help. It looks too… comforting for the conversation they're about to have. Too nice. Too soft. Something to lessen a blow before it’s even thrown.

Because it is going to be thrown.

“Would you help me gather some firewood?”

It’s framed as a question.

Four knows it isn’t one.

So he nods. Puts his whetstone back in his bag. Sheathes the Four Sword, takes comfort in it’s weight against his back when he straps it there. And then he takes Time’s outstretched hand, allowing the older to help him up.

Without another word, Time turns and begins to lead the way out of the clearing they’ve set up camp in and into the shade of the forest.

Four glances back at the others.

They look… Well, the smithy would never use the word peaceful to describe his fellow heroes. Hyrule is sat under the shade of a tree, eyes closed, shoulders relaxed, and breaths even as he meditates. Beside him, Legend holds a needle and thread poised to begin mending a tunic.

Or, at least, he would be if he weren’t pointing the needle threateningly at Wind, who dangles from the branches of the tree they’re sitting under, holding what looks to be a bottle of chu chu jelly over Hyrule’s head, smirking as he prepares to pull the cork.

A little farther away, Warriors and Sky seem to be engaged in a heated argument regarding birds of all things.

Both had been the most heavily injured after their fight against the Hinox– Sky had managed to dislocate both shoulders by desperately clinging to the Master Sword embedded in the beast’s forearm even when the monster viciously tried to dislodge him while Warriors had suffered a broken femur thanks to an entire tree being thrown at him, Hylia, Wild’s monsters were really something.

Thus, even after a round of potions and some of Hyrule’s rosie, crystalline magic, the two were sat up in their bedrolls, wrapped in restrictive bandaging and forbidden from helping set up camp, apparently leading to the two having nothing better to do than argue about whether or not cuccos were “a blight upon all of Hyrule,” as Warriors was emphatically arguing.

Beside the bickering heroes, Wild and Twilight are attending to dinner, the two chatting as they chop and toss vegetables into a pot of bubbling stew. It must be going fairly well– and it always does with Wild at the helm– because the mouthwatering smell of cooking onions, garlic, and celery permeates the clearing.

Wild glances up midway through a laugh, and locks eyes with Four. In a second, the humor falls off the other’s face, his eyes flicking quickly between the smithy and the retreating back of Time in question.

Need help? His eyes seem to ask.

And though the other had promised to be with him, to help him with this conversation when it happened, Four slowly and deliberately shakes his head.

Wild has helped him enough. Has helped him run through what he wants to say. What he needs to say. To defend himself. Or, at least, help Time understand his point of view.

And as much as he would love for Wild to be here, to see him use what the other had taught him… something tells the smithy he should do this alone.

Or, at least, as alone as he ever is.

So he flashes Wild a grin that he hopes is more placating than Time’s and turns back toward the forest. He takes a deep breath. Lets it fill his lungs to bursting. Lets it buoy him up. Lets it raise his shoulders from their hunch and straighten his spine.

Well this should be fun Don’t say that We’ve practiced for this Remain calm Here we go

He lets the breath rush out from between his lips in a woosh, forcing himself to relax. To calm his beating heart, the whirlpool of emotion in his stomach, the itch in his scalp, the urge in his lungs to breathe faster.

With hands more shaky than he’d like, Four adjusts his headband, tightening it to the edge of discomfort.

It’s irrational to be afraid of Time.

Four knows that.

And yet, as he squares his shoulders and strides into the dark after the older hero, Four can't help but feel the twinge of fear that nestles itself deep into his chest, watching, waiting, listening, for the perfect moment to go for the throat.

#Alone Together #lu alone together #lu four #lu time #they're gunna have #A Talk TM #OOF #happy 1 year guys #love all of you #gunna try to get to all the comments before I post the next chapter #which *hopefully* will come out next week #we'll see #thank you again for all the support #like actually you guys blow my mind #like #I didn't think anyone would like my ramblings #so thank you for everything #love you guys <3 #train writes

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wonhaebunny · 4 years

Text

tws // mentions of nightmares and canon-typical stuff regarding kamino. not a very feel good fic. takes place shortly after kamino, before the dorm system was implemented.

it starts with a doctor's appointment, surprisingly.

a regular checkup, the irritating kind where the hag drags him off to see their family doctor and asks all kinds of embarrassing shit while the doctor reassures her of her son's perfect health and katsuki fumes in the background.

these types of appointments are routine; they've happened the same way since katsuki can remember, and will continue to for as long as he remains legally a minor. maybe this is why he's so surprised when his mom goes off-script this time.

"katsuki's been very quiet." she says suddenly, interrupting the doctor's rambling about katsuki's physical health. the words are abrupt, like they've been sitting at the tip of her tongue, pushing to be heard. the doctor, a frail old man with kind eyes that sit behind thin-framed spectacles, blinks at her.

"what was that, mrs bakugou?" he asks after a bewildered pause. katsuki very much resonates with his visible confusion, turning to give his mother a glare.

"he's quiet," she says again, ignoring her son's accusatory eyes. "he's been staying in his room all the time, doesn't eat as much anymore. it's concerning."

katsuki's palms start to spark, defensive words already rising in his throat. he doesn't know why this bitch is deciding to make a fucking scene in front of the doctor when he's been fine. he barely even feels different, other than being goddamn tired. and sue him for being tired, when he got kidnapped by a motherfucking villain group not even two weeks ago! he's allowed to sulk.

but his arguments die at his lips when his mother turns her gaze to meet his. her eyes are serious, something genuine and heavy and vulnerable in them that has him faltering.

"shut the fuck up," he manages to bite out sharply, still feeling somewhat blindsided by the unfamiliar array of emotions displayed across her normally unreadable face.

she doesn't shy away from him, lips pursing tightly.

"i don't know what to fucking do, katsuki." her voice shakes.

and this, the utter helplessness threaded through the words, is what has katsuki sinking back down to his seat numbly.

he doesn't understand, not really. he's had less of an appetite since kamino, been unable to sleep or focus or... really do anything but mope, now that he thinks about it. but he'd assumed it would pass with time, along with all the other shit he'd accumulated from the event. he hadn't given it more than a few moments' consideration, fully willing to stew away in his room for the majority of the summer break.

but now his mother is looking at him, her once-impenetrable gaze wavering and lost and he feels like the air has been punched out of his stomach.

"i'm fucking fine."

the words come out too quiet, too unsure.

"you're not acting like it," she replies flatly.

"i hear you crying through the walls at night."

katsuki's cheeks heat up at the words, head dipping low as the doctor's gaze falls onto him, heavy and penetrating.

he hadn't told his mom about the nightmares, or all the other shitty feelings he's had since kamino. he'd assumed he was being subtle about it; evidently not.

"shut the fuck up," he spits again, glaring at her venomously. the gaze of the man on the other side of the table feels like lead, boring into him and rooting him to his seat.

mitsuki doesn't meet his gaze this time, having the decency to look guilty as she stares at the floor. he burns holes into the side of her head anyway, refusing to feel an ounce of sympathy.

"mrs bakugou," the doctor interrupts gently. "would you mind leaving the room for a moment? i'd like to speak with katsuki privately."

katsuki is ready to protest, ready to argue that he has nothing to fucking say to the asshole, but his mother is already standing.

"okay," she says quietly, and the easy admission, if nothing else, is what has katsuki's mouth snapping shut as she slips out of the room.

in her absence, the doctor leans back in his seat.

"how are things with you, katsuki?" he asks gently. the teenager glares intently at the grain of the dark wood table between them, refusing to meet the inevitably pitying gaze of the other.

"fuckin' peachy," he snaps.

"are you experiencing any issues in your life? girl problems? or perhaps... boy problems?"

"fuck no."

"and is school stressing you out much?"

"no."

"if you don't mind my asking, is your home life-"

"everything is fucking. fine."

"okay. okay. and... how about... the events of kamino? how have you been dealing with the aftermath of that?"

katsuki's jaw audibly clicks with the speed at which it slams tightly shut.

after a terse moment, he huffs.

"nothing to fuckin' deal with," he mutters.

the doctor makes a small noise in the back of his throat at this.

"it was a traumatic event, katsuki," he emphasises gently.

"they didn't do shit to me," katsuki snaps. "kidnapped me, kept me locked up for a day or two, then the heroes came. nothing to fuckin' deal with."

there's silence for a long, long moment.

then, slowly, wordlessly, the old man leans over to pluck a pen from his desk. he scribbles something onto a sticky note pad before him, and peels the layer of paper away.

"katsuki," he says quietly, offering the paper to the teenager with soft, sad eyes. "i would like it if you talked to someone. this is a very good friend of mine, and she-"

the sticky note is going up in flames before he can finish his sentence.

"i am not," katsuki spits venomously, raising from his seat as the charred remains of the paper float to the ground, "going to see a fucking shrink. i'm fine."

the doctor doesn't look upset, and the fact makes katsuki even angrier. the blonde watches irately as the man patiently peels another sticky note from the pad, writing down the details neatly and offering the new paper again.

katsuki doesn't reach to take it, fists curling at his sides.

"i'm fucking done here." he says roughly. "keep your bullshit psychoanalysis for the losers who ask for it."

he's just turning to storm out when the man's words stop him in his tracks.

"are you tired, katsuki?"

he doesn't answer, jaw clenching tight.

(tired? he always is, these days.)

"you look it," the man continues guilelessly.

"i've been your personal doctor since you were in elementary school. i don't think i've ever seen you this exhausted."

katsuki doesn't move away from where he stands in the middle of the room, but his hand drops to his side from where it had raised to wrap around the doorknob.

"are you experiencing difficulties sleeping?" the man presses.

(every night.)

"or perhaps a loss of appetite? motivation?"

(god, every damn minute.)

"katsuki," his doctor says, rising from his seat to round the table and face him. he's so small, so delicate in his withered, wrinkly body. the man takes katsuki's hand in his own, and presses the sticky note into his palm.

"please talk to her. i think it's quite clear you need help, and there's no shame about it. all heroes do."

katsuki thinks back to all might's emaciated form at kamino, standing alone with his finger outstretched to the world.

you're next.

his tongue grows heavy in his mouth, and when the man calls mitsuki back in, he lets himself be ushered out of the room smoothly.

mitsuki doesn't ask, even though katsuki sees her eyeing the crumpled sticky note fisted in his hand as she drives them home.

he would appreciate it, in any other moment.

now, he's too preoccupied with staring at the tiny yellow square distantly.

he eats healthy. trains hard. studies daily. sleeps eight hours a day. katsuki has always, in every way possible, done what was necessary to be the best, to stand alone. so why are these scrawled contact details staring up at him right now?

where did he go wrong?

why wasn't it enough?

katsuki is no stranger to feelings of inadequacy; he's grown more familiar with failure than anyone could ever imagine. it's an occupational hazard which accompanies the standards that he holds himself to, he's smart enough to realise that.

but somehow, defeat has never felt heavier than the crumpled paper in katsuki's fist.

#this is a vent fic #sorry #i had a rough day

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emdeedot45 · 4 years

Note

General 35, “We really shouldn’t be doing this…”

Thank you ♥️

Prompt #3 "We really shouldn't be doing this..."

“Where is he?” Sylvie demanded to know as she slammed the door of the ambulance and immediately stormed over to the squad table.

Severide’s eyes widened at her abruptness, “In his quarters, slamming doors just like you are...”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. He had no right to be slamming doors, she was the only one who should be slamming doors right now. She brushed past the rest of 51 who had congregated by them, wondering what the commotion was about, and stormed towards Matt’s quarters. 51 stood silently on the apparatus floor. It was rare to see Casey and Brett lose their cool like this, and they weren’t sure they wanted to know what would happen next.

“Have you lost your mind?” Sylvie asked as she burst though Matt’s door, slamming it behind her.

Matt clenched his jaw and turned around to look at her, his hands firmly in his pockets. “I don’t know what you want me to say, I’m not apologising.” He made clear.

“You had no right to pull me out of there like that, I was doing my job!” Sylvie shouted. They’d been tending to a fire a few blocks away when Grainger had asked Sylvie to come into the house to stabilise a victim before they moved him.

“You shouldn’t have been in that house in the first place, the structure was entirely unstable!”

“The victim needed immediate attention—”

“We could have gotten him out, Grainger put you in danger.” Matt said, the venom in his voice over Grainger’s name made clear. He’d heard from Stella that Sylvie had a date with the guy and it was driving him crazy. When he walked into the room at the fire and saw Sylvie standing over the victim he ordered her out of there immediately – an order that Sylvie refused to take – and gave Grainger a dressing down afterwards.

“So this is about Greg?” Sylvie asked in disbelief. “You’re letting your unwarranted jealousy of the guy get in the way of your job, that’s real professional Captain.”

“Unwarranted?”

“Yes unwarranted! I didn’t even go on a date with the guy, I called if off the morning of because I stupidly cannot get you out of my head!” Sylvie exclaimed. God, she hated herself right now, but it was the truth. Matt Casey consumed her thoughts and she just couldn’t let him go and she couldn’t let a nice guy like Grainger be collateral in it all. “And you are the one who actually did date Sydney! So who are you to get mad over me going on a date with someone else?!”

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Matt made clear. That was a move he wanted to forget about and not have thrown in his face. “Bottom line is Grainger made a bad call and put your life in danger, I’m not going to apologise for ordering you out of that situation because I almost lost you once when you were called into an unstable building, I’m not going to let that happen again!”

Sylvie paused, her shoulders and heart dropping. She had no idea that Matt carried the burden of Arnow around with him like that. Her heart hurt for him, because she didn’t blame him one bit. Nobody did.

“This is about Arnow?” she asked, her voice finally lowering as she tried to make sense of what was going on in Matt’s head. There seemed to be a hundred things at once, no wonder he'd struggled to answer Sylvie's question about Gabby or make any sense of the situation either.

“It’s about it all. It’s about the space, it’s about Grainger, it’s about Gabby, it’s about everything that I can’t seem to get right in my life!” he exclaimed frustratedly. He was mad that she asked for space and he’d given it to her without a fight, he was mad that Grainger called her into a dangerous situation, he was mad that Gabby somehow found a way to make his life hard even when she wasn’t here—but mainly? Mainly he was mad at himself. He was mad that he hadn’t taken any sort of accountability for his own life and his own feelings and done something about it. He was mad that he hadn’t let himself fight for what made him happy.

“I’m sick of feeling like I have to let things go in my life. I’m sick of not fighting for what I want.” He said quietly, staring right through her, sending shivers through Sylvie’s body. Nobody had ever looked at her the way Matt looked at her. It made the hairs on her arms stand up, it made her feel seen and loved.

“What do you want?” Sylvie asked with a gulp.

“You. I want you.” Matt said without missing a beat.

“Matt, I—”

Matt wasn’t sure what came over him in that moment, but he knew it was time for him to take back some control of his life and of this situation. He stepped forward, backed Sylvie against the door, raised his hands to the sides of her face and kissed her senselessly. It only took Sylvie a second to respond, her lips parting and meeting his kiss with the same amount of force. The kiss was fast and heated yet somehow full of deep tenderness and affection. It made them wonder how they’d gone all these weeks without it.

Matt moved one his hands down her body, his hand slipping under top and snaking around her back. He moved his lips down her jaw and towards her neck, stopping when he found a spot that momentarily took her breath away.

“No” Sylvie managed to get out, but her body language told a different story as she closed her eyes and craned her neck to the side, allowing him full access to her sweet spot. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” he panted against her sink, using his hand around her back to pull her closer against him.

“Because nothing has changed, there’s still so much that that needs said—” she reasoned.

“Yeah, there is – but I don’t want to talk about it all alone.” He said as he lifted his head to look at her. He wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t saying this in the heat of the moment, he was saying this because he meant it. He’d been stewing on these thoughts for weeks now and he was determined to get this moment right.

“I want to work through it together because that’s what you and I do best. I am miserable without you Sylvie. We’re a team, we always have been, as colleagues, as friends and now as more. I want you. I want this partnership because I’ve already done the dealing with my shit on my own thing in relationships and it doesn’t work. It shouldn't work.”

“You want to talk” Sylvie whispered. She knew it probably sounded like the stupidest response, but it was all she could muster out. She hadn’t really had a relationship before where the guy actually wanted to talk to her and work through their issues together. It was either their way or no way at all.

Matt nodded before moving his forehead to rest against hers, “I want to talk to you for the rest of my life.”

Sylvie gave him a soft, small but genuine smile. They still had so much to figure out, things were not set to be sunshine and rainbows – but that was ok because they were dealing with it together.

“Ok” she finally said. “Let’s talk.”

And Matt knew from the look in her eyes that she didn’t mind the idea of talking to him for the rest of her life either.

#brettsey #chicago fire #matt casey #matt x sylvie #sylvie brett #brett casey #brett x casey

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 4 years

Text

Beauty and the Beast || Pt. 2

Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Part one if you haven't read it!!

Y/N woke up the next morning with a terrible ache in her back and neck, due to where she slept the night before. Her eyelids opened slowly, like heavy curtains in a royal ballroom, although her cell was far from it. She became aware of her surroundings, and the first thing that came to mind was the clattering of coins and jewels, being piled up without an end in the depths of the kingdom. The sounds of demanding shouts and carts rolling in to pay their toll with treasure.

She sat up, stretching as far as she could muster, and then twisted side to side, hearing the satisfying pops of her spine. Little light came into the cell, but it was enough for her to make out something in front of her.

Food.

She reluctantly reached for the (literal) silver platter, which had a small bowl of stew, half a loaf of bread, and a goblet of some dark substance.

She relished the taste of this well-cooked food, which was, albeit a bit cold, but still absolutely delicious. The cup was a well-aged wine that she sipped on carefully, making sure to take satisfaction in this rare meal.

She ate another piece of bread, leaning her head against the wall, and closed her eyes.

"I take it you're enjoying the meal?"

Y/N jumped in surprise at the sound of a Scottish voice, followed by a hearty laugh. A raven haired-dwarrow was leaning against the wall outside of the metal bars, with a large grin, and on his finger, dangled a key gold ring. Y/N glared at him, and his rather peculiar-looking hat, braided hair peeking from underneath.

"Yes. It was quite good actually, Master Bofur." She looked down at her fiddling hands.

"Aye, so you do remember me?"

"Of course. It's hard to forget 13 dwarves and a hobbit seeking refuge in your own home." A small smile crept up her face, "Have you come to remind me of your name, or something else?"

Bofur chuckled with a shake of his head, hat flopping along with it.

"No my lady. I've come to show you to your room."

"Room?"

"Aye. Our master's orders."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I don't think I should accept any offerings from your poor excuse of a king."

"Well, then the good thing it's not an offering from my 'poor excuse of a king'." Bofur started to unlock her cell doors, sending her a sly wink, "Kìli and Fìli are just as much in the line of Durin as their uncle."

Y/N nodded in realization.

"Princes."

"Now yer gettin' it," the dwarrow smiled, opening up the cell door, "Come on then lass. Let's get you to your quarters."

Y/N sighed, and then stood up, linking arms with the shorter male, and he led the way with a skip in his step.

The two walked over the huge paths of iron and stone, looking down to the piles of gold and jewels of every shape size, and color. Y/N gaped in awe at the sight of it all. It was very impressive, all the more reason to fall to the dragon sickness.

Bofur patted a hand on her back.

"Let us hurry, Lady Y/N. We'd best hope the King doesn't catch us moving you."

She nodded, tearing her eyes away from the stunning spectacle below their feet, and let him lead the rest of the way to her new room.

Soon, the duo stopped at a pair of enormous oak doors, trimmed with intricate gold designs that led up to the shining doorknobs. And if that wasn't enough...

Bofur looked over his shoulder, before carefully opening the entrance revealing a beautiful chamber bedroom. On the opposite side, a mahogany canopy bed, laced with dark red and black drapes that matched the ones on the slim glass windows sitting on either side. The floor was partially covered with a fur rug, made from a thick-coated animal, though it was one Y/N was unable to identify.

The room, although beautifully decorated, was dark and musky, dust coating almost every surface, and a fireplace to her left had very seldom been used.

"A-are you sure this room is for me, Master Bofur?" Y/N managed to get out.

"Why of course! Only the finest, from our princes. Is it not to your liking, my lady?"

"Oh no! I love it, but..."

"You're a prisoner?" Bofur finished her thought.

Y/N nodded, still looking around in awe.

"You are still a human, much less a Lady. I understand our leader can be a bit cruel,"

Y/N scoffed.

"However, he is not heartless. This dragon sickness has hurt him more than you could know." The dwarrow shook his head solemnly.

"I can see that very clearly... But, what is this room even for?"

"The King's sister, Princess Dis. She's to be expected when the Arkenstone is found, but for now, I don't think she'll mind if you use it."

Y/N nodded.

"Well, I should be off. I've got more digging to do," the gentleman gave a tip of his floppy hat and a wink, "Expect a visit from the princes very shortly, lady Y/N."

"Thank you Master Bofur." Y/N waved and then turned around at the sound of the clicking door, and fumbling of keys in a lock.

After confirming that he was gone, the young heroine walked over to a large vanity, wielding a mirror that had been neglected for many years. Its shine was long gone, covered by dust and fading paint. She reached a delicate hand out, wiping away the residue, and observed her reflection, her tired, tear-stained eyes, and rosy cheeks that were red from the cold floor of the cell.

Y/N sighed, turning away, and then noticed the huge bed from before. Although it was a childish thought, she wanted so badly to run over and leap onto it. And that's just what she did. She jumped up and landed on the bed with an unsatisfied cough, the dust, and lint flying up from the heavy sheets and duvet cover.

"So much for elegant..." Y/N muttered, dusting off her fur cloak. She looked up through the boards of the canopy bed, and to the beautifully painted ceiling, covered with detailed images of clouds, nude Dwarves seated regally seated upon them. She gave a slight chuckle.

An abrupt knock stirred her daydreaming, and she shot up.

"The door is open..." Y/N called.

"Aye, clearly it's not, since we're having to open it." A familiar voice called. Prince Fìli and Kìli, the sister-sons of Thorin, peeked their heads through the doorway with precarious grins.

"Ah, I suppose it's open now..."

"I take it the room is to your liking, Lady Y/N?" Fìli asked smoothly, striding through the door, and shortly behind, followed his younger brother.

"It is quite nice," The girl nodded, "Tell me, Princes under the mountain... Why did you call to give me a room?"

"It's the least we could do, my lady." Kìli smiled.

"You sheltered us and fed us and kept us warm when nobody else in Lake-Town would even bother." Fìli added.

"Really, it was no problem. But seeing as I'm a thief, I don't understand why I'm getting such royal treatment. Your uncle has taken a deep disliking to my brother and I."

The prince's shared a worried glance.

"We understand that our Uncle has fallen under this sickness. Ever since he'd gotten ahold of the stone, he's gone completely mad."

Y/N scoffed.

"And to that, I can agree. Does he endure this idea of me taking your mother's room?"

"He does not know..." Fìli whispered.

"He'll find out soon enough, dear brother. Uncle will just have to tolerate it. In our book, he's done quite enough damage." The dark-haired prince clapped a hand on his older sibling's shoulder, "Besides, a prison cell is no place for such a lively lady as yourself." He winked in her direction. Y/N smiled softly, looking down at her hands.

"Your kindness is greatly appreciated. I do take it to heart."

"We hope you do. You should join us all for dinner in the great hall, my Lady." The blonde smiled.

"Would Thorin allow it? I'm sure he'll already be furious with me taking a room..."

"Well, he hardly joins our Merry feasting anyways. To obsessed with that stone, and trying to become ruler of Dale."

The three were silent for some time before Y/N sighed.

"I'll consider your offer, although no promises can be made."

"Fair enough." Kìli grinned.

"We hope you see you accordingly, Miss Y/N." Fìli bowed shortly, and then took his brother's arm as they left the room, leaving their "captive" in quiet once more.

#thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin durin #thorin is a brat #bilbo baggins #bofur #kili durin #fili durin #beauty and the beast #crossover

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 39)

This part was typed mostly on mobile. Sorry for any typos.

She remembers the first time she had seen snow. The feeling...it was bizarre. If she were to be completely honest, she would best compare it to the sensation of her worst days--the days when her mind is slipping and everything feels off and nothing feels real. But instead of fear, she feels awe. Instead of dread, she feels an almost childlike sense of delight.

And perhaps, in some sense, she is a child again; she has something new to discover. Something curious and strange.

"Hajime,look." She points out the window. "It's everywhere." And perhaps it is a silly thing to ask but she inquires anyhow, "how do we walk through it?"

"Like you walk anywhere else?" He quirks a brow.

"But in the Water Tribes...I've heard that there is special equipment used to navigate the snow."

He laughs, "the snow isn't that deep here!" He opens the door and gestures for her to exit.

"It's cold." She complains. Even under her winter wools, she finds herself shivering. And here Atsu goes, dashing out into the winter with no coat at all.

"Git back in here!" Hajime calls. "I tol' you last year 'bout going outside without a coat!"

Atsu comes to a halt, the magic of the morning coming to an abrupt pause with him. " But dad!"

"You need to help Rikka get dressed, she never had to wear a winter clothes before."

This seems to allure the boy and with a wide and gleeful grin he darts back into the house. "Hurry up and put your coat and gloves on, Rikka! We have to build snow people and throw balls of snow at each other and…" he chucks a coat and a pair of gloves at her--Hajime's she assumes based upon the size of them.

Azula stuffs her fingers into the gloves. Only one layer doesn't seem sufficient but another layer or two seems to aggravatingly restrict her finger movements and if she is going to destroy Hajime and Atsu at this snowball war, she is going to need a full range of movement from her fingers.

She steps out into the snow, she hears it sift beneath her weight. So far everything is going accordingly, there is no ice to land her on the ground.she deduces that, in most places, the snow only reaches up to her ankles which is, though an inconvenience, manageable enough. But she can't imagine that running from enemy fire will be as easy. She supposes that if she needs a speedy getaway she can just melt some of the snow and listen to Atsu screech about her cheating. Perhaps she would feel more guilty over it if Atsu weren't a merciless little brute. He does not wait for her to assemble her protective mound of snow before bombarding her with an onslaught of tightly packed snow.

"Gotcha!" He whoops with each hit that she fails to evade. It would seem that while she was assessing her surroundings he hand been stockpiling an extensive artillery.

"Geez, Atsu, show mercy, this is her first snowball fight." Hajime chuckles from his spot on the porch.

It is a nice thought but Atsu, the feral beast, knows nothing of mercy. He tosses snowball after snowball. She manages to create only one but before she can throw it, Atsu fires another shot. And this one sails directly down the front of her shirt. She feels it slide from her chest to her belly leaving her with a full body shudder as itself away. She had dropped her snowball. Never in her life has she felt anything quite like it; uncomfortable and somewhat biting but I'm a way that wasn't exactly painful.

She tosses a pathetically pleading glance to Hajime who throws his head back in a howling laugh. "Alright, alright." He gets to his feet and steps out into the battlefield.

"Uh oh…" Atsu mumbles, he is now we'll aware that he should have built himself a snow fortress. Azula gives him a smug smile as she lifts a new snowball.

"Uh oh." He repeats as her very second snowball sails right into his face.

Maybe she should feel guilty over it but he isn't crying and he brushes it right off. And besides, she is certain that he was aiming for her face the whole time anyways, he simply didn't have the arm strength to land any hits higher than chest level.

And by the end of the hour she is almost embarrassed by how satisfied she feels to have beaten a child at a children's game. Any tickles of shame are washed away by Atsus delightful giggles. His enthusiastic, "wait until Caihong and Kim get here! We'll kick yer butts until you don't have butts no more!"

People have bestowed upon her many threats. But none have been quite like that.

That day she learns that Atsu is very much a little shit and that, likely, she will never truly shake her competitive nature.

.oOo.

She has been to plenty of awkward dinners but the silence of this one is so thick that it is dizzying. She can’t help but notice the way that Sokka twiddles his thumbs and looks in every direction but his father’s and Katara’s. It occurs to her that he is ashamed of her. Is embarrassed to be seen with her. She supposes that it is a good thing that the snow storm has picked up too strongly to go for a stroll through the village. She can only imagine what sort of looks she will get from everyone else. A firebender...the princess among people who the Fire Nation has displaced and nearly destroyed. She is everything that they detest and she supposes that Sokka has every right to be embarrassed by that. Embarrassed in the same way that she had been to parade him around the Fire Nation at first.

“Aren’t you going to say anything, dad?”

The man gives something between a hum and a sigh, “I’m trying to figure out what to say.” Hakoda looks at her. His face isn’t as steely with stubbornness as Katara’s.

Azula stares at her palms. She should take her mittens off. But any little motion will draw too much attention. Not that Katara's resentful gaze has left her since she got to the table. She wants to have a taste of her seaweed stew but she is already mildly nauseous with nervousness and the scent of the stew doesn't exactly kindle her appetite.

"Just talk to her for a bit, dad, you'll like her." Sokka promises.

The flutters in her tummy intensify that much more. She wishes that he wouldn't make promises that even he isn't certain of.

"She likes history and strategizing just like you do and…"

"And she used it to foil our invasion and get him sent to the Boiling Rock." Katara folds her arms across her chest.

Azula cringes to herself, truth be told, she had forgotten about that. Comparatively speaking, it seemed much less profound than some of her other misdeeds.

"Yeah well she's done a lot of changing since then." Sokka insists. “See, she even has the redemption haircut!”

“The what?” Azula finally speaks up.

“Yeah, Zuko said he cut his hair before joining us and now look at him, he’s happy--but in a grumpy old man sort of way, he’s a good friend, and he’s got long flowing tresses.”

Azula rolls her eyes. She isn’t sure if she wants to slug the man to death right in front of his father and sister or if she finds his recant amusing. She supposes that it would ruin her chances to make amends of she murdered Sokka now. “It wasn’t a redemption haircut I had matted hair and, maybe, lice.” Ji-Zhang had only mentioned it being matted. She supposes if she had lice that they would have shaved…

“Azula.” Sokka manages to cut through her comfort musings. Granted her musings weren’t at all pleasant but her inner monologue very much beats the external alternative.

She realizes that Hakoda has extended his hand. It is far less formal than a bow but she will take what she can get. He gives her hand a shake. “I’m Hakoda.”

“Sokka told me that, already. And he has already told you my name.”

Sokka flushes, “you’re supposed to introduce yourselves to each other.” And then he turns to his father, “she’s still working on the whole having a normal conversation thing. It runs in the family.”

“I can have a normal conversation just fine.” She folds her arms and holds her head high.

“Well it’s...interesting to formally meet you, Azula.”

“Dad!” Katara says sharply. “She’s not a part of this family. I don’t care how much Sokka likes her.”

“Come on Katara.”

“Don’t ‘come on Katara’ me! You’re the one trying to welcome her into the Water Tribe.”

“I get it, this is for the whole Jet thing isn’t it.”

This time Katara blushes.

“Who is Jet?” Azula furrows her brows.

“Yes, who is Jet?” Hakoda agrees.

“You don’t know about Jet?” Sokka asks at the same time as Katara says, “you weren’t supposed to tell him about Jet!”

“Jet’s just some jerk that flooded a whole village full of kids. To drive out some Fire Nation soldiers.”

“Gaipan?”

“Yeah.” Sokka nods. “You know about that.”

Azula returns the nod. “We lost a few soldiers there. There were noble men and women.” She pauses. “Stubborn too. They might have been alright if they fled with the rest of the village but…”

“Firebenders and their pride.” Hakoda clicks his tongue.

She wants to call the man on his generalization but frankly she hasn’t met a firebender yet who didn’t value pride. And maybe that is why it is so hard for her to apologize to Katara and Hakoda. Though she isn’t certain that she particularly needs to apologize to Hakoda--he had led an invasion to defeat her father. He had encroached on her land. It was her duty to see those plans foiled. Though pointing that out probably won’t serve her too well.

“Can you give her a chance, Katara? I gave Jet a chance.”

“No you didn’t. You were protesting and whining the whole time.”

“And I ended up being right.”

“So will I.” With those three words, she storms out into the snow.

“That went flawlessly.” Azula grumbles.

“Just give her some time, she’ll come around when she realizes that you’re actually kind of a really sweet person.”

“I will set everything you love on fire…”

“You just like to pretend that you aren’t.” And to Hakoda he mutters, “It’s part of the firebender pride thing. You can’t let anyone know that you’re nice.” He slings an arm over her shoulder and pulls her in closer.

Azula sighs, it is going to be a long, long vacation or whatever in the spirits’ name she could call this.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

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tiaragqueen · 4 years

Text

I Swear on My Life

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Pro Hero! Iida Tenya x Waitress! Reader

✂ Word Count: 954

✂ Trigger Warnings: Possessiveness, implied confinement

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“It's still far from love in this one sided crush; my nervousness becomes sadness. It's still far from love, it doesn't reach you.” - Pera Pera Perao [Not yet]

Who would’ve thought that the strict, high-strung Iida could fall victim to the silly ‘love at first sight’ thing?

Iida didn’t understand it, either. It wasn’t as though he was incapable of loving someone, but the romance was quite far in his mind right now. After all, he belonged to the famous Tenya family and he couldn’t afford to smear their name in the slightest. He’d known his responsibilities and the risks, and he’d accepted them wholeheartedly.

But even he wouldn’t deny that the hero's life could be quite lonely sometimes.

Wealth, fame, and reputation meant nothing if there was nobody to greet him when he went home. Not to mention, his mother had been dropping hints about her wish to hold her grandchildren. His brother wasn’t very supportive, either. He kept teasing him about his relationship status, saying that out of everyone else, he might be the only one who would be single forever. And there was nothing Iida could do other than smile sheepishly and nod, because what should he answer? He hadn’t found someone suitable yet, and his job was simply too dangerous for both civilians and heroes alike.

They knew it, but that didn’t mean he had to resign himself into solitude for eternity, right? They were certain that he’d find that perfect someone someday; a woman who could brighten his day with a mere smile and guide him through the bad days.

And when he looked at your beaming face, Iida wondered if he’d finally found that ‘perfect someone’. That, maybe, it wasn’t just wishful thinking on their part.

“Here’s your order.” you chirped, bending slightly to put his espresso on the table. “I hope you enjoy it!”

Oh, he’d enjoy it alright. Seeing you bounded towards the kitchen was a treat in itself, not that you’d know about it. How could he be smitten by a mere waitress? Has he been consumed by loneliness too much until he fell for a stranger?

Clearing his throat, Iida grasped the handle of the cup and sipped the murky liquid. No, of course not. There was no way he loved you. It was illogical to develop feelings so quickly, and it wasn’t as if you’d talked to each other beyond common courtesy, either.

It was just a crush, he reassured himself. A silly, little crush that would surely disappear with time.

However, the reality wasn’t so kind. Well, maybe not to you. It was a week after the meeting when Iida heard a shriek in an alleyway. Naturally, as a hero, he’d swoop in and save the person. But when he caught the face of the victim, he froze.

He froze in the middle of his duty; something that he’d trained himself to not do. And, as a result, the thief managed to slash your cheek when you reached out to retrieve your purse.

But to Iida, it felt like a blow to the gut.

“How dare you…!”

Letting out an uncharacteristic yell that startled the both of you, Iida rushed forward and effortlessly kicked the thief in the head. The latter toppled from the abrupt strike, dropping your purse in the process. And yet, Iida kept beating him mercilessly despite the cries and groans that left his busted lips. It was only when you grabbed his arm and begged him to stop did Iida finally snap out of his fury.

“Stop it, Ingenium! He’s passed out now, so please stop beating him!” you exclaimed.

Iida breathed heavily, trying to regain his bearing and dignity. To think that the strict Iida would explode in front of a civilian… His family must be ashamed to have someone like him.

“… I’m sorry.” he murmured, head hanging low as he stewed over his ‘failure’. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you fast enough. I’m sorry I blew up in front of you. It was… it was shameful of me.”

Frowning, you crouched beside him.

“What are you talking about? You did save me. Isn’t it enough? And of course, you’d be angry if you saw someone hurting others. I would feel that, too. So please don’t hate yourself, okay? Look!” You snatched your purse from the ground and waved it in front of his face. “My purse is safe now, and it’s all thanks to you!”

Iida stared at your patient smile, trying to gauge whether you were telling the truth or not. There was nothing he hated more than being pitied, especially from strangers. But, somehow, it didn’t feel as though you were pitying him. No, instead, it felt like you were trying to cheer him up.

… How nice of you to do that. He truly had met his ‘perfect someone’, huh?

“Y-yes, you’re right. Thank you… for the support.”

And you were right; anyone would be angry if they saw someone hurting others.

Which was why he needed to protect you, so nobody would be able to harm you anymore.

“If… it’s not too much for you, would you like to visit my house? I can tend to your wound.”

You blinked owlishly, surprised by the sudden invitation. “Oh, you don’t have to! It’s just a small–”

“Please!” he bellowed, bowing his head to emphasize his sincerity. “It’s the least I can do to fix my mistake. So please allow me to heal you!”

Silence ensued for a moment before you sighed wearily. “Well, okay then. If you insist…”

Iida looked up to you and smiled. “Don’t worry! I’ll take utmost consideration of you, I swear on my life!” he declared.

Indeed, you didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. Because as long he was still alive, he’d protect every inch of your being.

After all, he’d sworn on his life.

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crimsonrae · 3 years

Text

Disintegration

Chapter Four

Summary: He witnessed the worst night of her life, he just never expected for her to become the love of his life.

KlausxCami

Rating: Mature

A/N: So, I'm starting to delve into Marnie a bit - sorry her point of view seems erratic, but at the same time that's what I was going for... She's recovering from a concusion, untangling herself from a horrible relationship, and discovering that maybe her nightmares are over with yet. She's a little manic. More of Cami and some of her internal musing/recovering. Please don't hesitate to give feedback. I love hearing from you guys. Please read and enjoy.

Chapter Four

2009

The dean would have to excuse his quick departure. He had files to read, a woman to woo, another to find, and a curse to break after all.

If Klaus had paid more attention to his surroundings when he had been at the university then he would have been able to shorten his list by an item of one. Hell, he would have been able to shorten it before he had even set foot into the dean's office.

By the time he left his opportunity had been lost. Not that he was aware of an opportunity in the first place.

Timing had never been Marnie Taylor's thing. She had been born a week late and as her mother would say... she had been late to everything ever since. Usually, her knack for running out the clock was a fault. An irritation for those waiting on her, an inconvenience when she was trying to accomplish anything, but she firmly believed that for a few moments where she stood in the courtyard outside the doors that led to the lobby of the dean's office, it had been her saving grace.

Students moved past her, ignoring her presence as they made their way to class while she remained frozen stiff on the pathway. Her dark eyes had stared through the glass doors with a bemused intensity.

"...coffee, Mr. Mikaelson?"

Ms. Lankam's soft voice had carried startlingly far as the doors had swung briefly open to allow another administrator to exit. It had caused Marnie to glance up curiously as she shuffled down the pathway, hoping that her tardiness hadn't caused her to miss Camille.

Despite her abrupt exit from the hospital and subsequent purposeful loss of her phone, Marnie had still managed to hear whispers of what had occurred between her roommate and her boyfriend – ex-boyfriend... Ex.

She had to swallow convulsively against the spike of anxiety that skewered her heart and remind herself that Scott was miles away in a hospital bed if the rumors were accurate. It was why she needed to be here because if those rumors were true then Cami was in danger of losing everything because of her. She couldn't let her best friend and self-appointed protector lose her standing as a student, much less anything else. She needed to speak with the dean and at least try to straighten out some of this mess. After all, she had helped create it.

Sickening guilt swarmed through her stomach as she remembered the multitude of times that Cami had begged her to seek help. She should have listened. A dull thrum of pain laced up her side from her mending ribs as if in agreement.

Yet, no amount of guilt nor pain could make her move as her eyes landed on Mr. Mikaelson.

He had turned to the side in apparent boredom – his appearance in itself wasn't startling. In fact, he was rather handsome, not that Marnie had time to truly take note of his attractiveness. She was too distracted by the sudden awareness of something supernatural.

A prickling of the hair at the nape of her neck, an undercurrent of something powerful and ominous that made the air heavier... imbued with something dark, wrong - unnatural.

A vampire.

She had seen vampires rarely in her short life. She had been warned of them, told to stay away by those far older and wiser than herself. It was impossible to be raised by a witch, by a coven, and not know of the other supernatural entities that lingered in the world. She had never been able to get past the sense of wrong the few times she had been in a vampire's presence. As if someone had taken a sheet of sandpiper to scrape along her skin. The entire experience was abrasive and irritating.

But she had never felt it this strongly before... she wasn't even standing in the same room as him. Still a good fifty feet away. Even his name prodded at the recesses of her memory. He was important, but she couldn't remember precisely why.

He seemed to sense her as he started to turn toward the doors and Marnie felt her heart lurch to her throat in fear. Yet, she was saved at the last second by her roommate once again.

She blinked as Cami exit Shaln's office with her parents and was taken by surprise a second time as Cami approached the vampire with unflinching familiarity.

It made Marnie want to scream, to warn her friend away. However, as she moved toward the door, she caught Camille's strong voice as she mentioned the monster's given name, "Klaus - what?"

Klaus...

Klaus Mikaelson?

Horror grew into an avalanching pit within her gut as her memory found the relevance of his name. Niklaus Mikaelson, an Original.

She deftly staggered out of sight as her mind whirled, confusion bespelled her mind as she watched the brief exchange between Cami and Klaus. The press of his lips to her cheek, her subsequent pleased blush before her mother ushered her away.

How did Cami know an Original? Was she aware of what he was?

Despite three years of living together, Marnie suddenly felt uncertain about her friend. Had Camille known about the supernatural world all along? Had she known about Marnie being a witch?

The quieter, more rational part of her knew that she was missing several key pieces of information. That Cami – sweet, fierce Cami – knew nothing about her world... though she had the lingering impression that was all about to change. But the rational part of Marnie wasn't in control – hadn't been in control for quite a few days now.

And so, she found herself torn. Not sure if she should confront her friend and make her aware – if she wasn't already- of who and what exactly Klaus Mikaelson was and pull her to safety as Cami had tried so valiantly to do with her or if she should run. Because after everything, the last thing Marnie needed was to add an Original into her vast stew of problems.

Shaking from her unease, Marnie tugged her sweater tighter around her fragile frame and disappeared amongst the student body.

__________________________

"You know... you're not supposed to get into trouble without me? It's in the twin code."

Camille's head snapped up from her suitcase as she stepped into her family home. An exuberant smile painted her lips as she caught sight of a familiar pair of stormy eyes, "Sean! What are you doing here?"

"My sister gets arrested, and you think I'm just going to while away reading scripture?" Amusement coated her brother's mien lifting Camille's dampened spirits. He opened his arms for a hug and she all but fell into his embrace. She had missed her pain-in-the-ass brother – she really could have used his company the past few days. He tightened his arms around her in silent comfort as he whispered, "How are you doing, really?"

Cami pulled away with a grimace as she tried not to look too miserable, "Oh you know, I made a few new friends – one's named Bubba. Apparently, his sister is doing five to ten, but she'd be able to show me the ropes if I'm ever inside the pokey."

"I hear it's good to have an inside man – well, woman." Sean fought back a grin as he pointedly kept his gaze from flickering to the door where their mother was entering. It would only invite a weary retort as she was unamused by her children's words, "Hi mom."

"Hello dear." Vivian brushed a kiss to her son's cheek in greeting. As happy as she was to see Sean the morning had worn on her just as much as it had Camille, "I need an iced tea. Would you two like one?'

"Ac;tual iced tea?" Sean asked tentatively, as he caught his sister's eye.

"Long Island, dear." Vivian declared almost reproachfully. Camille smirked as she mouthed the words that her mother was about to speak, "Tea leaves should never be brewed cold."

"I'm good, mom." Sean intoned quietly as Cami iterated much the same. Vivian waved a dismissive hand before sauntering away for the sitting room.

Cami huffed a soft laugh as she watched her mother disappear. Another sign of much-needed normal, "Seriously, you didn't have to come all the way home for this. I'm sure you had better things to do."

He shrugged, "Please, I wouldn't miss counting the different shades Dad will turn for anything in the world. Has he reached that angry maroon yet?"

"Stop it." She murmured with a faint grin as she looked behind her to see if their parents had lingered. Callan was still outside it seemed, "I thought he was going to bash the Dean's skull in this morning. The whole experience has been mortifying... but you are now officially the saintly child with a delinquent for a sister. It'll make your sermons even more interesting when you finally get ordained."

"If I even get there." Sean murmured almost bitterly.

It was a tone Cami didn't hear from him all too often and it had her frowning in concern, "Has something happened?"

Sean shook his head in mild dismissal, "Nothing worth mentioning really. Don't worry about it, Cam. I think one twin having a crisis at a time is all the world can handle right now."

"Sean..." She quietly implored, but he rebuffed her again.

Cami found his reticence a little annoying, but not out of character. Sean wouldn't come to her until he was ready to, but that didn't mean she wouldn't nag at him until then. She considered it her big sister prerogative... even if she was only two minutes older.

He derailed the questions pressing on the tip of her tongue as his gaze moved back to the walkway with an inquisitive expression, "Is that Ian?"

She glanced back to see her boyfriend bringing the rest of her belongings in from the car and smiled faintly. He had been waiting for her outside her dorm-like he had promised her. She hadn't been sure that he would show. Things had been a little tense between them since she had called him on the way out of the jailhouse and she just hadn't had the time to pick apart where all this uneasiness between them was coming from; if it was her and she was projecting onto him? Or if he had a problem with the entire fiasco and just was withholding it from her... Cami wasn't sure and frankly, she really didn't have the energy or focus to figure it out with him.

Yet, this morning it was like nothing was wrong between them. He had greeted her with a soft kiss that warmed her veins and soothed her nerves. Had frowned when she had told him about the expulsion, but much to his credit had merely wrapped her in a tight hug before asking what exactly she needed him to do. It made her think that she had simply been projecting her insecurities unfairly onto him because something about their relationship hadn't been right for the past few days and Cami couldn't put her finger on what.

A small voice whispered that she did know, at least one small part of the issue, as an image of darkly amused cerulean eyes glimmered in her mind, and she had to shake off a twinge of guilt.

She was being ridiculous. Nothing had happened. She had done nothing wrong.

But maybe that was the problem. Something inside her wanted to do something wrong because beating the crap out of Scott hadn't felt wrong. And she hated that, and she hated that Klaus had seen that in her.

...but let's be honest here, love, while I may have enjoyed your spirited attack, you enjoyed committing it more.

She had enjoyed it and maybe... maybe doing something she knew was wrong – would feel wrong – maybe then she could feel justifiably punished for how much she had reveled in bruising her knuckles on that bastard's face.

Now that... that was not what she wanted to think about. Silently, she placed the thought of the beguiling Klaus Mikaelson back into his box and locked the lid. It was tempting to blame him for all her current relationship woes, but the truth was she was in a vulnerable state. She didn't want to acknowledge that she hadn't felt like herself in days and she refused to let a brief interlude with a stranger affect her... well, just affect her.

"Yes." She said abruptly realizing that Sean was looking at her strangely, she had been quiet for too long. She shook off her daze with a chagrined smile, "Yeah, apparently Christmas with the O'Connell's wasn't enough to make him run for the hills."

Sean snorted as he thought of the trial by fire their parents liked to put Cami's boyfriends through. Ian had held up remarkably well at Christmas he remembered and by the vague twitch of his lips, Ian was thinking of it too. Sean's grin grew, "I'll have to ask him which experience was worse. Dealing with our parents at the holidays or during a crisis."

"Christmas. I'm not under the microscope this time" Ian said soundly as he placed a box of her things against a wall.

"So, you think." Sean stated wryly as he reached a hand out in greeting, "Hey man, it's good to see you again."

Ian grasped the proffered limb with a quick nod, "You too. You going to be out here long or is this just a quick check-in?"

Sean shrugged, "Not sure. I'll be here for at least a week. Exams are coming up and I suppose I'll have to return for those."

There it was again. A shift of something disgruntled in her brother's expression. Usually, only their father could bring that look to Sean's face and Cami found herself frowning again, "You suppose?"

He shrugged, "I will. I think I'm just a bit burnt out. It's a good thing the end of the semester is so close."

"Tell me about it." Ian agreed with a commiserating groan, "If I have to look at one more graph on emerging markets, my brain is going to explode."

Camille rolled her eyes as she listened to their whines, "At least you guys will get to finish your year. I don't even know how this semester will reflect on my records."

Ian frowned at the reminder of her expulsion. He quickly laced his fingers through her as he tried to gently cajole, "Come on, you know Shaln was blustering. I bet you're back in class next Monday."

Sean nodded his agreement, "There's no way that mom is going to let any of this go and with the way dad is pacing with his phone right now, I wouldn't be surprised if he's calling every lawyer he knows to make this go away."

A sickening stone settled into the bottom of Camille's gut as she peered around her brother through the still-open door. And sure enough, there was Callan, burrowing a path into the front lawn. He was already the angry maroon color that Sean had been anticipating. A dull thrum began to spike up her neck at the sight... There would be no end to this day.

"Great." She murmured under her breath, "Mom's already spoken with Aunt Patrice and Uncle Fred. Apparently, she got them to agree to withdraw funding to the school. Shaln about had an aneurysm when she mentioned it."

"Damn... mom works fast."

While Patrice and Fred weren't actually blood relatives, they had been close family friends for so long that they may as well have been part of the larger O'Connell brood. Camille wasn't sure why it had surprised her so much that they were already aware of the latest family scandal. Maybe it was because Vivian usually played things close to the vest.

She missed the shared looked between her boyfriend and brother as she stared distractedly at her father. Both were concerned over the lines of tension and stress creasing her expression.

Sean took the lead as he nudged her, "Have I mentioned how badass it is that you took an abuser in hand? Cuz I'm pretty sure that it makes you a superhero."

"Definitely, Wonder Womanesque." Ian chimed with a faint smile. In truth, he had been at a loss on how to comfort Camille. She was usually very upfront about what she was thinking and feeling – she would tell him what she needed... but she had shut herself off from everyone. A wall had been erected, and he wasn't sure how to approach this withdrawn version of his girlfriend. Waiting for her to come to him had become his default option... and it seemed to be failing. It was a relief to let Sean take over.

"No way. Cami's too blonde for Wonder Woman. I think more Warbird." Sean disagreed as he smirked at his sister.

Ian's eyes lit up, "Carol Danvers? Hell yeah – I can get behind that."

Camille could only shake her head in disbelief, "Wow, this turned into a nerdfest really quick."

Yet, there was no hiding the glint of amusement behind her befuddlement, and that was all the boys had been aiming for as they tried to coax her into a better mood.

"There is nothing wrong with appreciating a strong female character. They're hot." Ian argued with a sly grin as he briefly tightened his hand over hers, "There's no denying you're a strong female which can only mean-"

"Uggh, I'm not listening anymore." Sean gagged exaggeratedly as he started to wander away from the blatant flirting display that he was currently witnessing, "I agree by the way. Not that you're hot – but yeah... strong woman."

Camille couldn't stop her snicker at the boys antics, "Where are you going?"

"I don't know, Wally's? You guys coming?" He called as he twirled his car keys around his finger.

Camille shared a glance with Ian as Sean waited down by his car. She didn't really want to go out. She had wanted to curl up in bed and shut the world away since she woke up that morning, but life had other ideas. At the same time, curling up in her bedroom at home and not at her dorm held less of an appeal. Sooner or later, she would have to have another painful round of discussions with her parents and figure out what her next steps would be. Being home assured that conversation happening sooner, especially as Vivian had espoused a few ideas in the car already.

Staying home seemed more tedious than necessary and Cami supposed that it wasn't exactly healthy to hide herself away, "I want to go out... but no bars. I've had my fill of them lately."

Ian smiled and nodded his head, "How about bowling? Think we could convince your brother?"

It was an odd suggestion and Cami had to raise her brow, "Bowling?"

"Well, its one sport you can still drink and perform with little effort. Plus, the added bonus of being able to throw a big rock ball at something without people saying you have anger issues." He explained lightly.

It was slightly inane how much allure that last bit held for Camille.

And ultimately, it's what won her over. She didn't regret her choice as she tugged on the used shoes offered by the alley twenty minutes later.

She procured a midnight-blue ball with shimmering specs; it was understated next to the flaming pinks and luminescent greens, but it felt comfortable in her hand. Ian had found a garish orange one that reminded her of Mars as it swirled into different shades while Sean had found one that reminded her of the candy jawbreakers, they would get from the corner market as kids. She was struck by a sense of surrealness. Hours ago she was ready to shut the world away, now she was leaning in to play a game.

Cami shook her head and took her place up at the end of the lane. She gazed for a long moment at the strangely ethereally glowing pins – it was as if the brightness was mocking her. It was stupid, but she took that moment to alter those ten pins in her mind. No longer were these pieces merely glossy-shaped plastic-covered wood, but every negative emotion she had been feeling.

Pin One – worry. Worry for Marnie, for her future, for herself.

Pin Two – rage. Rage at Scott and any person who was like him. Rage at the unfairness of everything. Rage for what she could not control.

Pin Three – confusion. Confusion over how quickly she had snapped. Confusion for Klaus and the odd calm he brought her...even as he annoyed her. Confusion for why that had her questioning her relationship with Ian.

She drew a long breath.

Pin Four – uncertainty. Uncertain of why she was so hesitant to let anyone in... let Ian in.

Pin Five – resignation. Resignation with Shaln, resignation with the fact that she could not go back and change...anything.

Cami pulled her arm back and lined her thumb to the middle arrow painted on the planks below her.

Pin Six –stress. Stress with...everything.

Pin Seven – frustration. Frustrated with being unable to understand herself. Unreasonably frustrated with every person she came into contact with... she was so sick of all the bullshit.

The ball slid from her palm and collided with a deliciously dull thunk to the ground before the rolling glide of smooth stone against polished wood echoed like a helical wave in her ear.

Pin Eight – fear. Fear of what the next days would bring, of how much she wanted to finish what she had started in that bar.

Pin Nine – sadness. Sadness of losing a part of herself that she had not even realized was there to lose.

The clatter of the final impact was like an abrupt roar of applause as those gleaming pins toppled with erratic swivels. All her pessimism gone in one fell swoop.

Yet one pin held strong – tilted and swiveled, teasing its fall before soundly settling on its bottom once more.

Cami blinked in curious astonishment at the ten pin. Of all the pins to remain standing, it had to be one pin she had assigned no negative emotion.

Pin Ten – hope. Hope that everything would be okay.

A beatific smile swept across her lips as she stared. For the first time in days a lightness swept over her, and she was actually able to let the small gleam of hope that had shrouded her every step, blossom a little fuller.

She may not have smiled if she had known about the dark-haired man observing her from the snack bar. No, Cami wouldn't have been smiling at all to know she had gained a stalker that day... but Maddox was nothing if not obedient to his master.

Previous Chapter

#Disintegration #klaus mikaelson #The Originals #fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #Camille O'Connell #klaus x camille #klamille

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norrrington · 4 years

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so this is a somewhat half-baked thought and i could be completely concocting this in my mind or projecting my tragic norribeth feelings onto nothing, but we all know and agree that will and elizabeth’s misunderstanding in AWE about her kissing jack was narratively uninteresting and was drawn out for no other reason than to sow tension (in a movie that’s already the cinematic equivalent of a pressure cooker).

however, though james and elizabeth only interact briefly in AWE, their misunderstanding over her father’s death and james’ perceived involvement in / knowledge of it is considerably more compelling because it places their increasingly divergent character arcs at a crossroads: elizabeth—fiercely independent and now fully allied with pirates—is relentlessly loyal, headstrong and righteous as ever, and will do whatever it takes to protect her crew, even when it comes at the expense of sacrificing the one to protect the many (hint hint end of DMC). alternatively, james—who has always been defined by his loyalty, most often to the crown / his men—surrendered his integrity the moment he gave the heart to beckett, and though he’s not directly responsible for the atrocities the latter carries out, he is complicit, and what was once an allegiance to service and protection is now a largely unquestioning loyalty to a ruthlessly selfish man who will stop at nothing to further his agenda.

what’s important to me in the grand scheme of this ramble is how the conflicts between will & elizabeth and james & elizabeth differ in their execution and resolution: will confronts elizabeth about this below decks; they hash it out in esoteric terms; skirting around what each really wants to say, only to end in elizabeth storming off and will left to stew in the muddiness of it all. it’s never spoken about explicitly, and their subsequent interactions are stiff and hostile until their somewhat abrupt (but iconic) wedding scene.

on the other hand, james joyously embraces elizabeth, proclaiming his relief that she’s alive; elizabeth rebuffs him, furious and hurt that the man she probably least expected to ever hurt or betray her has now done so in the most unfathomable way; james swears he did not have any knowledge of it; elizabeth sneers her disbelief and rejects his offering of his quarters to her; james ultimately frees her and her crew and eventually dies protecting her, etc.

the key distinction to me is how quickly elizabeth seems to... maybe not forgive, but at the very least understand james, even if part of her inviting him to come with her was to rehash this issue at a later time (i’m kidding... kind of). with elizabeth and will, as @theflamehallow has so expertly pointed out in this post, “we have to drag this through another movie until she eventually is like ‘okay, WHAT DIID I DO?’ And even after Will finds out the reasoning he’s not any less angry”. yet with elizabeth and james, the conflict is stated outright and immediately, no holds barred. sure, it could be argued that the efficiency of this arc is due to the writers wanting to expedite it, but i see it as more important than that, particularly as it speaks to the dynamic of james and elizabeth’s relationship. elizabeth has no qualms letting james know what she thinks or how she feels because they know each other (perhaps james more elizabeth than vice versa): elizabeth has known james and will for roughly the same length of time, yet she and james communicate far more lightly and easily, which we see glimpses of in DMC (and would’ve seen more of had they not cut those crucial scenes), and i would even go so far as to venture that this comfortability is partly due to the fact that elizabeth knows that james’ response to conflict isn’t to be reactionary, thus forcing her on the offense, but rather to attempt to hear her, which we don’t see much of with will and elizabeth.

i don’t know. it’s not my intention to disparage will, elizabeth, or their relationship—i love them both dearly—and there’s a much bigger conversation that could be had about how and why will and elizabeth handle conflicts the way they do, but i think there’s certainly something to be said for the strength of james and elizabeth’s dynamic through the lens of how they confront and resolve disagreements or misunderstandings (and i would’ve taken a three and a half hour movie just to keep the deleted scenes that further showed this).

#james norrington #elizabeth swann #will turner #it's bea-sim thoughts hour apparently!#this is SO long i'm sorry

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falcon-eye · 4 years

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So I’ve been writing on my phone and this one almost made me lose my shit because when initially hitting “copy” I accidentally hit “paste” and deleted the entire fucking thing. Thank GOD gmail keeps a copy of your notes. Holy shit.

Again made for @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU

Veko and Eloise’s domestic adventures continue! I’m so happy people actually like them! I’ve grown so close to them both. This will be part of their bigger story, because since I’ve been writing on my phone they’ve been really small and when I expound on them I want to add more details before all this, like about Veko and Hamra and all that. So consider these teasers I guess? That’s why the endings feel so abrupt. Or that’s the excuse I keep telling myself. I don’t know. But when I finally post everything it will be on AO3, and I may put these little ficlets on AO3 as a fic as well.

Anyway hope you enjoy this one! Veko and Eloise return!

——————

The next time Veko saw Eloise was just as bizarre as the first. Except this time, she ended up helping him as opposed to him saving her father again. It was, somehow, even more awkward.

It was a few weeks of a full year later. What was supposed to just be one kikimora turned into a while nest, and despite this, the alderman barely wanted to pay him what he said he would for the one kill, let alone a whole cluster of them. He wouldn’t even let Veko inside. Luckily it had almost literally just stopped raining. But it was getting to the point where Veko was having to take a few calming breaths between the arguing; the alderman was a miserable prick, but Veko didn’t want to snap on the guy.

“You take what I give ye an’ be done with it!” the alderman shouted, reaching for the dagger at his belt. “Or you’ll get no coin and—“

“Husband!” a woman’s voice rang out. Veko and the alderman jumped; fucking rain and yelling, making Veko’s senses dull. A small force practically ran into him from the side and wrapped a hand around his elbow. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Uh—“

“Eloise!” the alderman exclaimed. Oh shit, that’s where Veko knew her from! “Nothing t’ worry about, this Witcher was jus’ leaving.”

Eloise turned to Veko, pressing closer. “You were?” she asked, faking concern to apparently Veko’s ears only. “But darling, you just got here!”

Veko’s mind went totally blank. “Hello?” he said dumbly.

The alderman’s eyes narrowed. “What?” he hissed. “Eloise, this man—“

“Is my beloved,” Eloise cut in. The alderman’s mouth shut with an audible click. “Last year, don’t you remember? The Witcher that saved my father from those drowners!”

Veko continued to stare at her.

“But—“ the alderman stammered.

“Now what’s with all this shouting over here?” Eloise barreled on.

“I sent this Witcher here to kill the kikimora roamin’ about,” the alderman said.

Eloise gave Veko’s arm a little shake to snap him back into the conversation. “I, uh,” he stammered. “It wasn’t just one. There was a whole nest.”

Eloise clapped a hand over her mouth and gasped dramatically. “A whole nest!” she exclaimed, drawing the attention of the townspeople nearby. “My goodness! I’m so glad it’s been taken care of! Oh, Lennart, I don’t know what we would have done had a whole nest of those beasts descended upon the town!”

People were starting to whisper. The alderman—Lennart’s heart rate sped up. “Oh, well yes, I, eh, was good indeed.” He looked like he was trying to both glare at Veko and keep the shock of Eloise’s outburst off his face at the same time—and failing.

Eloise finally let go of Veko and took the alderman’s hands. “Do you need help with the coin?” she asked innocently. “For the additional kikimora? I know things have been difficult since Nora left—“

“I can handle it!” Lennart exclaimed, eyes darting around at the growing mass of people who’d come to hear about the monsters. The alderman patted Eloise’s hands and laughed nervously. “I mean, that’s alright dear! I-I’ve plenty of coin for the Witcher here! Let me—I’ll go get it.”

Lennart raced back into his house and the crowd of people began to disperse, clearly boring of the now dwindling conversation. Veko was still not sure what the fuck just happened. But before he could ask, the alderman burst back outside and practically threw a pretty hefty sack of coin into Veko’s hands.

“Splendid!” Eloise exclaimed, and then turned to Veko one more. “Shall we go, darling?”

Veko nodded, letting himself be led away, once again, by this bizarre woman. But just before Lennart went back inside, Veko turned to him, held up the bag of coin, and winked. Lennart turned an ugly red and slammed the door behind him.

“Fucking weaselly prick,” Eloise hissed. Veko guffawed.

“Holy shit,” he said. “Where did you even come from? How did you find me? What—what the hell was that?!”

Eloise held up a hand and ticked answers off her fingers. “I was in town putting an order for paints in, saw your horse tied to a tree near the edge of town, and Lennart is a right prick but easy to exploit because of it. His wife Nora left a few weeks ago with some adventurer who came through town. She knew he’d been trying to bed any girl in sight and rightfully left.”

Veko pocketed the bag of coin. “Well I’m not going to complain,” he said.

Eloise tucked her hand into the crook of his arm again. “Are you planning on staying?” she asked. “Papa says it’s supposed to rain; he can feel it in his knees, he says.”

Veko started itching at his burns. “I, uh—“

“Right, coming with me then.”

Veko laughed again and Eloise guide the way.

——————————————————

For having apparently acquired Eloise and her home, this was the first time Veko had actually been inside. It was cozy, the walls painted a pale pink and yellow. The kitchen was warm and smelled amazing, Eloise having apparently left something cooking while she’d been out.

Peering into the next room, the apparent main room of the house, Veko found bottles of paints and an assortment of brushes set up at an easel against the far window (splattered in paint); blank canvases were piled behind it. But actually giving the room a look-around, his attention was immediately drawn to the walls lined floor to ceiling with the most beautiful paintings Veko had ever seen.

Landscapes of what Veko recognized as the local stream and the goat paddock out back, faces he didn’t recognize but could have started up a conversation with him with how real they looked, random assortments of everyday items put together to make some interesting structure—there was art everywhere.

Veko didn’t realize he was gaping until he heard Eloise chuckle. “Like what you see?” she asked.

“They’re amazing,” Veko replied, reaching towards a painting of a young boy.

“Don’t touch!” Eloise snapped; Veko jumped. “Sorry, sorry, they’re just—when they dry the colors fade of you touch them.”

“Sorry,” Veko said, shoving his hand into his pocket.

Eloise shook her head. “It’s always been a dream of mine to be a famous painter. Sometimes I get commissions or sell some in Oxenfurt. There’s a man who comes by to take them to market every now and then. Anyway, apparently my father went to bed early,” she said. “Stew?” Eloise chuckled. “I can paint a delicious meal but actually cooking it, eh...”

Now it was Veko’s turn to laugh. “I’d love some, whatever it tastes like,” he said. “And—thank you, for that shit with the alderman.”

Eloise waved him off. “Honestly? Bringing you up has been doing wonders around here,” she said.

As Veko sat down at the table, he remembered: “Did you call me husband?”

“How long ago was that and you’re just realizing that now?”

“In my defense, you came out of nowhere!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be this great warrior with heightened senses?”

Instead of answering, Veko leaned forward and smirked. “You think I’m great?”

Eloise stared at him for a moment before scoffing and shoveling a spoonful of soup into her mouth. “A great pain in my arse,” she said, “and you’ve only been here five minutes.”

“Might I remind you that you’re the one who dragged me here.”

“Yeah, because you looked like a bloody kicked puppy when I asked!”

“Kitten.”

Eloise blinked. “What?”

Veko tapped his medallion. “I’m from the School of the Cat, so I’d be a kitten.”

There was a moment of silence before Eloise let out a ‘PFFFT!’ and burst out laughing. “Did you really just—“

“I can leave right now!” Veko exclaimed, but there was no heat behind it. Eloise’s laugh was loud and hoarse, hardly ladylike or cute, but for some reason Veko liked hearing it. He wanted to hear it again.

Eloise wiped tears from her eyes. “Just eat your stew, Witcher,” she said.

“Veko,” Veko said. “My name is Veko.”

“Veko,” Eloise repeated, like she was getting used to how it sounded. “Nice to officially meet you, husband.”

Veko started scratching his burns. “Oh gods.”

Eloise smacked his hand like she’d done last year. “Stop doing that,” she snapped. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“I’ve had it for fifteen years; I don’t think it’s going to get worse.”

Eloise was quiet. “How—? Never mind.”

“No, it’s ok,” Veko reassured her. “My brother and I got into a fight. Or something. I can’t remember. But it was an accident, either way.”

“Is your brother also a Witcher?”

Veko nodded, having just stuffed his face with stew again. “Yah,” he said, his mouth full. He swallowed. “Identical twins, actually. Though my hair’s longer and he’s a bit bulkier than I am. His name’s Hamra.”

“Veko and Hamra,” Eloise said, “twin Cat Witchers, huh?”

“Yes ma’am,” Veko replied. Over the course of the meal, Veko explained the basics about the Cats and their caravan, how they worked and why they occasionally split up. Eloise, for her part, only asking questions when he’d finished a story and let him talk most of the conversation. Normally, talking is what Veko was used to, but both times he’d been with this woman she’d shocked him into silence. It was nice to be comfortable again.

Night settled quickly and when they finished their respective meals, Eloise took both their bowls to wash. “I’m going to set a cot up for you,” she said over her shoulder.

“What, no bed?” Veko teased.

“Other than my father's bed, there’s only one other and it’s mine,” Eloise replied.

“Not enough room for husband and wife?”

Eloise suddenly turned serious. Without even turning to him she said, “I’ll not bed you, Witcher.”

Veko held his hands up in surrender, even though her back was still turned. “Ok,” he said softly. “Just messing around, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you, truly.”

Eloise sighed deeply and finally turned to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just. I don’t want that. From anyone, ever. It’s—it’s hard to explain. Just thinking about... that... makes me... extremely uncomfortable.”

Veko nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I mean, I don’t, but I respect that.”

Eloise smiled. “Thank you,” she said.

“Is that why me being your husband is useful?” Veko asked; Eloise’s heart rate sped up. “I don’t have a problem with that!” he quickly assured her. “It’s just, last year you said something to that effect.”

Eloise looked him in the eye for a moment, maybe trying to assess if he was telling the truth? And then nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s no problem here,” Veko said. “Gods know I only really come through this area once a year. I could swing by to keep up appearances.”

“And I could help you bleed Lennart dry of all his coin.”

Veko smirked. “I like the way you think.”

Eloise smirked back. “I think this is going to be a very successful partnership.”

#the witcher #witcher oc #accidental warlord au #inexplicifics #falcon writes

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