#and also just the approaching emptiness of being soon to finish a project

[skitskatdacat63]

Where is the clip of Jense kissing the camera?????? ☹️ I could've swore it was from Brazil 2009, no?? No gifs for this race yet from me then :/

[ladymonterosa]

The thin line between love and hate

Second part: "Jordan"

26 september 2022

The classroom was now empty, and the only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning. I had just finished answering the endless questions from the new students, trying to appear patient and approachable. It felt like I had been in their shoes just yesterday, but in reality, a whole year had passed. Now, with the second year just beginning, my role as a technical assistant and my new ranking in the top 10, my life at God U was becoming increasingly intense.

My phone vibrated, interrupting my moment of quiet. A message from Professor Brink: "Jordan, please come to my office as soon as possible." I sighed, knowing I couldn't ignore such a request.

I made my way to his office as requested. Brink represents many things to me... a mentor, a guide, and one of the few who had believed in me from day one. He had seen something in me that others had yet to recognize. He had taken me under his wing, teaching me not only the complexities of the subject but also how to navigate the labyrinth of academia. I felt indebted to him, and perhaps for this reason, I was always willing to fulfill his requests, no matter how demanding.

I arrived at his office door and knocked lightly. Brink's voice responded from inside: "Come in, Jordan."

I opened the door and found myself facing him, welcoming me with a smile. "Jordan, please have a seat," he said, pointing to a chair across from his desk. I sat down, trying to mask my nervousness.

Brink started with the usual questions about the beginning of my second year. I told him about my classes and the projects I had in mind. He listened attentively, nodding occasionally.

Then he asked how the introductory course "Combatting Crime," which I had to cover in his place, had gone.

"How did the introductory lesson go, Jordan? It's always a challenging task to manage a room full of freshmen."

"It went pretty well, I think," I replied, trying to recall the highlights. "The freshmen were curious and full of questions. I tried to be as clear as possible, but it's always a challenge to keep everyone's attention. Some seemed a bit lost, but I think I provided them with a good overview of the program."

Brink nodded, his gaze attentive and evaluative. "I'm sure you did a great job. It's not easy to take my place, but you've proven to be up to the task. First impressions are crucial, and I know you were able to communicate the importance of our work."

I felt a slight sense of pride at his words. "Thank you, Professor. I tried to convey the passion and dedication necessary to tackle such a complex field."

"I'm sure you succeeded," Brink said with a smile. "Your experience and enthusiasm are evident."

Then something changed, and his gaze became more serious.

"Jordan," he began, "I didn't ask you to come to my office just to have a chat, but because I need your help. I need your involvement in a matter that requires trust and discretion. You are one of the people I trust most here, and I know you won't let me down."

My heart started to beat faster. "What is it about, Professor?"

"You need to keep an eye on someone for me," Brink continued. "It's about a first-year student. She's a very promising girl, and I'm certain she will do great things in the future... but she needs someone to guide and protect her. Moreover, the Council is very interested in her well-being since she is the only beloved granddaughter of one of Vought's major investors."

Beneath the surface of my obligatory acceptance, a tide of conflicting emotions simmered. The thought of having to babysit a girl who probably had never faced a real challenge in her life felt like an insult to my intelligence and abilities. I hadn't enrolled at God U for this kind of thing. I'm here to learn, to grow, to become the best in my field. But I couldn't show my reluctance to Brink. He had invested time and energy in my academic and personal development. How could I say no to someone who had believed in me so much?

"Of course, Professor," I replied, trying to maintain a neutral tone. "I'll do my best to ensure the girl feels comfortable and safe."

Brink smiled, apparently satisfied with my response. "I knew I could count on you, Jordan."

Before leaving his office, I realized there was still one important thing I needed to know. "Professor, one more thing. What's the girl's name?"

Brink nodded, as if he had anticipated the question. "Her name is Astrid Steenwijk."

*＊✿❀ ❀✿＊*

I left his office with a heavy heart, trying to accept the idea that this assignment would be just another way to demonstrate my loyalty and gratitude toward him.

I sat down at my desk and tried to focus on the documents in front of me. They were lab reports and statistical analyses I needed to review for an ongoing project. But despite my efforts, I couldn't get my mind off what Brink had just asked me to do. Every time I tried to read a line or analyze a piece of data, the name Astrid Steenwijk crept into my thoughts, disrupting my concentration.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my mind. But that name kept echoing in my head. Astrid Steenwijk.

Who are you? Why does your name sound so familiar to me? And, more importantly, why is everyone so concerned about your well-being? What makes you so valuable in their eyes?

Time passed, but nothing changed.

After a while, I realized it was useless to keep forcing myself. I had to confront this obsession somehow, or I would never be able to work.

With a sigh of resignation, I abandoned the documents in my hands and turned on my laptop. I needed to know more about this girl, to understand who she really was. Maybe getting to know her story better would help me overcome my reluctance and approach the task with more objectivity.

I put on my headphones and played some music to help me concentrate. Then, I opened the browser and started searching for information about the girl. I typed her name into the search engine and hit enter, waiting for the results to appear on the screen.

The first result that caught my attention was an article tracing the branches of the Steenwijk family tree. As I scrolled through the article, I discovered that my little freshman was the only daughter of Sansa Steenwijk, a wealthy heiress of European descent. Sansa had been one of the most prominent figures in high society, frequently appearing on the covers of fashion and gossip magazines. But her life had tragically ended just hours after Astrid's birth due to post-operative complications that left no hope. The news of Sansa's death had shocked Europe and the world, sparking countless speculations and theories.

The identity of Astrid's father, however, was shrouded in mystery. Despite much speculation, no one knew for sure who he was. Many had guessed he might be an equally influential figure, but no concrete evidence had ever emerged. This lack of information added to the aura of mystery surrounding the Steenwijk family.

I continued reading the article and learned that after Sansa's death, Astrid was entrusted to her closest relative, her uncle Alexander Steenwijk. Alexander, Sansa's younger brother, had never married and had no children of his own. The idea that a man of his stature had chosen to dedicate his entire existence to his niece deeply struck me. Alexander was described as a reserved and powerful figure, a man who had built an economic empire and who now, in addition to managing his business, had devoted himself entirely to raising and protecting Astrid.

I kept reading, finding another article that discussed Alexander's social and financial position. He wasn't just a magnate: he was one of the wealthiest and most influential men of the last century. His name was tied to large multinational companies, billion-dollar investments, and philanthropic donations that had changed the fate of many communities. His influence extended beyond the business world, touching politics and culture as well. It was clear that Alexander would leave nothing to chance when it came to protecting his niece's legacy and safety.

After gaining some understanding of the Steenwijk family, I decided to focus on Astrid herself. I opened other articles, including some from tabloid newspapers that turned out to be surprisingly informative. I discovered that Astrid was currently engaged to a certain Michael Miller. The name wasn't unfamiliar, but I didn't know much about him. I kept reading and learned that Michael was a promising tennis player, a talented athlete who had already won a few important tournaments and was ranked among the top 100 tennis players in the world.

The sources reported that the two had met during their first year of high school at one of Europe's most prestigious private schools. Michael also came from a wealthy family, though not as influential as the Steenwijks. The two had officially started dating at the age of 16, and their relationship had often been in the media spotlight, mainly due to the notoriety of both.

However, things seemed to have changed recently. According to the sources I was reading, a few months ago, Michael had cheated on Astrid with a model, and the scandal had made the rounds in the tabloids. This raised an eyebrow: cheating on a girl like Astrid Steenwijk wasn't just a mistake; it was a choice with potentially devastating consequences. Since then, no official statement had been made about a possible breakup, but there was a significant detail: no one had seen them together in public since.

The image of Astrid that began to form in my mind was very different from the one I had initially imagined. She wasn't just a spoiled girl who had always gotten what she wanted. She was a young woman who had lost her mother at birth, grown up under the strict protection of a powerful uncle, and now found herself dealing with a turbulent relationship with a boy who had betrayed her. Despite all the power and wealth, her life was far from free of difficulties and complications.

I turned off the laptop and removed the headphones, letting the silence envelop me as I reflected on everything I had discovered. The information I had gathered gave me a new perspective on Astrid, and in some way, I felt I better understood why Brink had entrusted me with this assignment.

I realized that, although I had initially been reluctant to accept this task, something had changed.

As I was lost in these thoughts, my phone vibrated on the table, breaking the silence. I looked at the screen and saw a message from Luke. "Hey, Jordan! Don't forget we're training together this afternoon. See you at 6 at the usual spot, okay?"

I smiled as I read the message. Luke had always been a pillar for me, a trusted friend I could vent to and discuss anything with, whether it was academic issues or personal problems. Training with him was an opportunity to unplug, to escape the stress of classes and the responsibilities I had as Brink's technical assistant.

I checked the time and realized there were only a couple of hours left until our meeting. I decided it was better to get ready and set aside everything I had discovered about Astrid for a while. I needed some time for myself, to recharge and approach the issue with a fresher mind.

I quickly replied to Luke's message: "I'll be there. I really need to blow off some steam today. See you later!"

After sending the message, I got up from my chair and stretched, feeling my tense muscles relax slightly. It was amazing how heavy it could be to sit for hours reading and analyzing information.

Then I got back to work, this time with a new perspective.

Time passed quickly, and it was time for me to get ready for the workout, grabbing my bag with everything I needed. I left my office and headed toward the campus gym.

1° part ; 2° part ; 3° part

[ultimateshixiongfuckertournament]

Noncanonicals Tournament Round 2, Match 2

Match 2 is between Xie Lu / T from Memory Lost (shizun/mentor: Xu Sibai / S) and Chen Pi Ah Si from DMBJ / The Mystic Nine (shizun/mentor: Er Yuehong)

Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)

Xie Lu / T:

Xie Lu, codename T, is a member of the Alphabet Syndicate, and leader S's personal project. From a young age, Xie Lu displayed an uncanny aptitude for sharp-shooting. When his dream of going to a specialized school for training, and ultimately competing in the Olympics, was destroyed by his own father, Xie Lu left home, living off the land in the mountains. It was here, when he was fifteen, that he was approached by S, promising to train him in the art of killing, honing his already-excellent skills with a gun into something perfect.

//From fifteen to twenty-three years old, T followed him for eight years.

But he only stayed by his side for the first three years.// (Memory Lost novel, T's Story)

//After the case, the man whom T viewed as an older brother and a God-like figure, disbanded the organization and disappeared.

Everybody including T who were still alive started living their own lives.

“I’m sorry, T,” that man said, “I promised you five years, but I only led you three years.”

But T smiled, “I will always follow your orders in my lifetime.”

That man nodded and didn’t look at him again. He stared at the setting sun that was like a blazing fire. // (Memory Lost novel, T's Story)

In the aftermath of the police raid on the syndicate's base, T was the one who carried S out of the ruins, and cared for him, standing up to the others in defense of S' wishes.

//"S's order was to send Su Mian to Jiangcheng to replace Bai Jinxi's identity after he and Su Mian were in a coma." R said, "And S has always had a cover-up, Xu Sibai, a forensic doctor. These years, S has also completed his studies in forensic medicine. Let him return to this status, a year later, he will be transferred to Jiangcheng. Then everything will start again."

Xu Nanbai smiled suddenly: "For the mentally ill, this is really a deathly romantic decision."

"We still have a choice." L raised his head and looked at everyone, "If S will also lose his memory, let them be with us and we can say that they are a pair. Then, S can fulfill his wish and he can be with her. He can do whatever he wants without much trouble."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone calmed down. This approach violates the previous arrangement of S, but they are all predators, and this approach naturally suits them better.

"I object." T said, “This is not the idea of S.”

"Vote." R said.

There were results soon.

For L’s proposal, only T and Xu Nanbai opposed it. The reason for T’s objection is that S’wish must be respected; and Xu Nanbai's objection is because he thinks it is better to kill Su Mian.// (Memory Lost Prequel, Part 16)

//It was early in the morning one month later, everyone found that S and Su Mian were gone.

The hospital bed in the hut was empty. T and his gun disappeared together.

"Fuck!" L cursed lowly and sharp-eyed,he picked up a piece of letterhead left on the table, it was T’s handwriting, and there was only one sentence—

"That's not the life S wants."// (Memory Lost Prequel, Part 17)

While T kept up working as a hitman in S' absence, he sent half of his earnings to him to ensure his well-being, and occasionally checked in on Xu Sibai in his new life. It is also canon that he fell into a deep depression for some time after being parted from S and the rest of the syndicate.

#t all the way!!!#murder kitty was down so bad for dr warcrimes

Chen Pi Ah Si:

Listen. We know canonically Chen Pi is unhinged over his shifu's wife, but he's just as unhinged and Normal(tm) about Er Ye as he is about Ya Tou. He ripped a dude's face off for saying that Chen Pi might overtake Er Ye one day. He is the yandere flavour of a shizunfucker and you know it, and they deserve representation in this tournament as well

[twistyprefect]

MMM: (S) Ancient Runes

"I have Ancient Runes first." They said, smiling. Lilia grinned at them and nodded, glancing at the person who just entered the Great Hall.

"Vil is in Ancient Runes too. You could ask for directions or to walk with him." Lilia said, waving to Vil as he sat down near the prefect.

"I can do that." Vil said, nodding to the prefect in greeting as he started to eat. The prefect smiled slightly and also began to eat, trying to suppress the nerves.

"Don't be scared. The class will be mostly empty, and you'll be fine." he said. The prefect nodded and tried to calm their nerves. After they both finished eating, the prefect grabbed their timetable and bag, heading towards the Ancient Runes classroom with Vil by their side.

"So, why Ancient Runes?"

"I find them interesting, and beautiful. There's so much you can do with them." Vil explained, smiling softly. The prefect smiled back and nodded in understanding and followed him down the hallway, up several stairs, and into the classroom. The room was pretty small, which made sense for such a small class. Students weren't exactly foaming at the mouth to take Ancient Runes.

"Sit near me, if you would. Slytherin's present a united front, after all." Vil whispered to the prefect. The prefect smiled nervously and followed Vil to the front, sitting in the second row near him. Since Vil had ignored the other students, the prefect glanced around to try and take in the other person there already, a Ravenclaw near the back. Another two students entered, one of them approaching the Ravenclaw.

"Here on time? And awake? A miracle." He teased, causing the other student to roll his eyes and flick an extra quill at the Hufflepuff.

"I'm avoiding Hunt. He's got it in his head he should transfer to this class, but I doubt he'll be able to." The student said, sighing to himself. The other student nodded in understanding, turning back towards the front of the classroom and picking a seat. The other Hufflepuff seemed to try and approach the prefect, only to back away as Vil glared at him. A few other students started to fill the other seats; a cheerful Gyrffindor sat in the row across from the prefect, grinning at them.

"Hey, shrimpy! You're the exchange student right?" He said, leaning over closer to the prefect. They smiled nervously and introduced themself before the professor entered the classroom, immediately silencing the students.

The first lesson was a bit easy, just a refresher on some of the basics.

Vil had answered most of the questions, obviously he knew his stuff. The sleepy Ravenclaw was mostly quiet, though he answered any questions the blonde didn't. The prefect couldn't really see the other students, so they didn't know how other people were experiencing the class. At the end of the class, it was announced that there was already a project . A group project, too.

"Find a partner. They don't have to be the same year as you, but please strive to find someone at a similar level to you." Professor Bernardi said, glaring at the Gryffindor in particular.

As soon as the professor dismissed the class, students rushed around to find a partner. The prefect decided to try and approach someone before being approached. Based on what they'd seen in class, anyone could really be a good partner.

But they had decided on their partner after another look over the room, approaching...

[Who do you approach?]

...the sleepy Ravenclaw.

...the cheerful Gryffindor.

...the quiet Hufflepuff.

...the excitable Hufflepuff.

...your fellow Slytherin.

[avasghost]

foreign birds: update #2

wake up new foreign birds update just dropped

so yeah. 13k in and nothing has gone extremely wrong yet which is good! it's all going pretty good. so here's excerpts for chapter 7-10.

if you missed it, you can find the wip intro here and the first update here. and also the playlist here because i have good music taste.

so ! the story is progressing nicely and the four timelines are working out really well. i finally introduced gabriel (in the college timeline) and he's becoming one of my favourite characters ever (based on the 1 singular scene with him i've written so far, in a chapter i'm going to include in the next update bc i don't want this update to be that long). this book is probably going to be relatively short with the projected word count being 50-60k words, so at this rate i might finish it for camp in april next year? but idk. i'll probably be sad if i finish this book any time soon so i won't be rushing it.

excerpts & taglist below the cut!

CHAPTER 7

in chapter 7, we jump back to the third timeline, which follows martin going to college and the development of his relationship with gabriel, who's already dead in the fictive present.

in this chapter martin leaves his hometown finally and drives for a while and then has dinner in a little diner where he aspires to not be like the people in his hometown.

When I left my hometown for college, I didn’t check its fleeting image in the rear-view, didn’t even feel it slink away around me and disappear into fields and hills. All I felt was the relief of separation, the green unfurling like a new country.

and here's the end of the chapter:

I ate the burger and paid and left. The sky had deepened, and the stars glittered in small clusters above my head. It didn’t feel too different from back home, where Jasmine and I would lie on our trampoline and count them, scanning the sky carefully for all the tiny lights. I kept driving. The roads grew smoother and buildings grew taller and more industrial. Cars crawled like ants, headlights a searing yellow. The traffic lights tossed green and red beams across the highway. The stars disappeared.

CHAPTER 8

in the main timeline (martin back in his hometown after death of gabriel) martin goes to a laundromat and meets rainey for the first time in three years! oh the tension

here he is the night before being sad bc thats just what he does:

I spent two nights in the motel room alone. The telephone on the wall didn’t ring and no ones’ knuckles thrummed on the door. If they did, I probably wouldn’t have answered anyway,sprawled on the paisley duvet cover in a silvery sheen of smoke. I kept my pack of cigarettes under the edge of my pillow, and smoked into the empty hours of the night as the silence outside the window festered and the room grew shadows and slowly faded from sight. I kept the side-lamp on, and sometimes I leaned into the rind of yellow light that ringed the bedside table. As smoke flumed between my teeth I’d shut my eyes and it would become a halo, the circle of light, the only thing that made me visible.

martin sees rainey in the laundromat after not seeing her for like three years, and she leaves and he follows her outside. they talk awkwardly and then rainey asks why he came back. he avoids the question. (she's the "you" pov)

“So are you back for good?” I approached slowly, then leaned against the wall a few feet from you, warmed by the sun baking on the stucco. “Doubt it. I always hated this place.” “Same.” A cloud of smoke. A cough. “This town is a shithole. I never left, though. Got a pretty good gig writing magazine columns. Pretty decent pay. What were you majoring in again?” I didn’t mention her thieving, decided it wasn’t important. “Photography. Not much of a career to come out of that, though.” “Did you drop out?” “It’s complicated.” Gabriel’s face, swimming. Gabriel’s body crumpled on the ground, blocked out. I blocked it out. “Why did you come back here, then?” “That’s also complicated.” “There’s really nothing left here. Most people our age moved away ages ago and now the only people left are people like Greta and a few little kids.”

later, martin is sitting in his motel room watching the news and gabriel shows up as a missing person.

I sat in my motel room that evening and waiting for the News to clip through the frenzy of static that rang in the back of my head even after the static stopped and a woman with a pearl necklace and too-white teeth began speaking, her voice hollowed by the grain of the audio recording. I pressed the back of my head against the wooden headboard and tugged at the button on the sleeve of my shirt. Her words slipped together, words about the forecast, how it was supposed to be partly sunny tomorrow and rain all night. But then, my stomach dropped. Gabriel’s face flashed on screen, Gabriel with his curly black hair and amber skin, Gabriel with his dimples and subtle smile, Gabriel with his gold earring and colourful silk shirt, mostly unbuttoned so you could see his crystal necklace crooked to his chest. I sleeved a grease of sweat from my forehead as the news reporter’s voice rang in my ears, words still hazy but some sticking out like the sting of metal—student's body found off campus, likely an accident, still searching for answers, will be missed, prayers for his family, so sorry for their loss. And then his face was gone. As suddenly as it had appeared, I could no longer picture his features in my head. He was so close and yet already so far gone.

CHAPTER 9

i skipped this chapter for now but it's in the childhood timeline. moving on.

CHAPTER 10

martin goes to the only nightclub nearby where he doesn't expect to recognize anyone.

i wrote basically this entire chapter in my math class in a notebook which is cool. it's been kind of the best time to get writing done lately (but don't worry its only when i'm done my work i'm not failing i swear)

he's a little disorientated because last time he went to a nightclub it was with gabriel. then he sees someone in the crowd, who he recognizes as rita, a girl he went to school with. i've seriously got to stop describing halos all the time but i can't

The woman, Rita Ellis, was a year younger than I was but graduated a year before me. Skittish and friendly, she’d usually nooked herself behind the pages of the mass-market fantasy novels they sold in grocery store lineups and only spoke when spoken to. Tartan skirts and hair in two braids, she usually sat with her parents in front of my family in mass and I used to watch the light scintillating through the stained-glass windows amber through her hair, give her a soft halo that turned her blond head bright yellow. Today she was haloed by the red and blue lights that scattered above her head, and her hair ran long and wavy across her shoulders.

and then, shortly after

Her voice rang above the noise and I stared at the space behind her ear, where a man with black curls and a gold earring laughed at some unheard joke. Gabriel’s face almost replaced his as he turned towards me, then vanished into bright fractures again.

she asks the usual questions about why he's back and he says he missed it. she says she stayed because her mom had cancer and is still here because of her dad.

then she asks him to dance, and they talk for a while and she tells him she missed him a lot. she asks him to come over to her place but he doesn't bc he wishes he was here with gabriel instead but he's dead so. making due ig. then he gets sad about gabriel not being there and leaves suddenly.

“Sorry. I have to go.” “Her smile slunk back into itself and she slid her hands down my arms before pulling them away. “Of course. It was nice seeing you again, Martin.” “And you. I’ll see you around.” I lost sight of her in the crowd as I made my way toward the exit, with its neon sign stamping red letters in my eyes, a lure. Bodies shuffled against me and sour breath ghosted my face and sweat braised my forehead when finally I shouldered open the door and stepped into the husky chill of night.

soon after

Images swirled in my head, images and faces blending together—Rita’s breath, Gabriel’s eyes, your red hair. The lights and the colours that continued to splotch inside my eyelids and quiver across the pavement in front of me, the yellow moon, all the dark-windowed houses and dead shop signs.

he gets back to his motel and decides to look through a stack of photos he has in his suitcase that he took, most of which are of gabriel.

the end:

I shuffled through the deck of polaroids until the clock above the bed read 2:44 and the stack began to repeat itself, Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel, his face reappearing so many times throughout the stack that it began etching itself in my head again, the familiar curls, his bright eyes, his floral scent and long fingers. The lump pitted in my throat began to grow and I decided not to turn on the news, not to scour every headline for his face, like I so wanted to. It wouldn’t do me any good. It wouldn’t bring him back. I shoved the polaroids into the drawer of the side-table next to the Gideon bible with shiny golden letters, and shut the drawer.

and those are all the excerpts i have today! until the next update,

-- ava

taglist (i just have one for everything, ask to be added/removed): @flip-phones @chewingthescenery @ghostsofmemories @dallonwrites @wildswrites @annlillyjose @letsgetsquiggly @strangerays @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @teaandtypewriters @kahaaniyaa @coffeeandcalligraphy @47crayons @writing-is-a-martial-art @pepperdee @oceancold @unorganisedbookshelf @musingsbycaitlin @sunstone-iolite @femmeniism @raywritesstories @rodentwrites @cheerfulmelancholies @these-starrynights

[dearunknown]

05/27-28/23 (late night saturday, actually early sunday)

Dear Unknown,

Just got back from the DJ set. I did horribly. I feel so embarrassed I could die. I wish I’d gone to the hospital instead of honoring a commitment. Oh, well. Ezra and I left very quickly. I made us leave very quickly. I want to cry but am too ashamed to cry over something so miserable and stupid. Plus I don’t want anyone’s comfort. I don’t want a kind word or a kind touch from Ezra. Even Caro… well, I’d let Caro do anything to me.

As soon as I got home, I tore off my wristband (yellow) and wrote on it in black sharpie MY LAST DJ SET - 12 AM-1 AM 5/27-28, 2023 WORK.SHOP and put it at a perfect spot so that every morning almost inevitably upon waking up I will be reminded of my laziness, inadequacy, stupidity, vanity, — my weaknesses— and be reminded that I should never try for anything ever, ever again. I should take all my ambitions, all my desires, and shove them away. Nothing is ever going to happen for me. Nothing. The fact that I have a poor-paying but basically respectable job only serves to highlight the absurdity of my life. I want to let myself lose. I want to let myself lose control. I’m over it. I’m over my life. The wanton optimism of my 29 is putrid. It was rotten on the vine. I am a bad, weak, stupid person. I will not make it. I will not break out of my life. Continue living as a hollow vessel, or hang myself. The distinction is completely irrelevant. If I’m alive, that’s just a biological fact. I am the ancient mariner, my albatross is this horrible life I’ve made for myself. My soul is in complete squalor. I am less than anything. I am sorry to darken anyone’s doorstep. When Caro moves to New York, I will throw myself completely to drunkenness and desolate emptiness. I will probably stop taking any ADHD meds this summer, and my antidepressants after Caro leaves. I will be so contemptible and broken. Every day of drinking I will finish with my usual melange of klonopin and trazodone. One day might heart might feel slow enough I can feel it’s loss of feeling. 

Today I talked to Nikolai on the phone. He made me promise to give Ezra my credit cards. He also told me to do the same with my alcohol, but I’m not doing that. 

I hope tomorrow I feel horrible. I hope the next day, I feel worse. I hope every day becomes more of a curse than the last. In the end, my one heroism will be that I endured for so long. 

I will accomplish nothing. I cannot be loved except for the mirages I put up of myself. I should withdraw from anyone who I am not forced to associate with. I will lavish all of my energy upon Caro before they leave. And as they drive away, I will see my future approach the horizon line. And I will collapse into my curse. I only have to be alive for 2 more months, maybe 3 or 4 at most. 

Nikolai thinks I’m borderline. He also said that people who are in happy relationships don’t think (as I do of Ezra) about how they wish their partner hated them so much they would break up with them. I hope… I hope it isn’t alcoholism that does it. Although I am completely intent on being an alcoholic now, I hope that’s not what destroys this relationship. How banal. I hope he just grows to see me as I am, as the most contemptible woman. I have done so much evil to Ezra, but the worst thing I have done is certainly make him think he needs me, or wants me, or loves me. I am a ball of maggots projecting the image of a woman.

I hope my mother knows she did this to me. My grandmother did this to me. My aunt did this to me. The world did this to me. But really, I DID THIS TO ME. 

I’m never listening to my therapist again when she encourages me to do something challenging. What a waste of everyone else’s time. I’m always going to be a waste of everyone’s time.

Thank you for listening. I hope you’re doing well. I’m sorry to be so self-centered. If you could write me back, I would attentively pour over your letters. I wish you weren’t so unknown to me. 

Love, 

Elizabeth

[thewildwaffle]

Humans are Weird: Antibiotics

A story prompt from a user on a03. Apparently, this is my 50th short story, or at least the 50th installment of m humans are weird short stories. Hurray!

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Ni Andu watched a dried sickle leaf roll across the empty courtyard from her window. A deep sigh made her breath fog up the glass. The courtyard wasn't supposed to be empty. Especially not this time of year. The Gauru Ni Moon Festival usually brought visitors from around the world and across multiple star systems right about now. But the disease meant no bright banners were hung. No music echoed cheerily through around the corners and down the streets. There were no wafting scents of fresh fruits and fried breads.

It was amazing and terrifying that something so small that it couldn’t be seen had done all this. The Ni were a proud race, rich in culture, and until now, seemingly sturdy in constitution. Diseases had come and gone in the past, but in such small and freak cases that they were hardly given much attention. It was assumed that Ni immune systems were the best in the galaxy and many other races had even requested to study how they were so effective.

Those prideful memories felt hollow now as Ni Andu sighed and pulled herself away from the dreary sight outside. As a new and reluctant head of the house, she had more pressing things to deal with than moping in the past. Several members of her own family were still sick, two of her hatch mates had been very touch-and-go as of late. She slowly made her way to the cushions where they were sleeping to check on them. To her relief, she saw the soft blankets they were wrapped in rose and fell slowly. She stood there, watching them for a bit in the gathering darkness of their shared humble abode. Matki’s breathing sounded like gravel stuck in a child’s rolling skiffer.

“What are we going to do?” Andu’s wide nose scrunched up as she begged the silent house. “What am I supposed to do next?”

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there trying to think of everything and nothing all at once. It was a good while though and was only interrupted when a small light turned on in the meal room. Andu looked up at the light streaming out of the door’s archway. With a sigh, she gathered her strength to move again to see who was up. As she approached, she heard small claws scrabbling on the stonework floor and storage pods opening and closing.

Sure enough, when she peeked in, Andu could see little Piri shuffling through food storage pods that looked even less stocked than she thought they’d been. There were a few bottled foods, a few containers of ingredient-prepped soup containers, but certainly nothing immediately ready for consumption. Most easy and ready-to-eat foods had been eaten long ago or destroyed when they began to decay and grow dangerous molds. And to a small three-year-old Ni, that basically meant there was no food at all.

“Hey Piri, are you hungry?” Even though Andu had kept her voice quiet, little Piri still jumped and tucked his small thin tail like he was ashamed he’d been caught. Andu smiled comfortingly and stepped into the room to pick up one of the soup packs.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” she patted him on the head softly, “I think it’s time for a meal too. I’m sure everyone else would agree once they wake up and smell the food.”

“There’s not much left,” Piri’s small voice was so sad and only made the words themselves feel sharper to Andu’s hearts. She tried to think of something she could say to make their situation seem less dire, but nothing came to mind. Instead, she scooped up Piri’s small form and waited until his thin arms latched securely around her scruff before she walked over to get a pot to cook in. She was going to have to add quite a bit of water to this if it was going to make enough to sustain everyone for a meal.

Cooking, even making something simple, helped ease Andu’s mind. There was a sense of normalcy in standing in front of a firebox and stirring a bubbling pot of soup. She tried to ignore how thin it was. Still, the smell made her feel warm and it must have wafted across the house as she could soon hear the tell-tale signs of her hatch mates waking up. She gathered bowls and filled each one. Lowering Piri back down, she handed the young Ni a bowl and carried the rest to the cushions where the rest of the family was slowly waking up.

They ate together slowly, trying to make the contents of their bowl last and talking quietly about anything they could to distract themselves from their situation. Matki was recalling a story from four lunar years ago when Andu had entered a fried bread pastry into a competition. Between Matki’s coughing and Andu interjecting to defend herself, the story kept getting interrupted! She’d worked on the recipe for her pastry for so long and was so proud of it, but the night before, something went wrong when she was making her entry. Whether it was nerves, exhaustion, oversight, or Jentala above forbid, sabotage, it went very wrong. From the way Matki described the judges’ reaction, one might have thought Andu had purposefully tried poisoning them! As everyone chuckled, Matki claimed he still had the video recording from the competition and pulled it out, much to Andu’s chagrin.

Andu pretended to be exasperated by the teasing, but really she was just glad everyone felt good enough to laugh again.

It took a while before she and the others noticed that Matki hadn’t pulled up the video. Instead, his eyes locked on the comm tablet screen.

“Matki?”

“Hey, did you find it?”

“Matki are you okay?”

Matki finally looked up, eyes still wide from whatever he’d been looking at. “They’re coming to help.”

Everyone shared a worried look. What?

“Who are you talking about? Who’s coming?” Andu broke the confused silence.

Matki tapped something on-screen with the pad of a finger and a holographic projection display rose up.

Everyone watched enraptured by the newscast. It was about humans. From halfway across the galaxy, they’d heard about the Ni’s plight and had come claiming they had a cure. They were offering aid and resources to run tests to make sure their medicine was safe and effective for Ni use and make alterations if needed. They were even claiming they’d help distribute the finalized cure the moment it was given the go-ahead. In the meantime, they were also sending ships of food and supplies.

Andu could feel the back of her throat tighten. Was this real? Did she dare hope? There’d been so many reports before about help being promised, well, not help to this extent, but help nonetheless. They’d ended up being just for show and were proven empty once those who offered realized how impossible the situation really was.

But humans? She’d heard they were tough. And stubborn. Maybe they were stubborn enough to see their promises through?

The embarrassing video of Andu’s failed pastry was long forgotten, the conversation instead jumped between wild rumors her family had overheard about humans and speculation about how long it would take for the humans to actually lend aid if they were really coming at all. Andu could see a shimmer in the eyes of her hatch mates as they spoke that she hadn’t seen in a while. Although she wished she could feel the same optimism, she could also see how quickly they were all tiring out. Although they’d slept most of the day, the disease was still taking its toll on them all.

Once the meager meal was finished, she stood to gather the now empty bowls. She noticed Piri quickly scrape a finger along the side of his bowl to snag any last morsel before she came along to collect it. ‘Jentala above,’ she prayed mentally, ‘if help truly is coming, send it along soon.”

With bellies no longer completely empty, everyone settled in, and soon the room was full of sleeping or near sleeping Ni.

Andu slept fitfully. She dreamed, but it was fractured and confusing. Even before the disease came, she had a hard time remembering her dreams once she woke up. It was near impossible now. She did remember a loud humming noise though. As she blinked her eyes and lifted her head, she realized the humming was still there. She rose and searched for the source. It almost sounded like… engines? But that, that had to be impossible - the quarantine…

She looked out the window. Dried sickle leaves were flying around wildly as a large shuttle slowly came in for a landing in the courtyard. Andu opened her mouth to call out to the rest of her family, but nothing would come. How were they still asleep with this racket? Apparently, it managed to wake up Piri, who nearly made Andu jump when he bumped into her side while trying to climb up for a better view out the window.

“What’s going on? Who’s outside?” Piri waited to ask until Andu had resettled herself after being startled.

“I’m not sure yet,” she answered as they both watched the shuttle’s doors slowly work through the unsealing process. Across the courtyard, she could see other Ni’s faces peeking out their windows. As far as she could tell, expressions seemed to range anywhere from fear to curiosity to… was that hope? Wait, had they seen the newscast last night? Did they think this was… there’s no way the humans could be here already, right?

They both watched intently as the doors finally opened and a ramp extended. Soon a line of creatures she’d only seen on screens filed down wearing yellow vests and hauling huge boxes in their arms or on carts they pulled behind them.

“It is the humans!” Piri yelled and jumped down from his perch. He ran to where everyone was stirring on the cushions, “Wake up! Wake up! The humans are here!”

Andu wasn’t sure if she should reprimand Piri for disturbing them, or if she should join in. Instead, she watched as the humans in the courtyard started setting up stations and continued hauling load after load filled with what must have been hexaheebs of food, clean water, and various supplies.

She turned to look back at her family who were trying to rise as fast as their weakened bodies would allow. Matki began coughing violently and had to rest against the wall. Andu went to help support him when a knock at the front door startled everyone. They all stared at the old chirrowood door, then around at each other. It had been so long since quarantine had started, they’d almost forgotten what a knock on the door sounded like.

After a pause, the knock came again, this time followed by a worried and drawn-out, “Hello?”

Once she was sure Matki was standing stable, Andu, being the least sick among everyone, walked to and slowly opened the door.

A human from the shuttle stood in the doorway. They were wearing a mask over their mouth and nose, but it was definitely a human! Their eyes closed slightly and creased in the corners as they nodded a greeting. “Hi, my name is Ali, I’m part of the relief team that’s been assigned to this district. We’ve got food and essentials to distribute and I just need to know how many are in this household and if anyone here is in critical condition.”

Andu blinked at the human for a moment as she took in what they’d said.

“We, uh, we have four adults and one child. There, there were more, but…” she couldn’t finish that sentence. From the look the human gave her, she didn’t need to finish it. Her sinuses stung as she fought to not cry. The first visitor in how long and here she was almost crying in the doorway?

“I'm so sorry for your loss,” the human’s head bowed and their shoulders dropped. “I wish we’d known and could have helped earlier. Is anyone here in need of immediate emergency care?”

At that point, Matki started coughing again. Andu and Ali looked back to see him sit back down until his coughing died down.

Andu sighed and turned back to the human. “None of us are great right now. Matki’s probably the worst out of all of us. He sounds bad, but he actually has started to stabilize in the past few days.”

Human Ali gave a short nod and started writing something on a tablet in his hands.

“Do you,” Andu’s voice trembled, “we heard a report last night about you. That you were coming. That you… do you…” she swallowed and fought back desperate tears, “do you really have a cure?”

The human’s eyes creased again. “We do.”

Andu didn’t need to turn around to know the effect this had on her family. She heard it. She felt it. This time, she didn’t fight back the tears.

“Right now,” Human Ali continued, “it’s in the final stages of approval for Ni use, we’re just waiting for the ‘go-ahead’ and we’ll help distribute it as soon as it arrives. Until then, I’ve got some food and supplies for you. I can help unload and unpack if you need?”

“That… that would be... thank you,” she wiped at her tears. “Thank you so much.”

Over the next few days, more shuttles came and went, bringing more supplies, food, tools, and just in general, a brighter outlook and mood to the entire neighborhood. The humans really were here to help, and they seemed happy to do so. Not only were they good with their promises of aid, but they also delivered on the cure they said they had. Ni were instructed on the drug’s use and administration directions thoroughly for both the tablet and liquid forms of the cure. The effects were quick, and from the reports on the newscast, overwhelmingly positive. The Ni were cured! The plague that had once threatened to wipe out their entire population was gone! Celebrations larger than even the Gauru Ni Moon Festival were planned, songs were written, stories shared and spread. It was wholly agreed by all that this was a historic time in Ni history that they all survived through, and all thanked Jentala above for sending the humans to help.

It went without saying that everyone wanted to know more about the cure itself. And that meant everyone, not just the Ni, but the rest of the galactic community who before, had written the Ni off as a lost cause because of the horrific disease. What was this miracle cure? What other things could it do? Where, by all that is bright and shining, did the humans get it, and could it be easily replicated?

The humans, for their part, were again as open and gracious with their information as they had been with their aid. It was an old medicine they’d discovered long ago on their planet. Considered to be the first “antibiotic,” it was widely used on Earth and had saved millions of lives since its discovery. It worked by interfering with bacteria cell walls and destroyed them by causing them to burst.

It was called

Penicillin.

“Amazing!” “Spectacular!” “So simple, yet so ingenious!” many in the galactic community praised. “How ever did you discover this amazing drug?”

The initial answer wasn’t too surprising, for humans at least: it was an accident.

Andu almost snorted as she read the report to the rest of her family. Granted, the end of the plague was the first time any of them had come in direct contact with humans, but they all had heard many of the stories about human escapades. Wild experiments that on paper seemed more like a drunken brainstorm party that ended up advancing rocket fuel technology by at least 8 lunar years. Crash-landings on category 3 death worlds and they ended up liking them so much they decided to set up colonies. Half of what they did seemed to be mistakes that just went right for them. Apparently, the miracle drug penicillin was included in those stories.

She looked up its history and manufacturing.

Andu felt claws dance down her back as she read more. It came… from mold? Mold?! She looked up from the tablet to the faces of her equally horrified hatch mates. It took them a moment to remember how to close their mouths.

"You mean like mold on old bread?" Piri broke the shocked silence.

Andu blinked and looked back at the report. Old bread? How many times had they not eaten bread fast enough in the warm humid seasons only to pick up a bul of bread and find mold growing on it. It was dangerous, it had to be carefully disposed of, it was… able to save lives?

She returned to the report. The more she read, the more comforted she became in the safety of the miracle antibiotic. That, and she couldn't argue with the results. Her family was around her, now loudly being altogether boisterous together as they "discussed" the humans and all the ways they played with death in order to save life.

Matki snatched the tablet from her claws, wanting to read the report for himself. As Andu was jostled by her now healthy, energetic family, she was just happy and eternally thankful that the humans were crazy enough to play with something as dangerous as fungus, and then kind enough to share what they discovered.

[queenshelby]

The Last Semester - Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 3,345

Original Blog:

@queenshelby​

Previous Parts: Part One; Part Two

***************************

The Blind Date

It was 7 o’clock when you walked into the local Irish pub, looking for your date Patrick in a crowded room. Luckily, Emma had shown you Patrick’s Facebook profile and he certainly was handsome and easily recognisable.

Unsurprisingly, when you saw him standing at the bar with a pint of Guinness, he had already caught the waitresses’ attention and she tried her best to flirt with him until you approached.

‘Hi, Patrick?’ you asked and he nodded before shaking your hand and suggesting that you find somewhere else to sit.

Eventually, you located one of the high-top tables on the other side of the pub and sat down with your beers and began talking.

Patrick was a doctor at the university campus who had graduated medical school as little as two years ago. But, whilst he clearly was smart, you quickly realised that he was somewhat arrogant and lacked a good sense of humour.

Regardless, you tried to make the most of the night until, eventually, Patrick sought some reassurance from you that you would be going home with him that night. According to him, he didn’t like wasting his time if there was nothing in it for him.

His comments caught you by surprise and you quickly advised him that you were not that kind of woman and you certainly wouldn’t go home with someone you barely knew.

Patrick was disappointed and the conversation escalated quickly when he called you a prude and referred to you as being a woman who simply uses men to get free drinks.

You were speechless and, at half time, you put $10 pounds onto the table for your drinks and excused yourself quickly, grabbing your bag and headed for the bathroom.

There was no way you would be putting up with a man like this and you couldn’t believe that Emma thought that you would like him. Did she really think as little of you, you wondered?

Later that Evening

‘Cillian, hey’ you said as, after spending ten minutes in the bathroom collecting your thoughts, you walked out towards the entrance of the pub.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Cillian asked as he immediately noticed your red and somewhat teary eyes.

‘Well, let’s just say that my roommate set me up on a blind date with a total wanker’ you laughed but, really, you weren’t sure whether you should laugh or cry after what he had said to you. It certainly didn’t help your self-esteem and that was something you struggled with.

What you were, however, sure about was that you were ready to leave even if that meant that you would miss the second part of the game.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ Cillian asked, his hand resting on your shoulder and his eyes giving you a concerning but yet reassuring look.

You quickly nodded and Cillian responded with a simple ‘common then’ before dumping his half full pint of beer and walking outside with you.

Once you made it out of the door unnoticed, you inhaled deeply. ‘Damn and I really wanted to see the game. Ireland is so close this time’ you pouted slightly disappointed.

‘I am going to watch the rest at my place. You are welcome to come along’ Cillian offered and you took a moment to think about his offer. You knew that your flatmates were having a party and the game was only available on pay tv and you would much rather sit on the lounge with Cillian and watch the Ireland beat France than clean up vomit and empty bottles of booze at home.

‘Uhm yes, why not. Thanks’ you said shyly and followed Cillian to his apartment which was only a five-minute stroll from the pub.

Finally some Privacy

‘Wine or beer?’ Cillian asked after you took off your shoes and sat down on the lounge in his living room.

‘Whatever you are having’ you responded and Cillian was quick to open a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

‘Thank you’ you said as he handed you a glass and sat down next to you. You really weren’t much of a red wine drinker but pretended to enjoy it.

There was an awkward silence between you as you watched the second half of the game but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

You struggled paying attention to the commentators as your mind focused on the man sitting next to you instead. The smell of his aftershave mixed with detergence he had used to wash his clothes drove you absolutely crazy. And then there were his hands, which you watched every time he reached for his glass of wine.

But it wasn’t just you watching Cillian. He watched you as well and often gazed over to you, focusing on your soft facial features.

Eventually, after about twenty minutes into the second half, you couldn’t bare the silence any longer and started a conversation.

‘So, you wanted to ask me something yesterday when I came to your office. But then you didn’t. I am curious though. What was it?’ you said shyly, slightly encouraged by the wine in your system.

‘I was actually going to ask you whether you wanted to watch the game tonight’ Cillian murmured, looking somewhat embarrassed when he looked over to you.

‘So why didn’t you?’ you went on to ask, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘Because I realised how inappropriate that would have been’ he admitted and you smiled, cheeks flushing red.

‘Well, here we are’ you said nervously, looking into Cillian’s deep blue eyes for a moment before trying to look away shyly.

But, Cillian wouldn’t let you, reaching for your face with one of his hands.

‘Hey’ he said quietly as his thumb ran over your chin gently. ‘I like when you look at me’ he then went on to say and, just like that, you leaned forward and pressed your lips onto his once again.

The kiss you shared was gentle and tentative, not rushed and not forced in any way. It was a simple kiss, brief but exciting.

‘I am sorry’ you said after your lips drifted apart, but this time, you didn’t look away and your eyes got lost in his.

Cillian shook his head briefly before drawing your face closer towards his again for yet another kiss. Again, it was tentative but, this time, you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and explore.

‘I shouldn’t be pursuing this Y/N’ Cillian said quietly as, eventually your lips drifted apart. ‘It’s not right on so many levels’ he went on to say but you quietened his lips with a third kiss, a passionate kiss which drew your body even closer towards his until you found your way onto his lap, facing him, pressing your body against his as your tongues moved with each other in sync.

‘I am a grown woman Cillian. I can’t see anything wrong with this and I certainly don’t want you to stop kissing me’ you said as your lips drifted apart again, a shy smile escaping you as you did.

‘I am also twenty years older than you and supervising your drama project’ he then went on to say somewhat concerned.

‘I don’t care about the difference in age and, technically, you aren’t my supervisor anymore, Aidan is’ you reassured Cillian, smirking at him as you did.

‘Still, not a good look getting involved with one of the students from the project’ Cillian said reluctantly but without making any attempt to push you away.

‘Well, I could leave now and you can ask me out again in three weeks when you finish up your volunteering position’ you then suggested all while you started to grind against him, feeling his erection strain against his jeans beneath you.

Your suggestion fell on deaf ears as Cillian already struggled to contain his emotions and needs with you on top of him and, just as you finished your sentence, he affirmed what he wanted with another passionate kiss.

The kiss you were sharing soon became heated and desperate and Cillian’s hands started to roam over your warm skin beneath your thin jumper.

His touch instantly sent shivers over you skin and down your spine and sent you into overdrive when his hands began to cup your small breasts.

You moaned into his mouth and, just after you did, you pulled back slightly, allowing him to pull your jumper over your head.

As he did, you suddenly felt a little nervous and self-conscious but it was obvious. He wanted you and his lips soon met yours again.

‘Cill…’ you said in between kisses and he looked at you, responding with a quiet ‘hmm’ as his eyes were questioning what you wanted to say.

‘It’s been two years since I have been with anyone and I don’t really do one night stands’ you murmured quietly and Cillian simply smiled, caressing your face with one of his hands before responding to your comment.

‘Good’ he said before giving you a quick peck. ‘Neither do I’ he reassured you without telling you that it had been six months for him too, which is when he broke up with his last long term girlfriend Nadine.  

After another minute or two of more passionate kisses, Cillian picked you up and, before you could really prepare yourself for what was about to happen, you were in his bed.

Nervously but eager at the same time, you looked up at him with what you hoped were bedroom eyes.

He got the message and hoovered over you, kissing you gently before continuing to undress you, gentle but a little hurried.

You had already lost your jumper in the living room earlier and now he was pulling on your jeans, getting rid of them in a haste and leaving you exposed in your grey cotton underwear.

‘I didn’t quite plan for this’ you said nervously as you weren’t really dressed to impressed, your underwear simple and not sexy at all.

‘You look beautiful just the way you are Y/N’ Cillian reassured you before leaving a trail of kisses on your warm skin.

The anticipation was already killing you. With each passing second, his lips trailing over your bare shoulders and up your neck, you felt yourself shiver, the heat traveling right down to the taut muscles inside you, right between your legs. It was slick there, the result of your growing arousal.

It wasn’t long until Cillian unclipped your bra, exposing your small and perky breasts. You were impressed that he had immediately noticed the clasp of the bra at the front. He certainly paid attention to detail.

By now, your nervousness had sat in and your cheeks began to flush as his eyes gazed over your body.

Cillian noticed and simply responded with a warm smile before nudging your nose with his.

‘We can stop if you want to’ Cillian began to say but you immediately interrupted him.

‘I want you Cillian, please’ you whispered and he responded with a gentle nod.

‘Relax’ he then whispered before kissing you again and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

‘Cillian’ you eventually moaned as he nipped your throat with his teeth before sitting back.

You opened your eyes again and watched as Cillian grabbed his shirt from the back, and pulled it down over his head. Next off were his jeans, and then his briefs.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. His body was perfect, his chest was only lightly covered with some hair and his skin was covered in freckles.

But, when you lowered your eyes, your sense of shyness returned and seeing him completely naked in front of you caused you to flush.

He was clearly aroused by you, hard and ready, even though you only just started.

As you nervously looked at him, Cillian leaned forward and began to gently run his hands over your stomach, leaning down to kiss it, before hooking his index fingers into the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting to breath out again as he exposed your soaking wet mound.

What now, you wondered? Like the two men you’ve been with in the past, would he proceed directly to the main event?

‘You are so sexy, you know that?’ Cillian went on to say and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Sure’ you said nervously as he spread your legs before bending down and pressing his hot mouth right against your sopping wet slit.

You didn’t expect that and immediately let out a sharp gasp.

‘Oh god’ you moaned in pleasure as you put one of your hands in his hair and gripped the sheets beneath you with the other.

Cillian’s tongue ran through your slit several times before it swirled around over your clit gently.

‘Fuck’ you cried out, throwing your head back as he began to eat you out, his tongue working wonders on your sex-deprived pussy.

His hands were on your thighs, pushing them farther apart, fingers digging into your skin.

‘Please’ you eventually said, not even sure what you were pleading for. You just knew that he couldn't stop or you would scream.

Your pussy was sensitive, and it had been so long since you had sex and even then, you never quite experienced any sensation like this.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned even louder as he sped up the movements of his tongue.  

Within bare seconds, you came with a cry and a shudder. Unable to hold back, you let go, shutting your eyes to ride out your orgasm.

Involuntarily, you were grinding up on him, your hips lifting off the bed, toes curling.

‘That was quick’ Cillian chuckled after you came down from your high and before giving your inner thigh another quick kiss.

‘I am sorry, I don’t know what just happened’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you never had orgasmed before when being with someone else. In fact, you never even gotten close to climaxing when someone else pleasured you orally.

‘Don’t ever be sorry’ Cillian said, kissing you gently before sitting back again and reaching for the bedside table draw to his right.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you and, shamelessly but also somewhat nervously, you watched him pull out a silver condom wrapper from the draw.

You bit your lip in anticipation was you watched him open the wrapper with his teeth before rolling the condom onto his hard shaft.

Cillian then leaned forward again, spreading your legs further apart with a nudge from his knees. He looked powerful above you, his body trained, stomach flat, waist trim, looking at you with such lust that you forgot for a moment that, just days ago, you were trying to forget all about him. He leaned down, kissing you, tasting you, making the heat spread all over your body as he slipped two of his fingers inside of you, curving inward.

‘Still so sensitive’ he chuckled while you gasped at the sensation.

‘Cillian, please’ you begged. But he didn't seem to hear you and put pressure down, jerking his hand and thrusting his fingers right against your previously unexplored g-spot.

‘Oh my fucking god, no no no’ you cried out, bucking your hips again almost instantly, this time squirting right into his hand. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, your pussy still clenching on his fingers, desperate and needy.

‘Cillian, oh fuck’ you whimpered, not realising that you left a wet puddle on the sheets.

‘Wow’ Cillian grinned. He looked pretty pleased with himself as you sat up somewhat shocked, which is when you noticed what had just happened.

‘Oh my god. This is so fucking embarrassing’ you said when you noticed that you squirted for the first time.

‘Shh, it's okay’ Cillian murmured, calming you down and kissing you.

‘In fact, I think its fucking sexy and I hope I can make you do this again’ he smirked before guiding your back onto the mattress again.

‘I think you might’ you chuckled as you held out your arms and he melted into them, supporting himself with his arms.

‘I want to feel you so badly Cillian’ you moaned as his cock finally slid between your legs, making you squirm and buck your hips.

‘Patience’ Cillian said softly, and planted a kiss on the tip of your nose.

‘How can you restrain yourself?’ you asked, surprising you both.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, impossibly amused.

‘I’ve been restraining myself from wanting this for weeks’ Cillian said, and pressed his lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, biting and sucking. You closed your eyes, toes curling again, and gave into the pleasure. You did your best to wrap your legs around him, and he began to grind his cock down between your legs, right along the slit of your wet pussy.

When he finally entered you, you both let out a hiss of satisfaction, clutching at one another. The friction slow, drawn out, was enough to numb your mind. Your fingers dug into his back, his hands gripped the sheets, and he made love to you, driving inside of you with careful, deliberate movements.

‘Cillian’ you moaned as you felt him thrust in and out of you over and over again. But, hearing his groans and moans was exciting you just as much as the pleasure he gave you with his cock.

Cillian and you adjusted, getting familiar with one another, your bodies moving in slow grinds as he snapped his hips, making you shift yours off the bed. His pace quickened, and so did your breathing, and in one swift motion, you were a shuddering mess, feeling his cock hit that spot again, making you shatter.

At this point, Cillian was relentless, pounding into you, making you cry out in pleasure. You gripped his shoulders, fingernails leaving crescent marks behind, little slivers of moons, leaving your mark. He was yours and you were his.

You writhed under him, your pussy clenching around his thickness. His hands visibly shook, his breath wild as he moved in you, kissing you almost roughly, smashing his lips against yours, and in seconds, his tongue was sliding against yours as you tasted each other.

You anticipated each movement, feeling the bulge of his cock hard inside of you, filling you. Just when you thought you would come again, he withdrew and helped you to your knees, and when he entered you from behind, it was a whole other experience. He was deeper, and you seemed to drift together. You could smell his spicy aftershave, could smell your coupling in the air, thick and hazy, making you dizzy with desire.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against his cock, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

He was thrusting into you and with each passing second, you came closer and closer. You were whimpering, your entire body a mess of tightened muscles. An all-encompassing moan left your lips as his fingers found your clit, and as he rubbed, circling it, you came again, hard and fast.

Blinding gratification. Earth-shattering spasms. A delicious high, an overdose of emotions your body began to shake and your walls began to contract tightly around his thrusting cock.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned into your ear as he reached his high shortly after you did and you could feel his cock jerking inside of you.

His name was on your lips, but you couldn't say it; you couldn't say anything. You could feel every pulse inside of you, could feel every grunt and groan slip underneath your skin, could feel his taut muscles flush against your body. This wasn't just sex. It was heaven.

Just as you both finally came down from your high and while Cillian was kissing the back of your neck gently, he carefully pulled out of you and, just as he did, you could hear him swear.

‘Fuck’ he said in a trance as he pulled back, away from your body.

‘What is it?’ you asked and turned around immediately, looking down, noticing his cum leaking from you and down your inner thigh.

Tag List (Cillian):

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@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part II

Summary: Working for Lily is going well for Sy, but he wants her to meet a special lady in his life, and manages to get her out of the house.

Pairing: Syverson/OFC

Word Count: 5,698

Rating: PG - Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Angst

Inspiration: An old fic I wrote and wanting to write a Sy fic.

Author’s Note: Thank you to @wondersofdreaming​

“You've been getting here more early than usual.” Lily commented, handing Sy his usual morning coffee as he arrived on the property. “You fly here like Superman or something?”

She teased him as she sat down on the brand new porch swing that Sy had built with the scrap lumber from the porch and siding.

Sy laughed and leaned back against the porch railing. “No, I've been staying at the Sunway Motel in Celina.” He confessed, crossing his ankles. “I've been too tired to drive back to Austin most days, I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel or anything. So, I've been crashing there to keep it safe, and it just makes getting back here a sight easier, than a three-hour drive.” He told her, shaking his head.

“One-way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily frowned, offended to hear it.

“Well, I don't want you paying that out of your pocket.” He replied, frowning back at her. “It's not a big deal for me.”

“I do technically pay you to stay there, Sy.” Lily answered, shaking her head at him.

“True.” He nodded, staring at the tips of his boots. “But, I also have a Military paycheck.” He informed her. “Again,” He sighed, pressing his lips together. “I didn't want you paying for something I can pay myself. You buy enough things as is.”

“Well, I would have offered to pay for it.” She started, folding her legs. “But, I also would have offered you one of my guest rooms.”

Sy blinked at her, he hadn't expected that from her, it seemed a bit toward. That thought made him paused, blinking at himself. Did Austin 'Fuck and eat you out til you can't walk' Syverson just have an abstinent thought.

Holy fuck, I did! He thought, staring at her.

And it wasn't because Sy wasn't attracted to her, because he very much was.

She was a beautiful young lady. The way her eyes lit up, every time she smiled, even when she was being shy. She came just to his shoulder. Her hair looks so silk and soft, that it took everything in Sy's power not to reach out and caress his fingers through it to find out just how pillow-y soft it was. She was dainty, but had curves in all the right places, for Sy to hold onto her. He bit the inside corner of his lip, thinking about gripping those hips of hers and kneading them in his big mitts, to rub up against that plump, heart shaped ass, to grab or bury his face in those matching breasts.

Sy cleared his throat and took a deep gulp of his cooling coffee, praying his growing erection wasn't too obvious to her.

What a way to ruin it, Syverson. He berated himself, trying to rein himself back in.

“Anyway,” She said, breaking the silence and getting up off the swing. “The offer stands, if you want it.” She told him, and went back inside.

He stayed there long after she had gone upstairs to her office to start her own workday, even after his coffee cup was empty. He turned around, setting the empty cup on the railing and watched the sun slowly climb higher into the sky, before sighing and getting back to work, siding the back portion of the house; thinking he might start working on the roof next. Since Spring was due soon and the weatherman said it would be a cold and rainy one.

“I'm going to be late tomorrow.” Sy said, that afternoon.

“Okay.” Lily smiled, taking up his empty lunch plate and turned towards the sink. “Everything okay?” She asked, turning the faucet on to do them and the ones from breakfast.

“Everything's great.” Sy smiled, leaning back in his chair and grinning.

“I've never seen you smile so big, since we met.” She teased him, chuckling.

“I made a friend in Baghdad.” He explained, giddy. “She's finally over here in the States, so I need to pick her up at the airport.” He was excited about getting Aika again, even more so for Lily to meet her.

“I want you to meet her.” He added.

Lily's stomach clenched hearing him talk about whoever she was, a bit down to find out he apparently had someone special in his life. “I look forward to it.” She said, focusing on the plate in her hand.

“Great!” He beamed, getting up from the table. “I'm sure the two of you will be two peas in a pod!” He said, heading out the back door to finish his work.

“Totally.” Lily sighed, frowning to herself.

The next day, Lily was a complete wreck about meeting Sy's friend.

She had tossed and turned all night, barely getting any sleep as she kept thinking about the meet. She knew the woman was going to be gorgeous, why wouldn't she be, if Sy had been so excited about her being in the States and she was able to capture the attention of his ocean blues. Eventually, Lily got out of bed, tired of not finding a comfortable position and peace of mind to fall asleep. Besides, knowing her luck, she'd be subjected to dreaming about meeting the lady and all her, super model glory.

So, she padded down to her office and flipped on her computer, deciding to get her day started early and finish the few projects she had going on with a couple of clients. But, not even that helped her forget about the situation, if anything it made it worse, her leg impatiently bouncing to the tune of her agitation and self-pity. Running a hand through her hair for the hundredth time, before putting it back up, yet again, she huffed and stood up, pacing the floor of her office, from the window to the door, and back, biting her fingernails and mumbling to herself.

“Why would you even have the remotest chance with a guy like Austin Syverson?” She berated herself, yet again. “Good lord, look at the man! He's an actual man and you've never even kissed a boy. He's the whole package and you're just full of baggage. This is definition of friend zoned, and you bloody well know it!”

Sy had driven back to Austin after leaving Lily's place the night before. He was so excited to retrieve Aika from quarantine. It felt like an age since they last saw each other, but not as long as it might have felt, if he hadn't had Lily for company and the work on the farm to do, day in and day out.

“Fuck,” He huffed, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. “I really hope the two of them get along.” He mumbled to himself, fidgeting in his seat. “Maybe, I should have told her about Aika. What if she's allergic to dogs, or doesn't even like them?” He questioned, suddenly doubting himself. “I know she likes horses, but a dog isn't a horse, and the horse isn't on her property.” He glanced at his mobile phone in the passenger seat, questioning if he should just call Lily and tell her he's bringing his dog to the farm, for her to meet.

“No.” Sy shook his head, brushing it off. “It'll be fine. This will be great! They'll get along perfectly and it'll be a happily ever after.” He nodded, pushing himself to be positive as he pulled into the facility to pick Aika up. “Captain Austin Syverson, here for my dog, Aika.” He told the lady at the front desk, then signed the release paperwork, while they brought her out to him.

“Hey, girl!” Sy called, as Aika charged for him. “Oh, I've missed you so much, bug!” He said, rubbing her erect ears and scratched down her back, making her back leg go wild. “I've got someone special I want you to meet.” He said, getting the German Shepherd into his truck. “You're going to love her.” He smiled at Aika, who licked his scruffy cheek.

“And she's probably going to spoil you rotten.” He chuckled, pulling out of the parking space.

“Oh shit.”

Lily gulped seeing the kicked up dust cloud on the driveway, as Sy's truck approached the house and felt her heart stop, knowing at any moment, she would be meeting his special lady in a matter of minutes. She had been trying all morning to put on a brave and supportive face, not wanting to make herself look like a fool in front of them. “I can't do this.” She gulped, running into the bathroom upstairs and vomited into the bowel several times, before quickly brushing and rinsing her mouth out.

“Afternoon, Lily!” Sy yelled, getting out and giving her a wave as she stepped out onto the porch, he was positively beaming. “You ready to meet her?” He asked, gripping the handle of the passenger door.

“Yep!” She called back, forcing a smile. “As I can be.” She mumbled under her breath as Sy opened the door.

A bark filled the humid air and a big German Shepherd jumped out of the truck, jumping on Sy a few times, before noticing Lily and bee-lining for her.

“Oh.” Lily gasped, surprised that Sy's special lady, was a dog. “Hey.” She grinned at Aika, bracing herself has Aika put her paws on her chest. “Aren't you a beauty.” She said, scratching her erect ears and relieved beyond all belief.

“See, I told you the two of you would get along.” Sy said, stepping up on the porch, relieved as well.

“That you did.” Lily agreed. “What's her name?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Aika.” He replied, scratching Aika all over. “I found her as a stray during my last deployment, she was just a pup. So, I took her in and took care of her. She's been stuck in Quarantine since before I got back, and they just released her today.” He explained as Aika bolted off the porch and zoomed around the front yard.

“You don't mind me having her here, do you?” He asked, biting the corner of his lip.

“Are you kidding?” Lily laughed, watching Aika disappear in the tall grass. “She's more than welcomed here.” She assured him, with a sweet smile. “Any time.”

“She's not really used to grass.” Sy laughed, as Aika attempted to pee on every blade she could. “You might get a few holes as well.” He added, knowing the Shepherd's like to dig.

“Please, I doubt anyone will notice.” Lily giggled, looking around the neglected yard.

Sy went to work on his latest project on the property and Aika spent most of the day running around the land, investigating what Sy was up to or lounging on the floor in Lily's office upstairs. Lily sighed and rubbed her face as the phone downstairs in the kitchen rang. She pushed back in her office chair and carefully stepped over Aika, to pad down the small set of stairs that led directly into the kitchen from the upstairs.

“Hello?” She chimed, pressing the receiver to her ear with her shoulder, waving at Sy as he passed the kitchen window and rounded the side of the house, then frowned, when no one answered her greeting. “Hello?” She repeated, a little bit louder. “Are you there?” She asked, checking to make sure the call was connected properly.

“What's wrong?” Sy frowned, stepping into the kitchen as the receiver fell to the floor at their feet.

“Nothing.” She squeaked, quickly bending to pick it up. “Just being clumsy.” She told him, hanging the phone up.

“Well, who was it?” He asked, tilting his head at her strange behavior.

“I don't know.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders and ran a hand through her hair, not turning around to look at him. “They never said anything. Must have been a wrong number or something.” She told him, heart thundering in her chest. “I need to finish my work.” She said, then rushed upstairs, leaving Sy staring up after her.

“I talked to your neighbor, Billie Marlowe.” Sy said, tugging a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face and head with it.

“Oh?” Lily replied, stirring a bit of honey into her tea.

“Yeah, he said, his daughter, Skylar, would be competing in a barrel racing competition this Sunday, in Dallas.” He told her, studying her carefully. “I was wondering, if you had thought about, maybe, going with me?” He asked, licking his lips.

Lily froze, the container of liquid creamer hovering over her steaming cup as she stared across the table at him, eyes wide. “I-”

“Oh, come on.” Sy pressed, brow creasing. “It's my treat. I'll drive and everything. It'll do you some good to leave the house.” He tried coaxing her. “Just for an hour or two.”

Lily continued to stare at Sy, her hand growing sweaty around the plastic container, before she set it down, her shoulders slumping as she did. “All right. Only for a few hours, then we come back. I have a deadline.”

Sy burst into a grin, his blue eyes bright. “Great.” He said, rubbing his hands together. “It doesn't start until eight and her competition doesn't start until eight-thirty. So, we'll have plenty of time.” He told her, excited to go to the fair with her.

Three days later, Sy got Lily in the car and they drove forty-five minutes from Celina to Dallas. The first few minutes in the car was quiet, until Luna's nerves got the best of her.

“When was the last time you went to a fair?” She asked, looking at him.

“Oh, man.” Sy huffed, frowning out the windshield as he considered it. “I think I was sixteen, it was an end of the year thing for my Junior year at high school. I didn't go to my Senior one, since I was getting ready for basic training.” He told her.

“What about you?” He asked, glancing at her.

“Never.”

“You've never been to one?” Sy snapped, shocked.

“Nope.” She shook her head at him.

“Not even for school?”

“I was home schooled.” She explained. “My dad thought they were a suck and waste of money.”

“That's the point.” Sy laughed, shaking his head. “Wasting money on artery clogging food and probably unsafe rides. It's a rush, but mostly from all the sugar.” He grinned at her, amused.

“You'll love it, I swear.”

“I'll take your word for it, Captain.” Lily smiled back, hoping he didn't see how freaked out she was.

They finally reached the fair grounds and a place to park, Sy got them all access bracelets, so giddy as they entered the fair grounds. Lily took several deep breaths as the crowd around them thickened and stuck close to Sy. She really didn't want to ruin Sy's fun at the fair, he had been jabbering about it since she agreed to go with him, telling her about the all fun rides and food. He was like a little boy, reliving his first fair experience, and she knew it had been over ten years since he had been to one. So, she put on a brave face and tried to smile, every time he glanced at her.

Which was every few seconds.

Sy and Lily got on several rides to kill the half hour until the barrel-racing competition started under one of the big tents set up in the huge field. She rather enjoyed the Ferris wheel, just her and Sy in one seat, spaced out from everyone else on the ride. She did think she was going to throw up on the sudden drop ride, but managed to keep it down, making Sy laugh at her as he saw her face from the corner of his eye as the two of them got off the ride.

“You all right?” He chuckled, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“I think, my stomach is somewhere between my brain and my toes.” She chuckled, despite herself.

“It'll even out again.” Sy laughed with her, rubbing her back.

“Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls,” the fair announcer came over the intercom system throughout the fair. “The Barrel-Racing Competition is due to start in ten minutes, in tent number six! So, find your seats now!” He informed the herd of fair-goers.

“Oh, we should head out that way.” Sy said, pulling out the little fair map and directed them towards the tent. “Why don't you find us a place to sit and I'll go get us something to munch and sip on.” He told her, at the tent's entrance.

“Sy..”

“It'll take two minutes.” He told her, squeezing her shoulder, then disappearing into the crowd that was trying to funnel into the tent.

“Fuck, Austin.” Lily gulped, starting to tremble as she turned into the tent and looked for somewhere to sit, before finding a place in the second row, near the exit.

Sy weaved around the countless people in the main walkway of the fair, before spotting a food vendor with something he thought Lily would love to try out and headed that direction, to standing in line. He was only in the line for a moment, when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see who it was, breaking out into a smile.

“Mr. Marlowe.” He greeted the farmer, sticking his hand out to the other man.

“Please, just call me Billie.” Marlowe replied, smiling up at Sy and shook his hand.

“Sy.” Sy answered. “You must be excited to see your little girl compete.” He said, as they stood side by side and progressed through the line.

“That I am.” Billie beamed, like the proud papa he was. “I am surprised at you though.” He added, pulling off his John Deere hat, ran his hand through his short, salt and pepper hair, and rubbed the over-tanned skin of his neck.

“Why's that?” Sy frowned, shaking his head.

“I saw Ms. Lily with you.” Billie replied as they got to the counter. “My farm has been in my family for four generations. I knew the couple that lived at Ms. Lily's place, when I was a lad. They passed away and their kids didn't want to be farmers, so they sold the place and Ms. Lily bought it a few years back. In that time, I have never seen her leave the property. The closest I've ever seen was when she fetches the mail, and she does that in a jiffy.” He laughed, stepping up to one of the two cashiers, while Sy went to the other.

“What do you mean?” Sy frowned, then gave the cashier an order for two elephant ears, a coke for himself and a Dr. Pepper for Lily.

“Oh.” Billie frowned, realizing Sy had no clue.

“'Oh', what?” Sy pressed, annoyed.

“You don't know about Ms. Lily being Agoraphobic?” Billie asked slowly, blinking at Sy with a shocked look. “I thought you knew. Practically everyone in Celina knows about it. My boy, Travis, who works at the Celina supermarket, even gets her groceries for her and delivers them, and everything.”

Sy floundered, his mouth opening and closing for a moment. “I didn't.” He sighed, clearing his throat. “I just thought she was a home-body.” He said, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose she is a home-body, it's just a bit more complicated than that.”

He felt silly, all of the signs were there, right in front of his oblivious face. He had never seen her leave the property in the weeks he was there working. She was always, either, in the house or on the porch, the furthest from the house he had ever seen her was the mailbox. She got clearly anxious about any mention of leaving to go anywhere, and her car hadn't moved since the first time he saw it in the dirt driveway. Everything made so much sense to him now, with the sudden realization he had left her, alone, in a tent full of complete strangers.

“Shit!” He barked, taking the food and drinks and rushing back to the tent. “Are you okay?” He asked, as soon as he found her in the crowded stands.

“Other than starving, I'm all right.” She replied, looking up at him.

“You're sure?” He asked and sat down beside her, he could see the tremble in her shoulders. “You're shaking.” He pointed out, his brow creasing with concern.

Why did I push her into this! He berated himself mentally.

“I'm just cold.” She frowned back, which wasn't a complete lie, it was rather nippy out and she had left her jacket in the truck.

“Oh.” Sy gulped at her, setting their snacks down on the empty bench in front of them and peeled off his Five Finger Death Punch hoodie. “Here.” He said, handing her the toasty warm garment.

“Thanks.” She blushed, pulling it on.

The comforting warmth of the fabric settled around her, wrapping her up in Sy's scent of dark vanilla, the fresh cut pine boards he had been working with, fresh air and patchouli, from his beard oil. The tremor vibrating through her body instantly subsided as she huddled herself up inside Sy's hoodie, suddenly feeling safe, safer than she had ever felt in her life before, the murmur of the crowd vanished and everyone melted away, but Sy.

Sy smiled at her, watching as she stopped shaking. “Are you still hungry?” He asked her, picking up the heavy paper plate with the lumpy and sweet pastry dough on it, covered in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar.

“What in the world is that?” She frowned down at it.

“It's called an Elephant Ear.” He chuckled, letting her take the plate from him and picked up his own. “It's delicious.”

“It's as big as one!” She chuckled, balancing it in her lap and pushed up the oversized sleeves of Sy's hoodie, not wanting to get it messy as she tore a piece of the dough off and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm.” She melted, licking her coated lips. “That is sinful.” She moaned, smiling over at Sy, who simply folded his and took a massive bite out of it.

“I told you!” He mumbled around his mouthful, grinning ear to ear.

“I might have to learn how to make these.” Lily said, tearing off a bigger piece and licked her fingers clean of the cinnamon and sugar combination.

“Oh, don't threaten to spoil a man!” Sy laughed, gently touching his shoulder to hers.

“Hey, here she is!” Lily called out, pointing to the girl entering the center of the tent atop a horse. “They look so good together!” She grinned, beaming with her own dose of pride in Skylar and Juniper.

Lily lifted her hand and waved as Skylar looked out over the crowd, she spotted Lily and waved back at her, smiling. Skylar got herself and Juniper into position, taking deep breaths to try and settle her jittery nerves and focus on her task ahead. Skylar was given the signal and she was off, speeding as fast as she and Juniper could go towards the first barrel in front of them. Lily scooted towards the edge of her seat, her half eaten elephant ear forgotten in her excitement. Skylar seemingly sailed through the cloverleaf pattern she had to make around the barrels and back to her mark.

The crowd clapped as she went out, letting the next rider and their horse take their turn at the competition. Lily finished off her elephant ear and sipped at her Dr. Pepper, eyes glued to the beautiful horses and focused riders as they went around and around the barrels, kicking up dirt as they went.

“I really hope she wins.” Lily said, looking at Sy, only to realize he had been watching her the whole time, and not the racers. “What?” She squeaked, eyes wide. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” He smiled back, then chuckled. “Well..” He picked up the paper napkin he was given with the elephant ears and gently brushed off a line of brown sugar and cinnamon that Lily had on her cheek. “Just a little sugar.” He told her, softly.

“But, other than that, you're...” He paused for a moment. “Perfect.” He whispered, breathlessly.

Lily gulped and her cheeks warmed, biting the inside of her lip and fidgeted inside Sy's hoodie. “Thank you.” She mumbled back. “For the..” She motioned to her cheek, shyly.

“Of course.” Sy nodded, a tender smile on his lips. “But, I hope she wins too.” He added, turning back to the event.

“All right everybody, it's time to announce the winners for first, second and third place!” The announcer said, standing in the middle of the racing area, a microphone in his hand and a big cowboy hat on his head, as his boots shined with their spurs.

Lily crossed her fingers, making Sy chuckle at her.

“In third place is,” the announcer said, lifting a clipboard he was holding. “Paige Whitley with thirty-four seconds!”

The crowd clapped and whistled as the girl came up and took her ribbon for third place, then stood to one side of the announcer.

“In second place is, Ainsley Ortega with twenty-eight seconds!”

Another round of claps, whistling and yells from the crowd as she took her place beside Paige. There was a moment of pause and the suspense was starting to drive Lily stir crazy as they waited for him to announce the first place winner.

“and the first place winner of the Dallas Heritage Fair is,” He paused for a dramatic affect. “Skylar Marlowe with twenty-one seconds!”

“Yes!” Lily shouted, her arms flying up as she bounced in her seat, overjoyed. “She did it, Sy.” She grinned at him, throwing her arms around his neck, in her moment of overzealous excitement, forgetting herself.

“She did.” Sy grinned, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back.

He unconsciously turned his face into her hair and took a deep breath, smelling her Lavender and Rosemary shampoo in it. They stayed like that, in a timeless bubble, before they recalled themselves and pulled apart again.

“I'm sorry, I was excited.” Lily blushed, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Same.” Sy replied, clearing his throat. “I should get you back home now, it's been two hours.” He said, picking up their empty plates, napkins and soda cans, standing.

“I-” Lily froze, watching him dump them into a trash bin nearby. “I don't—mind—staying another hour, if you're not.” She told him, a hard lump in her throat. “I mean, there's so much of the fair I haven't seen, since it's my first time, and you spent a pretty penny on our access bracelets.” She said, lifting her arm, the sleeve of his hoodie slipped down her arm, revealing her red bracelet.

“Be rude and a shame to waste it, don't you think?” She asked, staring at him, shyly.

Sy studied her for a moment, weighing what he knew of her now, but she looked and seemed all right, for the most part, just her usual shy and withdrawn self. “If you want too, Lily. Then, I'm more than all right with staying and showing you the rest of the booths.” He said, his voice soft and—protective.

“I would like that.”

Sy smiled at her, gently, then offered her his arm, which she took. He escorted them out of the tent, with the rest of the fair-goers. Sy took her around the fair ground, stopping at booths that Lily showed interest in. He paused at one booth, seeing all the stuffed animals that were hanging around it and pressed his lips together, before glancing at her and deciding to give it a shot, wanting to win something for her, so when she saw it, she'd remember the fun she had at the fair; and think of him.

It was a shooting game booth, giving the player a minute to hit as many targets as they could, each target was worth a certain amount of points and moved quickly. But, Sy wasn't at all worried, this was his element, his military career made something like this easy. So, he took up the bee-bee rifle that the booth runner gave him, slotted it against his shoulder and held it through pure muscle memory. He patiently waited for the signal for him to start, watching the painted metal targets move on their tracks.

“Ready!” the booth runner called, standing to the side. “Set! Go!”

Sy's body instantly tensed and he started firing, his movement was sharp, quick and calculated, hips and shoulders pivoting as he hit each of the targets, only missing two in the full minute he had. Lily stood beside him, fully impressed by his skill.

“Seven hundred and forty-nine points.” the booth runner read off the scoreboard at the back of the booth. “That's the highest score yet!” He said, impressed himself. “You have a pick of whatever you want, sir.” He told Sy, motioning around to the stuffed animals, some were super teeny, while others were nearly Lily's size.

Sy surveyed the selection of stuffed animals, before a certain one caught his attention and smiled at it, it was perfect for why he wanted it. “That's the one.” He said, pointing out the medium sized, curly furred and light tan, teddy bear.

“A perfect choice, sir.” the booth runner praised him, taking it down and handing it over to Sy.

“Here.” Sy smiled, turning and holding it out to Lily. “He's for you.” He told her, gently, as his heart thundered in his chest.

Lily slowly took the bear from him, it was silk soft and plush, it felt nice under her hands, making her instantly smile as she stared down at it. She was touched that Sy had gone through the trouble of winning the game to get her a prize, no one had ever done something so kind, sweet and thoughtful for her before, it made her a bit emotional.

“Thank you.” She whispered, hugging it to her chest and looked up at Sy. “I love it.” She assured him, seeing the concern in his blue eyes that she wouldn't.

“Good.” He beamed, his heart still thundering, but it felt light and hopeful. “I'm glad.”

It was nearly dark by the time Lily and Sy finished their tour of the fair grounds and headed back to the house. Lily convinced Sy to stay for dinner before he headed back home, wanting to thank him in someway for taking her to the fair and showing her such a good time, something she hadn't had in as long as she could remember.

“Your cooking never fails to amaze me.” Sy chuckled, popping the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth. “It's the definition of a great home cooked meal.” He praised her, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his lean tummy through the fabric of his shirt.

“Well, you have the appetite of a Viking.” She giggled back, blushing at her plate.

Sy laughed again, his own bearded cheeks coloring. “True enough.” He agreed, smiling brightly at her.

“Thank you for taking me today.” Lily said, speaking softly. “I really did have a lot of fun.” She confessed, shyly twisting her napkin in her hands, and thinking of the teddy bear that now took up a prized spot on her bed, upstairs.

“I did too, I'm glad you agreed to go with me.” Sy nodded, tilting his head at her. “Did us both a great deal of good to get out and do something fun.”

“I should let you take off, before it gets too late.” She answered, after a brief moment of silence. “I know it's a long drive.”

Sy cleared his throat, biting the inside of his lip, he didn’t want to bring up staying at the motel down in Celina, so the drive was easier to make and gave him more hours in the day to work on the seemingly endless list of projects that needed to be done, to get the farm back into running order, again. He didn’t want them to argue after such an amazing day.

But, he knew she was right.

“Thanks for dinner.” He said, taking his plate to the sink, wanting a reason to linger a second longer. “Good night, Ms. Lily.” He smiled at her, as they stepped out onto the porch. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“I'll be here, with coffee and breakfast waiting, as always.” She replied, standing barefoot on the smooth and solid board of the porch.

He chuckled, bidding her good night again and got into his truck. As he drove to the motel, he recalled all the smiles she had given him throughout the day and the sound of her victorious laugh, when she beat him at the ring toss game, but sweetly gave him the bracelet she won, making him glance at the macrame, blue and gold turquoise beads weaved with black thread and tied with a slip knot, that hugged his thick wrist. His skin tingled as it remembered the gentle touch of her dainty fingers as she slipped it over his hand to his wrist and tugged it secure.

Sy wasn't a jewelry person, other than his watch and his dog-tags, but for as long as he lived, he vowed to never take that bracelet off.

[maomao-words]

Here is another self-indulgent piece of writing!  (✿´‿`)

I binged Blue Lock’s manga in 3 days and I am now left with an empty void that I’m trying to fill by writing about my favorite characters in it.

On a side-note, I always seem to think of them as 18-19 years old. 

Contains few spoilers on some characters’ ranks after the Third Selection!

Being their Personal Manager at Blue Lock: (Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi, Hyoma Chigiri)

Rin Itoshi:

Being assigned to the 1st ranker in all of Blue Lock immediately after your adaptability test barely shocked anyone. At this point in time where the whole existence of Blue Lock centered around Itoshi Rin, it was more than obvious that Rin would only receive the utmost care and the very best of the candidates as his manager.

Ranking first in the agonizingly harsh Entrance Exam and managing to out best all 600 other candidates from over the country, you were always the sole choice for Itoshi Rin’s personal manager.

You were already familiar with Rin’s character, preferences, weaknesses, strengths, diet and overall living style. You even had his body measurements down to the millimeter engraved in your brain. You thought yourself as perfectly ready to assist him in his endeavor, but reality soon proved you slightly wrong.

Meeting the genius called Itoshi Rin for the first time, you swore your blood ran cold within your veins the minute his eyes locked with yours. An oppressive aura, suffocating enough to send shivers down your back, surrounded you immediately the minute you stepped into his room. It took all of your willpower not to tremble in front of him.

Rin’s gaze did not move from yours for what seemed like an eternity, but noticing no visible signs of fear or submission on you, his lips slightly curved in a smirk and he finally stood up from his chair, discarding your test results on the table nearby.

“Not bad. She’ll do for now.”

Once you gained Rin’s initial approval, you started your mission as his closest aid. From the moment Rin opened his eyes to the minute he closed his door at night to sleep, you never left his side. You calculated his calories intake and planned his meals accordingly. You carefully reserved the training field and machines to Rin’s own wishes, making absolute sure they are available for Rin to use without any interruption or interference from other players. You planned, ran around, filled up water bottles and picked up emergency kits more quickly than you have ever did back in your own school’s competitive soccer club. You did that over and over again, to the point that you felt like dying. Until you finally broke down.

But being Itoshi Rin’s personal aid did not even offer you the privilege of breaking down in public. You waited until the day’s clamor and chaos was over. You meticulously prepared Rin’s lunch and reminded him to take the few tablets of vitamins afterwards before finally excusing yourself.

Rin raised a brow in faint confusion, as you have never willingly separated yourself from his side, even during meals. But the wound within your chest has finally festered to the point of no return, and you were unable to provide him with a convincing explanation before you gathered your papers and left.

The empty hallway located far from the center cafeteria soon echoed with your faint sobs. You gathered up your knees close to your chest and slowly rocked yourself in hopes of easing your pain. Weeks of harsh labor, zero communication with the outside world as well as the stress that came with handling all of Rin’s demanding responsibilities finally bled over.

You were not giving up. ‘Make no mistake,’ you whispered to yourself between sobs. You were just taking a much earned break before drying up your tears and returning to work.

But just as you began to feel frustrated at the tears still falling on your cheeks, you felt a heavy cloth fall on top of your head accompanied with an extremely familiar fragrance.

You jolted, hand coming up to clutch at Rin’s jacket before glancing up at the tall figure standing by your side. You opened your mouth but a round package slammed into your face next, leaving you to wince in pain.

“Eat that and let’s hurry back. I can’t find my black cleats.”

Rin’s voice echoed in the empty hall, forcing you to bring your attention to the melon bread he threw at you. Sounds of clothes rustling beside you made you look up again, only to find that Rin has sat down beside you, hand coming up to tug you closer to him.

Placing his palm on top of your eyes, Rin’s voice sounded as soft as ever as he whispered.

“Rest. I’m here.”

Seishiro Nagi:

As you stared down at your test results that have finally arrived after a long wait, you suddenly had the urge to cry out. 

Why him of all people?

Having extensively studied all of Blue Lock’s key players prior to passing the Entrance Exam as a manager, you were filled with admiration and respect to them and thus felt ready to be assigned to any of them. Any of them but Nagi Seishiro.

A beginning who did not even know the most basic of the basics on football yet somehow blessed enough to be labeled as a genius even among Blue Lock’s outstanding participants. That was Nagi Seichiro.

You abhorred geniuses. You abhorred how easily they reached their goals, how effortlessly they achieved their desires and how the entire world seemed to bow down in front of them. Becoming the personal manager of a hard working individual, like Isagi Yoichi for example, would have made you the happiest woman on the planet. To watch that individual sweat and toil, think and plan all of his minor actions in order to reach the pinnacle of his dreams through both talent and hard work and get to assist him in that process was the reason behind your entrance to Blue Lock.

So when the day where the eleven chosen managers entered the isolated towering building to meet the elite players ranking at the top of the whole project came, all you could taste was bitterness and rage in your mouth.

After Ego finished the basic introductions between managers and players, he gave the green light for you all to start performing your duties. As you began to collect your belongings that were delivered to you by the staff, you could see the tall figure of a young man approaching you from behind.

Without allowing Nagi the faintest chance to offer his help, you hoisted your luggage up with both hands and started walking towards the managers’’ sleeping quarters with only “I will be back shortly” thrown behind your back at the frozen Nagi.

A job was a job after all and you had no intention to slack off because of your personal dislikes. But you will be sure to maintain a professional distance from Blue Lock’s 6th ranker to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

Being Nagi’s personal manager was as hard as you have expected. Having to support a monster who does not cease to evolve with each passing day at a frightening pace would be considered had by anyone’s standards. But you were already aware of the heavy duties imposed on you from the start so you grinded your teeth and bared the pain. The only issue you seemed to have was, unsurprisingly, Nagi himself.

You have intended for your cold treatment the day you both met to be enough warning for the player. You wanted to perform your duties. Nothing less, nothing more. But Nagi seemed to have another idea on the relationship between you. 

He did not hinder your tasks nor act difficult on purpose to harm you, but he also made sure to greet you warmly each morning before plopping his large hand on top of your head and gently pat your hair for a few minutes before leaving.

He made sure to stick close to you during meal time, pushing off whatever he deemed not-tasty to your own plate, and innocently smiling when your try to scold him. He always shared his dessert with you, no matter how many times you tried to lie and tell him you disliked sweets. He constantly tried his best not to overburden you with questions on players and tactics and carefully chose the times where you were free enough to answer him.

In short, Nagi Seichiro was a weirdo. A weirdo you wanted to choke.

As the time went by, your perspective on Nagi was entirely transformed, despite yourself. You started to put extra care into his meals, go beyond what is required of you when it came to taking care of his training schedule and treatment and even sacrifice some of your free time in order to answer as much of his questions as you can.

One morning, as Nagi stepped in the room and smiled brightly at you, you found yourself moving in closer to him before raising your arms and catching him in a tight hug. Nagi almost stumbled in surprise, but managed to stable you both as he wrapped his hands behind your back. But before he could even utter a word, your mouth opened and a joyful, “Good morning Sei-chan!” came out.

Hyoma Chigiri:

“Are you sure you wish to be assigned to Chigiri?” Ego’s detached voice echoed in the almost empty hall, stopping you in your tracks. The results of the Blue Lock Entrance Exam for managers were just announced and the chosen eleven were asked to pack up and be ready to leave in a two-hours frame.

“You do realize that your rank actually qualifies you to become Itoshi’s Rin support, don’t you?” Ego’s fingers tapped on the table in a rhythmic manner, not stopping even as you glared at him.

“Yes, sir, I am well aware of that fact. But my decision will not change.” Your voice, calm and steady, caused Blue Lock’s host to grin, his raven locks falling to the side as he tilted his head to inspect you closely. “A calculative, rational and logical tactician as you, who managed to outrank all 600 other participants in a six hour long exam, is moved by mere personal emotions?”

It was hard for any regular person to detect the mockery dripping from each of Ego’s words and not feel their blood boiling within their veins. Only you slightly smirked at Ego, eyes curving in genuine mirth as you joyfully answered: “Yes! Is there any problem?”

All the struggles you have faced so far in order to reach this point were, after all, done for the sake of one person: Hyoma Chigiri. Specializing in medical treatment and athletic injuries as a manager was not a coincidence. You have long became aware of your intense desire to support Chigiri and aid him in his journey to achieve his dreams. No matter how many people laughed at you both, no matter how many criticized your choices and claimed you could do much, much better than an injured boy, playing on borrowed time, your resolve never shook.

As you finally locked eyes with Chigiri after your arrival at Blue Lock, you saw how his shoulders slightly trembled and his eyes widened, and your resolve was instantly renewed. Not many words were needed as you playfully extended your hand to shake Chigiri’s own. He was aware that you were there for him and that you will not change your mind no matter what he says or does.

Your duties at Blue Lock were slightly easier than your fellow managers simply due to the fact that you were already familiar with Chigiri’s routine. Needing no time to adjust, you dove head first into taking care of Chigiri, putting the well-being of his knee as your utmost priority. You tried your best not to bite your lips each time you bent down to take a look at the previously injured area, fully knowing that Chigiri has made his peace with the incident and was now focusing on moving on with no regrets.

Your favorite task to perform was, and still is, taking care of Chigiri’s silky hair. You were faced with his slightly damaged locks the day you arrived at Blue Lock’s building and Chigiri had to apologize a couple of times for ruining the hair you treasured the most. Ever since then, you returned to your usual task of picking hair products for him, drying and styling his hair depending on Chigiri’s schedule for the day. Braids were your go-to style but you also enjoyed changing things up, knowing that it made Chigiri happy each time you tried to come up with a new hairdo.

Now that you were finally reunited with your childhood friend and lover, you were ready to give it your all and see it all to its final end.

[sparklysung]

✨ADRENALINE RUSH PART II – n.j.m.✨

© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – na jaemin x female!reader

genre – fluff, smut, angst | non-idol!au, school!au

warnings – good boy!soft dom!jaemin, bad girl!reader, heartbreak, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), creampie, dirty talk, pet names

word count – 4.731 words

summary – after leaving jaemin alone in the school’s library, there wasn’t only one heart broken.

note – it’s finally here! i hope it isn’t too bad, though, i don’t think i’m too good at writing stuff like this lmao. either way, enjoy! also, the gif isn’t mine, i found it on google, so credit to its owner! 

taglist – @junguwuuu , @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername, @carelessshootanonymous 

part i ; part ii

the next few days after you left jaemin all alone in the school’s library, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

you weren’t supposed to feel guilty, after all, that’s what you usually did; hookup with guys you found attractive and then never reach out for them again, pretending to not know them. and you have never had a problem with it before, you never got attached and they were aware of your reputation, so they knew what they were getting into.

but for some reason, jaemin was… different.

you weren’t really sure why, but something about him just made you feel things, things you have never felt with anyone else. you have never felt so good with any of the guys you had hooked up with. and by that, you didn’t only mean how good his touch felt on you, but also the sweet way he reacted to your loving pet names and caresses. 

your heartless attitude only earned you what you had never thought you, a self-proclaimed cold-hearted bad girl would ever experience. 

heartbreak.

now, jaemin tried everything to avoid you. he got out of his way so you wouldn’t bump into each other, leaving class as fast as humanly possible just so you wouldn’t be able to approach him.  though he doubted you would ever get near him again, so he was actually doing you a favour, right?

after all, why else would you have left the way you did after your little rendezvous?

every time you happened to be in a room he had just stepped into, he turned around and left without giving you a second glance, face expressionless. but even when he tried to act tough in front of everyone else, you could see the pain in his eyes and it was slowly killing you. 

truth is, you felt like a complete jerk.

scratch that, you knew you were.

but how could you comprehend the effect your actions had on jaemin if you didn’t even care?

as he had realized when you decided to walk away from him that awful day in the library, he meant nothing to you. and even though it hurt him to no end, that’s how life is.

cruel.

his friends knew something had happened to him. they could see how the usual spark in jaemin’s eyes was completely gone after you two got together to work on your genetics project. he usually kept to himself, which wasn’t really out of the ordinary coming from him, but lately he barely talked, only answering with monosyllables. he stopped taking part in their conversations, not even intervening when renjun and donghyuck’s bickering got out of hand.

“hey, nana, are you coming to chenle’s place later today? we’ll probably stay over and play games in his huge ass tv.” jeno’s cheerful voice made jaemin look up from his untouched lunch. he just nodded slightly before looking back down to his food.

he didn’t feel like talking or hanging out with anyone, but noticing the worried expression that had replaced jeno’s usual bright smile, he tried to put on his best smile. “sure,” he tried to reassure him. jeno didn’t seem so convinced, though he didn’t say anything about it.

his friends also noticed how he seemed to disappear whenever you were nearby, which confirmed their suspicions of something happening between you two. he usually took his time to get ready for his next class and was fairly organized, but from that day on, he didn’t even try, throwing all his belongings inside his back before rushing out of the door. 

they were determined to find out what had happened with you to make jaemin stop being his usual self. the only problem was, how were they going to get it out of him?

~.~.~.~

“hyuck, go open the door, it must be jaemin.” jaemin could hear renjun’s voice yell from somewhere inside the house.

“ugh, you’re so annoying,” donghyuck rolled his eyes as he opened the door before going back upstairs to what he assumed was chenle’s room.

“dang, not even a hello,” shaking his head in disapproval, jaemin made his way inside, closing the door after himself.

noise –or more like screams– could be heard coming from upstairs as his friends were most likely already playing some game. he walked towards the kitchen where he found renjun and jeno preparing sandwiches and other snacks for all of them. when they saw jaemin walking in, they stopped what they were doing to look at him.

“hey, you came,” renjun smiled, happy to see his friend coming out of his newfound shell. just like the other guys, he was concerned about his sudden change of demeanor. he honestly missed his presence and dumb comments. not that he would ever tell him, though.

“can you help us with the drinks please?” jeno asked, hands full of snacks. 

jaemin just nodded his head before taking six cups to fill with any drink he could find in chenle’s fridge. after they had emptied half of the cabinets, the three boys made their way to his friend’s bedroom in silence.

none of them knew what to say, or more like how to say it. renjun and jeno were dying to ask jaemin what was going on, why did he decide to stop hanging out as much with them, if they were right about you being involved in whatever happened. and jaemin could tell. he wasn’t blind to not notice the weird looks they constantly threw at each other, the way they quieted down every time he approached them. but he didn’t want to admit the mistake he had made. he couldn’t look them in the face after spoiling all their efforts to prevent this very situation from happening.

what would they think of him?

he was supposed to be the cautious one of them all, the one who wouldn’t get fooled so easily, the responsible one. but even if he knew for a fact you didn’t have good intentions, he still let himself fall and ended up hurt. how could he take care of his friends if he couldn’t even take care of himself. 

“what took you so long?” jisung asked once they made it to their destination, snatching a few bags of chips from renjun’s arms.

“next time you’ll go get food, then,” the older boy clicked his tongue in annoyance, going to sit next to chenle on the bed.

nobody was surprised when jaemin sat by himself in a corner of the room, quietly staring at the floor. he didn’t even try to take part in their conversations, just nodding from time to time to assure them he was still listening. no one knew how to approach the situation, so chenle, tired of the weird ambiance the group of boys had been engulfed in for some time now, decided to take the initiative.

“what’s going on, jaemin? why can’t you tell us?” jaemin felt cold, mouth ajar in shock. he wasn’t expecting the topic to be brought up so soon and neither chenle to be the first one to confront him about it. “don’t even try to deny something’s up, we’re not dumb.”  

“we want to help you, but we can’t do anything if you don’t trust us enough to tell us.”

and in that moment, jaemin finally broke.

“i fucked up,” his voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes, making his vision blurry.

“what? what do you mean?” donghyuck intervened. he wasn’t one to usually show concern but seeing his friend so distressed made his heart hurt.

“i hooked up with y/n that day we were supposed to work on our project.” 

“we t-.”

“i know, alright! i know it was a mistake and i shouldn’t have let it happen, but now i don’t know what to do,” jaemin thought that venting to someone else about what happened would maybe make him feel better, but it didn’t, if something it actually made him feel worse. he was sure his friends though he was the biggest idiot in the whole world.

“shh, it’s okay, come here,” jeno opened his arms for jaemin, so the broken boy hugged him tightly, hiding the pained expression on his face in the elder’s shoulder.

“i don’t get it, how did this all happen?” a confused jisung asked, not understanding how the hell a simple project in pairs ended up in a hookup.

“i told her to meet me at the library so we wouldn’t be alone. i thought nothing could happen because there would be a lot of people around us, but things didn’t work out the way i thought they would,” and as jaemin told them the whole story, they couldn’t help but pity their friend.

“i thought maybe this time it would be different, you know? she talked to me as if she cared about me,” the dry chuckle he let out made the boys feel uneasy, “and i believed it.”

none of them doubted jaemin had at least a crush on you. yeah, sure, what you did was certainly not nice, but you weren’t together in any way. And that’s how hookups work, right? you fuck and then you leave. no feelings attached.

right?

“so you like her?” renjun asked, although it sounded more like a statement. 

“i think i do.”

~.~.~.~

as much anxiety the thought of having to face you again sparked in jaemin, you both still needed to finish the project and you only had two days left. even if he didn’t feel ready to talk to you yet –though he doubted he would ever be–, he had to man up for the sake of his grades.

seeing as his strategy of working on it in a crowded place didn’t work, there wasn’t another option but to section the project and get it done each on its own.

so that’s what he intended when he waited for you in your locker, practicing his next move over and over again. the only thought in his head was getting out of the situation as soon as he could to avoid any kind of unnecessary interaction.

he was scared of his heart controlling his body and his actions rather than his head, as it would inevitably end in him falling for you once again and only more pain. it would be the perfect formula for yet another heartbreak.

and you were completely shocked when you saw him standing next to your locker, apparently waiting for you. 

“you can finish the first half, i’ll do what’s left,” his eyes stayed trained on the floor as he spoke. he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him so affected, so as soon as the words left his mouth, he was on his way, trying to flee the scene before you could react. 

“jaemin, wait!” he stopped dead in his tracks, not bothering to turn around and look at you. “look, i-i’m really sor-.”

but he didn’t stay to hear the end of it.

he walked away just like you had done not even a week ago.

feeling a lump in your throat that made it harder for you to breathe, your heart shattered into tiny pieces you didn’t care to pick up as you stood frozen in place.

but yours wasn’t the only heart broken.

jaemin walked home with a heavy heart, eyes stinging from tears that threatened to run down his cheeks. his friends had warned him and yet there he was, sulking over you.

he felt like a fool. how could he have fallen into your trap? he knew the type of girl you were; a heartbreaker, a player, the bad girl. but either way, his heart betrayed him, pumping furiously whenever you smiled at him, whenever you got close enough for him to inhale your sweet perfume and feel your minty breath fan over his face.

anger boiled in his veins, why did you have to play with him like that? what did he ever do wrong to deserve it? he had never bothered you, always staying in his lane and out of your way. he didn’t like confrontations so he stayed away from them, and being near you always included some kind of trouble.

but what hurt him the most was that he actually believed your sweet words, soft touches and loving kisses meant something. that he was stupid enough to think they meant the same to you as to him.

as you watched his figure disappear in the distance, you realized you had fucked up big time and you weren’t sure there was any way you could fix it.

~.~.~.~

the very next day you found yourself walking as fast as your legs allowed you around the campus to find jaemin. you probably looked like you had gone crazy to everyone you walked past, hair messy and tired face. you pulled an all-nighter the night before, determined to finish your part of the project. you really weren’t that interested in your grade. actually, your only motivation was finding an excuse to talk to him.

half an hour later, you still hadn’t been able to find jaemin. you were utterly and completely frustrated, it felt like you had just wasted your time. but just as you were about to give up on your search, you found him.

he was walking down the hallway towards the opposite direction and away from you. you could only see the back of his head, but you could tell he wasn’t looking ahead but at the floor, like he had been doing ever since that day. your feet started moving on their own, directing you to him. 

“jaemin, please, listen to me,” your fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist in an attempt to make him stay. he didn’t want to turn around, he didn’t want to see you or be anywhere near you.

the memory of you leaving the library after using him for your own pleasure hunted him. it may sound dramatic, but jaemin was tired of the pain you brought him. he hated the way your voice still made him feel all giddy and warm inside, he wanted to forget you for good and go on with his life as it was before.

“why should i?”

“because i want to apologize, just hear me out for a second,” you pleaded, not being able to find one good reason for him to stay.

“why would you even be sorry, anyway? you’ve never cared about others, why now and why me?” a bitter, full of hurt chuckle left his lips, eyes rolling in irony. his words felt like a punch to the stomach, the cold tone of his voice making your heart crack.

he was right, you had never cared about anyone else but yourself.

the cold-hearted behaviour jaemin witnessed in that library was what got you your infamous reputation at school; you did whatever you needed to do without looking back to see how it affected others.

that’s why it hurt so much now that you also cared about him.

“because you’re different,” you whispered, eyes closed in distress and white knuckles from how hard you were clenching your fists.

“w-what do you mean? stop playing around, i’m tired of getting hurt.”

“jaemin,” your expression softened, voice coming out in a sigh and helping him relax a little. “i’m not playing with you,” you took a deep breath before proceeding to spill your guts.

“i know i made a huge mistake acting the way i did, and when i say i’m sorry i really, truly mean it. i’m aware that the wound has already been done, but it makes my heart feel heavy to see you avoiding me. it’s selfish, i know, but i don’t want you to be away from me. i-i’m not sure what these feelings are or where they came from, the only thing i know is that i don’t want them to go away.”

what in the world was happening?

“i think i like you, na jaemin.”

“you like… m-me?” confusion was written all over his face, he couldn’t tell if you were being honest or not.

“yes, i like you, and if you’d give me a second opportunity i promise i’d make it worth it.”

and as much pain you had been causing him for the last few days, he couldn’t contain the butterflies that erupted in the pit of his stomach when he saw the sincerity your eyes held. 

his body moved without him realizing, walking towards you until he could smell your sweet scent. you didn’t back down, staying still with eyes locked in his even when you were sure he could hear the crazy beating of your heart. you hoped he believed you, but even if he didn’t, you were determined to prove it to him, regardless of the price. 

a surprised gasp fell from your lips when he leaned in with eyes closed, lips locking in a mind-blowing kiss. he tasted the same as last time, but the moment felt different. this kiss was less rushed, filled with strong feelings that you hoped were reciprocated.

had he accepted your apology and was willing to take you back after all you had done?

“does this mea-,” you broke away from the kiss to ask, but he cut you off quickly before going back to attack your mouth.

“i like you too,” your heart felt like it was about to explode, something you had never felt before.  

your arms snaked around his neck as his hands positioned themselves on the small of your back, both trying to bring the other closer. your fingers went to his soft, fluffy hair to tug on it and jaemin groaned into your mouth. 

for a moment, both of you forgot you were still in school’s grounds and anyone walking to their locker or next class could find you, but at that moment, nothing mattered.

his body felt like it was on fire, the burn almost addictive as he unconsciously pressed his hips into yours, letting you feel his growing boner. he was so into the kiss he didn’t notice at first how his body was reacting to your closeness, your scent filling his senses and plump lips moving against his. but when you responded with a roll of your hips, he gasped in surprise.

“come on, baby,” his heart pumped harder as you intertwined your fingers with his and dragged him to the teacher’s bathroom. after making sure no one was nearby, you got in and locked yourselves inside. you didn’t waste any time smashing your lips together, the kiss eventually turning rougher and full of lust.

when jaemin’s back touched the wall, he broke away from the kiss to regain his breath. 

he wasn’t a resentful person, but he was determined to give you a taste of your own medicine. you were going to regret what you had done.

oh, sweet revenge.

the tables turned as he pushed you against the wall, pressing his body flush into yours. a surprised moan left your lips, hands going to his chest in a failed attempt of pushing him away and re-establishing your dominance.

“no, it’s my turn,” the new found confidence that was taking over his body made jaemin feel great. you were wordless because of the sudden change of attitude so he took the opportunity to pin both of your wrists above your head with only one of his hands and with the other, he grabbed your thigh and lifted it, holding it to his hip. with a roll of his hips, his hard cock grinded against your clothed core in such a way your legs almost buckled.

“look at you now, where did the mean girl attitude go?” 

you could only moan, already feeling your damp panties stick to your folds uncomfortably, and he smirked at your lack of response. you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you and now knew how desperate jaemin must have felt that day at the library with all your teasing.

“what do you want? tell me baby,” when you tried to free yourself from his grip, he tsked, only tightening it more. “i’m not letting you go, so stop being a brat. i asked you a question, tell me what you want.”

jaemin was enjoying every single second of having you so under his control. you had pegged him as someone who liked being dominated, but apparently you were wrong. by the looks of it, he was having the time of his life, not even caring about how long it's been since everything started, engraving in his brain every sound you made and the way your face contorted in pleasure when he pressed himself against you. he didn’t care about his reputation anymore either, after ruining you just the way you had done with him he would have had enough to make it worth it.

“i want to see you,” your hands twitched in his grip, fingers wanting nothing more than to tug on his shirt and undress him. last time you didn’t get to see him due to being in a public space, but now, locked inside the teacher’s bathroom, you could finally see him in his full glory. jaemin would normally feel shy about showing his body to someone else, especially a girl, but he couldn’t let his whole confident facade fall down, so he set you free, “unbutton it then, babygirl.”

you worked on unbuttoning his shirt as fast as you could and pussy clenched around nothing when you saw his toned abdomen and chest. he was stunning. your hands trailed down his body, caressing the soft skin, drinking in all the little details. in return, jaemin lifted yours above your chest to have easy access to your breasts. the hand that was previously holding you still now came to knead your soft boobs, groaning at the way your hips bucked against his cock.

“fuck me,” you managed to let out in a whimper.

“uhm, is that what you want?” you shook your head ‘yes’ as soon as the question came out of his mouth, eager to feel him inside once again. “then beg for it.” 

you weren’t used to being the one to beg and as much as you hated following orders, you were willing to swallow your dignity if it meant he was going to touch you just how you needed. 

“please, jaemin,” he shook his head, not satisfied by your response, “i’m so wet and it’s all just for you, i need you to fuck me, please” you felt your face heat up in embarrassment but you opted to ignore it. he hummed, letting go of your leg for a moment to slide your panties off your body and pull down his pants before gripping your thigh once again.

“your wish is my command,” you giggled at his cute antics, but the laughter soon got stuck in your throat when he slid his cock inside you. your eyes closed, head falling to the crook of his neck and hands gripping his biceps to hold yourself up, as jaemin groaned. you felt as tight as he could remember, but he still couldn’t get used to it. his legs trembled slightly as your walls squeezed around him, “f-fuck, still so tight.”

“move, please,” the stretch felt nice, but you needed more. and so he did as he was told, starting to slowly buck his hips into you before eventually building up a steady pace.

you felt so full with him snuggled deep inside of you, reaching places you didn’t know he could with the new position. his hips angled so he could hit your g-spot with every thrust, loud moans leaving your lips. 

“if you keep being loud we’ll get caught baby,” his teeth nibbled on the skin of your neck, mouth sucking softly as to not leave marks, “or maybe that’s what you want? for someone to catch us fucking in school property?” your moans got louder so jaemin put his hand over your lips to shush you.

“uhm, that’d make so much more sense as to why you suddenly decided to risk my reputation and fuck me in the library where anybody could have seen us just with a turn of their heads.” his words came out so bluntly your eyes widened, body convulsing against his and high getting closer.

“f-faster, please, fuck me faster,” he obliged, lifting your skirt so it hung just above your waist to uncover your lower half. his hips snapped rougher than before as his thumb played with your sensitive clit, pressing harshly and circling furiously on it.

“oh my god, jaemin!” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth falling open as muffled moans fell from your lips. jaemin’s pace got sloppy as your walls clamped down on him. he was finding it hard to move, both from the strong grip of your pussy and his nearing orgasm.

“that’s it, baby, come for me,” and with a particular flick of his fingers you were cumming hard, juices running down the inside of your thighs. jaemin fucked you through your orgasm and followed soon after, thick cum filling you up nicely. heavy pants could be heard all over the room, fogging the bathroom’s mirror. 

after your breathing had evened, he pulled out and dropped your leg to let you stand up comfortably. neither of you made an effort to move away from the other, eyes staying locked in the other’s, sharing a last kiss before fixing your clothes as best as you could in the shortest period of time you could manage. you were most likely already running late for class so you didn’t have time to lose.

noticing the only piece of clothing you were missing were your panties, you started searching everywhere for it. you couldn’t get caught or else you would be in big trouble. two teenagers spending a considerable amount of time locked together in the teacher’s bathroom without the supervision of any adult wouldn’t look good to anyone.

at some point you began panicking, you couldn’t just leave your underwear in there, somebody was going to find it and you both would be fucked. for real this time.

“jaemin, have you seen my pant-.”

“your what?” you hadn’t noticed the big ass smirk jaemin was carrying as he looked at you, enjoying your misery. “my panties,” but that wasn’t the only thing you noticed, you could see the pink cloth hanging from his finger. 

“give them back,” you pouted cutely, making jaemin smile teasingly. “nope, now they’re mine,” he shoved the piece of clothing inside his pocket and left you to deal with his cum dripping down your legs by yourself.

“but it’s leaking, i can’t go out like this.”

you probably sounded like a whiny child throwing a tantrum, but you really needed your underwear back or else you wouldn’t be able to keep it all in. 

“you can and you will, sweetie,” jaemin smirked, taking your hand in his before opening the bathroom door to leave. you didn’t want to leave like that, so you leaned your whole weight back so he wouldn’t be able to pull you with him, but he managed. with a hard tug on your hand, he forced you out of the room and into his back.

just as you were mumbling about how strong he was, a voice made you both freeze in your spots.

“did you guys just leave the teacher’s bathroom? what the heck?” donghyuck gasped, mouth agape in shock. he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing; na jaemin and y/l y/n, school’s good boy and bad girl, walking out of the teacher’s bathroom hand in hand. jaemin’s eyes opened wide in panic. someone –or more like the worst person who could have found you– caught you in a very compromising situation. the erratic beating of his heart made his body feel numb, cheeks flushing a deep tone of red.

he noticed jaemin’s messy hair, blushing cheeks and not properly buttoned shirt as well as your untucked one and skirt way too high up your legs that revealed a fair portion of your thighs.

and then it clicked.

donghyuck’s own eyes shot open as he connected the dots.

“oh my fucking god, you fucked in there.”

–lia:)

[sturchling]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a story of marinette moving to Gotham.

And going to gotham academy and having her own boutique. Damienette pairing. Cat noir salt. You dont have to if u dont want too.

Sorry for the long wait, work has been keeping me super busy lately. I hope you like this and it was worth the wait! I had a hard time trying to work in the Chat Noir salt, so its more like Adrien salt. Let me know what you think!

-----------------------------------

Marinette was tired of Lila and her lies. She was tired of Adrien’s refusal to help defend her from the liar. And she was tired of everyone believing the liar over Marinette. Most of the school now believed that Marinette was a horrible bully that had been attacking Lila since she arrived. Marinette had been removed as class rep and was constantly given detention by Mr. Damocles. Marinette’s parents have been very supportive, and now realized that Lila was just a malicious liar. But even with their support, it had become to much for Marinette and she knew it was time to leave Paris.

------------------

Her parents were hesitant when she brought up the idea. Marinette had found a study abroad program where she could attend Gotham academy, hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. She discussed it with her parents, really hoping to convince them. They were obviously concerned for a number of reasons. The main one being the crime rate in Gotham. They knew that Marinette needed to get away from Paris, that things had gotten bad in the city for her. But they didn’t want to send her to a dangerous city where she could be hurt or killed. But after speaking with Marinette for several hours, they started to realize how excited Marinette was for the opportunity. While they were still worried, they knew this was the right place for Marinette. And they were comforted that if she was accepted, she would be hosted by and staying with Bruce Wayne. His manor is one of the safest places in the city. So, they agreed with Marinette that she could apply the program.

----------------

So Marinette applied to the study abroad program. She didn’t tell anyone at the school, not like anyone in the class was speaking to her anyway. She waited anxiously for news from the program, hoping to hear that she had been accepted.  The longer she didn’t hear anything, the more anxious she became. She was sure that she had been rejected and they just hadn’t told her. Marinette had just got back from a particularly bad day at school, when she noticed she had a new email. An email from the study abroad program. She raced to open the email, and started cheering when she read the line We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Gotham Academy Study Abroad Program. Marinette raced downstairs and told her parents the news. The email said that she would be expected in Gotham by the end of the month. It went on to explain details of the program. That night the Dupain-Cheng family celebrated, and began preparing for Marinette’s departure. 

----------------

The last month of Marinette’s time in Paris seemed to drag on and on. Everyday she had to listen to Lila’s lie all day long and the whole class fawn over here. She had to endure Lila accusing her of bullying almost daily and almost daily detentions. But finally, it was her final day at the Dupont. She was almost giddy as she walked to Mr. Damocles’ office with her parents. When she entered the office and Mr. Damocles saw her, he just sighed. “What did you do now Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Then he saw her parents in the office and straightened up. “I didn’t do anything Mr. Damocles. I never did anything Lila accused me of, but I know you will never believe me on that. We are just here to get my academic records and inform you that I will no longer be attending this school after today.” Mr. Damocles was flustered by the sudden declaration. “What do you mean you won’t be attending anymore? Where are you going?” Mr. Dupain stepped forward, barely containing his contempt for this man who had been helping to make his daughter miserable. “Marinette will be studying abroad in America for the next year at least. Now, give us the academic records.” Mr. Damocles stuttered for a while, wondering how such a bully got accepted to such an amazing program. But soon, the Dupain-Chengs got the records from him and were on their way.

------------------

 Marinette went down to the locker room with her parents and started emptying her locker. Class hadn’t started yet so, everyone was still in the locker room. They were confused when Marinette started emptying her locker. Adrien, who was about the only  person that still talked to Marinette from time to time, approached the young designer. “Marinette? What are you doing?” Marinette didn’t look at any of them, continuing to empty her locker as she responded. “I am emptying my locker. Starting Monday, I will no longer be here for school. I am transferring to Gotham Academy.” The class stood in shock, they never expected Marinette to leave. Sure they were happy that Lila would be able to come to school in peace, but it would be weird without Marinette here. They just stood in shocked silence, as Marinette finished with her locker and walked out with her parents. 

------------------

Adrien was shocked by Marinette’s decision. Why would she leave? He knew things had been tough for her lately, but he had kept telling her that it would get better soon. Soon the class would realize that Lila was a liar. That she just had to wait a little longer. But Marinette had clearly given up and was running away. That wasn’t like Marinette at all. When he had the chance, Adrien was going to go pay her a visit in Gotham and convince her to return. 

------------------

Marinette was already loving Gotham. She had been met at the airport by Alfred who brought her to the manor. Mr. Wayne was very nice and introduced her to his children as well. Marinette was the same age as Damian and would be in the same class as him as well. Damian had expected to be irritated by this girl when he was first informed of their guest. But to his surprise, he didn’t find her presence as repulsive as everyone else. 

-------------------

Weeks went by and Marinette was having a wonderful time. She had made some wonderful friends in her class, though she was nervous to try and make friends after Mrs. Bustier’s class. But she was welcomed warmly by her new class. Her and Damian had also grown close over the weeks. They had started dating recently, and would often spend their time together quietly working on their different craft projects; Marinette working on her designs, and Damian working on his most recent painting. The Waynes were shocked at the change Marinette had caused in the youngest Wayne. Damian was still a very reserved person, but he was considerably warmer to Marinette and had started to act warmer to his family as well. 

---------------------

While Marinette wasn’t aware of it, her departure brought about Lila’s downfall. Lila hadn’t been at school recently, on a ‘diplomatic trip to Achu’, and because of that, she didn’t know Marinette left Paris. So when she came back, she was planning on making her next attack against Marinette’s reputation. She used makeup to make fake bruises and called up her tears as she entered the classroom. The class was horrified to see their friend crying and injured. They raced forward and asked Lila what happened. “It was horrible. As soon as I returned to the city last night, Marinette was waiting for me outside my home. She was so mad that she got detention for a week when I told Mr. Damocles that she had stolen my book. She beat me up and said if I ever said anything I would regret it! I am so scared!” Lila was proud of this performance. It was probably one of her best performances yet. But when she looked up at the class, she was surprised to see that the class was staring at her doubtfully. 

-------------------

Alya, feeling dread in her stomach, asked “Are you sure it was Marinette last night? No chance it was someone else?” Lila, irritated that they were questioning her, didn’t notice the tension in the room. “Of course it was Marinette. I saw her face and there is no way it was anyone else last night.” Nino, who was now realizing that this could mean that Marinette was right and that Lila was a liar, asked “What do you mean Marinette attacked you last night? Marinette moved to Gotham almost two weeks ago. She couldn’t have attacked you last night.”  Now Lila was horrified. This was a major mistake. Lila was trying to back pedal, and figure a way out of this mess, but the class had realized at this point that Lila was lying and that she had probably been lying before when Marinette was still here. The class started to yell at Lila as they realized that she had been lying to them all this time. Lila raced from the room, not wanting to face the class. The class quickly tried to reach out to Marinette, to apologize and ask her to come home, but the number they had for her had been disconnected. Adrien was disappointed that Marinette hadn’t told anyone her new number, not even him. He was going to go to Gotham soon and try to convince her to come back. He was sure their Everyday Ladybug would be willing to come back.

-----------------

One day, weeks after Lila’s exposure, Damian and Marinette were sitting in the garden just relaxing. After watching Marinette work on a new design, Damian said, “Marinette, you should really try to open a boutique. Your work is terrific and you would be very successful.” Marinette seemed shocked for a moment. “You really think I should? I wouldn’t even know where to start. And how would I afford a building? I don’t think I could do it.” Marinette continued to anxiously ramble, until Damian came to stand in front of Marinette. “Marinette, Angel, breathe. I am sure you would do wonderfully. And as for the building, my father has multiple buildings in the city that he isn’t using. I am sure he would allow you to set up in one of them.” After more convincing, Marinette agreed to at least ask Bruce about it. When they approached Bruce, he was very willing to help Marinette set up her first boutique. He had seen the girl’s designs and knew that she would be a major success. Marinette felt bad about just taking one of his buildings and accepting his help with getting everything she needed for the boutique, but she accepted when Bruce told her to consider it a loan if that made her more comfortable. Then, they immediately started setting up her boutique.

---------------------

After about a month, everything was set up and Marinette’s boutique had opened under the name MDC. She was an instant success and quickly became very busy with several orders from big name clients. As time went on, Marinette began to feel like Gotham was her home. One day, after she had closed the boutique and was leaving with Damian to go on a date, they were approached by a familiar face. “Adrien?” Adrien smiled and approached her. “Hi Marinette.” Damian sensing the tension, stepped closer to Marinette. “Who is this Marinette?” Adrien looked at the boy standing next to Marinette and didn’t recognize him at all. “Damian, this is Adrien, someone I knew in Paris. Adrien, this is my boyfriend Damian.” That took Adrien by surprise, but he moved past it. He was sure that Marinette would leave this Damian and come back to Paris where she belonged.

----------------

“So what are you doing here Adrien?” Adrien smiled again, “I am here to bring you home Marinette! Lila has been found out and she is gone. You don’t have to keep hiding here in Gotham. You can come home and back to the class. Everything can go back to normal.” Marinette just stared at him, as Damian started to get angry. Adrien didn’t pick up on the tension. “So come on. Lets go get your things. We can fly back to Paris in the morning.” Adrien tried to grab her arm, but Marinette moved back, avoiding him. “I’m sorry Adrien, but I’m not going back. I am really happy here. I still have months with the study abroad program and may stay here permanently if I can. I have friends who wouldn’t leave me for a liar. Damian is here. And my boutique is doing really well. I am not ready to go back to Paris.” Adrien just rolled his eyes. “Come on Marinette, you have friends in Paris, and you can set up a new boutique in Paris. Its no big deal. So come on, lets go.” Adrien once again tried to grab at Marinette’s arm, this time Damian got in his way and shoved him back. “Marinette said she didn’t want to go with you so that is that. You should go now, you have embarrassed yourself enough.” Adrien glared at Damian, angry that he was getting in his way. “I am not leaving. Not until Marinette tells me to, so stay out of this.” Marinette stepped out from behind Damian, looking more confident then Adrien ever remembered seeing her. “Adrien you should leave. I am happy here and I am not going back to Paris. My ‘friends’ in Paris turned their backs on me because of the liar’s pretty words. My friends here would never do that to me. Now please leave.” Adrien was shocked, and didn’t move. Damian rolled his eyes and guided Marinette around Adrien and back to the manor.

------------------

Adrien went back to Paris, alone, the day after his conversation with Marinette. He was surprised that Marinette wouldn’t come back with him. Mrs. Bustier’s class was sad when Adrien came back without Marinette. They had hoped she would come back, but unlike Adrien, they knew the chances were slim. While they were sad that Marinette was gone and that they had chased off such a good friend, they were happy that she had found a place that she could live happily. They tried to move on, hoping that one day they may get the chance to apologize to Marinette in person. 

-------------------

Marinette stayed in Gotham after her conversation with Adrien. She finished her year with the study abroad program and then decided to live in Gotham permanently, with her parents blessing. She continued to stay at the manor, living happily with the Waynes. She continued using the horse miraculous to go back and forth to Paris for the akumas and soon revealed her identity to the Waynes once she realized they were the Batfam. Her boutique continued to be a major success. Her life had improved in every way it could. She was surrounded by true friends, she had a boyfriend who truly cared for her, her fashion business had started with great success, and she didn’t have to deal with the liar anymore. She was the happiest she had been in a long time, and she intended to be this happy for the rest of her life in Gotham.

[skei-seems]

Professor Reid

(PART 1)

Summary: Reader kicks off first semester of university with a team project that requires a trip to another city. Her professor, Spencer Reid, is to accompany the team, but the journey takes an interesting turn when he offers to show her a pub in the city one night.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Category: Smut [NSFW]

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap, Swearing

A/N: Please send me some feedback on this or requests, I would love to hear your thoughts. Also, do you guys prefer first person x reader or second person pov? Part 2 linked below ;)

-------

      You could always see something coming from a mile away, it was a peculiar skill of yours to be able to plan out every possible outcome of any situation (especially the worst ones) in order to satisfy your anxiety. University was a new ground, it was unfamiliar and untrodden, and that’s what made it dangerous - the unforeseeable future.

      As soon as you started criminal psychology class, you knew it would be your favourite. Perhaps it was because of the interesting analogy strategies, or the way the minds of the psychos worked, but mainly it was because of the gorgeous golden-locked professor. His intelligent hands gestured each time he spoke and the way they often ran through his hair to fix it, his big brown eyes scanning the room which sometimes met your gaze, and the nerdy button up shirts he wore was enough to set your lust for him on fire. The development of crushes on people that would never be interested in you was a frequent occurrence, and the probability of something happening between you was far from reality - you knew that - and that was where the satisfaction lay in it. Knowing nothing can or will happen, the infatuation was innocent and improbable. 

      “Okay class, I have an announcement to make,” the voice that sent goosebumps over your skin each time it sounded, boomed through the large classroom. You focused from a distance on his sharp eyes, before he looked down at a piece of paper in his hands. “There will be a trip to another university to join a team which will conduct a research project together,”  some ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ sounded there, ”but unfortunately I cannot take all of you.” Disappointment flooded through the room now, but a little jolt of excitement went through your body. A trip, to another town, with the hot professor. He continued, “I have selected five students based on how well they did in the last examination, the names of whom I read now please meet with me after class.”

      Your heart sped up in your chest, you were even afraid the thumping could be heard by your surrounding classmates as he read off the names, and stopped when yours was the last. Part of you wished you could be as calm as the others when class ended and they slowly made their way to his desk, but the other part of you wanted to lather up every bit of excitement that coursed through your body as you approached the tall smart-looking man.

      As he briefed the group on what you need to prepare and the plans for the trip, you calmed down and made some notes, but a strand of hair had fallen into his face which distracted you. When he finished the briefing and made sure everyone was okay with spending their first week of holiday doing a school trip, everyone made to leave. You pocketed your phone, looked around when you heard him say “Bye guys, see you on the weekend!” and made eye contact, he smiled awkwardly and averted his gaze to the others walking out the door. Your heart immediately started racing in your chest and only calmed once you got home, and you could not get those beautiful brown eyes out of your head.

---

      It was the day of the trip. You would be driving together in a bus and stay at a hotel; you had free time in the mornings and evenings, project participation during the day and one free days to tour the city with your guide, professor Reid. Apparently if you did well, you would be allowed a night of celebration at the end in a very fancy club, which did not really seem like a reward to you, clubs were loud and full of sweaty drunk strangers.

      The drive was long and seemingly endless with not much to do, and you were slightly amused to see that both you and the professor had brought a book to entertain yourselves with for the trip. When you arrived, the whole group set out to their rooms (each with a roommate) except for the professor, who made sure you knew where it was and that each had his number to call in case of emergency. He gave everyone the rest of the afternoon off to do your own activities, but you weren't allowed to go off alone, and had to be back at the hotel by 10.

      You spent most of your free time reading or putting together work for the project, and by the third day the others had quickly formed a bond and gone off without you to have fun. It was about six thirty when you heard a knock on the door. Wondering who it was, you opened it to the gorgeous blonde professor.

“Hi Y/N, the others have all gone with the other university’s team to a restaurant and I’ve allowed them a later curfew, don’t you want to join them?” He asked, with a slight concern (probably because you were always alone). His brows were knit into a neat frown and you could imagine them being like that for a whole other reason, almost buckling your knees.

      “Um,” you stumbled, thrown off by his sudden appearance and question, and thought for a moment. “To be honest I don’t really feel like being in that big group after spending the whole day with them.”

At this, he looked down and smiled, almost in a knowing way. “Well, if you want to get out, I’m going to meet some of my old university friends at a place that’s really nice,” then he sheepishly added, “and probably better than the restaurant your classmates chose.”

You bit your lip, he was asking you to come with him, without any other student present. “Your old university friends?” 

“Yeah, this was where I studied before I moved and joined the FBI to become a profiler.” 

Before you could answer, he added, “I just, couldn’t help but notice you haven’t gone out at all with the others. It wouldn’t sit right with me if you spend another night all by yourself.” 

His words sent a rush of goosebumps over your skin. It made you look away with embarrassment that your introverted habits had not gone unnoticed. “Okay,” you said with forced sureness, and shyly looked at him again, “could I maybe just change real quick?”

      He studied you a little and nodded. “Meet me at the foyer in fifteen minutes. You won’t regret it.” He seemed pleased with himself at convincing you to come out of your shell, and it sent electric sparks through your body that he made an effort for you, and only you.

      Fifteen minutes later you walked up to the foyer. It turns out he had made the decision to change as well, going for a white buttoned up shirt, black fitting trousers and a pair of high top converse. You could not take your eyes off the man, and your stomach somersaulted at his rolled up sleeves that exposed his veiny forearms and watched wrist. As you came closer, he turned around and let his smouldering brown eyes travel down your body.

       You flushed with warmth and redness as he took in your change of appearance, you wore black skinny jeans, a top that exposed your chest a little more than you would allow at school, and your go-to white sneakers. 

“I was almost afraid you decided to stand me up,” he joked and shuffled his feet as the scent of your elegant rosey perfume engulfed him.

      “Almost,” You chuckled, this informal stance was relaxing.  You made your way down a couple of blocks while the professor talked a bit about the city, and finally entered a retro-looking pub. As you observed the place, you could feel his eyes on you. You realised for the first that he was your grounding now, since there was no one else in the room you knew, an intimate feeling arose at this thought and you moved a little closer to him.

“This is where I spent many a night drinking with my friends,” he said - with pride - while leading you to an empty table. You could hardly picture this smart and always-composed man being drunk, but it was a humoured picture nonetheless. He had to lean in for you to hear him over the music and talking of the people inside, and you could feel his hot minty breath sending tingles across your skin. 

“I like it,” you replied. The bar was old wood, the walls were lined with all kinds of posters and signs that made up the aesthetic, accompanied by a small stage area with a landing dance floor. 

“It’s my favourite, ahh-” he looked up at someone behind you and got up, “here they are.” Your heart skipped a beat, you were always nervous when meeting new people.

“SPENCE, my man!” exclaimed a tall curly haired fellow as they ‘bro-hugged’. A second, more buff and bearded man followed with “Long time no see!” He looked a little older but the two seemed to make sense as a friendship.

      After they exchanged greetings, they realized your presence. Assuming they were out of earshot from a couple of feet away, the curly haired guy complimented professor Reid on his ‘date’ and made a gesture to suggest nice ‘boobs.’  You had to hide your smile when the professor went crimson and explained that you were his student, but you could feel your legs aching a little at the sight of him being flustered. He glanced at you nervously and ran a hand through his loose curls.

      Finally, the men joined the table and introduced themselves, sharing stories of when they were your age. The professor seemed so different like this, so warm and relaxed, as compared to his usual formal state. You exchanged glances and a couple of smiles through the drinks and conversations, and you couldn’t push away the thought that maybe you were forming a connection. You focused on the way he sometimes licked his lips or put his fingers to his mouth, and imagined sucking on them, squeezing your thighs at the thought. Maybe you would be different after the trip, but you were snapped back to reality when the two of his friends decided to call it a night.

As the two were saying their goodbyes and making their way to the door. You checked your phone and shocked, exclaimed “It’s only ten o’clock!” 

This earned a beautiful laugh from your professor. “I suppose that’s late when you’re my age. But we don’t have to leave. Wanna play a game of pool?”

Relief flooded unto you, you did not want this to be over, no one else had seen the professor like this and - despite your nervousness - you were having fun. The pub had grown fuller than when you first came in. Noticing a couple of lustful glances to your body, and to avoid being crumpled or lost between passing bodies, Spencer lightly put a hand on your lower back as he guided you in front of him over to the pool tables. The touch was barely, and so subtle, but it created a sense of dominince over you and made the area where his fingers connected with the fabric of your shirt tingle and spread to your lower belly. 

He was pretty good at the game, hitting with careful preciseness and studying the table for a while before taking each of his turns. Focusing like him was a rather difficult task when you kept watching his veiny hands wrap around the pool stick and grip it tightly before he bent over to shoot. It was a little funny that he took it with such seriousness, but this forced you to do the same, and soon there was an atmosphere of strong competitiveness evident between you two. It came down the last couple of balls, when you decided to throw in a bet. 

“If I win what do I get?” You confidently challenged, the alcohol had given your voice a certain assertiveness it lacked when you were sober, but this could also be a bad thing - the alcohol talking for you.

“If you win I buy the next round of drinks, if I win you pay for the round.” He said without thinking too hard about it, then returned his focus back to the game.

A couple moments later professor Reid won, and you reluctantly pulled out your wallet from your bag and made your way to the bar. The look on his face was triumph, but it had been a little exciting for the duration of the game that he considered you his equal, as competition. While you waited for the two glasses of Jack and Coke, a hand groped you from behind. You jumped out of the stranger’s grasp and tried to put as much distance between the two of you, but the line was cramped and it didn’t help much. 

A sloppy looking man smirked at you, “How bout I get you a drink, darling.”

“How bout you leave her alone.” A firm voice said behind you, and you felt a warm hand sneak around your waist.

The guy looked annoyed but retreated from the bar. You turned around, a little thrown off from the interaction. “Thank you for saving me, professor.” You said, looking into his chocolate eyes staring off at the guy, now darkened with a little - anger? protectiveness? or was it dominance? Either way, it excited you. 

“But I can handle myself”

He cocked his head and eyed you smugly. “Just stick closer to me from now.” He smiled with reassurance, not taking his hand off your waist, and the creep left your mind. All you wanted now was him.

You took your drinks and went back to the pool tables, all of them were occupied. Two friendly biker-looking guys offered to play in teams with you, though. You took on the challenge and played, but you were focusing on a different game. The alcohol had flushed out any thoughts or worry about the age difference or the fact that he was your professor, you were’t sure how, but you were going to get him one way or another. The game progressed slowly, and you got the opportunity to bend down in front of the professor. Behind you, you heard the biker next to him say “dude, if you don’t hit that, I will,” and felt a subtle, but not too soft landing on your ass. A yelp escaped your mouth, more out of surprise than anything, but you shot the ball in and turned around. Spencer looked embarrassed, and pulled you away a little and apologised. 

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, sir,” you insisted, then adding, “I kinda liked it.”

His mouth formed into an ‘O’ shaped, and with his eyebrows raised he let out a chuckle, but you could see something change in his eyes as he glanced at your lips.

You were pulled out of your daze when you heard it - the song. The song you had to dance to no matter what, so you grabbed your drink and downed the last of it. “Come on, professor,” you pulled him by his hand.

“What’s happening?” he asked, looking a little amused.

“We have to dance to this song, it’s illegal not to.”

      He laughed and followed you. The world was spinning a little and the alcohol had made your body warm, you would have to get out for fresh air sooner than later or you’d start sweating. Not knowing what was going through your or the professors mind, whatever it was, you hoped it was the same thing.

Once on the dance floor, the two of you easily fit in the crowd’s rhythm. He knew the lyrics just as well as you, and you jumped and moved around each other mouthing the words. A layer of sweat had started to make his shirt cling to him, and his hair was a little dampened, god he looked good. As the chorus ended, he stopped momentarily to unbutton his shirt a little for some air. His exposed chest was a huge turn on and you moved a little closer to him, but someone pushed through the crowd and squashed you right into each other. 

      This was the closest you had ever been, your bodies were completely pressed against each other and his cologne was overwhelming your senses. With your hand on his chest you looked up at him, resuming to the rhythm of the song, but the two of you remained close. He made no move to push you away, he just seemed deeply in though. With a last muster of confidence, you turned around and pushed your lower half onto his and felt him harden against you. Glad for the blaring music at that moment, you moaned loudly. For a moment he did nothing, then his hands shyly placed themselves on your hips.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe you should move away and pretend it hadn’t happened, but he pulled you closer by the waist and kept you rooted to the spot. So there was a dominant part in him, this pushed away the doubts you had momentarily and you continued to rub against his hard groin. The song changed to a slower, more sexy one. He hung his head so it was next to yours, and you could feel his sticky curls tangle with your hair. His hands were on your waist, guiding you and every now and then moving higher to just below your breasts. You slid down against him slowly, then slowly pushed your butt up back against his hardness. Just the thought of what the two of you looked like at that moment could send you over the edge.

      Unable to resist seeing what he looked like, you turned around and flung your arms around his neck, his hair was wet and messy, some parts sticking to his forehead, and his chest was rising and falling at a fast pace. What made you stop was how he was staring you right in the eye through his locks, like there was no one else in the room, you pondered whether or not to kiss him but it was hot, it was so hot in the room.

You pulled free from what seemed like your wildest fantasy come true and made way to the exist and out into the open air. Professor Reid had followed you outside into the dark lamp-lit street. He mirrored your out-of-breath and at-a-loss-for-words state. “Let’s get back to the hotel, shall we?” he offered after a while, not looking at you and already walking in the direction of the hotel.

      You weren't sure if he meant that in the sense of sleeping together or just going back to your separate rooms, but the reality of it had sobered you up a little and you were feeling a little nervous now. He seemed.. angry? or what he frustrated? Things seemed so obvious back on the dance floor but now they seemed cloudy and unclear.

When you finally made your way back to the hotel the nervousness had almost eaten you up, and you were shaking. You and Spencer hadn’t said a word the entire way back, and the silence hadn’t helped your anxiety. He stopped suddenly and you walked into him, not realising you had already arrived in from of your hotel room. 

“Do you have your key card?” he finally spoke up, his voice was coarse and full of restraint.

      You nodded, turned and swiped the card to open the door. Stepping half inside you peeked around, your roommate wasn’t home yet. When you turned back to face Spencer, he was staring at you with such intensity it seemed to sear holes in you. Boldly, you took a step toward him. He immediately grabbed you by the waist and kissed you forcefully. Inside, he slammed you against the door to close it and swiped his tongue over your lips, then inside your mouth to explore. His hands were all over your body and yours tangled in his long, messy curls. When you felt his soft lips connect with the sensitive area of your neck, you moaned.

“Professor,” you squeaked. Your voice was full of need and earned a rough groan from him.

      He picked you up and set you on the counter in the small kitchen. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said, looking into your eyes, grabbing the back of your neck and reattaching your lips. His words were sending a rush to your core; you needed more friction. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, his hardness now rubbing right against your beating core. He groaned and slowly grinded against you, making you want more. His tall lean figure against yours was too much to handle, it was overpowering and you couldn’t stop the soft whimpers escaping your mouth.

As his large hand massaged your breast and he continued to rock his hips against yours gradually at a faster pace, your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. 

He was in the middle of pulling off your shirt when a loud knock on the door made you freeze. He pulled away, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Who is it?” You called, your voice (and legs) shaking.

It turned out to be your roommate. The two of you swiftly fixed yourselves up and you opened the door. With the explained that you and the professor were just working on something more for tomorrow’s project session, he bid you goodnight and left hurriedly.

----

      The next day you awoke not sure of how to go about things, or if you should just pretend that nothing had happened at all. But all that was not possible at all, you realised, when you saw him that morning. All the events of the previous night rushed at once into your mind and you bit your lip, it wasn’t over. He cleared his throat and shoved a hand into his pocket while addressing the group, his eye contact with you being only brief, yet strong.

During lunch break you wanted to speak with him, and found him in the cafeteria’s far end. Before coming around the corner, you stopped. He was on the phone.

“I know I know, Sweetness, I love you.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, he had a girlfriend. How could you be a wedge between his relationship, you had messed up real bad, but then again, he was the one who kissed you...

     You avoided him for the rest of the day, and the next even though he asked to see you twice. Finally you received a text “Can we talk, please?” Yet you still ignored him, and even forced yourself to spend your free time with the group. It wasn’t too difficult avoiding him, but on the last day it was announced that since the group did so well, they would be celebrating at the great club in town - accompanied by the teachers of course. 

      You groaned. Slowly, anger had started to rise up to you. He was the one who had known he had a girlfriend, not you. He could have stopped it at any moment, but he didn’t. It was infuriating. Revenge may be the best plot. So you put on the sexiest clothes you could find, and met up with the group.

-------------

To be continued...  PART TWO AVAILABLE HERE: https://skei-seems.tumblr.com/post/642815872752353280/professor-reid-part-2

[satoruvt]

for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible. 

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair. 

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go. 

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it. 

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick. 

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door. 

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything. 

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first. 

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long. 

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will. 

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly. 

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

[potter-imagines]

Library Confessions (George Weasley)

Summary:  george fluff?? maybe like some sort of best friends to lovers kinda deal?

Notes: I've been wanting to write George for a while so I was excited to make this !! hope you enjoy x

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word Count: 5.3k

It was a flurry and cold winter day, the kind of day when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. Seeing as it was your seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts, most would assume you’d have adapted to the cold by now, but that wasn’t the case. Although as much as you despised the freezing temperature, the pulsating tick of your headache preferred the cold over the thunderous noise back inside.

The Gryffindor common room was too rambunctious- wild, uncontrolled for your desires tonight. It was Friday and tomorrow was the highly anticipated day trip to Hogsmeade. Students were understandable thrilled and you would have loved to join in, but the throbbing pain and stress of school on your shoulders masked your fun. The migraines were brought on by school, but also the idea that you would not get to join your friends tomorrow.

Your feet carried you further from the common room, the rowdy noise fading with every step. If the weight of homework wasn’t so heavy on your shoulders, the party would’ve been in your plans. You tried to stay as long as you could but after about twenty minutes, and three Weasley fireworks being set off, you decided a breath of fresh air sounded delightful.

Your best friends, Fred and George Weasley, were the cause of this chaos. They were fully sober yet drunk off the energy of the room. When you had left, Fred and Lee were orchestrating a tournament of pumpkin juice pong, and George was sitting on the scarlet couch talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione. His eyes darted to you every few seconds. Sometimes he would hold the gaze, or send you a wink, but most of the times he snapped his head back to the golden trio, pretending his attention was elsewhere.

It made your heart thump against the bones of your chest. You were sure if he had been sitting beside you he’d surely hear it, loud and clear. A deep pink blush spread across your cheeks at the thought of George. You had been close friends with the twins since you stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express and sat in the same cabinet as them. Through the years, the bond grew stronger yet developed differently with each twin. Fred was like an annoying, overbearing, proactive big brother and George, well, the affection you felt for George was not in a brotherly way. 

Since your third year, you started noticing subtle things about him. Like how he arched his eyebrows when he spoke, or when he’d bite his lip when taking notes. He also had a tendency to eat his dessert first, if you got him laughing enough he’d accidentally let out a tiny snort and he always stood to your left when you walked to class together. When winter came, George was always shedding his clothes in order to keep you warm. Fred would complain that you knew it was snowing, therefore it’s your fault for being cold, but never George. Not to say that Fred is cruel, he can be a gentleman when he chooses but your relationship was more sibling bickering and competition. But George had always been a bit, sweeter than Fred.

Most wrote the twins off as one person but the differences between the twins was written out in neon signs, in your eyes. Maybe it was because you were closer to the twins than most, besides Lee. They were both your best friends, but they treated you in polar opposite ways. If Fred ever tried to cuddle you in his bed, you were sure you’d ‘Stupefy’ him into oblivion. When George did it, you could hardly croak a breath with all the rockets exploding in your heart.

The fragrance of frosted pine and butterscotch wafted through the nipping air as you approached the north entrance of the castle. Winter was finally here. The beauty of Hogwarts shined most bright during this time of the year. Snow crunched under the weight of your foot while you trudged through the courtyard taking advantage of the short cut. With the overwhelming school work piling by the second, slipping into the library didn’t seem like such a bad idea. You had two papers, a research project for Magical Creatures, and an exam in Potions. Not to mention you were expected to memorize and perfect a list of disarming and protection spells before Defense Against the Dark Arts by Tuesday.

Lost in your own stress, you hardly noticed your feet carrying you into the large doors of the library. The lighting was low and the attendance was even dimmer. A few Hufflepuffs and a handful of Ravenclaws were scattered around the room. Madam Pince nodded her head at your arrival then returned to her work behind the main desk.

Sliding into an empty table, you started to situate yourself. A stack of parchment was already waiting next to a clean quill and glass container of ink. It wasn’t hard to find the necessary textbooks and you returned back to your seat rather quickly.

A good twenty minutes had passed before your ears perked up at the sound of Madam Pince scolding a student. You didn’t have a clean view of her desk but you assumed a group had gotten too loud for her liking. Turning back to your book you faced away from the main entrance of the library. Eyes scanning the textbook, a new presence creeping up behind you went unnoticed. As you flipped to the next page in the advanced potions book, a grasp clamped down on either shoulder and a pair of lips hovered dangerously close to your ear. The unexpected warmth created a jolt on energy through your body. You practically flung out of your chair in surprise, whipping around to face your attacker. The initial glare and scowl soon washed away as your eyes met a familiar pair of warm, chocolate orbs.

George Weasley had a devilish grin, proudly basking in your shock. Not giving you a second to refuse his arrival, George pulled the wooden chair besides you out and sat in it. Throwing his arm across your shoulder, he smiled innocently at you.

“And what might you be doing in here on this eventful Friday evening, hm?”

Still reeling in shock, you placed your hand over your heart in hopes to calm down from the scare. Wildly glaring up at George, you yelled in a hush tone,

“George! You nearly gave me a heart attack- what’re you doing here?” You smacked his chest with a thud, though George remained unphased. His eyes squinted down at you while he shot back,

“Pretty sure I asked you first, love.” He said smugly. A large maroon and gold sweater adorned his frame, paired with dark washed jeans. You could smell the signature scent of pine and cinnamon that wafted wherever he followed. Folding your book on the table top, you glared playfully at the ginger.

“What else is there to do in a library besides studying?” The smart reply caused a twinkle in George’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning as his witty side took control. His fingers tightened around the blades of your shoulder, dragging you a tad closer to him.

“Plenty of things-” An instant smack came as you knocked his side once more. George chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by the flusterness taking over your features. Motioning towards the stack of parchment and mountain high pile of lengthy textbooks, you shook your head.

“I’ve got a lot of work due this coming week, so figured I’d get a head start.”

“Ah, you weren’t enjoying the party.” He declared knowingly. George typically never left your side during house parties. The anxiousness and suffocation of the noise that crept into your veins was always capped by the feeling of his arm around your shoulder protectively. Although tonight, George ran to the Golden Trio the moment the function began, leaving you alone in the corner with Dean and Seamus. You were friends with the boys but George was the only one who could make you feel relaxed and him being busy, escaping the party seemed like the best option.

Leaning into your chair, a heavy sigh fell from your parted lips at the recollection of tonight. “Not really I suppose. I don’t know… not in the partying mood tonight.” You admitted softly. George’s face furrowed immediately, concerned painting his features boldly. The dim lighting of the library all but hid the gleam of worry in his eyes.

“What’s got you stressed, darling?”

Scoffing at the question you picked up your book and started flipping through the pages again. For starters, you couldn’t decide where was the best place to start when it came to all your worries. There was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who returned last school year, the fact that the twins were planning on leaving early to open their shop (which they asked you to help run once you finished with school), home stress, school work, your feelings for George, trying to figure out your plans for after Hogwarts, and so much more. The weight of the world was crashing down on you and for the first time, you felt like allowing it to crumble you.

“You mean besides the school work I’m drowning in and the ever looming fear of being murdered by the Dark Lord himself? Eh, not much.” The sarcastic reply was all too familiar to George. Having spent the last seven years glued to your side, he started to pick up on your antics. Like your constant need to use sarcasm to hide your genuine fears. He studied you for a moment, searching for any hint on what really had you worked up.

Reaching his hand out, George plucked the potions book from your hands and started surveying it. He tilted the book upside down, pretending to read the text. Scrunching his brows, the fiery twin feigned comprehension of the material, a small ‘oohh’ and ‘hm’ falling from his lips as he did so. His silly antics caused you to giggle as he threw the book back to the table.

“Why’re you doing homework on a Friday night, anyhow? You’ve got all tomorrow morning and all day Sunday for that!”

“Technically have all day tomorrow as well-” George stopped you short as he cut into the conversation stubbornly.

“No, we’re all going to Hogsmeade and I already claimed your spot next to me at The Three Broomsticks!” He resembled a pouty child as he huffed besides you. Flipping the page of your textbook, your mouth bunched in the corner, guilt entering your bloodstream.

“I’m really sorry, Georgie. If my grades slip any further- my mum’ll have my head on a stick! Besides, I didn’t figure it would be that big of a deal, everyone else is going so I’m sure my absence will not be noticed.” Your laugh was meant to cover the tang of honest hurt, although you hoped it would slip past him. Of course, George noticed everything when it came to you and seeing you down was definitely not something he felt okay with ignoring.

“But I’ll notice- just like I did tonight.” He added with a point of the finger. It was true, George always seemed to notice when you were missing. He also always seemed to know where you were when you did sneak away.

“Thanks…” Trailing off, you glanced over to George. The honey like orbs were already examining your features. You assumed he must’ve picked up on the sadness dripping through your pores because the next thing you knew, George was offering up his entire Saturday.

“You want me to stay back with you?” Your head snapped in his direction immediately. With a bugged stare, you shook your head feverishly.

“What- no! You and Fred practically countdown the days until we get to go to Hogsmeade. I know how bad you wanna go, don’t skip out ‘cause of me.”

“We do have another trip next month so I can just wait to go until then. I’m sure Hogsmeade will still be flourishing by then. C’mon, you know you want me to stay back. You’ll bore yourself to death without me around!”

“You’d just be staying back because you feel bad-” George interrupted you, face reading bewilderment at your accusation.

“No, I’d be staying back because I want to. Y/n, when have I ever hung out with someone I don't want to be around- besides Percy seeing as I’m obligated to share a home with him. I want to spend time with you, that’s why I look forward to Hogsmeade trips. Get to spend time with you outside of the castle. So if you’re not there, I’m just gonna be miserable, love. Which means, I better just stay back with you.” A mischievous smirk rose to his lips as he finished his spiel, crossing his arms across his chest. The material of his sweater bunched around his fold and you admired Molly’s handiwork. Pressing your finger into his chest, you gave George a playful shove. He reached out for the table top to sturdy himself as he chuckled. Batting your lashes you teasingly cooed,

“Sounds like someone can’t get enough of me.” Not missing a beat, George rested his elbow on the tabletop. His chin was planted in his palm as he leered dreamily.

“Thought we already established that.” He winked over to you. Lifting up your heavy book, you sheltered your blushing cheeks behind the pages. Your forehead pressed deeply into the pages as you folded the covers around your heated face.

“You joke too much.” Mumbling into the book, you were taken aback when a hand abruptly snatched the book from your fingertips. You watched as the book went above your head, then settled in George’s hand. He snapped the cover shut between his hands, an echoing ‘snap’ invading the library. The peppermint lingering on his breath smacked against your lips. George ran his finger over the title page, then tossed it to the side. As the book slammed on the counter, he turned his head back to you.

“Never about my feelings towards you, though.” He stated seriously. Your brows pulled together in a stern line.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your furrowed gaze rested heavily upon him.

“I just… really like spending time with you. Like just the two of us.” As he finished speaking, you watched cautiously as George’s hand sneaked over to land on top of yours. His palm was warm on top of yours. After a few seconds, he flipped your hand over so it was set inside his. That comfort feeling bursted in your chest under the weight of his eyes. It was funny how the simplest of actions from him could cause a firework extravaganza in your chest. The tension in your throat was increasing.

“I do, too, Georgie. You’re very sweet.” You smiled awkwardly, the bashfulness overcoming every cell in your body. When Fred complimented you or was too kind, it made you suspicious. Usually he buttered you up before a prank, so you never fully trusted his words but George? George was too gentle to ever set you up or put you in harms way.

“Y/n… there was actually something I’ve been meaning to ask you- well something I was gonna ask you tomorrow but seeing as you’re not going, might as well as you now.” The mumble was a notch above audible. You watched on as he fumbled with his hands, twiddling his thumbs nervously. His anxiousness was contagious as you soon felt uneasy as well. Your mind raced in worry as you wondered what was clouding his mind. As if it was second nature, your hand moved out in reaction to his worrisome state to snake his hand into your own. Softening your piercing stare, you squeezed his hand tightly.

“What’s wrong, George?”

His attention was shifted to your locked hands. It wasn’t the first time you held his hand, although it was the first time you were knocked off balance by the wave of electricity streaming down your spine from the touch. Based on his reaction, you figured George felt it too.

“Uh, would you ever want to, like, go on a date? I um, I’ve really liked you for quite some time now and I keep trying to ask you but I get nervous cause… I just needed to tell you myself before Fred does it for me.”

“Tell me now if this is a prank, George Weasley.” The sternness in your voice was something George only heard on occasion. He knew not to joke when it came to your heart so he was taken aback by your words, though understood why. You saw the confusion stirring in his brain before he settled your worries.

“It’s not a prank, love, I swear on my life. I would never lie about my feelings, that I can promise.”

“Tomorrow?” You looked up, eyes peeking over to your side. George had hardly moved and stared blankly at you. It was if his brain had hit a wall and was lagging in processing. The candle on the table flickered, orange and red shadows flashing across his face. Even in the shadows the razor sharp edges of his jaw and cheekbones popped.

“Huh?” He croaked.

Catching a Weasley twin off guard was not a common thing and George appeared baffled. Hands folded in your lap, you could feel the small shake to his grasp. In an odd way, you felt a surge of confidence knowing you had the power to make George blush. Tightening your hand around his own, you roamed the pad of your thumb across his knuckles.

“Could we go on a date tomorrow? After I finished at least two of my papers- could we go on a date then?” It was hard to shake the electric shock tingling through your bones. Never before had you basked in eyes as beautiful as his. His eyes reminded you of a pool of whiskey and shades of chestnut. When the light flashed, a honey, caramel tint soaked his orbs. Simply calling them ‘brown’ eyes did no justice.

Your voice brought a large smile to George’s lips like he won the lottery. The glistening gleam brighten the dim corner of the library. You could feel your breathing become inconsistent once again at the sight. Nodding his head, you watched with a smile as his sandy, ginger hair danced in tune.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Does uh, does that mean you like me too?”

Leaning back in your seat, you started to think back on all your years at Hogwarts. There wasn’t an exact moment you fell for him- it didn’t happen all at once. It was born as a crush, your heart leaping at the sight of the handsome boy your first year. When you started hanging out with the twins, you immediately grew close with them by the third week. Since then, you only got closer with the twins although it was undeniable that there was always a more intense gravitational pull you felt towards George. Not that Fred hadn’t pointed out the obvious connection between his twin and you numerous times. He enjoyed harassing George and yourself a bit too much.

Shrugging your shoulder in uncertainty, you admitted,

“Honestly it’s been so long I can’t remember when I first started liking you. I mean I’ve had a crush on you since first year and… I’ve always found you to be the funniest, most handsome guy I’ve ever met.” You paused your word vomit to take in George’s expression for a sign. Glancing up, you noticed he was far closer to you than he was before. The tip of his nose faintly brushing against your own. Your eyes enlarged in seconds at the lack of space between you two. “What’re you doing?”

A gulp echoed through George. His teeth dug into the skin of his bottom lip, tugging at the skin in an attempt to calm his nerves. You viewed in curiosity as his eyes darted from your lips, to your eyes, then to the floor, then back to your lips again. Your suspicions were confirmed as George locked his peer into your own. His face read seriousness as he asked you gravely,

“Are you going to slap me if I kiss you? I’ve seen you knock the daylights out of Fred for trying to. Mum says you need to take a girl out before you kiss ‘em for real so I wanna do it somewhat right. Y’know, be a gentleman and such.” 

Your cheeks flared red instantly, eyes planted to the floor. George had always been sweet but you never expected him to be this sweet. There was nothing more in the world that you desired than finally getting to kiss George Weasley, but it was an incredible kind of him to take your own feelings into thought before acting. You pressed your lips together tightly, exceeding all your effort into suppressing the bashful smile threatening to breakthrough. It took everything inside to contain your excitement and nerves at his proposal.

George broke your messy train of thought as the sensation of his hand against your skin registered. His slim fingers brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear, then wrapped around the side of your cheek. Like two magnets matching up, you melted into his touch. Finally drawing your gaze back up, you placed the palm of your hand against George’s chest, grasping a light fist of his sweater for stability. The height difference wasn’t immense, but enough that you needed some sort of control to keep on your feet.

“How proper of you, Mr. Weasley. Yes, I would really like that.”

Leaning into his hand, you met George’s gaze as you slowly moved towards each other. Meeting in the middle, you were nearly knocked off your feet by the force of his embrace. Your lips connected like a perfectly mapped constellation. His kiss was warm and fulfilling, yet constantly left you wanting more. It was undeniable he had practice before, his lips moved far too calm for this to be his first.

You practically melted in his arms, kissing him softly. Your lips danced for a moment until you steadied your hand on his cheek, holding his face. You needed that sense of control, wanted to feel the hold you had under George. Taking the first leap, you dragged your wet tongue along the smoothness of his bottom lip. A tiny, almost inaudible groan fell from his mouth. You deepended the embrace momentarily, then pulled away to press one lasting kiss to his puckered lips. George giggled in reaction, a cherry red blush painting his cheeks.

“You’re adorable.” George ‘booped’ the tip of your nose when he finished speaking. You laughed at his action then extending your finger, you placed a similar tap to his nose and teased him,

“Stop talking about yourself, George.” Although before you could fully retreat your hand, George’s own wrapped around your fingers. In one swift motion he lifted your hand to his face, then pressed his lips to the back of your hand. As he raised his head, his arm was quick to wrap around your shoulder, jerking your chair towards George as a result. His fingers clutched your upper arm loving. 

That smug smile was plastered across his face again, pleasantly pleased with the peach glow tinting your cheeks. Feeling the heat rising you dove to cover your cheeks in the sleeves of his sweater. George accepted your full embrace, arms moving to circle your body entirely. Suddenly a light bulb popped in his mind as he released his grip slightly to glance down at you.

“Maybe if I help you with some of your paper tonight, we’ll have more time for our date tomorrow!” The excitement in his voice was by far the sweetest sound you’d heard. You smiled back at him and nodded in agreement.

“Sure but I do the writing- I don’t trust you enough for that. Your handwriting resembles that of a child.” You laughed at your own jab while George gave you a deadpan look, clearly unable to form a comeback. He’d say so himself that his print was what the Muggles would call ‘chicken scratch’, a phrase you taught George. When George first learned to write with a quill and ink, he had a tendency to smear the ink a smudge as he scribbled away faster than the speed of light. Molly would scold George as the side of his hand would be stained a deep black shade and his paper was hardly legible.

“Rude but, understandable.” George commented. It was sweet of him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he truly wanted to spend his Friday night stuck in the library. Raising your eyebrow to the boy, you gave him a questionable look.

“Wait, don’t you have a party you should be getting back to?” Arm still enclosed around your frame, George gave you a squeeze. A mischievous smirk now covered his lips as he confessed the truth. 

“What do you mean? I only threw that party with Fred so I could spend the night around you- maybe impress you with my wicked dance moves.”

Giving him a pointed look, your chest erupted with a fit of giggles. A memory popped into your mind of the first time you got the chance to view a drunk George Weasley putting on a ‘show’ for you. Sober George was a decent dancer but drunk George was on a different level of skill. The liquid courage had left George regretting a lot of nights and quite a bit of scenarios that came as a result. 

Although dancing drunk with you was never a regret of his. Especially when the two of you went to the Yule Ball together as ‘friends’. Mummers followed your every move as you waltzed with George, students gossiping about George and yourself. Not that you paid attention to anyone but George- there wasn’t a chance given to! You didn’t spend a single second resting on your feet as George had you dancing until the band was packing up. He spun, twisted, lifted, and twirling you all night long. When a slow song finally came on, the prankster king put his gentleman side on full display. It was by far one of the best nights of your life, one you still had yet to stop daydreaming over. Poking his side, you smirked teasingly at the boy.

“Georgie, darling, I’ve seen them before. You’d have a better chance sending yourself to the infirmary than impressing me with your ‘moves’. I haven’t forgotten the Yule Ball last year. My head was spinning for a month!” You laughed together at the reminiscence. George was just as mesmerized by the night as you, maybe a tad more so. For those few hours of pure bliss, George had never felt more complete. Seeing you all dressed up and glowing from head to toe- the image was captured in his mind forever. He never understood the term ‘speechless’ until he saw you walking down the stairs in search of him. He replayed that moment over and over again for a year now. Rubbing your shoulders lovingly, George leaned his head on top of yours.

“Aw, c’mon! You loved it! Twirling around like a beautiful ballerina in your dress. You looked breathtaking- everyone was staring at you. Can’t blame them, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you either.” His words made your insides feel fuzzy, kinda like the sleeve of his sweater. That of which your fingers were absentmindedly petting. George smiled down at the quirk, he loved every antic of yours.

Shaking your head, you pulled the book back that George had discarded. After all, you still had a stack of unwritten essays to get working on. You popped open the top of the ink container. George unraveled his arm from your shoulder to wrap lightly around your waist.

“Stop making me blush.” Crimson flooded your s/c cheeks, far too flustered to meet George’s eyes. That confidence from early had flown away just as sudden as it came. A sprout of warmth came as George’s finger pressed against the side of your jaw, turning your face. Sweetly, and silently, he requested your gaze to which you obliged.

“But you look so beautiful when you do, darling. Now stop distracting me- we have a paper to write, in case you’ve forgotten, love.” His lips darted forward and soon enough, his enticing lips kissed your reddening cheeks. George smirked teasingly, reaching the feathered quill out to brush against your nose. You lightly smacked it away, giggling at him as you did.

“You’re the one distracting me-” The squeal was silenced by George as he pretended to ignore your words as he continued to tease you. Pressing his finger against your lips, George purred,

“Hush, we’ve got work to do so I can take you out tomorrow, love.”

“Fine but don’t forget Georgie, I’m doing the writing.” Narrowing your playful glare, you spoke sternly. It was a sort of game you played- going back and forth with one another. Although finally that teasing crossed the line of flirting to something real. In a way, it almost felt fake. Like all those years of waiting hadn’t really paid off, you were just asleep in your dorm room, dreaming this all up.

The touch of George’s arm leaving your waist cold was enough to question; however the radiating sensation of his hand slipping into yours was confirmation it was real. The chaste kiss he left on the back on your hand still buzzed. Despite the lack of lighting, every handsome feature was distinct from his blazing locks to the scatter of freckles dotting his face. Giving you a sly wink George flirted,

“Ah, I love a woman who takes control.”

For the next hour and a half, far in the corner, behind rows of bookshelves and torches to light to way, George and yourself attempted to write your essay. The first hour consisted of stolen kisses, stolen looks, and George constantly stealing your book from your hands. He made it nearly impossible to the point you threatened to cancel your study date, which shaped him up immediately. 

The last half and hour George read to you different pages from your stack of books until you got a good jump on the paper. You were feeling hopeful until Madam Pince had announced the library would be closing for the night. In a matter of seconds, George’s hand was clamped around your wrist, attempting to drag you out. You managed to scoop your school supplies together and tuck them away in your bag before allowing him to escort you back to the common room. You just hoped your study date tomorrow would consist of some actual study. If not, it’s a good thing you have all of Sunday.

[deadorcaffeinated]

Sparks, Pt. 4

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get ready to confront the God of Mischief. But are you ready for that?

A/N: Finally, a bit more Loki.

TW: Eating

After a year consisting mostly of isolation and non-consensual experimentation, it was strange, to say the least, to have people actually give a shit about your well-being.

Shortly after Fury called the meeting to a close, Nat took you to a sort of staff room, oddly normal for a ship like this. State of the art, but with all the basic workings of a regular office’s staff room.

“You must be starving,” she said, pulling some things out of an impressive reach-in refrigerator. “Sandwich? I make a mean ham and cheese.”

Your stomach suddenly let out a worrying growl, and you winced.

“Sounds fantastic, actually,” you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten. The lab hadn’t exactly been feeding you five star meals.

A comfortable silence settled into the room while Natasha assembled the sandwich. The quiet sounds of her work lulled you into a sort of trance, as you stared at the wall, and definitely didn’t think about how an agent of a secret organization was preparing you lunch on a giant aircraft carrier thousands of feet in the air which was also occupied by two gods, a historic super soldier, and the most famous tech genius in the world.

No. You didn’t think about it at all.

She presented you with her finished product and a glass of water with a flourish, which also included a bag of chips and an apple. “It might be too much, so only eat as much as you want. It’s better to take it easy when your stomach isn’t used to meals like this.”

You nodded and gave her an expression which you hoped looked more grateful than grimace. Truth be told, you were holding back emotion as even this small kindness felt overwhelming after the past year.

But as you picked up the sandwich to take a bite, a heavy set of footsteps stopped at the door.

It was Thor, his large frame standing almost sheepishly in the doorway. “Apologies for interrupting. May I speak with you?”

To your surprise, the question was for you, and after a nod, Nat touched your wrist and said, “I’ll be right outside. You can have the room.”

After she exited, Thor approached your table with a sort of caution.

“Oh, sorry, uh, would you like to sit down?” You stuttered lamely, when noticing his hesitation.

He nodded and did so, dwarfing the chair and the table. You hadn’t really taken the time to notice before, how huge his arms and shoulders were. A single bicep was larger than the size of your own head.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal. You need your strength,” Thor said, eyes flicking to the plate. “Especially if you’re going to be facing my brother.”

Ah. That.

“Is that…” You were still having a bit of trouble processing the identity of who you were talking to. “Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Loki’s always been deceptive. I just wanted to warn you not to listen to anything he says, especially not at face value. He will try to distract you, deceive you, and it will seem he knows more about you than he should.”

As he spoke, you noticed he kept eyeing the potato chip packet next to your plate. You pushed it towards him, and he gratefully accepted, popping the bag open and nervously munching on its contents.

You hummed in thought. “I understand. Maybe it would help to know what kinds of abilities he has? What sort of tricks he’s able to pull?”

Thor seemed to relax slightly, having something to occupy his mind and hands. He regaled you with a few anecdotes of how Loki had used his magic to trick him, some from their childhood, and some more recently.

You found yourself both more reassured and more nervous, afraid there might be something you would miss allowing Loki an out. Or a way to hurt you. But all of that aside, it was almost fun to converse with Thor like this… being nearly immortal led to having many interesting stories to tell, and the more he told the more animated he became. He even had you laughing at some points.

“Thank you,” he held up the empty chip bag. “I haven’t had these since my last visit to Earth. A favored Midgardian dish, if I recall.”

You smiled. “No problem. And thank you for warning me. I know it must be difficult to... fight with family like this.”

“Yes,” a sad half smile lifted one side of his lips, “I’m afraid that is something I am still coming to terms with.”

Before he rose from his seat, Thor clapped you on the shoulder. “You know, you remind me of my first Midgardian friends. I believe they would like you. One of them zapped me with a small device that even mimics your powers.”

With that strange but kind remark, Thor left the room.

….

Natasha said she had things she needed to attend to, but that you were welcome to walk around as you pleased, and to just be careful not to stumble into anything that looked even mildly secret or dangerous.

So you aimlessly wandered the giant airship, mostly in an attempt to walk off some nerves. You tried to memorize your paths, memorize the turns and rooms, but after a while you realized just how much you’d fucked up. It was a fruitless endeavor, and you eventually found yourself quite lost.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself.

You turned the way you came, but as you did so, something shifted in the corner of your eye. Whipping frantically towards the movement, you felt your body tense like an animal being hunted, and thoughts of the masked man from the labs flooded your mind.

No, he couldn’t be here. Your mind was playing tricks, your anxiety was getting the better of you.

“My, my,” a silvery voice said into your ear. “You are jumpy, aren’t you?”

Reeling back, you slammed into the opposite wall, nearly knocking yourself out with the force of it. You still didn’t see the source of the voice.

“What is the reason for this skittishness, I wonder?”

Loki.

He materialized in front of you, and you froze like a deer in the headlights. He rolled his eyes. “Calm yourself. This is not an escape attempt.”

You did not find that convincing.

“This is merely a projection. My real body is still in that cell… Here, see for yourself.” His right hand swept out to beckon to you, palm up.

Did he want you to… touch him? Your earlier conversation with Thor filtered through your head, and you knew it would be a bad idea. You did not move. Again, frustration showed on Loki’s creased brow.

“Fine, look.” Then, through a wall of solid steel, Loki passed his hand as if he were just a hologram.

“What do you want?” you asked abruptly.

He looked faintly surprised that you had spoken, but schooled his expression quickly. “I want to know more about you.”

“What?” It was your turn to be surprised (not that you’d stopped since he materialized from nowhere). “Why?”

“It’s not every day I meet a mortal who can withstand an Infinity Stone’s power,” he chuckled, as if that were clearly obvious.

Your blank stare must’ve clued him in to the fact that the significance of this ‘Infinity Stone’ was lost on you, because he only sighed.

“Rest assured, it’s not something a normal human should be able to do,” he said. “So… what is different about you?”

He stepped closer, and though you knew he couldn’t touch you, you recoiled further into the wall. His stare was piercing, and he clearly enjoyed that it made you squirm.

Finally you mustered up the courage to respond. “I’ve already told this story once today,” you said, sounding more like a petulant child than you meant to.

“Touchy subject?”

“It’s not particularly fun to talk about, no.”

He didn’t move any closer but didn’t relinquish you your space either. He just studied you as if he could discern your entire history from your visual being.

You wondered if you should just turn and walk away, or if he had some way of stopping you. Even more unexpected though, was the realization that you wanted to talk to him, that maybe this conversation could help you in your real life encounter that was to happen soon.

“Why did you approach me in the pub?” you asked, and though it wasn’t the answer he apparently wanted, he looked pleased that you were engaging him now. “I was curious.”

“And when you blasted me with the scepter?”

“I wanted to see what would happen.” He shrugged, as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

“And now that you have? What do you want?”

A beat of silence. Then, “What do you think?”

You thought, if he had had a plan before, your presence must have thrown quite the wrench and that if he were smart, he would be trying to figure out exactly how big and disastrous that wrench would be. “I think you didn’t expect me to be involved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is true.” Then a smirk began to form on his mouth and he squinted at you. “They’re planning something with you, aren’t they? Fury and his subordinates.”

Your widened eyes must have been all the answer he needed. How did he know?

With a laugh, “They have so much at their disposal, weapons of mass destruction, all of Stark’s technology, and they defer to the prowess of a child they’ve only just met?” Loki leaned in so close the green of eyes felt overwhelming. “They must be truly desperate.”

A familiar voice, Tony’s, called your name from around the corner, echoing off the metal walls of the hallway. But Loki didn’t move. His eyes remained on you, so sharp and curious, you felt like an animal on a dissection tray.

“Until next we meet, then.”

And with that, he vanished.

“Sparks,” Tony came around to your stretch of hallway. “Thought that was your voice. You lost? Talking to yourself? You know, cabin fever usually takes a lot longer than a few hours to set in.”

Still a little too stunned to speak, you gulped and nodded.

Tony’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You good? Looking a little green around the gills, Pikachu.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright.” Your voice returned to you. “And.. Pikachu? Really?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but seemed to let it go. He shrugged. “I like to change it up-- and are you, or are you not, electrically charged at all times?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. He clapped you on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he turned, waving you to follow him. “Want you to see what we cooked up for ya.”

————

The conducting table was ready. Only a few moments before you stepped into Loki’s cage, the first time you would be in the same physical space as him since he basically almost murdered you.

Cool. All cool. You were definitely not feeling a panic attack setting in. You were definitely breathing at a normal rate and not feeling your lungs seize up in your chest.

“We’ll be right here, if anything goes wrong,” Steve said, laying a hand gently on the back of your shoulder.

“Aye,” Thor said. “I’ll be standing with you.”

There was a stone in your throat as you looked at Loki through the thick glass. He seemed to feel your gaze, and slowly turned to look, grinning when he saw you watching.

Loki’s hands were shackled, sitting on the table in front of two conducting handles, which were mirrored on the other side. The idea was that you both grip them, and you would be able to dig through his mind… theoretically.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” you said. You felt sweat under your arms, and your face getting hot with anxiety.

Fury eyed you. “Just do what you can.”

The door to his cell whooshed open, and flanking you on either side as you entered were Cap and Thor. Loki regarded them with that same smirk as they entered, soon followed by Fury and Natasha. Tony and Dr. Banner remained on the other side of the glass.

“Is this the best you can do?” He said, his eyes flaring at you. “Insulting, really.”

Fury ignored him, directing you to the empty chair at the other end of the table.

“On my go,” he said, and stood to the right of the table. He pinned Loki with a stare.

Loki shot back a challenging look before his gaze settled on you and his hands moved to grip the handles. “On your go.” And at that moment, in full purview of that slanting grin, you understood why he was called the God of Mischief.

Fury nodded at you.

Now or never.

And, sparing a passing thought to the entropy that was your life and the risks of what you were about to do, you grabbed the handles.

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