#and how i might be able to make mr. perfect seem intriguing

[prosebushpatch]

This is just on my mind for writing reasons, but im really interested in the psychology behind who people pick in fire emblem three houses without spoilers. Because the game gives you like a sentence snippet for each kid and you're left to deduce who you want to follow based on that and I feel like, looking back, I could tell immediately what kind of characters they would be and made my choice accordingly. But then I hear others first impressions of the characters I'm always surprised by their interpretations.

[the-andromeda-effect]

5

Adira’s cheeks flamed bright pink at his flattery, especially because the look in his eye said that he meant it.  When was the last time Mircea had complimented her?  Kissed her hand?  Cheek?  ANYWHERE?  It had been so long since there had been one singular drop of affection from him that she could not remember.  It caused a lump in her throat that was hard to swallow around.  “You are too sweet, Caliban.”  Her eyes dropped for just a beat as she smiled before looking back up at him.

Theron wondered what exactly had happened at the house Adira had been held at and in the car to bring about this little scene that he was witnessing.  That Caliban hadn’t killed her after finding out that she had been abused had intrigued him, but this was something more.  It was nice to see his old friend relaxed and he could swear those were honest smiles.  Maybe making that joke was a better idea than he thought. Only the night would tell as it went on.

"So, Mr. and Mrs. Andros," Theron wore a shit eating grin, "I will assume a prenuptial is not needed.   I will have all legal identification here in two days.  Wedding was a week ago, before the late Mrs. Kalavati was kidnapped.   You really should take her on a proper honeymoon, Caliban.  All work and no play makes the compound get testy." He was having way too much fun with this now.  It was rare that he was there on anything but heavy business, so it would be enjoyed while it could be.

"Theron, you're ruining all my surprises." Caliban said with a wink in his direction. Once his friend had mentioned taking a honeymoon, Caliban thought it would be the perfect time to actually get to know Adira away from the mansion where there were prying eyes and ears at times.

"Oh, that isn't necessary." Adira forgot Theron's warning from earlier. "I'm sure that Caliban has a lot of work plus the expense of it. There is no…"

Once more Caliban cut her off with a finger and a smirk.  He had a feeling he might have fun doing that for a while.  She really was rather adorable with pink cheeks.  "I don't know a vacation away from the stress of work to get to know one another after how quickly our relationship progressed might be better than biting one another’s heads off in frustration or my hurting your feelings.  I'll even let you pick the location.  And please, when has money ever been a concern for me?” He scoffed then leaned forward so he could just whisper next to her ear. “It also will give you some time to relax after all you've been through, my dear."  Theron was definitely getting a bonus, this idea might be genius.  As soon as he'd joked about it, the logic had hit Caliban of why a trip away would be perfect.

"Okay, you two are ganging up on me.” She laughed, her eyes lighting up.  “Tropics?"  He had a point, a good one.  If they were going to pretend the part of being a married couple to give her a cover for suddenly appearing in his life and to help her restart her life, actually having some clue who the other person was would definitely help with that. Learning about one another in a beautiful tropical location was just a bonus.

"In that case, I will make sure to have all of your documents back as quickly as possible." Theron replied.  "I said it should only be two days, and I’ll make sure it is no more than that. Then the happy couple should be able to take off to whatever wonderful location you will be enjoying.  If you need me to fill out any paperwork to make it happen, do not hesitate, Caliban.  I do not want to be the one to hold you up from enjoying away time with your lovely bride." He looked over to Amira and winked, he already adored her.  

Adira looked at Caliban, feeling a little uncertain. It all seemed to have been happening so fast since this morning, but she was glad to be out of the basement. There was something about the way that Caliban was interacting with Theron that told her that she was far safer with these two men than she had been before, possibly even dating back to when she got married to Mircea.  He was offering her a job, he was offering a new name, and he was offering her a start in life. If part of that life was having to pretend to be married to him for a while until they could figure something else out, that seemed like a small trade.

Once the teasing over the honeymoon had ended, the three of them got down to talking about what her role in the company would be, and how she would work with Theron. It would be a lot with him that she would be working. That they got along with great ease did make Caliban feel very relaxed. While he got along with Theron well, not everybody took the lawyer's sense of humor the way he did.

After the trip, she would work in Caliban's office, and Theron would visit as needed for contracts and to accompany her to any negotiation meetings. Until they were sure that she would save from her ex-husband's reach, she would go nowhere alone or be unaccompanied even within their offices. There was very tight security within the offices for their company and even within the mansion, neither of the men were so naive as to believe that they did not have those who might be giving information to people who had competing interests.

Hours passed as they discussed the different details of things that would take place.  Caliban started to notice a slowing in Adira’s responses, and watched.  It had been a while since food had been delivered to her.  Picking up his phone he texted the head of the house staff to ask for dinner to be prepared for the three of them and also for tea to be brought for Adira.  The doctor had said no coffee for a few days, but that tea and water would be good for her.  They may not be actually be married, but that did not mean that Caliban was not concerned for the woman he had just taken into his care.

A few short minutes later, the tea was delivered, much to Adira’s surprise.  She looked over at Caliban, who gave her a warm smile and nodded, causing a bright pink to flush her cheeks once more.  Theron watched the interaction with amusement.  His old friend was not even aware of his own actions, he didn’t think.  Only time would tell.

[ulkaralakbarova]

When a reporter goes undercover as a nanny to get the inside scoop on a playboy prince, she gets tangled in some royal intrigue and ends up finding love – but will she be able to keep up her lie? Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Amber: Rose McIver Prince Richard: Ben Lamb Queen Helena: Alice Krige Princess Emily: Honor Kneafsey Count Simon: Theo Devaney Mrs. Averill: Sarah Douglas Baroness Sophia: Emma Louise Saunders Prime Minister Denzil: Tom Knight Rudy Moore: Daniel Fathers Mr. Little: Richard Ashton Max Golding: Amy Marston Melissa: Tahirah Sharif Andy: Joel McVeagh Ron: Vaughn Johseph D.P.S. Gill: Paul Courtenay Hyu Jack: Doru Catanescu Vlad: Axel Moustache Sandy: Irina Săulescu Ian: Radu Andrei Micu Nigel: Lace Akpojaro Ted: Andrew Barron Film Crew: Director: Alex Zamm Writer: Karen Schaler Associate Producer: Vince Balzano Executive Producer: Eric Jarboe Unit Production Manager: Amy Krell Executive Producer: Brad Krevoy Casting: Carolyn McLeod Executive Producer: Amanda Phillips Executive Producer: Jimmy Townsend Editor: Marshall Harvey Casting: Melissa DeLizia Gaffer: Lucian Diaconu Music Editor: Dave Lawrence Director of Photography: Viorel Sergovici Co-Producer: Nate Atkins Production Design: Sorin Dima Co-Executive Producer: Mickey Gooch First Assistant Director: Joel Morales Line Producer: Cristian Bostanescu Camera Operator: Lulu de Hillerin Camera Operator: Alecu Popescu Production Sound Mixer: Nicolae Radu Original Music Composer: Zack Ryan Movie Reviews: trineo03: First of all, the acting in this film isn’t that bad. You can easily tell that everybody is trying their hardest to portray these characters. Some of them came across as real-life people while others just felt like characters in a movie. This could mainly be pointed to the writing in this film. Some of the lines in this film were just hilariously bad and cringy and I would give examples but I already forgot them. But I do have to say the scenery was stunning and the production on this was well done. Each set and costume looked perfect for each scene. The costumes fit each character and showed a bit more into their personality. For example, Richard’s outfits made him look like royalty but at the same time, a normal guy because that’s what he wants to be. This film had lots of pacing issues. From beginning to end it didn’t feel like that was the speed it should be going at. The beginning felt slow while the ending felt to fast. The creators of the film might have thought they had a longer film and then realized they only had a one hour and thirty-two-minute film so they had to quickly resolve the film. The last thing I want to talk about is the relationship in this film. It’s not believable or relatable. I know it shouldn’t be relatable seeing how it is about a journalist falling in love with a prince but the writers still should make it so some people can relate to at least one of them. And it isn’t believable because it seems too rushed. Throughout the entire film, they are hardly around each other and then all of a sudden he just loves her. There is no explanation why just little subtle hints. In the end, A Christmas Prince is perfect for people who like RomComs but for others not so much. I give A Christmas Prince a 6/10. Kamurai: Decent watch, probably won’t watch again, but can recommend. While it isn’t anything truly special, it’s a decent version of a “journalist in disguise falls in love” trope. Though the object of affection being a prince allows for resources that almost anyone wouldn’t turn down. There certainly is a lot of production put into the movie to maintain the grand perception of royals, but the best part of the movie is the heart felt Christmas vibe of it. Unfortunately, this is mostly achieved through the secondary characters and them influencing the royal family.

[inukag-archive]

Hello! Do you guys have any fic recs where they are high school / college teachers/profs? I didn't find anything on your tumblr and haven't found much on ao3 but maybe I just suck at tags

have a great day

Hello Nonnie!

We definitely felt your pain in the AO3 tags with this one. While “Alternate Universe - High School” and “Alternate Universe - College/University” are very popular tags, it doesn’t say if they are teachers or students– and the latter is by far more popular. However, we were able to find a sizable selection in AO3 and FFN so hopefully there’s enough below to keep your TBR list full for a while!

A Note From the Fic Finders: If you need more stories with a teaching angle, it’s more common for Kagome to work in an elementary school than a HS/College setting so adjusting your search terms to include that will give you significantly more results. 

Hot for Teacher by@keizfanfiction  (M)

Kagome surprises the Weapon's Tech professor with a late night visit after classes are over and after a particularly intriguing discussion of sorts involving the malleability of swords, Inuyasha demonstrates that hard wood can be far greater than any steel or metal.

–

Loverboy by TheMondyChild (E)

A recent arrival to the city, Kagome finds work teaching at a prestigious high school for only the most elite brats of society. She expected some trouble, but she certainly didn’t expect the kind of darkness that rules the school. Caught in a battle of wills with a psychopathic student intent on overpowering her, how long will she survive—and keep her marriage vows?

–

A Thousand Golden Suns Ago by @inussunflower (T)

Long ago, Inuyasha—then known as Albinus—made a deal with Pluto, the Roman God of the Underworld in which he exchanged his soul for the return of his wife, Augusta. Thousands of years passed, and tens of women had come close but none were her. Until one day, while taking a shortcut to work...he met her. He met Kagome. And that, regrettably, was the beginning of the end for him.

In which Inuyasha gives up his mortality to see his wife one last time.

–

Prurience by TheMondayChild (E)

Hot for teacher.

–

Misconceptions by pyrrhical (anoyo) (G)

This was it. Her first year as a teacher. A college professor, really, but a teacher nonetheless.

–

InuKag Kendo Club Series by @fawn-eyed-girl (E) 

Taisho Yash is the top university kendo coach in the country. Higarashi Kagome is a powerful miko, a history PhD student, and the kendo club's team manager. The series details how they met, how they fell in love, how they cope with various obstacles thrown their way, and how they continue to find their way to each other, every day of their lives

–

Hidden Secrets by Lbliss21490 (M)

**COMPLETED** Alternate ending to the series- It's been five years since the well closed. Kagome, who is now attending Tokyo University, says goodbye to Inuyasha and moves away, heartbroken that she can no longer be with her hanyou. However, as she takes a history class, she becomes enamored with Yashiro Nagasaki, a young history professor who reminds her strangely of Inuyasha. As time goes on, she wonders what happened to Inuyasha as she succumbs to her attraction to the professor...

Little does she know, he has secrets of his own, and Kagome must decide if she will share the part of her life where she loved a hanyou.

–

Coffee Break by @alannada (T)

A High School AU with a twist! Romance, drama, coffee, tests grading dates! For now it's kids-friendly, but it might change later

–

The Matchmakers of Shikon High by @neutronstarchild (T)

Jakotsu had to do something. His grumpy dog hanyō math teacher sometimes made life miserable with his tirades, and seemed to be growing grumpier by the day! Mr. Taisho needed love. When Jakotsu recruited his best friends to help him find the perfect person to make Mr. Taisho’s scowl become a smile, they realized they already had the perfect candidate: their amazing theater teacher Ms. Higurashi. Now… they just had to convince the two of them to fall in love.

Inspired by Clueless.

–

Teacher Teacher Teacher by InuFanGoddess (M)

Kagome is a new transfer teacher who is 22 years old in Shikon High, an all male school and Inuyasha is a popular playboy student who causes chaos and tries to make the teachers suffer, believing that no teacher actually cares. Can Kagome show him that teachers actually care? or will their growing attraction prove fatal to them, filled with love, suspense, drama, and comedy

–

Hush by TheOperaRose (M)

She was the student. He was the teacher. A drunken one night stand leading to a forbidden relationship. But what is the teacher to do when the student becomes unfaithful?

–

You Can’t Change the Past by kunasu (K+)

Inuyasha is a college professor and Kagome is a single parent, her child is Shippo! Miroku is just another college professor and Sango is a best friend to Kagome and she baby-sits Shippo. Any questions?

–

The Beginning of Life by DeletedAccountNotChangingMyMind (T)

She's a college professor out to prove that anyone can change, he's a deformed man, a freak he calls himself, just looking to be normal. One night changes their lives and takes them on an adventure neither of them could have imagined.

[opalesense]

the last appointment

zhongli & gn!reader

3.4k words • ~25 min. read

summary: as a studious and credible fortune teller in liyue, you discover something about your last client of the week that completely derails your outlook on life.

warnings: liyue arc spoilers, little bit of existential dread, slight mention of family member’s death

notes: might make more parts to this idk?  just kinda wanted to dip my toes into genshin writing for the first time!!

LIFE IN LIYUE HARBOUR seemed to be repetitive and mundane.  For the past few years, you would wake up, open your fortune telling shop, analyze the futures of your clients using your geomancy, possibly take a stroll around Liyue when you needed to run errands, and then call it a day.  You performed the same routine constantly, sometimes travelling beyond the harbor to collect crystals and magical supplies for your shop, but rarely did anything truly change in your routine.  If something was off in the slightest, it was never too exciting to note.

   As anyone would have suspected, you were tired of your state of limbo in life.  Other vision holders seemed to be going on adventures, travelling with companions and exploring the vast mountains and valleys of Teyvat.  Other vision holders seemed to be fighting against evil, helping citizens, and saving the world from imminent dangers.  You could even recall a recent event where the Qixing had evacuated the harbor to defeat a terrifying sea monster.  The Jade Chamber had been sacrificed for the safety of the people of Liyue, and yet here you were, playing with a bunch of rocks for a living.  Despite being able to grasp the glowing Geo vision that held your coat together, you could not grasp why you felt doomed to tend to this shop for the rest of your days.

   You didn’t know where or how to “start” your life.  The small, inherited establishment from your late aunt was located in the small alley of Chihu Rock, practically out of sight from most of the foot traffic in the harbor.  Not many people came to visit, though your name was still decently known.  In fact, most of your appointments were simply previous clients from your aunt, regulars that relied on her readings for years and believed you were the next best thing after she passed.  Especially considering you were the first vision holder in your family, it made your credibility even stronger.

   You still remember how you got your vision.  The morning after your aunt had passed, the elemental gift somehow made its way into your hand as if the timing was meant to be perfect.  You didn’t celebrate such a special and momentous occasion with pride or joy.  Your face stiff with tears, you instead reflected on why you received your vision at that moment in the first place.  With the shop doors closed upstairs, you gripped your vision and did what you felt needed to be done.  With your family’s legacy and tradition on the line, adventuring like other vision wielders was not a priority at the time.

   But after years alone of research, a social life consisting only of interacting with customers, and a constant state of grieving the experiences you could’ve had in your youth, you were now in your late twenties and closing the shop for the day.  Your last appointment was either extremely late or not showing up at all and you were tired of working today, just like every other day. Regret gripped you tightly as you wondered how you managed to get yourself in such a boring, slow burning loop.

   That is until the shop door opened, eliciting a gasp from you at the sudden noise, shattering the previous thought.  You accidentally dropped the basket of cor lapis you were refilling and immediately knelt down to pick up the precious pieces that thankfully hadn’t cracked on the way down.

   “Hello, [Y/N],” the tall figure practically glided through the doorway, “My deepest apologies for being late.”

   He closed the door behind him, “...and for startling you, it seems.”

   You sighed, checking for any scratches on the gems and sighed again with relief based on the good results.  You grinned to hide the fact you had just been in deep thought.  “It’s quite alright, Mr. Zhongli.  It’s kind of you to stop by at the very least, even if you’re late.”

   Mr. Zhongli was one of your aunt’s longtime clients.  Since you were a child, your aunt had always described Mr. Zhongli as a complex yet thoughtful man that had always shown kindness to your family for many years.  When Mr. Zhongli learned of your aunt’s death and began to receive readings from you instead, you quickly realized what your aunt meant by calling him complex.  Mr. Zhongli was truly a tough nut to crack in every single reading, his sessions taking longer than most other cases.  That is why Mr. Zhongli would always offer to take the last spot of the day at the end of every week as to not trouble any of your other clients.

   As you took a few of the best cor lapis from the basket, you could see Mr. Zhongli’s acts of kindness and thoughtfulness unfold in front of you.  He seemed to carry what was now clearly a gift basket at closer inspection.

   “This gift is for you,” Mr. Zhongli took a few steps forward to set the basket on a countertop.  “I brought you your favorites.  Slow cooked bamboo shoot soup, qingxin, glaze lilies, and all the crystals I could find…  needless to say, let this be a token of my appreciation for your patience and hard work from our last few sessions.  I know I am not the easiest to read, but you truly have a talent.”

   You were speechless at the gesture as your eyes sunk into the intricate detail of the handwoven basket and decorated items inside.  No one had ever done something so kind for you in so long.  It was astonishing enough that he remembered your favorite soup that you mentioned only once a few months ago, let alone your favorite flowers and crystals as well.  “Thank you so much, Mr. Zhongli!   I’m at a loss for words – this is so thoughtful of you!”

   “I even brought you that Rex Incognito series you had mentioned, although, I am not sure why you would need to read the series when I am fully capable of educating you on the history of Rex Lapis myself,” he flaunted, taking his seat on the cushioned chair in front of the reading table.

   “Now, Mr. Zhongli...” you picked out some prithiva topaz from another basket, following the usual protocol you had with such a personalized, frequent client like him. The required materials for his readings were imprinted into your memory like carvings in stone. “You know I don’t want to burden you with my curiosity.  And with such an intriguing topic like Rex Lapis... once I start asking questions I’m afraid I will not stop.”

   “I have all the time in the world,” he got comfortable in his seat as you sat yourself across from him, “I truly think it would benefit you to discuss the history of Rex Lapis with a learned scholar such as myself.  We can even have some tea as we discuss.”

   You chuckled at his eagerness.  He seemed more forward than usual. “You are too kind, Mr. Zhongli.  Perhaps I’ll take that offer someday, but at least let me put those books to good use first. Maybe I won’t need to bombard you with questions if I’m already well briefed on the subject.”

   He sighed happily.  “You make a good point. And you will enjoy them, I’m sure.”

   You settled into your seat as you arranged the crystals between the two of you.  “The usual for tonight?”

   “Yes, please.”

   Your hands meticulously placed the last crystal in its spot on the surface.  You closed your eyes and hovered your hands above the rocks, clearing your mind to make way for the usual reading: a reflection on the past, any significant events of the present to focus on, and some insight into the future.  You held this hand gesture for awhile, letting the energy from the rocks lift into the air and envelop your gloved palms.  When you felt there was enough energy to work with, you opened your eyes to reveal the manifestation of his thoughts in front of you, able to take its physical form using the powers from your glowing vision.

   No one had ever taught your this skill, not even your aunt.  If you had to bloat your own ego, one could say you invented this Geo fortune telling process yourself. The process indeed came to you naturally, a true display of pure talent.

   You slowly lifted your hands to allow the visual manifestation to settle on the table among the gems so Mr. Zhongli could watch his reading unfold in front of him as well.

   “Let us analyze the past first,” he spoke, already knowing the routine without you needing to ask him where to start.  You slowly waved your hands as if you were digging a hole in sand on a beach, the manifestation displaying ambiguous patterns that wouldn’t make sense to any commoner’s eyes but could be interpreted easily by yours.

   Two pairs of focused eyes fixated on the picture as you spoke your mind out loud.  “You have recently given up something extremely important to you, it seems.  I see you handing over something…  small, physically, yet unbelievably significant and personal.  I can’t tell what it is exactly, only that it glows like the sun with its energy.  But you have handed this important object over to a very... evil... figure?” you cocked your eyebrow, confused.  “You seem to be brooding over the fact that its aura is dark with malicious intentions.”  You hesitated, “Well, that can’t be right, can it?”

   He sighed.  “Unfortunately, that is indeed what happened recently.  But it had to be done.”

   “Didn’t we talk about a similar situation in a previous reading?  If I remember correctly, I thought I had advised you to not give up whatever that object was.”

   “I am aware of the consequences that will follow.  Especially with your future guidance, I’m sure the events following this one questionable decision will unfold in a better way soon enough.”

   “I will always be here to help you, Mr. Zhongli.  But please be careful in the future with these decisions.  The importance of this object seems to be off the charts.”

   He nodded.  “It is as you say.  Please, have faith in me now. I cannot change what happened in the past, after all.”

   You hovered over this image of the sacrifice.  You couldn’t make out what this object was, no matter how close you tried to inspect it.  It had the likings of a chess piece, but surely this wasn’t simply a chess piece, was it?

   “Let us move on, if that is alright with you,” his low voice cut the silence.

   You wiped the image from your mind and waved your hands again, as if you were slowly putting the sand back into the hole you dug before.  If the last image wasn’t enough bad news, this new one that formed was even more painful to witness.

   “You have been grieving your losses very recently,” you said gently.  “Your mind is currently weighed down by your past.  I see you looking out at the sea in deep thought.  There are flashes of…”

   You stopped as you inspected the graphic images that suddenly appeared beyond your hands.  You gasped at the terrifying horrors.

   “What is it?” the low voice tried to search for understanding of what you were seeing.  Even though the image was clearly laid out in front of him, it was still too ambiguous to tell when he lacked your years of experience.

   “There are flashes of war,” your breath stifled as you watched his thoughts splayed out in images of lifeless bodies and destruction.  “Very graphic details of war and death.  Mr. Zhongli, I believe this image of suffering has been weighing over your mind like an anchor in the sea.”

   He paused to process your comparison.  “That is... a very good way to put it.”

   “Though, I believe that despite the sorrow that emanates in this image, you are in a state of relief and tranquility.  It seems you are grieving, but you are simultaneously at peace,” you hesitated again, “Yet I wonder what these graphic images of war are meant to represent.  Surely we are not in an actual war, are we? Perhaps you are at war with your past, wanting to move on but haunted by your memories?”

  Mr. Zhongli unfortunately knew the images you were seeing were, in fact, real events he had experienced in his life time and the truth was that lately he had been reminiscing on these events.  Mortal life is kind to humans for them to be blissfully unaware and carefree of these harsh realities, he internally commented.

  He still put your analysis into thought, though.

  “I am haunted, indeed.  I have been attempting to come to terms with my troubled past, just as you advised me only a few weeks ago.  I have tried to follow your guidance, and although they resurface what I have been trying to repress, I believe I am coming to peace with what happened.”

  You grinned.  “That is very good to hear, Mr. Zhongli.  I believe you are currently making good progress when it comes to moving on.  Just remember that it is okay to remember your sorrow.  Let your emotions pass through you instead of repressing them or rushing to move on.  It is okay to take your time and let the thoughts bubble inside of you for awhile.”

  He closed his eyes as you continued, letting your advice seep in.  You continued. “Imagine the stillness of the sea.  Many creatures and lost remnants take their place in the depths of the waters, but on the surface we see constantly moving yet serene waves wash over what is hidden below.  Your memories are there to stay, Mr. Zhongli.  But your present self, the surface of the water, can peacefully coexist with whatever is hiding deep within.  Let these thoughts weigh you down momentarily, but rest assured, you will find balance and acceptance in due time.”

  His eyes fluttered open as he reflected over your words.  You always seemed to know what to say.  “Your words have truly resonated with me, [Y/N].  And you are absolutely correct.  I have been fighting these memories to avoid the pain, but it had not dawned on me that sorrow is... what I am meant to feel, not push away.  I suppose your advice has put my mind at a bit more ease, and I suppose I am focusing too much on when I will be able to move on rather than allowing my thoughts to coexist for a moment.”

  “Now you’re getting it,” you grinned with the relief that washed over his face.

  “Shall we move on?” he offered.

  You got to work on the last segment of the reading.  If manifesting the other images didn’t take long enough, reading one’s future always took the longest.  Interpreting an event that hasn’t happened yet always made you a bit nervous with your words.  You never wanted to let a client down with an inaccurate reading.

  On the contrary, this reading, despite taking quite awhile to appear on the surface on the table, was very clear.

  “That is undoubtedly an image of me,” your eyes glazed over the facial features of the person in the manifestation.  “I apologize for the delay, Mr. Zhongli, I must have accidentally let my thoughts seep into yours–“

  “Do not fret, I believe this is accurate,” he interrupted.  “Keep going.”

  Your perplexed expression remained as you continued the reading.  “I am admittedly stumped.  There is nothing left in this image.  I suppose it is simply me standing in what looks like some ruins.  I am holding a staff, or some kind of long object.”  You paused to think out loud.  “Why am I in your reading?  What could this possibly mean?”

  Mr. Zhongli chuckled as you thought out loud.  “Perhaps this is a good time to tell you why you are in my thoughts.”

  “I’d love to hear it, I have never appeared in someone’s reading in my last decade and a half of experience.  This is quite unique.”

  He folded his hands in his lap, “For some reason, I have had this strange vision of training you.  I’m not sure why, since you don’t seem like the fighting type, but there is some voice inside me that is telling me you are destined for something great and i need to take some part in it.  What do you think, now that you see this vision as well?”

  Your eyebrows rose in shock.  “Training me?  I guess this does relate to something I have been pondering as of late.  I do not want to lay out my troubles on you though, my job is to interpret your life, not mine.”

  “Our lives have clearly intertwined in this vision,” he insisted, “Please do not hold back for my sake. I have the time.”

  You thought for a moment.  How could you form the words without seeming too selfish? How could you maintain professionalism by talking about your personal problems?

  “I am not the fighting type, Mr. Zhongli.  Though, lately I have been quite depressed about the fact that I am not doing as much with my vision as other vision holders are.  My life is uninteresting.  The truth is that I am a simple fortune teller that plays with rocks.  I hope you can understand why I am failing to interpret this reading,” you apologized. “It’s because this doesn’t seem characteristic of me at all.  And with all due respect, after giving you readings for years, I would have never guessed you were versed in combat to train me!”

  He chuckled.  “I respectfully disagree.  To tell you the truth, your talents surpass the abilities of many other vision holders.  Not everyone can read thoughts or tell the future.  Now that I mention it, I know of one talented astrologist in Mondstadt, but think about that.  You are one in hundreds of thousands in Teyvat,” he reassured.  “You did not receive your vision for no reason and I truly believe you are destined for something big.  I regret not being able to realize this before.”

  “How are you so sure of this?  I would love to believe you, but I’m afraid I am not destined for much, really.  Again, I am simply a fortune teller.  What could I possibly do for Liyue other than read some rocks?”

  He sighed and connected his palms with yours, interrupting the reading and wiping the manifestation off the table.  The hovering crystals dropped onto the surface, making you gasp at the sudden sound.

  “I am not who you think I am,” his amber eyes finally met yours for the first time this evening, which sent a chill down your spine.  “Promise me you will not fret, for what I am about to show you may shock you.”

  “What do you mean?  What are you doing, Mr. Zhongli?” you slightly panicked as he firmly grasped your hands.

  Suddenly, the room was engulfed in golden light that emitted from the seat across from you.  Scattered, distorted images of a mystical dragon, a devastating war, and seven seats in Celestia flashed across your eyes as you stared at the beams of light.  Death seemed to swallow you, but not take you.  The baskets of crystals around the room shook with the surge of energy.  The world seemed to destroy itself then remake itself over and over again within fleeting moments.  These thousands of years of memories made your body tremble.  It all happened within fleeting moments, and after a few seconds of your senses being overwhelmed, you finally pulled yourself together and connected the dots.

  His expanded knowledge of Liyue’s history.  The sudden gift of your vision immediately after your aunt passed.  Grieving his losses and having flooded thoughts of war and death.  Offering combat training.  Remembering your favorites the same way he would remember Liyue’s customs and traditions.  His glowing amber eyes alone.

  Mr. Zhongli was the God of Contracts and overseer of Liyue.  Rex Lapis, a being that lived for millennia, sat in the seat across from you. He had been posing as a mere mortal for years, taking readings as if he were any normal customer. The realization shook you to your core as you sat there bewildered, grateful, and horrified at the same time.

  He let go of your hands after seeing that the information successfully processed in your mind.  He saw something in you that was yet to be awakened, where the sky was the limit under your own expectations.  This daydream of his was no simple vision – it was a calling.  Internally, whether you agreed to it or not, he vowed that he would not leave your life until your true destiny was fulfilled.

  He would see this vow fulfilled by offering you a contract that would change the course of your life forever.

[banditthewriter]

Intensity - Loki

Here we have a Loki fic. That came out of nowhere, I’ve only ever written drabbles for him. It’s not long but hopefully it’s not bad?

Enjoy!

*gif not mine*

*****

Unlike most people, the mutant gene didn’t show up when you were a kid. You could be grateful for that at least. Because of that little grace, your childhood had been completely normal. No worries, no fears, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then you started to notice changes.

People seemed calm around you for the most part. If your emotions were out of control, you realized that others would be that way too. It took a while to understand that it was more than just the environment, more than just coincidence.

It took a disaster.

It was a fight with your dad when you were a teen. You didn’t even remember what it was about, what caused the issue, but you were angry enough that you were told to go to your room. Your mom had come in to sit with you for a while to try to calm you down.

The next thing you know, she went into the living room and tried to attach your dad with a butcher knife. He was okay but he did have to get sixteen stitches. And your mom was traumatized, not understanding why she tried to kill the man she loved.

That’s what had them put it all together. The little things they’d noticed but had brushed off had come out in a big way.

You could influence other people’s emotions. Oddly enough, anger was easier than the nicer emotions, but you’d had a pretty laid back life so you didn’t feel anger a lot. 

Maybe that’s why it was so potent when you did feel it.

Emotion manipulation could be dangerous without proper training so in college, after a few years of trying to pretend you were normal, you left to find someone to train you. Therapists, doctors, military people all tried their hand to get you trained. All of them had the same thing to say.

You were undisciplined at best. At worst? You’d never be able to be completely in control. 

Over the years it became harder and harder to keep in contact with people, including your family. It wasn’t like you could have an actual relationship that way. You could never be sure if you were influencing someone’s emotions, even when you tried to get control of your powers.

The military had a bracelet that worked for other mental powers. It didn’t work flawlessly, but it helped. It dampened your emotional field so that it took touch to influence someone for the most part. That and a steady regime of keeping calm, you got a better grasp on it.

Better didn’t mean perfect though. You still sometimes affected people when you didn’t mean to. You still hated it when you did it.

One of the things you did learn while working with various therapists was that there was more to your power than just emotion manipulation. To a lesser degree, you could read emotions on people. It didn’t work as well when you had the bracelet on, dampened that power as well, but sometimes...sometimes you could catch bits and pieces off of the people closest to you.

While you traveled from military base to military base to try to figure out a way to work on your powers, you didn’t expect to get a call from the Avengers. 

Well. It was less of a call and more of Iron Man dropping down in front of you and one of the generals so that he could offer you a place to stay at his tower.

“How’d you hear about me?”

Although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew that Iron Man—Tony Stark, it was Tony Stark in front of you—was looking at you.

“Fury. He has a way of getting information on lost souls that need a little help. What do you say? Wanna be a part time Avenger? Use your mojo to make some people really docile so that we don’t have to keep wrecking New York City every time some supervillain decides to stop by?”

You shifted a bit and looked at the general beside you. He just shrugged.

You weren’t a prisoner of the military. It had been very evident that you were there voluntarily. It was up to you.

“I’m working on a better dampener for mental powers. Maybe I can make one that’s specific to your power and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

And just like that, you didn’t need to hear anything else.

------

The tower is bigger than you thought it would be. Which is a good thing. Especially when you realized it’s not just the Avengers that frequent the tower but other members of Shield.

“This area is all yours,” Mr Stark says as he shows you to your room. Suite. Apartment. “The walls are made from the same dampening material as your bracelet so it’ll contain your powers.”

“My powers aren’t that powerful,” you said softly as you touched the bracelet in question. “Thank you Mr Stark. I...I want to help people but I am scared of what my powers might do. I want to protect people from me.”

He turned to look at you and dropped some of that rich man bravado he’d been sporting since he escorted you onto his private jet.

“You don’t have to be scared of yourself here. I promise.”

That’s not the last time you see him either. He explains that you should call him Tony and although it’s weird at first, you do.

“Tony, aren’t you scared I’ll influence you?”

He looked up from where he was typing on a tablet, his feet up on the table in your kitchenette.

“Pretty sure you do,” he said casually as he looked back down at the tablet. “It’s only ever small things though. Calm sometimes, tired sometimes. Hungry that one, that’s why I ordered pizza.”

You felt your heart start to beat fast at the thought of you accidentally influencing him, but he must have caught on to that. 

“Anxiety and I are old friends,” he explained as he put the tablet down and crossed over to you. “I’m not worried about it. Your influence doesn’t last if I’m not around you so once I leave, I’m back to myself. But honestly? Your influences are a lot simpler than some of the things I’ve felt.”

You thought about everything you knew about Iron Man and the Avengers and decided, yeah, he was probably right. Anything you could make him feel would be pretty tame compared to flying a nuclear warhead into a wormhole without knowing if you were coming back.

------

The first time you meet Natasha Romanoff, you spill orange juice on your shirt. She just smirked and grabbed a napkin to hold out to you.

It was the first time you’d let yourself out of your rooms. The new bracelet was supposed to be more effective, but Tony said he wouldn’t know if he was on the right track until you let yourself be around people. 

People meaning Shield agents. You didn’t expect to be face to face with Black Widow.

Her grin wavered for a second before it came back even brighter.

“You have better control than I thought you’d have,” she admitted as she leaned against a nearby table. “Stark said this new bracelet would still let you influence, but you stopped it pretty quick.”

“I didn’t even realize what I was doing,” you confided as you gripped your half full glass of orange juice. “I just want to hold it all in when I’m around people.”

Natasha tapped her fingers on the table before she crossed over towards the door.

“It’s not good to hold it in. You might end up like a grenade without a pin.”

With that helpful piece of advice, she left. 

Later, in Tony’s lab rather than your room, you told him what she said. He nodded as he made a few adjustments.

“She’s got the right idea at least. You stretch your wings with it every now and then, that’s one thing. You don’t work it at all and the muscle will atrophy. Who knows what a gift like yours can do if it degrades and you don’t have control over it?”

It took a while to come up with a plan. A few Shield agents, volunteers specifically, would work with you and let you influence them. Under supervision in case you lost control. 

It was a step. You just wish you knew if it was in the right direction or not.

------

“This is Thor and that’s his...brother Loki. Don’t worry, he’s on his best behavior these days.”

You nearly swallowed your spit when you turned around and sure enough, you were faced with Tony, Thor, and Loki. This was somehow your life but you hadn’t really figured it out yet. You were a few feet away from literal Gods.

Thankfully Tony couldn’t read your thoughts because he’d think you lumped him in with that group. 

“Uh, hi,” you said as you introduced yourself.

“Ah, another Avenger? Welcome.”

You smiled at Thor and shook your head, but Tony moved over and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“Definitely an Avenger, just with training wheels. Probationary,” he explained at Thor’s uncertain look. “We’re working on the kinks.”

You wanted to elbow Tony to get him off of you, especially as you could feel your heart start to race in your chest. This was nerves, anxiety building into a spike in your chest. Only Tony didn’t seem to react. He usually would at least look at you if he felt you influencing him.

And he didn’t seem to feel anxious or nervous in the least. Neither did Thor who was talking to Tony about...something about a bridge, you weren’t sure.

But Loki. You hadn’t paid much attention to him after the initial greeting, but you met his gaze now. He was staring straight at you, an intrigued look on his face as he watched you. 

Tony and Thor might not have noticed your influence, but it seems Loki had. Great.

“I should get back to the lab,” you said as you stepped out from under Tony’s arm. “It was nice to meet you both. Bye.”

You heard Thor’s farewell at your back, but you could still feel Loki’s gaze on your as you turned the corner.

------

Any other time that you ran into Thor in the tower, he always put you at ease. Tony had explained your powers and how you were coming to grips with them. Thor asked questions about it, always careful to never put you on edge, but he didn’t seem concerned for himself.

“It would be hard for a human such as yourself to influence an Asgardian mind,” he said with a smile when you asked him about it.

That didn’t explain Loki then. Besides your first meeting, every time you were around the dark haired God you’d turned into a nervous, babbling mess. The look on his face was always intrigued, but it wasn’t cruel. It seemed almost clinical. 

Although you’d heard a lot about that particular God’s abilities. Maybe since he had some mind control abilities himself, he could feel it in you.

And didn’t that just put you on edge. You weren’t sure how you felt about having something in common with Loki, God of mischief. 

Although you weren’t entirely sure that was the only reason you felt nervous around Loki. Most people talked about how attractive the God of thunder is, with reason, but there was just something about the dark haired God that caught your attention.

So of course you would find yourself alone with the God in question while you waited for Tony. The Avengers were off Avenging and you didn’t like to be holed up while you waited for them.

You weren’t sure why you expected Loki to be off with them, but he wasn’t. He was in a chair in the room, a book on his lap that he flicked through lazily. When you walked in, his eyes lifted up and met yours.

There was a challenge in his gaze. Normally you’d make an excuse and turn to leave. He was challenging you to see if you’d do it now that there weren’t other people around.

Instead you crossed over and went to the kitchen area.

“Is it because of my past misdeeds? Is that why you’re nervous around me?”

You hadn’t heard him speak before right then, but his voice fit him. You tapped your fingers against the fridge door that you had pulled open even though you weren’t hungry. 

“I’ve heard a few stories about you, sure. But you’re a God. It’s...intimidating.”

You heard the chair creak. When you looked over your shoulder, he had stood up and crossed a few feet to be closer.

“Regardless of my past, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Slowly you shut the fridge door and turn to face him completely. The look on his face made you believe him. But it was more than that. You could feel something from him, an emotion buried in the haze from your bracelet.

Honesty.

“Okay,” you whispered as you met his eyes. “I’ll...keep that in mind.”

------

The lower library wasn’t exactly your favorite, but it was usually empty. You walked through the first few aisles and froze when you saw that you weren’t alone.

“You come here to be alone,” Loki guessed as he looked around the room. “It’s one of the few places that’s technically public but usually void of people.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and nodded.

“I’m supposed to be in public for a few hours each day but sometimes it gets to be a bit too much. So I come here.”

He nodded as if he understood that. Then he turned to face you head on. 

“How powerful are you?”

You almost laughed at that, but held it in.

“I’m not powerful, I’m untrained. Dangerous,” you added as you looked away from him.

One of the Shield agents had to be sedated when you’d made her feel too many things at once on accident. You weren’t sure how she was doing. 

Tony was still calibrating the new bracelet, but you wore it anyways. You just hoped...hoped it was enough. 

“I can help you. I’m skilled with mind control of stronger beings than humans.”

You fingered the bracelet you wore and thought about the Shield agent, your parents, all the people you’d influenced over the years that had bad results.

“I’ll think about it,” you said softly. Then you sighed. “I should go back to the lab. Tony will be looking for me.”

“Ah, yes, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

You smiled and looked away. You weren’t sure you could handle for Loki to pick up on how charmed you were by him just then.

You really needed to get better at keeping your feelings a secret.

------

The lab was in disarray. You stumbled from where you’d fallen, the debris mostly away from you.

Even in his panic, Tony hadn’t hurt you. He’d flung himself as far away as he could, kept his robots from hurting you, but he’d nearly destroyed his lab in the process.

“Tony?”

It was quiet for a moment but then you heard a rasping breath. You climbed over a fallen stool and went to your knees next to where he was crumpled on the floor.

“Tony, are you...what can I do?”

He let out a gasp, his eyes on your face for a moment before they slammed shut tight.

“JARVIS, get Pepper,” you called out, unsure of what else to do. 

The mechanical voice said it would be a moment and then said that Miss Potts was on her way down. You slumped on the floor next to Tony, careful not to touch him.

Your anxiety about this test, about how long it had been since there had been any progress, had bled over to Tony. Only it was heightened somehow, the anxiety and worry causing a full blown flashback for him. You’d caught glimpses of it, almost-images of the wormhole and falling through the air.

It’s why you asked for Pepper. He hadn’t been able to talk to her before...before.

When she came in, she gave you an understanding look before she went to his side. Since he was being cared for, you got up and stumbled away from them. Your bracelet was still on the receiver so you grabbed it and hooked it on, grateful for the dullness you felt afterwards.

Then you left the lab. All you wanted to do was go to your rooms, to bury yourself under your blankets and wish it all away, but instead you headed in a different direction.

The room that Loki had been given was in the same hall as Thor, but you thought Thor was away on a mission with Steve and Sam. Loki’s door was shut, but when you raised your hand to knock, it came open.

“I need help.”

Loki came from across the room in a hurry, probably thinking you meant you were being chased. When he was sure the issue was less immediate, he nodded and met your eyes.

What he saw there made him let out a breath. He reached for you, slow so that you wouldn’t pull away. He unhooked the bracelet and set it to the side.

“This might be a bit uncomfortable,” he said softly as he raised his hands to your forehead.

In an instant you were no longer in the tower, no longer in New York. You were in your childhood bedroom, your mom helping you make your bed while your dad laughs at the two of you. It was such a distant memory, something you had forgotten.

As more and more of those happy memories come to the surface, you sense something from Loki. A bitter tang on your tongue. 

He had hoped that your childhood would have been like his. He had seen you and imagined that you’d been set apart as well. To see a loving, happy childhood had almost been a disappointment for him.

That faded away as the next memory appeared. He watched from your own eyes as your mother, in a rage not of her own, tried to kill your father. He sees your best friend yelling that she can’t trust you, teachers telling you that you can’t come to class, job and job firing you after only days.

He sees relationship after relationship burn hot and bright at first and then the horror sets in, the worry that they didn’t want you like you wanted them, the anger from them, the apathy. You felt it all in spirals, in such quick succession that embarrassment started to well up inside you.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he promised as he continued to dig inside your memories. “You’re not there. They don’t matter.”

There’s something like a tug and then suddenly, like a dam breaking, you're overwhelmed with emotions. They seem to come from every direction like the room is crowded.

You open your mouth to say his name, to ask him for help, but instead there’s nothing but darkness as you give in to the pain.

------

The medical wing is new to you. When you sit up, there’s a hand on your shoulder to help you ease up the rest of the way.

“It’s been two days,” Natasha says in a tone you can’t quite read. “Thought we were going to have to take turns kissing you, Snow White.”

“Thanks for…not doing that,” you said as you reached up to rub at your forehead.

Loki. You had been in his room, he was in your mind. He was trying to help you, going through your memories. There had been...oh the emotions you’d felt before you’d passed out.

“Where’s Loki?”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just reached out to grab a cup of water from next to your bed. As she held it out to you, you pushed it away.

“Natasha, where’s Loki? Tell me.”

She sighed and put the cup down.

“Steve and Thor had him put into a holding cell for attacking you.”

You were shaking your head before she even finished.

“He didn’t though!”

A tablet was on the table. After a brief hesitation she grabbed it and navigated through a few things.

“Watch this and tell me he didn’t attack you.”

You watched the recording from his room. The two of you were in front of each other, his hands on your head. There didn’t seem to be anything at first but then you saw what looked like a surge of magic go from his hands to your head.

You shook your head as you rewound it and watched the same spot.

“I need to see him,” you said when you finally looked up at her. “Now, Natasha.”

Although she obviously didn’t want to let you, she gave you a nod. You were already in sweats for comfort while you were unconscious, so you just slid on some too big slippers and let her lead the way to the holding cells. 

Steve immediately raises his hands once you enter the hallway.

“What the hell Romanoff, I said–”

“Yeah, when’s the last time I listened to you,” Natasha snarked with a smirk. Then she gestured at you. “She wants to talk to him.”

Steve was just about to say no, but Thor came from down the hall with a frown.

“I think she should. I know what we saw, but we don’t understand it. It’s possible the only one that can understand it is her. Besides,” he added with a sly look in your direction, “Loki is on his best behavior when she’s around.”

You didn’t know how to take that, but thankfully it seemed to persuade Steve. He told you he’d buzz you into the cell once you were there. They had a camera so they’d see and hear everything and, if you needed it, could come and save you.

You really didn’t think you’d need it.

In the cell, Loki seemed different. He ignored you when you came in, just threw a ball against the wall and caught it over and over again.

You wished you could use your powers to read Asgardians as well as humans, but...wait.

There was nothing. From Natasha, from Steve, from the nurse who had released you. Usually you felt something, a low hum of their emotions, but there was nothing.

“The force of it was too much for you, but it’ll come back.” He caught the ball and let it rest beside him on the bench. “You felt too many emotions at once. Your mind was adapting to having mine in there when it happened and it overloaded.”

You nodded and sat down beside him, a few feet away just so that Steve wouldn’t bust in. You really didn’t need observers with this, but you knew you didn’t have a choice.

“It felt so weird. It was like I could feel the emotions of everyone in the tower at once.”

Loki looked over at you in surprise.

“In the tower? That was everyone in the city at once.” At your surprised look, he offered a smile. “I knew you were powerful when we first met, I just didn’t realize how powerful.”

You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“Holy shit,” you breathed with another laugh. “No wonder I’ve been asleep for two days.”

And here you thought you couldn’t really surprise the God of mischief more than you already had.

“Two days? So that’s...why you haven’t come to set the record straight.”

Oh. Had he thought that you believed the story that he’d attacked you? Or did he just think that you were letting him suffer?

“Just woke up. Saw the video, heard you were down here, came to rescue you.”

He laughed at that, a sound that both surprised and pleased you.

“How do you feel?”

You thought about it. The emptiness in your head was blissful. So was the fact that you didn’t need to worry about making people feel your emotions.

“I hope it never comes back.”

His hand closed around yours and, with a gentle tug, he pulled you a little closer to him.

“You shouldn’t hope for that. The gifts you have don’t have to be a burden. You can learn to control them, learn to use them.” He smiled at you, his eyes locked on yours. “I said I knew you were powerful and I meant it. I could feel it in you.”

You rubbed a hand over your wrist where your bracelet usually sat.

“Maybe I should be the one in the holding cell.”

Loki’s face became more serious as he looked you over.

“It could happen one day.”

The memory of Tony curled up on his side after your influence made you think about what had happened in Loki’s room. Your mind had reached the entirety of the city. If you could push your influence that far…

“I have to…”

You didn’t bother saying more, just tore from the room in a rush. Steve was outside and he nodded when he met your eyes.

“We saw. We believe you. We’ll let him out.”

You nodded because that was good, but that wasn’t the only thing on your mind.

You needed to talk to Tony.

------

“You sure you don’t feel anything?” At your baleful look, Tony shrugged and looked back at the scan. “Your brain is unusually active.”

“I’ll try not to be offended,” you said with a laugh. 

Tony crossed over to where you sat. He looked good for a man who just a few days ago had been basically curled up under his table in a panic. And he had forgiven you for that.

“Make me feel something. Something small, please,” he added with a grin.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a moment before you nodded. Then you focused on Tony and a new feeling.

“God I could eat a cheeseburger,” he commented as his hand went to his stomach. “Wait. Was that it? Was that you?”

You started to smile but then you focused on him some more. There was surprise, under the surface, but you had to actually look for it. It didn’t come out of nowhere.

“I have control?”

Tony clapped his hands together. Then he reached out for your bracelet and tossed it into the trash can.

“It was a prototype anyways. We’ll get one together just in case, but I think we can say you’re off the bench for now.”

You laughed and tossed your arms around his neck.

“Thank you Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah, now let’s get something to eat. Seriously, I’m starving.”

------

A few days after his release, you found Loki in the library. He looked up as you entered as if he knew it was you.

Maybe he did.

“Thank you. Because of what you did, I have control now.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “Thor said you’ll be going on a mission with them soon to celebrate.”

Yeah, you’d heard that as well. It was exciting, if a little daunting.

“It might do you some good to continue to train with me, if you wish. To perfect your talents.”

You smiled. Then you moved over to sit beside him. Now that you had control, you let your mind open to try to read him.

Silence. You frowned and tried again.

“Because of my powers, I can protect myself,” he said with a tap of his fingers to his temple, a grin on his lips. “I do appreciate the effort though.”

You laughed and looked down at your hands. Nervousness settled over you.

“I just thought if I could read your emotions, I could know if…”

If he was interested in you. If your feelings had influenced him at all.

“You could never influence me, I promise.”

You opened your mouth to ask how he knew that’s what you were thinking, but then you remembered. He’d been in your head. Besides seeing just how horrifically all of your past relationships had ended, he would have felt how you felt about him.

He was putting you at ease. Your nerves started to rise and either he could tell, or he just knew you that well already.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You met his eyes and smiled, a little breathless as you thought about the possibilities. 

“Not uncomfortable. Just...nervous.”

He leaned in towards you, his grin nearly blinding until his lips met yours. 

You didn’t need to be nervous anymore.

X

Thanks for reading!

[magpie-scribbles]

Ahhh I’m bit late but here is my part of the BNHarem ~*Collab*~

Title: Call Me

Pairing: F!reader X Maijima Higari (Power Loader)

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Smut, sex work, older man younger woman 

Higari sighs, his metal tipped fingers tapping on his work table 11pm, 11 pm and he still had so much to do. Normally he relished having work to do, rather being a busy bee than not, but lately the stress had been catching up to him. The academic year was in full swing, and with more villain activity than usual he was beginning to wear...A lot of his projects (pet projects) were starting to fall behind because frankly he was too stressed and found himself getting upset with himself when he made mistakes or miscalculations, which seemed to be happening a lot in his overall raised tension.

Realizing he wasn't going to make any progress aside from going in circles. He slumps, plunking down onto the stool next him, thumping his head against the metal of the workbench and just...sitting there allowing himself to cool off...or perhaps it was wallow…

Bzzzzz bzzzzzzz he feels it as much as he hears it as an incoming text reverberates through his skull. He tilts his head, just enough to glare at his cellphone on the far end of the workbench; he could ignore it, he could...but he doesn't. With a groan he sits up leaning over to swipe the phone up to see the notification.

Oh...Nemuri.

"Heeeyyyyy, how you doing???" She follows up with a few heart emoji.

To someone on the outside looking in it might seem like she’s flirting, or that they had something going on. But he and Nemuri had been good friends for so long that he doubts he could ever see her as anything but.

"Fine" He types out simply, not in the mood for banter, he hopes she's not putting together a last minute bar hop.

"Ooooo"

"That rough huh?" 

"Stressed?"

The texts come in rapid succession. He sighs.

"I'm fine" He repeats; though it's nice to have someone that worries about you from time to time.

It takes her a moment to respond, he can see the little typing indicator, bounce along the bottom off his screen and then stop and then start again.

"Did you call her yet?? 👀👀👀" Her response finally comes and he groans.

He had a feeling she was going to bring this up sooner or later.

"No I haven't called her yet" He replies, grumbling to himself as he hits send harder than he needs to.

"You should, she could really help you relax 😌" He can practically hear he voice through the illuminated text on his screen, goading him.

He can feel his face heat up, he wasn't a prude...this was just...he wasn't a prude!

"Kayama" now beginning to wish he never picked up the phone.

"It's not just about sex Maijima, where's your head??😏😏😏" now she was just being cruel, he shakes his phone in his gripe blowing out a puff of air, wishing he could berate her.

"In all seriousness tho, she can help you out, it's her job, she's really nice!" She adds.

He sighs, deflating a bit, mulling over the idea for a while...he thinks he still has the card Nemuri gave him. 

Reaching into the front pocket of his jeans he pulls out a crinkled card, oh, yeah he had definitely washed these pants a few times. Luckily the card had been printed on heavy sleek looking cardstock. And even with the edges slightly worn and the the paper somewhat crinkled, no expenses were obviously spared as the elegant type face remained readable even after a few trips through the wash...which was good for him because if it hadn't then he'd have to ask Nemuri for the details and that's something he would not want to live through. 

He sighs, looking from the card to his phone, weighing his options...he was very stressed and Nemuri said it didn't have to be about sex...not that he didn't like that! ...Damnit…

Suckling on his teeth he slowly punches in the number printed in embossed gold.

___________

You settle down into the pillows and blankets of your freshly laundered bed, wondering if you even want to try and read the next chapter in your book that sat on your nightstand. The sheets were still warm from the dryer and damn, it was tempting to just nestle in and go straight to bed.

BBBZZZZ BBBZZZ

Your brow furrows, the sudden sound brings you out of your very important and very difficult decision. For a moment the sound eludes you as you listen for it again.

BBBZZZZ BBBZZZ

Oh fuck that was your phone, your head whips to the nightstand again; the illuminated screen blocked by the book you had just been considering as the device vibrates beneath it.

You grumble, you know it could be a client but most of them had the decency to not call this late…well most of them did. 

Grabbing your phone you gaze down to the screen, cocking your head when you see a string of numbers you've never seen before, hmmm.

Reclining back into the comfort of your pillow pile you answer.

"Hello this is L/N F/N speaking." You say, all business; not one to ever come off as unprofessional even if it was a spam call.

There was a long pause; you almost repeat yourself when you hear someone clear their throat.

"Miss L/N, this is Maijima Higari....uhhh, Kayama Nemuri said I should contact you." His voice is soft baritone with a bit of gravel to it, he seems very uncertain, but you know who he is right away.

To be honest you had been quite curious about him since Nemuri had told you about her fellow hero and coworker.

You worked a lot with heroes, some high profile ones too, but you've never had a client that was also a support specialist, or as Nemuri had put it, a keen inventor. You were intrigued.

"Ah Mr. Maijima, Kayama mentioned you-" you begin.

"She did?" He interrupts and you can hear him shifting away from the phone "motherfucker"  you hear the breathy hiss, and you have to keep yourself under control because you did not want your first conversation with the man you had been interested in hearing from, to be you laughing at him.

He must have realized you can hear him because there's more scrambling on the other end of the line.

"Sorry 'bout that...Nemuri...likes to talk." He sighs.

You chuckle warmly; she had mentioned he was somewhat proud and what she called "aggressively" shy.

"She definitely can be quite the gossip." You reply and you hear him groan. "Though I assure you, it's all good things Mr. Maijima."

"Somehow that doesn't put me at ease at all…" he huffs, and you can't help but let out a small laugh.

There is a pause again, and you decide to gently encourage him.

"So what can I do for you Mr. Maijima?" You ask gently.

There's shifting on the other end of the line again and then a small cough.

"I've...I've been stressed lately, like...more than usual and Kayama said that you might be able to help with that." You can tell he's a bit uncertain on how to ask for your services.

"Of course, I'd be more than happy to help, just tell me what you need and I'll set up an appointment. " You recline further into your pillows.

"Uh well...fuck I've never done this before…" he sighs.

"That's perfectly alright." You reply, waiting for him to continue.

"...I-I don't know?" He says finally and you smile, you like when they're honest; not trying to show-off.

"Of course, we can figure everything out along the way." You hum and you hear him sigh in relief.

"Alright, yeah." 

"How about I put you in for this Friday at 8pm, I'll make sure that we have the whole night free to get you settled." You make a mental note to put that in your planner (not that you could forget, you were surprisingly eager to meet him.)

"Today's Wednesday." He says in reply.

"Yes?"

"So you mean in two days? The Friday in two days?" You suppress a chuckle; definitely needed to relieve some stress.

"If that's an issue I'd be happy to-"

"NO!...No it's fine, just surprised is all." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Sooooo so how do I do this?"

You pause for a moment considering. There are a few luxury hotels and venues you've preferred to use in the past...but...you decide to throw caution to the wind.

"Let me give you my address." You reply, a very rare option you give to only your most trusted clients; but he was good friends with Nemuri and you trusted her judgement whole heartedly.

"Oh!...are you sure you're okay with that? I understand if you don't want to do that, safety and all, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable" You smile, he was already quite the charmer even if he didn't know it yet.

"No need to worry, I wouldn't give it to you if I didn't want to." 

"Okay, if you're okay with it." He replies warily and you smile to yourself.

"I'll send you a follow up text with my address and a reminder of the time; is this an okay number to send that to?"

"Oh yeah, sure."

"Perfect, well Mr. Maijima, I'll let you go and I'll send you my info."

"Yeah, sure...uh thanks for this Miss L/N." He replies.

"It's my pleasure." You reply.

He gives you a quick goodbye and then the line goes quiet; chuckling to yourself you scoot down further into your blankets and quickly add Maijima Higari to your schedule. Before opening Maijima's number and adding it to your contact list.

Nemuri definitely seems to have good taste in friends (well you're one of them.) He has certainly caught your attention...in a good way.

_______

Higari groans, while body deflating as his muscles relax somewhat...that was one of the most nerve-racking calls he'd ever made.

God he probably sounded like an idiot. 

Huffing, he looks back at his phone and opens up his chat with Nemuri.

"I called her" he writes before getting up from his workbench with a groan, back popping as he stretches.

His phone buzzes a moment later.

“Maijime it’s like 11:30 at night!” Nemuri’s text reads; he pales and looks at the time on his phone. 

Fuck....now he felt like an ass. He goes to respond, not even sure if he should defend himself or brush it off when another text comes in from a new number. Cocking his head he swipes it open.

“Hello Mr. Maijime, it was a pleasure speaking with you tonight, I have you all booked for Friday at 8pm and I look forward to spending time with you.” he swallows thickly, reading over the message a few more times, taking note of the little hearts on the end.

“This is her job, this is her job, she’s just being nice…”  he mentally berates himself.

Reading over the message one more time he responds.

“Thank you Miss L/N.” he pauses and then adds “Sorry ‘bout calling you so late, lost track of the time.” he hits send before he can chicken out, and shoves his phone in his front pocket; out of sight out of mind 

It’s only a few seconds before he hears the buzz of his phone again and he scrabbles to get it, not even sure why he put it away in the first place.

“Nothing to worry about sweetie, I’ll see you Friday.”

Higari decides he needs a very cold shower and then promptly after needs to put himself to bed...he’d deal with Nemuri tomorrow.

_______

You decide against the silk robe after some debate, donning luxurious Egyptian cotton instead. You'd rather not scare him off or look too presumptuous, after all he might be satisfied with your other talents, though Nemuri had said he could do with a good Fuck. You had of course laughed at her crassness, but you couldn't help but feel a spark of warmth in your belly, it surprised you, it had been awhile since you had, let alone for a potential client. 

You needed to be professional.

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror you found your attire agreeable. Your robe was a little longer than the ones you usually wore for your clients, coming to brush against your knees. But it was your favorite, plush and warm and while a bit promiscuous it was also classic. 

Your hair and makeup was in place and you gazed down to your phone

7:45pm

You hadn't received and cancelation call or text so at this point all you could do was wait.

Padding through your apartment on your way to the lounge you make a few quick mental notes.

Did you have both red and white wine as well as a few stiffer drinks just in case ready? Check.

Bottled water on ice as well and had you tea kettle ready with an assortment of teas just in case? Check and check

A few hors d'oeuvres, nothing too over the top? Check.

You come to settle on your favorite chaise as you finish your little check off; yes you believe you had everything ready…

Your intercom pings, and you quickly get to your feet and shuffle over, pressing the talk button.

"Yes?"

"Miss L/N, there is a Mr. Maijima here to see you." The doorman's voice responds.

"Yes of course please have him come up." 

"Of course ma'am."

To be honest no matter how long you had done this you could never quite figure out what to do with yourself while you wanted for a client to come up to meet you. Nothing ever seemed natural or smooth... it irked you. You wondered what other consorts did, maybe you should ask a few of your colleagues next time you go out for drinks-

There's a firm knock on your door, jarring you out of your thoughts. 

Giving yourself a quick once over you, smooth down your robe and slap on a warm smile before opening the door.

"Mr. Maijima, I'm so glad you came." You move out of the way, opening the door further to allow him in.

"Uh thanks, yeah me too." He lets out a nervous laugh as he shuffles inside. 

He was quite charming. Nemuri had shown you pictures but pictures can never do enough justice to some people. 

He was dressed in a bomber jacket, dark pull over and well worn jeans and boots. He looked comfortable, the perfect amount of dressed down; he looked like himself, not trying to put on airs like some of your clients. 

"Let me take your jacket while you get your shoes." You say warmly and he gingerly shrugs out of the fabric.

"Thanks." He replies as he leans down to untie his boots.

"Nice place you have here." He replies as he looks around from his lowered position. 

"Oh thank you!" You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you look around your place fondly. "The main foyer is a bit much though." You add with a chuckle thinking to the decadence of the building's main entrance.

"Was pretty swanky." He replies nearly finished with his second boot.

"I assure you I'm much more down to earth." You reply and he perks up at that, you eye him curiously.

"Hehe, earth." He laughs and it takes you a moment to remember he's the Excavation hero and you let out a laugh, surprised by his humor.

"I wouldn’t have guessed you'd also be a man with a good taste in jokes." You reply and extend you hand out to him as he tucks his boots away. You have always been a fan of so-called bad jokes.

He seems to like that and puffs up with a smile, slipping his large hand into yours. Oh it was warm and rough; Nemuri did say he was good with his hands. 

"How about we settle in." You say nodding your head towards the lounge.

He nods and swallows thickly, still visibly unsure, but obviously not willing to back down.

You smile at him and gently lead him out of the entryway. 

As you lead him further into your apartment you had taken note that while he was untying his boots he could have very easily looked up your robe, but instead all of his attention was on you, his sharp grey eyes peeking out from a thick fringe of fiery hair. He was watching and listening to you not ogling you, it made your heart warm.

Yes, you had decided that he was certainly a catch.

You lead him into the lounge motioning for him to sit anywhere and he takes his place in one of the plush armchairs across from you chaise. You wish he would have opted for a closer seat but you want him to be comfortable first and foremost.

"Can I get you anything? Wine? Something stronger? Water, tea?" You ask.

"Uh water's fine right now, thanks." He replies and you crack open one of the water bottles and pour it into a crystal tumbler.

You hand it to him and leave the water bottle close to him on the coffee table.

"Thank you L/N." He replies and takes a sip.

"Please call me F/N." You say as you settle on your chaise, he pauses for a moment, mouth full before swallowing

"F/N…" he parrots, voice surprisingly gravelly despite the water he just drank.

You smile and nod your head.

He fiddles with the empty glass in his hands before looking up at you with genuineness; your heart flutters and you’re once again surprised by your feelings.

"Call me Higari."

_______

Higari slowly begins to relax as you talk, his posture loosening and his voice becoming less tense and formal. When he finally laughs fully at one of your jokes, you feel warmth wash over you in a pleasant wave of contentment. 

Despite his obvious relaxation you can’t help but notice he shifts every so often, adjusting his back or subtly rolling his neck. Small ques that make you realize that he wasn't only mentally stressed but physically as well. 

"Higari." You catch his attention as he excitedly tells you about a project he's working on. "Sorry to interrupt but is your back bothering you?" You ask softy and he blinks at you in surprise.

"Oh sorry, that noticeable?" He chuckles. "'S probably from hunching over a workbench all day." He's trying to wave it off, not make you worry.

"Would you mind if I used my quirk on you?" You ask gently, not wanting him to feel pressured. 

"Uuhhh, you haven't already?" He looks a bit confused and you can't help but let out a hearty laugh.

"Of course not, I would never use my quirk without your permission." You smile and you watch as his cheeks turn ruddy with blush. "Might I ask what you thought my quirk was doing all this time?"

He leans back a bit huffing softly to himself, trying to control his embarrassment. 

"Make me relax I guess?" He mutters under his breath and you smile fondly, happy that he truly was relaxed around you.

"You’re sweet, while my quirk does help people relax, I wasn't using it on you." You reply sitting up and gently patting the space next to you on the chaise. " could I show you, I'll stop if you don't feel comfortable."

He observes you for a moment, mulling over the idea or trying to pump himself up you're not exactly sure; but then he slowly gets to his feet and walks over to you.

"Never done this before…" he says softly as he looks down at you, trying hard to be open and honest.

It's one of the sweetest things you've ever had happen with a client and you gently take his hands and pull him down to sit next to you.

"That's perfectly alright, whatever you are comfortable with, whatever you want Higari." You say gently and give his hands a reassuring squeeze.

He looks down, his hands are so large in yours; turning them over in his he brushes the metal tips of his thumbs against your palms reverently, and you swoon a little bit. 

"Show me you quirk." 

You feel pride well in your chest.

"I would love to." You smile before adjusting a bit. "Lay down on your stomach, there should be enough room for you to lay down fully." 

He complies, seemingly throwing caution to the wind, but you can see the tremble in his arms as he lowers himself to the plush cushion of the chaise.

"I'm going to sit on your thighs is that alright?" You question.

It takes him a moment to respond and when he does it's a breathy "yes" and you're glad he's facing away from you so he doesn't catch the shiver that runs up your spine at the tone of his voice.

Slowly you crawl up his body, careful to let him feel every move, to let him know your position until you are sitting comfortably on his muscled thighs, your legs tucked on either side of him. He lets out a shaky sigh as you reach out and run your hands from his shoulder blades down to the small of his back.

"My quirk works best with skin to skin contact, you are certainly welcome to leave your shirt on or remove it." You begin your typical overview of your quirk when he moves beneath you suddenly, almost setting you off balance as he reaches behind his head. Fisting the fabric at his back and rucking it up over his head, fluffing up his hair as he does before letting the article of clothing crumple to the floor.

You're too surprised to move from his sudden boldness as he settles back down, neatly crossing his arms beneath his chin. 

After a few moments you manage to pull yourself together and you slowly, gently lay your hands back on his now bare shoulder blades and oh! Beneath your palms he is trembling; now you desperately wanted to sooth his frayed nerves.

"My quirk allows me to admit frequency through my skin, that I can channel into vibrations." You tell him gently as you smooth down his back again, slowly activating your quirk.

He tenses for a moment and then begins to relax into your touch.

"It can help muscle relaxation and promote blood flow." You continue as you knead a knot along his lat. 

"It ah- sounds like your quirk is definitely a benefit." His voice is breathy, almost sighing as he falls further into your touch.

"I like to think so too." You say fondly, you were really starting to enjoy his company and his kindness. "You were talking about one of your inventions earlier when I interrupted, I would very much like to hear more about it." And it was the honest to God truth.

He hums in contentment and from his position on his folded arms you can see a genuine smile grace his lips.

He quickly eases back into his explanation and his ideas as you allow you quirk to sink into his skin while you massage his tense muscles. Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours, even if you didn't quite understand some of it; it was fascinating and his passion and enthusiasm was a pleasant warmth that enveloped you.

Slowly his muscles begin to ease up under your ministrations and his voice begins to get more husky and more lax. You’re not exactly sure when he stopped talking but you suddenly notice the silence and the absence of his pleasant voice.

"F/N?" You blink, gazing up from you hands, to find Higari staring lazily up at you through the fringe of his hair. His stare is hypnotizing

"Yes?" Your voice is breathier than you would have liked.

For a moment he doesn't say anything and then he shifts, starting to roll on his side and you gingerly move to sit beside him, you barely have anytime to take in his sudden change when his large hand comes up, fingers brushing against your jaw tentatively.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks softly and you definitely swoon, you hand coming up to press his touch closer.

"I would like that very much." You hum, your blood singing at the thought of his lips on yours.

Slowly he rises up and you can feel him moving against you and as he does you feel his lower half brush against your hip and the strangest combination of pride and desire fills your chest as you feel the hardness straining against his jeans.

Everything seems to still for a brief moment and then his nose brushes against yours and you suck in a shaking breath as his lips press against yours.

It's like firecrackers, zipping along you skin, you feel your toes curl and you lean into him. He groans against you and slings his arm around your shoulders pressing you to him, your chest flush with his bare one. 

You sigh against him and he takes a moment to adjust, tilting his head, teeth clacking against yours as he slots himself against you.

You feel as though you are made of feathers, your whole body alight as you kiss him back feverishly. It's been awhile since you felt this and you can't get enough.

Letting out a small whine you smooth your hands down his ribs bringing them around to rest on his lower stomach; you feel the muscles jump against your fingertips and then he trembles against you letting out a wonderfully gravelly moan that reverberates in his chest. 

Then he's slowly pulling you back with him, laying back down against the chaise, tugging you on top of him. He pauses moving away to catch his breath, a hand coming up to smooth over your hair. Your breath hitches as you take him in; he's beautiful… his cheeks stained with blush, his grey eyes gazing up at you half lidded and hazy, pupils blown so wide the irises are halos of near silver.

"Can we…? Is this okay?" He asks hesitantly and you have to stop yourself from squealing in delight.

"It's more than okay Higari, I would love to." And you mean every word of it. 

He groans, lips parting to wet them before he cups your face in his hands and pulls you back down into a fiery kiss.

It's almost feral the way you move against each other, palming and smoothing down every inch of skin that you can. He slowly pushes your robe from your shoulders, the belt the only thing keeping it from coming free completely, and he lets out a strangled sound when he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath.

You quickly grab one of his hands and press his large palm to your breast and he quakes beneath you as he begins to knead the soft flesh. You instantly melt into him, moaning and moving against him in your excitement, his metal tipped thumb coming to press against your pebbled nipple. 

He's wonderful beneath you, shedding his shyness as his lips move from yours, coming to place open mouthed kisses against your jaw and neck. 

Your hands continue to roam across the wonderfully compact muscles of his torso, fingers pausing to flick at his nipples before moving to dig into his sides before sliding down to rest on his belt buckle.

You pull away and he lets out a whine as you sit up, gazing down at him, watching as his chest heaves. You wet your lips, thumbing his buckle to get his attention and his gaze darts down to where your hands rest, just above the straining tent in his jeans. Slowly his gaze drags up your body and then…

"Please…" It's breathy and needy, and you can help but let out a small moan as you nod and get to work.

You quickly divest him of both his pants, boxers and socks, leaving him wonderfully naked and needy beneath you, and oh is he a sight to see. 

Taut muscles tensing against soft skin, a smattering of coppery hair on his chest that tapers down his belly to a thatch of curly short hairs framing his perfectly sized cock that now lays dribbling against his stomach.

"Oh Higari, you’re beautiful." You purr, running your hands down his chest.

"Got nothing on you…" he grunts arching into your touch, practically begging you to go lower.

"Such a charmer." You reply with your finger sliding teasingly over his weeping head.

He arches, pale column of his throat on display for you as he lets out a moan.

"Y-you're perfect." He husks and you feel your chest swell with pride.

You pull back for a moment, much to his displeasure, but that quickly changes as he realizes you're removing your robe.

You quickly take the condom out of your pocket before discarding the clothing to the floor in a heap. Laying the rubber next to your calf for easy access. 

Straightening up you perch on his upper thighs and then slowly move your hips.

"Can you feel me Higari?" You hush knowing full well you’re dripping all over him. "Can you feel how wet I am?"

He lets out a needy moan and his hands come to clamp down on your hips as he rolls his hip, cock thrusting up into the cool air of your apartment. 

"Please, please, F/N...please." His words are soft and airy and you absolutely live for them as you roll your hips again, hand smoothing down his aching length.

"Anything you want love." You hush him and grab the condom, he's already so far gone he doesn't even perk up at the sound of the foil tearing.

You need him to pay attention. Tapping his hip bone he slowly comes to focus on you.

"Watch me Higari." You say and you slowly roll the condom onto his straining length.

You want to absolutely pamper him as he makes small little hiccups as you smooth the rubber down him before gently grabbing his base, moving up onto your knees hovering just over him.

"Watch me Higari…" you repeat and he's enraptured as you slowly sink down onto him, bottoming out on him completely in one go.

"Ha-ah!" He arches hands pushing you impossibly closer as he thrusts up into you though there is no more room left to fill.

Oh he's perfect, filling you to the brim, stretching you deliciously as he becomes an unabashed mess beneath you.

You try to move, but his grip is bruising, abdominal muscles tensing as he tries to keep himself in control.

"Higari." You sooth and he looks up at you, lips parted and eyes holding so much adoration it nearly knocks you over.

He lets up his hold after a moment and you lean forward, placing your hands and his chest to steady yourself. You give him an affectionate stare before you rise up, keeping just the tip of him inside before swiftly curling your hips and spearing yourself on his length.

He practically howls and throws his head back, and oh you want to see more of this, want to see him come undone.

You begin a rhythmic deep pace, making sure to swallow him whole on each downward roll of your hips. Higari is already a mess beneath you, now completely out of his shell on full display. In the back of your mind you briefly think he could have been a porn star if he put his mind to it.

He pushes you out of your thoughts as he grips your hips once more and tries to aid you in your movement, you can't help bit smile.

"Relax Higari, this is about you, I'll take care of everything…" you breath and he swallows thickly.

"Wanna help." He slurs "ha! You're so good, soso good." 

"Next time." You're even a bit surprised by how sure there will be a next time and Higari seems to take note of that as well as you watch his gaze unfocus and refocus.

You continue your pace, though your thighs begin to ache, it's too delicious to even think about slowing down; the way your positioned has your clit rubbing against his pubic bone with each roll of your hips.

You can tell he's getting close, the way he trembles and the way he tries to jerk up ever so often out of sync with you. His gaze catches you and for a moment you feel like your drowning. It's then you feel the pad of his thumb press against your clit; you gasp and look down to watch his metal tipped finger swirl around your delicate bundle of nerves, cock disappearing lewdly inside of you with each roll of your hips.

"Gonna, cum, wan' you to cum with me." He husks, bringing your attention back to him and suddenly you're on the cusp, the precipice. 

"Oh, yes, yes...Higari." your head lolls as you allow him to help, his hips thrusting up to meet yours.

And then he's curling, body tensing as he lets out a breathless moan, mouth slack and eyes fluttering closed as he starts to cum. 

That's what pushes you over the edge, his debauched display. And as you tumble over the edge, stars bursting behind your eyes, and toes curling you briefly wished you could feel him pumping you full.

It takes you a moment to come down from your brief jaunt in paradise, sagging against him, panting. You feel his grip on your hip loosen and he brings his other hand to your thigh, thumb coming to sooth over your skin.

You sit in silence as he softens inside of you and you know you should get up and tidy up a bit, but you're basking in the afterglow and you can't find it in you to care that much.

Higari lets out a pleased sigh and he looks completely and utterly satiated and relaxed; it warms your heart.

The next words that come out of your mouth surprise you.

"Stay the night." You whisper almost shyly and it quickly catches his attention.

He cocks his head observing for a moment.

"Do most of your clients stay? I don't want to intrude."  

You honestly are afraid to answer because the answer is no, they don't, and you suddenly feel so raw and exposed it almost scares you.

He must pick up on your nervousness because he gently cups the side of your jaw, brushing some of your sweat damp hair away from your face.

"I'd love to." He says and you feel your heart soar as you nuzzle into his touch.

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Two: The Arrival

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Death of a parent, nosy neighbors, irritated feelings, lmk if I missed any

W/C: 3.2k

A/N: Welcome back! First of all, I want to thank each & every one of you that read & enjoyed the Ch.1! Your wonderful comments really set it in stone for me to continue this fic & I really hope I don't disappoint! Anyway, I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks of this one! I'm so nervous!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist Form

Chapter One || Chapter Three

~APRIL EIGHTEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

The days passed, the same as they always do, yet with no word on any boy or man willing to spare the help for the farm. You did your best to think rationally; the majority of the families around town were busy with their own affairs, their own shops and farms. It was only you and Pa, and while the majority of the townspeople were friendly, not a soul seemed to spare a second thought towards the two of you, outside of banding together for Ma’s funeral.

You were preparing to give up, once again, the hope that perhaps there was one – at the very least, one – man who would take pity on you and Pa. The more you reassessed the people of the town, the more it appeared they only ‘cared’ when it suited them, when whatever dilemma you and Pa were faced with was the opportunity for them to engage in hearsay.

Mrs. Williams, for example – although kind and respectful while you stood in front of her – immediately took it upon herself to, not only relay the information that help was needed to every man, woman, and child in town, but indefinitely began to spout words of pity regarding you and Pa. Of course, that got the whole of the town babbling about how awful, how unimaginable, it was to have to endure the tedious season by yourselves. Yet, no one desired to lift a pinky to help.

So, as you enter the town, you aren’t stunned when you hear whispers as you pass. It had been a brief few days prior that you had finally been overlooked, finally was not the cause of their speculations. And now, you grit your teeth with disdain and continue walking through, awaiting the moment you reach the haven of the shop and, hopefully, have a moment to collect your thoughts and set them in the icebox to cool.

One positive outcome of it, you gather, if you were to look on the other side of things, is that you have gained the ability to avert your ears from whatever nonsense the older women gossip about, not concerned so much of what they say, just that it was taking place at all.

However, as you make your way down the dirt road, you realize it isn’t just the typical gossip coming from the elderly ladies, and are even more shocked to learn that you are not the subject of the chatter. The whole town is seemingly buzzing like a hive of bumblebees, a hum carried through the air consisting of ‘Did you see him?’, ‘A visitor’, and ‘What a strange man’.

Even you acknowledge that it must be interesting news for the whole town to be churning with such fervor and animation over it. The town, collectively, has never been so excited about anything since the new sheriff was appointed and you find yourself turning your ears to the conversations to see if you hear anything of importance. Once you realize, though, that you're partaking in the exact avocation you so despise when it's directed toward you, the doors close inside your ears once again and you walk straight to the shop.

After you’ve had time to settle and display all the new wares, the bell rings and you hear behind you the whispers of the older ladies filling the atmosphere, conspiring against whatever – or, whomever – has attracted their attention so.

“Hello, dear!” One of them – Mrs. Foster, who is seen as the lead hen – yells out to you. You take a deep breath, summoning the companionable parts within you to the surface.

“Hello Mrs. Foster,” you greet while turning to face the group.

To her side, Mrs. McKenna and Mrs. Jones, along with her young daughter, Lucille. Lucille Jones must be the closest you have to an acquaintance in town, but her mother keeps her quiet and buried under her wing, grooming her to be exactly the respectable young lady that will surely attract a wealthy husband, therefore paying for luxuries his new mother-in-law would not be able to afford otherwise. That poor fool.

“Have you seen the latest traveler, dear?” Mrs. McKenna asks.

“I have not,” you reply simply. Tis the truth, after all, but something about this mysterious traveler, that has caused such an uproar, makes the curiosity seep into the lining of your veins. Though, you would not engage in their gossip just to find out more.

“He is most strange,” Mrs. Jones adds, answering a question you had not asked.

“To each his own,” you say, feeling the irritation at their simple minds grow in your belly.

Before another moment could be spared for this nonsense, you quickly distract them with your latest concoction: a complexion cream made from eggs, cream, oats, and lavender, a soothing blend that would help hide the blemishes on their faces. Not their consciences, unfortunately, but it excites them no less.

~APRIL NINETEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

You awaken before the sun today, the sky is still a dark cobalt and fading into sapphire behind the hills, indicating the orange ball of light will be presenting itself in moments. You sigh, stumped at the sudden feeling in the pit of your core that today will be unlike the others – somehow. You turn over on your other side, away from the window, in search of another wink of sleep. It is futile, and you accept the call for the day to begin.

You step lightly so as to not disturb Pa sleeping just below your floorboards, and begin washing your face, arms, and legs, dressing in your usual skirts, and meticulously perfecting the knot of your hair. You even go as far as braiding the length of it before pinning it around on the back of your head and the sight of it resembles a flower. You hum; a sincere hum of a song your mother used to sing. You ponder why it entered your head in this moment after not having heard it in over a year.

Once the sun begins to peek its rays across the fields, you step down the ladder softly, keeping your eyes to Pa’s bed on the other side of the rails to ensure you haven’t woken him. Only, he isn’t there. His bed is made with care so you know he hasn’t been resting on it for a while. As soon as your boots are planted on the wooden floors, you turn to face the rest of the house. He is nowhere; not in the kitchenette, not sitting at the table, nor sitting in his armchair in the corner of the house.

Confusion strikes you; he has not risen before you since Ma was still here. You grab the lockbox from the safe and your bonnet off the wooden hook in the wall, tying it around your neck and placing the box in your bag, stringing it over your shoulder before stepping outside. There is still a chill in the air from the night and you shiver slightly before cupping your hands around your mouth.

“Pa?!”

You yell into the air, the heat of your breath visible in front of you as you await an answer that doesn’t come. Your eyebrows wrinkle across your forehead, worry beginning to creep into your bloodstream. You walk down the steps from the house and turn towards the fields. As you look across them, the sun shining bright enough now to help your vision, you don’t see his figure anywhere. You walk towards the barn, cupping your hands around your mouth again to repeat your call.

“Here, child!”

You hear the rasp of your father’s voice respond from within the barn. You will your heart to rest from the fright that rushed through your veins, breathing right again knowing your Pa is well. You walk to the doors of the barn, the sun blinding you briefly before entering and you see Pa standing and chatting with a man.

He stands with a confident, yet humble posture, straight brown pants covering tall legs, suspenders attached at the waist and strapped over a bone-white shirt with a black coat resting across broad shoulders. In his hands, he fiddles with a wide brimmed, brown hat that, as you step closer, you can see has small tears & rips along the outer edges. He turns to look in your direction, a soft and friendly smile underneath a neat mustache, hair sparsely adorning his jaw.

“Daughter, this is Mr. Prospect,” Pa introduces.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prospect,” you give a small curtsy and bow your head.

“I assure the pleasure is mine, miss,” he replies, bowing his head. “Your father and I were only just discussing the season you will be faced with here. I am most obliged to be suited enough for work and I am at your service.”

You nod along to his words, finding it difficult to search inside your brain and pull something out of it that may continue the conversation. His voice is rich and decadent, finer than the most luxurious chocolate you might have the pleasure of introducing to the buds on your tongue. It sounds as if it comes from deep within his being as opposed to his throat, and you find it very pleasing to your ears.

“Mr. Prospect here will be our new farmhand for the season. He only just arrived moments before you rose,” Pa continues.

“Forgive me, Pa, I did not hear you wake-”

“Do not fret, little one,” he smiles and places a weathered hand gently on your shoulder and you smile in return. “Daughter, please show our new employee the farm; I have yet to do so, but the chickens need feeding now.”

“Yes, Pa.”

Pa exits the barn with a stomping of his boots as his heavy and tired legs carry him, turning the smile on your face into a small frown. You exhale through your nose and turn to the man, noticing a small tuft of white locks at the beginning of his hairline, fading into a rough cut of shaggy, brown hair. You avert your gaze so as not to be impolite with your stare and look into the mahogany irises of his eyes.

“Well, Mr. Prospect, I do apologize for you having to lodge with the cattle,” you say as you gesture to the black and white beasts resting in their stables.

“It is quite alright, miss. I’m sure they will be most interesting to converse with,” he smiles, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth and his jest pulls a giggle from your throat as you smile.

“Just up there –” you point to the ladder leading to a platform above the cows. “– is a bed of hay. It may stick you, but we will provide plenty of blankets to soothe the irritation and keep you warm.”

His gaze meets the platform, exposing his elongated neck and strong jaw, his profile revealing his aquiline nose and you find your gaze fixated on him once again. What an intriguing man. You realize he must be the new traveler the town was so preoccupied with yesterday, but you find nothing strange about him at all. Quite the opposite. He seems to be the purest and gentlest man that has ever passed through this town. He looks back down to you, the soft, good-natured smile reaching his eyes, the same smile on his face from the moment you met.

“Follow me, please.” You lead him out of the barn and to the fields on the other side and he places his hat back on his head as he walks.

“This is the field the corn will grow, and just on the other side of the barn will be the potatoes. I must divulge that it is quite strenuous. I am thankful to you for accepting the work; it will help my Pa and I tremendously.”

“I respectfully deny your thanks; I’m afraid it is I who should be thankful to you and your father for welcoming me with such friendliness,” he replies and you look up into his eyes. Such beautiful orbs, as brown and majestic as the mountains that surround you, the likes of which you’ve never seen.

“This way,” you say, a light tremble in your voice from momentarily having the ground swept from under your feet. You lead him to the house, stepping up the stairs and opening the door. You take a step inside, but the man does not enter, rather staying still on the porch, fiddling with his hat in his hands once again.

“It is quaint; I’m not sure where you are from, Mr. Prospect. Perhaps you are familiar with more lavish dwellings,” he looks around the room as much as he is able from where he stands and smiles.

“Not in the slightest, dear Sunflower. The home you reside in is lovely and most would be envious to have such to call their own,” he says kindly and you smile genuinely in return, a warmth reaching the apples of your cheeks from his endearment.

“You are welcome to our table for meals and coffee, if you’d like. And we have wash basins you are free to use as well.”

“Many thanks, miss. I am very grateful to have been blessed with hospitality such as this.”

You nod your head, lowering it slightly as you walk out and back onto the porch, the man waiting for you to step down into the dirt before he follows suit. You smooth out your dress and turn to look back at him, his eyes having not left you once.

“What is your name?”

“Ezra,” he replies, reaching his hand out to shake yours. You offer your hand politely and return your name, the greeting between you holding firm, yet gentle; his hand is warm and soft, slightly calloused from farm work.

“Ezra,” you repeat, letting each letter of his name roll from the back of your throat, over your tongue and through your teeth. It was as smooth as the butter you had churned this past monotonous week. “What a unique and beautiful name; very pleasing on the tongue.”

He blushes lightly, a small, shy smile forming on his lips as he averts his gaze to his dirt covered boots.

“Did you see the notice at the post?” You ask, smiling fondly at the bashful man in front of you and he faces you again, nodding his answer. “Yes, I assumed so. There was one at the shop, too, but you had not walked in while I was there.”

“Yes, once I saw the notice and inquired about the position, I spent some time familiarizing myself with the town before heading here to see your father. He had been preoccupied yesterday and requested I return early this morning.”

“That’s strange. He didn’t mention it to me,” you ponder. Then again, it wasn’t unusual for Pa to not trouble you with these affairs until it was time to deal with them. “And you only just arrived yesterday, correct?”

“Yes, miss. To be frank, I am slightly unnerved at the commotion my arrival has stirred; it seems the people here are not accustomed to travelers.”

“Unfortunately, no,” you reply with a contrite look on your face. “I apologize for the welcome not being so friendly. Do not take it to heart. I have grown up here and still feel like an outsider,” you add, the sudden remark escaping you naturally. You have a strange feeling that you may be able to open your mind and thoughts to this man who exudes comfort and compassion. Maybe someday.

“Well, Ezra,” you enunciate again. “I’m afraid I must go now. Pa will have you busy with work in no time, I guarantee. If you ever need anything from me and I am not here, our shop is in town, right after the bank. Please do not hesitate to come by and ask.”

Ezra looks at you again, the tender smile that had budded on his unconventionally attractive face blooming into a full fledged, teeth baring grin. The sight of it makes your heart skip a beat, sparking a dull fire in the furnace within your belly that had long been barren, full of the ashes of any past flame that ceased to exist as quickly as it had lit.

At first glance, it may have been easy to overlook his features, but as you gaze at him before you, it is not difficult to see that he is, in fact, very handsome. You smile in return, adjusting your bonnet to sit atop your head and turning on your heels to walk toward the town.

Of course, the people are still buzzing with the recent arrival of Ezra Prospect. Even worse now, word has reached that he is to be your new farmhand. Mrs. Williams, of course, heard from her husband that Mr. Prospect had shown intrigue in the position, and later that night while they ate dinner, Mr. Williams shared the news with his wife. It truly is doubtful that anyone would be able to survive one, single daybreak without having something or someone to talk about.

The main three hens, Mrs. Foster, Mrs. McKenna, and Mrs. Jones all swarm your personal environment before you even make it inside the shop and they are just about bouncing in their heeled boots, awaiting any sort of information you can give them about Mr. Prospect.

“I hear he’s your new farmhand.”

“Is he as strange as he looks?”

“He seems dangerous; best keep your distance, dear.”

They will not stop; one question rolling into the next from each of their beaks. You have a right mind to lay out some feed on the ground for them so as to keep their mouths busy with other matters. The irritation courses through you, a dull tightness forming at the base of your skull.

“What is his name?”

“Perhaps if he did not feel so unwelcome by the whispers of the town, he may be more inclined to tell you himself,” you say harshly before having a moment to think twice.

They gape at you; the audacity, their expressions seem to say. You don’t seem to care for it, though. To have them whisper about you was one thing; you could manage just fine, however bothersome it is. But Mr. Prospect seemed friendly and gentle enough to make you relinquish any passiveness to these women, unwilling to keep cordial when they’re so unpleasant of anyone new introduced to this town. It’s unusual, this feeling. Protective. Over a man you only spoke to for no more than fifteen minutes.

The women scoff under their breaths, very obviously offended by your response and denial of amusing them. They whisper amongst themselves as they walk away, not trying to hide their second glances at you from over their shoulders as they continue down the road. Surely, the word will spread that you did not wish to speak to them about the traveler, and they will conspire on which hen to send next to continue the digging.

You feel some relief, however, knowing now the conversation will be turned back to you instead of Mr. Prospect. He did not deserve to be treated as such during his stay and you would make sure of that.

Chapter One || Chapter Three

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[2handsslan]

I found myself while loving you

Summary: Draco Malfoy, Slytherin King, one of the meanest boys at Hogwarts finds he might not be who thinks he is after all 

Pairing: Draco X Hufflepuff reader

Word Count: 2153

A/N: Helllooo loves!! So this is my first time EVER writing a fic so please go easy on me. Im so nervous to post this, but I want to start writing and I have to start somewhere! and see if I’m even good at it!! Honestly I don’t know if any of my followers read HP fandom fics but if you do please check this out, tell me what you think! AHHH anyways I hope you like it

Growing up we typically believe our parents can do no wrong. We hold them above everything and everyone. We learn to turn a blind eye to the wrong they sometimes do, even go as far as justifying it. 

This is exactly what Draco did when it came to his father. Mr. Malfoy could do no wrong in the eyes of his little boy, even though all he did was wrong. 

The only thing Draco wanted to do in life was to make his father proud, to be the spitting image of the man. He spoke like him, walked like him, held his head as high as he did. This didn't go unnoticed by his father, but this was not a “proud dad moment” type of situation. Lucious Malfoy took this as an opportunity to shape Draco into everything he wanted him to be, for his own personal gain.  

Draco being in one of the most infamous death eater families meant a dark light was shed on him. Welcoming this with open arms Draco became the meanest student at Hogwarts, from the very moment he stepped onto the train the first day of first year. 

Going into his fifth year, nothing has changed. 

-

Draco sat with his gang of Slytherins in the Great Hall, back pressed to the table, his long legs crossed at the ankles stretched out in front of him, waiting for the newest first years to enter and get sorted into their houses. He threw his head back in laughter at a joke Blaise made. As his head was falling back into place, the smile on his face disappeared and his eyes widening. ‘That couldn't possibly be Y/N Y/L/N… absolutely couldn't be.’ He thought to himself as you walked into the room. You had not looked as you did last year. You had not been ugly by any means, just you, nothing special. You matured quite a lot over the short summer break, turning into a very beautiful young woman. 

And he had definitely noticed. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of you. In his shock, he leaned over and roughly shook Blaise by his shoulder, “Is that Y/N?” 

“What? Merlin it is, she sure did change this summer.” Blaise said adding a whistle. 

You were the true definition of a Hufflepuff, hard-working, patient, loyal, and one of the sweetest girls you would ever meet. Your Y/E/C eyes constantly shine with happiness, sending sweet smiles to everyone who walked by, no matter the scowls or disgusted looks they gave. 

You made your way past the Slytherin table, eyes falling on Draco and sending him a small grin, tucking your hair behind your ear in nervousness. He had never looked at you like that before. Only taking notice of you when he was giving you an odd scowl as you walked past him and his friends in the hallway during previous years with a smile permanently etched on your face. You on the other hand had always taken notice of the Slytherin King. It was quite an odd thing, the sweetest Hufflepuff finding herself swooning over the meanest boy in their year. But you couldn't help it, you were simply intrigued by him. Wondering what made him the way he was. Wondering what had to have happened to make him so cold to others.  And also wondering what kind of things made him smile, and how you wished you could do those things, wished you could make him smile. You sort of felt like a creep, due to the fact that you had never even really spoken to each other outside of being partnered with each other for a Transfiguration project last year. But you couldn't help the butterflies you felt whenever you saw him.

Something inside Draco changed that very moment. For the past two years he had noticed you, not a lot, but just enough to wonder about you from time to time. It was like he was seeing you for the very first time and he needed to know you, to know everything about you. 

Throughout the entire sorting ceremony he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, where he was seated he had a perfect view of your side profile. He took notice in the way your eyelashes curled up, the soft freckles that dusted over our nose and cheeks, the way your head was slightly tilted as you watched the students with interest as they were sorted. 

Simply breathtaking he thought. 

As the first few weeks passed, things did not change. Draco spent every chance he got looking at you, trying to come up with an excuse to speak with you. Once again you had Transfigurations together. “Today you will be working in pairs to vanish a group of mice.” instructed Professor Mcgonnagal, “You may choose who you partner up with, begin.” 

Before he even realized what he was doing Draco had jumped up from his chair and was standing over your desk saying “Would you like to be my partner?” 

He was sure he shared the same shocked expression on your face. Cheeks turning a light pink you agreed. 

Neither of you spoke much during the class, stealing quick glances at one another more than words. After successfully vanishing all of your mice in record time, you turned to him, “Well I can see you have very much improved since last year” a small teasing smirk playing on your lips. 

“I'd like to think so,” he said shyly. This had to have been a mistake you thought, Draco Malfoy shy? Around you? No way, not possible. 

As the thoughts were running through your head you heard him speak again, “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? It's the first trip of the year.” 

It seemed you forgot how to speak, your mouth opened and then closed, your mind suddenly completely blank. 

“Nevermind, that was stupid, why would someone like you want to..” 

“I'd love to go with you” you practically yelled as you realized he was spiraling, probably thinking you would want to do anything but spend time with him. 

And then there it was, the smile that you rarely got to see, and you felt like your heart could burst. The bell rang and he stood up, “I'll meet you in front of the Great Hall after breakfast Saturday then,” he said, a smile still in full view. All you could do was nood, an expression of utter disbelief on your face. 

The rest of the week flew by and next thing you knew you were walking out of the doors of Hogwarts with Draco by your side. The two of you spent the day walking around the shops, and stopping for a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. You were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. As much as you didn’t want to, you had always thought he had to be just as everyone said he was, mean. But you were completely wrong. As you got to know him more and more during your short time, you had a feeling there was a lot more to the boy. 

-

As the months past your time spent with Draco increased. Meeting in the corridors before and after classes, sneaking you to the Slytherin table during meals, and sneaking you into his dorm for late night cuddles every so often.

This was completely out of character for you by others standards but with him you had never felt more yourself. 

And Draco was feeling the exact same way. Slowly but surely his bad guy persona was fading, and people were starting to take notice. Word was getting around that he was becoming a different person. But he did not care anymore. 

“He has to be faking it, he has always been the nastiest boy to walk these halls.” 

“If his family could see him now they would not even recognize him..”

There was no way for him to not hear these things being said about him as he walked from class to class with you on his arm. And one day it finally hit him. They were right, he was not the same boy he had been the previous years, and he had you to thank for that. He realized now that this was him, this is how he was meant to be. 

He had spent his whole life before this trying to live up to his fathers attitude and beliefs that he had become something he wasn't. But he was done, he was done trying to please him, constantly miserable from never seeming to be able to. He was himself now.

-

Word about the way Draco changed so drastically had finally gotten to his father. And it could not have happened at a worse time. This Hogsmead trip he had asked his mother and father to meet him, wanting to introduce you to them. Surprisingly he was not at all nervous, just excited to finally have you meet his family, thinking they would love you just like everyone else did. 

The two of you sat in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop waiting for them to arrive. The door opened and Draco shot straight up, straightening his shirt and hair as his parents walked in. “Father, Mother, it's good to see you. You both look well.” he said. “As do you,” his father said simply. His mother sent him a small smile, from her position behind her husband. Sitting down Mr. Malfoy wasted no time speaking of the rumors he had been hearing about his son. “It has come to my attention that you have changed Draco, and not in a way I would categorize as acceptable.” “You've lost your mind if you think I am going to let you lose yourself,” he sent you a nasty side eyed look, “because of a silly girl.”

You felt Draco tense beside you and instinctively interlaced your fingers with his to try to calm him down. This did not faze you , you know the reputation his father had and did not fool yourself with the thought of him being overjoyed at his son's new attitude. 

Draco spoke as calmly as he could “The way I have been acting is certainly because of Y/N, in the sense that she has made me realize I do not want to be like my miserable father anymore.” He no longer cared if this was supposed to be a happy meeting, introducing his girl to his parents, no this was it, this was where he was going to break free of the hold his father had on him. This was where he was getting the stain of his family's name off of him. 

This seemed to shake his father to the core, realization hit him that he did not have control over his boy anymore, and he was now his own person. His mothers head was tilted down but Y/N could see the small smile on her face. She knew what Dracocould be, and she was proud he was becoming his own person. 

Without saying another word his father got up and stormed out of the shop, his mother throwing him a proud smile as she ran after his father. 

“Draco I’m so sorry, I never meant for this to happen,” You said sadly. 

Without saying anything he stood you up and pulled you into a kiss, breaking away to say “Let's get out of here,” with a smile on his face. 

You sat by the fire in the Slytherin common room late that night wrapped up in Draco’s arms. He was still reeling from the day's events, he had never felt more happy with himself. “I can't remember the last time I felt this good...” he spoke so softly you almost didn't hear him. You turned to look at him, waiting for him to continue. “I've spent as long as I can remember tied up in the idea that I needed to be just like my father to make him love me, but I don't want to do that anymore. I want to be who I am with you all the time, with everyone. It's much easier than being miserable all the time.” 

 You took his face in hands, your thumbs stroking his jawline, “I always knew there was more under that hard exterior, I'm happy I was able to help you let it out.” 

He dropped his forehead against yours, breathing deep, his lips landed on yours in the sweetest but most passionate kiss you had shared. It took your breath away and you were slightly panting as you broke apart. 

“The only love I ever wanted was from my father. But now, the only love I want is yours. An… and i love you more than i can tell you.” 

“And I love you just as much.”

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 5

WARNINGS: Aunt Muriel 🤭, mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

Chapter 5 - Theodora's Flying

Bill was used to the racket that woke him up every morning by now. He was hoping that the rest of his siblings had the same idea as he did – get more sleep the night before the tournament – but when he gazed at his alarm clock and saw that it was only six-thirty in the morning, he quickly realized that he was the only one.

He sighed, got up, and stretched. He heard the twins running down the stairs and he could swear he heard Charlie tickle Ginny in the hallway. At least mum wasn’t shouting this morning. That was a record – two days in a row.

He slowly opened the door of his room and popped his head out cautiously, just in case something would explode in the hallway.

“Never a dull morning, is it?”

Bill turned around toward the voice. He saw Theodora standing in the doorway of Ginny’s room, watching Charlie chase after their youngest sibling as she was squeaking not to tickle her any more.

“Yeah.” Was all he could muster.

Theodora wasn’t the first person he expected to see this morning as she was usually with the twins. He tried smiling and hoped that his untied hair was able to hide his red cheeks.

He hated that he couldn’t say one word to her without blushing or getting butterflies. But he couldn’t deny that he sort of liked it either.

—

The past few weeks have been one of the best he had in a long time. He came to terms that perhaps him having a crush on her wasn’t so bad. He hardly ever thought about the age difference between them anymore and he enjoyed spending time with her – every minute of it.

He and Theodora sneaked out a few times to watch the stars as they did that night when Charlie and Ron forced him to go after her.

He had so much fun with her and he found out so many things about her. He now understood why she was friends with the twins – they might get on his nerves sometimes but they were such good and protective friends to her.

She told him how they have been there for her every time her mum sent her a mean letter, every time she felt alone and missed her brother, every time a boy broke her heart.

He loved listening to her talk about Quidditch even though it never interested him more than a few games he played with his siblings at the Burrow. He loved to hear how she started to correspond with Charlie – asking for a piece of simple advice about her Care of Magical Creatures essay. He couldn’t stop listening to her talk so greatly and fondly about his younger siblings.

He told her about his internship in Egypt and how hard it was to become a Curse Breaker. How they don’t tell you in school what you have to go through to get the job. He told her how much he loves it and that he feels like he will never get sick of what he does.

She was the first person he felt like he could tell anything to without being judged and she seemed so interested in everything he had to say. He felt accepted talking to her and even though he didn’t like admitting it, he felt like that for the first time.

Bill still wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact of how close they got all of a sudden and he was suspicious of the twins and Charlie as they stopped teasing him and pushing him toward her. They were perfect angels and he knew them well enough to know they had to either be up to something or something between him and Theodora changed.

He caught himself waking up excited every morning to spend more time with her. He was astonished how they never ran out of things to talk about and he constantly thought of things that Theodora might find funny because he loved hearing her laugh.

Theodora surprised him when she told him what exactly she will do in the shop when she manages to open it with the twins. Bill thought that she was going to work alongside his brothers and sell their products. He didn’t expect at all that she has basically robbed the library near her home of all the books that are business-related as she decided to stay behind the scenes and run the whole thing.

She admitted that she isn’t big on exposing herself and as much as she loves all their products she doesn’t have a talent when it comes to expressing how amazing they are. The twins and she sat down and talked about it and quickly realized that they are a perfect team – she doesn’t like selling while they do and they think finances are boring but they intrigue her.

The fact that she was willing to read through dozens of books and learn about how to properly run a business made Bill fancy her even more. At this point, he stopped questioning how could she only be 17 and just accepted the fact that she was the most amazing girl he ever had a chance to meet.

—

Charlie finally took mercy on Ginny and was now chasing after Theodora. Even though Bill knew it was all harmless fun he was jealous of Charlie and wished he could be so relaxed and fun around her.

Because he didn’t want to think about how boring and pathetic he is on the day of the tournament, he decided to go down and see what all the commotion is about.

The second he stepped to the lower floor he wanted to turn around and sprint back up. He heard the twins talk to aunt Muriel. He was glad that it wasn’t him. It’s not that he didn’t like her, he did, but she scared him just as much.

He never knew what to say in front of her without insulting her or saying something she is going to comment on. She liked to correct their mistakes ever since Bill can remember and he suddenly understood why Charlie was so keen on staying upstairs – Charlie disliked her even more because she isn’t an animal lover at all and she always commented on the fact that Charlie never brought a single girl home never even willing to listen what he has to say on the topic.

Bill tip-toed to the nearby wooden pillar that separated the hallway from the living room and leaned on it to hear what the twins had to endure. Before he could focus on their conversation he heard footsteps coming down the stairs and the second Theodora saw what he was doing, she started giggling.

She carefully stepped next to him and mimicked his posture.

“What are we doing?” She asked playfully.

“Hiding from my aunt,” Bill admitted, red in the face.

He was bothered by how old Theodora was while he acted like a child, hiding, and eavesdropping? He is such a loser.

“Is she so bad?” Theodora couldn’t stop shaking from giggles which she desperately tried to muffle with her hand over her mouth.

She tilted her head to sneak a peek into the living room.

“There she is! Come here, Theo. Let us introduce you to our favorite aunt.” George said nervously.

Before Bill could do anything about it and save Theodora from the interaction, she was already dragged by Fred to stand next to them.

“And who might you be?” Aunt Muriel narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Theodora.

“This is our best friend, auntie.” George put a hand on Theodora’s back and pushed her forward almost making her slam her forehead against their aunt’s.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Theodora.” She extended her hand and waited for aunt Muriel’s response.

Muriel pursed her lips, her eyes still narrowed, scanning the girl. Theodora couldn’t remember the last time she felt so uncomfortable. It seemed the aunt was either judging her or contemplating if she should invite her to her secret club.

“Muriel.” She said slowly, her eyes moving up and down Theodora’s figure again. “A pleasure.”

“Theo, could you help me in the kitchen, dear?”

Theodora has never been so relieved to help Mrs. Weasley and she hoped that she won’t have to encounter aunt Muriel again during her stay here at the Burrow. She made a mental note to ask Fred and George in which room their aunt is staying in later so she can avoid the entire floor.

She excused herself, forcing a grin. Muriel’s eyes were still on her, her lips pursed again. Theodora stepped towards the kitchen as quickly as the gesture allowed her not to look as if she was running away.

“I like her.” Bill heard his aunt say.

He exhaled as much air as his lungs allowed him. He felt relieved that Theodora could slip away and that his aunt approved of her, not that it mattered in any way.

“So, which one of you is dating her?” Muriel asked Fred and George.

“Neither.” They replied in unison.

“Why? Can’t bother to put in the effort?” The aunt snorted.

“No,” Fred answered annoyed.

“She would be a fine lady to join the family.” Muriel persisted.

“Oh, don’t you worry auntie, Bill’s working on that.”

Bill frowned and clenched his jaw at George’s words. If he wasn’t so desperate to hide from his aunt he would go to the living room and strangle George for saying that.

“William?” Muriel gasped. “Isn’t the girl your age?”

“She is,” Fred answered, his voice indicating that he doesn’t see a problem.

“Are you out of your mind? She is too young for him. Shame on you for even thinking that and you better tell me you were joking and Bill isn’t trying to get the attention of the poor girl!”

Bill’s shoulders sunk at those words and he felt something break inside of him. He knew he was right. He knew Theodora was too young for him and that his siblings were wrong. He couldn’t believe it but aunt Muriel was making sense for a change.

He wanted to slam his head against the pillar – why did he have to listen to his siblings? Of course, they had no idea what they were talking about. He was having too much fun with Theodora, of course, it was too good to be true.

He sighed, feeling disappointed in himself. What was he thinking? What did he think would happen? He was a fool to think that there could ever be something between him and Theodora. He knew that now and he won’t let Charlie or the twins convince him to do anything as stupid again.

He and Theodora got so close in such a short amount of time and what did that bring him? Joy at first and happiness and the feeling of belonging and an opportunity to be himself. But that was just an illusion.

He was mad at himself for thinking that way. For allowing himself to get so low. Of course, he should’ve talked to an adult about it – ask mum perhaps – she would’ve set him straight in a minute.

He let out another sigh. He was right all along and it was time to stop pretending. There can never be anything between him and that wonderful girl. He can try and be friends with her like Charlie was, but he knew himself too well to know that he can't just stop feeling what he feels.

Another sigh – this time accompanied with a head shake. He just has to focus on the tournament and he can go home soon after that. It’s better that way.

He started toward the stairs, making a decision to wait in his room until all of his family members arrive. He wasn’t in a mood to talk to anyone or see anyone for that matter. He just wanted to be miserable.

Walking up the stairs, he silently thanked aunt Muriel for saying what she did. She was right and someone had to tell him the truth, no matter how much it hurt. He just wished she would say that a few weeks ago before he really started falling for Theodora and perhaps could avoid getting his heartbroken.

Now. Now it was too late for that. It’s been done.

—

“Come on, Bill! We have to get ready and we have to talk to Charlie!” Bill sat up on his bed when Fred started banging on his door.

“I’m coming!”

What was all the rush for?

He looked at his alarm clock and realized it was half an hour before the first game starts. He has been staring at the ceiling – his mind completely blank – for 4 hours. At least he didn’t have to interact with anyone.

He got dressed and made his way downstairs.

“Hi, Lee. What are you doing here?” Bill greeted the boy who was pacing up and down the corridor, pieces of parchment in his hands.

“Oh, hi, Bill! The twins invited me to be the tournament commentator.” He said nervously and returned to his notes.

“That’s great.” Bill grinned but didn’t get a reply.

He wasn’t at school anymore when Lee became the match commentator but the twins spoke about him often and always said he was really good so he couldn’t wait to hear him commentate on the game.

“There you are!” Before he knew what was going on, he was dragged outside by George.

George made him stop next to Theodora who was standing next to Fred, Ginny, and Ron – them all making a circle around Charlie.

“What is this? An intervention?” Charlie chuckled nervously. “Am I talking about dragons too much again?”

“Charles Weasley...” Fred said in a deep dramatic voice.

“We are gathered here today...” George followed his lead.

“To ask you something really really important.” Theodora sang as if in a musical.

Charlie was turning around to face each one of them, blinking confusingly, not having any idea what was going on.

“Will you be our Quidditch Captain?” Ginny asked in her sweet voice, making puppy eyes.

“Aww, that is so adorable!” For a second Bill thought Charlie was going to cry.

It was a nice thing his siblings did – asking him like this. Charlie might love his job in Romania but Bill knew he missed playing Quidditch and was proud to announce to anyone that asked him that he was captain while at school.

“Of course! I would love to!” Charlie jumped in the air and gathered them all into a bear hug.

“Now listen, you lot,” Charlie’s voice changed from high pitched excited one to serious the second they broke apart, “we are going up against the strongest teams in our family! We have to be focused, we have to stick together, and most importantly,” he smirked, “you have to listen to me.” He pointed his thumb at his chest.

“Five teams are competing – Aunt Muriel’s Army, The Prewetts, American Weasleys, the Twice Removed Cousins, and The Best Weasleys.” Charlie’s eyebrows were almost touching, that’s how focused he was.

“In case you’re wondering, we’re The Best Weasleys. Now,” he clapped his hands, “The Prewetts will play against the American Weasleys first. Then Aunt Muriel’s Army will play with the Twice Removed Cousins. Then the winning teams will play with each other and the winners get to compete against us.”

“If anyone is wondering why we seem to have no competition,” Charlie looked at Theodora who had the biggest grin on her face finding his speech as amusing as everyone else, “it’s because we won last year and winners just have to defend their title. We are the best Weasleys after all.” Charlie lifted his chin proudly.

“Anyone have any questions?” He asked and locked eyes with each one on his team.

Nobody dared to move a muscle. Bill never got a chance to see Charlie become the Quidditch Captain but he couldn’t deny that he was impressed. Charlie always messed around and seeing him so serious was a nice change of scenery.

Bill couldn’t stop sneaking a look at Theodora even if he wanted to. Her eyes were full of sparks looking at Charlie speak. She joined the team in Charlie’s last year and Bill knew that she not only admired him but missed him as a captain as well.

“Good! Everybody knows their position?”

They all nodded immediately.

“Great! Then go grab your gear, we have a tournament to win people!” Charlie started clapping his hands, gesturing to everybody that they should move.

Bill sat next to Ginny on the ground, waiting for the match between Aunt Muriel’s Army and Twice Removed Cousins to end. The Prewetts made complete fools out of American Weasleys, which wasn’t all that surprising since in the USA they barely play Quidditch and it showed on the pitch.

To distract himself from the fact that Theodora was sitting on his other side, Bill tried to focus on Lee who was commentating on the game. He was brilliant. Fred and George were right – he was good! He hoped that he will act upon his talent and that he’ll be able to hear him commentate on one of the future Quidditch World Cups.

“The Snitch has been caught! Aunt Muriel’s Army wins!”

Aunt Muriel stood up from her chair, where the family members that weren’t playing were sitting and cheering and started clapping loudly.

“Blimey, they are good this year.” Bill heard Fred whisper to Charlie behind him.

“Nah, they don’t stand a chance against The Prewetts.” Charlie calmed him down.

“That isn’t exactly encouraging for us if we have to go against them later,” George said.

“Come on, where’s your confidence?” Charlie nudged them with his shoulders. “You have me as captain and the Seeker and Theodora is an amazing Chaser and I have no doubt that you won’t destroy them with Bludgers and you said it yourself that Ron is getting better.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” George grinned mischievously.

“We are going to destroy them.” Fred agreed.

—

“That was a rough defeat for Aunt Muriel’s Army. 230 – 20 for The Prewetts and the game is over!”

Aunt Muriel wasn’t cheering so loudly anymore – she hid behind her hat instead.

Charlie was right. Despite Aunt Muriel’s Army doing their best, they didn’t stand a chance against The Prewetts. The twins hoped that Charlie was right about beating them too. They simply can’t lose, not at their home!

“Bill, you’re in-game spirit yet?” Charlie put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, making him turn around.

“Of course, let’s go beat their arses!” Bill thrust his hand high in the air and felt Theodora giggle next to him at his words.

“See, you’re not as stuck up as you appear to be.” George winked at him.

“That’s the Bill we know and love!” Fred put his hands on Bill’s shoulder and shook him, making Bill playfully roll his eyes.

“Let’s go, team! It’s time to win this!” Charlie roared and ushered them all to the pitch.

They barely mounted their brooms when they could already hear Arthur Weasley cheering loudly in his chair. Molly Weasley stood up and started clapping with the biggest smile on her face.

This was the one event that brought the whole family together like this and it didn’t matter if they made fools out of themselves and they didn’t care how the rest of the family was looking at them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were proud of their children and when better to show it than while playing Quidditch at the Burrow.

“Witches and Wizards, welcome to this year’s Weasley Tournament Finale!” Lee shouted into his microphone.

“We have The Prewetts, who won two games today and they did a great job, they sure deserve to be in the finale!” Lee admitted. “They are going against The Best Weasleys who have been holding the winner title of this tournament for 3 years now!”

“Will they be able to defend their position and stay on top or will the Prewetts become the new champions?”

A man with the curliest and reddest hair Lee has ever seen opened the chest in the middle of the field and let out the balls.

“The Snitch and the Bludger are out! Quaffle goes to The Best Weasleys and Ginny Weasley is already making her way with it toward the hoops!”

Lee watched Ginny sneak between two Beaters of the opposite team. She was still young but she showed exceptional talent. Because she was the youngest player, they didn’t take her seriously and she flew right past them straight in front of the other team’s Keeper.

“And Ginny scores the first goal! What a performance! The Prewetts sure didn’t see that coming!”

“Charlie Weasley – the former Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Seeker – is already after the Snitch! But what’s this now,” Lee gasped, “the Prewett’s Seeker is trying to knock Charlie off his broom. The Prewetts decided to take revenge for the first goal!”

“Fred and George Weasley are trying their best to stir the Bludger into the Seeker’s direction but they have to be careful not to hit their brother!”

Lee was shaking in his seat. The games at Hogwarts were intense sometimes and he always had so much fun commenting on them but this was something else. Family members competing against each other and seeing the Weasleys play together was like a dream come true. So many generations, so many amazing Quidditch players.

“Bill Weasley has the Quaffle now, but two Chasers from the opposite team are right on his tail!”

“Bill, watch out!” Bill turned to see George about to smack the Bludger in his direction.

He leaned forward to gain speed and got away just in time.

“What a performance from George Weasley! He knocked that Chaser right off his broom. This allows Bill to score, will he be able to do it?”

Lee stood up now, the excitement running through his body simply didn’t allow him to sit still any longer.

“Oh, no! George might have knocked one Chaser to the ground but the other two look like they won’t show any mercy to Bill!”

“Bill, over here!”

Bill barely dodged the Chaser that stopped right in front of him, wanting to trip him and looked to his left. Theodora was waving her hand and pointing to the hoops. Nobody was after her – all the attention on him. He gripped the Quaffle and lifted his hand.

“Bill passed the Quaffle to Theodora Cork, who is a remarkable Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts, and she scores!”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now both standing up and jumping in the air, cheering louder than before. The American Weasleys and the Twice Removed Cousins were also cheering for The Best Weasleys.

“The Bludger is now following The Prewett’s Seeker, giving Charlie Weasley a chance to go after the golden ball!”

Lee couldn’t help but wish that all Weasley siblings could play at school. He can’t remember when was the last time he had so much fun but was on the edge of his seat at the same time.

“Bill Weasley is the one who scored this time! 60 – 30 for The Best Weasleys!”

Charlie was proud of Bill for scoring. He knew the most how nervous he was to play since he played Quidditch the least and can’t remember when the last time he used a broom was. But he had no time to show it. They might be leading by 30 points but it was time to end this and win for the fourth year in a row.

“Ginny scored again! I dare to say that she will join the team at Hogwarts soon! She is too talented not to do so!”

Ginny’s cheeks turned pink at Lee’s words. She was proud of herself and she finally got the opportunity to show herself on the broom.

“Charlie caught the Snitch! Charlie caught the Snitch! The Best Weasleys aren’t called the best without a reason! They are the champions of this year’s tournament!” Lee tried shouting in his microphone while jumping up and down.

Molly and Arthur were jumping in the air, embraced, waiting for their children to get off their brooms so they could go and congratulate them.

“Take that, Prewetts!” Molly turned to the family who was sitting behind her and stuck out her tongue.

“Mollywobbles, you are a Prewett,” Arthur whispered in her ear, gently.

“Not when my children just won a spectacular match!” Mrs. Weasley cupped her husband's face, kissed him hard on the mouth, and ran toward the kids.

Mr. Weasley stood still for a second, astonished how into the game his wife got and then ran after her.

“We won! We won!” Ginny, Ron, and Theodora were jumping in the air.

“This was amazing!” Fred and George high-fived.

“Why do we only have this tournament once per year?” Charlie stepped to the group, the biggest proud grin on his face.

“I’m proud of you, brother.” He hugged Ron and got a smile in exchange.

“Gin-Gin! Since when are you a professional Quidditch player!” Charlie rushed to his baby sister, hugged her around the waist, and lifted her high in the air, making her giggle.

“Theo, you were brilliant!” Fred and George squeezed Theodora into a hug sandwich.

“Ginny was better! We have to get her on our team!” Her eyes were on Ginny who was now put down by Charlie because Molly started to give him warning looks for lifting her so high.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so proud of all of you!” Molly hugged her eldest son so tightly that he couldn’t breathe for a second.

“You showed those Prewetts what’s business!” Arthur grinned at the lot.

“We are the best Quidditch family.” Mrs. Weasley squeaked in excitement.

“You weren’t as bad as you deemed yourself to be.”

Bill turned around to see Theodora smirk at him. He couldn’t help but return the smile. The last time they were stargazing together they talked about the tournament and Bill expressed his concerns when it came to his gameplay. He didn’t think he did much, he only scored once but for him, the achievement was already that he didn’t fall off his broom.

“You were better!” He stepped closer to her and pulled her in a hug.

Theodora stiffened, not expecting Bill to hug her. He never did that before. They never hugged before. It felt nice and she didn’t care at that moment what anybody around them would think so she relaxed, closed her eyes, and hugged him back.

“Oh, stop it.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

She didn’t want to let go of him because her cheeks were bright red and it would be a miracle if Bill wouldn’t notice.

“I’m serious. You’re really talented.” Bill gently pulled away, his hands on her shoulders.

He was praying that she couldn’t hear his racing heartbeat. He had no idea what got over him – pulling her in a hug. It just seemed fitting and it felt so right. How could it feel so right?

He was watching her fly on that pitch as if there was nobody else there. And to say that he had fun playing Quidditch was an understatement. It was pure adrenaline when he passed the ball to Theodora and he can’t recall ever having so much fun at the tournament before. Perhaps it was because Theodora was a part of their team.

He was in awe of how good she was. Charlie kept saying it and the twins told him in many letters but he didn’t know just how much talent the girl in front of him had until he saw it for himself today.

She was brilliant. In every aspect. In everything she did. He embraced her again. He couldn’t keep looking into her eyes and he didn’t know how to make her turn around or step away from her.

At that moment he didn’t care who was around them and who could see them. He wanted to celebrate the fact that they won and he wanted to do it with her.

He gently pushed her away when he heard whistling. He saw Fred and George standing in front of them, clapping and raising their eyebrows up and down. Theodora just giggled, trying hard not to look at Bill, who was flushed.

He took a step backward. Suddenly, everything that he heard aunt Muriel say in the morning came back to him and the disappointing feeling that he once again gave in to his feelings overwhelmed him.

He has to stop doing this. He has to stop thinking about her in this way. Wanting to spend time with her – to talk to her – to be with her. It was wrong and he can’t be so weak and keep crossing the line. It’s not fair to her and he’s definitely not making it easy for himself.

Remembering that the tournament is over and that he can soon go home made him feel better. He can go back to Egypt and forget this summer ever happened. It’s for the best. It’s not like he can do anything about it anyway.

—

“Do you have the beer?” Bill whispered.

“Yes.” Charlie lifted a six-pack with his right arm.

“Do you have the non-alcoholic beer?”

“Yes.” Charlie lifted the six-pack he was holding with his other arm.

“Okay, I’ll go find the twins and you go to Ginny’s room.” Bill pointed at the door ahead of them, where Ginny and Theodora were sleeping.

“You go wake up your girlfriend.” Charlie put the beer down in front of Fred and George’s room, ready to go inside.

“She’s not my...” Bill sighed and rolled his eyes. “...never mind.”

He knew that no matter what he says, he won’t win an argument against Charlie. He turned around instead and tip-toed to Ginny’s room. He carefully opened the door, ready to find them both sound asleep, but Theodora was reading a book, the room lit by her wand.

“Hi.” Bill smiled awkwardly at her.

“Hey.” Theodora waved.

She lowered her wand and closed her book without marking it. As if she could concentrate on reading. She was so into her thoughts that suddenly seeing Bill made her heart go crazy.

She was trying, she really was. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Bill hugged her twice after the match. She kept thinking how good his arms around her felt and how proud he looked of her.

Her thoughts also kept getting disturbed by what she overheard aunt Muriel say to Fred and George this morning. Of course, she agreed with her. The age difference between them was too big but she didn’t have to be reminded of that. Not when she was having so much fun with him for the past few weeks.

She got to know Bill so much better and it seemed he was getting more relaxed around her and he trusted her more. It felt nice. She might be hiding and denying her feelings but at least she can be his friend.

That didn’t mean that what aunt Muriel said this morning didn’t hurt her. It did. Every time they were together and their hands brushed, or their shoulders touched, she was already reminded of the fact that Bill will never see her more than a friend, and each time she couldn’t help but wonder if things would be different if she was older. If only she was the older one in her family and not Eric.

“Is everything okay?” Theodora asked after swallowing hard.

She was doing it again – staring at him like an idiot.

“Yes...uhm...we...I mean Charlie and I...” Bill scratched his head.

Why was this so hard? He was getting good at talking to her but he couldn’t take the way she was looking at him – her eyes full of wonder and excitement for what he has to say.

He took a deep breath. He has to get it together, he can’t be so weak around a girl – around her.

“We want to celebrate today’s victory and I...I mean we were wondering if you would like to join us?”

Could he sound more hopeful that she’ll come? If Theodora wasn’t looking him straight in the eyes he would’ve rolled them, that’s how annoyed he was with himself.

“Sure. Let me just put something else on than my pajamas.” She chuckled and stood up.

“Of course, I’ll wait for you outside.” Bill chuckled too and closed the door behind him.

“That was smooth.”

Bill glared at Charlie who was giggling, walking past him going toward the stairs.

“Give me a break, Charles,” Bill whined.

He wanted to smack him over the head. It was already bad that he couldn’t talk normally to her but Charlie had to hear how awkward he was. He was counting the days to return to Egypt now.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Theodora closed the door behind her, careful not to wake Ginny.

“Where are you taking me?” She turned to Bill with the biggest smile on her face.

She looked as excited as if they were going on a vacation.

“We are going to the roof.” Bill cleared his throat and gestured for Theodora to follow him.

“Theo!” The twins exclaimed when they saw that Bill brought her too.

“Did you two finish your make-out session?” Fred winked at her and George started laughing so much that he almost fell off the roof.

Theodora hit both of them in the shoulder, ignoring their teasing, and rolled her eyes.

“Beer for me and Bill.” Charlie handed one to Bill. “And nonalcoholic for you three.” He tore open the box and gave each a bottle.

“Why do we get a nonalcoholic beer? We’re 17!” Fred frowned.

“Yeah, we’re of age.” George followed.

“Because mum would have our heads if she found out we gave you alcohol,” Bill explained.

“So unfair.” George sighed and opened his bottle.

The second he tasted the bubbly beverage a smirk appeared on his face and he exchanged a look with his twin. Fred put a finger over his mouth to indicate that he should stay quiet.

Theodora couldn’t believe how much fun they were having. She has never been on a roof before, let alone have a little party on it. She was laughing so hard as Charlie tried imitating one of their relatives when they realized they lost.

He did a perfect impression. The Prewetts were really mad that they lost. She, of course, thought that they didn’t stand a chance. They were playing well, she had to give them that but the Weasley’s were so good at Quidditch and had so many talented kids on the broom that she kind of felt that they overpowered the other team but she didn’t care. They won and the whole family was so happy about it and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

—

Theodora was sitting next to Bill and Fred, looking down at her second – now empty –bottle. She looked at the sky and felt as if the stars were dancing in front of her. She closed one eye and then the other one. She then closed them both at the same time and squinted hard, thinking she was just sleepy.

She opened them up again and now she wasn’t just seeing dancing stars but was dizzy too. She looked down at her bottle again and tried reading the label but Fred almost rolling down the roof distracted her.

“Gogie, did you see...that.” Fred hiccuped and then laughed as if he has never laughed before.

He was clutching his stomach, laughing at Bill’s face who grabbed his shirt just in time for him not to fall off.

“Do it again. Feddie...again.” George put his head between his legs, trying hard not to laugh.

Bill narrowed his eyes, looking at his brother’s sudden change in behavior. He then looked at Charlie who was observing them with his eyebrows raised and alert, ready to catch them again in case they try something funny.

“Can I just see something?”

Bill turned to Theodora who was blinking, looking at the fingers on her hand.

“Mhm.” She mumbled and gave Bill her bottle.

“Charlie.” Bill hissed, making Charlie look at him. “This is not non-alcoholic beer.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie stood up at once and took the bottle from Bill.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Charlie whispered to himself.

“You said you had non-alcoholic beer for them!” Bill glared at his brother.

“I...I was sure it was. Bill, I swear.” The panic on his face grew larger.

Bill sighed. Charlie obviously made a mistake. He knew he was grown-up enough not to get his younger siblings drunk on purpose and on the roof too.

“What are we going to do?” Charlie started biting his lip nervously. “Mum will kill us if she finds out.”

“She won’t.” Bill pursed his lips, trying to think of something quickly.

“We’ll wait on the roof until they sober up a bit and then we’ll take them to bed.” He said after a minute of thinking.

“Ha-ha, we knew.” George was laying down now, still laughing.

“Knew what?” Bill turned to him.

“We took a sip, we knew it was beer.” Fred elaborated.

“You knew?” Bill frowned.

How could they be so irresponsible? He knew that this probably wasn’t the first time they were drunk. He attended Hogwarts, he remembered the parties that happened in the common rooms. But this was different – he and Charlie got them drunk. They were supposed to be responsible for them.

“Of course, they knew.” Charlie rolled his eyes.

For the first time since the summer started, Charlie seemed annoyed by something the twins did. It was one thing to make mum mad and to create dangerous products in their room. Being drunk wasn’t funny, especially them being on a roof and Bill knew that Charlie was just as worried about them as he was.

“I go sleepsleep now, Gogie.” Fred laid down on one of the blankets they set up and covered himself with another one.

“Wait for me, wait for me!” Fred didn’t walk to his twin brother – he jumped to the spot.

For a second Bill was sure he was going to have a heart attack.

Charlie carefully watched his every jump, his whole head moving up and down with Fred’s action. He was so pale that Bill was sure he was going to throw up.

“How are you feeling?” Bill turned to Theodora, taking off his jacket and putting it around her.

“I’m fine. A bit dizzy.” She smiled gently.

She was adorable. Bill wanted to pull her toward himself, so she could lean on his shoulder but thought better of it. She is sitting next to him, he can keep an eye on her without the gesture.

“I didn’t know that the beer wasn’t non-alcoholic.” She looked up at Bill with the biggest apologetic eyes.

Bill wanted to melt, that’s how cute she was. He couldn’t be mad at her, even if she told him that she was the one who gave them the beer.

“I know.” He whispered to her and tried his hardest to keep a straight face but he never could with her – she always made him want to smile.

It didn’t take Fred and George 15 minutes to start snoring next to each other. Charlie covered George with a blanket and sat down next to Bill.

“Well, this didn’t go according to plan.” He sighed.

“I’ll say.” Bill took a sip of his beer.

“So, you two are getting close.” Charlie nodded toward Theodora who was now snoozing on Bill’s shoulder.

“Charlie, give me a break. I told you she’s too young for me.” Bill whined.

If Theodora wasn’t leaning against him, he would get up and leave. He can’t have this conversation again.

“You’re on this again,” Charlie rolled his eyes, “I thought you were over your age difference.”

“I heard aunt Muriel talk to the twins this morning and she said she’s too young for me. I knew I should’ve talked to someone else than you gits.” He frowned.

“Oh, come on! Who listens to aunt Muriel?”

“Charlie, seriously, give it a rest. This is killing me as it is.” Bill looked down at Theodora, wishing he didn’t – she was so beautiful when she was sleeping.

“If the age bothers you so much all you have to do is wait for another 6 months. She’ll be 18 in January.” Charlie tried cheering him up.

“Do you know how creepy that sounds?” Bill cringed.

“Not really, no.” Charlie rubbed his chin, saying it again in his head. “So what if she’s younger? In a few years that won’t matter at all. Once we get to our twenties the differences between someone who is 21 and someone who is 29 are almost invisible.”

“Since when are you so smart about these things?” Bill raised an eyebrow at Charlie.

“I have a lot of friends who, for some reason, come to me for relationship advice.” Charlie chuckled.

“So, Mr. Advice-Giver, did you ever have a case like this?” Bill teased.

“No. But I have a friend in Romania who is 42 and he liked this girl who is 23 and everybody told them that she’s too young for him but he went for it anyway and they’re really happy together.” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not the same, Charlie.” Bill pouted.

“How is it not the same?” Charlie asked puzzled.

“It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t feel the same way anyway.” Bill sighed and looked up at the stars.

“Seriously?” Charlie pressed his lips together.

“What?”

“I am prepared to bet that she not only likes you but has feelings for you.” Charlie nodded at Theodora, whose arm was now wrapped around Bill’s, her eyes still closed.

“She just fell asleep on my shoulder,” Bill said, annoyed with his brother.

“Right, and she constantly sneaks looks at you and she giggles at everything you say and she spends most of her free time with you or near you,” Charlie smirked.

“None of that is important. We can’t happen, Charlie. All the teasing and winking you and the twins do can only be in good fun. We can’t be together.”

Bill turned back to Theodora, looking at her longingly. The words hurt more than he would like to admit, especially because this was the first time he said them out loud, and now more than ever was he convinced that he was making the right decision.

“Alright,” Charlie gave up, “your heartbreak not mine.”

Exactly. It was his choice. He knows she is too young. And Charlie is delusional to think that she fancies him back. And there is simply too much distance between them once he goes back to Egypt. He has more reasons why they can’t be together, but right now, those convinced him enough to look away from her.

[mrsgiovanna]

Unhinged - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A misunderstanding causes the reader a whole lot of distress. Blame it on the stress of planning your wedding to the Golden dreamboat or his shifty behavioral cues. Needless to say this occurs many years after the events of Vento Aureo. Some mild angst, some fluff, some mild nsfw- a mixed bag that nobody asked for really, unashamedly self indulgent 🥺💭💖

You always judged those unhinged girls. You know the type, the ones who would steal their partners phones and “run into them” at very convenient times. Pathetic, you’d always think, so you could not understand how, in heaven’s name, you found yourself sitting in your car across from your favorite Café, spying on your fiancé. You were thankful for the oversized sunglasses that hid most of your face as you stole a glance at yourself in the rear view mirror. You can’t imagine what your eyes might look like at this point.

It all started a week ago… Giorno was an extremely busy man, you of all people knew that best. He always made time for you though, however, the closer it got to your wedding, the less you saw of him. You were busy yourself, so you didn’t really have much time to yearn for his company, but the coldness of your bed was always a reminder that someone very important was supposed to be occupying that space. It wasn’t just the scarcity of your lover that had set off alarms in your mind, it was more his odd behavior. He was so secretive these days, keeping conversations shorter than they needed to be, hiding his devices from you when he received texts, discarding every scrap of paper from his pockets before properly greeting you when he did manage to come home in the daylight. Each time you questioned his behavior he just sweetly smiled and replied that everything was alright.

And so continued this mistimed waltz on eggshells until that fateful morning. A swirl of emotions bubbled up in your chest suffocating you when you found some kind of broken jewel clinging to Giorno’s suit. You couldn’t really make out what it might have been part of, or what lewd activities managed to dislodge it from its original owner and onto him, but for the first time in the years you have been together, you were suddenly unsure of whether you could spend your life with this man. Did you even know him at all?

The walls of the villa never felt so restrictive before, you needed to get out, clear your mind, perhaps even get another perspective. You could just be overreacting as you know you are inclined to do sometimes. Giorno was still in the shower, you contemplated letting him know that you were going out, but decided to just go. He can stew a little, get a taste of your personal hell for just a few hours. Hurriedly throwing on the outfit you laid out, you grab your keys and headed off to your favorite coffee shop, calling Trish while you were on your way there, asking her to meet you. The two of you had grown closer over the years and right now you needed a friend who would give you sound advice without sugarcoating the facts.

Giorno had sauntered out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his upper body still glistening from the shower with his wet hair cascading down his back. He expected to find you there just doing your hair or putting on your mascara, he loved watching you get ready. It gave him a chance to fully admire you, making him feel proud, bordering on arrogant, that you were his and only he got to see all the different sides there were to your beauty. He knew he was being distant with you but he had his reasons for being so preoccupied. Walking towards the nightstand to check his phone, he sees the jacket he wore yesterday on the floor with the little jewel still hooked onto the fibers of the expensive fabric. Throwing his head back in resignation, he called Trish, already aware of what you might be thinking, and knowing that she’s usually the first person you’d turn to when you needed to chat.

“Hi Trish, do you have a second to chat? I’ll make it quick,” he starts off, putting the call on speaker so he can get dressed for the day.

“Giorno, what did you do? She already called me in a state, I’m on my way to meet her for coffee as we speak,”

“Okay look, I can explain everything, just know that I’m not being unfaithful,”

“How did this escalate so fast? Why are you giving her reasons to jump to these conclusions so close to the wedding? You better not be messing around,”

Giorno could hear the suspicion that edged Trish’s voice, so he explained everything and begged her to calm you down while he tended to a few issues.

You felt your shoulders relax as the tension melted away after pouring your heart out to Trish. After speaking to her it dawned on you that coming out and asking Giorno would be better than letting this outlandish scenario fester in your mind. After giving you the pep talk you needed Trish left to get on with her day while you stayed to organize yours. Sipping the last bit of your mocha Frappe, you darted towards your car when suddenly your attention was caught by a flash of gold and a flourish of a deep cerulean blue coat entering the Café. Certain that your eyes were playing tricks on you, you blinked a few times, but it was as clear as the blue sky above you, Giorno had arrived there with another woman. Hastily getting into your car, you sank into the soft leather seat and fished out your oversized Chanel sunglasses to conceal your presence as much as possible in the off chance he looked in your direction, although chances of that seemed very slim given how engrossed he was in their conversation.

Oh you hated every painful second of this, all the tension and anger that you’d let go of, found you all at once, marring your otherwise beautiful features.

You watched as he pulled out her chair and sat across from her, smiling that charming smile that could disarm a terrorist. He barely looked away from her, you wished he would see you, wondering what kind of explanation he’d conjure up. You contemplated going back inside to confront them, but you didn’t trust your emotions, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You wouldn’t dare give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry… and so you watched, preparing yourself for what you may or may not see, however your resolve shattered when you saw Giorno pull out a little black box and slide it across the table towards her. She beamed as she opened it examining the contents without taking it out… was it a replacement for that trinket that you found? He always did have impeccable taste, you had always thought it was reserved for you though. Unable to watch any longer, you started the car and sped off, not wanting to go home, but having no motivation to go anywhere else, you just drove aimlessly for a while.

“Oh Mr Giovanna, these are perfect, they’re exactly what I needed to complete her bracelet, I’m sure your fiancé is going to love it!” exclaimed the lady sitting opposite your lover.

“Please, call me Giorno. I would hope so, it’s more sentimental than anything else, I’m just astounded that you were able to recreate the intricacies of the original design. Your talent knows no bounds,”

“Ah, like any artist, I’m always intrigued by beauty and mystery. How were you able to get a this many dainty gems at this short notice?”

“I have my network, I’m just glad you can complete it now, I can’t wait to give it to her,”

“Well you won’t have to wait too long, I should have this ready by the close of business today,”

“I won’t keep you any longer then, thanks once again for handling my request,” said Giorno with an extended hand as he stood up to leave.

It was a mission to try and recreate your mother’s heirloom bracelet from a faded, wrinkled picture, but he was determined to give you something special, that would make you feel closer to her as well. Your lineage was a mystery, your father unknown, so when your mother arrived in Italy it was one of the few valuables she had had on her person. She did everything she could to provide for you when you were little, but she unfortunately had succumbed to her circumstances leaving you to fend for yourself in an unforgiving world. His heart clenched when you recounted stories of your childhood, which somewhat mirrored his own. You never complained though, he could see your heart ached when you thought of her, and all the things she would have helped you with especially now. Still, the way you concealed your heartache with a trained smile, would always make him wonder how such strength could be contained by something so angelically beautiful. Drawn out of his reverie of you, Giorno had arrived at his destination and continued with his day until it was time to collect your present and head home.

By the time you had finally found yourself at your driveway, you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in a cave and hibernate until everything was over. How arrogant of you to assume this would last when every good thing in your life came to an end. Dragging your wary body up the stairs, you buried yourself under the soft comforter, shutting your eyes with the hope that it would all have been a dream by the time you resurface.

When Giorno finally made it home, the first thing he did was seek you out. Usually you’d be quietly nestled on the couch reading or working on something, or you’d be tinkering in the kitchen making some sort of delicious treat, both as a means to relax and indulge your shared sweet tooth. But you couldn’t be found in either of those places. He found you huddled on the bed you both shared, looking so fragile as you slept in a fetal position. He didn’t want to disturb you but he couldn’t help gently brushing your hair off your face, which unfortunately resulted in you waking up.

“Gio, I didn’t expect you back this early…” you murmured, still waiting for your eyes to adjust to the light. The events of today came flooding back to you and you resolved to just come straight out and confront him. Noticing the change in your demeanor, Giorno sat next to you on the edge of the bed, while he loosened his top shirt button and took off his tie.

“Giogio, I don’t know how to put this delicately, so I’m just going to say it… you’ve been acting so different lately, always so secretive, hiding things from me, and this morning I found remnants of some jewelry that didn’t belong to me on your clothes… and probably the worst thing of all is that I saw you with someone while I was out this morning. You both looked very comfortable with each other, and… I… who is she?” you rambled on, your voice barely louder than a whisper. This wasn’t playing out how you had imagined it, with most of the fight being forced out of your body by melancholy. Seeing the evidence of your anguish in your eyes, Giorno reached out to cup your cheek, you mentally chastised yourself for automatically melting into his touch.

“Ah my sweet principessa, I love you, only you, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you or break that trust. The lady you saw me with is a jewelry designer, I commissioned something very special for you, so we just met so I could give her the materials to complete it… I wanted to give it to later at dinner tonight, but you’re in no condition to go out, so let’s stay in, okay?” he explained as he pulled out a box from his breast pocket and settled down next to you. “Go on, open it,”

You gingerly take the box, opening it slowly, curiosity and embarrassment fighting against each other in your mind.

“Gio, how did you manage to find it after all these years? I thought it would have been melted down and broken up completely.”

You simply couldn’t believe your eyes, it broke your heart when you sold off the bracelet to pay off her debts after she passed, it killed your spirit entirely when you were told it wasn’t enough to cover what she’d owed. That’s how you found yourself in Passione, working as one of Bucciarati’s underlings.

“Well, unfortunately I couldn’t find the exact piece bella, trust me, I tried. You’re probably correct in saying that it was taken apart, so I had this recreated to its exact specifications. I hope you like it,”

Giorno’s voice was so tender, as was his expression. Tears clouded your vision, it was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for you, you were at a complete loss for words.

“Gio… Tesoro, I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like nearly enough. And I’m so sorry I ever doubted you, I feel like such an idiot, that’s probably because I am one. How can I make it up to you? I totally understand if you’re too upset to talk to…” your rambling was cut off by Giorno’s lips gently pressing against your own. His hand softly grasped the back of your head, slightly tilting your face upwards to deepen the kiss.

“That was thanks enough amore mio, I love you,”

“Ti amo con tutto il mio cuore,” you reply, while trying to hide your embarrassment by nestling your face in the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Molto bene, your Italian is improving bella, I’m proud of you.”

Giorno snaps the sparkly trinket onto your wrist and admires how your eyes light up when you look at it. The glimmer of his eyes in the soft lighting of the room awakened a yearning within you. Giving in to the feeling, you kiss Giorno’s collarbone, earning a hum of approval from him, as you softly trailed kisses up his neck and onto his jaw, finally settling on his lips. You felt him smiling into the kiss, he ran his tongue across your bottom lip asking for entry, to which you willingly obliged as your hands toyed with his braid, undoing it completely. His hands ran up and down your body, worshipping the dips and curves he adored so much. Breaking away from the kiss for a moment, he looked down at you, eyes darkened with lust, hands hovering over the buttons of your shirt asking for permission to disrobe you, which you granted with a small nod. He was so gorgeous, so strong and he exuded such charisma that you found yourself submitting to his every request, spoken or otherwise, lapping up every bit of praise he afforded you as you took him in his entirety. Once, twice, you had lost count of how many times you both peaked.

At some point in the night you had woken up ensconced in the warm embrace of your sleeping lover, finally being able to form a coherent thought, you promised yourself to never baselessly doubt his love for you ever again. With that you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to fall asleep again, feeling completely safe, content and loved.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.8

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (4.5k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphical descriptions of blood and violence, depictions of physical torture, character death

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, February 9 

The sound of heavy steps echo into the air, footsteps gliding against the surface of the ground. 

He frantically swings the door open, eyes darting back and forth. Seokjin is seated on a chair with his orbs glued to the screen in front of him as Jimin leans forward, attempting to scrutinize the details displayed before him. 

Namjoon lets out a huff, racing over and attempting to catch his breath, “Any luck?” 

Jimin looks up and shakes his head, only for Namjoon to deeply sigh in retaliation. He rubs a hand against his temples, brows contorted. 

“I don’t understand.” Seokjin proclaims, drawing his attention. “Where could she have possibly gone?” 

“You don’t think‒” Jimin instantly bites back his words, not wanting to pull into question the integrity of Namjoon’s decision in regards to you. 

Namjoon shakes his head, “There has to be something….” He paces over to the screen Seokjin was observing, “Did you find any clues in her correspondence?”  

“There’s not much I can tell you.” Seokjin lets out a sound of dismay, “Y/N actually seemed to be covering up for herself, and she didn’t leak any important information out.” 

Namjoon leans back, resting his weight on the sole of his feet. The situation in the most basic form for him, is utterly baffling. He isn’t able to comprehend why you would disappear so suddenly, what your intention or motive behind it was, or the worst of thoughts, if the reasoning has something to do with him. 

That’s when his eyes widen, a mere flash that captures his entire attention. 

His feet automatically propel him forward, halting right beside one particular screen in the far corner. Namjoon slowly crouches down with narrowed eyes as Jimin turns around, beckoning to Seokjin right away. 

“I think I might have found the answer.” It doesn’t take another second for Seokjin to immediately rise from his seat, inspecting the monitor Namjoon is referring to. 

“It’s been turned on…” He mumbles, craning his head right and left as he examines it. 

As if reacting to him, it flickers for a split second, before remaining active and showcasing details that have his eyes widening. 

“I usually keep an eye out for anyone trying to trace us….” Lifting his head, Seokjin’s brows are knitted together, “and this computer looks like it was turned on by mistake.” 

At the sight of Namjoon’s puzzlement, he continues, “My best bet is that with Y/N delaying her activities and coming up with excuses, the L/N’s weren’t convinced and attempted to figure out her location without her knowledge.” 

Namjoon looks up in alarm, glancing in between Jimin and Seokjin. 

“How could they have reached Y/N then?” Jimin ponders, “Sure, her location must have been traced, but there’s no way that explains how she just disappeared.” 

“Unless they were keeping a close eye on her.” Namjoon suddenly glances at Jimin, “Are we so sure that this place is safe?” 

Something sparks in the latter’s irises, his form instantly revolving towards the door. 

Seokjin turns to him, crossing his arms. 

“Any idea if this is linked to whoever was after you?” 

He shakes his head, “This is personal. Y/N hasn’t been in contact for a while and her latest mission…” There’s a glint in his eyes, lips pressing together, “Well, we can just say it didn’t go as planned.” 

He rather not delve deep into the details of what conspired during the time you didn’t know he was aware of your identity, deciding to leave out the pieces of information that involved what you were being ordered to do. 

Seokjin quirks up an intrigued brow at the vagueness in his tone, but remains silent nonetheless. 

Jimin returns, out of breath with rounded eyes. 

“It might interest you to know that the floor above us has a broken window.” He quickly says, “But it’s not one that you can easily break into.” 

“Someone knew.” Seokjin immediately whispers, facing Jimin who shares his look of realization, “Someone knew on the inside and got to Y/N once they confirmed her location.”  

Jimin hums, eyes connecting with Namjoon’s. “This also means we’re not as safe as we would have hoped.” 

He nearly curses at himself, the whole catastrophe of needing to escape casting a thick veil over his eyes. However, he knows the current circumstance won’t allow for him to mull over his misfortune, rather it simply brings attention to what he needs to do at the moment. 

“We need to figure out where Y/N is.” Seokjin nods, “It doesn’t matter to me how you do it, just find her.” 

The latter doesn’t make a move to respond or coax him, instead he observes the screen and types frantically on the keyboard. Namjoon watches him from behind, his fists tightening. 

He can only pray that through this nest of a mayhem, you’re somehow alright. 

A deep groan escapes your lips. 

Sweat drips down from your temples as your head lulls to the side, lids wearily blinking. A strained cough leaves your mouth and you squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to focus your vision.

Once the room ceases to spin, the first thing that greets your pupils is the distorted sight of metal bars.

You bolt upright, scrambling towards them and wrapping your hands around the icy alloy. Peering around wild-eyed, a sudden jolt tugs you backwards and you can only stare in horror at the chain of metal that constrains you from behind. 

“You’re finally awake.” 

You swivel around, a man standing before you. 

Irises immediately enlarging, your breath hitches in your throat. You’re not sure if you should run, scream or stagger away, but as his footsteps begin to grow louder, all you can muster is barely concealing the need to cower behind the bars. 

He crouches down, staring directly at you. 

A smile curls at the corner of his lips. 

“It’s been a while, Y/N.” 

Your terrified gaze is locked onto his, “I heard you’ve been compromised.” His eyes narrow, “Do you recall what happens to spies that willingly expose their identity?” 

There’s a dead silence lingering in the air and he raises himself up, walking away from you. Lurching forward, your grasp on the metal bars tighten as you spill out the first thought in your mind. 

“I-I wasn’t compromised!” 

He turns around, a proud look radiating in his eyes, “You’re telling me Kim Namjoon doesn’t know who you really are?” 

You furiously shake your head, voice quivering, “My husband doesn’t know anything!” 

Although your actions and pressing need to prove yourself is evident, your words seem to spell out a different message. 

“Oh, so it’s your husband now?” 

Your stomach instantly sinks, mind becoming numb. Furiously blinking, you fumble around for a coherent response. 

He states the obvious, “You’ve been compromised, Y/N, and now we’ll need to target the Kim family in some other way.” 

You swallow hard, already knowing the implications behind those words. 

You’ve failed, meaning that they will need to send someone in that can successfully infiltrate this time around to replace you, perhaps with a different link that you can only assume would be Namjoon’s sister. 

But in doing so, they’ll need to dispose of you. 

The sound of metal startles you, and you suck in a deep breath. 

Eyes squeezing shut, you can only pray that you’ll somehow make it through the night. 

Namjoon can’t decide between if he’s extremely fortunate or downright out of luck. 

Extremely fortunate because Seokjin actually found you, managing just enough to trace back to your responder in time and securing a location that the latter is confident will lead to you. 

But downright out of luck, because you’re situated in a place that he truthfully has been wanting to avoid. 

It’s one of the central buildings the L/N’s have left, and the perfect place to shoot on sight if discovered. 

Trespassing into the area is similar to walking on a trail of blazing hot stones, but thankfully the three of them are able to successfully infiltrate. He acclaims Seokjin’s firm belief that you’re being stowed away underground ‒ a place that suggests to them otherwise not to get involved or bother searching areas aside from it. 

Seokjin speaks in a fast-paced ramble, whispering to them about an entryway. “The door shouldn’t be visible if you walked along the corridor, but there should be something that we can access th‒” 

He swiftly sinks down to the ground, a bullet glinting right over his head and creating a chip against the wall. 

“There they are!” A voice angrily shouts as a sigh slips out of him. 

“Ah, what a magnificent time to have some company.” Seokjin wistfully mutters, pulling out a gun from his suit’s jacket in an instant. Cocking the trigger back, he rapidly fires in the direction of the voice, barely flinching as more bullets whiz by him. 

Another gun joins him in the crossfire, eyeing him with a smirk, “You don’t think it would be especially considerate of them if they could assist us too?” 

Seokjin returns Jimin’s smile and promptly ceases his firing for a moment. A man suddenly charges towards them, but he’s immediately knocked over and pushed against a wall. 

Namjoon glares at him, tightly holding onto his hands before roughly shoving him closer to it.

Jimin aims his gun, cutting to the chase, “There’s a floor underneath us that we need access to.” 

It’s not an inquiry, rather a demand. The man appears petrified, shakingly gesturing towards one certain hall the three had passed by earlier. 

Seokjin’s eyes light up in recognition, and he inches closer, sending a nod in confirmation to the two. Namjoon makes eye contact with Jimin and in an instant, the man is released and thrown to the side. 

He carefully maneuvers to the implied hall as Jimin resumes his gunfire, a series of staircases being revealed once Seokjin pushes against the door. Upon getting a signal from Jimin, he dives in with the former. 

Seokjin immediately clasps a hand against his nose, hovering over it. Namjoon scrunches up his nose, failing to disregard the putrid smell leaking into the area. 

A large door obstructs their pathway, and Seokjin moves forward in haste to see if he can tap into it. However, Namjoon simply jabs his shoulder into the heavy metal, widening it enough for them to pass through. 

“Let’s go.” He mumbles. 

If he assumed the scent at the entrance was foul enough, he wasn’t prepared to experience the route through the passageway. Layers and layers of mold stick to the walls, growing expeditiously all the way over to the dampness that forms near the ceiling. Rather than being part of the building, his natural instinct is to assume the appearance to be akin to a sewage way, and it’s something he tries not to dwell on as he makes his way through it. 

“Hey Namjoon...” 

After moments of simply treading and trying to get through the ill space, Seokjin calls out to him from behind. His voice is oddly hesitant, but curious, “I tried not to pry into it too much, but how are we certain that we can trust Y/N?” 

It’s a question that he has many reassuring answers for, but as his mind spins, there’s one particular instance that he hasn’t been able to shake from his thoughts. He recalls the time he had pieced together what led to Taehyung and Eunjoo’s demise, and it was something that in the sincerest way, shook him to the core.

The memory is far too vivid, rendering him unable to forget the way it seemed like you were being endlessly tortured throughout the night. It was as if the nightmares were haunting you, drowning you within their terrors, all while you were pleading for it to be over. 

At the mere thought of it, chills run down his spine. He wonders if the memory somehow even plagues him to a certain degree, your suffering almost attributing as if it were his own. 

Life spreads through his orbs again, his lips moving to state the firm words. 

“Because she’s a tool.” He breathes, “Just like I am.”

Seokjin simply stares at him in silence, a sigh slipping from his lips. 

“Of course you had to go ahead and fall for a L/N.” 

Moving forward, he brushes past Namjoon who unabashedly smiles at the hint of amusement in his voice. As Seokjin advances, his gaze latches onto the door before him and he pulls against the handle.  

“It’s locked.” He exhales in frustration, a sound of dismay leaving Namjoon. He darts his gaze around, the sight of mold stricken walls clouding his view. Suddenly freezing, he slowly treads forward, his surveying eyes latching onto a large metal container above him. 

It’s like Seokjin can read his mind right away, roughly pushing against the material until it completely crumbles and collapses onto the ground. 

A lopsided grin surfaces on him, “Do you think you can get through?” 

Namjoon nods and Seokjin crouches down, aiding him as he hauls himself up into it. He manages to crawl through the narrow vent, wincing at the sharp pieces of metal that tear through his jacket, before wrapping his hands firmly around it and propelling himself forward. 

Metal crashes onto the ground as Namjoon nearly topples down, but he’s quick to dust himself off and chuckles at Seokjin’s astonished expression on the other side of the door. 

Leaning closer, he quietly yet hastily speaks, “I’ll find Y/N, try to keep them off my trail and figure out if you can get this door unlocked too.” He pushes against it roughly again, but to no avail does it open. 

Seokjin nods in confirmation, but there’s a slight twinkle in his eyes as he takes out his gun. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely not going to let Jimin have all the fun to himself.” 

The corner of his mouth lips up and Seokjin flashes him a smile. After bidding him good luck, Namjoon begins to increasingly quicken his pace, plunging into the centre of the mayhem. 

***

His chest is rapidly heaving, a sheen of sweat steadily building up on his temples and a hue of red colouring his skin. The gun in his hands stays firm within his hold, as if simply letting it go would cost him his life. His back is pressed against a wall, eyes sweeping back and forth, carefully surveying every inch of the area. 

He’s earnestly lost count, memory becoming fuzzy at the amount of times he encountered resistance in the midst of his sprinting, having either to forcefully create a path or a trail of blood in his wake. The liquid has splattered and exploded all over his suit, and save for the gun he grips, his entire attire is messy and tousled. 

But hope sparks within him in the search for light, carefully inching closer without revealing or compromising his position. Slightly leaning over, his scrutinizing eyes come to an immediate halt, breath hitching in his throat. 

In the far corner of the room, there is a small cell. And in that cell, is you. 

Although relief immediately cascades through Namjoon from your faint appearance, his orbs roam around and it’s only then does he realize the condition you’re in. 

Your form is slumped against the metal bars, resembling a limp doll whose strings have been pulled far too much than anything. Bruises litter the length of your arms, the scent of freshly spilled blood wafting through the air. Dried pools of the liquid stick to the ground beneath you, and shallow breath escapes you by the minute, barely hanging onto any thread of strength. 

His throat tightens and even though he desperately wants to look away, he forces himself not to. 

Death would have been a better option. 

The thought hauntingly echoes in his mind, and it’s only when the sound of heavy footsteps against the tiled ground that he breaks out of it, head snapping ahead and attempting to capture a glance of who did this to you. 

“So are you going to tell me, or not?” He taps against the bars for your attention, but you barely move. He crouches down, showcasing the gun within his grasp, “Your insight is important to us, Y/N.” 

Namjoon knits his brows together. It’s almost like a warning ‒ uncannily somewhat similar to a teacher scolding his student after they’ve misbehaved. 

Suddenly, his eyes widen as a thought flashes through his mind. 

You’re thankfully still alive, but why? Why even have the need to keep you like this, dangling on the slim chance of survival instead of ending it all? 

The answer is confirmed for him when the man taps against your bars again, this time more aggressive. “Tell me, Y/N.” 

They need information about him from you, but you’ve refused to cooperate. 

Another shallow breath leaves your lips and you crane your head to the side, as if not even wanting to spare him a glance. The increasing frustration on your capturer’s expression is evident enough, but the action seems to break his late fine strand of patience as he rises to his heels, cocking the trigger back on his gun. 

Namjoon’s eyes shoot up in alarm when your arm is tugged and the gun is pointed against your temples, swiftly moving forward without another thought. 

His gun is raised and there’s a forceful tone in his voice that screams of rage, “Take your aim off of her.” 

The man swivels, clearly taken aback with the sudden intrusion ‒ but Namjoon sees it so transparently. The way his mouth drops down with astonishment, the way his eyes light up in recognition and the way the gun still points towards you, recognition forming into resentment.  

He chuckles, like Namjoon’s actions were a joke to him. Peering down at you in amusement, he grins.

“You’re protecting her? The Kim Namjoon?” He laughs again, stating the fact as if Namjoon is completely oblivious, “This pesky snitch is a spy created by the L/N’s.”

Namjoon’s eyes trail down, coming straight into contact with your own. They’re filled with utter relief and somber gratitude, your orbs practically brimming at the sight of him as he feels his chest tightening all over again. 

He grits his teeth, not moving the slightest, “I won’t ask again.” 

The man before him furrows his brows, displeased with his response. Before he can shift his aim over to Namjoon, the latter barely hesitates in plunging a bullet into his arm. 

A scream leaves his lips and Namjoon charges forward, slamming his elbow straight into the wound he’s created. The man continues to grimace in pain, but his hands abruptly shoot out, wrapping around Namjoon’s neck. 

Namjoon gasps, the gun in his hands slipping out from his hold. He’s pinned to the ground, the man’s strength being a compelling force against his air supply. 

The sound of chains jingling alerts him right away as he chokes, his teeth gritting as he sharply jabs his knee into the man’s abdomen, resulting in him wincing and freeing Namjoon’s throat. He barely takes a moment to recover, grasping onto his gun instantly and taking aim. 

One bullet. Two bullets. Three bullets. Namjoon can’t remember how many times he’s fired, the faint blur of blood spilling and metal piercing into the man’s skin barely hindering his cold hardened gaze. The man eventually collapses onto the ground, lifeless as crimson continues to drip out and coat the steel floor. 

Namjoon remains frozen in place, chest rising and falling. 

The clatter of metal results in him snapping his head up, dark gaze falling onto your horror stricken one in a matter of minutes. He begins to walk closer to you and for a moment, you can’t help but stagger back, heart racing so fast that you feel like it might burst. 

He breaks the silence with a hushed whisper, “You know, no matter how you look at it….we’re very alike.” 

A cracked smile surfaces on his lips as he passes by you, rummaging through the table opposite to your cell. 

You swallow hard, continuing to listen. 

“Our families, they’ll never allow us to live for ourselves.” Swiveling around, he paces towards your cell, “Slaves, tools.....I can’t even come up with a kinder word to describe it.” 

He chuckles, but it comes out too strained as he crouches near your cell, slotting the metal piece in.

“But one thing that won’t ever change,” The metallic frame reels open, “is that you will always be my wife.” 

His hand reaches out, a warm tone residing within his eyes. You can’t tell if it’s the way he gestures towards you, or the way your heart keeps feeling like it might rupture any moment, but you crawl and staggers towards him in a frenzy, tears bursting from your eyes as once you topple over into his arms. 

He embraces you with a sigh of relief and you believe the action is exactly how you feel in that moment ‒ content and utterly relieved. You don’t recall how long it’s been since you’ve been in his arms, harsh sobs escaping you that he doesn’t immediately coax, instead allowing you to alleviate yourself.

It’s not until you break apart that Namjoon swipes away the remaining water with his thumbs, smiling at you softly as you attempt to calm down. He carefully holds your hand, rising up to his feet as he attempts to help you up. 

You clasp onto his suit right away, pulling him down anxiously. Namjoon stares at you in confusion, but the words that tumble out of your lips are enough to stir terror in his orbs. 

“I-I can’t move….” You whisper and that’s when he notices. The way you remained on the ground as you were being interrogated, the way you inevitably staggered as you desperately tried to crawl to him, the way your legs are soaked with red, long gashes marked all over your skin. 

Namjoon can’t explain how petrified he is, how you simply choose to look away, distinctly aware of the pain and the horrifying appearance they’ve taken on. 

He doesn’t respond or make a comment on them, instead choosing to simply lean over and putting his neck within your reach. After a moment of struggle, you loop your arms around and he presses a hand against your back and knees, effortlessly lifting you. 

You remain silent as Namjoon carefully guides you back to the path he had taken, being mindful of your immobile legs as he walks through the narrow ends. He soon reaches the door that he and Seokjin had gotten stuck on, and the latter is present with Jimin, their rumpled appearance being on par with Namjoon’s. 

Unlike him, Seokjin and Jimin seem flabbergasted with your appearance, “What happened?” 

Namjoon simply shakes his head as you remain quiet, gesturing towards Jimin, “How is it up there?” 

“There’s still plenty of them,” He breathes, “We can cover for you.” 

Namjoon nods and the two of them stand in front of him, pulling out their guns and cocking back the triggers. You notice Namjoon stiffens and his hold on you suddenly tightens, but you realize why exactly once you make it from underground and get back onto the ground floor. 

Bullets are flying left and right, the sound of shouting threatening to tear your ears in half. Seokjin quickly gestures to a pathway, and Namjoon follows through, frantically sprinting. 

In an instant he crouches down at the sight of someone, covering the two of you up. A hiss leaves your lips and he leans in closer, concern twisted in his features. 

“Y/N?” He whispers and you shake your head, bringing a hand to your temples. It’s almost like your head is burning, a painful blazing sensation radiating and pulsing through from all corners. It blurs your vision for a brief moment, drawing out unconscious tears. 

“M-My head, I‒ ah.” You wince again and Namjoon presses the back of his hand against your forehead, expression contorting into a mixture of worry and confusion at the scorching temperature. 

His hand instantly drops at the sound of a voice, but it disappears just as quickly and he peers around, noticing the coast is clear. Hauling you up again, he rushes through the pathway, heading out the building in time. 

After finally meeting up with Seokjin and Jimin, Namjoon takes you back to the house. Seokjin ponders over your absence and you reveal the knowledge of how you were suddenly cornered by a handful of servants, something that draws concern to his eyes and that he attempts to diffuse right away. Jimin takes it upon himself to treat your wounds as you hiss and wince in retaliation, sending you apologetic smiles in the midst of the process.

He gladly informs you that your wounds don’t appear to be too severe, but that it would take time for you to fully recuperate from the injuries. There’s still a faint throbbing that lingers in your head, but you starting to think the constant agony your body has gone through is resulting in your body demanding for some rest. 

You’re seated on the edge of the bed as Jimin departs, long strips of gauzes wrapped around your arms and legs. Namjoon, who has been idling by the door during the process, instantly walks over to you once you’re finished being tended to. 

He sits right next to you, hand reaching out on instinct to intertwine with yours. A smile arises at the corner of your lips from the gesture, but you notice his gaze is fixated on the tight bindings on your limbs, and you’re compelled to coax his concerns. 

“Namjoon, I‒” You don’t get the chance to continue, his lips brushing against yours in an instant. 

You practically melt into his embrace, his lips fervently but delicately moving against yours with haste. As your lips part, a content sigh leaves him, evoking small butterflies to flutter and dance around within your chest. 

His hand presses against the small of your back and you steady yourself, your hands resting against him. It’s only when his head tilts that you can feel the gratifying warmth of his skin, a blissful ray casting over you. 

It intensifies; his mouth probing more and growing bolder as you let him, desiring nothing more. But that’s when the searing pang shoots through you, clouding your vision and snatching you away from the ecstasy. 

Namjoon is suddenly pushed back with a shove, lips swollen and eyes captured in a daze. 

A splatter of red coats the white floors. 

Namjoon’s confused gaze is all over you, pupils dilating and frantic. Your scarlet hands shakingly hover over your mouth as a rapid cluster of wheezing coughs thrum through your ribcage. 

He reaches out for you, but it’s too late as your feeble body suddenly crashes onto the ground and all he can do is desperately cry out your name.

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (2)

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you've been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you're really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 2!!! i cant figure out how to link the first part properly but if you know how pls slide into my dms and teach me hehe you can find part 1 at my tumblr profile. thank you for the love on the first chapter!!! 🥺 i'll do my best!!! NEXT | PREVIOUS

As soon as you're out of the view, Hoseok immediately swung an arm around Yoongi's shoulder. He was delighted for his friend, afterall, it has been a while since he was in a relationship.

Yoongi took what happened to heart. Namjoon noticed, it didn't take a genius to. He warningly eyed Hoseok who pretended not to see him. The mint haired boy shrugged off the hand and faced them.

"It's your fault, Hoba." He sighed, using the nickname they had for their energetic friend. "She's a senior and isn't around the campus much but news here spread like wildfire. I don't want her to think—" he continued but Hoseok cut him off.

"Think what? Listen, Yoongi. It's over between you two, it has been for a long time. I think it's time you quit moping and start giving yourself a chance to be happy again." This made Yoongi snap his head towards him. Hoseok may be chatty but he always knew not to cross that line. Both him and Namjoon did. What happened was considered taboo and was never spoken about, no matter how long ago it was.

"What did that Y/N feed you? Aren't I your friend here?" He challenged. Hoseok was about to answer when Namjoon intervened. He patted both of the men on the shoulder to kill the tension arising.

"Let's head to rehearsals, please. I don't want to be the receiving end of Mrs. Lee's anger today."

The auditorium was crowded, all students that are part of the recital are scattered around. Since the trio are all helping the backstage crew, they immediately went to their place and settled in.

"Where have you guys been?" Mijin whispered. They all shrugged in return, she wouldn't rat them out. Knowing well that she would do anything to cover up for Yoongi. Though she acts nonchalant about it, she has been crushing on him since their freshmen years.

"Just do your job and don't fuck this up. Please." She pleaded. All the trio did was nod.

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

You are now banging your head on the library table, earning looks from the other students who are procrastinating due to the upcoming finals. If the stake wasn't this high, you wouldn't be this stressed about it. You mentally scold yourself for acting so bold that day. For all you know, Yoongi might be a secret genius and that leaves you making a damn fool out of yourself not only in front of Hoseok and Namjoon but the entire campus aswell.

News of your mess spread quickly, the girl who wore thick-glasses and ugly sweaters asking the ace of the Music department out. You try and avoid their stares and focused on your notes. Praying to the heavens that you at least score decent enough if not scoring higher than Yoongi.

At this point, you don't even bother for the date. You just want to do your best. That is until it was time for your Humanities class again. Your hands are clammy as the test paper are handed out. You prepared for the test but somehow, your heart is pounding out of your chest.

You easily navigate through the questions but one left you confused. You try to recall the answer for a good five minutes but eventually gave up. If you don't know it now, you'll probably not know it later. That is until all papers have been passed and it was time to exit the classroom that a lightbulb went off in your head.

"Plato." you whine. The answer was Plato. You rub your fingers to your temple and let out a frustrated groan.

"Y/N!" a voice you recognise to be Hoseok called out. Honestly, you don't want to face them today. You are embarrassed still, and you're sure if looks could kill, you'd be dead at how Yoongi is shooting glares in your direction.

You adjust your backpack and offered a wave.

"Do you already know where you want to go for the date?" Namjoon teased. Hoseok laughed beside him, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"Oh," You sigh. "I don't think I'd be able to go on that date."

That made Yoongi look up at you. He should be relieved, he thought. But he was more intrigued as to why you decided against the bet.

"I forgot the answer to Test II, number 5. I left it blank instead, however when I remembered the answer, the papers were already collected." Not that Yoongi cared, but you seemed sad to not be able to go on that date.

"Think positive, Y/N. The deal was to score higher not to have a perfect score." Hoseok encouraged.

"It's okay, what matters was that I tried. I know Yoongi will ace the test. Specially when the stake was a date with me." you shrugged nonchalantly.

You moved towards him and held out a hand. He eyed it skeptically before lifting his arm to shake it.

"Wait! The results are not out yet!" Namjoon whined. If he was initially opposed to this, he no longer was. He was just as invested as Hoseok was. Pushing you to win against Yoongi.

You laughed and took a step back. "Alright then. If I do win, I want to go to Lotte World."

"You haven't been there?" Hoseok asked. You shook your head.

"I came from Daegu. This is my first time in Seoul and I haven't been able to roam around due to our classes. Besides, I don't see the point entirely but if I would go on a date, I would like it to be there."

Yoongi pretended to not pay attention. It made sense that you were not from the metro. The way you dress and your things are certainly not what a typical college student would wear to the campus. To add to that, he now does notice an accent from the way you speak.

"Namjoon!" a voice called over. It was Mijin, if you recall correctly, she was also part of the rehearsals the trio attended. Hoseok introduced the both of you the first time you had lunch with them. Taking that as a cue to leave, you gathered your things and went home.

The week flew by and before you know it, it was time for the exam results. You were dreading to attend class but not wanting to look like a sore loser, you got ready for the day.

Yoongi subconsciously kept track of the days too. Instead of practicing and attending rehearsals, he found himself too caught up with waiting for the results. He tried to convince himself that he just wants to ensure that you two never go on that date but he isn't really sure.

His heart was pounding out of his chest as he lay down his bed. He was one of the few lucky ones who doesn't have a roommate. Hoseok and Namjoon were, on the otherhand. Deciding to take the day off, he doesn't really give a fuck if he wins or loses the bet. With that, he turned and covered his head with a pillow, trying to fall back asleep.

"Pay up." Yoongi groaned as he hears Hoseok's voice inside his dorm. Namjoon chuckled and called out to Yoongi.

"Hey, I put my bet on you! Hoba told me you'd be too chicken to attend class today and I didn't believe him but seeing it for myself," he trailed off. Yoongi blindy threw his pillow at the two boys maniacally laughing to his side.

"Get up and get dressed. We're going to be late." Namjoon ordered.

Yoongi decided to not bother arguing with them. He knows he won't be able to get out of this so might as well get it done and over with.

Walking to class was annoying for Yoongi. With Hoseok waving the money Namjoon paid him with in Yoongi's face and dreading the results of the exam. He was fucking frustrated.

You came into view, trying to insert yourself into the crowd of people. Trying to get a view of the results. You failed, being lanky and small. You huff, to which Yoongi watched in amusement. You were something, he thought.

"Y/N!" Hoseok beamed and Namjoon followed. Yoongi trailed behind.

"Oh, I haven't seen the results. I'm waiting for the crowd to die down." You explained. Hoseok, excited to know the results, held onto you and helped you squeeze into the bodies of students trying to get a glimpse of their grade.

Yoongi's eyes trailed from Hoseok's hand that was holding onto both of your arms from behind. He knew that his friend was just eager to know the results in order to rub it in his face but the contact of skin made him feel as if it's something he shouldn't be seeing. It felt as if his eyes were interrupting something.

You seemed uncomfortable, he noted. Hoseok was one to be physically comfortable around people. With occasional brushes of hands or an arm around shoulders, you can always expect it from him. Yoongi knew this but he was still somehow bothered by it.

"Yoongi." He was snapped out of his daze when you called for him. He saw your tiny figure offer him a hand.

"Congratulations, Yoongi. It was a great bet." You spoke calmly. He wondered what the results were. To confirm, he didn't shake your hands but instead took a look at it for himself.

FINALS RESULT SY 20XX-20XX

1. Kim Namjoon -100/100

2. Min Yoongi and L/N F/N - 99/100

3. --------------

4. --------------

5. --------------

6. --------------

7. Jung Hoseok -89/100

8. --------------

9. --------------

10. --------------

His eyes widened. He realised you congratulated him because technically, you didn't score higher than him. You didn't win.

Hoseok and Namjoon was chatting with you, patting your back as you smiled at them in return. Assuring them that it's okay and you'll go to Lotte World another time.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Hoba and I would bring you to Lotte World soon!" Namjoon beamed.

You laughed in glee and thanked both of them.

You were about to walk away when Yoongi did something he didn't expect.

"Meet me at the campus gate, 9:00am tomorrow. Don't be late."

With that, Yoongi turned and left. Leaving you with your mouth hanging open, Hoseok and Namjoon smiling at you as they try to catch up with their friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT | PREVIOUS

[nano--raptor]

On Time Arrangement

Pairing: Professor Charles Blackwood x College TJ Hammond

Words: 1880

Warnings: Professor/Student relationship, smut, oral sex (m rec), dirty talk, praise, cursing, slight degredation and name calling (slut), TJ is mid 20s’s and Charles is mid-late 30’s.

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ Long Distance Love weekend! One of the prompt ideas was college AU, and I wanted to write character student this time, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to write these two together😏 Thanks for reading!❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

I do NOT authorize my work to be copied, translated or reposted in ANY way.

18+ ONLY. This post contains mature subject matter. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you agree that you are 18+. Do not interact if you are under the age of 18.

TJ arrived to class a split second after the bell rang, slipping through the door just as it was closing. He hurried to take his seat a few rows back in the lecture hall, hoping his prof wouldn’t notice. 

If he could be so lucky. Professor Blackwood stood at the front of the hall, waiting not so patiently for everyone to settle down, starting into his lecture less than a minute after the bell rang, expecting everyone to be ready to start at the sound of the bell. That is when the class began, after all.

After a few opening remarks and introduction of the day’s topic, he paused, critical eyes scanning the room. TJ gulped, hoping he’d escape his professor’s wrath today, but those icy blue eyes paused, lingering on TJ’s own, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Dammit. TJ squirmed, fidgeting with his pen and finally crossing his legs, and he swore he saw the briefest hint of a smirk before his professor turned away, starting into the lecture.

TJ could barely concentrate, but he did his best, trying to take notes and focus on the lesson. Before he knew it, the 90 minute period was over and the bell was ringing again. He packed up his things and stood to leave the hall, Professor Blackwood’s voice cutting through the mulling of students as TJ neared the door, sending a tingle down his spine. “Mr. Hammond. I expect to see you at my office at 4pm to make up for your tardiness.”

Shit.

TJ shifted anxiously on his feet as he stood outside the large oak door, checking his phone until the time read exactly 4pm, before knocking lightly on the aged wood. This wasn’t the first time he’d met his professor in his office, but his nerves nearly got the best of him every time. The door swung open with force and TJ started, Professor Blackwood’s piercing eyes meeting his for just a moment before he stepped back, walking towards his desk. TJ followed him in and closed the door, flicking the lock, before stepping in further. He paused in front of the large wooden desk, nearly an antique, and clasped his hands together.

“So,” his professor, Charles, started. “Late again today, Mr. Hammond.” TJ nibbled his bottom lip, not having a good excuse whatsoever. He’d overslept, dashed to class and literally ran through the hall to make it on time, and still ended up missing the bell. Fraction of a second or not, in Blackwood’s class, late was late.

“I’m sorry, Professor Blackwood, sir,” TJ started, holding Charles’ gaze despite his nerves. Charles sat back in his chair with a hum, fingers steepled, keeping his eyes locked on TJ's with the slightest smirk on his lips. He’d removed his suit jacket that he’d worn earlier, it hung neatly on a coat rack by the door. The calm nature in which he held himself both intrigued and terrified TJ. He never knew what to expect from this man.

“I’m sure you are,” he drawled. “Did you even catch any of the lecture today, or were you too distracted?” TJ winced; he’d tried to pay attention, but the glare he’d received at the beginning of class had thrown him off, and Charles knew it. He’d done it on purpose. 

“I was listening, sir, I -”

“Well why don’t you go over the main points then,” Charles suggested, his tone a little darker, knowing that TJ wouldn’t be able to recall all the points off the top of his head. 

“Sir, I - I haven’t had time to review my notes.” “Ah. Of course not.” He paused, tapping his fingers together, clearly enjoying the way his gaze made TJ squirm. “Do you have something else in mind then, Mr. Hammond?” TJ’s gaze flicked back up to meet his professor’s, the blush already creeping up his neck to his cheeks as he nodded slowly. Yes, he did have something else in mind, but he wanted Charles to say it, just like he did every time TJ made an office visit. 

TJ just nibbled his lip, wringing his hands together and dropping his gaze again. He knew Charles loved it. Loved the little back and forth, the hard to get, the innocence ploy that TJ was so very good at. Charles clenched his jaw and raised an eyebrow, playing his own game that made TJ’s cock twitch. Oh how he loved it. But he wouldn’t dare ask for it, this was always in Charles’ court, in his control.

It was exactly what TJ wanted.

“Come here.” It was a command, a lower and more stern tone than he would ever use in class, and TJ swallowed hard as the sound rolled through him, making his skin prickle. He walked slowly towards the desk, stopping around the side just a few feet from Charles. The other man just smiled, his eyes flashing, his low voice rolling through TJ again. “Closer, Mr. Hammond. What are you doing way over there.” TJ bit his lip hard to hold in the groan, stepping closer still until he stood between Charles’ spread thighs. Oh the thoughts he’d had about these thighs. It was sinful.

“Now,” Charles began as his hands moved to his belt. “What if you put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, hm?” Slowly, painfully slowly, he opened his belt, undoing the buckle, sliding it open and letting it drop, his hands now reaching up to his tie. Dark lashes practically fluttered as he loosened it, and TJ nearly groaned again, feeling the heat pool between his legs. Something about Charles and his fingers and they way moved so smoothly, nimbly, TJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about those fingers either. 

With a shy, sultry smile, TJ slowly sank down to his knees between Charles’ legs, placing his hands on toned thighs and sliding them upwards. Charles was looking down at him now with a possessive glint in his eyes, watching as TJ’s hands ghosted over his crotch, lightly brushing over the bulge in his pants, before undoing the button and slowly pulling the zipper down. TJ palmed him through his underwear, biting into his bottom lip again as he pulled the waistband down to free Charles’ impressive length from the confines of the fabric. He licked his lips then, glancing up at Charles through his own dark lashes, pulling the perfect puppy dog eyes that he knew the other man loved.

“Look at you, so eager…” Charles mused, his voice trailing off as TJ leaned in, licking a stripe up his cock and pulling a groan from him as he closed his lips around the red, aching tip. TJ knew Charles loved his mouth on him, he’d done it enough times to have already figured out what his professor liked. Sometimes he wished they could have more time, the opportunity to explore each other further, and really find out what drove Charles wild.

TJ licked over Charles’ length again before swallowing him down, pulling another deep moan from the other man, sending a shiver straight to his own cock, already straining in his jeans. He moaned around him, and Charles rolled his hips up further into TJ’s mouth in return. When he bumped against the back of TJ’s throat, he just hummed, breathing through his nose as he swallowed around him, Charles muttering curses above him.

“Shit, you’re far too good at that…”

TJ’s hands wandered further up Charles’ thighs, squeezing and massaging, and as they neared his hips, TJ wished he could grab Charles’ ass, his naked ass, and pull him deeper, wondering what it would feel like in his hands. He moaned at the thought, causing Charles to jerk his hips forward. TJ looked back up at him as he swallowed around him again.

Watching Charles fall apart for him, from just his mouth, filled TJ with pride, it excited him. He wanted more, he wanted Charles to fuck him over the desk, he wanted to sit in his lap, he wanted to be in his bed. He wasn’t sure how far this might go, but he’d blown him before, and every time it made him rock hard, and Charles would cup his face and brush his cheek and tell him how much of a slut he was, on his knees getting hard without being touched. TJ loved it. 

Charles’ hand found it’s way into TJ’s hair and tugged, TJ moaning around his cock at the slight pain. Harder. He doubled his efforts and was rewarded with the hand clenching, pulling deliciously on his hair, digging his own fingers into his professor’s thighs. Charles groaned, leaning his head back and bucking further into TJ’s mouth.

“You and that mouth, it’s so goddamn good. You like when I use it, don’t you. That’s why you keep showing up late for my class. You just want me to fuck your pretty mouth like this.” TJ whined around him, saliva starting to run down his chin. He was sure he looked like a mess, but Charles’ words were making him hot, so hot, his hips started jerking too, wishing he had some friction to relieve himself.

He glanced up at Charles and moaned again at the sight. Cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes closed. His usually well-styled hair had fallen loose, a few strands falling into his face, and TJ longed to run his hands through that caramel hair. When Charles spoke, his voice was a deep, gravelly tremor that shot straight to TJ’s gut, but seeing him sitting there panting, almost on the edge of orgasm, it made TJ desperate to cum too. He wanted to beg for it, but it was impossible with his mouth full. So he just whined, shifting at Charles’ feet, gripping his thighs again.

“Oh yeah baby, there it is, keep going, you wanna come too? My dumb little slut, on his knees just begging for it. So fucking good, come on, ah!” TJ sucked hard at Charles’ words, feeling a heat rush through him and he bucked his hips, nearly cumming untouched, as Charles came with a groan, straight down TJ’s throat.

He couldn't help the ways his hips rolled while he curled his tongue, still sucking gently, his cock painfully hard, while Charles rode out his orgasm. TJ wanted it too, moaning around him, the sight of this gorgeous man getting off making TJ hot beyond words. He couldn't wait to get his own hands on himself, fueled by thoughts of what he wanted Charles to do to him. Lost in the fantasy, he was quickly pulled out of his daze by Charles' low voice, and he blinked up at him with glassy eyes while licking up the last of his release.

“Look at you. I’m starting to think this is more of a reward for you rather than a punishment. That just won’t do anymore, rewarding you for being late.” Then he leaned forward, gripping TJ’s chin and wiping the mess from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his words sending a delicious chill down TJ's spine. “If you ever want this again, I suggest you be a good boy and show up on time for my class."

* follow @nano--raptor-writes​ for my taglist! *

[thathopelessromantic]

Reckless Good (2/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Fic Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Note: Part of the @tododekubigbang for 2021! I’m super excited to share this AU with everyone. And please check out the awesome compaion art from @cryptidcatgod for chapter six!

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Chapter One: (X)

“You agreed?” Kyouka all but shouts into the phone. Despite her over-the-top reaction, Shouto’s still not sure who is more surprised out of the two of them.

“I didn’t exactly agree. I just didn’t…say no.” Even as he says it, Shouto is aware that from him that is basically an agreement. God what was he getting himself into?

Kyouka is talking rapidly but he’s not entirely sure that she’s talking to him. The range of emotions she seems to be going through is impressive, though. Finally, she takes a deep breath and asks, “You’re going to talk about your family?”

Shouto sinks to the ground outside the building and leans against a tree. He hasn’t put back any of his “protective” civilian clothing and there’s a good chance of him being seen by more students, but he doesn’t have the energy to move again just yet.

“He didn’t ask me to talk about my family,” he finally admits. It’s stupid, he doesn’t even care about this kind of thing, but it wasn’t until he said it out loud that he realized how relieved he is that someone wants to talk about something – anything - other than that. “He wants me to talk about my quirk.”

They sit in silence together for a few moments. Shouto can hear the muffled sound of Momo talking to Kyouka in the background, likely asking what the hell was going on. Kyouka doesn’t seem to know what to say about this revelation, or the breathless way Shouto is talking about it, so she settles with, “So I guess he’s not a fame-hungry douchebag?”

The idea of Kyouka calling the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed professor that almost makes Shouto smile – almost. “No, I don’t think he is.”

“Huh,” Kyouka sounds almost as surprised as he is. “So, this is good, right? That you agreed?”

“Uh, I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

Kyouka snorts, but at least she sounds more like herself and not as off-kilter as he still feels. “Think you’ll know by Friday? Momo wants you to come over for dinner.”

Shouto shakes his head. “I doubt it but, sure. Thanks.”

“Good luck, Todoroki.”

They end the call with promises to try to talk down Momo from the interrogation she’s probably already planning (from Kyouka) and the chocolate cake from Sato’s bakery for dessert on Friday (from Shouto).

 X

Shouto wouldn’t say he was waiting for the professor’s email, but after the third comment on his surprisingly frequent use of the phone, he forces himself to push the meeting from the previous day from his mind and focus on work. He and Momo started their agency in Musutafu together a few years ago, and as the only senior-hero in the office for the night, he needed to set a good example. Especially when Monarch, a sidekick who had followed him when he left Gang Orca’s agency to start on his own, was in the office too, and had no qualms about tattling on his weird behavior to Momo.

At least the others were still a little too intimidated to cross him, though he had a feeling he could only rely on that hero-worship for a little while longer. There were only so many times you could watch someone put their hero-suit on backwards or accidentally salt their coffee before you stopped fearing standing up to them.

Most of the night is rather easy after pushing the email from his mind. Patrols are pretty much standard. The lack of activity means most everyone who was in for the night could relax, or make a good dent in any paperwork or reports piling up after busier days.

Until the alert for a villain attack comes in.

Shouto rushes out at the first alert, accompanied by one of their newest sidekicks, Sunspot, but by the time they reach the site of the attack, the radio is a flurry of activity, and his pager from the agency beeped with at least three more alerts.

Downtown is a disaster area. The evening traffic is backed up for miles, and cars in the few blocks closest to the fight have all been abandoned. At least one building is already rubble, and two more look on the brink of falling.

“This is Entropy, where-” before Shouto can finish his offer of help, he recognizes Chargebolt’s voice cutting through the chatter.

One of the villains is headed towards the Rainbow bridge! he yells over the radio. He has a hostage!

Shouto takes off towards the bridge before he has even finished speaking, throwing an order for Sunspot to rendezvous with the paramedics gathering on the fringes to help with the injured as he leaves.

“What’s the quirk?” He asks, aware even as he does that he might have to go into the fight blind.

There are three! What are you talking about? Someone he doesn’t recognize snaps over the line.

Entropy, thank God, Ingenium’s voice drowns out the cursing. It’s hard to isolate them, they’ve been working in tandem but the one headed towards the bridge seems to be able to melt things – organic and inorganic material both. Be careful.

The bridge comes into view, and there is the fleeing villain, zipping unencumbered through the streets on what almost looks like lava, bubbling and expanding under their feet.

Shouto throws up a wall of ice a few feet away. It won’t stop them, especially if it is lava under them, but it could slow them down at least for a moment. He doesn’t see the hostage Chargebolt had mentioned until he gets closer. It is a terrified looking child, bundled against the villain’s chest, wrapped in some kind of bindings that keep it from fighting the hold or screaming for help. The bindings look sickeningly like Aizawa-sensei’s old capture weapon and if it is even a little similar, Shouto knew there was no way the child would be able to get out on their own.

“Stop!” Shouto calls, throwing up more ice. He blocks the villain in on all sides, but the bottom of the ice is already beginning to melt before he has all the walls up.

The villain finally looks up to where Shouto stands on the top of one of his melting blocks of ice. Their face is covered by a traditional kabuki mask, and when they laugh the familiar robotic sound tells him they are using a voice modulator.

“Entropy! This ice won’t hold me forever!”

It doesn’t have to be forever, Shouto thinks, reinforcing the bottom of the ice, just long enough for backup to arrive. Normally he could encase the villain in ice, limit their movements just in case and, if he was lucky, cool them off enough that they couldn’t melt it fast enough – assuming their quirk was even heat based – but he doesn’t have enough information now, and there is too much of a risk with the child hostage involved. He hates fights like this. He’d never been good at trying to negotiate with villains, and there was too much risk for his usual long-range fighting style.

He has an idea, but it is a risk. It is a dumb risk. And he prays if he dies down there Momo isn’t actually powerful enough to somehow revive him just to kill him again for his stupidity. But he jumps off the ice, landing a few feet from the villain. He sinks a few inches into the goop surrounding them. It helps absorb some of the shock of his landing, but already he can feel the oppressive heat rising from the ground. His boots are steaming a little, but so far, the heat protected material is holding up. Hopefully it will be enough.

The closer he gets to the villain the hotter the air becomes, and he can feel his right side trying to help regulate his body temperature.

“Give me the child,” He demands. “They shouldn’t be a part of this.”

The villain laughs again, but their voice comes out more muffled and sluggish than before. He has a feeling whatever support equipment they were using hadn’t been designed to withstand this kind of heat for so long.

“That’s what you don’t understand, hero. They are the reason for this!”

Shouto tries to look reassuring as the small child stares pleadingly at him, muffled cries coming from behind their bindings, though he isn’t sure if he is successful.

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re the key!” The villain yells, squeezing the child closer to their body, and Shouto hates to see the way they squirm uncomfortably. “A hero like you with a perfect quirk could never understand! Though I suppose, even you aren’t invincible, are you?” The villain swipes at their mask with their free hand, leaving a dark, sooty handprint over the left eye-slit of their mask. “How much heat can you really withstand?”

Shouto ducks out of the way just as the villain sends up a wave of melted material where he had been standing seconds before. The ice wall behind him sizzles at the contact, melting away a perfect person-sized opening.

Shouto holds up a hand, ready to throw up more ice before the villain can break through the weakened wall, when from the other side Ingenium and Mr. Smith burst through. Shouto propels himself upwards with ice, grabbing Ingenium at the last moment as Mr. Smith hardens the melted material around them, trapping the villain’s feet in the stiffened rock. Shouto drops them both back down and Ingenium shoots off towards the villain. Ingenium throws a punch, and hand-to-hand combat might not be his strongest selling point as a hero, but the villain is already at a disadvantage trying to hold onto the child. At least with the confirmation that they had kidnapped them intentionally, rather than just as leverage or protection, it meant they were less likely to do something that would hurt the child.

The rock around the villain’s feet is already beginning to melt again, but Shouto wraps ice around their legs, keeping them immobile enough for Mr. Smith to catch up, stiffening the villain’s shirt as they lift an arm to defend against Ingenium. They wave their hand uselessly, unable to move their arms much more in the cast around them. Shouto reaches for the child, carefully wiggling them out from the villain’s trapped arm. They catch his arm as he extracts the child, however, and his shout of pain is drowned out only by the villain’s own anguished scream.

“This isn’t over,” they promise. And then their entire body begins to melt. The three heroes reach for them, but Mr. Smith and Ingenium’s gloves catch on fire before they even make contact with the melting body. Shouto’s ice is absorbed into the goopy mess and in a few seconds, it was as if the villain had never been standing there at all.

“Shit,” Mr. Smith swears. He glances over at the child in Shouto’s arms and winces. “Sorry.”

Shouto nods to him, agreeing with the sentiment regardless, before taking a few steps away. He cradles the child close to his chest, wishing she didn’t feel so small, wishing there was something he could do about the way she trembled.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says softly, shifting her in his arms. He tests the bindings around her torso, but they don’t give. “You’re safe, and we’re going to get you out of this.”

“I can help.”

Shouto looks up at the new voice. A hero, presumably, stands before him, but he doesn’t recognize the newcomer. Their face is covered by a dark helmet, tinted glass hiding even their eyes. Their costume is a simple dark green bodysuit, but a tool belt at their waist boasts a truly impressive number of gadgets.

Shouto holds the girl closer to his body and looks the other person over. The other hero seems to understand his hesitance and reaches for something in their tool belt. Shouto shifts his weight, prepared to run if this interaction turns sour.

“Architect!” Ingenium calls, running up besides them. “I didn’t realize you were working.”

The stranger, Architect apparently, nods a greeting to Ingenium. “I was at the hospital checking on something when the attacks started so I came out to see if I could help.” He turns back to Shouto. “I was just about to introduce myself to Entropy so I could help with the bindings.”

“Architect is part of the support team at All Might-er, Lemillion’s agency,” Ingenium explains to Shouto. “He’s a friend.”

Architect produces a small pair of scissors from his tool belt. The blades are jagged and look dangerous, but he handles them carefully, finding a space away from any exposed skin.

“This will be a little uncomfortable,” he tells the young girl in a gentle voice. “But it will be over in a flash.”

The scissors don’t seem to actually cut through the bindings, but the jagged blades get caught in the rough fabric, pulling at it tightly as he moves them. The girl twists in Shouto’s arm with a quiet whimper, but a moment later the bindings seize and then loosen, dropping harmlessly from her body.

Shouto lowers her to the ground carefully and Architect crouches to be at eye-level with her.

“How are you feeling, Kou? Are you hurt anywhere?”

The girl shakes her head, staring at Architect with wide eyes. “How do you know my name?” she whispers, awed. Shouto would like to know that too, but Ingenium doesn’t seem at all surprised by the development, so he wills himself to let it go for now.

Architect tilts his head, and though he can’t see, Shouto suspects he’s looking at him. “Entropy told me,” he lies cheerfully. “He knows the name of all his fans.”

Kou whips around to stare at Shouto. ��Really?”

“Ah…yes?”

“Wow.”

Architect and Ingenium both seem amused by the child’s awe. “I bet if you’re good and go with the heroes to get checked over by the doctors, Entropy might even give you an autograph for being so brave.”

Kou’s face scrunches up in displeasure, and Shouto doesn’t really blame her, but a moment later she reluctantly agrees. Architect stands up, waving to someone through the melting ice and a few more heroes come through, accompanied by two paramedics carrying a stretcher.

A moment later two detectives come through the ice as well, and Shouto is pulled into giving a report of what happened while he was alone with the villain and if he noticed anything distinctive about the villain’s appearance or quirk that could help track them down. When he’s finally done going over everything, Kou, the paramedics, and Architect are gone. Ingenium and Mr. Smith head back to where the fight began but Shouto stays behind to melt down what’s left of his ice first with a few other heroes with heat-based quirks, including Sunspot.

Once that’s taken care of, they head back. Sunspot gives him a rundown of the intel she gathered working closer to the main fight. One of the villains was mostly contained when the other two spilt up, the one with the child presumably looking for an escape while the other went deeper into town, ricocheting off buildings and bridges with some kind of body-hardening quirk that kept heroes preoccupied trying to minimalize damage and protect civilians from toppling structures. They have since been contained, however. From the discussion on the radios, rescue and clean-up teams have already started to move in.

Near where they first joined the fight, there is a circle of ambulances, back doors flung open while paramedics check on civilians and heroes alike. Shouto scans the area for Kou. He finally sees her perched in the back of an ambulance, talking animatedly with someone crouched on the ground in front of her.  She sees him as he’s making his way over and waves excitedly. There are red marks crisscrossing her arms from where the bindings were too tight and tear tracts on her rosy cheeks, but she doesn’t seem so bothered by either any more. Shouto waves back.

The person in front of Kou stands as Shouto approaches and turns to him with a smile.

“Entropy,” Dr. Midoriya says in greeting. “Kou was just telling me all about your daring rescue.”

“Dr. Midoriya…” Shouto doesn’t stumble as he comes to a stop near them, but it’s a near thing. He leans against one of the open ambulance doors in (faked) nonchalance. “I didn’t realize you would be here.”

Kou reaches out and tugs on Dr. Midoriya’s sleeve. “See!” She exclaims in a barely contained whisper to the professor. “I told you he’d know who you were! The other hero said he knows the names of all his fans!”

Shouto is pleasantly surprised at the bright blush that comes over the professor’s face at Kou’s whispering. He runs a hand through his hair, riling up the wild curls at the top even more and glances quickly at Shouto out of the corner of his eye. He looks away just as quickly with a nervous laugh.

“Well now, Kou, weren’t you also telling me something about wanting an autograph?” Dr. Midoriya asks, changing the subject easily.

Kou sticks her tongue out at him, but turns to Shouto a moment later with a suddenly shy look. “Um…Entropy,” she starts, his hero name coming out a little muddled as she stumbles over the word.

Remembering Architect’s promise to her, Shouto starts to reach for the notepad he keeps in his tool belt before she can even finish her question but his arm bumps into the ambulance door. The contact immediately sends a searing pain through his arm. With a hiss, and just barely swallowed curse, he pulls his arm in close. Based on their gasps, Kou and Dr. Midoriya see the injury just before he does. Part of his uniform sleeve is melted. Gaping, burnt holes in the fabric reveal splotchy, disfigured skin underneath – a burn. Made all the worse by the deep blue fabric that melted into the open sore. Shouto faintly remembers the villain touching his arm just as he rescued Kou and a flash of sharp pain, but somehow he blocked it out afterwards, so focused on keeping her safe.

Now with the throbbing, searing pain at the forefront of his mind, the fact that he went this long without noticing it feels unreal.

“Sit down,” Dr. Midoriya orders suddenly, pushing Shouto to take a seat in the back of the ambulance next to Kou. “Adrenaline must have blocked the pain, but you’re going to go into shock if we don’t take care of this.”

Behind the pain, Shouto faintly registers the change in the professor’s voice as he orders Shouto around and calls for some first aid supplies to the nearby paramedics. It reminds him of the sudden way he changed in his office the other day, when Shouto mentioned his family. The cheerful, bemusing professor replaced by a no-nonsense professional.

Dr. Midoriya cuts away what’s left of his sleeve, examining the wound closely. All the while giving directions to the paramedics and talking Shouto through a shot of painkillers and the start of an IV. Shouto and Kou are ushered into the ambulance, Dr. Midoriya and another paramedic climbing in after them. In a moment they are on the move.

“The burn needs to be cleaned in a more sterile environment,” Dr. Midoriya says, though Shouto isn’t sure if he’s saying this for his benefit or Kou’s. Shouto is no stranger to the care of significant burns. Kou however is watching both of them with a nervous, teary-eyed expression from where she’s sat on the paramedic’s lap. “The painkillers should kick in soon, which will help. And the IV will help with dehydration.”

Dr. Midoriya pulls out his cell phone, still in a bright All Might case, immediately tapping away at something on the screen. “You were on the scene with a sidekick from your agency, right? Sunspot, the UV hero?”

Shouto blinks in surprise a few times before he remembers the professor’s notebooks. He nods. “How many pages of notes do you have on her?”

Dr. Midoriya gives him an incredulous look, but Shouto doesn’t know what the big deal is. With the heavy-duty pain killers they gave him, he really doesn’t know what the rush is, or the harm in a few questions.

“Just one. Well, one and a half.” Dr. Midoriya finally answers, going back to typing rapidly on his phone. “She’s still new, I haven’t had time to observe her fighting enough to gather more information.”

Shouto will one hundred percent blame it on the drugs later, but a laugh bubbles out of him despite everything at the professor’s petulant tone. “You are something else, Dr. Midoriya.” Shouto starts to sit up, but Dr. Midoriya stops him with a firm, but gentle, hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. He gestures to himself instead, with his uninjured arm. “How did you even know how to do all this? I thought the doctor in your name was for a Ph.D., not M.D.”

The paramedic chuckles from the corner of the ambulance. “He didn’t mention? It’s both. His quirk research is not limited to just academia and theory.”

“What?”

“None of us have been able to figure out how he did it either, don’t worry.” The paramedic adds cheerfully.

Dr. Midoriya stumbles over his words for a few moments, carefully avoiding Shouto’s surprised look, before he settles on scolding the paramedic for “distracting the patient” and changes the subject.

Shouto lets it drop for now, exhaustion from the fight and the injury finally settling in, but one way or another before this damn “Hero Talks” series was over, he was getting some answers out of this professor.

[ggtwrites]

Call of the Sea (v2)

selkie!Dawon a selkie is a magical creature said to be able to shapeshift between the forms of a seal and a human [includes angst] word count: 2920

a/n: This is a repost of a favorite fic of mine - I made some edits and I think it’s definitely better, and I’m glad I took the time to make some changes. Most of the changes are in the 2nd part, but there are some in the 1st part as well. I hope you enjoy this fic if you read it!

Today was going to be a day of relaxation. You had hauled all your beach gear down from your hotel room, carefully arranging it into the perfect set up. With your chair positioned under your umbrella and a soft sea breeze cooling the warm air, everything felt perfect.

However, just as you were opening your book, settled comfortably into your chair, a strong gust of wind blew down the beach, pulling your hat off your head and sending it sailing away. “Hey!” You yelled indignantly, scrambling up to chase after it.

You ran, praying desperately that it wouldn’t land in the water. Your hat angled towards the ocean, the wind intent on forever separating you from your beloved sun hat. You didn’t have the speed to catch it before it reached the water, your loss of hat seemed inevitable.

Fortunately, your hat did not meet a watery fate. With a deft arm movement it was in the hands of a stranger. His back was facing you, so all you could see was what looked to be a leather jacket, but it was gray, dappled with black spots. As he turned towards you, you were greeted by the sight of a handsome man with curly black hair. Your eyes met his and he smiled. His smile seemed warm, but there was a look in his eyes that promised mischief.

“Is this yours?” He asked as you jogged up next to him. You nodded, trying to catch your breath, and he placed it carefully on your head. “You’d better keep a hand on it, the winds around here can get pretty intense.”

You laughed, still a little out of breath, “Yeah, it would certainly seem so. You must come here often to know that.”

The stranger shrugged, a small smile on his face. “I do come around the area now and then.”

“Well,” you said, your hand on the brim of your hat to keep it from blowing away again, “thank you for saving my hat, I would’ve been sad to see it lost in the waves.”

“It was no problem, I was happy to help such a lovely person in distress.” While normally a comment like that might lead to an eye roll from you, there was something about the way he said it that made it seem like a joke, and you were beginning to realize that the twinkle in his eyes was very alluring.

“I’m Dawon,” he said as he stuck his hand out, “it’s nice to meet you, and save your hat of course.” As you shook his hand you told him your name. He repeated it, his lips curving up into another wonderful smile as he spoke it.

As your hand fell back down to your side you added, “It’s nice to meet you too, I haven’t seen many people around here, it’s nice to find someone to chat with.”

His smile widened, “You’re right, about there not being many people around. It’s a pleasant surprise for me to meet such a pleasant person here on the beach.” You looked down, not sure how to take his words, but he simply continued to talk. “So what brings you here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind saying,” you said with a shrug, “I wanted to have some time to get away from my usual life and I decided that this was the place to do it. How about you?”

Dawon shrugged his shoulders, just like you had moments before. “I enjoy coming here every now and then, it’s easy to get to and a peaceful place to think.”

“Oh, I see!” You said with a nod. “It does seem like a good place for some peace, at least for me, the sounds of the beach, especially the waves, are very relaxing.”

Although you weren’t exactly sure why, this statement seemed to please Dawon, as his face lit up with a bright smile. “I’m glad you think so, it’s nice to find someone who feels like I do about the beach.”

“It sounds like you really enjoy the beach.” You commented.

With a laugh he said, “Yeah you could say that, but I like the ocean even more.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his statement. “What do you mean?”

“Without the ocean, I couldn’t enjoy the beach the way I do. It’s the crash of the waves, the smell of the salt in the air, the feel of the cool water on my feet that makes me enjoy the beach, and all of that comes from the ocean.” As Dawon explained he looked out towards the ocean, a far off look in his eyes.

But like flipping a switch his focus was back on you, a twinkle in his eyes. “Hey, want me to teach you to skip stones so well it looks like magic?”

Your eyes lit up with interest and you nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great! I’ve never had a chance to learn how to, and looking like magic sounds pretty cool.”

As it turned out, Dawon was a good teacher, and you picked up stone skipping quickly. Soon you were skipping stones eight or nine times before they sunk below the waves. He was even better though, with one particularly well shaped rock he was able to skip it fifteen times. There was something magical in the way he skipped the rocks, the way they skimmed perfectly over the waves.

After you’d both had your fill of rock skipping, the two of you took a break in the shade of your beach umbrella. As you settled onto your blanket, Dawon doing the same, you turned to him. “Aren’t you hot wearing a jacket like that in the summer?” You asked with a curious tilt of your head.

“No, this jacket is like a second skin to me, I’d feel odd without it.” He smirked as if something in what he had said was amusing. “But that doesn’t matter, let’s talk about how great a teacher I am when it comes to rock skipping.”

You laughed lightly, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, you are pretty great.”

“Pretty great?” He huffed, “that’s it?” Dawon looked at you with a pout, but you could see that joking sparkle in his eyes that you were quickly growing very fond of.

Tapping your chin you pretended to think. “Hmm, I suppose I could say you did excellent. Would that be good enough to satisfy Mr. High Maintenance?”

The look of mock indignation on his face made you double over with laughter. “I’ll have you know I am not high maintenance. Stop laughing, it’s true.” But you couldn’t stop laughing, even as he continued, “In fact, I might even say I’m low maintenance.” This statement was given a snort in response and the frown on his face only made you laugh more because of the smiling eyes that went with it.

With you laughing the way you were, he couldn’t keep up his act and soon he was laughing just as much as you were. His laugh, his smile, his eyes directed at you, your heart almost couldn’t take it. The wind blowing your hat to him had truly been a blessing.

Over the next few days you got to know Dawon better, but there was always a part of him that felt so distant. However, you grew to love the parts of him he let you see, especially his teasing and silliness. The two of you grew close, and it felt so natural that when he asked if he could hold your hand you agreed without hesitation.

There was something about him that just felt right, and you wished your time with him could last forever. As you walked down the beach, your hand in his, a question occurred to you. “Is Dawon really your name?”

“No.” He responded with sparkling eyes and a mischievous smile. “You like asking questions, don’t you?”

You shrugged. “Not always, but you’re a mystery to me, and I want to know more about you.”

The sincerity in your words seemed to shock your curly haired companion. He stopped and turned to you, a look you couldn’t describe in his eyes. “You’re quite the person, you know.”

“As it happens, I do know,” you said with a giggle.

“Good. It would be a shame if you didn’t know, you truly are something special.” He bumped his shoulder against yours as he smiled down at you. This smile had more warmth than any you’d seen before, and despite all his teasing it felt like he truly meant what he said this time.

Without even noticing the two of you had paused. As you gazed up at Dawon, you became lost in the depth of his eyes, the dark browns swirling around his pupils tugging at your heart. There was a warmth in his eyes, and beneath all the mischief you knew there was sincerity. But there was also something else in his eyes that you couldn’t put a name to.

“Hey,” he said quietly, letting go of your hands as he reached out to brush your windswept hair out of your face, “can I kiss you?” There was no longer any mischief in his eyes, and the warmth was being overtaken by an intensity that made it hard for you to breathe.

Caught up in his eyes all you could do was nod, your whole body filling with warmth as he leaned towards you, one hand gently lifting your chin as his lips met yours. He tasted like the sea in a way that was strange and yet enticing. As his soft lips brushed against yours your whole body felt alive.

You found yourself clutching the front of his shirt for support. It felt like you were being overwhelmed, Dawon’s presence was like a wave crashing all around you as he kissed you softly. And then, it was over. He pulled away from you, his hand dropping to his side and your hands let go of his shirt.

The two of you simply stood there, staring at each other with wide eyes, unable to say a word. He regained his composure first and with a laugh he said, “Wow,” which summed up your feelings as well. All you could do was nod, your mouth hanging open.

You felt his fingers on your chin as Dawon closed your mouth, a smirk now on his face. A shiver went down your spine as his fingers brushed against your chin as he pulled them away. Your eyes were still wide as you tried to manage coherent thought, but you weren’t able to.

“No questions for me now, huh?” He asked jokingly. “Maybe I should kiss you more often then.”

Spluttering indignantly you were finally able to speak again. “Hey!”

Dawon laughed as he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. You know I love your questions.”

You huffed and turned away, but when his hand reached out for yours, you let him take it. Turning around you were faced with a warm smile from him, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. You smiled back, giving his hand a squeeze and the two of you continued your walk down the beach.

Seven Years Later

Shaking off the sea water that still clung to his hair after the transformation, Sanghyuk made his way up the beach that had become etched into his mind. The years had passed so achingly slow, but finally he was back.

If he had known the way the tides of oceans and the magic in his veins would prevent him from stepping on these sands until now, would he have gotten close to the person he had met all those years ago? Yes, without a second thought. Over the years he had treasured his memories with them like precious pearls.

He knew it was a long shot to even try and find them again, but there was a small part of him that held onto hope. Even though Sanghyuk never had the courage to tell them, he had truly loved them. He had loved their beautiful eyes, their curiosity, the softness of their features when they were surprised, and more than anything, the way they made him feel at home.

The idea of feeling at home out of the ocean had both excited and scared him, but he had embraced the feeling, enjoying every moment with the person that had captured his heart. However, Sanghyuk was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of laughter further down the beach.

Turning his head towards the sound his heart lurched as another person laughed, and this laughter sounded like a distant dream. As he spotted the source of the laughter his heart stopped, and he felt like he was being stabbed in the heart.

Although the two people coming down the beach were too far to see clearly, his aching heart led him to believe that one of them was the person he had longed to see for so long. They were holding hands. His breath shortened as he began to notice more details the closer they came. The look in their eyes, the closeness, everything about the pair walking down the beach he noticed came with a stabbing pain in his heart.

Caught up in the hurt he barely managed to hide behind an outcropping of rocks as they got closer, too close, close enough they might have seen him. He knew it would be completely unfair to expect that person to wait for him, and it still wasn’t clear what their exact relationship was, but none of that could stop the pain and loss crashing down on, all reason like sand trying to stop a tidal wave.

He glanced towards the water, the pull to throw himself into the ocean and lose himself in the waves calling to him, but the aching to know and the fact that they might see him caused to stay still, immobilized by all the thoughts and emotions racing through him.

As he waited for the pair to pass he heard a voice he wasn’t sure he’d ever hear again. “Did you see that? I could have sworn I saw a person right here.”

They were right on the other side of the rocks. So close. And yet, it was like they were on the other side of the ocean from him.

The person they were with responded and Sanghyuk could hear the affection in their voice, even as they answered such a simple question. “No, I didn’t see anything. Are you sure it wasn’t the light off the water playing tricks on your eyes?”

“I thought… For a moment… Are you sure?” There was something both hopeful yet sad in their voice, many complex emotions just in the voice, he thought he might cry if he saw their face at this moment.

“Still looking for your mystery man, even when I’m standing right here?” While their voice was playful, there was an edge to it that made Sanghyuk tense up.

There was a sigh, a lovely sigh, and then, “You know I’m over Dawon,” his heart stopped, his breath stopped, everything stopped as he heard the name he had given to her all those years ago, “I can’t help but look for him, for closure. I never found out what happened to him, but you know my heart belongs to you. I may have had feelings for him at one point, but it’s been seven years, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

There it was, what he had been dreading since they had started talking in front of his hiding spot, one he was regretting the more he heard, but it was even worse than he had thought. While he had always wished for their happiness, a part of him had held onto the hope that their happiness might be with him, no matter how unrealistic that might be.

They sounded happy, they had someone, and it wasn’t him. His heart shattered to dust as the couple continued walking down the beach, their conversation becoming faint. Crumpling to the group there was nothing left in him but tears, he was empty, a void in humanoid form.

Coming back had been a mistake, his desire to know a curse destroying him from the inside out. Would he have been better off not knowing they were happy but with someone? Did the reassurance outweigh his grief? Maybe it would in time, but in that moment all he felt was despair.

Finally able to stand he made his way back towards the ocean. He waded in until the water was up to his knees, standing in front of a drop off. Closing his eyes he sighed and let his body fall into the ocean, the embrace of the cold salt water welcoming him into its depth. As his body sank beneath the wave his skin began to ripple and he was surrounded by bubbles.

Soon in the place of the man with curly hair was a seal, its gray body dappled with black. Although he was in the ocean where he felt most at home, a part of him was forever lost to the beach, to that person he had longed for all those years. In the pieces of his heart, still shattered beyond repair, he knew he could never leave the sea again.