#anyway that doesn’t really matter I’m looking forward to next semester I am not looking forward to the real world | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yuta-nakamots · 3 years ago

Text

whiplash - j.jh

Pairing - Jaehyun x Reader, Jungwoo x Reader

Genre - Fluff, Smut, Angst, University!AU, Friends to Lovers!AU, Fake Dating!AU

Warnings - y/n is a cheater, breakups, oral (both male and fem receiving), unprotected sex, reader is on birth control, creampie

Summary - After your letters to your two crushes, who you thought you’d never have a chance with, are mistakenly received, you’re greeted by a world of indecisiveness. You don’t know which way to go, which man to go with, and every choice you make feels like getting whiplash.

Word Count - 10.7k

A/N - This was supposed to come out in February for Miss B’s collab and I am terribly sorry that it’s so late but hopefully it’s written well enough to make up for that. Bolded and italicized phrases (like this) indicate song lyrics from NCT 127′s Whiplash.

Written for the To All the Members I’ve Loved Before: Dear 127, Collab hosted by @alreadyblondenow. Check out the masterlist here. Part of the Summer ‘127 Event hosted by @nct-writers. Check out the masterlist here.

Being a full-time college student doesn’t always offer the best opportunities in having a loving relationship. That’s why, at the end of your fall semester in sophomore year, you wrote letters to the two boys who had warmed your heart throughout the past months as the weather grew colder.

The first one was addressed to Jaehyun Jeong, the senior TA in your sociology class who always looked so dashingly handsome no matter what he wore. Whenever he gave presentations, it made you fall that much more for him. His voice sounded so nice and he looked so strong and confident as he stood at the front of the lecture hall. You wrote to him:

Letter 1: To Jaehyun Jeong,

“You probably don’t even know me but I’m in the sociology class that you TA for, section 306 to be specific. I always look forward to coming to class because that’s when I can see you. When you’re not there, it’s just not the same. It’s as if everything seems more boring, the color duller, the volume more muted, I can never seem to pay attention to anything because my mind is so full of you.

I barely even know you and your interests but that one time you plugged in your laptop to the projector, you still had your Spotify open and I saw that you listen to The 1975 and Cigarettes After Sex. I like them too and I always wondered what your favorite songs are. Sometimes I’d imagine getting to talk to you and learn all the little things about you, like how you make your coffee in the morning, or how you always seem so enthusiastic when lecturing about possibly such boring concepts, or what you’ll be doing after you graduate.

These are the things I’ll never get to know about you. Once you graduate in spring, that’s it. I guess this is my early goodbye to you, Jaehyun. I wish you all the best in the future and I know I may not ever forget you.”

The second letter was addressed to Jungwoo Kim, one of your classmates who was just a year older than you. Even though he was already a junior, he was stuck taking a sophomore econ class because he wasn’t able to take it the year before due to sleeping through the class registration date and all the seats filling up before he even had a chance to get in. Whenever you got fed up by all the concepts that made little to no sense, he was always ready to cheer you up, making jokes or acting cute, whatever he had to do to make you feel better.

Letter 2: To Jungwoo Kim,

“Thank you for being such a wonderful seatmate and choosing to stay next to me even though you could have moved to sit with your friends all along. It’s honestly kind of funny how they chose to sit together and left you out but now here we are, having more fun and earning better grades than them. They probably wish they were sitting with us, right? But anyway, all those times I said I was staring out the window and looking at a bird or a dog outside, I was really looking at you.

You’re so attractive and you don’t even know it. You told me that you act funny because you aren’t handsome but I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re both funny and handsome and an incredibly attractive person. If I ever had the nerves and strength to do so, I would ask you to be my boyfriend because you’re so fun to be around and I wish our time together wouldn’t have to end after this semester.

Who knows though, maybe we’ll have another class together next semester. I really hope we do but I don’t even know what the chances of that are and it’s not like I have your number to ask which sections you’re signing up for. So I guess this is goodbye to you, Jungwoo. I hope to see you around on campus and that you treasure our memories together as much as I do.”

There are as many dreams at night as there are stars.

You wrote these letters with no intention for their contents to be read by anyone else but you. This was your way of dumping your feelings out and sealing them away, never to be seen again. You had planned to take the letters home with you over winter break and lock them up with the rest of your collection of letters but when you were unpacking your belongings after returning, they were nowhere to be found.

The image of them sitting on your desk back in your dorm was burned into your head and you can only hope no one bothered to move them or even more so, read them. You really should have texted your roommate, Jalen, who was staying in the dorms while she took a winter course, but the thought never crossed your mind as you agonized over the letters for the next month and a half.

Upon your return to campus, after Christmas and New Years, you had pretty much forgotten about the whole letter ordeal until you saw one of their recipients in your morning statistics class. When you stepped foot inside of the classroom, you recognized Jungwoo almost immediately and both of you seemed to freeze as your gazes met. Snapping out of it quickly, you took a seat on the other side of the classroom just as you saw his mouth open, likely to call you over, though he refrained from doing so.

The first class of the semester was always easy, just going over the syllabus and what to expect out of the course, all that jazz. It allowed you to occasionally peek over at Jungwoo to see what he was doing. Quite frankly, you don’t know if it was because it’s still a bit early in the day but he didn’t seem as attentive as usual. His eyes looked glazed over as he stared straight ahead, barely even blinking.

Your professor had excused the class early since there wasn’t much to cover and it was your own fault that you were too caught up in staring at Jungwoo to notice the rest of the students packing up their belongings. He turned around, his eyes surprised to find your own staring right back at him, and that was your cue to flee. You quickly shoved your things into your backpack and made a beeline for the door, Jungwoo right on your heels. Looking back, it must have looked quite comical, the way you were nearly Black Friday speed walking out with the lanky man behind you doing the same.

“Hey! Y/n! Wait up!” Jungwoo called out, “Don’t act like you can’t hear me young lady!”

You rolled your eyes at his persistence and begrudgingly came to a stop once you were out of the main hallways and away from the eye of the public. “Can I help you?”

“Wow, shouldn’t you be a little more nice after all that stuff you wrote in that letter? I thought you-”

It felt as if your whole world had stopped, your heart plummeting below the floor. “What letter?” You asked cautiously.

“The one where you said that you like to stare at me and you think I’m attractive and handsome, and you’d ask me out-”

Again, you interrupted him, “where did you get it from?”

Jungwoo raised his eyebrows in interest, “oh? So you acknowledge that you wrote it?”

“W-well, yes, okay, but how did you get it?” You were fumbling for words and you hoped that he didn’t notice how anxious you were.

“Your roommate, what’s her name? Jaden? Jayna?”

“Jalen,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, that girl, she gave it to me over winter semester,” he explained, “she said it had my name on it and you left it on your desk before you went home. She thought it was important, which is why you left it for her to get to me.”

Your face was as blank as your mind. You were staring straight at Jungwoo, all your thoughts ripping through your head because you didn’t know what to do now. Jaehyun’s name flashed in front of your eyes when you suddenly remembered you had also written him a letter and just as you were about to turn and run to who knows where, Jungwoo caught your arm and forced you to stay put. “Hey, don’t just leave me like this, I need an explanation!”

“An explanation for what?” Your arms flailed in exasperation, just wanting to head to the library for some peace and quiet or maybe the food court to buy something to distract you for a bit.

Jungwoo backed off at your little outburst. “Did you really mean everything you said in the letter?”

“I did.” You state.

He made a puzzled expression at you. “Did? Or still do? There’s a difference.”

You let out a sigh, staring off into the distance behind him. “I guess, I still do. Why?”

“I think maybe we should give us a try,” he proposed, “I will admit that I also thought you were quite attractive but I didn’t think you would feel the same way so I just told myself to forget about it and move on, but here we are.”

There was a moment of silence as you processed what he just said. “‘Give us a try’ as in?”

“As in being a couple, you know? You’re my girlfriend and I’m your boyfriend,” Jungwoo clarified.

“A-are you sure you want to? You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you blurted in utter shock at how this scenario was turning out.

He nodded, “of course, I wouldn’t go through all this effort if I wasn’t sure.”

“I don’t know…” you teased, “you’ve done a lot of questionable things even when you weren’t sure if you should.”

He ran a hand through his soft, brown hair, “look, I needed to know what would happen after eating mentos and drinking Coke. I couldn’t find anything about it online so if someone was going to sacrifice themself for science then it was going to be me.”

Both of you laughed as you remembered that instance outside of the cafeteria when he had recklessly eaten a few mentos and downed a can of Coca Cola to see if he’d end up rocketing out a soda fountain. He didn’t, and just got a bad stomach ache afterward but it was funny to see him threatening the rest of your friends by saying “I’m the Cola dragon! I’m going to use my Cola breath if you come too close!”

“Okay but seriously,” Jungwoo went on, “I’m willing to see how this works out. At best, maybe we’re made for each other and end up getting married in a couple of years, and at worst we go back to being just friends.”

You cringed at the latter end of his statement. “How do you know that we’ll still be friends if this doesn’t go well?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know but that’s what I hope will happen. But we shouldn’t think about that for now, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, “so, if I’m willing to give this a try and you are too…”

“Then I guess that makes us a couple,” Jungwoo stated before looking down at his watch, “a couple of idiots because we’re about to be late for class.”

You broke out into a smile as he pulled out his phone and panicked to find where his next class was. “I don’t have a class until 10 so it’s just you who’s the idiot.”

“Well then I’m your idiot,” he cooed, “I’m fucked right now but I’ll catch you later, babe!”

“Too soon!” You called out to him as he took off to his class.

Now, comfortably, I’m with you again.

When you got back to your dorm later that day, you were sure to give Jalen a piece of your mind and make it known just how much stress she had put you under. But at the very least, you did thank her because it was to her credit that you now have a boyfriend. An extremely handsome and cute one, too.

Your friends were the slightest bit surprised when Jungwoo started regularly showing up to eat lunch with you guys and started acting a whole lot more clingy towards you. They all were so happy when you finally told them that things were official and the one-sided crush you had last semester was no longer just a crush.

Jungwoo got along with your entire friend group and was such a social butterfly but you never got the opportunity to become jealous because he’d always return to you, similar to how a puppy returns to its owner. He always made sure that people knew the two of you were in a relationship by holding your hand, putting an arm around your shoulder, or even giving quick kisses to your cheek or forehead. He was awfully affectionate but you didn’t mind it at all.

You should have known that everything was going too well and something was bound to happen. Almost exactly a week after you and Jungwoo had become a couple, you ran into Jaehyun in the cafeteria. It happened when you were staring into the large vending machine, thinking about which drink to get. “Y/n.” a voice called out firmly. A voice that made you want to drop everything and run.

Jaehyun came to stand next to you. “I recommend the peach tea,” he began, “it’s the right amount of sweet and it goes really well with any bag of chips.”

“Uh, thanks,” you stepped forward and got the tea he was talking about. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good, just getting in order for graduation,” he followed you in getting the peach tea and nudged you in the direction of the cash registers. “Y’know, a little while ago, I got a letter from a friend of yours-“

Again, you felt yourself go weak and you cursed at Jalen for not asking you about the letters and yourself for not texting her to ask about them. “Yeah about that…please don’t take it seriously, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow at you. “Why shouldn’t I take it seriously? It seems like a lot of effort went into writing it.”

“I just…never intended for you to read it,” you told him as the cashier rang you up.

“Well for your information, I think it was well written and delivered a very nice message,” he placed his items on the counter with yours and handed the cashier his card. You were about to refuse but he held up a hand to silence you. “I just wanted to let you know that some things in that letter are possible.”

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “Jaehyun, what are you saying?” After paying for everything, he grabbed his items and ushered you outside. You took your tea and immediately opened it to take a sip, hoping to quench your thirst and anxiety.

“I’m saying that we can talk about my favorite 1975 songs and I can show you my coffee orders and take you to my favorite cafes,” he suggested, “with your agreement of course.”

“I’d like that,” you confess.

There was a bit of silence as Jaehyun smiled to himself. “You wouldn’t happen to be free this weekend, would you?”

“I actually am,” you tell him after doing a quick mental check of your schedule.

“Would you like to come with me to Coffee Bean on Saturday then? I haven’t been there in a while and I heard they had some nice winter drinks,” he proposed.

“The Dulce de Leche Latte is really good,” you share, having gotten one yourself a little while ago, “but yeah, I’d love to go with you.”

Jaehyun pulled the receipt out of his pocket along with a pen from his backpack and quickly jot down his number before handing it to you. “Meet me there at 1. Bring your assignments too, if you have any. I’m planning on grading some things while we’re there, just TA things, you know?”

“Sure, just TA things,” you humored.

“Speaking of which, I have a class to teach in a bit so I hope you have a good rest of your day and I’ll see you soon,” he concluded, his hair blowing in the light breeze.

“Have fun, Mr. TA,” you joked, “don’t bore the poor students to death.”

“That’s not what your letter said.” With that, he waved you goodbye and headed off to the humanities building.

When he was out of sight, you added his number to your contacts and sent him a message so he knew it was you. A few seconds later he responded with ‘;)’ and you hoped no one was watching you smile at your phone.

Now you weren’t so upset about the letters anymore, seeing as how it led to only better things with both of the recipients.

On Saturday you met up with Jaehyun at the cafe and you told Jungwoo that you’d be out studying with a friend. He wished you well and told you to study hard. This was only the first of many half-lies you’d be telling him. It was true that you were going to a cafe, planning to study, and that you were going with a friend, yet it didn’t feel like it was the entire truth.

The week after that, you went to watch a new movie with Jaehyun. In that same week, you and Jungwoo shared your first kiss. Then the next time, it was a vinyl store with Jaehyun and your first ‘I love you’s with Jungwoo. The turning point came when Jaehyun took you to the local Spring Carnival, the very same one that Jungwoo had asked you to go to but you had turned him down, already tired from having gone with Jaehyun the week prior.

You kept telling yourself that there was nothing wrong with this since Jaehyun had never explicitly labeled the two of you as anything special. Girls can have guy friends and a boyfriend at the same time, right? Certainly, you should have told Jaehyun that you were already taken, but since he hadn’t crossed any boundaries while the two of you were out on friendly dates, you never felt a huge need to mention Jungwoo.

Your energy was worn thin between the two men and it broke your heart, seeing Jungwoo’s dejected expressions whenever you turned down his offers to go out and do something fun together. The midterm season had started and that further limited your time with him, yet you had still gone out with Jaehyun to another one of his favorite cafes late at night. This time, you were determined to tell him about Jungwoo and set some distance between yourself and Jaehyun.

“So how has sophomore year been going for you?” Jaehyun asked, sipping on the warm tea he had gotten for both of you.

You shrugged, swirling the cup around and watching the little leaves float around. “It’s okay. I took my first midterm of the semester a few days ago and I have two more to go.”

“What class?” He inquired, his eyes never leaving your face.

“History,” you told him, “I think I did quite well on it, but having that feeling is never too good since you’ll be let down more if it turns out you didn't do well.”

“That’s very true,” he agreed.

You played with the condensation forming on the inside of the cup, sloshing around the liquid to get rid of the bubbles and watching it form again. “How’s it going with graduation? Did you turn in all the paperwork for it?”

He nodded as he took another sip of his drink. “I submitted all of my documents and paid all the fees, I’m just waiting for my supervisors to add their comments and give their final approval.”

“That’s good,” a short silence fell upon the two of you. “What are you planning on doing after graduation?”

“I’ve been thinking about going into psychology or maybe some type of social work,” Jaehyun shared, tilting his head as he recalled all of his options, “I used to think about doing criminal psychology but that seemed a little too intense for me.”

“Criminal psychology?” You were a bit shocked, to say the least.”

A shy smile donned his face, his dimples peeking out ever so slightly. “I used to watch criminal documentaries with my parents when I was younger and my mom always would comment on how cool the psychologists were,” you always loved hearing stories from his childhood and imagining how he would’ve looked when he was younger, “I wanted my mom to call me handsome and cool when I grew up so that’s why I started studying psychology in the first place.”

“And from there, you found all the other branches and professions, I’m guessing?” He nodded in agreement. “That’s really cute, you know. Most people just say that they’re going into those kinds of fields because they ‘want to help people’ but it’s nice that you have your own backstory with a special connection to it.”

“I do want to help people and leave an impact on their lives,” he added, “but I do admit that it’s all because of my mom that I ended up here.”

“Cute,” you chuckled, finally drinking some of your tea after letting it cool down for a bit.

“That’s another one of your questions answered, isn’t it?” Jaehyun pondered.

You almost choked on the liquid going down your throat. “It’s a what?”

“In your letter,” he explained, “you said you wanted to know what I’d be doing after graduation right? Well, now you know. Speaking of which, I’ve also been showing you all my favorite drinks and I even took you to that record store last week.”

You felt your cheeks heating up from his words but you blamed the heat of the drink. “You remember all of that? What I wrote in the letter, I mean.”

Now it was Jaehyun’s turn to be embarrassed, “I read it almost every night.”

A whole rush of emotions flooded through you, it felt as if you were on a roller coaster. “Every night?”

“Almost, every night,” he defined, “but yes, I do read it quite often. It was my first time receiving anything that sincere and I haven’t been able to get it off my mind.”

“That’s...really sweet of you,” you confessed.

“Look, I...have something to tell you,” Jaehyun began, sitting forward and resting his forearms on the table, “I know I should’ve told you this before but now I think I finally have the confidence to do so.” You knew nothing could ever prepare you for what this man has to say, he was always so unpredictable. “I have feelings for you, romantically, and I would like to pursue a relationship with you, though I can understand if you do not feel the same, especially since I’m graduating soon and leaving this chapter of my life behind.”

In this moment, all stop, my whole body reacts quickly.

To say that you were speechless would be an understatement. If there was a way to track how fast your thoughts were moving, you would have broken all the speed limits in the world. You should’ve seen this coming with the way he’d only treat you with the utmost care and respect. There was nothing but adoration and infatuation in your heart for the man in front of you, yet the same went for Jungwoo, oh poor Jungwoo. You should have told Jaehyun about your relationship sooner and avoided this whole situation, yet here you were, having to inadvertently choose between the two of them.

“I really would love to reciprocate your feelings but,” you saw Jaehyun’s expression drop, “I just can’t right now.” Damn your kind heart and damn your weak mind. You simply couldn’t bring yourself to turn Jaehyun down, not after he had quite literally shown you into his soul.

“I understand,” he faltered, “is it the graduation? Or is it something else? Because I’m sure we could work something out if it were just due to me leaving the university.”

You shook your head, “no, it’s not your graduation. It’s just that I have...other things going on right now that I don’t think would allow me to be the best partner for you.”

“I’ll take it that you don’t want to share the details of those ‘things’ with me as of right now so I won’t ask about them,” he was so good at reading you that it was almost frightening. “But my offer still stands and if the time ever comes where you feel that we could be together, I’ll be waiting until then.”

This was only going to get worse if you later told him that you got a boyfriend. No matter what you could think of, you were stuck between Jaehyun and Jungwoo with no escape. “In the meantime though, I do have a favor to ask of you. It’ll be fun if you accept and it won’t be much of a burden, I promise,” Jaehyun reassured.

You agreed after hearing the details of it, though it wasn’t without a ton of inner turmoil and asking yourself if it was morally right to do so, especially if you wanted to continue your relationship with Jungwoo. This was going to be the ending of your romances with one of them and you hoped it would be over quickly without much difficulty.

After the midterm season passed, you devoted more of your time to Jungwoo and only accepted a few date invitations from Jaehyun. You’d tell Jungwoo that you were studying with friends or going in for extra office hours and tutoring, which he didn’t question any further since he was doing just the same.

There was a distance that had grown between the two of you and you knew Jungwoo felt it too because he made sure to tell you “I love you” whenever he could and he’d write sweet little messages for you and slip them under your door or send them at late hours of the night so you’d have something nice to wake up to.

For Jaehyun, it was a little harder to make up excuses though you told him nearly the same thing. He still showed up on campus to teach his assigned classes and finish up his research projects. Those days were the days you felt the most suffocated. You were constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure that you didn’t run into either one of them, or when you were with one man, the other wasn’t around.

It was quite criminal, really, the way you were sneaking around in broad daylight like this. But the remaining half of the semester passed by and you maintained your double life without any incident. Now all that was left for you was summer and the promise you made to Jaehyun, followed by summer school of course.

Jaehyun held the heavy door open for you while you lugged your suitcase in through the doorway, glad that the AC in the room was already running, or else you would’ve been drenched in sweat by now. He closed the door behind him after pulling his own suitcase in and let out a little noise of glee before flinging himself onto the puffy white bed. “Come try it, it’s so soft!”

You jumped into the bed next to him and found that he was not lying at all. The two of you laid side by side in a comfortable silence until you felt yourself beginning to doze off so you sat up to try to shake off the feeling, not wanting to get jet lag. “So tomorrow,” you prompted, “that’s our free day besides getting lunch and dinner here, and the day after that is the wedding?”

Jaehyun let out a grunt in confirmation, not wanting to move from where he had his face buried into a pillow. You checked the clock and noted that it was already well into the evening. “Should we call room service for dinner so we can shower while we wait then head to sleep after?”

He let out another grunt with a mumbled, “put it under my name.”

You gave him a quiet “thank you” before getting up and seating yourself at the desk with the hotel telephone and ordering dinner for the two of you. By the time you had hung up, Jaehyun had already fallen asleep, tired from the flight in and driving on the busy roads. You took this time to organize your thoughts and belongings while preparing to shower. The room service would be here in about 45 minutes so you definitely had enough time to shower, as long as you didn’t get too caught up in reading the labels on things in the bathroom.

While you were showering, you thought back to that cursed day where you promised Jaehyun that you would do this, that you’d be his fake girlfriend at his family friend’s wedding over the summer. He had confessed his feelings for you so sincerely that you just could not outright turn him down so you figured that this was the least you could do for him, especially since he was paying for everything.

Jaehyun had explained to you that his parents, despite loving him to pieces, would always try to set him up with other girls whenever they were at these large events and he absolutely hated it. He was tired of being sent off to go hang out with some girl that he barely even knew and when he came back in a bad mood, they’d always blame it on him. You figured that with a face and body like his, you could see why it was so difficult.

He told you that he’d take care of everything since he was the one asking you for a favor, but the only thing that might pose a problem was the fact that people were going to see you as a couple and therefore expect you to behave like one. For example, sharing a room, more specifically a bed. You knew there was always the sofa in the room but you’ve read enough books as a young adult to know that things never end up the way you plan them to.

Jaehyun said that the trip would only be for a few days, two days for traveling and returning home, two days of free time, and one day for the wedding. It really didn’t sound all that bad and you hoped through this, you’d be able to tell where your feelings lay on the spectrum between Jaehyun and Jungwoo.

Speaking of, Jungwoo has only been the most supportive and loving boyfriend within the past couple of months. Both of you were over the moon when your final grades of the semester came in and he had taken you out to dinner to celebrate. That was when he had given you a promise ring and confessed fully to you. “I truly see a future with you and no matter the distance between us, whether it be physically or emotionally, I know we’ll make things work like we always do. Don’t you ever forget that I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You always wore the ring. Sometimes on your finger, sometimes on a necklace, but it was always on you. You caught Jaehyun eyeing it a couple of times but he never explicitly asked about it so you never told him any details behind it. Even now, when you were supposed to be Jaehyun’s supposed girlfriend, you still kept Jungwoo’s ring to remind you of his presence.

When you told him about this trip, you didn’t lie to him at all. You told him that one of your friends had asked you to be his plus one to a wedding because he was tired of his family trying to set him up with other girls. Jungwoo wasn’t so approving the first time around, especially when you said that you’d have to share a room with this other person, but you eventually convinced Jungwoo that it’s not anything bad, you’re just doing a favor for a friend and you’d come straight home to him when it was all over.

A knock on the front door broke you out of your thoughts. You didn’t realize how long you were taking in the shower and you swore at yourself, knowing that it was the room service. Quickly, you wrapped a towel around yourself and went to accept the food, thanking them and bringing the cart inside of your room while trying to be quiet as to not wake Jaehyun. It seems that your efforts weren’t enough because when you looked over at him again, he was staring right at you.

His ears went pink and he threw the blanket over his head when he saw that you caught him, “sorry, I uh, I heard you moving around and woke up. I didn’t see anything, I promise.”

You suddenly felt so much more exposed, realizing that you were wearing just a towel that barely covered down to half of your thighs, leaving little to one’s imagination. “You can start eating,” you hurriedly told him, “I’ll finish showering and then you can hop in after.”

After receiving a muted “okay” from him under the thick covers, you got back into the shower, ready to silently scream at yourself for that whole encounter. It was bad enough already, you didn’t know how you were supposed to survive three whole days with him like this.

By the time you were done in the shower and came out of the bathroom, Jaehyun was already done eating and gathering his own toiletries and clothes to shower. “I left some food for you, I didn’t know what you’d like so I left a bit of everything.” He pushed past you and headed into the bathroom, refusing to make eye contact with you.

You ate dinner in silence, simply letting yourself marinate in your own thoughts for a while before finishing your food and cleaning up all the dishes. Jaehyun was still in the shower after you had called room service for cleanup and pushed the cart outside so you climbed into bed and tried your best to stay at the edge, not wanting to take up more space than necessary and end up like all those romance novels.

At some point or another, you must have fallen asleep because the next time you open your eyes, the room is already being lit by the faint rays of sunlight coming through the curtains. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and checked through your notifications, making sure to respond to Jungwoo and let him know you were doing okay, even sending him a few selfies to ease his worries.

Jaehyun was still asleep next to you, snoring ever so slightly. He looked so cute like this, his cheek smushed up against the pillow and his soft hair falling over his eyes. You felt the urge to take a picture of him but ultimately decided against it, your interest in exploring the hotel getting the better of you.

It was only 9am so you figured that the pool shouldn’t be too crowded, and if it was then you’d just sit on a lounge chair for a bit before coming back to the room. It was summer and you did well during the academic year so the least you could do for yourself was get a bit of vitamin D in. You wrote a note for Jaehyun telling him you’d be at the pool for a bit and left it on top of his suitcase, where you were sure that he’d see it and you got changed in the bathroom, putting on sunscreen and grabbing a towel to take with you.

Luckily, there weren’t too many people around when you arrived at the pool, most of them being kids and sticking to the shallower side. The sky was clear overhead, already warming up the pavement under your feet and encouraging you to get into the water. You carefully slid in, enjoying the refreshing coldness and the feeling of near weightlessness. It got boring after a while, just swimming from place to place so instead, you entertained yourself by looking down at the streets below you, resting your head atop your arms while your lower half was still submerged in the water.

It was nice to let yourself go on autopilot like this, just observing the people and cars coming and going. You wondered where they were headed to, who they were, what they were doing. Sometimes you’d make up little stories for them if you found someone’s outfit particularly interesting or if they were doing something a bit out of the ordinary like the group of young boys you saw carrying cardboard boxes. Maybe they were carrying groceries or helping someone to move in, you would never know.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you finally climbed out of the pool, but you figured it must have been enough for Jaehyun to wake up and do his own thing. Seeing as how most of the people sitting beside the pool had plates with them, it must have been near lunchtime already and you felt yourself grow hungry just looking at them eating. You forgot what time the hotel’s restaurant closes at so you grabbed your things and hurried back to your room to change and get lunch with Jaehyun.

What you were expecting was to have a quick shower and change into comfortable clothes then head down to the restaurant to eat. What you didn’t expect was to open the door and come into Jaehyun jacking off in the middle of his bed with his phone in hand, the sounds of sex audible enough for you to quickly close the door behind you, not wanting anyone passing by to see or hear anything they shouldn’t have.

Both of you froze and locked gazes though Jaehyun was the first to break away, quickly pulling the blanket up to his bare chest, trying his best to hide while stopping the video playing on his phone. It was too late, the image of his toned body and flexed muscles already burned into the walls of your brain, his hardened member making you think of things that you shouldn’t.

“Sorry, I should leave-”

“I thought you were at the pool-”

Both of you spoke at the same time, making it terribly more awkward. “I was at the pool, but I thought it was getting close to lunch so I came back,” you explained, talking into the wall, refusing to look in his direction.

“It’s only 10:30 so I thought we’d be getting lunch at like, noon or something,” Jaehyun stuttered out.

You let out a sigh, “no, sadly. I didn’t take my phone with me either so I just guessed what time it was and now here I am.”

There was rustling in the sheets on the bed. “Well, would you like to join me?”

You know what I mean, I like being alone, except for when I play with you.

It was like all common sense left your brain at his question, the heat of your needs overpowering any sanity you had left. You turned around to see that Jaehyun was now sitting up, the blanket now sitting at his waist as he looked at you expectedly. “Do you want me to join you?”

“It sure beats using my hand,” he pointed out, “and you’re already near-naked anyways. But it’s your call.”

You unwrapped the towel around you, letting it drop to the floor, before getting onto the bed as Jaehyun pushed the covers down further, exposing his pink cock to you. Settling between his legs, you took his length in one hand and began slowly pumping him while sucking at the tip, already covered in precum. Jaehyun weakly moaned from your touches, shifting around a little under your grasp. Your other hand, that wasn’t busy sliding up and down his throbbing dick, came to rest upon his lower abdomen. The lines and dips of his muscles flexing underneath your fingers.

As you took him further into your mouth, he began to rock his hips ever so slightly, almost causing you to choke on his cock. You pressed down on his stomach to keep him still, causing him to let out a faint whine, his eyes shut tight and fists balled up in the sheets. When you began bobbing your head, that’s when Jaehyun finally eased up a little now that you were no longer teasing him.

His placed a hand on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his length and you allowed him to do so. He used your mouth as if it were a toy, using it to fuck himself with his head thrown back in bliss. His member twitched once in your mouth and he slowed his pace, not wanting to go overboard too early but you had other plans in mind.

You started using your tongue and swirling it around the head of his dick, one of your hands working at the base of his length where your mouth didn’t reach while the other moved to his pale thigh, using it for leverage. “Fuck,” Jaehyun whispered, his hands flying to grab onto the top of the headboard as you continued to suck on his cock like it was candy.

When his noises started to get higher and more restrained, you backed off, his heavy length falling from your mouth and landing on his abs. You worked on getting your swimwear off while Jaehyun came back to his senses. Once you were entirely naked, he looked you up and down, biting his lip and watching you come back towards him. “Have you ever tried sixty nining?” He asked as you settled on his thigh, you core dripping onto his skin.

“No, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” you hinted, which he took easily. Jaehyun had such a cute smile on his face as he slid on to his back, motioning you to site on his face. It was a shocking contrast in comparison for what he was about to do to you and it was just the slightest bit scary. Before you had even gotten settled over him, he sat up to lick at your core playfully, the warmth of his tongue shocking you and causing you to slap his chest. “Hey, I wasn’t even ready yet,” you complain, looking back over your shoulder at him, to which he responds by delivering a kiss your folds.

You rolled your eyes at him and laid down on top of his firm body, taking hold of his aching member once more. You began licking from the base of his dick to the tip, and that was Jaehyun’s queue to dive in. He started off slowly, running his tongue slowly through your lower lips and lightly playing with your clit. Your tongue copied his, continuing to lick long stripes up his cock.

One of his fingers started lightly prodding at your hole, slowly entering you before pulling back out. Jaehyun gradually sped up his motions as your muscles relaxed around his finger, then he added another one. You moaned around his length, spit dribbling out of your mouth as you focused on the feeling of his digits inside of you. He gently lapped at your clit while speeding up, fucking you with his fingers and drinking up all your juices.

You did your best to give him the same amount of pleasure he was giving you, taking him deeper and faster into your throat. Your spit was dripping down his dick, coating it in a delicious shine. Your walls began pulsing around his fingers and he kept going until you took his member out of his mouth to rasp, “gonna cum.”

“Are you on birth control?” He asked from under you. You nodded, still busy playing with the tip of cock. “God, fuck, we’re really in for it.” Jaehyun sat up, pulling you into his lap and lining up with length with your heated core, “ride me.”

You sunk down onto him, going slower than you needed to just to tease him a little more. Once you were halfway down, you lifted back up so only his tip was inside of you before sitting down and taking the rest of him fully. He let out a groan at the feeling of your warmth, his hands gripping onto your breasts from behind. You placed your hands over his, using them as a way to ground yourself as you started bouncing on his lap.

Jaehyun began lightly squeezing your boobs while you rode him, his large hands kneading at your soft mounds and letting out quiet cries of pleasure whenever your soaking walls covered his entire dick. You leaned forward, your hands dropping to his thighs and his to your hips. In this new position you started riding at a faster pace with Jaehyun aiding you in your movements.

When you started getting tired and slowing down, he took the lead and flipped the both of you over so you laid on your stomach. He grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, placing it under your hips so your glistening pussy was on display for him. He bent down to give it a few more licks before reinserting himself into you. The new angle made him feel so much larger and reach so much deeper, you nearly screamed.

Your hands were desperately holding onto the sheets as Jaehyun began thrusting into you, the sounds of his hips meeting yours filling the room. It felt like he was reaching places that no other man has before and the feeling was absolutely mindblowing. He brought you back to the edge of your orgasm so fast that by the time you realized what was happening, you were yelling his name into the bed, your walls spasming around his member.

Jaehyun slowed down to let you ride out your high and come back to your senses, though once you did, he began to chase his own orgasm. There was a passionate fire inside of him as he continued to push into you, his breathy moans getting louder and louder until he finally released inside of you. He was panting as he came, his hands tightly holding onto the flesh of your ass and hips.

You felt his cock twitching inside of you as he continued to shallowly thrust in and milk himself using your warmth. When he finally pulled out, the mixture of your juices and his came flowing out, dripping down your thighs and onto the white sheets below you. Jaehyun watched the liquid slowly seep out of you, satisfied with himself before grabbing a tissue and cleaning you up.

Your body jolted ever so slightly at his touch. “Sorry,” he giggled, placing a hand on your ass to keep you steady. Looking over at the clock, you saw that it was already past 11 and the reminder of lunch made your stomach growl. “Wow, you really were hungry, huh?” Jaehyun teased when you buried your face into the bed. “Go shower and we can go eat.”

Peeling yourself off of the bed, you dragged yourself to the bathroom, showering as fast as you possibly could while fighting the post-sex high. You made sure to wash yourself well and brush your teeth before coming back out to wake Jaehyun, who had fallen asleep, still butt naked. He woke with a dazed smile, kissing your cheek on his way to the bathroom.

As you headed down for lunch with him, there was a new energy between the two of you. Your conversation with him was a lot lighter than before and he seemed so much more alive. You listened to him fawn over the latest album release from The 1975 and smiled at the way he told you his own analysis of his favorite songs. When he was done, “another one of the list,” you remarked.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around the hotel with Jaehyun, seeing what kinds of amenities they had and going ‘people-watching’ as he had named it. From your the window of your shared room, the two of you made up stories for people as you watching them go about their day until the sun started setting. He voluntarily took pictures for you, the golden hour glow making you look ethereal. The pictures you took of him didn’t do his beauty any justice and it made you wish he could see himself through your eyes. That night, it didn’t feel so awkward to share a bed with Jaehyun, especially with what happened in the exact same spot only a few hours ago.

Instead of your sugarcoated words, I need you to be honest.

Sticking with Jaehyun at the wedding was a lot easier than you thought. You could see other girls eyeing him and start gossiping when he held you closer to him or grabbed your hand. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to talk to you now that you stole away one of the stars of the show. Luckily, you didn’t even have to spend long talking to Jaehyun’s parents since you were seated separately with a few other couples who were around the same age as both of you.

Next to you was a guy named Mark and his girlfriend. Apparently he didn’t go to school and was exploring the music industry instead. He was here because the groom helped to produce a song on one of his bands’ albums. Across from you was another man, Xiaojun who was also here with his girlfriend. He said something similar to Mark but he claimed he’s more of a producer rather than a performer.

Jaehyun wasn’t very talkative, preferring to sit back and watch you interact with the other guys who were the same age as you. You were eagerly talking with Mark about your favorite Bruno Mars songs and debating with his girlfriend whether Mark would reschedule his own wedding in order to perform with Bruno Mars on that day. She thought he would reschedule it. Despite Jaehyun’s quietness, he did still make sure that people knew he didn’t come alone. He kept an arm on the back of your chair or a hand on your thigh at nearly all times and it was quite comforting to be honest.

Things quieted down as the guests began their speeches for the soon-to-be married couple. Your phone vibrated a few times on the table so you picked it up, not wanting to disturb everyone sitting with you. The vibrating continued though, as if someone was sending you one message after the other. You knew it was Jungwoo from this.

When you finally had the opportunity to check your phone without being disrespectful, you saw that he had sent you a picture of yourself with Jaehyun that was taken just a few minutes ago. That definitely surprised you knowing that someone here was watching you but there was no way you’d be able to figure it out. “Does he have to be so close to you?” Jungwoo’s message read.

“It’s just part of the act, don’t worry” you sent back.

“Then don’t act so good” he responded.

As the ceremony proceeded, everyone cheered when the bride and groom finally kissed and welcomed them into their newlywed life. You went to the buffet with Mark’s girlfriend, leaving Jaehyun as he cutely frowned at you with an “I’ll miss you, hurry back,” making everyone at the table chuckle.

“So how did you and Jaehyun meet?” The Mark’s girl asked while you both grabbed plates and utensils.

You paused for a second, never having previously discussed with Jaehyun what you’d say in these situations. “We met at school,” you began, “we had a shared class this past year.”

It seemed you were convincing enough by the way she nodded. “Cute, a campus couple! I always wondered what it would be like to go to school with your significant other.”

“It’s not that great, I swear, especially if he’s as clingy as Jaehyun,” you joked as you started filling your plate, “but anyways, how did you and Mark meet?”

“Ah, it was through one of his bandmates,” she explained, “I work at a studio and one of them recommended working with me since I was a childhood friend.”

“Nice, nice, must be cool to be in the industry,” you commented.

She shook her head, “it’s not all that great, especially since he’s so busy with everything he does. It definitely doesn’t allow for quality time together, that’s why I’m so envious of you and Jaehyun.”

“Really? We don’t really spend a lot of time together either,” you shared, continuing to move down the buffet table.

“You guys seem to connect so well though,” she remarked, “the way he looks at you with that gaze, it’s like he can’t get enough of you.”

“Oh?” This was news to you. “I never noticed that.”

She smiled while nodding over to him. “He does it a lot, look.” Jaehyun immediately looked away as you turned in his direction but you managed to catch him in motion. “Just try glancing over at him ever so often, you’ll get him sooner or later.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” you chimed, a mischevious look on your face as you both returned to the table and you took your seat next to Jaehyun.

He let out a mock sob, “I was so lonely without you, how could you-”

“Get your food, you big baby,” you interrupted. Jaehyun let out a laugh as he stood up, giving you a forehead kiss before leaving for the buffet with the other men on the table.

By the time everyone was roaming around and making small talk with each other, a fair amount of guests were already starting to become inebriated with the various alcoholic drinks being offered, Jaehyun included. He stood next to you with a hand resting on your waist, talking to one of the groomsmen that he apparently went to school with growing up.

“You really grew up well, Jae,” the man in front of you noted.

Jaehyun hid his face behind the wine glass he was holding. “Thank you, you too dude.”

“How long have you guys been together?” He asked.

Jaehyun glanced over at you, prompting you to respond. “Oh, uh, just about two years now.”

The man in front of you seemed visibly surprised. “That’s quite a while, I’m surprised Jae didn’t mention you any sooner.”

“I just wanted to make sure that she was the one, you know?” Jaehyun interjected, trying his best to cover for you.

“Ah, I get it. So is marriage within the plans for you guys?” The other man asked.

“Yes-”

“No-”

You and Jaehyun looked at each other, brows furrowed. “We’re still talking about it,” Jaehyun concluded.

“Alright, let me know when it happens, shoot me an invite,” he said with a laugh.

“Yeah, for sure.” Jaehyun pulled you away from the crowds once the conversation was over. “Why’d you say no?”

“Why did you say yes?” You questioned through gritted teeth.

He shrugged, “just trying to go with the whole ‘couple’ thing.”

“Not all couples have to get married, especially within two years of dating,” you reason.

“We’re madly in love, remember that,” he proclaimed.

You lightly punched his stomach, “no we’re not. We’re literally just friends.”

He frowned at you once more. “Friends don’t have sex with each other-”

“Some friends do...friends with benefits, I don’t know,” you blurted, cutting him off, “I’m your fake girlfriend, that’s what we agreed-”

This time he interrupted you but with a kiss instead of words. You froze when his lips met yours for the first time but you didn’t pull away. When his lips began moving against yours, you moved with him, your eyes fluttering shut. The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before Jaehyun broke it, “friends don’t do that.”

“They don’t,” you agreed, “but I’m your fake girlfriend right now, I have to do it,” you muttered, giving an emphasis on the word ‘fake’.

Killing the knight, feeling the vibe. Give me the knife, cold on my mind.

You and Jaehyun had escaped from the festivities as soon as possible, heading back up to your room where Jaehyun could regain his soberness and you could take a break from being his lover. It seems that resting was not on your agenda though, as you received another series of texts from your actual lover, this time with a picture of the kiss you shared with Jaehyun earlier. “What is this?” was all Jungwoo texted.

You didn’t respond but you knew he could see you had read his message yet you don’t know why you kept the chat open when Jungwoo’s typing bubble appeared. “Does being a fake girlfriend really include kissing him that way?” “Hey” “Answer me” “I know you’re there” “Y/n you better not forget your real relationship.”

Eventually your phone screen turned off on its own like you wished you could do, but you were glued to your seat on the sofa. It felt like whatever move you made only put you at greater risk. It was like walking on a minefield with not a single clue to where the mines were or how large they were. You refused to respond to Jungwoo, scared of only making things worse.

Throughout the rest of the time you were with Jaehyun, you didn’t dare respond to Jungwoo no matter how urgent his messages started to sound. You knew he was worried and wanted explanations but you forced yourself to wait until you got back to campus to give them. Jaehyun seemed to have no memory of your little argument and remained just as clingy and affectionate as before, even on the plane ride back and when he dropped you off in front of your dorm building, he stopped you to kiss the back of your hand as he bid your farewell.

You regret telling Jungwoo when you’d be returning to campus because when you entered the dorm building, you found him standing in front of your room, leaning on the wall with an upset expression. “So are you going to explain to me whatever the hell those pictures were?”

“Jungwoo, look, I already told you, it was an act-”

“No, you look. How am I supposed to not be concerned when I see my own girlfriend kissing another man?” He burst out. “I know you were his fake girlfriend but that doesn’t mean you have to go as far as kissing him does it?”

You turned to him after unlocking the door to your room. “Hey, I’m tired. Can you leave me alone right now? I really don’t want to say something that I don’t mean so could you please just leave me alone?” You were about ready to beg for some peace and quiet, something that your mind hasn’t had in a long time.

“Okay, fine, I’ll repsect that,” Jungwoo caved, “but this isn’t the end of this conversation. Got it?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, closing the door on him.

Tell me honestly. I need bitter coffee more than sweet candy.

Jungwoo had given you the next week to yourself, the summer class he was taking ended up taking more of his time and energy than expected. In that time, you did a whole lot of lying around, balancing the two men in your head, trying to carefully think out all your options and the possible results that stemmed from them. You reached a final decision at one point or another and arranged to meet up with Jaehyun at one of the grassy areas on campus not far from the cafeteria.

When he arrived, he greeted you with a hug, one that you carefully wiggled your way out of, much to his disappointment. “Jaehyun, I’ve been thinking-”

“Uh oh, that’s never a good thing,” he teased.

“I’m serious,” you asserted, making sure he knew the nature of this conversation, “I’ve been thinking, and as much as I enjoyed your company and am grateful that you took me to that wedding, I-”

Words that are nice to hear are just momentary.

“Hey, Y/n, who is that- no, no way,” Jungwoo came storming over from the steps leading up to the cafeteria, “I thought the whole fake girlfriend thing ended when you came back. Why the fuck are you still hanging around with him? Don’t I deserve more of your time than he does? Yet you never do anything to spend time with me.”

“Jungwoo, no, I’m not trying to hang out with him-”

“That’s not what it looks like,” he fired back. Jaehyun audibly sighed from next to you, drawing Jungwoo’s attention to him. “Alright buddy, if you wanted a girlfriend then go ahead, take her. But when she pulls this shit on you, don’t try bringing her back to me, I’m done.”

“Jungwoo, please don’t, he’s not anything to me, I swear,” you pleaded.

“Y/n, I’m done. Get your shit together first before coming to me. I’ve wasted far too much time on you and I’m tired of dealing with this.” With that, he left. For good? You have yet to find out.

There was a pause in your world as you let the dust settle. Your mind was still reeling and you felt the slight sting of tears welling up until Jaehyun opened his mouth once more. “So he did say that you’re mine now, right?”

“That’s not the fucking point,” you nearly yelled. “I genuinely love him and wanted to fix my relationship with him, and now here you are, screwing everything over.”

“To be fair, you never told me that you had a boyfriend in the first place,” Jaehyun traded off, “so technically, I did nothing wrong here.”

“You know what, fuck off, Jaehyun.”

He raised his hands in defense, “jeez, are you that serious about this dude?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “or well, I was, at least. Because now I don’t even know if he wants me back.”

“Do you want to hear my take on this?” Jaehyun offered.

“No, not really,” you sighed, but Jaehyun continued on anyways.

“I think you should go back to him and try sort things out. He had you before I did anyways, and if that ring you keep wearing is from him, he must have been in deep to do something like that.” His observation about your ring truly startled you but you were too numb to say anything. “And if he absolutely refuses you and hates your guts then well, I’m still here. My feelings for you are still genuine.”

I need sincerity to wake me up, I need you.

“Fucking hell, just leave me alone you asshole. I’m sick and tired of seeing your stupid fucking face,” you retorted.

He chuckled at your outburst, “alright, I’ll see you around I guess.”

You watched as he, too, walked away from you for possibly the last time. It felt as if all the pieces of your heart had been shredded into confetti and thrown into the air in some kind of sick party. This truly felt like a huge nightmare that you could wake up from but yet you knew you couldn’t.

You thought you gave both of the men your best and that his would all work out in the end, but all you got in return was whiplash.

Shawty give me whiplash.

Autoplay: If you liked this, you may also like || baby don’t like it - j.jh ||

322 notes · View notes

mageofseven · 4 years ago

Note

Bros and undateables react to MC who bakes in the middle of the night when stressed

I read this and my brain was like "so Beel's dream MC?". Of course, doing it out of stress isn't good, but Beel would definitely enjoy midnight sweets~

Anyway, will do, Nonnie! Please enjoy 😊

Also, like always, I'm splitting this into two parts: one for Brothers and the other Undateables for space reasons.

Lucifer:

Was heading to the kitchen to get himself more coffee to continue his paperwork.

When he saw the kitchen light on, he expected to catch Beel raiding the fridge.

Instead, he found MC at the oven, pulling out another set of cookies to add to the already monstrous pile of them on the counter.

"MC, what are you doing?"

The human jumped at his voice then gave an awkward laugh.

"Baking..."

"Yes, I have eyes, Love." He tells them. "What I mean is, why are you baking at 1am?"

"...I dunno."

The man sighed before approaching the human and turning off the oven.

"Regardless, I believe you've made enough cookies for one night. It's time for bed."

The human didn't move however.

"Darling?"

"I can't sleep..."

MC proceeds to explain how they get bad anxiety at night and how usually they can power through it, but with some school stressors on top of it, it became overwhelming and they just needed to do something to distract themselves.

The demon frowned.

"Love, you should have just came to me if you were having issues."

"But you're busy with your work--"

"That doesn't matter if you need me though."

The firstborn smoothed down their human's hair, which was messy.

"Now follow me to my room. I'll make sure you get some rest."

"But what about the cookies?"

"I'm sure Beel will wander in and take care of them for you."

Mammon:

Just got back from a party and was heading to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading up to his room

Only to find MC awake and... icing a cake?

"Oi! Human! What's with the cake?"

"I baked it."

"Well duh. But why?"

The human finished icing it, making the cake a colorful one with all of the brothers' colors.

"Because I wanted to." The human shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Do you want a piece?"

"Uh.. sure." The demon mumbled.

He hopped onto the counter next to them as he watched them grab a plate and cut a piece for him.

MC handed the plate and a fork to him.

"It's red velvet." They said proudly.

"Yeah, yeah..." The man mumbled, taking a bite.

His eyebrows raised.

"Man, this is good!" His face went red at his words so he dialed back. "I mean, its okay... ya know."

MC gave a small smile, but it quickly fell into a heavier look.

"Hey, what's with that face??"

MC quietly hopped on the free counter next to him.

They didn't answered, just lightly kicked their feet as they stared at the floor.

"Oh c'mon, Babe, talk to me 'ere!"

MC sighed.

"I'm sorry. My anxiety is just bad tonight... I wanted to keep busy."

...oh.

The Avatar of Greed sat the plate down and put his arm around his Human.

"I don't get why you went to straight to baking..." The demon thought aloud. "But it doesn't matter. I'm home now, got that? You don't have to be anxious on your own..."

MC gave a soft smile.

"Thanks, Babe."

"Nothin' to thank me for. Now just let The Great Mammon take care of you!"

Leviathan:

This boy's sleep schedule is kinda fucked up

So it's not unusual for him to be up at 3am.

The Avatar of Envy ran out of pop in his room so he ventured out to the kitchen to get some more.

Which is how he found MC in the kitchen with like... seven cheesecakes???

"...What am I looking at?"

"Cheesecake."

"Well duh, normie." The demon rolled his eyes. "But why did you make cheesecake at like, 3am?"

Silence. Levi was suddenly worried that they hurt his Human's feelings and the look is their eyes definitely wasn't filled with the positivity that he's used to.

"Look..." He came up and hugged them close. "I just don't get it. Please don't be upset."

MC laid their head against their boyfriend's chest.

"It's fine." They mumbled. "I'm sorry... I just couldn't sleep so... I just came in to bake and this was the outcome."

"You should have just came to my room." He pulled back to look at them. "You could have been watching me play Rune Factory or something."

MC turned away from the demon, wrapping their arms around themselves.

"I'm not too clingy... right?"

"I... what?"

MC sighed.

"I didn't go to you because I was worried that you just wanted time to yourself and I'm always with you during the day..."

Levi just shook his head at every word they just said.

"Look... I always want my Henry with me." He blushed. "And yeah, I like my time away from other people, but that doesn't include you; just other normies."

"Are... are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah." He mumbled. "So... just don't worry about it, okay?"

Satan:

This man usually has a better sleep schedule but tonight he had stayed up reading just a bit too long.

He started heading to the kitchen to get some water and found MC with counter surfaces covered with cupcuakes while they looked really stressed and teary-eyed down at the one they were drawing on with icing.

"Kitten?"

MC jumped and quickly raised their hand to wipe their eyes.

Satan strode over and stopped them, looking down into their eyes.

"Kitten, what's wrong?" He wiped away a fallen tear.

They avoided their boyfriend's gaze.

"It's not working..." They mumbled.

"What are you talking about?"

"The cats aren't turning out right..." Their gaze falls to the dozen cupcakes with cat faces drawn on them in icing, but didn't meet the human's standards apparently.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. Surely they weren't in the kitchen crying over cupcakes because their designs weren't coming out well?

He sighed.

"Give me your hand." He took the human's hand with the bag of icing and brought it over a cupcake. He guided them with the design and helped them make a cleaner-looking cat.

"Thank you." MC sniffled.

Satan pressed a kiss to their forehead.

"Now what's the real issue, Little One?"

MC didn't say a word, just lightly sat the icing bag down and stared at the cupcakes.

Their boyfriend waited patiently and just rubbed circles on their hand with his thumb.

"I... I'm not gonna be sent away if I fail a class, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

MC shifted their gaze to the ground.

The blonde sighed once more and wrapped his arms around their waist.

"Talk to me, Kitten."

They sniffled.

"I'm failing my Hexes class." They mumbled. "This semester got so much harder and my grade took a nose dive... and the requirements to stay in the program say I gotta keep my grades in a certain range..."

"MC... you should have told me sooner." He tightened his embrace around them and set his chin on their shoulder.

"B-But you can't always help me--"

"Yes I can, Kitten. I'm always ready to help you when you need me."

"Satan..."

He kissed their cheek.

"And trust me when I say I would never let anyone take you away from me." He told them. "I'd fight the whole Devildom to keep you by my side."

He placed one last kiss on their temple.

"I'll help you study tomorrow. For now, let's clean up and get some rest."

Asmodeus:

Another one who just came home from a party and was heading towards his room when he heard a frustrated sigh come from the kitchen.

The demon poked his head inside and found MC staring down at... something. Whatever it was supposed to be, it just looked like charcoal now.

"Doll? What are you doing up?"

MC sighed.

"Baking." They eyed the black brick on the counter. "Or well... tried to anyway."

Asmo stepped inside and immediately went over to kiss his human.

They smiled a bit.

"Welcome home."

He smiled back and gave his Doll a big hug.

MC relaxed into the hug.

"My anxiety is just bad tonight for basically no reason." They explained, burying their face in the crook of his neck. "I was waiting for you to come home."

"Aww, Dolly." He pulled back and kissed their check. "You should have texted me! I would of been home sooner!"

"No, no, it fine." They pulled away. "Did you have fun?"

"Yep! Of course, I would have had even more fun if you came me, but I still made do~."

He gave them another kiss, this time on their nose.

"Now why don't we lay down now, hmm?"

MC smiled.

"Okay, thank you, Azzy."

Beelzebub:

Midnight kitchen raid. A usual nightly occurrence.

This time however, the Avatar of Gluttony's nose was greeted by a sweet smell as he approached the kitchen.

"Oh Beely!" The human displayed their plate full of fudge squares to him. "Please try them and tell me what you think."

Was he dreaming? The man felt like he was dreaming. Still, he didn't hesitate to accept the human's offer.

He made quick work of the fudge and smiled happily at his Muffin.

"Good?"

"Amazing." He stepped forward and hugged his human.

After a moment though, his smile fell.

"Wait...what are you doing up?"

Silence.

"Muffin?"

MC broke away and sat the now empty plate in the sink.

"I dunno. I just couldn't sleep." They explained. "I guess I just..."

The demon stared down at them, waiting patiently.

"Ugh..." MC let their face fall into his chest.

He stroked their hair quietly, brows furrowing in concern.

"I got a test on Friday and no matter how much I study for it, I can't stop stressing about it." They sighed.

"What class?"

"History..." They mumbled. "Why do we have to cover a whole century of events in one test?"

Beel patted their head and hugged their human close.

"Can I sleep with you tonight, Beely? I don't think I wanna go back to my room."

He kissed the top of their head.

"Of course, Muffin."

Belphegor:

Believe or not, its common for Sleepy Boy to be up late at night.

He sleeps so much during the day that he's usually awake starting from after his dinner nap to about 4 or 5 am.

Hence him being awake at 2am and heading towards MC's room, only to notice that their room was empty, but there was noise coming from the kitchen.

He found his Human sitting on the floor in front of the oven, staring into it.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the brownies to bake." They said dully, not looking away from the oven.

"Are you baked?"

MC lightly hit his arm, but broke out into a small smile.

He smirked.

"Come on, I mean, who bakes brownies at 2am and just stares at them?"

Their smile fell, as did their gaze; they stared down at their bare feet.

Belphie frowned.

"Okay, what's the problem, Butthead?"

No response. He gave a small flick to their head.

"Ow..." The human rubbed their forehead, looking to the Avatar of Sloth as he stared expectantly at them.

They sighed.

"I've been getting nightmares lately... at least I think I have been."

The demon raised an eyebrow.

"You think you've had nightmares?"

"I... can't actually remember them." They mumbled. "All I know is that I'll have them and wake up crying with my heart pounding... but I can never remember why. Like, what the dream was about..."

"How long has this been going on?"

"About... two weeks I think?"

He flicked them on the forehead again.

"Ow!" They rubbed their forehead once more.

"Dummy. You are literally dating the demon whose an expert on sleep and stuff."

Silence. He sighed.

"Come here." He pulled them in for a hug. "Come to my room. I'll keep the nightmares away, got it?"

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years ago

Text

George Weasley x Reader

Request: Hi! Could I please request situations #2 & 4 from your prompt list with #7 from the fluffy/funny section with George Weasley? 💗💗💗 @thatdumbbitchxx

2.Truth or dare with a twist

4. AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

7. a: “That's going to hurt in the morning” b: “It hurts now actually”

A/N: This sounds so cute! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: FLUFF OH MY LORD THIS IS SOFT, George injury, Swearing, so many commas IDK how to write, slight Angelina x Fred if you squint, I think that’s it!

“You did not convince Mcgonagall to do a prank with you, that’s a straight up lie” Oliver said, crossing his arms in disbelief.

“Its true! She made me promise never to tell, I swear it’s my deepest darkest secret! It would have never worked without her help” Fred said dramatically, making the group laugh.

You and the Gryffindor quidditch team where currently in an enchanted tent on the pitch. It was nearing the end of the semester, and since you were all really close, you decided to spend the night on the pitch to spend some time together. (With Madam Hooch’s permission of course)

“Anyway moving on!” Angelina said loud enough to get everyone's attention. “George, truth or dare”

Now truth or dare with the quidditch team was brutal. The truths were intense, the dares were near impossible, and if you couldn’t complete either, you had to confess a secret about yourself (Fred's being that his ‘best prank’ was actually executed by a professor).

“Dare” He said with a grin.

“All you’ve done are dares!” You complained, making some of the other team mates laugh.

Secretly you were wanting him to choose truth so you could discover if he has a crush on anybody. More specifically you. You have had a crush on the younger Weasley twin for some time now, and it seemed that no matter how many hints you gave, he never seemed to get the hint, only ever treating you as a friend.

Angelina was aware of this, and tried to think of a dare risky enough to make him cave and confess a secret.

“I dare you, to do a backflip on your broom” She said, a grin spread across her face.

“That’s it?” He asked.

“I’m not finished” She replied, causing the other team members to look at each other nervously. “I dare you to do a backflip on your broom, blindfolded”

You glared at her. She was basically saying confess or break your neck, and as much as you wanted to know if George liked you, you weren’t willing to risk him getting hurt. You opened your mouth to protest, but George beat you to it.

“Fine” He said, standing to leave the tent, broom in hand. Angelina's face fell, not expecting to actually agree and you quickly stood to follow him.

“George its a stupid dare, come on we can figure something else out” You practically pleaded, walking alongside the boy.

“What, worried about me Y/L/N?” George responded in a joking tone.

“Yes! I mean, yeah” You shouted before correcting your voice, causing George to laugh.

“It’ll be fine, I have my lucky charm with me” He said smiling at you, causing you to blush a bit.

You reached the middle of the pitch and stopped. You along with the rest of the group stood in a line, watching as George mounted his broom before using his tie to cover his eyes.

“Absolutely brilliant idea Ange” You heard Fred say from beside you, causing you to turn and glare. “What? He’ll be fine, and then you can give him a congratulatory kiss, and maybe a little extr-” You punched his arm, swiftly shutting him up before he rubbed the spot you struck.

“Ouch! Yeesh I’m just teasing, or am I?” He asked smirking

You shook your head and turned your attention to the other red head, your heart pounding in your chest as he took a deep breath and set off on his broom. He started getting higher, going almost vertically before completing the flip, leaving plenty of space between him and the ground. Cheers rang out through the group.

“Absolutely brilliant!” Fred shouted, you cheering and clapping as well.

“Well done George!” You shouted, noticing he was still moving forward a bit fast. “Do you think he-”

You watched as Georges arms flew up in victory, taking off the blindfold just in time to watch as he ran into the middle quidditch goal, knocking him off his broom and sending him to the ground. He wasn’t too far off the ground at this point, but it still looked rough.

“George!” You yelled, sprinting to the other side of the pitch, Fred and Angelina following close behind you.

You ran up to the boy who was now sprawled out on the ground, kneeling beside him to look him over, only to be met with the sound of laughter.

“George what the fuck, you had me worried sick!” You yelled pushing his shoulder, only causing him to laugh harder.

“I’m sorry, but that was wicked” George laughed

“Wicked indeed brother” Fred congratulated as he got closer, reaching out his hand to help George stand.

You quickly stood and watched George got his footing, noticing how he flinched at the action, Fred and Angelina taking notice as well. You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but Fred spoke first.

“Say George, you do look a little worse for wear, maybe you should take it easy” He said in a worried tone, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“He doesn’t seem to bad” Angelina started before looking towards Fred who was now giving her a knowing look, darting his eyes to you, then George. “Actually you know what, better play it safe”

“Should we take him to the hospital wing?” You asked

“Oh no, no need for that, but you should stick by him just in case” Fred said, pushing George to stand next to you.

“Yeah, in fact, you two should share a room! Broom related injuries can flare up at night so Y/n should be there just in case” Angelina said in a feigned serious tone.

The pieces started to click in your head and you glared at Angelina, who was desperately trying to hide her grin.

“Ok, that's absolutely not true, and where would you sleep?” You asked Angelina, trying to get her to give up on her little plan.

“See! You’re so knowledgeable on medical stuff, even more reason to stay with him! As for the sleeping situation, Angelina is more than welcome to bunk with me” Fred said cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m still here you know, and I feel fine” George interrupted

“Of course dear brother, but you may be in shock. Believe me you’re in good hands” Fred said as he slung an arm around Angelina before making their way back to the tent, leaving you and George standing next to each other, wondering what the hell just happened.

After a few moments, you and George snapped out of your stunned silence and started making your way back to the tent, joking about how this was most likely all some big excuse so Angelina and Fred could get together. You continued to joke with each other until you reached the tent, the other members of the group all having disappeared to their own rooms, leaving only one remaining for you and George.

And of course, there was only one bed.

One bed, with George, who you’ve had a crush on since fourth year, who was completely unaware of your feelings.

You were going to kill Angelina

“You know, I feel completely fine so I can just take the floor” George said after a moment, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What, don’t be ridiculous George, if anyone's taking the floor its me” You argued.

“Well I don’t want you to sleep on the floor either, so looks like were sharing” George started, before quickly adding “Unless you’re uncomfortable, because I don’t want you to-”

“George its ok, we’re both adults, it’ll be fine for one night” You said with a humorous tone that you hoped would help hide your nervousness.

“Yeah totally” George replied.

“Great”

“I’m going to get changed” You said

“Me too” He said

“Great”

You left the room and stood outside, face palming yourself. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you’ you mumbled to yourself.

You made your way to the main room, seeing your pajamas were already set out by Angelina, which you were somewhat thankful for. You quickly got changed into your large Tee and some shorts before heading back to the room, hesitating before you walked in.

George was sitting on the edge of the bed, now wearing sleep shorts but his shirt from earlier was still on. He looked up when you walked in, giving you a soft smile before returning his eyes to his hands, which were currently fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“You ok?” You asked, walking further into the room.

“Yeah, yeah I just messed my shoulder up a bit so I’m having trouble getting this off” He mumbled, motioning to his shirt.

“...Can I help?” You asked, sitting next to him.

“You don’t have to, I’ll figure it out I just-” He started,

“George” You interrupted, holding his face in your hands so he would look at you. “Please let me help”

He didn’t respond, just looked at you before letting out a sigh and nodding his head. You moved you hands from his face to the bottom of his shirt, slowly starting to lift it. You let you eyes dart to his exposed skin, before re-focusing yourself. George lifted his arms and your fingers brushed against his back as you lifted the fabric off his body, making his breath hitch.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask, stopping your movements.

“No, no you’re fine” George replied quickly.

“Ok, just let me know if anything hurts” You said before continuing to gently lift his shirt until it it was finally removed.

“Thank you” George said softly, turning to face you but your eyes were glued to the shirt in your hands, too nervous to look him in the eyes.

“Of course” You replied, giving him a quick glance and a smile before returning your gaze to your hands quickly handing him the shirt which he took. “Is your shoulder ok? Because I can go get some ice or-”

You were cut of my Georges hand finding your face, making you look up at him before his lips were suddenly on yours. Shivers ran up your spine, and all you could feel was him, his soft lips on yours, the smell of sweets and fireworks, his warm hand on your face. And then just as soon as it was there, it was gone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, shit I’m sorr-” George started pulling away, but you didn’t let him finish.

You moved your hand to his face and pulled him in to re-connected your lips. His hands moved to your hips and he pulled you onto his lap so you were now straddling him. Once again, you were lost in the kiss, only feeling him. And once again, he pulled away.

“Wait wait hold on, are you kissing me because I ate shit or because you actually like me?” George asked, making you hold back a laugh.

“I actually like you, I have for a while actually” You replied, making a smile spread across his face.

“I’ve liked you for a while as well” He responded, making your eyes widen in shock.

“Seriously? I was giving so many signs and I thought you were never going to catch on, that’s why Angelina tried to get you to confess a secret” You said

“No, Fred started the game to see if he could you to confess a secret” George said, realization suddenly washing over the both of you.

“They are truly evil” You said, almost impressed by their ability to secretly work together.

“True, but I also owe them my thanks” George smiled, re-connecting his lips to yours, poking your sides which made you giggle into the kiss, allowing George to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Ok, maybe Angelina and Fred deserved a thank you.

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

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I wasn’t sure which direction to go with this for a while so that’s why it took so long to post, either way I hope you enjoyed. Also, I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be more Fluffy or smutty, so I left room for a part two if you’d like. Thank you again for the request!

#george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #george weasley x you #george x reader

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 4 years ago

Text

What in Carnation? ~ Bucky x Reader College!AU Oneshot

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! Whether your single or in a relationship I wish you a very happy day filled with all sorts of love.

Summary: The swim team is holding a flowergram fundraiser for Valentine’s day, and you have a secret admirer.

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, fluff

Word count: 1763

Divider by @whimsicalrogers

“Please, please, please!” Wanda begged as she tugged on your arm, guiding you away from the library that you really needed to get to.

“Didn’t I already participate in your fundraiser? I’m pretty sure we have like a box and a half of candy bars that I bought,” you teased.

“That was last semester’s fundraiser. This is a new semester.”

“I gathered. Alright fine. What is it this time?”

“Valentine’s Day flower-grams.”

“Excuse me?”

“You order flowers for people and we deliver them to their dorms for Valentine’s Day,” Wanda explained as she moved around to the other side of the sign up table.

“And who exactly am I sending flowers to. I don’t have a Valentine,” you reminded her.

“I’ll be your Valentine, Y/n,” Pietro offered with a wink.

“Thanks, Piet. But I think a certain computer genius would be awfully upset,” you grinned at him.

His cheeks turned pink at the mention of his crush, Skye, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“It doesn’t have to just be for a valentine. Lots of people are sending them to friends or roommates.”

“You angling for some flowers, Maximoff?”

She shrugged, grinning at you.

“Maybe. But seriously you can send them to anybody. Just one or two. Pleeeease.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“Alright. Alright. Since it’s for such a good cause.”

“The swim team thanks you, doll.”

Your eyes widened at the voice, and the Maximoff twins held back laughter at your stunned look.

“Oh hey, Bucky.” You turned and greeted him, fiddling with your pen.

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Oh you know. The usual. Midterms are kicking my butt. How about you?”

“Pretty much the same. I’m looking forward to the break in a couple of weeks.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“Not really. Probably just binge watching something on Netflix.”

“Sounds ideal. I’ll probably do the same.”

“Nice.”

He trailed off, straightening out the pile of order forms.

You weren’t sure what else to say, so you started filling out the tags Wanda had slid towards you, relieved when Bucky was distracted by another customer. You sent Wanda and Nat a few each, and one each to Pietro and Thor– all white carnations for friendship.

You were going to just give Wanda a twenty, so you had two flowers left to go. You hesitated, nibbling your bottom lip before sneaking a peek at Bucky. You had had a crush on the swim team captain for a while, but you’d never really worked up the courage to say anything.

In a brief moment of bravery (or insanity) you filled out one last tag and circled the red option on the order form. You handed them over to Wanda along with the twenty dollar bill. She grinned and gave you a thumbs up when she saw the top one.

“Thanks a million, Y/n.”

“You’re very welcome. Now can I go study?”

“Yes, you can. Did you want to grab dinner tonight?”

You shook your head. “I’m going to stay here until closing probably. I’ll see you back in the room.”

“Okay. But at least go get some snacks before you go in there.”

“I’m all stocked up. I’m good.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

“See ya. Bye, Piet. Bye, Bucky.”

You waved and hurried away to claim your carrel for the night.

The next two weeks flew by as papers and exams took over your life. But before you knew it, you had successfully navigated the midterms season of your final semester of college. You were in good spirits, and even the prospect of being single on Valentine’s Day couldn’t dampen them.

You picked up a bottle of sparkling wine, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, and a bag of mini donuts on your way home from class. You were looking forward to taking a long hot shower and settling in for a date with your neglected Netflix account for the rest of the weekend, and possibly your entire week off.

The last thing you were expecting was a doormat full of red carnations.

Vision really went all out.

You scooped up the bunches of flowers and unlocked the door. Inside, you set everything down on your desk before putting the ice cream and alcohol away.

They can wait until after a shower. You decided after eyeing the flowers.

You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the stress and anxiety from the last two weeks.

Your roommate was sitting on her bed typing when you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Wanda.”

“Oh hey, Y/n. How’d your exam go?”

“Pretty well I think. I felt like I knew everything they covered, but we’ll see. But it’s over with so I’m not going to worry about it.”

“That’s a good attitude.”

“You know, you’ve got a really supportive boyfriend,” you remarked as you sat down at your desk.

“What makes you say that?” she asked, cocking her head at you.

“I mean he bought all those carnations for the fundraiser.”

You gestured to the pile of carnations.

“Viz didn’t buy those. They’re for you.”

“What?��

“Yeah, I took mine.” She pointed to the small bouquet occupying an old cookie tin.

You quickly sorted through the predominantly red bundle. The few white ones were from your friends – Wanda, Nat, Pietro, and Thor. But what you hadn’t realized was that the remaining red ones – all two dozen of them - were bound together.

You flipped over the tag attached and read it to yourself.

To: Y/n

Happy Valentine’s Day!

These carnations aren’t nearly as beautiful as you, but I hope they make you smile anyways.

I couldn’t quite find the words in person, but I’d really like to take you out.

If you’re up for it, meet me in front of the fountain at 8:00.

- Your Secret Admirer

“Who are they from?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“It just says a secret admirer. This has to be a prank,” you frowned.

“Why would it be a prank?”

“I mean, who would have a crush on me. Brock or someone is probably trying to get me there and then I’m going to end up on youtube, Loser Gets Stood Up on Valentine’s Day. It’ll be ten minutes of jump cuts of me standing alone set to Wii music.”

“That’s a tad cynical don’t you think? Besides I have it on good authority that they’re really from someone with a crush on you.”

“Whose authority?”

“Mine. He bought them from me.”

“Who is it?”

Wanda shook her head.

“Can’t tell you. Flower gram seller/buyer confidentiality.”

“Not a thing,” you grumbled.

“Y/n, trust me. This isn’t a prank. And you’ll be glad you went. I promise.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

And you did. She would never lie to you or set you up to be embarrassed.

“So what do I do?”

“Put on your prettiest dress and meet your Prince Charming, naturally.”

You glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven.

“Will you help me?”

“Of course.”

In a surprisingly short amount of time, Wanda had helped you pick out a dress and shoes and helped you with your makeup. At 7:55 you found yourself walking across campus towards the fountain in the quad. You hugged your black and white peacoat more tightly around you, grateful for the headband you’d grabbed on your way out the door and the black tights you’d decided to wear.

You hesitated a few yards away from the back of the fountain. There were a few people milling about and you were trying to see if you could recognize anyone. You caught sight of someone dressed in all black in front of the fountain, holding a bouquet of red roses and checking their watch but you couldn’t quite make out who it was.

Taking a deep breath, you walked closer gasping when you saw their face.

Bucky?

You nearly turned tail and ran, but he turned and spotted you. The smile that bloomed on his face quelled your nerves and before you knew it your feet had carried you to him.

“You came.”

“I came.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He extended the flowers to you.

“These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful, Bucky. You really didn’t have to. The carnations were more than enough.”

“I know but red roses are your favorite.”

You cocked your head, surprised by the matter of fact statement.

“You mentioned it once when we were all watching a movie.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I remember lots of things about you, doll. Shall we get going?” he asked offering you his elbow.

“We shall.” You slipped your arm through his. “What is on the itinerary?”

“Dinner at the Hub. And then I thought we could see a movie.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Dinner was delicious and you loved how easy it was to talk to Bucky. You’d never hung out one on one before, but he was quick witted and smart and the few silences you had were companionable. You took an Uber to the movies, but decided to walk home afterwards.

Warmth spread through you when he grabbed your hand.

“Did you know that it was me?”

You shook your head, smiling shyly. “No. But I hoped.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while,” you admitted.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while too. The team knew and kept trying to get me to say something but I thought you were out of my league. But then I saw you’d sent me carnations and I got my hopes up.”

“Isn’t it lucky you guys held a flowergram fundraiser.”

“Yeah, lucky.” Bucky’s cheeks tinged even pinker in the cold.

You smirked and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Whose idea was the fundraiser, Bucky?”

“You know I don’t really remember.”

“Bucky,” you drawled his name.

“Alright, mine. I figured even if you didn’t like me. I’d get to give you flowers, and you absolutely deserve flowers.”

“You’re too sweet, you know. And I’m very flattered you planned a whole fundraiser around me.”

“A very successful fundraiser,” he pointed out, taking a step closer to you.

“I bet.”

You grinned up at him.

“Can I kiss you, doll?”

You nodded eagerly. His lips were soft as they pressed against yours and your fingers clutched at the lapels of his jacket.

“Happy Valentine’s, Bucky,” you whispered against his lips.

“Happy Valentine’s, Doll,” he whispered back before kissing you.

And it was.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

Bucky/Sebastian Tag List

@waywardpumpkin @sadanddeadsoul @captain-maaarvel @isaxhorror @run-your-cleverboy @ria132love @mbsgr @hereisanapplepie @thejourneyneverendsx @stevieboyharrington @mywinterwolf @jendz33 @aikeia

Marvel Tag List

@hdthdthdt @sophiatomlinson23 @scarlettsoldier @acupofhotlatte @slender--spirit @petitesmate @libbymouse

Permanent Tag List

@iamwarrenspeace @jayzayy @bexboo616 @neoqueen306 @santheweird @rowenaravencalw @buckitybarnes @prxttybirdz @sergeantjbuckybarnes @captainsamwlsn @nyxveracity @queenoftrash97 @walkingtravesty97 @memyselfandmaddox @lowkeybuckyb @whiskey2011 @averyrogers83 @buckybarneshairpullingkink @beansparker @coralphantomninja @xxashy999xx @ravennightingaleandavatempus @paintballkid711 @whosmarisaaarw @silverkitten547 @yknott81 @thefridgeismybestie @crispy-kitten @greyeyedsmile14 @loving-life-my-way @geeksareunique @rachelsficcollections @captainscanadian @palaiasaurus64 @sea040561 @kakakatey @supermusicallee

#Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky x Y/n #Bucky Barnes x Y/n #Bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x You #College!Bucky Barnes x reader #College!Bucky x reader #College!Bucky Barnes #College!Au

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shinysobi · 3 years ago

Text

i came in from the outside, burnt out from the joyride (ii)

this was born out of a conversation with @akinosakiya, so all credits go to her >.<

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | coming soon

ao3

(A/N: so... i am extremely sorry for not updating,,, uni and life has been generally kicking my ass pretty horribly (im in my final semester lol) and while i am not generally very happy with this chapter, it is important because it sets up a lot of things in the future yeeet)

word count: 4955

Attorney Park wishes her good luck as she leaves for the courthouse the next day, and Sol can’t help but feel as though he was laughing at her for some reason, and frantically checks for food stuck in her teeth on the way to the courthouse. There isn’t any, so she’s left to wonder exactly what the hell he meant when he had sent her off with a very cryptic “see you soon, Kang Sol.”

“What did he even mean?” she mutters to herself, calling her sister, “Ah, Byeol, remember to go to your academy today, all right?”

“Okay, eonni,” her sister replies, “you’re at the courthouse, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, I have a case to win,” she replies, and Byeol wishes her good luck before the call goes silent, and she allows herself a rare moment of self-reflection, taking in the image of the Courthouse. It’s imposing, but she curiously feels at home here, in the middle of the city where the noise of the cars is so loud, she can’t hear the person next to her sometimes. There’s something magical about the courthouse, and she isn’t romanticising it, but the idea of fighting for justice, no matter how imperfect, it fills her with pride, even more so when she knows that what she is doing is for good.

Not to say that there aren’t any downsides to it, either. She gets threats almost on the daily, from disgruntled clients and from people who want her to take the case, even though she knows it would be an affront to her dignity. The Dean’s voice floats into her ear, reciting the Attorneys-at-act law that allows her to reject a case if she wants to. Right. It does not feel like an insult to her now like it had done then, the act, because she chose to take this case on, and yet, here she is, standing in front of the courthouse, wearing her nicest clothes (Yeseul had raised an eyebrow, but she was too tired to pay any attention to her) and dreading her turn to go inside.

“Eonni!” a voice calls out, and it’s Yeseul, dressed for a case, “how long do you have before you have to go in?” Sol doesn’t need to check her watch to tell the time that is left, ten minutes on the dot, and she’s waiting for her client to come through, still in police custody, something which she had failed to stop, “are you staring off into space again?”

She recovers quickly, “no, I was just waiting for the defendant to be brought here by the police.” She turns to Yeseul, who’s evidently not had much sleep, “why are you here in my case? Didn’t you wrap one up today?”

“Ah, I did,” Yeseul smiles, taking a hold of Sol’s arm, “but I’m here now, aren’t I? I thought you would need some support, you know, since you—”

She doesn’t complete the sentence. She doesn’t need to. Sol smiles at her, loops their arms together, and says, “do you want to have coffee?”

Yeseul grins, “I’d love to.”

—

No matter how many times she’s walked in here, and no matter how much the courthouse makes her feel at ease, there’s still a part of her that is anxious when she stands in front of it, hoping that she might be able to provide adequate justice to the person she was defending. It throws her off sometimes, the court of law. But she can always find her way back to it, and perhaps this is why she loves it, loves being able to defend people from being betrayed by the same system that they had put so much trust in, betrayed, just like she had been. It’s as though the law is apologising to her, albeit in its own, slightly twisted way.

The defendant, Je Sang-Hee, sits at her designated position, looking at her, and Sol draws herself up to her full height, careful to not catch anyone’s eye on the other side of the courthouse. Its oddly suffocating, the courthouse today, the air thick with a sort of anticipation that she doesn’t really want to address. Yeseul squeezes her arm, whispering, “you’ll do good, eonni,” and all of a sudden, she’s standing there, alone, with only her wits there for help. Shit. I wish I had had gotten drunk last night. At least this would have been hazier.

She approaches the bench, the defendant sitting silently, and tries to reassure her, “don’t worry, we’ll clear your name, all right?” she’s met with silence, as Sang-Hee only nods, her eyes welling with unshed tears. It’s heart-breaking, the way Sang-Hee has accepted her punishment, accepted that she would be going to prison anyway, so, nothing really matters. Sol doesn’t want that for her. She doesn’t want that for anyone, not even the worst of criminals. Sure, she may not be defending them in the court of law, but everyone should benefit from the assumption of innocence. She may not be the one speaking up for them, but she does wish that people have the opportunity to prove themselves innocent.

There aren’t many people in attendance in the courthouse today, which is a blessing, but she also has to deal with pesky reporters stationed outside, who seemed to have taken an interest in the woman accused of attempted murder, despite having really, no evidence against her. It was funny, how people jumped to conclusions, just because of the person’s backgrounds, or due to a particular defamatory article that may have been published about them online. Sang-Hee had had one published about her, filled with lies so vile that Sol couldn’t even read through it once.

“Sang-Hee ssi,” She says, approaching the defendant’s bench, “how are you feeling today?”

Je Sang-Hee looks at her, eyes still shining with tears, and lowers her gaze. She can’t even speak. Sol is angry, of course, but even more than the anger that simmers inside of her, is frustration, for not being able to protect her client, frustration at being unable to be the person there for the victim.

“Eonni,” Yeseul’s voice drags her out of her little reverie, “eonni, I think Joon-hwi oppa is here now.”

Sol squints at the younger girl, “who told you that?”

Yeseul holds up her phone, “Bok-gi is going to be here too, so he texted me. The two of them are going to come along, him and Jiho. Jiho should be here by now, but he hasn’t texted yet.”

Sol just—stares at Yeseul for a moment, trying to understand the volley of information that had just been thrown at her, in a manner not unlike that of Professor Yang, the man who, Sol recollects with regret, had heard about this whole mess from Sol B, but had not once offered to help. She didn’t need his help, though. It’s just that he could have offered to help her, and it would have been nice.

“Eonni,” Yeseul says, warning evident in her voice, “he’s here.”

What she doesn’t say, but Sol knows, is the sentence, don’t worry, I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you. She didn’t need it, per se, but it felt nice to know that at least one person had her back in this courthouse. Bok-gi was of course, on her side too, but she knew he wouldn’t sacrifice Joon-Hwi. Not now, anyway.

“You have your back to the Prosecutor’s bench,” Yeseul elbows her lightly, and she realises that yes, she has indeed been standing with her back towards the Prosecution’s bench all this while, and most importantly, there was someone behind her.

“Attorney Kang,” She knows that voice, has heard it in her head for years now, but Kang Sol finds herself unable to lift her gaze from the linoleum floor as she grasps the warm hand that was now being offered to her, “nice to meet you, finally.”

There’s a teasing lilt to the last word, a certain edge to the syllable that she knows all too well, having been subjected to it for hours on end, in classes, in the copy room, in the café, even in her mind. It’s from a voice she knows all too well, someone she had wronged.

Courage, Kang Sol.

“Hello, Prosecutor Han,” she looks up, extending one hand to the man in front of her, and—

She didn’t have any expectations of how she would meet Han Joon-Hwi after so many years, but in the deeper recesses of her mind, she had a thought; of his eyes widening at seeing her face for the first time in so many years, her falling in love with him all over again. She had thought of looking—no, not just looking, looking at him, for the first time in so many years, after that one fateful day when she ignored the words of her heat and went running far away from him, perhaps falling in love all over again.

Instead—she feels nothing. Perhaps a pang of guilt somewhere in the recesses of her mind, but when she looks into the eyes of Han Joon-Hwi, her best friend, the person she had fallen in love with, Kang Sol doesn’t see anyone but a weathered prosecutor, the boy who had called out her name on graduation day in Hankuk Law school long gone. Even though he looks not a day older, even though his eyes still crinkle in the same way when he smiles, and his hand still holds the same weight when he takes her hand for a handshake, but she can’t find the boy she was in love with anymore.

“Attorney Kang,” he grins, and his voice is the same, teasing when he looks at her, smiles at her, but he is her opponent, she has to defeat him today. This isn’t preparing for mock trials and judicial competitions, where they only played at being lawyers and prosecutors, this is real life. Je Sang-Hee’s life depends upon her, Kang Sol, winning this case. Against him, Han Joon-Hwi.

“Noona, nice to see you again,” Bok-gi pushes forward, giving her a warm hug, which does its job to dissipate all errant thoughts of a boy whose smile had haunted her in her dreams, “I’ll be watching today, my law firm asked me to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” she assures him, “you can take all the notes you want.” He’s still looking at her, she realises when she lets go of Bok-gi, Han Joon-Hwi is still staring at me. Do I have something in my teeth? “Good luck today, Prosecutor Han.”

He grins at her then, dimpled smile making her heart skip a beat, and says, “I don’t need luck, Attorney Kang,” before sauntering off to his seat.

Kang Sol clenches her jaw. Asshole.

He wasn’t sure how it would be—their meeting for the first time, but Joon isn’t going to say he’s dissatisfied with it. sure, she’s grown up now—she isn’t Kang Sol A anymore, she goes by just Kang Sol, and he doesn’t have the pesky tag of second-round judicial passer hanging around his neck anymore.

She had stared him down, and to no surprise, he still found her beautiful. Sure, he had always thought that there was a sort of magnetic aura around Sol, something that commanded the attention of an entire room when she walked in. She looked the same as she had looked, five years ago, when he had tried to confess to her, and she had rejected him. Sol hadn’t told him that she was rejecting him, at least not explicitly; Han Joon-Hwi was a man who could take a hint, especially if it ran away from him while he was in the middle of his confession. Really, Kang Sol. You made me chase you all the way to this courtroom.

A hand slams down on his desk, and Seo Jiho’s irritated voice tells him, “If you’re going to stare, at least do it properly.”

He sputters, suddenly thankful that his co-prosecutor was running late, as he stood up to stare at his ex-roommate, who was porting a very uncharacteristic grin, “what do you mean by that? I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure, you weren’t,” Jiho says, and even Bok-gi sniggers at him, “you were just looking in the general direction of Sol noona, so much so that everyone in the room thinks that the two of you are either dating, or that you want to kill her. Personally, I prefer the latter.”

He doesn’t say anything, just grumbles under his breath, and Jiho presses on, “did you prepare well for this case? You do realise that your evidence is weak, do you?”

“Ah, of course, hyung knows it,” Bok-gi steps in to intervene, and Joon-Hwi thinks for a moment that yes, Bok-gi was always one of the better ones, and then he opens his mouth again, “he’s just ignoring all the things he said before entering the courthouse, and proving to all of us how much of a hypocrite he is.”

Joon glares at Bok-gi, who is giggling at him now, and turns to look at the judge’s bench a pout on his face. Sure, he had proclaimed in the car that he would “not be looking at her, nope”, and the fact that it had taken him exactly three minutes to break that promise was bit laughable, but his friends didn’t have to rub it into his face.

“I don’t understand,” Bok-gi asks, “why are you still hung up on her? You basically took this case just so you could meet her again, and even though the two of you haven’t talked in years, you still talk about her, you still ask about her when you get the chance, so what is going on?”

Joon-Hwi doesn’t answer. He knows what is going on, why he has been so intent on meeting Kang Sol, even after so long, but he doesn’t want to—no, he can’t tell Bok-gi that. He feels a pang of guilt whenever he even thinks of telling Bok-gi the actual reason behind him running after Sol, even though she had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

He wonders, sometimes.

His co-prosecutor arrives in the courtroom, almost gliding over the floor to take their seat, and he can see Kang Sol shrink back a little, obviously intimidated. He doesn’t hide his smile anymore, not that he needs to either. She didn’t have to get flustered over his co-prosecutor entering the damn courtroom. She’s never done that, at least from what Bok-gi and Yebeom have told him; even Jiho had pitched in with his own comments sometimes, knowing exactly how much it pissed him off, but he still did it. Every time he met Bok-gi or he met Yeseul, he would ask about her, waiting for them to respond with “oh, she’s doing okay, oppa” and “I met her a few weeks ago, she was fine, hyung” and they move on after that, but he can’t.

They don’t possibly expect him to move on from her, do they?

“All rise,” the bailiff announces, and he dutifully stands up, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sol gently helps the defendant to rise up alongside her, before being seated again. She still did that little thing when she looked around the entire courtroom for people watching her, he thinks to herself. She’s still the same Sol. No, she’s different now. We both are. We both are different, but there’s still things about her that remind me of the times we spent in Hankuk.

“Prosecutor Han,” the judge tells him, and he stands up quickly to his feet, “begin.”

“Thank you, Your Honour,” He says, walking out to the defendant’s bench, “defendant Je Sang-Hee, you were indicted on charges of attempted murder, following an attack on your fiancé, Seo Changmin, on the fourteenth of November, two weeks prior to your indictment.”

“Yes, I was,” she begins, “but I didn’t do anything to—”

“I’ll be the one asking questions here,” he cuts her off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sol draw an almost-imperceptible breath, shaking her head at him. She isn’t flustered. He’s very sure she isn’t flustered, because the two of them have been on opposite sides of each other, time and time again, “could you confirm that Seo Changmin suffered injuries because of you?”

She stares at him, defiant, and replies, “he did not suffer injuries because of me, I found him and I called the police, I’ve told you this.”

“Yes, you have,” Joon walks to the front of the witness’ bench, “but your whereabouts were also unknown that night, until that fateful moment when you actually found your fiancé, and proceeded to assault him. Is that right?”

She looks at him, scowling. He’s hit a nerve, apparently. They had been harping on that aspect for far too long than what was necessary, Joon had noticed when he had been preparing. He couldn’t go that way when he questioned her, because he knows Sol has prepared for it.

So, he changes his track of questioning, “Ms Sang-Hee, would I be wrong in assuming that Mr Changmin had visited you five times over the three days prior to the accident?”

She stares at him, “he is my fiancé. Or he was, before the accident happened. It wasn’t unusual for him to visit me multiple times in a single day.”

He stops, “and yet, when the police asked you about the reason of his visits, you chose to remain silent, evading the question—”

“Objection,” Sol says calmly, standing up from her seat, “the prosecution cannot ask leading questions.”

“Sustained,” the judge replies smoothly, even before Joon-Hwi has a chance to respond, “Prosecutor Han, you cannot possibly expect me to accept this in the courthouse.”

He nods his head, slightly irritated, now that she has taken his advantage away, “moving on, Ms. Sang-Hee, when you found Seo Changmin unconscious, why did you not call for an ambulance? You waited ten minutes to call an ambulance, which most people would argue, looks strange, does it not?”

She doesn’t back down an inch. Good. He hadn’t thought she would either. They didn’t have enough evidence to show that she was guilty, her indictment based primarily on circumstantial evidence that even the most punishment-happy of all judges would find difficulty agreeing with. But they had had her indicted, and now they were here, trying to get her a sentence that would be as heavy as possible. Sol had been right. He didn’t have to worry about the defendant, not as a prosecutor. He just had to punish people to the full extent of the law.

“I tried to wake him up multiple times, but he didn’t respond,” Sang-Hee responds, staring at the judge, “I didn’t think it was out of the ordinary, since he had always had a drinking problem, but when he didn’t respond to me calling his name in the morning, that was when I grew worried.”

She looks at him once, then back to her lawyer, Sol, who looked as though she wanted to strangle him. good. This means I’m winning, and turns back to him, “it was like him to come back drunk, so drunk that he could barely remember where he was, and his friends would drop him off at my house, with apologies, but he would repeat his behaviour. I wasn’t too worried when he didn’t respond to my calls at night, but by morning, he would usually be awake and demanding breakfast. That was when I started to get anxious.”

“Anxious? Not worried?” he asks, curiosity spiked by her peculiar choice of words, “were you anxious that he was actually dead? Or were you anxious that your—”

“he’s my fiancé, of course I would be anxious if he was not responding to my calls,” Sang-Hee stares at him, “you must not have dated a lot if you think I wouldn’t have been worried about my fiancé.”

A wave of laughter runs through the court, and he can feel the tips of his ears turn red. Even the judge cracks a smile, and he can see both Bok-gi and Jiho sniggering. They’re never going to let me live this one down, “so, you called the police then, who found your fiancé almost dead from a drug overdose.”

“Yes,” she looks at her hands, fingers intertwined, “they told me he had taken it about four hours before I called them.”

Ah, there it is. He knew it would come to this, he had known there was no way to win this case after all, even if he really did want to win. There were things he couldn’t do after all, despite being what they called a ‘star prosecutor’. “No more questions.”

The smile on Sol’s face is enough to tell him that he’s lost this case. Oddly enough, he doesn’t feel disappointed, even as his partner shoots dirty looks at him, a clear violation of courtroom conduct, but he can’t bring himself to care, fixated on the way she looks while cross-examinating the defendant, the way she turns to the judge and says “no more questions, your Honour.” It’s a far cry from the Sol he remembers at law school, the one who would have him act as prosecutor whenever she went up in a mock trial, even if he had been assigned the role of prosecutor, going up against her. She always asked him to help her practise, and like the fool that he was, he always helped her. Even now, as he stands there, watching her, it’s almost as though he is back at Hankuk; almost, but not quite.

“Court adjourned for the day, and will convene for the next trial on—” Joon can feel himself growing more and more antsy, as the judge announces the date for the next trial, and that Sang-Hee can be released from Judicial custody, especially since her health had been failing due to the stress of the trial and asthma, from which she had suffered since she was young.

He hurries out of the courthouse, only to be cornered by Jiho and Bok-gi at the entrance, Bok-gi with a large grin on his face and Jiho with his trademark expressionless look, although he knows both of them were going to tease him about this, possibly till he died and perhaps even then, they would find a way to sneak it into his eulogy.

Strangely, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Hyung, where are you going?” Bok-gi asks, even as Joon desperately tries to catch a glimpse of Sol through the now-closing courtroom doors, “shouldn’t you be preparing for the next date?”

He looks at Bok-gi for a second, eyes widening, “what are you talking about?”

Bok-Gi’s smile gets wider, if that’s possible, “really? What were you thinking about, hyung? I was talking about the next court date.”

Joon-Hwi huffs, “I was thinking about the same thing, Min Bok-Gi; now, if you will—”

Jiho opens his mouth to say something, but Joon barrels past the two of them, running down the stone steps and to the driveway, where his car was parked, and, presumably, Sol’s too. She’s walking faster now, and he has to run to keep up with her. Her ponytail bobs as she takes quick steps, in a hurry to get away from the courthouse complex. He doesn’t blame her at all.

“Sunbae!” he calls out, loud enough to catch the attention of quite a few people, “Sunbae!”

That catches her attention all right, and she stops in her tracks, turning to him, an irritated expression on her face. It doesn’t stay for long, however, fading just as quickly as it came, “so, you’re still sticking with that name, Han Joon-Hwi?”

He grins, “of course. It wouldn’t be me and you, if I didn’t call you Sunbae, Sunbae.”

She stares at him, with an expression he can’t quite place. “I thought we didn’t have that sort of a relationship anymore, Prosecutor Han.”

And, there it is. He can’t deny it and say that it doesn’t hurt to be treated by Sol this way, but he’s nothing if not tenacious, so he pushes on, “you did good today, in there.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nods her head, before replying with a curt, “good job today, Prosecutor Han.” Of course, she would say that; he doesn’t want to admit it, but it sort of feels like she had slapped him full across the face. Who am I kidding, if she had done that, it would have perhaps hurt less. He feels like a fool, standing in the middle of the road, calling out her name, and a years-old nickname that she didn’t like, and one that he felt only held significance for him.

What they had not had was closure; or at least for him, it was that, the absence of a final answer to his unasked question, something between them still hanging in the air. She could ignore it, live on with her life, but he cannot. There should have been closure, he’s told himself time and time again, or was I just too unimportant for her to even give a damn. It isn’t true, he knows, Sol wouldn’t do that to him, or to anyone else for that matter, but on some nights, it becomes impossible. He doesn’t blame her either; he blames his own self for the loss of his closest friend. If only he hadn’t been stubborn enough to ask her out on the day of graduation. He should have waited a little bit more.

But then, should he have waited?

“Sol!” he calls out again, jogging lightly to keep up with her steps, “Sol! Wait up for a minute—”

He’s interrupted, Sol turning abruptly to meet him halfway, which results in him having to backtrack, “what do you want now?”

He smiles brightly, “how about Pyongyang naengmyeon? I know a place nearby that’s good.”

She stares at him, like she can’t really figure out his deal. He holds up his hands, “look, all I’m asking for is a meal. No strings attached.”

Surprisingly, she nods once, turning on her heel, “lead the way, Prosecutor Han.”

I should not be doing this.

Her phone buzzes, and it’s Yeseul. You should not be doing this, the text reads, and Sol has to gather all her willpower to not scream in the middle of the street, I know, I fucking know, I shouldn’t be doing this with him right now, going for lunch when there’s—no, I just cannot do it.

She thinks it would be good, for her to have one lunch with him, to get him out of her system, Yeseul’s wisdom about not having lunch with someone who is technically her opponent in the court be damned. She just needs to have lunch with him once, and then she can stop feeling this way.

The restaurant is small, but bright light filters in through the large windows as they take a seat at one of the empty tables. There are a lot of them, she thinks, looking around, just after the lunchtime rush, or the restaurant wasn’t a very good one. Either way, she was supposed to be having a meal with Han Joon-Hwi right now, and as Sol takes a seat, she realises she had been vastly unprepared for this meeting.

He doesn’t look like the Joon she knew back in Hankuk, that is certain, but he doesn’t look like what her imagination had unhelpfully supplied her with either. He looks every inch the prosecutor, with dark circles underneath his eyes and that slouching posture she supposes every prosecutor has, as though he had been carrying the weight of the whole world. It’s sad, somehow.

“Are you going to order?”

“Hm?” She turns her gaze, and sure enough, he’s looking at her just like he had done all those years ago, when she had a stupid letter attached to her name like a real-life suffix that followed one around, and he used to lean over tables and grin all up in her face and mock her by saying Sunbae. It’s—uncomfortable. She didn’t think she would revert to her university self so easily, but with him, it feels like second nature, “You said Pyongyang naengmyeon, so we should get Pyongyang naengmyeon.”

“All right,” he teases, but it’s light, the kind of tone one would use with a co-worker, which strikes her as somehow offensive (am I not more important than a co-worker?) and she spots a glint of something else in his eyes, but shakes her head free of the thought, just as he says, “so, how is work?”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t think you asked me to lunch after all these years just to talk to me about work, Han Joon-Hwi.”

He smiles, “right, I didn’t, two orders of beef bone soup, please.”

She stares at him, “it’s summer,” and turns back to the ahjumma, “two orders of Pyongyang naengmyeon, please.”

He just shakes his head, looking at her in that funny way, and asks, “so, do you remember, or do you not?”

What is he even asking me about? “No, I don’t,” she replies, pouring out water for the both of them, “what are you even talking about?”

He shakes his head at her again, “never mind. Let’s eat.”

She can’t help but feel as though she had just missed something important, at least by the look on his face. Or maybe that’s the naengmyeon talking.

#solhwi #solhwi fanfic #jtbc law school #han joon hwi #kang sol a

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

chapter four.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 3.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, noona kink, general chaotic energy, poly relationships, slight implications of switch!reader and sub!jk, jin being a beautiful mess, make-out sesh with multiple people oops

⇥ beta reader: the lovely @shadowsremedy

Chapter Four

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House – 10:49pm

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

Namjoon’s question fills the room. The boys all stare at me with anticipation, leaning forward with furrowed brows.

I ponder my course of action for all of two seconds before launching into my well-practiced rant, “I want to know what sort of sick prank you think you’re playing, because I am not falling for it. I mean – all of you wanting to date one person? Date me? Seems fake, but okay.”

Some of the boys move to interrupt me, but I thrust up a palm, “No, please let me finish. I know I don’t really have the right to make judgements about you guys, but I have seen some misogynistic behavior from your frat. So, I feel like it’s not that far-fetched for me to think that you’re probably playing me.”

“Messy gymnast behavior? What’s that?” Jungkook whispers to Hoseok who just shrugs, looking equally as baffled.

“Misogynistic, Kook, not messy gymnast,” Namjoon pinches his nose in frustration, “It means prejudiced against women.”

Seokjin and Jimin descend into fits of laughter. Hoseok still looks mildly perplexed, and Yoongi takes a large sip of soju from a bottle he procured from god knows where within the last few minutes.

Covering his face, Jungkook dives behind Jin in hopes of further hiding his embarrassment.

“I think I know what she’s talking about.”

The room quiets at Taehyung’s interjection. He reluctantly sits up from his relaxed position on his bed and explains, “When we met at our party last semester, she found out about our old pledge tradition.”

“Oh, damn,” Jimin sighs, “So that’s why you motioned to remove it from the chapter’s history at the last meeting.”

“Yeah,” Tae looks me in the eyes, “We voted removed it, (y/n) ... A little too late though, it seems.”

Jungkook peeks his head out from behind Jin’s shoulder, “We’re sorry, noona.”

Trying not to internally melt in response at the youngest’s display of classic puppy-dog eyes, I slump against the wall and slide into a sitting position on the floor. “Look, I’m not going to say that ‘it’s okay’ because it’s not. But I do appreciate that you removed it.”

The boys hang their heads, looking properly chastised.

“That’s fair,” Namjoon finally says quietly, “We know as a frat we fucked up. We’re not perfect. We make a lot of mistakes. But we’re trying to get back to being respectable and move on from here.”

“We’re trying to get back your respect,” Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, looking at me with wide eyes and more attentiveness than I’ve ever seen from him.

“But that’s the other thing,” I look away, pulling at a random thread fraying off of the sleeve of my sweatshirt, “Why does it matter so much that I respect you? Why are you all so invested in me all of a sudden? In all honesty, I haven’t said more than two words in conversation to half of you.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really matter,” Namjoon shrugs, shifting to lean casually against the wall.

My eyes narrow, “How can it not matter?”

“Because we date as a group, (y/n)-noona,” Jimin smiles down at me from his perch on Taehyung’s bed, all squishy cheeks and crinkled eyes, “Tae thought we’d all like you, and then Jungkookie and Joon-hyung agreed and—”

Hoseok excitedly chimes in, arms swinging wildly, “And finding someone who we all like hasn’t happened in so long, and I’m so happy!”

“Yah, Hobi!” Jin reaches over Jungkook to shove the bouncing boy, “We’re supposed to be playing it cool. We have to woo her.” He winks and blows me a kiss.

Instinctively, I swat it away and then giggle at Seokjin’s indignant gasp.

“I take it back! She’s mean!” Launching into a passionate rant complete with head shaking and wild eyes, Jin continues, “Consider that kiss null and void. I have never been so insulted in my entire life, you know!”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I collapse from laughing alongside the rest of the boys. Namjoon’s dimples are out in full force as he drawls, “Hyung, that’s what you said yesterday when I beat you in Overwatch.”

Seokjin splutters over the now-renewed laughter of his younger brothers, “I thought I told you to never speak of that again!”

Trailing off in mumbles of how he needs new friends and how disrespected he is as an elder, Jin resorts to pouting in the corner.

“You’ll have to excuse Seokjin-hyung, (y/n),” Taehyung smirks at me with raised eyebrows, “He’s skated by solely on his looks up until now.”

Seokjin’s pouting intensifies.

“He is handsome,” I instinctively respond, fully focused on the beauty of Jin’s pouty lips. And when those lips break into a huge grin, I cringe at my lapse in judgement for the thousandth time that night.

“My faith in humanity has been restored!” Jin ambles back to his original spot next to Jungkook and thrusts a paper heart that he apparently had been carrying on his person for quite some time in my direction.

“Hyung,” Hoseok eyes Seokjin with a concerned frown, “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s one secret I’ll never tell.” Jin barely finishes that sentence before a flurry of pillows, water bottles, and other miscellaneous items are thrown at him from all angles.

“I thought we agreed no more quoting Gossip Girl, Jin-hyung!” Jimin cries as he continues to hit Jin with a pillow from Tae’s bed.

Miraculously still even able to speak under the assault from the other boys, Jin replies with complete sincerity, “XOXO.”

Chaos reigns.

Watching all seven of them in - presumably - their most natural state, I sigh in amusement, “Y’all are too much.”

Somehow the boys hear me, because they all turn to face me once more with various expressions of playfulness and mirth. Jin still lies under the pile of them laughing slightly as they slowly shift off of him.

“Nah, I think we might be just enough for you, noona,” Jungkook pipes up as he plops down on the edge of Taehyung’s bed.

“Yeah? And how do you know that?” A sudden thought occurs to me, “Wait, why do you all even date one person anyway? Don’t you realize like half the campus is in love with each of you?”

“You’re included in that half, right?” Taehyung grins and then shrinks under my withering glare, “I mean, it’s a long story?”

“Oh, hold on,” I check my wrist, which noticeably has no watch, “Mhm, that’s right. It’s story time.”

Jimin snorts and then burrows under the covers in mortification.

“Cute,” Hoseok sighs, staring at me, “I want to keep you.”

And there’s something about having Jung Hoseok’s full attention and adoration that brings me to peak devastation. I pull my hood up over my head and burrow into my sweatshirt.

“Aw!” Various yells rebound around the room. I flip them all off.

“Hobi,” Yoongi teases, “I think she likes you.”

I peek out of the safety of my sweatshirt to eviscerate him with my eyes, but Yoongi just raises one brow coolly and calls me out, “Well, am I wrong, jagi?”

All eyes are on me, and the room is suddenly so quiet that all I can hear is the muffled party downstairs and the beating of my heart.

“... I want my lawyer,” I finally declare, re-emerging from the depths of my sweatshirt and crossing my arms.

“Oh, come on, noona!” Jimin shuffles across the room and kneels in front of me, causing me to descend into a panic, “You like Hoseok-hyung, right? Well, what about me? Do you like me?”

Jimin peers down at me, pink hair tussled and eyes shining. How could I ever say no to that beautiful face? That angelic human?

Must.

Deflect.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. Why do you all date the same person when each of you could have anyone you want?”

Jimin deflates and sits back on his heels, frowning at my non-answer.

“But we do already date everyone we want,” Hoseok cuts in, giggling, “Well, almost.”

They’re already dating people? My mind wracks through all my knowledge of the seven boys sitting before me, but no evidence of them dating anyone pops up. “Wait, I’m confused. Who are you all dating then?”

I can’t help but feel like I’m on the outside of an inside joke as the boys all exchange looks that are all too smug for my liking.

“Seems like we did a good job, boys,” Namjoon chuckles, “People on this campus are pretty oblivious.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, “They just choose not to see it. They want us all to be fully available.”

The lightbulb finally flickers on in my mind.

“Oh my sweet baby Jesus,” I whisper, “You’re all dating each other, aren’t you?”

Various nods answer that question. Jin, of course, being Jin, wipes an imaginary tear from his eye as he dramatically laments, “And she’s smart, too? How did we get so lucky, boys?”

“Yoongi,” I say calmly, “Please pass me that soju before I commit murder in this very room.”

Without a word, Yoongi hands me the bottle before settling down in the space next to me against the wall.

Suddenly hyperaware of my positioning, I realize I’m sitting in between Jimin and Yoongi. Jungkook, Taehyung and Hobi now sit together on Tae’s bed, while Jin remains on the floor surrounded by various pillows and debris.

Namjoon is still leaning against the opposite wall, looking way too intimidating and perfect that I’m forced to look away.

That is, until he starts to speak. “(y/n), the seven of us have always been close. We grew up together; and, somehow, we just work as a unit. We work together. It may seem odd or untraditional. Maybe it is. But, it’s who we are. And it’s how we love.”

Namjoon continues, “We don't want to lose what we have together, this dynamic we've spent so long building. But, we’ve been feeling like something has been missing from our relationship lately. We’ve been looking for someone to help complete us.”

“And you think that person is me?” I suck in a jagged breath, “You really want to share me? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

"There are crazier things," Yoongi shrugs, taking back the bottle of soju from my grasp, "Like how Namjoon has an IQ of 148 but can't seem to live one day without breaking something."

Namjoon, looking affronted, opens and closes his mouth, but ultimately settles on just smiling bashfully. My heart almost explodes at such a display of cuteness.

"It's really not that crazy, (y/n)," Taehyung interrupts my internal fawning, "You seem like a girl who’s intimidated by no one and nothing. We really, really like that. And we figured since you kissed me and Jungkook that you might be interested.”

Embarrassment washes over me. I steal back the soju from Yoongi, who just smirks knowingly.

“Besides, polyamory is actually more common than you think,” Hobi smiles in that pretty heart-shaped way of his.

He has a valid point. Who am I to be the judge of what love looks like? Who am I to criticize these boys who clearly love each other and just want one more person to love? Who am I to deny myself the opportunity to be loved by seven people?

“Can I think about it?" I ask, still fighting the inevitable for whatever reason, "I'm not saying 'no’. I just need a bit of time to think it over."

"Take all the time you need, baby," Namjoon murmurs, looking like I just handed him the keys to the entire world.

"No,” Jimin groans, burrowing his head in the crook of my shoulder, “Please, please, please don't take all the time you need, (y/n)-noona! I can’t wait that long!”

I reach up to stroke my fingers through his pink hair in an attempt to soothe the poor angel.

“Do we have permission to continue to woo you during this ‘thinking’ period?” Jin inquires, casting a look of jealousy at Jimin who is now nestled even further into me.

“Continue?” I ask, “When did you start?”

“Yah!” Seokjin exclaims, “Why does she keep roasting me?”

“I think it’s hot,” Jungkook grins at me with stars in his eyes.

“That’s because you’re a masochist, Kook,” Taehyung cackles from his perch on the bed.

“Ah, hyung!” Jungkook jumps on Taehyung in an effort to silence him, “She doesn’t need to know that yet!”

“I mean, it is pretty obvious,” I pause dramatically, dropping the pitch of my voice, “Baby boy.”

Jungkook yelps and takes off out of the room.

“Shit, was that too much?” I ask, staring at the door thrown open in Jungkook’s wake.

“No,” Tae replies, still laughing, “I think he just needs a second to calm down. I’ll go see where he went.”

Taehyung gets up from the bed and shuffles out the door in search of Jungkook. The open door allows for more sounds from the party to seep into the room.

Namjoon sighs, “I should probably check on what’s happening down there, shouldn’t I?”

“Good luck, man,” Yoongi tears the soju back out of my hand and lifts it up in cheers to Namjoon. Chuckling, Namjoon ambles over to where Yoongi, Jimin and I are crowded together and grabs the soju.

After taking a long sip, he crouches down in front of me and grasps the hand that remains unoccupied by Jimin. Bringing it to his lips, Namjoon places the lightest kiss on my knuckles. “I’m so happy you showed up tonight, baby. I can only hope that my future holds more of you in any way you choose to give me.”

Pressing his lips to my palm this time, Namjoon smiles in that completely devastating way of his and then saunters out of the room. Still gaping, I realize I never even got to say a word to him in response.

“You are so whipped for him already, jagi,” Yoongi says lowly, lips brushing my ear.

I blink. My senses are on overload. Jimin is still curled into my side, with my hand stroking his hair and his lips accidentally grazing the skin of my collarbone every so often. Now, Yoongi is closer than ever. I can feel his breath against my neck and his stare focused on my lips. Meanwhile, Hobi and Jin are slowly but surely shuffling closer to where the three of us are bunched together.

“So what if I am?” I finally answer, “Aren’t you all whipped for him, too?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jimin mumbles into my shoulder.

My mind explodes.

“She’s not ready for that yet, Jiminie,” Jin giggles, “I’m pretty sure she’s still half convinced I worship Satan in the basement.”

“Well, I wasn’t before, but now I am,” I jokingly eye Seokjin up and down with an amused smile.

He grins back at me. I melt. And he knows it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jin asks, the slightest smirk curving his lips, a look of hunger burning in his gaze, like he could just eat me up, “Please?”

I swallow and his eyes latch onto the movement of my throat.

Before I can reconsider, I remove myself from my sitting position against the wall, much to Jimin and Yoongi’s dismay, and straddle Jin’s lap, immediately capturing his lips with my own.

The effect is instantaneous. Various groans echo around me as Jin smiles against my mouth. His hands find their way under my sweatshirt and squeeze my hips, dragging my body even closer against his.

The way Jin kisses is life-ruining in its unhurried, yet passionate deliberateness. He kisses me like he’s claiming me, and the possessiveness of his actions send a ripple of excitement through my body. Releasing my mouth, he works his way down the length of my exposed neck, and I gasp in response.

Suddenly, I feel another pair of hands twine around my body from behind as Hobi pleads into my ear, “Can I kiss you, too, (y/n)?”

I nod wordlessly, wondering what I did in my past life to deserve such affection in this one.

“No fair,” I vaguely hear Jimin pouting, “I want to kiss noona.”

“We’ll have our turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi’s voice causes a shudder of anticipation to race down my spine.

“Oh, she likes that idea,” Jin laughs, obviously having felt the tremor that shot though me in response to Yoongi’s suggestion, “Come get a taste.”

“Only if that’s what she really wants,” Yoongi says, meeting my eyes, “Don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, kitten.”

“Kitten?” I growl, eyes narrowed sharply in his direction.

“Yep,” Yoongi’s answering smirk is slow and antagonizing, “All cute and cuddly with a hint of claws.”

“I’ll show you claws,” I say darkly, getting up, “Stand up.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Why?”

“I won’t ask again,” I move closer to him and Jimin.

Yoongi pulls himself to his feet, acting like it was the most physical activity he’d ever done.

When he’s finally done with the dramatics, I move closer until he’s backed right up against the wall, “Min Yoongi, I’m going to shut you up now.”

His breath stutters as I slowly move my mouth closer to his. “Please do—” I cut him off.

Kissing Yoongi is just as intoxicating as kissing Jin, but in a different way. Yoongi tastes like soju and spearmint. His body melts under my touch, completely fine with letting me lead. An idea springs to mind and I slide my hand into his hair and tug lightly. He jolts with a moan.

Bingo. I smirk before kissing him deeper. My other hand winds around him to scratch my nails down his back. This time, I’m awarded with a small whine.

The fact that I’m wrecking this boy is simultaneously wrecking me. That impact doubles when I feel a small hand begin to wind its way up my calf towards my thigh. Tearing my mouth away from Yoongi, I open my eyes to see Jimin smiling up at me, “Can you kiss me like that, too, (y/n)-noona?”

“Why couldn’t you wait your turn, Jiminie,” Yoongi sulks adorably, sensing that my resolve against any request from Jimin was nonexistent.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to be showing me the perks of dating multiple people?” I joke, “Jin and Hobi just shared. Can’t you two?”

Jimin springs up off the floor faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, “Yes! We can share!”

��Good,” I reply, turning in Yoongi’s arms so that my back is pressed against him. He hisses in a breath. “Come here, Jiminie,” I open my arms to the eager boy who all but leaps into them.

“You’re so beautiful, noona,” Jimin sighs, pupils dilated, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“So are you, baby,” I sigh, bringing a hand up to brush his cheek fondly, “So are you.”

I kiss Jimin gently, treasuring the feel of his plump lips against my own. I trace the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip and his mouth opens in a silent gasp. I use the chance to slip my tongue inside to twine with his.

Through my thoroughly fucked-out haze, I feel Yoongi’s hands settle onto my hips, grinding me slowly against his crotch. I moan into Jimin as Yoongi’s mouth sucks on the side of my neck, surely for the sole reason of marking me.

“Well, shit, JK,” Taehyung’s voice shatters the bubble of pleasure I had been residing within in the middle of four beautiful men. My eyes flutter open to take in the sight of Taehyung holding a box of pizza and a case of beer, with Jungkook right behind him. “Looks like the party started without us.”

a/n: oops, another slight cliff-hanger? *laughs evilly*

taglist: @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @cage7241 @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @elraeee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @aokay1010 @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @heterophobez @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @queen-of--roses @blu-butterfly69 @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @btsenchanting @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19

blogs that wouldn’t let me tag them for some reason: @awkwardhumambean @seablueberry @sunxxxflowers @tardis1967

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

lip sync your way into my heart

( @thecomfortofoldstorries and I got into a fun head-cannon debate last night about Tik Tok POVs and this is what happened)

--- Jaskier has never really been in the loop when it comes to social media. He was behind the curve when he made his Tumblr and he was two years late to sign up for Twitter. It’s no surprise that he finally downloads Tik Tok and makes an account several months after it’s become a viral platform.

That also means all the good usernames are taken; Jaskier types in @buttercup-bard, sees that it’s available, and calls it a day. This isn’t an app he’s going to care about. It’s just to waste time during his forty minute commute to and from campus.

Alas, he has ADHD...and this shit is addictive.

Especially, he hates to admit, the thirst-trap hotties who do weird, obscure, edgy POV videos. Jaskier knows they’re aimed primarily towards teen and young adult women but he’s a red-blooded Redanian gay. He’s horny. He can watch a few POV Tik Toks on the bus and thirst after pretty boys with big muscles...as a treat.

By Jaskier’s second week of classes he’s found a definite favorite Tik-Tokker (is that what they’re called? Or is it influencer? Jaskier doesn’t care). The guy is gorgeous. He has beautiful honey-gold eyes and long, silvery-white hair; which is appropriate since his handle is @whitehairdontcare. He makes a wide range of content, too. Perfect for Jaskier’s Concerta-focused tastes. There are some dances here and there and some Q&A videos, but for the most part he does POVs.

Jask and his roommates, Essi and Priscilla, have spent many happy hours poring over Mr. White Hair’s account, watching and re-watching their favorites from his vast repertoire of content. Essi loves his weird, edgy-boi shit. Stuff with titles like “POV: I fight the bully who insulted your haircut” or “POV: you make a deal with the devil for true love”. Stuff that Jaskier would have been into when he still listened to My Chemical Romance on the regular (okay, he still does, but don’t tell Essie).

Priscilla is a huge fan of Tik Tok dances. She follows every challenge and ranks her favorites, compiling them into a YouTube series that’s more for her self-gratification than anything else. Mr. White Hair is generally towards the top of her list whenever he deigns to follow a trend that doesn’t involve badly applied makeup blood smears. The guy clearly works out and the definition of his body (and the movements of said really hot body) make the dances look so much more fluid and fun. Jaskier and Priscilla clearly share a brain-cell when it comes to appreciating Mr. White Hair’s hotness.

Jaskier’s favorites, of course, are the cute little POVs that lie scattered between all the edgy ones. Stuff made for the softies of Tik Tok. Stuff made for boys like Jaskier. “POV: I fix your car for you” is the one he’s probably re-watched the most. Mr. White Hair is lying on his back beneath a jacked-up blue car, oil smeared in a few strategic places on his face, chest, and arms. At the very end of the Tik Tok he moves the wrench out of the way of his face completely and winks directly into the camera.

Jaskier hates to admit it, even to himself, but no matter how many times he’s watched that stupid twenty-give second video, that wink drops his heart straight down into his shoes and fills his stomach with butterflies.

---

“Hey do you guys carry fake blood here?” an almost terrifyingly deep voice asks from behind him. Jaskier twirls around on his heel, Retail Smile firmly in place, and loses his shit the moment he sets eyes on his latest customer.

It’s Mr. White Hair.

Here. In the middle of the aisle of the Party City where Jaskier works every weekend. He’s either going to throw up or pass out or both.

He doesn’t though. Instead, the Demon Lord of Retail possesses his body momentarily and nods, “Right over this way!” He leads the insanely attractive influencer over to the year-round section of Halloween FX makeup and gestures towards the shelf filled with various fake blood capsules, bottles, and packets.

“Thanks,” Mr. White hair smiles. Jaskier nods again, silent, and drifts back towards the counter in a daze. He’s the only one on shift right now (it is not a very busy Party City) and he knows that he can’t pass out on the dirty tile floor or he’ll get fired (and perhaps tetanus). He just needs to power through the next few minutes and then he can crouch next to the helium tank and freak the fuck out.

But not until Mr. White Hair is gone.

Just as Jaskier is re-learning how to breathe normally, the sexy internet star makes his way towards the counter with an armful of products and the retail worker loses it again. Thank god for the ability to compartmentalize.

“So, just these for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem! I love your Tik Toks by the way,” Jaskier replies automatically. His eyes widen slightly. Why the fuck did I mention his Tik Toks!?

“Thanks,” the guy says and blushes. “I didn’t know they’d gotten so popular.”

“You have like two million followers?” Jaskier laughs. “I think that makes you pretty popular. Maybe even famous.”

“Oh yeah...right.”

“Anyway, your total is going to be twenty-one fifty.”

Mr. White Hair pays and Jaskier bags all his fake blood, wondering the whole time exactly what kind of content he can look forward to seeing. More of Essi’s edgy shit, apparently. As he’s handing the plastic bag over the counter, Jaskier smiles and works up the courage to ask, “Is your hair naturally white? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just really pretty.”

Geralt’s face goes slightly pinker than before and he nods. “Yeah. Weird genetic thing. Thanks.”

“No problem. Right on,” Jaskier beams. “Well, it was nice meeting a famous person. Thanks for stopping in.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” the Tik Tokker replies. Jaskier watches him exit the store before ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing Essi. He needs to talk to her before he spirals into a giddy panic attack.

---

“Hey Jask have you seen that hot guy’s latest Tik Tok?” Priscilla asks, lounging across her futon like a queen. Jaskier looks up from his copy of The Collective History of Aedirnian Funeral Dirges and wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?”

“You should go check your phone. I think you’ll be happily surprised.”

“Oh-kay,” Jaskier says, drawing out the ‘kay’ for as long as it takes him to get up from his seat on the floor and exit the room. He retrieves his phone from the charger in the kitchen and returns to Priscilla’s bedside. He opens his new favorite app and pulls up @whitehairdontcare’s page. There’s a new POV from earlier this morning and Jaskier taps on it.

His eyes go round when he reads the caption: “POV: You’re the cute cashier at the Party City and I’m bad at flirting”.

Mr. White Hair is staring into the camera with those beautifully golden eyes, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand while he lip syncs to whatever song is playing. He’s wearing a tight, navy blue v-neck and Jaskier can see the movement of every one of his ridiculously defined muscles as they flex. The silver wolf’s-head necklace Mr. White Hair always wears around his neck is in its usual place, dangling down between those perfect collarbones…

Jaskier takes a shaky breath and glances up at his friends, who are staring back at him with wide eyes. “It could be about anyone.”

“How many Party Cities do you think he went to yesterday?”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” Jaskier snorts. “He’s a social media influencer and I am one semester away from finishing my degree and my thesis. Why would he ever want to be with someone like me?”

Essi rolls her eyes and Jaskier goes back to his homework.

---

Later that night, alone in his room, Jaskier plugs his earbuds into his phone and watches the Tik Tok over and over. He finds the song Geralt used and adds it to his Work Is Tough playlist, which he’s allowed to play over the loudspeakers at the store so long as he’s working a solo shift.

He watches Mr. White Hair’s plush pink lips move around the words and dreams of kissing them someday, as far-fetched as that scenario is (because this video is definitely not for him, that’s impossible):

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.

So won't you kill me, so I die happy.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,

or wear as jewelry; whichever you prefer.”

Fucking Dashboard Confessional. Of course. One of Jaskier’s favorite bands from his emo days in middle school. If this really was for Jaskier, if this really was a legitimate attempt at online flirtation by Mr. White Hair himself, it was working.

Jaskier buries his head in his pillow and sighs.

#geraskier fic #geraskier tik tok au #there will be a part 2 i promise #geraskier fanfic #geraskier #geraskier au #all I do is make aus all day and work retail #geraskier fluff #flirty geralt #influencer geralt #party city employee jaskier #college student jaskier #geraskier college au #geraskier alternate universe #oops I keep making cute shit

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tiramisiyu · 4 years ago

Note

Sorry, the link I put in probably doesn’t work m. weibo. cn/detail/4608947896717694 you’ll have to get rid of the spaces in between because it won’t let me send a link

Oml this fic was great (link here for the original), thank you for sending it in! In this house we appreciate MC for handling the four guys when they're sniping at each other like elementary schoolers.

See below cut for translation!

Part 1

Given how they’ll spend two minutes having little arguments and three minutes having big arguments when holding meetings in the investigation team, you decided to do a little something to maintain the friendship between the team members, which wasn’t very deep to begin with.

“Cheng Cheng, if friends are fighting, where should they go to make their feelings go back to normal?” After all, Cheng Cheng had the most ideas. After work, rather than rushing home, you sat at Cheng Cheng’s seat, asking for her suggestions.

(Cheng Cheng is Kiki Bennet, for those who follow global server information.)

“It’s gotta be the amusement park for sure!” Cheng Cheng’s eyes shone. “There is nothing and no place more suited for nurturing relations than the amusement park!”

As if thinking, you lowered your head. You didn’t notice how the door of the office behind you opened, then closed.

Part 2

“Lawyer Zuo, do you have time this weekend?” After making up your mind, you knocked on Zuo Ran’s office door.

“I do. What’s the matter?” He stopped arranging his items, looking gently at you.

“I want to go to the amusement park, and was wondering if you’d be interested?”

Zuo Ran froze, then remembered the dialogue he’d just heard, then immediately thought that he didn’t seem to have had any conflicts with you recently, and being mean to you due to work was also unlikely… so where did he anger you?

“Lawyer Zuo?” Seeing him silent, you felt a little anxious. Sure enough, having Lawyer Zuo go to a place like an amusement park was too difficult.

“Ah, sure.” Regardless, might as well answer and then figure it out after – so Zuo Ran thought.

Part 3

“This weekend?” On the other end of the phone, Mo Yi was somewhat surprised that you would take the initiative to invite him, though his mouth curved up right after. “Of course I have time. I have time as long as it is your invitation.”

“Awesome, then I’ll see you at the amusement park entrance on the weekend!” Having achieved your target, you hung up in satisfaction.

Mo Yi has always been kind and rarely rejected your requests. Plus, to him, the amusement park was worthy of being called a location to nurture relations, and it might even let your relationship take a step forward.

Looking at the blooming roses on the windowsill with deep emotion, Mo Yi reached out and stroked the delicate petals – “You are always able to surprise me.”

Part 4

“What’s up, thinking of me?” As soon as the call was picked up, Lu Jinghe’s mischievous voice was transmitted into your ears.

“Yeah, I was wondering if you had time on the weekend, Young CEO Lu?” You rolled your eyes, then followed his words to bring up your request. “I want to go to the amusement park on the weekend. Young CEO Lu, want to come?”

“Don’t call me like a stranger, I like hearing jiejie call my name more.” He laughed quietly.

“Lu, Jing, He! Are you going or not?” Enunciating each syllable, you recited his name.

“Don’t be so ferocious.” Sounding pitiful, Lu Jinghe said, “I’m going, of course I’m going! It’s so rare for jiejie to ask me out yourself, so how could I miss out on this chance!”

Not wanting to bother with bickering with him, you huffed quietly. “See you on Sunday 10AM, Stellis Amusement Park entrance.”

Part 5

You felt a lot more confident when inviting Xia Yan – after all, you grew up together and had planned to go to the amusement park together after reminiscing on your childhoods. If he wasn’t working, he definitely wouldn’t refuse you.

“Go to the amusement park?” Xia Yan tilted his head, looking at the photo taken at the amusement park with you, 8 years ago. “Of course it’s fine, I haven’t been to the amusement park in so long anyways, and I’ve been pretty tired out from work recently… it would be nice to go and relax.”

I hope we can relax, you thought.

“So it’s a promise then, I’ll be waiting for you at the Stellis Amusement Park entrance on the weekend.” As you expected – when the amusement park was mentioned, Xia Yan would think of when you were little. Inviting him to the amusement park was a cinch.

You hung up, picked your clothes for the weekend and placed it on the clothes rack, cleaned yourself up, then fell into the world of dreams.

Part 6

“So, why are you here?” Lu Jinghe looked with a face full of hostility at Zuo Ran, who was sitting by the flowerbed, holding two cups of hot drinks.

“When Young CEO Lu comes with someone else to the amusement park, am I not allowed to come here with my partner on the weekend to relax?” Zuo Ran stared hard at him, then lowered his head to continue fiddling with his phone.

Seeing his smug look, Lu Jinghe laughed coldly. “Coincidentally, the one who asked me here today just happens to be your partner during work hours.”

“…” Zuo Ran’s hand on the phone stopped.

“I should have expected this. If she suddenly asked me out to the amusement park, it definitely couldn’t be a simple relaxation session.” Xia Yan walked over from the other side of the round flowerbed, looking coldly at the two.

“Looks like it’s not just us.” Lu Jinghe raised his eyebrows. “Looks like she set the time to 10 o’clock to wait for a certain someone to wake up.”

Dissatisfied with Lu Jinghe’s malicious speculation, Zuo Ran placed his phone into his pocket. “Based on what I know, the amusement park opens at 10.”

Lu Jinghe: “…”

“Morning.” Mo Yi, who was standing by, nodded at everyone in greeting. Zuo Ran turned around and raised the hot beverage: “Morning.”

Xia Yan turned his head, ignoring him: “Hmph.”

Lu Jinghe said disdainfully, “Yeah, you could consider it early if you’ve only woken for an hour.”

TL Note: “Morning” and “early” here use the same word in Chinese.

As the atmosphere became stiffer and Mo Yi was seriously considering the possibility of lowering Lu Jinghe’s behavioral grading on his family education, you finally arrived at the amusement park entrance two minutes before 10.

“Sorry, sorry I came late. So everyone already got here.” Having overslept slightly, you jogged over, still panting.

“Slow down, drink some of this hot beverage.” Zuo Ran handed the hot beverage in front of you. “I didn’t know what you like to drink, so I ordered a cup of hot milk tea for you.”

“Thank you, Lawyer Zuo!” You smiled gratefully.

Mo Yi started to become different from usual again, speaking the most acidic words with the warmest expression: “One who acts so unaccountably solicitous...”

Xia Yan followed up immediately. “Must be hiding evil intentions! Watson, you’ve got to be careful of two-faced guys like that.”

Zuo Ran: “…”

You were about to speak when Lu Jinghe cut in, sounding slightly wronged, “Jiejie, I originally thought that this was going to be a sweet weekend with only us two. Why are the three of them also here?”

“What sweet weekend.” You shot him a look. “Today is our NXX investigation team’s team-building activity day, so of course the members of the team should be here.”

Zuo Ran, Mo Yi, Lu Jinghe, Xia Yan: “…”

Ignoring their strange expressions, you held up the tickets in your hands. “Let’s head into the amusement park!”

Part 7

You originally thought that after the slight displeasure of heading out, there would be happy memories. But who would’ve thought…

“No way, Zuo Ran, you’re too scared to get on the pendulum ride?” Lu Jinghe tried to hold in his laughter. “Hahaha, who would’ve thought that Zuo Ran, the great Lawyer Zuo, so ferocious in court, would be scared of the pendulum ride, hahahahaha…”

“Lu Jinghe!” You glared furiously at him.

“Sorry, sorry.” He blocked his mouth, but his trembling shoulders weren’t convincing at all. “I usually don’t laugh, unless if I really can’t hold it in.”

“Zuo Ran, that’s pretty sad.” Xia Yan spoke concisely, looking meaningfully at Zuo Ran.

“According to the country’s laws, defamation of others constitutes a crime and can result in a maximum of three years of imprisonment, detention, surveillance, or deprivation of political rights.” Unwilling to display weakness, Zuo Ran fired back.

“It’s very normal for people to fear things. No one can avoid this, Zuo Ran included.” Mo Yi pushed his glasses up.

“Dr. Mo gets it.” You released a breath – finally, there was a peacemaker.

Mo Yi followed up by speaking to you, “So, I hope you can strive to be with someone more ideal.”

You: “…”

“How about we check out the bumper cars? I remember that Lawyer Zuo’s driving skills are excellent!” Seeing that there were bumper cars not too far off, you made a suggestion.

“You all can head in. I will watch over your purse for you outside.” Mo Yi’s expression looked stiff for an instant, though it went back to normal quickly.

Xia Yan keenly noticed the abnormality in his complexion: “So it turns out that you’ve also got things you fear, Mo Yi.”

As if pointing something out, Lu Jinghe said, “After all, things like bumper cars really are hard to bear for older people.”

Looks like Lu Jinghe’s family education final assessment for this semester won’t be able to hit minimum standards.

Zuo Ran immediately emphasized his innocence. “My driving skills can be considered decent. If you want to go, I can go with you.”

As the situation became more and more off, you decided to simply head to the next amusement park attraction.

“How about the haunted house? I went with Xia Yan when we were little, and I went with Lawyer Zuo after for a team building activity for the law firm, and the murder story script I did with Mo Yi was pretty similar.” And Lu Jinghe…

A young, vigorous guy wouldn’t be scared of this, right?

“I’m not going.” Sure enough, Murphy’s Law strikes. If anything can go wrong, it will.

“What’s the matter, does the young CEO Lu fear ghosts?” Zuo Ran landed an attack first.

Mo Yi followed closely from behind. “Who would have thought that the 1.88 metre Lu Jinghe, the young CEO Lu, would also have things he fears?”

“You really can’t go on by simply growing taller without growing brains.” Xia Yan sniped in last.

Lu Jinghe shrugged. “Being scared of ghosts isn’t a big deal. Any normal person would be scared of them. Are you all really not scared of them?”

Silence. Dead silence.

Lu Jinghe: “… Pretend I said nothing.”

You smiled, relieving this strange atmosphere. “It’s fine, everyone has things they’re not good at. Let’s head to another attraction.”

“How about we head to the pirate ship?” Lu Jinghe pointed to the nearby pirate ship. “There’s also a pirate-themed restaurant beside it, and we can head over to eat in a bit.”

“How about… we change to another one?” You pursed your lips. Was it because you didn’t check the Chinese almanac before heading out today, or was it that these four just naturally run into issues?

“Jiejie, are you scared of this one?” Lu Jinghe smiled mischievously.

You said nothing, turning around to look at Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: “…”

Smiling, Mo Yi said, “So it turns out that the great Detective Xia isn’t great with the pirate ship.”

“Even special agents have things they’re not great with?” Zuo Ran flicked a casual glance to the pirate ship, from which screams kept coming from.

Stiffening his neck, Xia Yan shot back, “Special agents are people too, so of course there are things we’re not great at!”

“Alright alright, it’s getting late, so how about we go eat?” Playing the mediator, you said, “I know that there’s an elf-themed restaurant nearby; it’s a little like the ones on Skadi Island from before.”

“Alright, I’ll listen to you. Jiejie, I’ll cover the bill for your lunch. The rest of them can pay for themselves.” Lu Jinghe winked at you.

Zuo Ran said resolutely, “Lu Jinghe, as Pax is the largest investor in Stellis Amusement Park, I thought that you would be able to take on our four lunches as the acting CEO.”

Xia Yan nodded in agreement. “After all, between all of us, you’re the only one decked out in gold and silver – you pretty much look the most suitable for a kidnapping.”

Seeing the situation get more and more unfavourable, Lu Jinghe turned towards Mo Yi who was watching them argue with interest. “As the family teacher, shouldn’t you say something to preserve your student’s interests?”

Mo Yi smiled. “I also believe that this is an excellent opportunity for you to display your respect for your teacher.”

Young CEO Lu: “???”

“…” You helplessly held your forehead. Sure enough, when these guys are together, their ages when summed up do not exceed 12.

Ignoring the immature brats arguing behind you, you walked towards the elf restaurant, facing the sky helplessly as you sighed about the usefulness of Cheng Cheng’s suggestion. The NXX today was as harmonious as usual.

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #zuo ran #mo yi #lu jinghe #luke pearce #artem wing #vyn richter #marius von hagen #mihoyo #yikes not a fan of the new tumblr formatting #changing fonts and stuff is a lot less accessible now #ask

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ayellowcurtain · 4 years ago

Text

I can be your lover

chapter 3

Robbe doesn’t think too much about grabbing his phone anymore, clicking on the name, scrolling through the page, clicking on some old pictures just to see him again, watching the new stories, Sander partying with his friends until the early hours of this morning. It’s part of Robbe’s routine to check Sander’s social media like it’s brushing his teeth or skating back home hearing his music.

He brought it to himself so he has to suck it up. Sander is more than well adjusted to his new life, his new friends.

The conversations that used to happen constantly throughout every day changed a few months back and are now just a quick exchange of texts every few days, nothing longer than ten minutes, and nothing too deep inside each other’s lives too. Robbe still misses Sander like he did when Sander first moved away but he doesn’t have the space to say it anymore.

It was obvious that distance would push them apart. They were too naive to think they could beat it.

He missed his opportunities time and time again. The ticket he had to go visit expired a few weeks ago and he knows it was the last straw for Sander to give up on them completely, no matter how much Robbe tried to explain and how many times he apologized for not finding the time or courage to go visit.

Robbe is terrible with words but he managed to say them when he felt it but he’s a disaster with actions and he didn’t take one with someone that’s all about actions speaking louder than words.

“Baby, are you busy today?” He hears his mom’s words like they’re on the other side of a tunnel. He looks up and she’s smiling, repeating her words now that she has his attention.

“No...No, I’m not really busy, why?”

“I was thinking about going to the mall and shopping.” He can feel her excitement in her voice. They don’t do this often: outings that don’t involve their doctors or grocery shopping. And his mom has been doing really, really good and Robbe thinks if he lost one for his lack of attitude, he shouldn’t do the same with his mom.

“Okay. Let me just change.” He smiles back and she claps her hands, leaving his room to go grab her things. The last thing Robbe wants to do is go out but he’ll force a smile on his face and hold however many bags she needs him to hold.

to Jens: Do you want to do something tonight?

I need some beers

He puts his phone inside his jacket to give his mom his full attention for the afternoon, hoping Jens has planned something for them to do by the time he’s back home tonight.

Robbe doesn’t need anything but he lets his mom buy him lunch and when she shows him this perfect black leather jacket that looks a lot like one Robbe used to steal from Sander, he lets her buy it for him too. He checks his phone but there’s no message from Jens yet so he texts Zoe, inviting her for some coffee with his mom before they head home. It’s nice to see her again and his mom loves Zoe so much but Robbe can tell something is up. Zoe keeps looking at him in the way she does when she’s worried. He doesn’t ask because his mom is there and he doesn’t need his mom in the middle of whatever drama Zoe is hiding from him.

On their way back home it’s colder than expected after walking for so many hours inside the mall, the sun is completely gone so the temperature dropped drastically and Robbe finds any excuse to open the bigger bag he’s carrying, putting his new leather jacket on, searching for his phone to put inside the outer pocket. He holds it tighter and the screen lights up, showing the notification of a few new messages from Jens.

to Robbe: No plans but you can come by if you want, play some video game

talked to Jana yesterday

She told me Sander is hooking up with a girl…

Robbe stops walking, carefully reading every message again to make sure he didn’t misinterpret what Jens was saying. He knows he should read this with the biggest grain of salt because Jana has moved back a few weeks ago and she barely knows Sander but in the back of his mind, for a reason Robbe can’t understand, he thinks she might be telling Jens the truth.

to Jens: How does she know that?

He can guess the answer - Britt and her big mouth - but he doesn’t know what to say.

to Robbe: Britt told her that he’s been sleeping with someone for a while now but it’s nothing serious

probably just a fuck buddy

he did repost stories with a blonde girl tho

Robbe leaves to answer Jens later when he’s home, and he opens Instagram instead, Sander’s profile picture being the first one available for him to watch - his favorite hobby - and he clicks on it without thinking and there it is. Robbe keeps his thumb on the screen to freeze the frame.

It’s a stories of someone else that Sander shared. It’s too fast for Robbe to understand what’s going on but he stops when he sees Sander laughing, with sparkly eyes that are the sign that maybe he’s a little tipsy, always in a better mood after a few beers, his hair messy from what Robbe assumes to be strange fingers running through his locks and the girl finally turns back to look at whoever caught them making out, blushing with the brightest red lips and Robbe takes his finger off the screen and it’s over in the next second.

“Robbe…” Zoe is standing next to him, his mom a few steps forward waiting for them.

“Am I like the last one to know?”

Zoe presses her lips together, trying to justify not telling him about it but Robbe doesn’t really care. It’s his fault anyway. Sander has every right to move on and post it all over social media.

He shoves his phone back in his pocket and Zoe wraps her hands around his arm and forces him to start walking again, acting as nothing happened to his mom while they walk Zoe home and then go home themselves.

He tries to engage in whatever conversation his mom starts about picking which pizza they’ll eat tonight but his brain keeps replaying that quick clip over and over again even though he shouldn’t care.

Sander knows that he saw and he doesn’t text anything to Robbe, as he shouldn’t but Robbe expected him to.

He completely forgets about answering Jens and goes to bed right after eating half a pizza without noticing, turning his phone off, hoping he’ll wake up to some missed calls or texts from Sander, knowing it won’t happen.

The story is still there when Robbe wakes up the next morning. He clicks on Jens’ texts to finally answer him.

to Jens: sorry for disappearing last night, ate some pizza and passed out before I could tell you.

Thankfully, Jens is not online so Robbe won’t have to keep a conversation going when he’s still half asleep and in the worst possible mood.

He pushes himself to lie on his side, staring at the space next to him where Sander would usually sleep.

There were long months of miscommunication, frustration, and excuses because Robbe was too afraid of any change. He finally had the life he dreamed of, and two months after, Sander was moving to another country with no intention of coming back to visit every weekend. That change was big enough to paralyze him, unable to decide for himself what he wanted in their relationship. He thought they could maintain some degree of their relationship online while Robbe worked on himself but it wasn’t enough for Sander, clearly.

And Robbe couldn’t whine and beg for his attention so he kept his neediness to himself while their conversation got smaller and meaningless with time. The few things keeping them close are over now and Robbe can try to hide it all he wants but he knows it won’t be easy.

He clicks on another app that he opens frequently but this one just to look.

The airplane tickets aren’t too pricey, he just has to find one, buy and just fucking go there already! He can’t have another long semester letting the unknown eat his brain out. If he asks Sander he’ll give a too honest answer, cold without thinking about feelings because he’s hurt and he doesn’t care if Robbe gets hurt too because he brought this to them. Sander will be practical and Robbe needs him to be more considerate.

He stops scrolling when he finds a flight to Sander’s new town. His dad sent him his birthday gift in money and Robbe didn’t use much of it yet. Added with all the money his dad sends him every few weeks, it’s barely enough but it’ll work.

He buys the ticket before he can change his mind again and drops his phone on his mattress, looking forward. He has one hour to pack a bag and go to the airport. If he works fast enough he won’t have time to change his mind.

Robbe sits on his bed and grabs his school bag from the floor, unzipping it and turning it upside down on his bed to empty it, leaving the mess for him to deal with when he’s back. He doesn’t know for how long he’ll stay but it can’t be that long that he can’t fit in one bag.

If he tells anyone, as they did to him, they’ll end up telling Sander about his plans. Even Zoe would end up accidentally spilling the news to Jana and she would tell Britt. So Robbe tells Senne that he’ll need him to lie for Robbe for a few days. He needs to pretend he’s sleeping somewhere else so nobody will try to change his mind about jumping on a plane suddenly to go talk to Sander because of a social media post.

He’s the only one that won’t call him crazy or ask any questions.

When everything is planned with Senne, Robbe is finally done packing too, not giving himself even a second to look around and diggest the crazy plan he’s about to do, he’s almost late and the taxi is already downstairs, waiting for him.

He kisses his mom goodbye and quickly tells her he’s going to spend the week at Senne’s because he needs some help with Zoe. He’s out the door before giving a proper explanation or he would get caught in his lie, everything written all over his face because Robbe is that terrible of a liar.

The realization of how fucked his whole plan is only hits him when he’s already in his seat inside the airplane, high up in the sky, being offered some snacks that he declines.

He looks so desperate, jealous, and thinking sex will fix everything that he ruined. He looks and sounds hot and cold and confusing and Robbe hates the realization while he’s sitting inside an airplane, with no way out to go back home.

If he gets there and Sander is living a married life already with his blonde dream girl, Robbe will have to find a way to dig a hole and hide forever.

He sits forward, finally able to see groups of houses again down on the ground. The pilot tells them they’ll be landing soon and Robbe rushes to the bathroom before he won’t be able to. He washes his face and looks at himself in the mirror. He’s not doing a good job at hiding his nervousness.

He won’t even have time to hesitate while waiting for his bag. Everything he brought is in the compartment over his head. He only needs to get inside a cab and go to Sander’s place. In two hours or so he’ll have to deal with whatever he planned so quickly in his head.

Maybe if he asks what’s going on, it won’t feel so desperate. It’s not unfair to want to know where they stand. Even if it’s a closure that Robbe is not ready to have. He settles for asking, as calmly as he can, what’s going on between them now that there’s someone else again.

The airport is tiny and Robbe is a little bit lost, wandering without knowing where he’s supposed to go to find the taxis. Sander's address is still saved in a print Robbe took of their conversation before they started drifting apart.

Sander had moved to a better apartment that he could only afford because he was sharing with a few of his friends. Robbe remembers typing, asking why was Sander sending him that if they were barely talking to each other those days. He wanted Sander to tell him they were still okay enough but Robbe didn’t send the message, just said the place looked nice, and took a screenshot to save the address.

He asks the taxi driver if it’s a long drive and he shakes his head, looking at Robbe through the rearview, “Five minutes, not much more than that.”

Robbe sighs, trying to make some breathing exercises to prepare himself. Five minutes is not a lot of time, not enough either.

He tries to keep himself from overthinking as he jumps out of the car, putting his bag over his shoulder. The building seems very new, modern even and Robbe wonders how expensive it is to live there.

There’s a guy behind the desk when he walks in and he leads Robbe to the elevator, pressing the button for him, letting him go upstairs by himself. Robbe found a way to mumble, after giving the old man all his information, that it was a surprise so he wouldn’t call Sander. He seemed to get it, smiling and Robbe was giving the directions: on the third floor, the door on his right was Sander’s.

He fixes his hair, adjusts his bag on his shoulder, and stares at the door before knocking, hoping Sander is the one to open it, not one of his friends or the girl. He should have told him he was coming, at least Sander would have time to hide anything he might want to hide but Sander doesn’t seem unhappy to see him at his door. Robbe doesn’t remember what he had planned to say and Sander is quiet too, doesn’t look like he had much sleep time or any sleep for that matter.

He can barely open his eyes, wearing his underwear and a black shirt and Robbe doesn’t wait for another second, putting his hands on Sander’s neck, pulling him down for a heated kiss. He licks Sander’s mouth open, pushing him inside his apartment and Sander slams the door closed behind Robbe, gently taking his bag off his shoulder, finally awake enough to lead the way to a bed.

Robbe snuggles closer and carefully lies on Sander’s shoulder. He obviously changed the order of things but there’s no escaping a conversation now while they’re both wide awake, lying in bed together. Robbe wonders if Sander at least changed his sheets. He has to know what Sander is feeling but he’s so afraid of the answer.

He looks up and finds Sander already staring at him, with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“You know why I came?”

Sander lifts his eyebrows, looking elsewhere now and he sighs annoyingly.

“I’ll be surprised if I don’t.”

Robbe looks down again, at Sander’s hand casually just on his chest, like he’s waiting for Robbe to hold it like he would any other time. He doesn’t because it feels wrong yet but he walks with his fingertips over Sander’s knuckles, wanting to hold his hand, kiss him, tell Sander that there’s no way anyone else is better than them and that’s why he’s here.

“So…is this like Britt all over again?”

He knows it’s not the best way to ask if Sander still wants to be with him and just him but he can’t find another way to do it.

“No. I broke up with Britt right after our first kiss. And I’m not dating anyone right now. So it’s different.”

Robbe looks up knowing he’ll find an upset Sander, he doesn’t ask anything else to not risk his luck. He pushes himself up and looks at Sander face to face, staring at his still reddish lips, and kisses him again, leaving the rest of this painful conversation for later

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #sobbe #robbe x sander #I deleted the first post accidentally ):#please don't let this flop too bad

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

voltaire to versace 02 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 02

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 8.7k

warnings: honestly not much. sex jokes n references, dolley simping for james, broke college student meals

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

tags: @lunariasilver @tinywhim @nyxie75 @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @checkurwindow @katierpblogg — let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

"Dolley, holy shit; please tell me you're already home." Y/N's words were breathless as she hurried across the quad, muttering under her breath into her phone. She'd darted out of her lecture hall the moment they'd been dismissed, having no desire to stick around for the confrontation she knew was inevitable.

"I'm just getting out of class, dear," Dolley responded, but when she continued, her words were teasing. "What sort of trouble did you manage to get yourself into while I was gone?"

"I cannot begin to explain." Y/N let out a huff, glancing over her shoulder and ducking her head as she whispered, "but it's not good."

"Oh, good lord, Y/N; I was joking." She could hear the genuine worry begin to creep into Dolley's voice and couldn't help but wince.

"Yeah, I wish I was, too." She chalked the subsequent rush of static through the line up to Dolley's sigh. "Where are you right now? Can I meet you somewhere?"

"Want to go to dinner?"

"Too broke for that."

"Packaged ramen from the drugstore on the east side of campus?"

"Now you're speaking my language." Y/N grinned, and she could only picture Dolley rolling her eyes from wherever she was. "I'll be there in a few."

"You'd better. I can't wait much longer to hear what sort of nonsense you've been up to."

"You slept with a professor?!"

"Shh, Doll; not so loud," Y/N hissed, pulling her back into the soda aisle and frantically checking for any prurient eavesdroppers. Her voice was low when she added, "It was the guy at the bar last night. I had no idea he was a professor here."

Dolley let out a dry, disbelieving laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is... a mess."

"You're telling me."

"So, what's the plan going to be?"

When Dolley folded her arms, raising an amused eyebrow (a little too amused, in Y/N's humble opinion), but Y/N furrowed her brow. "What d'you mean, 'what's the plan?'"

"What are you going to do the next time you run into him?" Dolley asked. There was a pause; Y/N hadn't thought that far. "You don't really think you can make it through the semester ignoring this, do you?"

"I... Maybe? I don't know!" Y/N let out a frustrated huff. "That's what I need you to help me figure out. What else are you here for?"

"Oh, you make an excellent point," Dolley sighed. "All I do is pay half the rent and help you get laid at bars downtown."

Y/N scowled. "You helped me get laid by a professor. Just help me."

"Mmh, I don't think I heard a 'please' in there."

"Please, Dolley, my white knight to whom I owe my life," she pleaded, clutching her roommates arm and sighing wistfully. Dolley's lips were pressed into a line, but that didn't stop her smile from showing through. "I would be nothing without you; just please, do me this one final favor."

"Alright, alright," she conceded with a huff, shaking free from Y/N's grip. "Drama queen."

Y/N shrugged shamelessly. "I bring excitement into your life. Don't be ungrateful."

"Whatever you say, dear." The defeat in her words made Y/N grin. "So back to your excitement, then."

"I'm so lost," Y/N groaned, finally emerging from the soda aisle with shoulders slumped in defeat. "If the sex hadn't been so good, I'd probably just pretend it never happened."

Dolley creased her brow. "Was it really that good?"

Y/N turned to her with a serious demeanor, a hand on her shoulder as she looked her in the eye. "Dolley. I am covered in hickeys from my neck to my hips. That man damn near threw my back out. I won't bullshit you; there's no way I'm gonna be able to sit comfortably for—"

"Okay, alright! A 'yes' would've sufficed," Dolley cut her off, pushing past her to the shelf of instant noodles. Y/N looked disproportionately self-satisfied when she followed. "That's about enough details for one evening."

"You asked!"

"But you can't spend the entire semester ignoring him, Y/N," Dolley continued, ignoring her words. "That class is notoriously difficult — the only people I know who didn't frequent his office hours were the ones who got 'C's."

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as her roommate pushed cup after cup of beef ramen into her basket. "So then shouldn't I just put this whole thing behind me? I can't really start asking him to help me analyze Kant if I open the conversation with, 'hey, good to see you again, you're almost as good at teaching as you are in bed.'"

Dolley laughed at her dry tone. "I don't mean that, of course."

"Then what do you mean?"

"If you never agree to put this all behind you, I think it's going to be on both of your minds for the rest of the semester," she said matter-of-factly, hesitating when the freezer at the side of the room caught her gaze. "Should we pick up pizza rolls, too?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course we should," Y/N scoffed, brushing past her toward the Totino's section. "But if he and I both just ignore it, wouldn't that be an easier way to put it behind us?"

"Oh, grab a bag of the cheeseburger flavor, would you?" Dolley leaned in to look over Y/N's shoulder, ignoring her words altogether, and she glanced back with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you focus for five seconds?" She dropped three bags of pizza rolls — pepperoni flavor — into her basket with a huff. "Anyway, the cheeseburger flavor is disgusting. Get some taste."

"Don't discount the nostalgia of it!"

"Dolley." Y/N fixed her with a pointed look, and she sighed.

"We both know ignoring it is a poor idea, even if it is the easier option." Dolley didn't waste a second in pushing right past Y/N when she stood, grabbing a bag of the cheeseburger pizza rolls (an oxymoron in itself, as Y/N would've told her) before the freezer door could fall shut. "Just talk to him after class one day. Don't make it take more than five minutes."

"I don't even know where I'd start with that. I've dealt with awkward fallout from one-night stands before, but never with a professor." Her footsteps stalled within the last yard of the frozen section. "I've just gotta ignore it and focus on the coursework, Dolley. Wanna get some Ben and Jerry's?"

"Are you trying to distract me with a pint of chocolate fudge brownie?" Dolley asked incredulously, before adding, "Because it's working. Let's get two."

She grinned. "Excellent."

Y/N figured that was the end of it, that two pints of ice cream and an incredibly vague game plan would be enough to satiate her friend for the time being, but after they checked out, trying to figure out how many meals they could extend one pack of ramen to (because, really, if you just add more water, doesn't it make the servings bigger?), Dolley felt the need to return to it as they walked through the sliding glass exit doors, her words holding an air of finality.

"If you really want to insist on not just communicating with the poor man, Y/N, then fine." Y/N raised a quizzical eyebrow, not yet following where Dolley had abruptly turned the trajectory of their conversation. "But after his lecture on Wednesday, when you realize that leaving the subject untouched just makes it more unbearable—" ("'When'?" Y/N muttered dubiously.) "—then I need you to agree to go talk to your professor."

Dolley didn't wait for her response, squinting at the nutrition facts on the ramen labels as her focus drifted elsewhere (sure, it said two servings, but she was fairly sure that only the bourgeoise couldn't have stretched it to three), but Y/N let out a surrendering sigh.

"Wednesday's going to be just fine," she said, realizing but not caring that Dolley was no longer listening. "But if it isn't, I'll talk to him."

- -

Wednesday was not 'just fine.'

Y/N spent the entire class on edge, trying futilely not to let her thoughts drift back to the other night in the bar, then on the street in front of her building, then in the elevator, in her living room, even in the kitchen— but no, she was getting off track. Little did she know, Thomas was having precisely the same issue.

She jotted down his words almost robotically, the meaning of them going into one ear and out the other, more focused on the sound of his voice than on what he was actually saying.

Only once did she manage to focus for long enough to actually process a thought, but when he was fielding questions about the material, Thomas conveniently managed to miss her having raised her hand from where she was seated. She supposed she'd just positioned herself too far back and thought no more of it.

Despite how 'not fine' that day had been, she dismissed it as a fluke, showing up the next Monday with her head on straight, her readings prepared and annotated, and took a seat several rows further forward. Her motivation may have been misplaced, leaning a bit too far toward wanting to impress her professor and not far enough toward a desire to understand the material, but she was familiar enough with the content to feel comfortable giving her input on the questions he posed to the class throughout the lecture.

Again, her efforts bore no fruit. Her notes were better that day, so that was certainly something to count as a plus, but she left feeling put-out by the fact that she hadn't even had a chance to participate. Usually, she wouldn't have been so perturbed by this — sitting through a Socratic seminar playing tetris on her laptop was no unfamiliar experience — but this class accounted for six of the twelve credit hours she still needed for her chosen major. She didn't suppose that it'd be a good look to have the class dragging down her GPA to be the same one she was supposedly most passionate about; generally speaking, that wasn't what graduate schools were looking for.

Besides, she liked the subject, too. Surely that had to count for something?

And that was how she kept pushing off the inevitable conversation with Thomas — sorry, Professor Jefferson — and coming up with increasingly creative excuses as to why her efforts were being so plainly ignored, not only that following Wednesday, too, but also the Monday and Wednesday after. She'd made it through three weeks of classes before she could finally work up the nerve to confront him.

Unfortunately, that task proved to be no easier than her previous one.

Thom— her professor was always the last one into the lecture hall and the first one out, leaving no opportunities for chatter, or in her case, a supposedly inevitable clash she'd already begun arming herself for. She'd nearly caught him in the halls at various times, but he always seemed to have somewhere he urgently needed to be. The same doctrine followed in his office hours; apparently, another student had scheduled a meeting with him three minutes after every single time she arrived, without fail, so could she please just come back another time? Surely, another time would be better for both of them.

That time never came.

It was near the end of the fourth week that she was entirely fed up. They'd moved from Kant to Machiavelli, and so far, The Prince had her ready to tear her hair out. It didn't help that they'd all just finished the book, their first paper of the year on it due the next Monday.

She was far past lying to herself about her motives being purely academic while she continued to privately just want his attention — no, by then, she was hopped up on forty ounces of sugary coffee and just a touch of RedBull, and she hardly had a thesis for her paper. She'd read the same passages time and time again — she likely could've recited them word-for-word by the time she demanded feedback — and any shallow, vain desires for recognition were the furthest thing from her mind. She needed a professor, and she was pissed that Thomas didn't seem to have any interest in acting like one.

It was late Thursday evening when she marched across the green from the library to the building that housed his office in a fury. Yes, it was the last week of January; yes, the entire city was still coated in snow, but no, she could not bring herself to care about the very real possibility of frostbite as she trudged through the snow in sweatpants, slippers, and a tank top. Practicality wasn't her priority. Finishing her paper was.

Thomas's office hours were from 7 to 10 PM every evening, a schedule he stuck to religiously. It was 9:24 when Y/N began tracking snow through the bottom floor of his building, and 9:31 when she finally managed to locate and reach his actual office.

It was reluctant when she finally knocked, struggling to resist the urge to simply bust in and rip him a new one, but to her relief, it was simply met with a 'come in.' That was when she threw the door open in a fit of annoyance.

"You've been avoiding me," she said, eyes narrowed and tone accusatory before he could so much as react to her presence.

"Y/N, I—" His eyes were wide; he seemed to be at a loss for words as his eyes drifted down to her sweatpants and Hello Kitty slippers. He couldn't have convinced her it wasn't a dignified look even if he'd tried. "What are you doin' here?"

"We need to talk." She dropped her bag into one of the chairs in front of his desk, though she chose not to take a seat, instead glaring down at him, arms folded.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and though his head was down, his shadow of a grimace told her everything she needed to know: he'd been dreading this conversation far more than she had. "Look, right now really isn't a great time. I've got—"

"Don't bullshit me, Thomas."

"Professor Jefferson," he corrected her, the words hissed through gritted teeth, and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

"My bad. Don't bullshit me, Professor Jefferson." Y/N scowled as she took another step towards him. "Your office hours don't end until ten. There's no way you have time for a meeting between now and then if you haven't already started one."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. Alright, fine. And I know what you're gonna say, but—"

"Do you really?" she challenged him, head cocked to one side. "Because the fact that you haven't given me one chance to speak to you in almost a month tells me pretty clearly that you don't. Generally, you find out what people have to say by listening to them."

"We can't have this conversation here. You've gotta come find me some other time." The urgency in his voice only served to infuriate her further. What right did he have to be dictating this when he'd tried to stop the conversation altogether?

"Oh, believe me, I've tried," Y/N huffed. "I'm done accommodating. If you wanted to talk about this some other time, I would've been happy to, but we're well past that."

He held her burning gaze warily for another moment, but she didn't let up. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. Say your part. I'm listenin'."

"You've been completely freezing me out. You haven't been answering my questions in classes; you haven't been letting me contribute to discussions; you, most recently, haven't let me talk to you for more than five seconds, hence why I'm here." She launched into an irate monologue without any further encouragement, and to his credit, Thomas at least had the decency to look guilty. "You've been turning me away at your office hours; for fuck's sake, Thomas, you haven't even answered any of my emails!"

"I know, I know," he said, and though she could see the exhaustion written across his face, she didn't let him continue. "But you've gotta understand—"

"I'm not done," she cut him off, and it was then that he raised an affronted brow. "Anyway, I get why you're keeping your distance. Really, I do. And honestly? I can't really blame you for it."

"Well, great, so—"

"But with that said," —she gave Thomas an expectant look as she continued to speak over him, challenging him to try and interrupt— "You've been doing more than keeping your distance. You've been outright ignoring me, and that's where I'm drawing a line in the sand. Refusing to engage with me doesn't help either of us."

She let out a heavy breath when she finally reached the end of her rant, and though he was certainly taken aback, Thomas looked unimpressed.

"May I speak now?" he asked mockingly, and she scowled. "Or are you just gonna keep cuttin' me off?"

"Depends how much bullshit comes out of your mouth."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure." He put his pen back into the cup on the edge of the desk before drawing himself up to the fullest height he could reach in a rolling chair. With how he was looking at her, with how cross his tone was, Y/N may have backed down in another context, but quite frankly, she was beyond having anything to lose. "I understand that you're hurt, Y/N, and for that, 'm honestly sorry, but—"

"I'm not hurt, I'm ticked!"

"Y/N." That time, his hard voice, his barely-contained anger, did make her shrink away, just a bit. "You've gotta realize that what happened is in the past. It was a mistake. I didn't know you were a student here — you even told me you went to school in Chicago."

"I did, for two years."

"Doesn't matter. Moral of the story is that you've gotta leave that in the past. I'm your professor now, and that's a boundary that can't be crossed. We both need to stop dwellin' on it." His saying 'we' rather than 'you' certainly didn't go unnoticed, but Y/N deemed it not worth addressing.

"Great. It's behind us. Can you stop ignoring me now?"

"Come on, Y/N—"

"Seriously? You're gonna argue with that?" She threw her hands up in a huff, beyond exasperated and crossing the line to indignance. "You wanna remind me that you're my professor? Then stop acting like I don't exist. It's that simple, Thomas."

"It's Professor Jefferson. And I'm not tryin' to ignore you," he defended. "But don't you see the position this puts me in? My job's at stake here. This can never happen again!"

"And who said I wanted it to?" she bit back immediately, and for just a moment, Thomas was rendered silent.

"If that's not what you're lookin' for, then what are you here for?" His voice was quiet, his gaze searching, and Y/N sighed.

"Seriously? I haven't made myself clear enough?" She raised an eyebrow, but his blank look told her all she needed to know. The tension in her shoulders dropped; her combative stance went neutral when she reached into her bag, pulling it from the chair in front of his desk. "You're the one who keeps emphasizing that you're my professor — and that's what I need you to be right now."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly lost as she withdrew Machiavelli's The Prince from her bag, beaten up and slathered in colored tabs around the edges. She added in a small voice, "I've been struggling with the reading. I did it all, but there are just a couple passages that... I need help with."

Thomas — no, Professor Jefferson (god, was she ever going to struggle with getting that down) — looked stunned, plain and simple. Y/N had expected all of his assumptions for why she'd shown up there. Two weeks earlier, they may have also been accurate ones, but ultimately, she was still just a student. He'd really had to have had a big head to think he'd take priority over that for any extended period of time.

His eyes were wide. He continued to look toward her, but his gaze was blank, slowly drifting to his desk, until finally, he sighed. "Well, shit. I, uh... I'm really sorry, Y/N. Really." If the growing guilt behind his shock hadn't been clear enough in his demeanor, it was woven tightly into his voice. His stare flickered back up to her, and despite her lingering irritation, the apology in it softened her. "I got so caught up in my own problems that I didn't even consider. I didn't mean to assume that you... y'know."

"Came here to try and get dicked down?" Y/N supplied, voice dry as she watched him expectantly. He cracked a sheepish smile.

"Somethin' like that."

"As though it'd be worth the effort," she snorted. "There are, like, thirty frats on campus, and I have a paper due Monday — in case you'd forgotten. If I wanted to get laid, I'd do it much more efficiently."

"Mm, but would it be as good?" At the clear ego in Thomas's playful stare, Y/N's eyebrows shot toward her hairline.

"Now who's crossing boundaries?"

Despite the skepticism in her voice, Thomas laughed. "'M just kiddin'. Promise."

"Hilarious." Her small, persistent smile undermined her sarcasm, and his gaze was soft.

"Alright, alright, come take a seat. Show me which pages you're strugglin' with."

"Yeah, so it's less full pages and passages than it is key phrases I just can't seem to connect to the rest of the work." Y/N lowered herself into the chair that wasn't already holding her bag as she flipped open her book to her third pink tab, turning it to show him. "Like, here. Chapter 19."

"Mhm."

"I understand what the whole page is getting at, but look at this..."

They sank easily into the text, despite being focused more on one another's voices than on the writing itself. Ten PM had long since come and gone, but as the night stretched on, the pair only continued to pass Y/N's book back and forth, bouncing from passage to passage, idea to idea as though no time had passed at all. Neither of them bothered to check any sort of a clock until Y/N let out a loud, drawn-out yawn. Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"You gettin' tired?" Y/N gave a halfhearted shrug as he finally checked his watch, and his eyes widened. "Shit, it's past eleven. We should get you outta here."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Her voice was weary as she lifted herself out of her seat, tucked her book back into her bag. "I've got everything I need for my paper, anyway."

"Glad to hear it." Thomas reached for his coat as she made her way to the door, but she paused when he asked, "You're not thinkin' of walkin' home, are you?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "What if I am?"

Thomas furrowed his brow. "Tell me that's a joke. That's gotta be a joke." Y/N shrugged, and Thomas groaned lightly. "In that outfit, you freezin' and gettin' abducted are equally likely, you know that?"

"Aw, thanks for letting me know! Now I feel so much safer," she said, plastering on a mocking smile.

"Lemme call you an Uber," he offered, and Y/N quirked a brow.

"Are you that much of a one-trick pony?"

"If makin' sure women get home safe is my only trick, I think it's a pretty good one to have," he said matter-of-factly, and Y/N had to laugh.

"I can appreciate that. An Uber would be great." Y/N pulled her bag up her shoulder as she returned to his door. "I'll see you Monday?"

"Mhm. Your driver's named Amy, and she's drivin' a blue Camry, by the way," Thomas informed her, and Y/N smiled. "G'night, Y/N."

"Night, professor."

From then on, Y/N began frequenting Thomas's office hours, only hesitantly at first. While her motives were genuine, all of them being centered around getting into grad school, she didn't want to become overbearing, especially with the one night, the sixteen stolen hours that still hung over their heads. She stopped by twice the following week, neither time staying long as other students began to trickle in, peeking nervously around the corner toward his office, knocking so quietly at first that neither Thomas not Y/N realized someone was there. She didn't need him any more than her classmates did, so she yielded her time gracefully.

Moreover, she knew that only very little of the time he offered to students wasn't already occupied, and while the reason for that was certainly clear to her, she wasn't sure whether it'd gone over his head. It wasn't until the fourth time she went to meet with him that she found he was every bit as aware as everyone else.

"Hey, Thom—" Y/N cut herself off with a wince. "Professor Jefferson, you around?" she called down the hall to his office, nose still buried in the email from the anthropology department that she'd pulled up on her phone (apparently they were having a bake sale on the east green; Y/N didn't bother to read further and learn why once she saw they'd have caramel brownies). She only glanced up when she didn't receive an answer, instead hearing chatter drift down the hall, and her footsteps slowed as she neared his doorway. Her eyebrows shot up.

Y/N recognized the woman seated — well, hardly still seated, at that point — with her back to her as Lucy Hart, who sat front and center during every single one of their lectures, who was now all but draping herself across Thomas's desk, leaned onto her forearms and with a pen between her teeth.

Though she seemed to find whatever Y/N had just missed to be hilarious, Thomas's amusement was forced, uneasy as he eased his hand away from where hers had fallen to cover it, holding the book open by one of its ends.

"Alright, Miss Hart, we'll see." Whatever the question was, Thomas wasn't about to give her a straight answer, but Lucy seemed to take that as a challenge. Her cleavage finally spilled back into the neckline of her dress when she sat back in her seat, but she traced one finger up Thomas's forearm.

"I guess we will," she replied. She hadn't seemed to have caught on to how wildly uncomfortable she was making him — Y/N could only assume Lucy had decided she'd left him 'flustered.' She reached for his copy of Hobbes's Leviathan, her perfectly manicured fingers brushing over his as she did so. "Now, where were we?"

Ahem.

From the angle they were seated at, neither Thomas nor Lucy had noticed Y/N standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised — when she cleared her throat, though, they both jumped. Their reactions to her presence couldn't have been more disparate. The relief written deep in Thomas's tiny smile was obvious, but Lucy was looking her over with a scowl.

"Hey," Y/N finally said, taking a step forward. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"'Course not." It was Professor Jefferson who answered, tone formal and body language neutral, but how quickly he'd answered, overtly cutting off Lucy, told Y/N she wasn't misreading the situation. "What can I do for you, Y/N?"

"Yeah, Y/N," Lucy furthered, eyeing her dubiously. "Why are you here?"

Y/N's gaze flickered between the pair of them, the tension in Thomas's shoulders subtle but clear as he inched his arm further from Lucy's. "Last I checked, Professor Jefferson, we had a meeting scheduled for right about now."

Her smile was genuine despite how Thomas knit his dark brow; she hadn't yet moved past finding the ordeal wildly entertaining. "Do we?"

"I thought so," she added with a shrug, and when her pointed gaze fell to Lucy, who still looked irate sitting in the small tufted chair across from him, Thomas sighed, and Y/N felt confident it'd been a sigh of relief. He seemed to have realized the escape rope she'd thrown into his lionness's den. "Unless I got the time wrong? It could've been tomorrow evening, I—"

"No, no you're in the right," he cut her off a little too adamantly, and though she'd already begun to dig through her phone for the nonexistent calendar event, she looked up with her eyebrows raised. "'S my bad. I took the timing down wrong."

Y/N had to bite down her self-satisfied smile. "Are you sure? Because really, we can reschedule; I'm also available—"

"No. Now's just fine," he assured her, and the indignant look Lucy shot him had the beginnings of a smile creeping past Y/N's innocent mask. "Made a promise, and it'd be only right to keep it, wouldn't it?"

"It is your responsibility to model integrity, professor."

"Then I guess I've gotta make sure I don't give anybody the wrong idea."

Y/N wasn't sure whether the words, 'the wrong idea' were pointed at her or at Lucy, or whether they were even pointed at all, with her simply reading too far into a nonexistent subtext to take them at face value. She didn't dwell much longer.

"Well, thanks for stoppin' by, Miss Hart—" Vindication flashed in Y/N's eyes when she noticed his electing not to use Lucy's first name. "—I hope all this discussion's deepened your understandin' of Hobbes's view on human nature."

"Oh, I've learned quite a bit about human nature," Lucy said as she stood, and Thomas's discomfort hadn't faded. Y/N was struggling to comprehend what about her words possibly justified her tone being so suggestive. "I hope I can come back another night for you to teach me a little more of it, Thom— oh! I mean, Professor Jefferson."

She glanced bashfully at Y/N with her final few words, her sheepish front fooling no one. Y/N wasn't sure to what end, but this was a clear ploy for her jealousy — she'd been around the block once or twice. Y/N genuinely struggled to contain her amusement as Lucy shot him a wink before turning to leave, exaggerating the movements of her hips. The door fell shut behind her.

It wasn't until Lucy's footsteps were out of earshot that Thomas let out a heavy sigh, sinking down in his chair, and Y/N let out the laugh she'd spent the past ten minutes swallowing.

"So, Lucy Hart, huh? That's who you've been spending all your alleged 'office hours' with?" she started, and Thomas's glare was weak.

"C'mon, Y/N."

"Is that why your door's locked half the times I show up here? Today wasn't very subtle, you know."

"Y/N." His voice was hard when he gave her a pointed look, but with how tired he looked, she didn't push it further, just smiled.

"Relax; I'm just kidding." She shrugged off her jacket. "I know that if you were to sleep with a student, it wouldn't be Lucy. Don't worry."

He raised his eyebrows at her audacity, her smug grin, but he couldn't prevent the amusement that showed through to his expression. "Really? You're gonna go there?"

"Go where?" When she knit her brow, plastered on a confused frown, Thomas had to swallow his laugh. "Now, I'm just not sure what you're implying, professor. Do you plan on sleeping with Lucy?

"Hilarious, Y/N." His rolling his eyes left her undeterred. "In all seriousness, though, I think she really believes she is bein' subtle."

"Unfortunately, I'm well aware," Y/N sighed. "I've seen her at a few too many parties to have any illusions about what a painfully tactless flirt she is."

"You're tellin' me."

"Has it been like this all semester?" she asked. Sure, Y/N had seen how shameless Lucy was during lectures, leaving no stone unturned to draw attention to herself, but this seemed a new level of egregious. Yet, Thomas nodded.

"Once a week, every week. Least, when it isn't more than that."

"Sometimes it's more?" Y/N let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh, and Thomas nodded his solemn confirmation. "Jesus. So this is why you look pissed every time she participates in class. I figured you just hated the sound of her voice as much as I do."

"Believe me; I've been startin' to."

"That's so harsh!"

"Aw, c'mon, and you wouldn't?"

Y/N shrugged, pursed her lips, but her eyes glinted with hubris. "Well," she said, "It'd depend on how hot the student was. I mean, in my opinion, if Lucy was me, it just might be a different story."

Thomas couldn't bring himself to look annoyed. "Yeah, yeah. Alright," he said, shaking his head at her words. "You think you're fuckable. I get it."

"Glad we agree." Y/N's lips quirked up into a smug smile, but Thomas raised his eyebrows.

"Hang on, now. That's not quite what I—"

"But if she's really bothering you," Y/N continued, altogether disregarding his protests, and Thomas sighed. "You know you could just, like, talk to Lucy about it, right? You're the one with the power, here."

She couldn't put her finger on exactly why he winced at the latter sentence.

"Guess so, I just... I dunno. 'S really no big deal; I'm just gettin' fed up with all that." He gave a halfhearted shrug that made her raise an eyebrow. "But don't worry 'bout that. Why're you here, if not for the meetin' we've supposedly got scheduled for tonight?"

His tone was light, playful with the question, but Y/N was still stuck on what he'd started with. "Hold on; you can't just deflect that easily."

"Deflect from what?" He furrowed his brow, but Y/N just huffed, walking toward the near side of his desk.

"From whatever you're getting 'fed up with all of,'" she said, and when she eyed him skeptically, his fatigued sigh told her she wasn't imagining things. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah, sure, join me." Thomas beckoning her toward his empty chairs was almost absentminded. "But really, it's nothin'."

"No offense, but I don't know if I believe you." As she sank down into one of his guest's seats, a conflicted look flickered across his gaze, building further on the concern in her words. "What's up? C'mon; talk to me."

He hesitated. "'M serious, Y/N; it's not—"

"Thomas."

He raised an eyebrow, but it took her a moment to notice her own error. "Excuse me?"

"Professor Jefferson, I mean. Of course." Her smile was sheepish, but it just made him chuckle.

"Alright, alright. 'S nothin' serious, anyway, but 'm just gettin' sick of not bein' taken seriously."

Y/N's words were hesitant as she raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? People take you seriously."

"Mm, but do they?" He sighed as he sat back in his chair. "I'm the youngest professor on campus; half my office hours are taken up by undergrads hittin' on me. It's hard to feel like I'm gettin' a lot of respect when you don't even treat me like a professor."

"Hey, come on, I respect you," she defended, and he shook his head.

"I don't mean you, specifically, Y/N. Just... your whole class. I'm already hardly old enough to be teachin' at a university, but it also kinda sucks to see how many people pretend to care about learnin' just to get my attention," he said, and his voice was soft. His quiet sigh made Y/N frown, especially as his absent gaze wandered through his own office.

"I'm sorry," she said, and he glanced back over to her. "Keep in mind, though, you made the first move on me. Not the other way around."

Despite her having been entirely serious, her words made Thomas laugh — a full-bodied laugh, too, one that couldn't help but make her smile in return. "Thanks for lettin' me know," he said, and though she rolled her eyes at his sarcastic tone, she was glad to see him lightening up. "Sorry to say it, sweetheart, but not everything's about you."

Neither noticed his casual term of endearment. "What a shame," Y/N sighed.

"Mm, I'm sure. I guess I just..." When he trailed off, Y/N raised a brow, and the concerned look in her eyes was what prompted him to continue. "I know I'm smart, 'n all, but it never feels great to feel discounted. Especially bein' new to the faculty."

"I hear that," Y/N said, her tone light but gaze solemn. "For what it's worth, I do come to your office for help because I know you can and want to provide it, not because I have some ulterior motive."

"Glad to hear it." Though his tone almost suggested he may have been being facetious, Y/N could tell that he wasn't making fun. "But on that note, thanks for givin' me an out with the Lucy fiasco. What'd you need, comin' here?"

Y/N's smile was small, all but apologetic as she unzipped her bag after pulling it into her lap. "Right. So, I know this isn't your job, and all..."

When she trailed off, Thomas eyed her suspiciously, especially as her lips only seemed to stretch further into a grin. "What's this about?"

"Is there any chance you'd be willing to read over my paper for my constitutional law seminar?" At the hopeful look she wore as she withdrew her printed essay from her bag, he had to laugh.

"Really? You're not even here for somethin' about my class?"

"Yes or no, professor?" She raised a brow, waving the packet back and forth expectantly.

"And why'd you decide to come see if I'd look through it? What makes you think I'm gonna?"

"You read over my French paper last week!" she pointed out, and Thomas sighed.

"Yeah, 'cause I speak French."

"You speak English, too. And you worked in government." Y/N shrugged, putting the paper down on his desk regardless. "So, please? I'd ask my roommate, but she's studying business, and you must know how that goes."

"You trashin' on business majors?" Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"If I was, would I be wrong?"

Her deadpan stare made him laugh. "Can't argue with that. Give it here."

He held his hand out for the essay, and she gave it to him with a wide grin. "You're the best."

"What else is new?" he asked, and despite how dry his tone was, his eyes were teasing. "You wanna go through it with me now, or should I get it back to you some other time?"

"Any chance we can go over it now?" she asked. "It might sort of be due in two days."

His eyebrows shot up. "Are you tellin' me I'm some kinda last resort?"

"Of course not!" she defended, but she hesitated before continuing, "Just an eleventh-hour supplementary resource who's going to help me get a diploma."

"I'm sure," he said, and the skeptical look he gave made the corners of her lips twitch. "You owe me, y'know that?"

"Really. I should start paying you, one of these days."

"To be fair, you do pay my salary."

"Mm, maybe some students do, but I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you."

Thomas furrowed his brow, confusion permeating every aspect of his expression as he looked back at her. "What, you 'n Elizabeth Warren linked up in a personal campaign for free college?"

"No, but the president of financial aid and I did." She shrugged. "Honestly, they saved my ass. Sorry I'm not raising your salary, or anything, but I hardly pay to go here."

When he slowly nodded, she could see the small, subtle smile tugging at his lips. "I'll try not to hold it against you. 'M glad you ended up here anyway."

Y/N's grin was exaggerated, a fact she did nothing to conceal. "Aww, professor, I knew you secretly liked having me here."

He rolled his eyes, but his smile mirrored hers. "I meant that I'm glad that money isn't holdin' you back from gettin' a good education."

"I'm sure you did."

Thomas cocked a brow. "D'you want me to read your paper or not?"

At his words, Y/N had to bite back her cocky grin, and she nodded. "Yes, please."

"Then get off your high horse 'n listen." Despite his words, amusement sat heavy in the way he was skeptically eyeing Y/N.

"Of course, professor."

"It's been shockingly chill."

Y/N was sprawled out on the carpet of her living room, a styrofoam cup of ramen in one hand and chopsticks in the other, while Dolley sat curled up at the end of the couch flipping through Netflix on their TV.

"No lingering sexual tension?" Dolley challenged, glancing down to where Y/N was slurping her noodles (she'd asserted that ramen on the couch was too high of a stain risk). Y/N shook her head, and Dolley raised an eyebrow. "Really? No secret desire to end up bent over his desk?"

"Okay, listen, what I want and what I act on are two very different things." She pointed her chopsticks at Dolley accusatorily. "I can have it both ways."

"So you're still looking for another night of fun?" Dolley raised a playful eyebrow, and Y/N only grinned.

"Are you offering?"

"I could be convinced, dear." The wink Dolley sent her made Y/N laugh, broth sloshing down the side of her cup that she didn't hesitate to lick off of the back of her hand.

"Mhm, because my sex appeal is through the roof, I'm sure."

"Alright, I'll confess. I am only joking, after all," Dolley sighed, a wistful look in her eyes as she scrolled through the Netflix TV dramas category. "But only because things with James are going better than I expected."

Y/N's eyes widened; she spun in her spot on the floor. "Dolley, oh my God, spill! You've been holding out on me."

"There's not much for me to spill, really." She shrugged, and the smile she wore was coy. "He and I have just been getting on well. Nothing more to it."

"No. Uh-uh." Y/N shook her head, setting her near-empty instant ramen onto their coffee table. "You're gonna give me more than that. You have to. Clearly something's been happening."

Dolley bit her lip. "So, would we rather watch Stranger Things or The Good Place?"

"Don't you dare change the subject!"

"Alright, alright," she finally sighed, and her gaze was soft when she finally met Y/N's eyes. "So, we've been seeing each other more often. Getting coffee, grabbing lunch between classes. He's even had me read over different drafts of his thesis."

"Aww, he's using you as an editor? How romantic!"

"Make fun all you want, but he trusts me with it. Isn't that worth something?"

"Of course it is, Doll." Y/N smiled, unable to tease Dolley further when she had such a sappy look in her eyes. "But if you've been dating, why am I just finding out?"

She didn't meet Y/N's gaze, fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeves. "We haven't been going on dates, really."

"Oh yeah? This is how you talk about hanging out with everyone else you aren't dating?" The challenge in Y/N's tone made her scoff, roll her eyes, but they both knew she had a point.

"It's nothing official."

"But do you want it to be?" Y/N quirked a brow. Dolley's smile was faint.

"Maybe a little," she said quietly, and Y/N's grin broadened.

"That's adorable. I'm thrilled for you," she said, but there was a heavy pause before she hesitantly added, "but be careful with him."

Dolley furrowed her brow, finally turning toward where Y/N sat. "What d'you mean?"

"You have a habit of quickly getting attached to men who turn out to be terrible for you. Remember Henry?"

"Knox or Clay?"

"Either. You're making my point." Y/N gave her a knowing look, but Dolley didn't seem overly offended. "You're just too quick to give people the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone deserves it."

"But that's what you love about me, dear."

"Don't you turn my undying love and affection for you against me!" Y/N protested, and though she rolled her eyes, Dolley appeared to be entertained. "I adore you for what a sweetheart you are, but it's also what men take advantage of."

"Yes, I know; you've given me this talk before," Dolley sighed. "But really, I think this time might be different. I really like James."

Y/N pursed her lips. "It'd better be. Otherwise he's gonna have hell to pay."

"I'm not too worried."

"I am."

"Would you feel better if I gave you a chance to screen him?" Y/N raised an interested eyebrow at Dolley's words. "Because I invited him to come over Wednesday night for dinner. If you'd like, it'll be a prime time for you to interrogate him."

She sighed. "I dunno, Doll. I don't want to third wheel."

"You live here. You won't be third-wheeling," Dolley pointed out. "And you wouldn't have to stay! You could just pop in, say hello, and either leave or just go wait him out in your room."

A small smile grew across Y/N's lips at her words. "And you'll seriously let me interrogate him?"

"Have at it."

"I'm in."

Dolley 🥺💋 sent: James is coming over in five minutes, so get home whenever

Dolley 🥺💋 sent: unless of course you've decided to grant him your tacit approval

Y/N sent: be home soon 😪

Dolley 🥺💋 sent: see u 😘

"Y/N?"

It was Wednesday evening, around 6 PM. Y/N's political philosophy seminar had just been let out, but she'd really spent most of her focus over the past three hours on figuring out exactly how to determine whether or not James was a piece of shit. Apparently he was bringing takeout to her and Dolley's apartment for all three of them, which she saw to be a point in his favor.

However, as her classmates filed out of the lecture hall, Y/N stood idly, taking hesitant steps forward out of her row as she tried to multitask, neither eager to stop texting Dolley or to trip all the way down the steps to the front of the room. It was Professor Jefferson who knocked her out of the reverie that'd been induced by the promise of James delivering what she imagined to be the best food she'd had in weeks.

She looked up with a brow raised, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "Hey, professor."

"You have a second to talk?"

"Oh, um..." Despite her deep-seated motivation to get home before dinner was cold, she supposed it could wait just a little longer. She nodded. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

She pulled her bag onto her shoulder as she stepped out onto the hall's staircase, maybe three rows up from where Thomas stood at the bottom floor.

He leaned nonchalantly against the first row of desks. "So, the TA I've had since first semester's leavin' in a week or two. He's goin' abroad to South Korea for the fourth quarter, 'n he's decided to resign from bein' my assistant at the end of this week, so that he can make sure he's got everything in order for the next three months."

She frowned. "That's too bad. I'm sorry to hear it." She folded her arms, paused before adding, "So what, you want me to break the news to the class that we aren't getting those papers on the Enlightenment back anytime soon?"

At her quirked brow, her playful smile, Thomas had to give a light laugh. "Mm, I'm hopin' it won't come to that."

"You should probably get to grading instead of keeping me from dinner, then."

"Oh, 'm sorry; how dare I, really?" He responded, a hand over his heart, and she had to bite back her entertained smile at the irony in his indignance.

"Honestly. I can't imagine why I put up with it."

"I'll make it up to you," he said dryly. "But seriously, 'm not just tellin' you that for the sake of small talk. What I'm sayin' is that I have an openin' to find a new TA."

"I see," she said, raising an eyebrow. "And where, pray tell, do I come into all this?"

It wasn't that his train of thought was hard to follow, nor was his implication, but until he said it outright, Y/N had no desire to make any sort of an assumption.

He smiled. "You have any interest in becomin' a TA?"

"Seriously?" She furrowed her brow. "I mean, I appreciate it, but why?"

"First off, your work's consistently at the top of this class," he said matter-of-factly. They both knew she was well aware of this, after the hours in his office she'd spent grilling him on the historical context of every one of Voltaire's assertions and the implications of every early revolution. "You're a good writer, 'n you're more than capable of reviewin' other students' work. You've also already taken most of the other classes I teach, so you're familiar with all the material."

She nodded slowly, folding her arms, and though her expression would've conveyed that she was deep in thought, she couldn't suppress her growing smile. "I see. So it doesn't have anything to do with how attractive or charming I am?"

When she raised a playful eyebrow, he laughed outright. "Whenever your charm can start gradin' thirty ten-page papers a day, I'll start takin' it into account."

"Don't underestimate it."

"Alright, alright, I'll keep it in mind." He shook his head, and his lingering smile made the corners of her lips twitch. "'M serious, though. If you've already got enough on your plate, and you don't wanna take on another commitment, that's cool 'n all, and I can always ask someone else. But would you want the position?"

She pursed her lips, eyed him hesitantly. "Will I need to apply for it?"

"Nah," he said. "By the university's policy, you've gotta send me your resume and transcript, but if you wanna be my TA, you've got it. So?"

When she bit her lip, his eyes flickered down to her mouth so briefly that she almost didn't notice it. "I don't know, Thom—" He raised a brow. "Professor. Is there any chance I can think on it and get back to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, 'course. I can give you 'til the end of the week, if that's enough time?"

"That'd be great." As she held his gaze, she couldn't help but ponder exactly what she was being asked. She was sure his motives were pure; she couldn't imagine for the life of her Thomas giving her a job with the intent of breaking down professional boundaries so he could sleep with her, but that was where her mind was going regardless. "I'll stop by and let you know on Friday."

"I'm countin' on it." He wore a wide grin that shouldn't have and usually wouldn't have put her on edge. Her mind had fallen down the rabbit hole of fixating on just how much more time she'd be spending with him as his TA — he saw enough of her during his office hours, but she was of two minds with that. On one hand, what would a few more hours change? However, on the other, all she was hearing was that he didn't mind spending a few more hours with her. "I'll see you then?"

When he raised an eyebrow, she finally realized she'd spaced out for a solid minute, and she fixed on a smile, though it was tense. "See you then."

She left without another word.

James proved to be a nice guy when Dolley had him over; he brought burgers and milkshakes for all three of them. However, Y/N knew she'd only find herself on Dolley's bad side however many hours later. As much as he was talking, Y/N didn't retain a single word he shared about himself, despite having promised she'd use the evening to formulate her opinion on him. So much for protecting Dolley.

Instead, Professor Thomas Jefferson occupied every one of her thoughts.

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supernatural-jackles · 5 years ago

Text

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,510

Warnings: Minor Angst, Mentions of Semi- Forced Prostitution, Manipulation, Ketch is a HUGE douchebag, Anxiety, Sickness, FLUFF!

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Are you ready to hate Ketch more? Happy Sunday!! As always, I love hearing your thoughts on this story!! Only two parts left after this!! Happy reading!!

Finally!

You were free.

You walked out of the building with your head held high. You had just finished your last final for the semester and you had a great feeling about it. Not only was it your easiest exam, but it was also your longest. It was a simple essay about the things you had learned in the class throughout the semester and how they are relevant to your life outside of the class. It was simple and you finished it in record time. Now you were free until next semester. You had all of Christmas break to relax and spend time with your boyfriend.

It was your turn to pick up the groceries this week. Dean had wanted you to grab him some shampoo, and a stick of deodorant. That was all he needed. You on the other hand needed a bunch of things. You were out of tampons and running low on pain meds for the monthly visit from Mother Nature. The fridge was practically empty, and the freezer was no better.

You grabbed a cart before entering the store. It was pretty empty for just after one in the afternoon. Everyone was at work, which was going to make shopping a little easier. You went about your usual routine. Starting with fruits and vegetables. You had certain things you needed in order to make dinner. Dean liked to have lettuce in the house at all times because of how useful it was. Tacos, burgers, salads. So many purposes. You picked up some carrots, onions and celery too, knowing it was going to get cold. It was always good to have for soup.

You turned down the aisle you needed the most, grabbing a box of tampons off the shelf, along with a box of pads, just in case. Your cart was getting pretty full with all of the stuff you threw in on your way to this aisle. You headed straight, knowing that Dean’s shampoo would be at the other end when you hit something.

“Y/N,” the female voice breathed out. Your eyes darted up, not believing what you were seeing. The last person you wanted to see, well, one of the last people you wanted to see anyways. Hell, you were surprised she spoke.

“Jo,” you scoffed, taking your cart to move away from her.

“Y/N, wait,” she called out.

“What? What do you want Jo?” you rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up in defeat. Her stomach was huge. She had to be seven months along by now, at least. You had to admit to yourself, it was a little funny to see her in this situation.

“To apologize,” she frowned. “Can - can I take you out to lunch, please. I promise, one lunch and I’ll leave you be.”

“What’s the point?” you sighed.

“We were best friends at one point,” she sniffled.

“Were,” you pointed out.

“Please. I just - I want to explain things,” she shrugged. “Please. You can hate me all you want after. But I’d really like to tell you everything.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “One lunch.”

“I’ll meet you at Benny’s in twenty?” she told you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

You went about the rest of your groceries. Your mind was reeling over what just happened. What could she possibly have to say to you, especially after all this time? She had Ketch, and she had a baby on the way. She was wasting her time, and quite frankly, so were you. There was nothing more she could say to make amends for all she did. She had proven she didn’t care about you long ago.

You paid for your groceries and headed back out to your car. Thankfully, you didn’t buy anything frozen so you could afford to sit for a little while without things melting. You didn’t think this lunch was going to last long whatsoever. You had visions of you storming out on her. Or worse, seeing Ketch there with her. You really didn’t want to do this. Why did you have to be a good person? Why did you have to listen to that tiny voice in the back of your head that was telling you to hear her out.

You pulled into the parking lot at Benny’s, taking the first available spot around the side of the building. You swallowed hard, knowing full well you should have ditched and headed home. You held your head high, willing yourself to stay confident. You didn’t want her to see you were weak or hurt by this. You were over this now. You were over Ketch and you had moved on. Your life was going better than it had been for a long time. You weren’t about to resort back to how things were before.

Jo was sitting in one of the booths that the group of you used to sit in late at night when you were drunk. They served the best of everything in this diner. It was a shock that you and Dean hadn’t eaten here yet. He’d like everything here, you thought to yourself. She had her hands out in front of her, linked together. You could see she was nervous. She had every right to be after what she had done to you.

“Hi,” you greeted her. Her head flicked up, her eyes meeting yours.

“Hi,” she swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I’m a woman of my word,” you said plainly, taking a seat in front of her. You kept your expression emotionless.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything,” she breathed out. “Words can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you.”

“You’re damn right,” you scoffed. “There is nothing you can say that is going to make up for two years of it, Jo. Nothing. I don’t know what your intentions were when you wanted to talk, but if you thought I was just going to forgive you and we’d be best friends again, then you are stupid.”

“Y/N, I’m not expecting your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know my side of it. I should have told you about it. I really should have, but I was in trouble,” she began. “I- I was running out of money about two years ago. My mom only left me a little bit of money, the rest had to go towards paying off her debts, and everything else. I needed a job, so I asked Ketch if he could get me a job somewhere. A waitress at the country club, anything! I was desperate. I had nothing. I was about to be kicked out of my apartment. He told me he had a job for me and to show up at his place at nine. I thought I was helping with a party or something. Turns out he was offering me money to sleep with Mick. So I did. I made a couple of grand for a couple of nights. I thought that was it. I had enough to keep my apartment, and I got the job on campus like I told you. Then he told me that he’d pay me more for a threesome. I figured the extra cash would help so I agreed. I didn’t know it was him until after the fact. He’s been paying me to keep quiet about it and to keep sleeping with him. He didn’t want to screw things up with you. He does love you, I want you to know that that part wasn’t made up. He was pissed and heartbroken when you didn’t show up for the wedding. I found out I was pregnant a few days after the wedding-”

“I’m sorry, but he didn’t love me if he was sleeping with you,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry that things turned out that way for you, I am. But I wish someone would have told me I was wasting my time on him. I could have been happy with someone else. I was going to marry him! Why didn’t you stop that? Why weren’t you my friend? Why was he more important than that?”

“You’re right. I realize that now. I’m nearly eight months pregnant with his baby; a baby he doesn’t want. I screwed up my life. I know he’s not going to stick around when I have her,” she admitted. “But I want you to know that he’s not over you. He’s convinced that he’s going to win you back. He’s just giving you space.”

“I’m with someone else now,” you shared. “Ketch is dead to me as far as I’m concerned.”

“Good for you. I hope this one treats you much better than he did. You deserve so much better than Ketch was to you. He controlled you too much. You look happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. You haven’t messed your life up like I have.”

“It’s not completely your fault,” you shrugged. “You didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“I had choices, I just made the wrong ones until I couldn’t get out of them,” she swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re okay after all of it. I’m glad nothing happened to you. You deserve a better life than what was given to you.”

“It took me a long time to be okay,” you admitted. “I - I wish you the best with your life, and your baby. Congratulations on the girl, by the way. I hope for your sake, he sticks around to help you. For once, he should pay for his mistakes.”

“Who knows with him,” she whispered. “His parents are being more than supportive. Makes up for him.”

“Good. I’m glad,” you nodded.

“I should let you go, get back to your boyfriend and your life. You’ve got groceries,” she reminded you. “Thank you for coming.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Good luck with everything.”

“Can - can I call you after she’s born?” she questioned.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Take care.”

You hopped back in your car, peeling out of the parking lot to head home. There was a part of you that felt really bad for her. It all started because she needed money. All because her mom died suddenly and she couldn’t handle things on her own. She made bad choices after bad choices and ended up in an even worse situation with a monster. You understood where she was coming from. You were happy you sat down with her and learned what you did. Ketch was an asshole, but then again you already knew that. It just sucked it took her this long to come forward. It didn’t matter to you at this point. You were over it.

You pulled into the driveway, finding Dean’s car still sitting in it’s usual spot. Was he home from work early today? It was rare for him to be home early. You managed to take all the bags inside in one go. The front door was already unlocked for you, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see your handsome boyfriend when you walked inside.

“Dean, I’m home,” you called out as you shut the door. Pure silence. Not a single sound from the house. You shrugged it off as you kicked your shoes off, taking the grocery bags to the kitchen.

You began unpacking them, putting everything on the counters before putting them in their respective places in the house. It looked like a lot more in the cart than it did when you had it on the kitchen counter.

“Hi,” his deep voice called out. You smiled, turning around to face him. Your face dropped when you saw him. His nose was red, his eyes a little puffy. He looked exhausted standing there in a green henley and pyjama pants.

“Hi handsome,” you cocked your head to the side. “No offense babe, but you look a little under the weather.”

“I caught a damn cold,” he pouted. Your heart melted at how adorable his pout was. He could get you in a lot of trouble with a face like that.

“Poor baby,” you frowned. “I can make you some soup if you want?”

“Would you mind? I feel like shit - no I feel worse than shit,” he admitted. “My nose is stuffy, my head is pounding. My throat is killing me. The worst part is that I can’t even kiss my girlfriend when she gets home from finishing her last exam.”

“Come kiss my cheek,” you smiled. “I’m not afraid of your germs.”

He slowly stepped over to you, a smile creeping up on his lips. You reached your arm out, your heart rate picking up as he grew closer, slipping into your hold. His lips pressed against your cheek, lingering a little longer than you anticipated.

“How did your final go?” he asked you, moving to sit on top of the counter.

“Aced it,” you grinned. “As you can see I went grocery shopping. Any kind of soup you want?”

“Can you make tomato rice?” he pleaded, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

“Anything for that face,” you beamed. “I want you to go into my bathroom, the drawer on the left. There is some dayquil in there that should help you feel a bit better. I’ll give you the nyquil before bed tonight.”

“Thank you,” he muttered. “I’ll take these with me.” He grabbed the two boxes of yours off the counter before heading to your room. You smiled as you watched him walk away.

You managed to get the rest of the groceries away without a problem. You felt bad for Dean. Having a cold was the worst and he sounded like he was suffering. You could only hope that the dayquil helped him, along with the soup you were making. You didn’t like seeing him sick.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice coming out raspy.

“Hmm?” you cocked your eyebrow, glancing over at him.

“I would help but-”

“Go lay down. I’ll bring your soup in for you in a little bit. I’ll hold you later, play with your hair the way you like it,” you assured him.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he muttered the best he could.

“Nah, that’s me,” you winked.

You pulled out the supplies you needed to make his tomato and rice soup. You couldn’t have been more thankful for the vegetables you picked up. You had everything you needed to make it. You just hoped it was good. You hoped it made him feel a million times better. You didn’t like seeing him sick like this. He looked miserable.

It took about an hour to get the soup done. It looked and smelled delicious. You couldn’t wait to try it for the first time. You placed two bowls on a tray you had tucked away in a cupboard, along with two glasses of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers.

You walked over to Dean, seeing him curled up on the couch with a blanket covering his body. He was exhausted. You just wanted to hold him until he felt better. He had what looked to be Snow Day, playing on the tv. Not that he was paying attention.

“Babe, time for some soup,” you whispered, nudging him awake. He let out a groan, shifting from his lying position just a little.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “tired.”

“I know,” you frowned. “I’ve got your soup, and some crackers. I hope this makes you feel a little better.”

“Me too,” he let out a dry laugh. “Thank you for making me this.”

“‘Course, boyfriend,” you giggled. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will,” he nodded, taking the spoon off the tray. The steam coming off the soup was still pretty strong. You took a spoonful, blowing on it before taking your first bite. The flavours hit your taste buds instantly. It was delicious. One of the nicest soups you had ever made. Dean looked like he was enjoying it. “This is delicious, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you beamed at him. “Fingers crossed this makes you feel better.”

“Just seeing you makes me feel better,” he shared with you.

“You’re such a sap,” you giggled. “I love that about you.”

“I gotta make up for not being able to kiss you for the next couple of days,” he shrugged.

“You’re cute,” you smiled softly. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he shrugged. “How was your day anyways?”

“Interesting,” you started. “I uh- I ran into Jo in the grocery store. She asked me to have lunch with her.”

“Did you end up going?” he questioned, taking another bite of his soup.

“Yeah, I did. We didn’t eat lunch or anything, but I heard what she had to say,” you began. “She told me about what happened between her and Ketch. How it all got started. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it at first. But I was kind of glad she told me. She was having money problems after her mom died, and Ketch offered her money to sleep with his friend. It ended up that he was paying her to sleep with him and to keep it quiet after that. She told me that he loves me and all that jazz. He’s apparently heartbroken that we’re over and he doesn’t want anything to do with her or their kid.”

“That really doesn’t surprise me all that much,” he admitted. “Did she apologize to you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “She did. But we’re never going to be friends like we were before. Or even acquaintances.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be either. I’m glad she apologized to you though. She owned you that much. It's a little sad it took her this long to do it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I told her that part of my life was over and I had moved on with someone pretty great.” you nudged him. You looked over at him, seeing the smile appear across his cheeks. You liked seeing him smile like that. You knew you did a good job of making him feel wanted and that was something he needed.

“I’m not that great,” he shrugged. “Better than Ketch in some ways-”

“Dean Winchester, one, don’t you dare compare yourself to someone like Ketch, ever! And second, you are the best person I know,” you argued.

“Y/N, I can’t give you what he surely could have. I’m not rich or have connections like he does-”

“And I’m not asking you to,” you assured him, letting out a breath. You glanced over at him, seeing the sad look in his eyes. That same sad look he wore for a little while when he moved in all those months ago. He had the same look he had from time to time when he didn’t feel so great. “Dean, that’s not really the problem is it?”

“I just- I’m having an off day, and I’m not sure I deserve you.”

“C’mere,” you muttered. He placed his half eaten bowl of soup on the table in front of the couch, you doing the same. There was no way you were letting him feel like this. He shifted closer to you and you opened your arms up for him to move into. He rested his head on your shoulder, melting into your hold. You pressed your lips against his heated forehead before resting your cheek on his head.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You know that,” you stated. “Ketch isn’t half the man you are. He may have more money than he needs, and connections to a lot of people. That’s what my mom wants. Not me. I don’t care how much you make, or what kind of job you have. I care about you. I care about the person you are, and the relationship we have. Nothing materialistic matters to me. Not in the same way it does to everyone else I grew up with. As far as I’m concerned, this is exactly where I want to be. You’re exactly who I want to be with. My best friend.”

“Me too,” he nodded.

“Good,” you smiled softly. “I’ll always be here for you. Whether it’s when you’re dying from sickness, or your head’s not okay. I’ll always be here to make sure you’re okay, Dean.”

“Goes the same the other way around,” he sniffled before clearing his raspy throat. “I love you, you know that?”

You swore, your heart was going to leap out of your chest. Dean just muttered those three words to you. He said them first. He had a fever of one hundred and something, and you knew he was high on cold medication, but he still said them. Your lip curled upwards, tugging him closer to you before you placed another kiss to the top of his head.

“I know,” you nodded. “I love you too.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice going a little higher than normal.

“Really,” you stated. “My poor sick boyfriend.”

“Is it okay that I said it?” he mumbled. “It’s not too fast?”

“Not too fast,” you whispered. “Thank you for saying them. Means a lot to me that you do.”

“Means a lot that you do too,” he said lowly. “I’m pretty sure I took nyquil.”

“I’m pretty sure you did too, babe,” you giggled. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

“Mhhh good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your responses and comments are what keep me sharing stories like this one!

584 notes · View notes

spookysanta · 4 years ago

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The TA. - one. (c.e, h.c.)

Summary: she just wants to make a good impression. clearly, she’s made more of an impression on the two of them.

Pairings: Professor!Chris Evans x Black!Reader, student!Henry Cavill x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: swearing

updates will be sporadic because it’s a wip, but here’s part one! enjoy! :)

UNEDITED

****

To Whom it May Concern:

Good morning. My name is Dr. Christopher R. Evans and I’ll be your supervising professor for section D346-0 of Chemistry class for the Fall semester. I’m sending you this e-mail to introduce myself as well as get to know you a bit before classes start next week. Would you be willing to meet me in my office (Franklin Hall, 3210) this Wednesday at around 3 p.m.? I’d like to go over the syllabus as well as your requirements as my TA.

Please let me know if that time works well for you.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Warm regards,

Dr. Christopher R. Evans, D. Sc.

(310) 555-3984

***

Professor Evans:

Good morning! It’s nice to hear from you. I was in the process of getting your contact information to introduce myself. Thank you for taking me on as your TA, also—I appreciate that you’re giving me a chance. I’ll avail myself on Wednesday to meet with you at 3 p.m., I don’t want to change your schedule on my behalf. I can also provide you with my class schedule if you’d like so that you have my availability when you need to meet with me.

I’m excited to be working with you this semester!.

Best,

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

***

“Hi, my name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Is Dr. Evans around?” She entered the lecture hall, approaching the podium where another professor was packing up her things. “I’m his new TA.”

“Yes, his office is through that door. Go in, make a left, and it should be the first door on your right.” The professor instructed, “He should be in there.”

“Okay. Thank you, ma’am!” she hurried across the room and pushed through the door, following the professor’s instructions and finding his classroom much easier than she had initially. She knocked on the door to his office. “Dr. Evans?”

“Come in.”

She opened the door slowly. She found him at his desk, typing on a computer. He paused for a moment, looking up toward the doorway with a small smile.

“Hi. You must be (Y/N).” he stood and crossed the small room stalking over to her and offering his hand for her to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Great to meet you as well, Dr. Evans.” She shook his hand eagerly. This was her first professional job, and well…it’s helpful to have him as her boss.

Mainly to look at, but that’s beside the point.

“Oh, please. You can call me Chris.” He waved her off politely. “It’s just you and I here.”

She cleared her throat. “Okay.”

He made his way back to his seat behind the desk. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair that sat on the opposite side of the desk.

She sat down tightly with her hands flattened under her thighs—she’s a picker.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head tightly. “Nothing.”

He noticed that her face read differently than her words were saying. She looked almost uncomfortable, unsettled. “Are you sure?”

“This is just my first TA job so I’m a bit nervous,” She was almost hesitant to tell him the truth. She rushed out, “hopefully that doesn’t compromise my position.”

“Not at all! In fact, I think this is one of the easier classes to TA for, but maybe I’m biased.” He chuckled. “So, with that said, let’s go over your requirements. Hopefully I can put your mind at ease, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled politely, trying to make herself relax but failing because Dr. Evans—Chris—was quite different that was she thought he would be. He was tall, built, and had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen.

She’d assumed that he would look like Ebenezer Scrooge from the way her friends said he ran his class. By their record, he was a strict guy—very unwavering with deadlines and course policies, sticks to his syllabus schedule, assigns a ton of work, and has an even stricter attendance policy.

But they also said he was nice, which was hard to come by with professors in this field. They could tell he was a good person deep down and liked what he taught but he was a hard ass.

And by her analyzation, that was true.

His desk was quite neat and polished; it smelled of air freshener in the room; there weren’t any papers scattered about—which she was thankful for, because she cannot work with people who were unorganized—and, most notably, there weren’t any kind of photos hanging up. It was hard for her to determine whether he was a bachelor, or a married father that just kept things private.

Not that it mattered…but she wanted to know.

“So,” he turned one of his monitors to face her so that she could see his screen. “here’s the syllabus. It seems like a lot, but I swear, it isn’t.” he chuckled.

She hummed in response, beginning to read the lengthy document in her head as he spoke.

“Basically, your job will be to help me grade quizzes, labs, exams, and other assignments. You’ll also be required to proctor exams; I have another TA, Henry—he’s a graduate student—that will come in on exam days and proctor with you.”

She thought for a moment. “So, if I may ask, what will you do?”

“Teach the class.”

“Well, I know that. I just meant…it seems like a lot for me to do, and I’ve heard about some professors on campus having their TAs run the class.”

“Oh! Definitely not. Look, you seem great, and I have a feeling we’d get on well, but there’s a specific way I want my material taught so that’s not something you’d have to worry about.” He reassured her, noticing her body begin to relax. “What I will say, is there is a lot of content in my class, but the major graded assignments are few and far between, if that makes you feel better.”

She cocked an eyebrow.

“The class is mostly lab-based. You’ll be grading lab prep work, mostly—then comes the occasional homework or quiz, and exams.”

“Oh, okay. That makes more sense.”

He nodded. “Good.”

He scrolled down further into the document, showing his class policies.

“Now, these, I can’t break on.” He sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m a strict guy.”

“What?” she replied incredulously. “No!”

He wanted to laugh. He could tell she was analyzing him, and she had to have heard something about him before the two of them met. “Well, it’s because a lot of the precautions are for the safety of us and the students.”

She scanned a random sentence on the page that read:

Students are required to be fully clothed on lab days—no t-shirts, ripped clothing, or closed-toed shoes.

10 points will be deducted for wearing clothing that does not meet the above dress requirement. More than one violation on the lab dress requirement will result in a deduction from the LAB grade.

Yikes, she thought, he’s not joking around.

She found it understandable nonetheless—she imagines it would be difficult to have a completely safe lab in a stuffy room while it’s still hot outside.

And she’s heard that a lot of the laboratories on his side of campus don’t have air conditioning, which was quite unfortunate this time of year.

“The dress policy is the most heavily enforced one.” He shrugged. “I can’t be held liable for students’ recklessness during labs.”

“Has the dress code been an issue previously?” she asked.

“Not for me, but I know it’s been one for the department, so I’m just tryin’ to keep my name off the “injury list”.”

She nodded in understanding.

“I think that’s pretty much it as far as the basics are concerned. I’ll send you a copy of my syllabus and calendar for the semester, as well as your contract.” He turned the monitor to face him again, typing quickly on his keyboard. “Oh! And I should send you Henry’s information, too.”

“Who’s Henry again?”

“Henry is a graduate TA. I’ve had him in my classes for a couple of years, and he’s a great student. I think he worked in the library over the summer, so you may know him.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, he’s a great person to know, not just for my class, but for your upper-level math and science classes.” He gushed. Clearly, he really liked having this “Henry” as an assistant.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Great. And if you have any questions, shoot me an e-mail or a text and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Alright.” She replied simply.

He stood, holding out his hand again. “I’m looking forward to working with you this semester, (Y/N).”

She took his hand, this time relishing in the softness of his skin and the firmness in his grip. “I am, too.”

Later that day, after she’d completed the last assignments for her summer math class, she checked her e-mail’s inbox and found two messages from Chris and another from Henry, the godsend of a grad student.

***

From: Dr. Christopher R. Evans, D. Sc.

Miss (Y/L/N)—

I hope this message finds you well.

Attached is my syllabus and class calendar, as well as your contract.

Please read through all of these. Sign the contract when you’re ready and e-mail it back to me at your earliest convenience.

Regards,

Chris

***

From: Dr. Christopher R. Evans, D. Sc

Miss (Y/L/N)—

I meant to send you Henry’s information as well:

Henry W. D. Cavill

Phone: 316-555-2015

E-mail: [email protected]

Please message him at your earliest convenience. Like I said, he’s a great person to know!

Regards,

Chris

She replied a quick “thank you” before continuing through her inbox.

***

From: Henry W. D. Cavill

Hi, (Y/N)! It’s nice to “meet” you, I’m Henry.

Chris has told me that you’re the new undergrad TA! That’s pretty impressive, honestly—you’re one of four undergraduate TAs in the entire Sciences department. Anyway, I just wanted to send you this e-mail to introduce myself and let you know that if you need anything, I’m always available. I worked in the school’s library over the summer so if you need me immediately, that’s usually where I spend my free time nowadays.

I’m excited to work with you this semester! Maybe we could grab coffee and get to know each other better before classes start next week? Let me know.

Hope to hear from you soon!

Best wishes,

Cav

“Cav?” she read aloud in disgust, “What the hell kind of a nickname is “Cav”?” She hoped that he didn’t expect her to call him that because that was stupid.

At any rate, she could tell that he was much more laid back than Chris, which she was bound to enjoy. As nice as Chris was, she could tell that he was a bit…uptight. Henry, on the other hand, seemed more laid back if she used “Cav” as a form of evidence.

She could tell that he was a bookworm, too, because no-one—no-one she knew, at least—stays in the library unless they had to, or just liked reading.

Clearly he was a different breed.

She opened a new message to send a quick reply to his.

To: Henry W.D. Cavill

Hi, Henry.

It’s nice to hear from you as well. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you!

I’m free tomorrow afternoon if you want to meet at The Bistro for coffee.

Let me know if that works for you.

Best,

(Y/N)

There. Sweet and simple.

Don’t be confused, either—she wanted this position. It would open some doors for her down the line, especially if she can get on Chris’ good side like Henry clearly has. She just hated formalities. The emails, the “talk to you soon! ”s, the “hope you’re well! ”s… it was too high-strung for her.

She is, though, determined to start everything on a good foot. So she’ll be polite, she’ll wish them well, whatever—she just wanted to ensure that her success as an undergrad student wouldn’t be hindered or jeopardized by her desire to be casual with who’s really her boss and co-worker.

The next day, she mustered up the courage to throw on clothes and meet Henry at The Bistro, a café in the main square of the campus. She decided to dress nice, not entirely sure who she was meeting and wanting to make a good impression. Because “Cav” seemed like a decent guy, but you never know.

Honestly, she wanted to cancel but she knew that wouldn’t look good.

She stepped through The Bistro’s doors, the cold air practically smacking her in the face. Normally she would despise the cold, especially on a day like this where it wasn’t too hot and not at all humid; but today, she was grateful for the cold air that enwrapped her frame that was dressed in a black blazer and matching slacks.

She sent a message to Henry letting her know that she was there and sat at a table by the window.

Then she waited.

Ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty.

After forty minutes passed, she gathered her tote, phone, and keys, and made her way to the front door.

Before she could get to the door, a figure bumped into her, her body colliding with his hard chest. “Oh, shit, sorry!” the mass of flesh exclaimed, “I’m running late for a meeting and I didn’t watch where I was going.”

Her eyes met his as she took a step back. He was tall. His long brown hair was brushed behind one ear, cheeks flushed and pale, brown eyes wide.

He was cute.

“Wait,” she replied, “are you Henry?”

“Yeah…so?”

“So?” she glared at him. “I’m (Y/N).”

His eyes widened even more, as if that were possible. “Oh! I’m so sorry I’m late. My car broke down and I ended up having to walk here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But listen, if you’re still free, I’d love to still talk with you.”

She didn’t have anywhere to be, so why not? “Sure.”

He let out a breath. “Thank you.”

The two of them sat down at the table she picked, him slugging his shoulder bag off his body and onto the floor next to him. He folded his hands on the table and looked at her, watching as she fumbled through her bag for her planner and a pen.

“So,” he started, “it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“You, too.” She replied, her eyes not looking up.

“I’m usually the only TA in Chris’ class, so it’s really cool to have someone else around. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to be the only one proctoring an exam in a class of three-hundred people.”

“Three-hundred people?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s less, but that’s the average. It’s full of freshmen, too.”

She finally found her planner and a pen in the depths of her bag. “Are freshmen bad?”

He shook his head, “Not really, they’re just…odd.” He shrugged. “Some of them want to learn, some don’t, and you can tell right away. The ones that want to learn don’t want help—it’s always the procrastinators, the slackers, the ones that don’t care that need you.”

“How is that odd?”

“It’s strange to me, honestly. I didn’t really care either way my freshman year. I wanted to learn but I didn’t care enough to actually try.”

“So what changed? Chris made you seem like you were some mythical being.”

He laughed. She’ll admit, she was lost in his smile for a second. The glint in his eyes and the crinkle in his nose made her smile. “A mythical being?” he repeated. “I’m far from mythical. I think he gushes about me because I take over his office hours for him most days.”

That made her laugh. “Well, he seems to be appreciative of having you around. Hopefully I can be helpful.”

“I’m sure you can be,” he waved her off, “he probably told you that his class wasn’t that bad, but he’s totally lying. My first year helping him was rough—too much shit to do, and not enough time for it to get done.”

That sounded more accurate compared to what Chris told her yesterday. “I figured.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a great professor, and an awesome mentor to have—but sometimes he downplays stuff. He’ll say it’s “no big deal”, and it’ll be like Armageddon for us.”

She nodded slowly. “Any advice for getting on his good side?”

He chuckled. “If he likes you, you’ll know. And if he likes you, he’ll help you out. He’s not at all unreasonable, either; so just tell him what’s up when you have a problem, or if you’re overwhelmed, and he’ll do what he can to help.”

“That’s not what I heard.” She mumbled.

“Well, his students from last year will say he’s a dick, but—and you can’t tell anyone I told you this—” he leaned in closer, whispering, “he went through a nasty divorce last fall.”

So he isn’t married.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. He wasn’t in the best place, but I’ll admit he’s eased up quite a bit so you should be fine.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Anything else you want to know?”

She thought for a moment. “Not really, no.”

He smiled again, “Alright. Well it was great talking with you, and I’m sorry again for being late.”

She shrugged, “Shit happens.”

“You’re exactly right. The meter maids are probably having a field day giving me tickets.” He stood from the table, putting his bag over his shoulder that was covered in a dark green jacket, brushing his hair behind his ears and away from his face.

She stood shortly after he did. “Good luck with that.”

“Oh, trust me, it wouldn’t be anything new for me to have a ticket by now. I’ve gotten five since May.”

Her eyes widened this time. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. The parking on campus is shit, you get in where you can. Open parking spaces are scarce, especially by Franklin Hall…so sometimes I park on the street.”

Street parking is decal only. By the number of tickets he’d obtained, she deduced that he most likely had no decal. “Hence all the tickets.” She finalized.

“Yeah.”

“Criminal.” She shook her head jokingly.

“Guilty as charged.” He held out his wrists to her as if she was putting him in handcuffs. “See you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Then he turned and left, moving quickly down the pavement.

—

Tags (dm to be removed): @lady-x-red @justtwhst @lokisbitch27 @boundtomyfate @cyberdoshee @liquorlaughslove @heroine-of-color

#The Ta #henry cavill x black reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black woman #henry cavill x black woman #the ta fic

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geralehane · 4 years ago

Photo

who are you wearing?

a concept: an old lady in an old shop selling old costumes for halloween. nothing out of ordinary. except this shop most certainly wasn’t there yesterday, and the lady keeps giggling to herself, and the costumes have a minor peculiarity to them. hint: they transform their wearers into a more real version of that costume. of course they do.

and of course, clarke and lexa have no idea.

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“I will never understand your obsession with Halloween,” is the first thing Lexa announces when Clarke walks inside their favorite coffee shop near their campus. “But what baffles me even more is the fact that despite your ridiculous obsession with it, you still don’t have a costume.”

“You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?”

Lexa’s green eyes widen with indignation. “That’s the whole reason you called me here,” she points out, and Clarke groans, plopping onto a chair next to her. This is a disaster.

“This is a disaster! I will never find a costume. Halloween is today. What do I do?”

“Again,” Lexa says. “We’ve been over this. I meet you here, we get coffee, we go costume-hunting. Clarke,” she searches blue eyes, her gaze concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Clarke sighs and blows blonde hair from her eyes, propping her cheek up with her hand. “Yeah,” she sighs distractedly. “More or less. This semester is kicking my ass. And I’m pretty sure I failed my psych midterm.”

“Well.” Lexa bends her head down a little so she can catch Clarke’s eyes. When she does, she gives her a small smile and gently pushes hot chocolate towards her, gaze softening when Clarke grumpily takes it and peeks under the cup lid. Her smile only grows when Clarke lights up at having found two marshmallows she was hoping for. “That explains you not having a costume this year.”

“Here you go with bringing that up again.”

“Come on, Clarke.” She looks up at the smile in Lexa’s voice. Green eyes watch her, adoring and warm, and she feels some of her bad mood evaporate. It’s hard to stay upset when you have someone look at you like that.

Too bad that someone only goes as far as simply looking. Clarke sighs again, this time for a whole other reason that, unbeknownst to Lexa, has nothing to do with Halloween and everything to do with her.

She was really looking forward to tonight. Ever since Lexa’s kissed her at the beginning of their sophomore year, she’s been mulling some things over. Things like her recent break-up with Finn and her level of readiness for new relationships.

(And also things like Lexa looking really hot in tank tops.)

Anyway, her thinking resulted in some interesting conclusions and revelations that at first she wasn’t really ready to share with Lexa. But over the course of these two months, she’s been slowly opening herself up to the possibility of accepting Lexa’s offer that the other girl wordlessly left at the table, Clarke’s for the taking. She only hopes it doesn’t have an expiration date.

She also really, really hopes it’s still there to begin with. Or else she’ll look all kinds of stupid kissing Lexa tonight.

Doesn’t matter, though. She’ll look stupid anyway. Because she doesn’t have a costume.

Clarke groans and lets her head fall on her folded arms on the table. She half-sits, half-lays there, unmoving, not phased in the slightest when Lexa starts to carefully poke at her.

“Clarke,” Lexa says again, fond exasperation coloring her voice. “We’ll find you a costume. It won’t be a very good costume, but it’ll be something.”

“Thanks,” Clarke deadpans into her arm. “You ever think about becoming a motivational speaker? Could be a decent source of income if the whole lawyer thing doesn’t work out.”

“Look,” Lexa’s hand on her arm makes her lift her eyes. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t have a costume either.”

“Not really. Now I just feel sorry for both of us.”

Lexa snorts. The sound is so uncharacteristically undignified, and it makes Clarke’s chest flood with warmth. A weird thing to have fuzzy tingles over, sure. But - Lexa’s only ever like this with her. No one else. To Clarke, that’s something to cherish. “Okay. Didn’t think it would come to this, but you leave me no choice.” She pauses, no doubt for a dramatic effect. “I will let you choose my costume this year.”

“Really?!” Clarke jumps up, eyes wide. “Are you serious? Wait, I forgot who I was talking to for a second. Of course you're serious.”

“You’re a riot today,” Lexa notes dryly. “I’m gonna be a robot, aren’t I?”

Clarke scoffs. “Please,” she says. “Give me a little more credit than that.”

“Why.” Lexa stares at Clarke through the mirror, and the incredulity of her gaze makes Clarke seriously question her intellectual ability.

“You didn’t have to put it on, you know.”

“I wanted to demonstrate what a bad idea this is.”

Clarke shrugs. “Mission failed,” she lets Lexa know. “I think you look adorable.”

Lexa huffs, folding her arms defensively. “It’s a raccoon onesie,” she points out.

“I know,” Clarke replies in kind, barely resisting from sticking her tongue out at her. “I chose it.”

“Clarke,” Lexa sighs, uncrossing her arms and tugging on a fluffy ear on her hood. “I can’t go in a raccoon onesie.”

Clarke thinks of torturing her just a little bit more, but then reconsiders. Lexa’s already doing a lot for her. Besides, she really does look incredibly cute in this. And, well, in general, but she keeps that thought to herself. For now. “Fine,” she concedes, letting her arms hang lifelessly at her sides. “I give up. I told you we won’t find any good costumes. I’ll just be what I always am at parties. Drunk Clarke.” At Lexa’s disapproving glance, she rolls her eyes. “What? It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Right.” Lexa walks back into the changing room, long fluffy tail trailing after her on the floor. Clarke resists against the urge to step on it and makes a mental note to come back for it later. She sits on a small bench and sighs, waiting for Lexa to change so they can get out of there. This is their fourth store, and so far, nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, per se; a lot of crap, that’s for sure.

Lexa emerges several minutes later, holding the onesie at an arm’s length and glaring at everything and nothing in particular. “We could always wear crappy costumes ironically,” she says. “Pretend we’re being subversive.”

“I don’t want to subvert Halloween,” Clarke protests, rising to her feet. Lexa offers her an elbow, and she takes it, tentatively curling her hand around her bicep. At least something good came out of this whole mess, she thinks. A day with Lexa, followed by a night of partying with Lexa.

She’s not sure she even cares about a stupid costume anymore. But Lexa’s being so attentive - even more so than usual - and she can’t help but milk it for what it’s worth. Hey, she never claimed to be a good person.

“Just ironically, then,” Lexa corrects herself, throwing the onesie over the nearest rack as she confidently leads the way out of the store and into the street. “Or go with some annoying couple’s costume or something.” She’s trying really hard to sound casual, Clarke can tell.

She can tell because Lexa’s failing miserably. And she’s pretty sure she’s about to fail as spectacularly.

“Oh,” she says, cursing inwardly when her voice comes out more high-pitched than usual. “I mean. Oh. I didn’t even think of that.”

Lexa’s face falls slightly, and Clarke just wants to punch herself. She hurries to do damage control. “Because I didn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want to do! Because - I mean - I didn’t want to, uh, to assume anything. Because of… stuff. Us stuff, I mean.” by the time she’s finished with her babble fest, her face feels hot. Lexa keeps silent through all of it, slowing down so that they are standing still when Clarke’s done making a complete fool of herself.

When it’s clear she’s finished talking, Lexa speaks up. “I suggested this precisely because of… us stuff.”

Clarke blinks. “Oh.” And, seriously, can she say something other than that?

Lexa’s studying her carefully, her expression unreadable save for her eyes, vibrant and soft. “Are you - is that okay?” she asks.

“Oh, Lexa,” Clarke breathes out, smiling. All tension is suddenly gone from her body, replaced with relief and excitement, buzzing through her veins. “It’s more than okay,” she murmurs, sliding her hand down to Lexa’s and taking it in her own. Lexa’s fingers automatically lace with her own, and she feels a sweet pang in her chest at that. “I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about… stuff.”

“Us stuff?” Lexa clarifies, smiling her small smile that Clarke really, really wants to kiss off her face. She swallows, willing herself to stay put. At least buy her dinner first, Griffin, she tells herself sternly. After what you’ve put her through, this is the least you can do.

(There... may have been some casual hook-ups between breaking up with Finn and realizing Grand Things about her relationship with Lexa that she doesn’t want to think about. If the sharp lock of Lexa’s jaw at a mere mention of them is any indication, she probably doesn’t want to think about them, either.)

So she takes a deep breath and smiles again, shyly. “Yes. Definitely us stuff.”

She wants to say something else, she knows she does. She has a speech prepared and everything - but Lexa’s eyes fall down to her lips, hooded and soft, and suddenly her mind is blank. And, really, don’t actions speak louder than words anyway?

She’s already leaning in and closing her eyes, but she’s met with nothing when she hears Lexa’s voice again, a little scratchier and deeper than usual. “I think I found just the place.”

Clarke’s eyes fly open. Well, that was fast. She’s not the type of girl to shy away from putting out on a first date, but - they haven’t even had that date yet.

(Would that really be a bad thing? They’ve known each other for a long time. A year is a long time, right?)

“The place?” she asks, confused.

Lexa’s looking somewhere over her shoulder as she nods, in the direction of her gaze. “I think that’s exactly what you want,” she says. “It closes in twenty minutes, though. We should hurry.”

Clarke turns around, following Lexa’s stare. What she finds has her nearly squealing. And she doesn’t squeal. Ever. “Lexa,” she breathes excitedly. “This is perfect.”

Further down the street, there is a small shop. It’s antique-looking; a little rugged and a little run-down. Its small store windows display a myriad of halloween-themed things, from skulls to witch hats and what Clarke assumes are possible spell ingredients. Above the old, wooden door, there is a neon sign that couldn’t possibly look more out of place.

‘Costumes for every soul’, it flashes ominously and invitingly, luring Clarke in.

“It… actually is,” Lexa mulles. “Very… Halloween-y. It’s like it’s straight out of a Tim Burton movie.”

Clarke’s already walking towards it, her hand firmly holding onto Lexa’s, and Lexa has no choice but to follow.

The inside is even better than the outside, in Clarke’s honest - and totally right - opinion. It’s dusty, old wood creaking and red brick walls uneven. It’s also more spacious than she originally gave it credit for. Lexa’s hand squeezes hers, and she squeezes back, looking around in complete awe.

She’d, like, actually live here.

“This is so cool,” she hears Lexa exhale next to her.

“I thought you didn’t like Halloween.”

“I can appreciate the aesthetics,” Lexa fires back, but, before they can settle into their comfortable banter, loud coughing behind them makes them jump and sharply turn around to face the counter.

They are greeted by the sight of an old lady in a pointy hat, looking at them with a suspicious squint. “Not stealing, are you?” she utters, and her eyes narrow even further.

Clarke shakes her head while Lexa breathes through her nose, indignant. “No, we’re not stealing anything,” she reassures the old lady who doesn’t look like she believes her. “We’re here to find a costume. For both us.”

The lady looks between them. Glances down at their joined hands, and Clarke bristles when her scowl deepens. “A couple’s costume?” she grunts, clearly displeased.

Clarke lifts her chin. “Yes,” she says defiantly, tightening her hand around Lexa’s. “A couple’s costume.”

She prepares herself for the inevitable backlash they are about to face, no doubt. She certainly doesn’t expect a wide smile to appear on the lady’s face, brightening her expression up.

She almost flinches when the woman clasps her hands together, looking positively giddy. “Well, dear,” she exclaims, “why didn’t you say so? No need to be shy in this shop, my sweet girl.” With an agility rarely possessed by people her age, the old lady walks out from behind the counter and hugs them by their shoulders, turning them around and leading them somewhere in the middle of the shop. Her dark-green robe trails after them on the ground. “I’ve just the thing for you, oh,” she leans in conspiratorially, grinning. “You’ll have a lot of fun tonight, my dear girl - a lot of fun!”

In hindsight, that should’ve been their cue to run away and never come back.

Of course, they stay put. “Okay,” Clarke says dubiously, blinking. “But we really just need a decent costume. Two.”

“Well, who d’you wanna be, darlin’?” she only now notices that the woman’s accent is drifting between extremes: Boston, british, southern drawl. Huh, she thinks to herself. She must have been an actress. Or wanted to be one.

“We, are,” Clarke glances at Lexa who’s watching the whole exchange with a small frown. “We’re not sure.”

“Well, that just will not do!” the woman gasps. “A serious matter, darlin’ - now would you like me to find something for ya or do you want to snoop around for a while?”

“We’ll look around,” Lexa finally speaks up, neutrally. “We won’t be long. Thank you.”

“But of course,” the woman’s smile widens even more, if that’s possible. “I shall leave you two to it. Grumpy little thang, that one - you take care of her, sweetheart,” she tells Clarke before turning sharply on her heels and disappearing between racks full of costumes.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here,” Lexa tries to move, but Clarke’s grip on her han becomes iron.

“Lexa,” she chuckles quietly. “Are you scared of that sweet old lady?”

“She’s not sweet, Clarke, she’s unsettling,” Lexa says in a serious tone.

Clarke only laughs harder. “I’m supposed to be the paranoid one, with the amount of horror movies I watch,” she teases Lexa. “Yet, here we are.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” Lexa tries weakly. But Clarke’s mind is already made up.

“Come on,” she tugs on her hand. The realization that they’ve been holding hands this entire time spreads pleasant hum through her body, and she eagerly welcomes it, running her thumb across the back of Lexa’s hand soothingly. “We promised we wouldn’t take long. Let’s find something cool.”

“So,” Lexa cocks her head to the side, looking Clarke up and down. “A quiet meltdown, an entire day, and five stores later, and you pick the cheesiest costume of all?”

Clarke finishes putting fake blood all over her mouth. “Wow,” she muses out loud. “You are a grumpy little thang.”

Lexa doesn’t even blink. “I am,” she says. “You already knew that.”

“Eh,” Clarke shrugs, readjusting the skirts of her dress. “I’m grumpier.”

Lexa can’t exactly argue, so she sighs and tugs on her black frock coat, critically surveying herself in Clarke’s mirror. “I don’t think I have enough blood on my shirt,” she comments. “I just look like a southern gentleman from the nineteenth century. Not a vampire.” She glances at Clarke again. “Are we really going as vampires?”

“Yup,” Clarke pops the ‘p’ when she answers. She’s almost finished with her make-up - it’s the darkest she’s ever wore it, and she can’t say she hates it. Dial it down a notch, and it could be a great look for dates at a bar.

Or private lapdances. They’ll figure it out. “Victorian vampires. You can’t go wrong with the classics.” Admittedly, she’s a little surprised with her own choice. But there was something about these costumes that hung in the back, looking brand new and perfectly tailored. The old lady practically squealed when she saw them wearing those, too.

The fact that she offered them fifty percent off only made her choice easier.

“There is classic, and there is cheesy,” Lexa notes thoughtfully, still looking at herself in the mirror. Oh, how Clarke gets her, She has trouble taking her eyes off Lexa, too. The frock coat accentuates her slim waist and regal posture. High pants show off her endlessly long legs, and a purposefully disheveled necktie around an open collar gives a lovely view of her slender neck.

Clarke comes up to her and fiddles with her tie some more before dipping her fingers in fake blood and dragging them down that beautiful neck, slowly, watching rich crimson color drip on the pristine white of Lexa’s shirt. And Lexa watches her.

“You do look great, you know,” she murmurs to her, lifting her hand to play with blonde locks. “Curls suit you.”

“They disarm people,” Clarke smirks, and if it’s just a touch wicked, Lexa doesn’t say anything. She’s really feeling this costume, okay? “I’m not really above using that to my advantage,” she says, dropping her voice an octave lower. She’s wearing flats, since she’s pretty sure she’ll constantly trip over her long dress in heels, and that gives Lexa a bigger height advantage than usual. Her shoes also have a small heel, which only serves to make her look taller than Clarke.

She thinks she’s okay with it.

“Spoken like a true Victorian vampire,” Lexa chuckles, her warm, minty breath hitting Clarke’s lips. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not really that cheesy.” She turns to look at them in the mirror, missing a slightly frustrated look that flashes through blue eyes.

‘Why won’t she just kiss me?’

(‘Is she waiting for a perfect moment, like I was?’)

“Yeah, well,” she voices instead, grabbing a wet wipe and cleaning the blood off her fingers. “With all the Batmans and Robins, we’ll definitely stand out.”

“You’re right,” Lexa gently takes her hand and places it on the inside of her bent elbow, and she smiles, leaning closer. “Now, I don’t know about you, dear,” Lexa drawls - or tries to - in her best British accent, “but I am positively hungry. Shall we show them how it’s done?”

“Yes, we shall,” Clarke chuckles, letting Lexa lead her out the door. “Tasteful mayhem, here we come.”

“And ruckus,” Lexa says. “Don’t forget ruckus.”

“I don’t think that’s the right word.”

“Whatever. I’m Victorian.”

“Boo!” Someone with a white sheet draped over them jumps from behind the door and screams out as soon as Clarke and Lexa walk in. Clarke screams back while Lexa drags a hand down her face.

“Raven, what the fuck?!”

Raven - and that’s exactly who it is, considering it’s her house they walked into - tugs the sheet off, grinning at them. “I totally got you, Woods,” she boasts, leaning on her good leg and lifting the cane to wave it in Lexa’s general direction. “Okay, this? Hot. You seeing anyone?”

“Only her sire and eternal lover,” Clarke says, and there is only a hint of joking in her tone. She gestures at herself, twirling so Raven can get a good look. “What do you say?”

Raven’s silent for a fraction of a second. “Hot,” she repeats, this time giving them both a once-over. “Alright, I just need to grab my jacket, and then we can go.” She turns, heading into the kitchen. “Blood kink’s definitely back on the list,” she mutters under her breath.

“What was that, Raven?”

“Nothing!”

Clarke shrugs. “See,” she says to Lexa who’s still shaking her head at Raven’s back. “Told you this is an awesome idea.”

“I’m already sold,” Lexa replies, smiling. “She’s right, you know.”

Clarke hums under her breath. “Right about what?” She’s really enjoying watching the tips of Lexa’s ears grow red.

“You are hot.”

The sound of gagging coming from their left makes them step away from each other - Clarke hasn’t even noticed when they got this close. “Get a room, eternal lover.”

“Get a costume,” Clarke shoots back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell me you’re going as your bedsheet.”

“Alright,” Raven shrugs, rolling the white sheet up and putting it under her arm. “I won’t.” At Clarke’s pointed stare, she scoffs. “Obviously not, Clarke. I’m a ghost! See?” She shakes the sheet in front of Clarke’s nose, laughing when she recoils, scowling.

“I can’t believe we stressed over our costumes so much and you’re going to put a sheet on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not my bedsheet. I bought it in this weird ass little shop downtown. Two bucks, baby!” Raven exclaims. “Whoa, easy there,” she says next, noticing Lexa flex her jaw muscles in irritation. “She’s all yours. Don’t mean no harm.”

“That’s a double negative.”

“Wow.” Raven gapes at her. “I’m wearing a sheet and I’m still cooler than both of you combined. Tonight’s gonna be so awesome!”

Tonight, in fact, does not turn out to be awesome at all. They don’t even make it to the party when something strange happens. And by strange, Clarke means some weird shit is going down.

At first, they feel dizzy. All three of them. Raven staggers first, almost losing her sheet. That’s what prompts her to tug it on. Clarke will never understand how her mind operates sometimes.

Lexa falters next, and Clarke follows immediately after, stopping and rubbing her forehead.

“Whoa,” Raven mumbles from under the sheet. “Headrush.”

“Yeah,” Lexa says. She goes to say something else, but words die in her throat when she stares over Raven’s shoulder who’s come to stand in front of them. “What the fuck?”

Clarke’s not sure what shakes her more - hearing Lexa swear or seeing what she sees next. Right here, in front of her very eyes, is the ugliest mob she’s ever seen. At first, she thinks it’s just a bunch of dudes wearing masks.

Until one of the dudes pins a screaming guy against a tree and bites his arm with his very real, very sharp, very inhuman teeth.

There were children here, on the street, trick-or-treating. Just now. Just a second ago. Where did they go?

Clarke hears a scream. It takes her awhile to realize it’s coming from her.

What the fuck, indeed.

“Come on,” she hears a familiar voice in her ear before she feels strong arms around her. “Let’s get back inside!”

Clarke can’t tear her eyes away from the scene before her. There’s so much blood. Actual blood. Someone runs up to help the poor guy; two men who wrestle the attacker and drag the victim away. So much blood. So much…

Blood…

Blood.

They barely make it back to Raven’s before they all collapse, breath caught from dull pain spreading brought their bodies starting at the center of their stomachs. Clarke briefly wonders if they are about to be sick from what they've witnessed, and then her mind goes blank.

When she rises back up, her finger lazily wiping at her mouth, everything is sharp and vivid and this sticky substance on her lips tastes heavenly.

Blood.

Lexa's eyes find hers, dark and bloodshot.

“Clarke.” Oh, how she missed that sound. Lexa's tongue curling around the edges of her name, ending with a soft click. She’s been deprived of it for a little over a century, and out of all tortures she had to endure in her lifetime, this has proved to be the worst one.

“My love,” she breathes, grasping the back of her neck, trailing her finger up her neck and gathering thick, fresh blood - she always was a messy eater, Clarke thinks with a blissful grin. “I found you.”

Behind them, Raven sits up, clutching her head and groaning. “What the…” she lifts her eyes that widen when they are greeted by the sight of her friends passionately making out right in her hallway.

But that shock is nothing compared to her glancing down and seeing what suspiciously looks like her own body lying lifelessly on the ground while she sits right in the middle of it. Like, right in the middle of it. As if she’s incorporeal, like an actual ghosts.

“What the fuck?!” seems like an appropriate phrase right about now.

She’s still staring at her own body, terrified, when she notices the house has grown silent, save for the sounds of mayhem outside. When she raises her eyes for a second time, she finds Clarke and Lexa studying her with rapt interest, identical smoldering gazes burning through her as Lexa presses her forehead to Clarke’s cheek, biting her lip at Clarke slowly dragging her nails across her jawline.

This is creepy and weirdly sexual. Normally, Raven would be all for that, but right now, with her seemingly dead body on the floor and two of her friends eyeing her like she’s meat on a stick, she’d much rather opt out of all of this.

“Come, darling,” Clarke says in what is actually a really good British accent. “Dinner is served.”

Since Raven is a fucking ghost now and Victorian vampires are apparently above drinking from the corpse, dinner party stops before it has a chance to begin. And there is no doubt in Raven’s mind that Clarke and Lexa are actual honest-to-god blood-drinking sun-hating cross-fearing weirdly-into-making-out-against-walls vampires.

The last part throws her off the most, because when they come back to their normal selves - and Raven can’t bear the thought of that not happening - knowing both of them, they are going to blame themselves and take forever to reconcile due to impressive emotional constipation on both ends. She’s surprised they even made it this far in the first place. Well. ‘Going to a Halloween party together’ this far. Not ‘about to have shameful and undoubtedly kinky sex on her couch’ this far. That was not a good far.

“Stop this!” she shouts, trying to haul Lexa off Clarke and helplessly watching as her arms pass right through her. “Lexa, you will regret this tomorrow, I’m telling you.”

Lexa growls. “I do not do regrets, little girl.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen yourself last Christmas.” Raven huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Too bad you don’t remember any of it.”

That’s the icing on top of this pile of shit that’s trying to pass as cake. Neither Clarke nor Lexa remember who they actually are. They’ve gone full-on MIstresses of the night or whatever.

And they are about to make the biggest mistake of their lives.

“Lexa, do not... Where’s your hand? Lexa, where’s your damn hand?! Oh my god - don’t bite her! Clarke, don’t you bite her back!”

Where are the Blakes when you need them?

Right on cue, her living room window shatters because a body comes hurling right through it, rolling over on the floor and springing to feet faster than lightning. “Civilians!” the overly excited body shouts in a deep voice, clutching an assault rifle in a confident grip. “We gotta get them to safety!”

“They were safe before you went all Universal Soldier on them, you moron,” a grumpy voice replies before the owner climbs in as well, mindful of the glass. “Raven’s going to kill you.”

“Who’s Raven?”

“She’s standing right in front of you - man, this is some dope shit you’re on,” Octavia informs her brother. The Blakes stare at Raven, one mildly apologetic and another with a blank look on his face.

“Great. Bellamy doesn’t remember anything, either, does he,” Raven says. Octavia shakes her head and walks up to her to give her a quick hug. Of course, she fails miserably. Her blue eyes widen with shock.

“Wha - how?! What the fuck’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Raven mumbles, taking a step back because seeing Octavia’s hand inside her chest is more than a little disturbing. “Let me guess. Bellamy is a soldier for Halloween.”

“Yeah, only he took it to a whole new level,” the last part is sneered at the boy as Octavia scowls. “He broke your goddamn window. Did you see that?”

“Was kinda hard not to. Okay, I have this insane theory that doesn’t make sense, only it’s the only thing that does. So here goes. I’m pretty sure we became our costumes. Like, half an hour ago. Bell’s a soldier,” she nods at Octavia’s brother who stands, unmoving, in a dark-green tank-top and military pants. “I, the idiot I am, went as a ghost,” she waves a hand over herself. “And our resident power couple went as vampires.” As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her eyes widen. “Oh shit. You’re - you guys are alive. Which means they can eat you.”

“Observant,” Clarke comments from the couch, her dress hiked up and half-unzipped, showing off stockings and pale shoulders. Damn, Lexa’s smooth. “I think I like this poor soul, may she never rest in peace.”

“That level of evil is completely unnecessary,” Raven mumbles.

Octavia whistles. “Her accent is actually really impressive.”

Raven doesn’t have time to think of a snappy reply, because Lexa chooses that moment to rise to her feet, eyes glinting with hunger and blood smeared over her neck and shirt. It’s not fake anymore. “Come, love,” she murmurs to Clarke, courteously extending her hand and helping her up. “Let’s feast. You will need all the strength for what I have planned for you tonight.”

“She’s talking about sex, right,” Octavia whispers to Raven.

“You don’t wanna know where Lexa’s hand was before you barged in. Also, I think you need to run. And fast.”

Lexa lets out a low, rumbling growl, her and Clarke slipping into their vampire faces. It’s downright terrifying - the way their foreheads grow bumps and their eyes burn a bright yellow, sharp teeth bared in a snarl. Octavia seems to think so, too, because she lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek. Raven makes a mental note to tease her about it tomorrow.

GIven that they make it out of here alive.

“Out of the way, lady,” Bellamy roars, rushing forward and standing between them and the vampires, his rifle ready. “The no-shooting order is still in place?” he asks, his eyes trained on Clarke and Lexa who are slowly advancing on them, looking amused.

“Don’t shoot!” Raven panics. “You may not remember it, but they are your friends. Well. Kind of.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bellamy states. Right before Lexa takes him by his neck and throws him into a wall.

“Holy shit!” his sister yelps. “She just threw him into a wall!”

“I know, I was there,” Raven yells back before focusing her eyes on Lexa’s face. Lexa’s terrifying, deformed face. “Lexa,” she tries. “Please, please listen to me. We’re your friends. You lost your memory, but you have to know it somewhere. Me, O, Clarke, even Bellamy, we’re all friends, and if you kill one of them, you will never forgive yourself. Ever.”

Lexa scoffs. “I have no idea who any of you are,” she says. “But I do know what I am.” she throws a quick glance over her shoulder where Clarke is watching her, eyes hooded and smirk lazy. “I am starving.”

“Lexa, please, no!” Raven screams when the vampire lunges at Octavia who ducks and falls to the floor. She watches, helplessly, as she rolls over and tries to fight Lexa off, clutching something in her hand. “Wait, O, you can’t kill her, either!”

“Look!” Octavia cries, thrusting something at Lexa’s face who recoils, caught off-guard. “Look! We’re not lying, just look!”

In her grip, knuckles white from pressure, is a photograph Finn took of all of them last summer. They are at the beach, smiling into the camera - everyone except Lexa who’s looking at Clarke with a soft smile, an arm draped over her shoulder. It must have been knocked off the phone stand when Lexa pushed Clarke to the couch.

“I don’t understand,” Lexa blinks, all earlier aggression gone as she stares at the photo, confused. Clarke joins her, looking over her shoulder and frowning prettily at what she sees. “This is me. And you. With-” she looks up at Raven, flabbergasted. “With them.”

“Slayer!” someone yells outside, and everyone looks out the window where a mismatched mob walks through the street, smashing car windows and mailboxes on their way, lead by a blonde man in a black duster. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Clarke’s eyes narrow. “Is that William-”

Bellamy swiftly knocking both of them out with a butt of his rifle to the temple is completely out of blue and therefore absolutely in line with the night’s theme. Raven’s not even that surprised. “I don’t hit women,” he says. “But desperate times-”

“Yeah, whatever, Rambo,” she sighs. “Let’s get them tied up and hope duct tape holds up against vampire strength.”

“I really am sorry,” Lexa repeats, rubbing her temple. “I don’t actually want to kill your sister. Or throw you into walls.”

“Well,” Clarke speaks up. “Actually.” When everyone’s eyes fall on her, she shrugs. “What? Not all the time. Only when they bring that fine Blake assholery to the table.”

“That sounded wrong on so many levels,” Raven notes, bringing another bag of frozen peas and offering it to Lexa who takes it gratefully, pressing it to her head.

“I’m sorry too,” Bell says, gesturing at Lexa’s hand that holds the peas. “That was so bizarre. LIke being in a dream, while aware of being in a dream.”

“A nightmare, more like it,” Clarke corrects him. “Not that it’s very uncommon here.”

“Is it too late to switch schools?” Lexa asks.

“Afraid so.”

They woke up tied to a pole in Raven’s basement, with Raven and the Blake siblings watching them in tense silence. Clarke was ready to snarl and snap their necks when the same wave of dizzy nausea hit them, and everyone but Octavia doubled over, groaning in pain. When Clarke came to it a second time, Raven was fiercely hugging O and squeezing a dazed Bellamy’s hand who had a small toy rifle in his other one.

Lexa was even more dazed, blinking at her owlishly with hands tied behind her back. “There’s no way that actually happened.”

Except it did.

Now, they are sitting in Raven’s living room after helping her clean up. Bell got a tiny cut on his finger when picking up glass, and Clarke’s never been more relieved to feel sick when a tiny droplet of blood slid down his palm before he wiped it away.

Fucking Sunnydale.

“Well,” Bell clears his throat, standing up. Octavia joins him. “We better get going. The frat is most likely in ruins right now.” He grabs the last cookie from the plate on his way out. “See you guys later.”

“We should probably go back to the dorms, too,” Lexa says. “I really want to change out of this costume.”

“Agreed,” Clarke shudders. “Hey," she says, realizing something. "How come Octavia stayed herself?"

"Oh, that's because she's the only one out of all of us who got her costume at a different shop," Raven replies.

Clarke nods. "Well, Halloween might very well be ruined forever.”

“Yeah, right,” Raven snorts. “Say it to my face a year from now.”

They exchange hugs with her when they leave, and Clarke doesn’t quite catch the words Raven whispers to Lexa, but, judging by Lexa’s faint blush, it’s not something she wants to hear, anyway.

They walk down the street in tense silence, and Clarke’s never thought she’d say this, but Lexa’s presence is heavy and uncomfortable. Halfway through the walk, she has enough.

“Lexa-”

“Clarke-” Apparently, Lexa has the same idea. They look at each other, frozen, before laughing quietly, in unison.

“You go,” Lexa says when they calm down, and Clarke nods.

“Okay.” she takes a deep breath. “Okay.” and then she kisses her.

Lexa’s lips are soft and warm and don’t taste like blood at all. Clarke lets it ground her, lets out a soft sigh and leans even closer, looping her arms around her neck and smiling when she feels Lexa’s hands on the small of her back, tentative and gentle.

It’s bizarre. Kissing Lexa after kissing Lexa. Thinking of Lexa, a girl she met a year ago, and thinking of Lexa, her creation, her love, the one she’s lost over a century ago. Yearning for her - starving for her while being fully aware that the past she has in her head simply does not exist.

But at the same time, it’s the most intense feeling she’s ever experienced, and it might be terrible, but she kind of doesn’t want it to end just yet.

Will these memories ever fade? Will they clash with the life they used to have, or will they entwine each other until it’s all they know?

“Clarke.” Lexa’s lips are red and kiss-bruised. and her shuddering breath sends a shiver down Clarke’s spine, pleasant and sharp. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Lexa,” she says, but Lexa shakes her head, silencing her.

“No, I’m… This is confusing,” she starts quietly. “But - I’m sorry, my love,” gentle fingers under her chin, a thumb smoothing over her jaw. Clarke leans into it, heart bleeding all over. “For waiting so long to find you.”

“So you still remember, too,” Clarke exhales. Lexa watches tears slide down her cheek, slowly and silently, from blue eyes that sparkle with pain and relief.

Great. Not only were she and Lexa forced into a weird modern soulmate tale, her narrative might slip into an annoying flowery kind every now and then.

“Perhaps we’ll forget soon. Perhaps not.” Green eyes are earnest and soft. “Either way, I don’t think I care.”

And that - that’s all Clarke really needs to hear. A confirmation that Lexa’s not about to run off to deal with these overwhelming feelings on her own. A confirmation that Lexa will stay there.

“But you still have to buy me dinner first before putting your hands in… places,” she notes, enjoying Lexa’s blush.

Weird modern soulmate tale doesn’t sound so bad, anyway.

Not bad at all.

Somewhere in the quiet of the night, the wind picks up a faint sound of giggling, carrying it above two girls softly kissing under moonlight.

#clexa #femslash #wlw fic #halloween #spooktober femslash

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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

A Winter Night: A ROTTMNT Holiday story

Rating:G

Word Count;2358

for: @snakeeyesdraws

Characters: Donnie, Leo, Kendra

pairings: [takes breath, pulls out sword] LISTEN

update; i accidentally uploaded the draft the first time ^^’ i fixed though this is the finished version

An overtly saturated neon sign of a Santa selling sandals catches him in the corner of his eye. He uses his forearm to protect his aching eyes as he passed the sign. When he passes the blinding neon of Santa, the turtle takes a deep breath, a soft mist escaping his mouth. Honestly, he is grateful the streets aren’t more crowded. But not for his slowly numbing hands. He stuffs his hands into his unlined pockets and moves forward. Grateful more than ever that he had updated Shelldon with a heating unit so he didn’t have to weigh himself down with a heavy coat. It was making the walk to Hueso’s a bit more tolerable. He’d have to remember to update his brothers’ gear to include a heating unit like his. Course knowing them they’d probably use it to heat up marshmallows in their pockets and that was a mess he was NOT going to clean up for-

He is so wrapped up in the nightmarish scenario of having to clean marshmallows out of circuitry when a loud shriek of anger followed by a trash can flying past his line of vision causes him to jump on one foot with a shriek of fear

“Stupid AIDEN!!”

It takes Donnie a moment, and another trash can flying by his vision to realize he is not the source of anger, or in danger. He blinks and peers down the alley before having to duck in time for another trashcan to get stomped in the middle with enough strength to crunch it in half before, in a mixture of amazement he blinks. “Kendra?”

In a feral rage Kendra stomps a trashcan nearly in half before swerving around and glaring at him snarling. Her thick purple hair twisted in half ragged tangles, her beret lay on the ground as though she had thrown it to the ground before deciding that wasn’t enough to help vent her rage. Her half-crazed eyes narrowed at him. “What do YOU want?!” she bites and for a moment Donnie wishes he hadn’t stopped, “Are you here to ruin my day again?! Wreck my plans?!”

“Um,” Don blames his lack of ability to come up with a snappy come back on his even more urgent need to survive the next five seconds, or at least not end up like that trashcan. ”Are you doing something that should be stopped?”

Kendra narrows her eyes at him. “NO.”

“Do you HAVE an evil plan that I should stop? Again?” With a snarl Don worries he might have said the wrong thing.

But then she lets out an angry sigh, “No, not now.”

“Um.” He really didn’t want to end up a Donnie shaped hole in the wall, “Then, no?”

Kendra narrows her eyes at him, Donnie could barely see the little puffs of steam burst out of her nose like a bull trying to figure out if he was a matador worth charging. But then she lets out an angry growl, ”Fine, go away then,” she says, crouching down and yanking the trash can back into a standing position kicking at it a few more times to try and un-dent it. Donnie glances back at the trash cans in the road and sighs. He pulled off his gloves, cursing the fact that he didn’t bring any extra rubber gloves, and pulls one of the trash cans off the street. Kendra glares up at him before eyeing the trashcan in confusion, “What do you want?”

“To not see cars hit trash cans? Is that supposed to be a hard question?” he asks, again berating himself when Kendra narrows her eyes at him, but lets him stand his trash can next to the one she had ‘undented’, she doesn’t thank him when he drags by the other one too. But to be honest he doesn’t really expect it. But he does finally notice that, even though she traded out her leggings for sweatpants, she’s lacking her purple dragons' jacket and is wearing a dark grey sweater and boots. All signs indicated she had not been planning on being outside in December and is using all the anger she had been trying out on the trash cans to not shiver, “Where are you going?”

“What’s it to you?” she demands.

Donnie raises his hands in mock surrender. “Honestly? I was just trying to help but if you’re going to keep acting like a jerk, I’ll-“ he wasn’t sure how he was going to finish that thought. ‘Walk away?’ ‘Blog about it angrily later?’ But it ended with someone shouting ‘heads up’ and something hard slamming into the back of his head, his vision exploding in bright colors and the breaking of a snowball contacting with his head. Off balance he finds his world spinning and himself on his knees, hands holding his head trying to make sense of the pain and his disorientation.

“Hey!” Kendra’s voice was far away, but that could be ‘cause she had stormed over to yell at the kids who had thrown the snow ball. “The hells your problem?! That was basically an ice ball you weebs.” Don could barely make out their mumbled sheepish apology. He pulls off his hat and touched the soaking bandana underneath. Any hope that it had just been snow went out the window when he drew his bloody fingers off his head.

“Holy-“ Sounds like Kendra was back, his vision was spinning so bad that he assumed the spinning purple mass by his side was her. “Hey how many fingers am I holding up?!” she said holding out her hand. He could barely make out her fingers but gave a weak, “Four?” with strength surprising for someone her size, she took his arm and lifted him to his feet, pulling his arm over her neck, “Come on there’s a hospital nearby-“

“NO,” he answers quickly.

“Are you kidding me you’re HEAD is BLEEDING.”

“And I'm a giant talking turtle which do you think will matter more to a hospital staff?!” He often wondered how Yokai managed in the city without access to a hospital. He had been meaning to ask Hueso about-. He blinks, there was no way he could let Kendra take him home. But he was already close to the pizza place “I have a place I can go. But you can’t go with me-“

“Again, your HEAD is BLEEDING,” she snaps. “I’ll take you where you need to go but I won't get any closer got it?” Donnie knew she wouldn’t take no for answer and only answered with a sigh and a nod. She pulls harder on the arm wraps over her neck and took more of his weight. Despite their height difference he barely touches the ground which only added more to the feeling of being disoriented.

“Thanks,” he muttered weakly.

“Don’t thank me til we get there.” Donnie struggles to keep his eyes open but his swirling vision forces him to keep his eyes closed, a hand slaps his face lightly. “Hey stay awake nerd.”

“Pot calling the kettle-“ Donnie bit off the end of his statement as he tried not to dry heave. He could feel Kendras frozen bare arms through his coat and feels even worse for being out in the first place. “H-Hold on,” he says, stiffening his legs up to drag her to a stop. He manages to pry her arm off him long enough to peel his coat off leaving him in his long sleeved dark pink Atomic Lass shirt. “You’re obviously cold.” As callous as he is sometimes, he finds it’s better to be honest than to dance around the subject, “Shelldon has a heating unit that’ll keep me warm.” Though it wouldn’t help his arms, he could handle a few blocks though. Thankfully his vision is returning to some extent, enough that he notices Kendra looking to his pack and for a moment Don struggles not to shift to put the pack out of her sight, “That’s Shelly right? Is he still mad at me for tricking him?”

“Oh definitely. He has a stack of crayon drawings dedicated to his revenge on you.” He feels the shoulders on his back tighten as though Shelldon was reprimanding him for revealing his secret plans.

Kendra lets off a small shrug “Yeah fair enough, I’d probably do the same thing” before smirking directionally at the pack, ”But for the record little buddy, blue prints are a much better way to plot out revenge.”

Don tries to grin before dizziness settles in again. Kendra must have noticed since she ducked under his arm. “Hold on nerd, keep talking to me.”

He manages a nod, mentally keeping track of their location. “Wh-what were you doing out here kicking trash cans?” he asked. “And who’s this Aiden guy who has you so mad? Not that it's any of my business, but I’m kinda hurt there’s someone out there you currently hate more than me,” he says with an added offended tone that makes her glare at him in confusion. ”I mean not to brag, but I sorta consider it a pride and joy to have an enemy worthy of my intelligence.”

Kendra narrows her eyes. “Please, he’s not worthy of my time,” she says through her teeth. “There’s this guy in the robotics club with us, Aiden. A loser who couldn’t tell a snickers from a soldering pen. There was a contest to submit the best blueprints, and who ever won would to be our project for the semester.”

“I’ve seen you build stuff on your own though. “

“That wasn’t the point,” Kendra lets out an angry huff, “I won, like I knew I was going to. But he got second place, I checked the points and he was twelve points away from wining. Twelve! The loser pretty boy who had his private tutor help him.”

“But you still won-“

“-He shouldn’t have gotten that close. I did all my work by myself. Didn’t ask for help, spent nights coding and drafting. I should have left him in the dust a broken swaddled nerd with broken dreams. But no. I made sure he knew how I felt about it, but the creep tattled on me. Freaking snowflake got freaked out because his blue prints ended up on his front porch on fire. Since when is that illegal.”

“I mean,” Don pauses, “I think always.”

“Anyway, I got kicked off the club and that’s why I'm out here.” She shrugs. “If my Dad or step mom saw me getting this mad then they’d make me do the ‘breathing exercises,’” she said with air quotations, “Being all ‘Kendra we’re worried about you’ ‘Kendra we love and support you we just don’t want to see you go down a bad path’ and ‘Kendra where do you keep getting access to all this fire!?’” Her frustrations forced her to kick out at a sign they passed but thankfully not hard enough to knock it over, “So as soon as I’m done helping you, I’m going to see my Mom. She’s the only one who gets me.”

Donnie blames his concussion on being so surprised Kendra had a mom but tried to keep it off his features. But judging by the quiet scoff from Kendra he hadn’t done a very good job, "How about you Greeny? Why did you come out here if you already had a concussion? Don’t pretend like you didn’t have one, I saw the bandages when I was checking your scalp. You already had a head injury before you got hit in the head.”

Figures his hat would blame him, and his own disorientation for forgetting that Kendra had checked his scalp. “It's complicated.”

“More complicated then plotting revenge on a spoiled white boy in a Vanilla Ice t-shirt?” she says in a tone that tells Donnie she’s trying to make a joke. And despite his best efforts not to, he snorts slightly, “No, I'll agree it’s not that complicated.” But it still feels weird to share with a certified enemy who once tried to steal the Spirit of Labour Day (don’t ask can’t explain). Thankfully she doesn’t rush him as he tries to collect his thoughts. “I got into an argument with my brother.” He still doesn’t want to let her in on too much information. “My brothers are all protective of each-other but he's’ protective in a way that makes me nuts. He thought it was too soon for me to go out with this whole situation,” he said gesturing to his head bandage, “And I disagreed. Except I didn’t really do it in the best way.”

“I think I know what that means,” Kendra says. “Did you say something bad?”

For a moment, it takes all of Don’s remaining mental energy to not think about Leo’s face, watching his concerned features fade away to one of hurt. So hurt in fact he hadn’t even called after Donnie when he stormed out. He lets out a sigh. “I did. I wish I had a reasonable excuse for it, but to be honest I don’t like feeling like I'm depending on people. I don’t like feeling like he’s always concerned about me. I especially don’t like him being right about it.”

“Sucks when it feels like you’re under-appreciated huh?”

“Yeah.” He could make out a familiar sandal store that housed Hueso’s alley. “We’re here,” he says.

Kendra looks around, and for a moment Donnie is concerned Kendra is going to insist on taking him ‘inside’ but she ducks from under shoulder. “You sure?” she asks, “I can take you further.”

“I’m good, thanks though.” He tries to give her a confident smile but his lips only twitch in response. She gives a half shrug before she starts pulling off his coat. “Keep it. You have a long way to walk and I still have Shelldon to keep me warm.”

“Thanks,” she says pulling the coat back on. “I’ll catch you later Greeny,” she says. She looks like she's’ about to walk off when she pauses. “But for the record, it still must be nice to have brothers who have your back.”

“It is.” Don nods. “And honestly Aiden sounds like a little bitch.”

For the first time since their strange encounter began Kendra put on a full smile. “Thanks,” she says before walking off.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Leo didn’t snore.

So when his phone went off amongst his makeshift ‘pillow floor’ in the living room he did not ‘snort’ awake. He made a strangled noise before sitting up. Patting his sweatpants and hoody pockets before diving into the mass of pillows. Breaching a moment later like a whale with his phone in his teeth. Hueso’s ID is flashing across his screen. With a scoff he answers. “For the last time BONE man I don’t work today-“

“First of all, that is NOT how you politely answer a phone,” Hueso starts with a snap of his teeth. “Second that’s not why I'm calling. Your brother is here with me.”

Leo blinks, he blames his previous hibernated state on why it took him so long to remember which brother had left the lair. “Donnie? Is he ok?” he said already going to his room and looking for his sword under his bed.

“He is alright, but it looks like he got hit on the head pretty hard-“

That’s all it takes for him to charge out of his room, lingering only long enough to grab the toolbox he used for a first aid kit, and grabbing his portal sword from the kitchen (vaguely remembering he had used it to cut some cheese for his peanut butter and cheese grilled sandwich earlier) and slicing the sword down to activate a portal to Hueso’s office. Without saying bye, he hangs his phone up and jumps through.

The aforementioned skeleton, who had been glaring at his phone as though offended Leo had hung up on him, gave a shriek as the turtle appears by his side. “BAH! Leo, I hate it when you-“

Leo immediately tuned him out when he saw Donnie laying on Hueso’s couch with an ice pack over his forehead, he hurried forward and knelt down. “You ok buddy?” he asks.

Donnie looks up at him from under the ice pack with a weak smile. “I don’t know, are you really uglier than the last time I saw you or is that my head talking?”

Leo couldn’t help but grin. “I thought brain injuries were supposed to make people nicer,” he says. He turns to the toolbox and starts going through the first aid supplies inside. “Thanks for letting him rest. In your office,” he tells Hueso as he sets aside a pen light and some new bandages.

“Why wouldn’t I? Out of your brothers he’s most definitely my favorite.”

“Wait you have a favorite?” Leo looks to him. “Then who's your least favorite?”

After a pause, Hueso gives a wide and strained grin. “I will leave you two to it. If you need me just call me,” he says before ducking out quickly.

It’s only then that Leo turns his barely contained worried energy on Donnie “What happened? Who did this? Do you have their address and sleep schedule-“

“Leo,” Don starts in a pained voice, “Please, my head feels like someone tried to split it with an ax. It was an accident. Some kids hit me in the head with a snow ball.“

Leo was about to start on another tirade of questions when he forced himself to take a deep breath, “Yeah, ok, I'm sorry,” he says. Also trying to ignore Donnie’s missing coat. He looks back to his supplies and pulls out a pen light. “I’m going to check your pupil dilation, but only if you're up for it.” He waits for Donnie to give a slight nod before he lifts the pen and carefully pushes the ice pack away from his eyes. Using his thumb to cover Don’s opposite eye without actually touching him, with a flash the pupil constricts and dilates as it should. He does the same process to the other “Well that’s good at least,” Leo says. “How’s your vision?”

“Spinning, but I think that’s from the pain.”

That would make sense. The red slider turtle rose to sit on the edge of the couch, carefully unwrapping Don’s scalp as gently as he can, checking his facial expression for any signs of increased pain before he lets out a sigh of relief. “It's just a surface bleed. It doesn’t look like the actual injury itself reopened.”

“That’s good,” Donnie says with a soft sigh. “You’re doing a good job.”

“I had a good teacher.” Leo made sure to give Donnie a soft smile that the turtle barely returns. “Let me just change the bandages and we’ll head home when you feel up for it. Maybe we can order some pizza; I've had a monster craving for anchovy and chocolate syrup pizza for days-“

“I was wrong.”

Leo blinks, pausing from unwrapping the new bandages with his hands. It takes him longer than he should to realize what Don’s apologizing for and when he does, he only returns to digging through his kit. “You were a little right,” Leo says quietly putting aside a bottle of alcohol, “I mean it's kinda right, right?? You're usually right-“

“No, Leo.” Donnie tries to sit up but fails to get up more than a few seconds before Leo’s grip on his arm forces him back down. “Leo I was wrong. I was angry, my head was killing me I would have said anything to hurt you. You don’t mess everything up-“

“Except I do?” Leo lets out a soft laugh. “I mean I do. Between the minotaur's pizza and Big Mama I'm surprised I get anything right-“

Don’s hand grabs his shoulders and before Leo can stop him, the soft-shell forces himself into a sitting position with pure grit alone (judging by the pain filled grimace on his face, “Would you listen to me?!” Donnie demands shaking him by the shoulders, “I shouldn’t have even said it but I would have said anything. I was angry at feeling so helpless and dependent. I was angry because you were right for trying to stop me from going out. I did need your help and I shouldn’t have been so difficult. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-“ his last sentence is interrupted with a sob that helps him notice the tears running down his face. Donnie lets out an aggravated huff as he presses the heel of his hands against his streaming eyes to help spare his dignity in some way.

He feels the couch shift as Leo shifts closer, wrapping his arms around him. “Ok, ok you were wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing Leo,“ Donnie manages to say from his brother’s shoulder. “I’m the one apologizing not you, idiot.”

“Alright, alright I apologize for apologizing. You were wrong I was right. Is that what you want to hear?” he asks. Don nods into his shoulder. Leo rests his cheek on Dons’ shoulder rubbing his shell for a few moments as Don’s erratic breathing finally starts to calm down.

After a few seconds Don lets out a small sigh, “Damn it, I was doing so good too. I can't even tell anymore if these are meltdowns or panic attacks.”

“As long as you don’t have to deal with them alone when you don’t want to, that’s all I care about.” Leo gives him a final squeeze before reaching up and taking Don’s shoulders, gently guiding him down to lay down again. “Ok buddy. I’m going to rewrap your head, and then I'm going to go order us some food and portal us home. You just relax ok?” He waits for Donnie to nod before Leo starts applying some alcohol to a cotton ball. “I’ll be honest though, I’m sorta surprised you made it here safely.”

Don for the first time since Leo entered Hueso’s office looks him with his tired blood shot eyes. A soft smile forming on his face as he relaxes. “Yeah,” he whispers. ”Me too.”

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #leo #donnie #kendra #christmas #gift #what a long year

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