#from the giant academic L that is my life

[snixx]

every so often I pause for a moment instead of barrelling through blindly following all my impulses so I have a new distraction to keep me occupied 24/7 so I don't have time to think and then I realize how fucking INSANE I act on an every day basis how the fuck do yall put up with me lmao

[ryutaria]

When it Rains...

Synopsis: There was scarcely anything that scared Al Haitham... and losing (Y/N) might be one of them...

Word Count: 3.5k+

Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, Student Al Haitham! x Student Raeder, sfw, burn out, verbal bullying, false accusations, stressful academic life, Akademiya setting,

A/N: This is my first post so please don't go hard on me..

The warm rays of the setting sun were splayed across the evening sky, casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings, a soft fading luminance evident in the environment. The winds remained soft as they passed through the Avidya forest and encircling the once still Divine Tree, tickling through their leaves in the process as they made their way through the open windows of the Akademiya. A certain calmness prevalent in the environment ... but not resonating with the state her mind chose to remain in...

Her footsteps echoed through the halls of the Akademiya, rushing past the cluster of few students who chose to remain late as she made her way to the House of Daena, struggling as she stumbled with the number of scrolls, files and a couple of hardbound books clutched against her chest, cradling in her fragile arms. Her eyes could see Iris in conversation with her sister and the moment she chose to pass by them - "Y/N!".... People didn't like to leave her alone, do they...

"What do you need Iris?" Her voice snapped: on the verge of breakdown as she struggled to remain civil for she didn't want to project her anger onto someone who wasn't even responsible for it. "Oh... It seems you're busy..."- disappointment laced her tone- "But it's alright! We can always talk tomorrow right" and there was her kind smile. And for the first time in her life (Y/N) felt grateful to all the Archons that she had befriended Iris. Her lips tried to imitate hers as she returned the expression albeit forcibly before scurrying past her. Tomorrow... As if she would even be able to see tomorrow...

(E/C) eyes watered a little as the doors of the greatest library in all of Teyvat came into her view, her breathing turning heavy - rushed even - as her steps picked up their pace. She slowly entered through the giant wooden doors, the quietness in the library which once seemed inviting now sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes scanned through the aisles before landing on her Professor, seated in one of the reserved tables for the teachers and other professionals. She sighed as she readjusted her books only for them to go tumbling down her arms as they broke the silence with a loud thud, attracting the attention of all the patrons inside and a few sneers and cold looks. Quickly squatting down, (Y/N) hurriedly picked her academic materials up, her files crumpling a little in the process - her completed assignments over which she had lost three days' worth of sleep. A stray tear droplet managed to fall upon the floor but she held her ground lest the dam of her bottled up tears broke through her tough façade.

The frustration was evident in her grip as she brushed off her robes before walking towards the Professor.

"Good evening Sir" she greeted politely standing at a respectable distance from him. He chose to ignore her presence at first, his attention remaining on the scroll he held in his hand while slowly sipping his tea. "Sir..." and his head turned to meet her eyes and a smile laced his features and she could tell it was all a pretense just like the other lecturers and higher ups. "I'm here to submit my thesis." and her file replaced the scroll in his hand.

His eyes scanned through her papers with the same scrutinizing gaze, eyebrows raising every few moments indicating he had found an error amongst her work. And then after with a deceitful smile he placed down the file on the table.

"Tsk tsk... Miss (L/N)" the Professor spoke, his torso twisting a little in his chair as he craned his neck to look at her directly in the eyes. "The ruins of Devantaka have already been studied thoroughly by the scholars here." and he dropped her carefully arranged papers to the floor, "And to think that Ley Lines hold a connection to the ruins.... that seems far-fetched."

"But Sir! The energy binding the ruins-"

"Enough of your hazy thoughts (L/N). I've more pressing matters to deal with~" and he got up from his chair with the forgotten scroll in his hands. "Get the thesis rewritten in a week." - the words she had been hearing for over a month. "And I don't want any blasphemous theories again or I might have to fail you... or might as well kick you out of my lecture" And his footsteps faded as he walked away.

(Y/N) could hear the snickers and sneers coming from the surrounding students who happened to be the audience of the interaction. Tears began to well up in her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. With shivering hands, she picked up her papers, her vision becoming blurry as she got to her feet. Yet she held her calm then, walking out of the library before anyone could spot her wiping her eyes on her sleeves. And yet a certain someone in a secluded corner of the library did notice the turmoil she had carefully concealed behind those (E/C) eyes.

Her thoughts were scattered all over the place, depressing thoughts and turmoiled emotions causing a havoc in her mind as she walked out of the Akademiya and onto the city streets.

The night felt inky and cold, dark clouds overcast over the skies and soon thick droplets of water descended from the skies. The residents hurried past her as they avoided the showers of rain but she welcomed them with teary eyes... for she needed something to drown her sorrows in. (Y/N) smiled at her own misery, even the Archons pitied her today. The weight of the world too heavy upon her shoulders as she inhaled sharply.

"Her thesis got rejected for the sixth time, did you know?"

"And to think that Iris told us she was the brightest in Vahumana. Ha! Now her true colors are showing!"

"I bet she'll be expelled this time for sure."

And (Y/N) quickly wiped her tears as she rushed through the rainy streets - her attempts to shield her files and books failing as she found a secluded corner in the streets, an overhanging tree giving her a little shade as she slowly sank down on her knees. She really deserved it all, didn't she? The warnings of her mother must be true...

"Why the Akademiya? You can simply help out your brother with business." And she had held her head high when she said she thrived off knowledge and wished to cultivate more of it. Her father had been her only support but when he too passed away due to Eleazor, the ridicules of her mother and brother became overbearing. In a haste to prove herself she had left home to rent a small apartment close by to the Akademiya. The loneliness was overbearing but she held on, hoping the future would be bright and yet here she was... Her dreams getting crushed under the heavy expectations and ridicules of the world around her and she wondered how long it would be this way...

His breathing became ragged as he rushed out of the Akademiya, his usual calm demeanor fading the moment he saw her leave the House of Daena. "Al Haitham!" and those words fell on deaf ears as Kaveh stared questioningly at him hurrying past the hallways. 'Strange' thought the blonde for he had never seen Al Haitham in such a rush. "It's her isn't it?" Tighnari added as Cyno hummed in approval - the trio staring at the ash-haired male fade away from their vision.

"I'm so annoyed you know. Why can't he just tell her?!" Kaveh said out loud, eyes narrowing as his fingers intertwined behind his head as he walked, Cyno and Tighnari following his pace. "It won't be Al Haitham if he just told her"And they couldn't agree more with Cyno.

And then after what felt like hours of searching - rain be damned - he found her huddled in a corner of the deserted street. He could see the way her eyes seemed lifeless. Her back resting against the overhanging tree's trunk as the books held loosely in her hands got drenched in the rain. (H/C) tresses stuck to her back as she stared lifelessly at the skies. His heart crumpled at the sight of her looking so... broken and empty...

Cautiously Al Haitham approached her, his steps resonating with those of a cat as he stood in front of her and yet she seemed so devoid of emotions, not even flinching as her eyes locked onto his. "Here to mock me again?" and his confidence faded as he kneeled to her level, "Archons no!" He tsked before carefully taking her hands in his larger ones. warmth spreading through her nimble fingers albeit the rain never stopped.

Al Haitham was a prodigy, hailed by the lectures and students alike, the 'Gem of Haravatat'. (Y/N) had first stumbled upon him at the library, turquoise eyes reading through the pages as he sat unbothered at a secluded table in the corner. "D'you mind if I join?" she had asked him and he had grunted in response without even sparing a glance at whoever had interrupted his peaceful afternoon. After an hour and a half when the intruder still remained seated, his patience started running thin. The ruffling of sheets and the scribbles of her quill becoming somewhat hard to ignore as his eyes finally lifted to take in her appearance and Archons, mesmerizing was an understatement.

There wasn't something necessarily captivating about her appearance but he felt drawn to her. A moth to a flame but only this moth... refused to be cauterized. He started noticing her everywhere... The Puspa Cafe where she regularly indulged in Padisarah pudding as she laughed with Iris and her younger sister, the secluded corridors of the Akademiya where she sneaked to sleep whenever she could find time. And he also knew for a fact that she didn't drink for she despised the smell of liquor.

"I can't Iris..." (Y/N) pleaded with her friend Iris at the tavern. "But it'll be so much fun!" added Janaki, another one of her classmates "And besides, Kunikuzushi is here too... I heard he's quite interested in you" and Al Haitham didn't know why his blood boiled at the mention of another man's name. "But you know I hate the smell of alcohol! Its... nauseating, please!"

"Leave her alone would you?" his voice had boomed startling his group of friends which included Kaveh, Tighnari and Cyno. And with a thankful look she had scurried away and out of the tavern, Al Haitham following after her. And that was when he had really talked with (Y/N).

Their meetings weren't necessarily frequent - the Akademiya kept them busy but subtle glances cast each other's way and knowing looks in the House of Daena were enough for the two. An year passed and they became close friends before everything fell apart.

"Did you hear? (Y/N) was suspended for plagiarism." And Al Haitham's ears perked up at the mention of her name.

"Really?"

"Yes! And to think that she would do that to Farahnaz! How evil! " And those words were the last he heard before he walked out of the library to confront (Y/N) only to find her in conversation with the sage of Vahumana himself. Tears pricked at her eyes as she pleaded with him to hear her cause before she was taken away by one of the matras as her screams echoed off the walls. He heard the Sage in conversation with the Mahamatra and his ears couldn't beleive what they heard. Farahnaz had carefully translated the ruin engravings and their energy sources found in the Devantaka. She had trusted (Y/N) to keep her findings safe for she had been suddenly taken ill only to find out that (Y/N) had tried to publish her work under her own name.

He felt betrayed and... yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away and followed after her only to find her sobbing profusely in an empty classroom.

"(Y/N)?" he had questioned cautiously, "You okay?" and she didn't reply. Therefore, he decided to enter inside only to meet a hysterically crying (Y/N) burying her face in his chest. He stayed unmoved, not being able to hold her in his arms as his voice echoed -

"Why did you do that?" the words had slipped out on their own as he met her wide-eyed teary gaze as she slowly lifted her head up to meet his eyes.

"A-Al Haitham, N-No... I...you didn't-" and that was all he ever heard before she pushed him away, backing away from him and out of his reach as she mouthed the last words she ever spoke to him then after as she left him alone in the empty classroom...

"You're all the same..."

Weeks later after fighting through it all on her own, it was discovered that (Y/N) was not the one at fault. Farahnaz had faked her illness before she had bribed a matra to publish those findings under (Y/N)'s name. And turns out that her findings weren't really authentic for after further investigation it was discovered that Farahnaz had indeed carried out Mosaic plagiarism of (Y/N)'s source materials and the scrolls she had kept under investigation. Her last words before expulsion being how she had really hated (Y/N) for outsmarting her and wished to any Archon who would hear her to bestow all the hardships in her life.

"I hope you rot" Farahnaz had spat as she was dragged away on the orders of the General Mahamatra along with the matra who had helped her out.

"I knew she was innocent" Cyno had reminded him yet again that day and he couldn't help but feel regret. How could he not for he had always valued logic and rationality above it all and yet he was... blindsided by mere rumors without diving in deep to uncover the truth. Even the minds of wisest men can get plagued by false rumors at times. After all no one can truly escape the frivolous human nature. Kaveh had cast him a disgusted look, still did as he asked him if he would ever apologize.

Now Al Haitham had tried to make amends with you, a failed attempt to mend the broken thread of friendship he had once held so close to his heart.

"Don't bother 'Haitham... I can't trust you yet again..." and there was no spite in your words, just emptiness and sorrow lacing them and it shattered his peace of mind to see you like this. "I can't face you anymore... not when you're the person I trusted the most..." and she had turned her back to him before mouthing ever so softly "Not when you're the person I loved the most..." and she walked away and out of the House of Daena... not sparing him the look over her shoulders she always did, the last of her words whispered for only his ears to hear "Not when... you're the person who hurt me the most" and his eyes widened with his bleeding heart. She walked out of his sight, disappearing in the crowd of knowledge that was the Akademiya... and he felt (Y/N) might just have crushed him under those delicate steps.

Rationality and logic had provided him the answers to all the questions all this while... And yet his mind refused to accept the fact that he had been the one who had blinded by mere talks of the streets. But then again, the most rational of men at times have been a prey to humane frivolity and reckless thoughts.

And from then onwards Al Haitham swore to protect (Y/N) from all the evils of the world... even if it meant he had to work in the shadows... even when it meant staying away from her for he didn't want to break her heart anymore. However, seeing her in this frenzied state of weighing depression and anxiety broke his heart as if … he had failed to protect her from the demons yet again...

After the upliftment of (Y/N)'s suspension and the restoration of her title as an honorary student of the Akademiya, the rumors had still refused to subside. For three long months are enough for the development and brewing of all sorts of research and modifications to the original case.

"Look it's (Y/N). She does look smug for someone who was in suspension" a random Kshahrewar junior sneered as his peers laughed along with him.

Her footsteps increased their pace as she clutched her books further to her chest, walking to her morning class in a frenzied state. Little did she know, she would be greeted by her peers much harshly.

"Oh look who it is! (Y/N)(L/N)! Here to steal someone else's report?" Nima taunted, another friend of Farahnaz who refused to believe she was innocent.

"Oh please Nima, will you shut up?" said Iris as she glared at the brunette with a malicious look in her eyes. But the girl didn't seem to listen."Get lost before I cut off that tongue. That'll shut you up, yeah?" and the class felt silent when Kunikuzushi spoke up, his voice sending chills down Nima's spine, albeit the whispering never stopped.

"Be careful Kuni. You might be her next victim!"

"You sick little-" but (Y/N) was quick to grab Iris's arm before the venom spewed out. 'It's not worth it' she had said as she guided them to an empty table.

(Y/N) and Iris sat side by side awaiting their professor and she found solace in her only friend. Iris had helped her out with most of the reports and case studies in order to gather evidences against Farahnaz and she had been surprised when Kuni had volunteered to do so too. She was grateful to both of them in so many ways but the weight of the world around her seemed too heavy and Al Haitham seemed too far away... having had left a scar on her chest where her heart belonged, broken yet beating...

She would often sneak glances of him in the House of Daena or in the streets of Sumeru, quick to look away before his turquoise could meet her (E/C). Too broken to reach out... too hurt to let go... But the little things she missed out were filled in by his presence. He still wondered how she failed to notice that he was always around her... looking out for her but never directly and he wondered if she chose to ignore her presence. Nonetheless he was thankful for she would have been more hurt if he still reached out... or so was what the ever rational Al Haitham thought.

He had been observing her conversations with the Professor for a fair few days now. How he had always disregarded her opinions made his blood boil yet he was helpless right then for he couldn't really directly step in when the higher officials and scholars were involved.

"It all seems very vague you know... Not even close to the point" he had laughed as he thrusted the folder in her arms.

"But Sir, here me out! The recent develop-"

"Redone and submitted on my desk. Coming Monday" and again she was left frustrated and with tears.

She longed for someone to help her out and her heart would always call out for a certain ashen-haired male yet her mind would remind her how effortlessly he had broken her. She couldn't ask Iris for she was too busy with her own thesis and Kuni had gone to explore the Avidya Forests for a few days. She felt alone and lifeless and all she wanted was to break down until she heard someone say -

"It'll be okay (Y/N)..." his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her close to him. And she wailed in his arms, too weak and hurt to push him away as she gave into the instincts of her heart.

"I'll make it all better, I promise" he kept whispered soothing words in her ears as his arms wrapped around hers as if attempting to shield her from all the pain, worries, turmoil and miseries the world had been putting her through. And he regretted that he had been the one who had added to them the most.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered when he felt her breathing calming down, the shiver in her shoulders slowing as she attempted to speak...

"D-Don't leave m-me...p-please" choked words whispered through trembling lips and he embraced her even tighter. Whispers of 'I'm sorry' and 'Never leave you again' echoing in the showers of droplets as they remained in each other's embrace for quite a while...

"Let's get you home (Y/N)" he said but his words fell upon deaf ears. On further coaxing he realized that she had fallen asleep in his embrace, unbothered by the rain as exhaustion took over her body. His heart hurt as he noticed the dark circles and chapped lips. Therefore, he took it upon himself to keep her safe and comforted.

His warm coat was shed off his shoulder, coming around her small frame to wrap her up in his warmth. "Hai...tham... don't go" she whispered in her sleep and his heart skipped a beat yet again.

"Never again (Y/N)" he promised, an oath he was committed to never break until his last breath and he slowly placed a fleeting kiss upon her forehead.

Lifting her up in his arms he made his way to his own home, his coat having had been wrapped around her sleeping form in an attempt to provide warmth as he walked down the city streets, ignoring the whispers when he neared his home for Al Haitham despised idle chatters with a sheer passion after a certain incident almost wrecked his once peaceful world.

However, with (Y/N) in his arms and his embrace he felt he could be at peace again.

Taglist: @teapartyspilled

[lenaariewrld]

C.30 — settled in

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

After getting through customs– which took considerably shorter than you would’ve thought thanks to Diluc’s help –and retrieving your luggage, you officially found yourself on break. You followed dutifully behind Diluc as he led the way towards the front where a family car would be waiting to pick the two of you up. Despite being wealthy, and not batting an eye at the five figure cost of tickets and housing he’s got, him and his family are still pretty humble. He pushes a few of your suitcases in front of his own while you carry the smaller bags.

You try to relax, to listen to the calming music in your headphones, and take in the environment of the airport. The air is crisp with a chill, and there’s a thin layer of snow piled in corners or caught on the edge of roofs. It’s cute. The whole way to the car, though, you keep getting distracted. Your head turns this way and that as your eyes play tricks on you, catching glimpses of Childe. Or you think you do. You realise it’s just a stranger with orange hair or a man wearing familiar clothes but sporting unfamiliar features.

With another shake of your head, you keep your eyes squarely on Diluc’s back, ducking into the car after helping him load up the suitcases. “You okay?” He asks quietly as he settles into the backseat beside you. You rest your head on his shoulder. His coat is soft and his body is warm.

You both get to Diluc’s home shortly after. “Y/n!” Diluc’s father is greeting you as soon as you step onto the front patio, a gracious smile on his lips. His crow’s feet dive deeper into his features as he approaches his literal and figurative children with open arms. He pulls you into a warm hug. “My, you’ve gotten taller since last year,” He smooths your hair away from your face.

“I’m just wearing chunky shoes, I think,” You excuse, laughing when he pulls a ‘that doesn’t sound right’ type of expression. “It’s good to see you too,” You tell him as you hug him back. Once you step back and let Diluc greet his father, you take in the giant mansion they claim as their home. Two floors of magnificent dark oak wood and hundreds of acres of vineyard (ones currently closed for the season) stretched behind and beside it.

“Don’t let me keep you two, settle in,” Crepus says to you both before departing inside, urging you both to join him for dinner. You agree heartily, pulling your bags from the backseat. Adelinde, the maid, helps you and Lucky finish trudging everything inside and to your designated rooms.

Your heart warms as Adelinde opens to door to one of the spare bedrooms, the same one you’ve always stayed in, and find it decorated with the things you’d left or moved to the way you like them. It’s touching that they converted it into ‘your’ room. Even if it wasn’t always yours, it is now, at least in their eyes.

You put your things away and hang up your coat and scarf, looking around the room. The spacious bed is soft, with a thick duvet in your favorite color, a thin pattern of flowers crocheted into the top. The nightstand holds a phone charger, lamp, and a small cup for you to put your jewelry away before you head to bed. A bookcase is pushed on the left wall of the room, right between two windows that look out over the vineyards. Other pieces of furniture are scattered to the most convenient places for you, like a wardrobe, a desk, a vanity, and a shoe rack. Your hand drags weightlessly against the end of the bed.

You remember your first time sleeping in this house. When you were just twelve years old. It was your first spat with your parents, and your mother had locked you out of the house. Diluc was the only person you knew besides Lumine, but she was never available past 10pm. So you called him and within the hour, you were in his home and curled up in his bed with him, the two of you in matching pajamas while he read a book out loud to ease you to sleep.

A lot had changed since then. And yet so much had stayed the same too.

With your reminiscing over, you take a deep breath and exit the room, heading for the giant main living room. You lounge around the fancy house, soaking in the peacefulness and warmth of the home. A fire roars in the hearth, after Adelinde helped you light it. You scroll on your phone mindlessly, reading twitter threads and tiktoks that make you giggle stupidly. It eases your mind, gives you peace, and helps you forget the sadness of your ‘real’ life.

A couple more hours pass, and you find yourself binging a cringy TV drama while you lounge on a loveseat, curled up with a blanket. Your phone goes off with a soft twinkling chime, and your attention is town from the needlessly over-the-top acting in the show. You check it to see Cyno had texted you.

With a sigh, you put your phone away and sink back onto the couch, burying yourself in the fluffy blanket draped over your waist. Your hurt didn’t feel as visceral now. It wasn’t like a clawing monster trying to escape out of you, racking your body with sobs and making your chest ache. It didn’t feel like a new crack formed and leaked whenever you thought of Childe, or were reminded of him. You just felt… blank. Unsure.

Diluc knocks on the doorway, and you look up, realising you hadn’t even realised the show was still paused. You were too deep in your head still. “Enjoying the fire?” He asks, glancing briefly at the flames flickering in the stone hearth. You close your laptop and sigh.

“Yeah, it’s relaxing,” You tell him with a soft smile, forcing it a little. You move your legs out of the way and pat the cushion beside, wordlessly asking him to join you. He sits, grunting as he does like an old man. “What’cha got there?” You peek over his shoulder at the book tucked under his elbow.

He shows you the cover, a copy of Romeo and Juliet that you recognise right in front of you. It was the first gift you ever gave the man, and it was a book he reread almost everytime you two came back to visit.

You smile, tucking your computer away and leaning into the back of the sofa. “Read it to me,” You tell him, though it still comes out as a half-question. Diluc smiles fondly, shaking his head as if frustrated by your demands, and cracks open the book.

The both of you relax before doing anything else, taking in the rest of the evening with the book or the last few episodes of the season you were watching. You knew before long though, that Diluc and his father would convince you to go into town with them. It was tradition. The first night you always went shopping for things to cook together, and made a meal all by yourselves, occasionally paired with glasses of wine (you remember being fifteen and asking for a glass yourself the first time, and you remember the way Crepus had chuckled fondly at your rosy cheeks and switched out your glass for grape juice soon after).

You didn’t mind the tradition, and it made your heart full. All you had to worry about for the rest of this break was being home. Being comfortable, and picking yourself back up when you came back from it all..

———

A/Ns: BWAAA im so sorry this update took forever <//3 i promise a double update today, but unfortunately i will have to slow updates. i have to ✨ move✨, so trying to do that on top of my job makes it hard to keep up these updates. I promise i'm not going on a hiatus or anything though !! as usualy tho; likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to get ur water intake today lovelies

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain @kazumiku @hanilessa @nrviine @wren-art @state-of-grac3 @definitely-not-leena @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @tikitsune @hwngti @trulylee @basicsofdying @starriylover

[aidanyk]

I think a key contributor to the concept of “value” in my memories is the idea of scarcity, specifically how present something is in nature. I’ve thought about my own life - through my years of academics and music and hobbies and struggles and drama and stress - and realize that my core memories are products of events that I never expected to happen… ideas, thoughts, feelings, and effects that I didn’t expect to have the impact on me as they did. These moments of my life have been valuable, have shaped my personality, quirks, and values, and have been the moments that I still look back upon on nights like these… at 11:33 pm on a Thursday evening. And - as stated above - a common theme I’ve found is the common idea of scarcity… the short, fleeting supply of memories for which my character is built upon.

In my economics class, we’ve defined scarcity as essentially a lack of something - a short supply of a good attempting to meet the infinite demand of consumers around it. And thinking back to my own life, every core memory of mine has been one and done events: they’ve been random fever-dream like recollections in the back of my head, itching at my skull to be pulled apart and explored.

I remember fragments of these events throughout the years. A giant pancake shared between my family and I at the age of three at a random food cart somewhere in California. A tall tower of Christmas presents, presented to me in between the yells and foreign conversations of my old Chinese relatives. A walk with someone I used to know, in the middle of the snowy weather freshman year. A final calculus test, where I studied for over a week in order to secure a grade that didn’t matter in the long run. These events happened so long ago and so sparingly I barely remember the details of them - one sentence descriptions are difficult enough.

Yet what’s always stuck with me were not the specifics of every single moment, but the feelings they’ve invoked in me. The way I think back to moments with my family so fondly, remembering the pure euphoria I felt opening my pile of dollar store candy and clothes from my relatives. The way in which I now watch people’s dynamics in conversation, looking to see how people talk, feel, and think. The way in which l now walk alone, spending hours pondering about what to text people and what I would even say to some. These moments of my past are scarce. They don’t appear very often, and often disappear from my mind right as they appear. Yet they’re always weaved implicitly into my thoughts, acting as a roadmap in which I follow the path my heart and head create.

One memory in particular I still remember after all these years was a movie trailer I watched for a movie I don’t know of a movie I can’t remember the name of. I remember seeing vivid colors, dialogue that was beautiful. If I’m being honest, I’m frustrated, hating myself for not remembering the simple title of this story I’ve never seen. I don’t know the plot of it. I don’t know the characters. I don’t even really get the language. I barely remember any of it. But I remember the music. I remember the vivid colors and dialogue and score and theme that rang right from my old Samsung tv to my heart. And every now and then (like right now) I’ll remember it, and it evokes the same feelings of yearning and sadness all over again as the first time I watched it. You could call that W marketing.

I watched a tiktok today from American baron, who discussed the idea of things having value from only happening once. He discussed the idea of how living two lives would be boring, how one life of teenage years and careers and college and love and family and jobs is enough for one human being. He stated how one lifetime is more than enough. And although I fear death very much, I think I understand what he’s saying.

We’re human beings - individuals with complex thoughts, emotions, and feelings. And these memories in our lives that we find so valuable are the things that we hold so dearly to our chest… people and events and memories that we grasp onto for a fleeting moment, holding them close to our chest and pushing them close to our heart in an effort to never forget them. Yet these moments happen in this lifetime sparingly. That’s what makes them special. I don’t watch randomly emotional movie trailers every day or relive my old Christmas parties before Covid-19 or go on walks with my old friends anymore. Yet this rarity, this scarcity is what makes these moments and memories so special. It’s remembering them at 12:15 am on a Friday morning. It’s remembering the moments and friendships I’ve built over the past few years that have allowed me security in my social circle. It’s thinking about what I would do if I were to relive the 16 years of my life that had already happened, and it’s knowing that I only live once, and really only should live once. Why live life if it’s not full of scarce moments and resources? I guess that’s an oxymoron actually…

Anyways,

Gn :)

None of this shit makes sense but y’all are reading it anyways so

[drawlfoy]

detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no not really

summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.

warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does

a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words

word count: 11.6k

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

happy reading y’all

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

~ 

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy. 

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

~

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two. 

“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”

The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him. 

“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too cocky, now.”

The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers. 

“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.

“Oh shi--Hermione!”

Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door. 

“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.

“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”

“I don’t understa--”

“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”

He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”

Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”

Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.

“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”

“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”

Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.

“You’re not going back to the party?”

“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”

With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.

But the walk was creepy.

There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time. 

“Who’s there?”

The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.

The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.

“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.

“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled. 

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”

“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”

“But why? This is my spot!”

“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”

Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her. 

Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.

“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks. 

“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”

“And it would be even quieter if you left.”

“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.

“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth. 

“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”

“Please leave.”

On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile. 

Task 1? Technically done.

~ 

The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable. 

Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation. 

“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.

“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”

Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.

Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.

Why was this castle so dark?

A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her. 

Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?

She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”

“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”

She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.

“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”

McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”

“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”

“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”

“How about neutral terms?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”

“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”

He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”

“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.

He stared blankly at her.

“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”

“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N. 

“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”

“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone. 

They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.

On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys. 

On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was. 

“What is it?” 

Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”

“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back. 

“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.

“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”

He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”

“What?”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“Because I want to.” She beamed.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want…?” She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”

“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs. 

He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”

“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”

“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”

“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”

Ouch.

She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??” 

“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”

Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her. 

Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.

When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on. 

“Y/L/N?” 

Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.

“Wait!”

She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.

~

“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”

Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”

“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”

“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”

“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”

“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match. 

After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms. 

“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”

“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”

“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.

The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made. 

“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”

“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”

Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”

“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”

“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her. 

Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?

Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.

“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled. 

She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.

“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. 

“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”

“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”

He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,

“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.” 

“Why?” 

“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.” 

“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”

“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”

“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate. 

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”

He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”

“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin. 

“Deal.”

Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”

Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.

“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”

“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”

“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”

“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”

Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”

“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.” 

Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”

“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”

“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”

That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”

“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”

“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”

After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest. 

Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood. 

Narcissistic snot.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own. 

She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him. 

She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost. 

~ 

When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.

“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”

“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.

“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”

He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”

“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”

“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”

“Malfoy!” 

His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”

“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”

She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.

He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”

She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”

“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.

Y/N smirked and sent him a wink. 

“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”

“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia. 

She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.

“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed. 

“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.

“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”

He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green. 

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked. 

He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”

“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused. 

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”

“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.

“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.

“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face. 

“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before? 

But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”

“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder. 

He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”

“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”

He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”

Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me. 

After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”

“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”

Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes. 

“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.” 

“Fair.”

Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”

“What’s it for you?”

“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”

“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.

“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.” 

He stared at her in silence.

“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”

“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.

“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”

She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”

“No.” His voice was sour. 

“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.” 

“Y/L/N!”

“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”

“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”

“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.

Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”

“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.

“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.” 

“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.

“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”

“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.

Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.

Here goes.

She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.

Well, fuck. 

~

The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…

She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him. 

Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow. 

When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.

But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.

The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.

“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.

“No?”

“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica. 

“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”

“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”

He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”

“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.

Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.

“Is something wrong?” 

He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”

“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.

~

Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what. 

She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned. 

So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.

“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”

He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”

“Huh?”

Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper. 

“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”

“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove. 

They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”

Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”

“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.

“Something like that.”

“Have you tried lavender?”

“I’m sorry?” He frowned.

“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.

“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”

“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”

He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”

“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”

“Just give it a sniff.” 

He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”

“Why not?”

“Not quite my taste,” he spat.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”

“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”

“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.

“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown. 

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait. 

He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.

McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.

She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”

While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill. 

Ha.

Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.

“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower. 

“What’s it to you?” she fired back.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.

“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Are they?” 

She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”

“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”

“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”

If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”

He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”

“Why?” she squeaked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”

She gulped.

“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.

“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”

He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.

“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.

“You bought it, didn’t you?” 

“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress. 

Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps. 

“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.

“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

“I live to serve,” he drawled.

And just like that, he was gone.

~

Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.

However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.

Where was that loser?

“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”

Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.

It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.

If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?

The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim. 

As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings. 

Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot. 

And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.

She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.

Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.

A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe. 

Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.

“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”

As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking. 

“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”

final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭

[melo-yello]

📚School Struggles📚 w/ 💥🪨KiriBaku💥🪨 HeadCanons

Pairings: KiriBaku X Black!Reader

Summary: College AU! Reader falls behind in course work, and won’t tell anybody. But Kirishima and Bakugou find out.

A/n: I’m an adult who went most of my life with undiagnosed learning disabilities so this would just be comforting to me. Lil angst! Lots of fluff. Implied ADHD and Dyslexia.

📕🖊 First tests are handed back in four of your eight classes.You’ve failed all but one which you barely passed. You are asked stay back as yet another professor suggests you find a tutor

📕🖊You’re lowkey offended. You’ve never needed a tutor before. Up until recently your performance in other areas compensated for your less than stellar academics. You were in gifted courses all your life. You would just hafta try harder

📕🖊 Kiri and Baku are saving a spot in line for you by the time you meet them at the cafe when you shove the thoughts of failure out of your brain and perk up to your usual self

📕🖊 Kiri’s face lights up as soon as he spots you. “Over here, Babe!” He beams flagging you down. Like it was hard to make out the giant red head in a crowd. Especially with the large lean, continuously pissed blonde scowling at everyone right by his side.

📕🖊 “Hey,Dumbass.” Baku smiles slightly and pulls a hand from his pocket to offer you a hug and a kiss on the temple

📕🖊 Kiri pulls you by your waist into his torso kissing your forehead “What took you so long?” He asks letting you free from the vice grip he had on your curvy hips

📕🖊 “I got a lil turned around again.” You lie pulling Bakugou’s free hand into yours then lean into his shoulder. There’s something very comforting about how warm he is all the time. You wanted to snuggle into his back but PDA really isn’t his thing and you are already pushing it

📕🖊 “It’s a big campus, Teddy, you just have to get used to it. You just transferred. Me and Eiji can take turns walking you from class to class until you get the hang of it, you know?” Baku says trying to read your eyes. He could just feel something is off. Your box braids and the angle itself saves you from any further scrutiny.

📕🖊“You guys, gotta be pretty sprung to do that for me, ya know.” You quip smirking up at him then over to Kiri. “Fuck you too, Teddy Bear.” Baku huffs smirking *maybe he was wrong, unlikely* “Yea basically, Pebs. Liking who you date is super manly.” Kirishima laughs grabbing his tray.

📕🖊 You three finally sit in a small wrap around booth. Bakugou taking the middle spot today. You do your best to not zone out and hyper fixate on your test scores by making sure to laugh at Kiri’s jokes and nod along with Baku’s venting

📕🖊 You slide your fork in and out of your picked over food as you strategize how to fix your current problem without alerting your boyfriends. Before you knew it your table is quiet with two crimson gazes fixed on you

📕🖊 “You’re quiet today, L/n.” Bakugou says fixing you with a deeply fierce gaze which was his way of looking concerned. Sharpness of your actual name drew you from your thoughts in a instant. “Hmmm I think Kats has a point, L/n Y/n.” Kirishima says in between slurps of his smoothie. His red eyes practically dripping with curious concern

📕🖊 You make a quick split decision between the truth and charm. “Wow, my government. I must be in real big trouble.” You pout trying to flirt your way out of a more serious conversation. You poke out your plush bottom at Kiri while slipping a hand onto Baku’s inner thigh and gently squeezing before hitting him with the same seductive pout

📕🖊 Big Mistake!😳 Bakugou’s vermillion eyes widen before becoming instantly stern as he grips your wrist tight enough to hurt. “The fuck are you doing?!! I was being serious, Y/n! And in public?!! You’re fucking priceless!” The ash blonde hisses with angry pink cheeks. Guilt washes over you when you snatch your wrist back. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to...talk about it.” You mumble. “Then use your fucking words!” 😤 Bakugou kisses his teeth and stands so Kiri lets him out. “He’s just a little embarrassed, Pebble. I needa talk him down. You can find your next class right?” He sighs watching Baku storm out

📕🖊 “Yea. I’m sorry. Tell him, Kiri. Please.” You squeak sheepishly grabbing your stuff. “He knows but I will. He’s mad about other stuff.” He nods following after Bakugou

📕🖊 It’s intimidating to compete with their history at times. You couldn’t bring yourself to just dump all your issues on them

📕🖊 You’ve only been dating since summer and Kiri and Baku have been dating since their senior year in high school year. You guys are starting your junior year and are still learning each other.

📕🖊 You get lost a couple times before finding the right building. The noise in your head going nearly at light speed to wrap all the problems you’re having. The professor passes the test you’d spent majority of last night and early morning studying for. You felt confident until it was in your hands.

📕🖊 You chew the pen top trying to finish up the last 7 short answer questions when then alarm for 5 minutes left is given. You panic not even having started the true false section on the last page. You scribble down answers just as time up is announced across the classroom

📕🖊 Defeat washes over while you shuffle out the door. You reach in your pocket to dig out the card for Student Accomidation Services your World Civ professor gave you. Maybe this was something simple as a “processing problem” as she had explained when you visited her during office hours

📕🖊 A throat clearing pulls you from your thoughts. You jump stuffing both hands into your jeans card and all. Bakugou stood unreadable propped up on a wall only a few steps away from you. “Eiji, thinks we need to talk about the cafe. Plus he doesn’t get out of lab til 3:45, so you’re kinda stuck with me.” Bakugou mumbles offering his palm as an olive branch.

📕🖊 “He’s probably right. I don’t mind just you, Tuff Guy. I really am sorry though, Katsuki.” You sigh interlocking your fingers with his. “I know, Teddy. I wasn’t really mad about that anyways.” Baku concedes as you two stroll down the hall. “I didn’t hurt your wrist earlier, did I?” Baku asks softly opening the door and meeting your eyes with gentle concern. “Nah, You didn’t, King Explosion Murder.” You laugh giving his hand a firm squeeze before kissing it

📕🖊 The walk to your dorm is quiet and peaceful. He lets you settle your school bag before speaking again “I just feel like you’re still trying to hide parts of yourself from us, especially me,” He says looking into your eyes now, “Like you’ve been pulling back. Eijirou thinks I’m looking too deep, but I doubt it. I know I can be a little rough and mean sometimes...well a lot of the times. I’m not easy to get along with. But you know you can talk to us when you’re upset or if something bothering you... if I’m bothering you. I don’t like you feeling like you have to pretend to be ok if you’re not.” Baku finishes crossing his arms tightly across your chest.

📕🖊 You dig your nails into your palms mercilessly. You open your mouth to reply and reassure him but the words won’t come. Baku notices what you’re doing to your hands and steps closer to take them into his. He rubs slow circles into the backs of them. Hot tears pool at the corners of your eyes as you try to find your voice. “Kats, I’m...I didn’t me...I...Of course you’re not what’s bothering me.” you croak out just as tears roll down your face and Baku pulls you to his chest.

📕🖊 Your breathing hitches and you just let yourself be disappointed, confused, frustrated, and upset about the last month and a half of struggling and wondering why you couldn’t tell anybody and why no one was even noticing. But He did. Baku had noticed. He rocks gently as you tremble in his arms rubbing firm circles in your lower back.

📕🖊 You two stay like that for what seems forever. Once your breathing evens out Baku’s hold relaxes. He kisses both your temples.You reluctantly let go , so you can pull wrinkled failing test pages from your backpack. “Please don’t laugh at me, Suki.” You peep placing the cause of your meltdown in his hands not attempting to have your puffy eyes met his red ones. Lifting your chin so you’re looking him in the eyes. “Come on, Teddy Bear. I wouldn’t dare.” He nods with the most serious face

📕🖊 Bakugou is quiet for a while as he leafs through the exam papers. “Why didn’t finish any of them?” He asks “Time. I’m a slow reader.” You mutter back. “I’ve seen you doing homework for two of these courses and passing those, what’s happening?” Baku says staring in disbelief at the scores at the top of each exam.

📕🖊 You swallow the lingering fear of judgement. You place a hand at your temple to remind yourself of Baku’s earlier tenderness. “I get anxious. It gets so much harder to read when I’m that worked up, and I can barely focus once I start forgetting answers...I know it’s just a test. I guess...That sounds dumb, doesn’t it?” You sigh shrug off your own explanation.

📕🖊 “Nope. Not dumb at all. Sounds like test anxiety to me. I struggled with that in high school . I didn’t know you were a slow reader, Teddy.” Baku says pulling your hand before you can dig your nails into it. “Yea. One of my professors thinks I have dyslexia and ADHD...but I’m not stupid sooo.” You hum rocking on your heels “That is not what either of those words mean, and I know you know that, L/n.” Bakugou growls he absolutely hates when you or Kirishima talk down on yourselves. “Yea but it feels like it though.” You sigh biting your lips

📕🖊 Before Baku can say a word, Kiri swings the door open. “Babes! Have you two hotties missed me?” The red head shouts coming through the door way smiling until he sees your puffy eyes and tense posture. “Bakugou Katsuki, I know you fucking didn’t?!!” Kiri questions suspiciously leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrapping a protective hold around your waist.

📕🖊 “The Absolute fuc-” Baku’s defensive rant is cut short as you kiss the hand holding yours to quiet him as you answer Kiri “No Eiji, he didn’t. I’m flunking like half my classes.” You huff meeting his eyes with quivering lips trying your best not to cry all over again

📕🖊 Kiri is stunted into complete silence. The only thing he can think to say is an apology to his boyfriend for jumping to conclusions. Last time he checked your GPA’s a lot more impressive that his. “How the fuck is that even possible? You transferred into the honor courses.” Kiri says completely baffled moving to where he could see your face.

📕🖊 You explain to your boyfriends all the things that have been tripping you up and confusing you. You detail how hard studying has been as far as staying focused and actually understanding lengthy test questions

📕🖊 Kiri has a million questions at first but stops half way through after Baku grabs your overnight bag and leads you out the door. “You’re gonna freak her out all over again, Shitty Hair, if you keep going at her like that.” He could tell you were getting overwhelmed, and might cry again “My bad, Pebs.” Kiri says kissing your cheek as he follows behind

📕🖊 Once you get back to their apartment and Baku askes for your help making dinner. He has you read the directions and ingredients to him. You stumble through most of it, but that doesn’t stop him from praising you as soon as you finish. He has since learned you and Kiri do best when told how well you’re doing vs his typical shouting method

📕🖊 The three of you set an assessment time with the Student Disability Services on campus that doesn’t conflict with the Boys’ schedules, because they insisted that they’d both be there to support their baby and wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses for an actual reason to miss it

📕🖊 Kiri helps you make flash cards for your next test. If he remembers nothing else from Baku’s tutoring sessions the importance of repetition is drilled into him...among other things. Each time you ask him how that went he’ll just shudder. “It was the most intensely terrifying experience of my high school career, and we fought villains pretty regularly.” Kiri deadpans before grinning like the Cheshire Cat and covering his head. “You’re full of fucking shit, Shark Week! I’m the best tutor you assholes could hope for.” Baku yells pushing Kiri’s face into his pages of notes.

📕🖊 The night before your disability assessment you find yourself tossing and turning at like 4:45 in the morning. Kiri repositions pinning you in place so you face Baku’s back. You trace soft shapes into him just before he flips meeting your eyes. “Lil early isn’t it, Babygirl?” He whispers brushing away a few stray box braids covering your face. You don’t bother answering and instead offer him your palm and he takes it without hesitation interlocking your fingers with his. “Nervous?” He hums when he feels the steady trembling of your hand.

📕🖊 “Katsuki, what if there’s nothing wrong with me? What if it’s just me? What if I’m just...” you trail off not sure if you want him to hear how much this subject shakes your confidence. Bakugou moves close enough for your foreheads to touch. “If you’re just not smart? Not even possible. Whatever it is me and Kiri will help you go beyond. I know this is scary, but every first usually is.” Bakugou smiles softly

📕🖊 “Bbbbbuuut maybe I’m just du-” You attempt to argue until a sharp nip on the side of your neck where Kiri was peacefully nuzzled quiets you. “Nope. Not a chance. Pebble, don’t talk shit about my girlfriend again.” He mumbles in a gravelly half sleep voice. He settles again and snakes an arm around hips as he tugs Baku into you with the other. You open mouth your more to defend yourself but KatSuki just bops your nose as he closes his eyes, “You heard, the sexy ass red mountain. You’re fucking smart. Go back to sleep, Kay?”

📕🖊 “Kay.” You sigh digging your face into the crook of Baku’s neck. You lay there out argued but feeling overwhelming loved, so you chose to let them win the debate. The boys hardly agree on most things so they were totally probably right about this one anyways.

📕🖊 You are on a very very short list of people who Bakugou Katsuki repeats himself for. Like boy lets you “huh?” the fuck out of him. He will often cup your face or hold your hands if he needs tell you something important b/c he understands you’re a tactical learner

📕🖊 Best believe that all your future successes in classes big and small will be celebrated you getting taken out for icecream and if it’s a graded paper they’ll put on the fridge like you’re in grade school. You find it a little embarrassing but it really makes you feel like you’re making progress

📕🖊 Kiri brings your favorite snacks for study sessions so he can reward you for right answers and staying on task. You call it “childish” at first until he shrugs “Oh my bad we can try something els-” about to put them away. “Noooooo no those are my favorites.” You nearly jump over the table. Kiri has a shit eating grin the rest of the study session

📕🖊 When giving directions from the passenger seat both Kiri and Baku typically do a good job of remembering you need them to point left and right

📕🖊 If you’ve had long day in tutoring and homework and you guys are watching anime Bakugou will read the subs to you. Sometimes if he’s in a particularly good mood he might even imitate a voice or two

📕🖊 Kiri would politely let you ramble about one of your niche interests and will help you get back to your point when you get lost in a tangent

📕🖊 Don’t let these two hear you call yourself “dumb” or “stupid” Kiri will just act like he can’t comprehend what you’re saying like deadass “Pebs, speak English please. Nope not catching that, Babygirl. Did you say you were a smarticle particle? An intelligent ass motherfucker?! Oh, of course you are!” While Baku is more like “Sorry what was that? I thought I heard a very accomplished and creative thinking ass bitch say something? A incredibly capable ass bitch say something?A smart ass bitch say something?” Your only response is yes and then you get a forehead kiss

[rmnamjoons]

Taking Flight [KNJ Oneshot]

➳ summary: More than a decade after the alien invasion that wiped out most of the planet, you and Namjoon are both in the Pilot Cadet Corps, training for if the alien attackers ever come back. What begins as a playful rivalry between two overachievers develops into a deep friendship and emotional bond, but when the aliens suddenly return and you and Namjoon are separated, you find out just what you’re willing to do to get back to him.

➳ pairing: pilot!Namjoon x pilot!reader

➳ genre: smut, sci fi au, post apocalypse au, alien invasion au, rivals to friends to lovers

➳ word count: 15.2k

➳ read on ao3, link to my masterlist

➳ tags: smut, reunion sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, emotional loving sex, soft dom namjoon, dirty talk (no degradation), rivals to friends to lovers, sexually charged fight/sparring scene when they’re rivals, previously seemingly unrequited love/mutual pining, shower sex, multiple positions, namjoon is needy and so in love

➳ warnings: unnamed character death/death mention, blood mention, injury mention/vague description

➳ a/n: I know this is kind of a niche genre for smut fics; I primarily wrote this for myself, and I definitely had fun and like what I came up with! What’s the point of fanfiction anyway, if not to have fun? Also, this takes place over a few years, and I tried to portray how Namjoon was feral and angry when he was younger but is now a loving gentle giant. Enjoy!

I.

Everybody lost someone in the attacks that killed most of the planet. Friends. Family. Partners. You had lost everything and everyone, like most people who’d lived in the cities that no longer had names — what once had been centers of commerce, tourism, and civilization were now nothing more than craters, and with so few left who remembered them, what they’d once been were now lost to time.

You'd only survived by chance, really. You and your family had been in a tunnel leaving the city, on foot like everyone else, and when everything had turned to chaos, you’d gotten lost from your parents and sister. You still remembered the way people screamed and ran through the tunnel, their voices echoing harshly off the cement walls. You’d spotted someone hiding off to the side in a utility room in the tunnel, and when the blast hit the city center, that person had made you hide in the room too, their body shielding yours from the hellfire, melting around you.

You were five years old then. You were pretty sure your sister had been eight. You couldn’t remember what your parents or sister looked like, or your house, or where you’d gone to school, other than vague flashes and shapes of people who’d once been your whole world. All you’d had with you were the clothes on your back, and even those had been taken away once you’d gotten somewhere safe and been given something clean to change into.

After the ships fell and surviving aliens left, it had taken years to clear the rubble and start over. The attacks that changed and destroyed everything had also been a gift, or so they now preached, in which humanity was able to grow, learn, and become united. The religions and cults who now worshiped the alien attackers believed humanity had deserved extermination, but you liked the more academic approach to the alien race’s lessons: the technology humans had been able to reverse engineer from their fallen ships.

One of the many ways humanity had advanced in the last few years was flight technology. Planes were faster, turned sharper, could go farther, burned cleaner energy. The one thing everyone seemed to agree on was how important Earth’s planes had been in beating them, so that was where all the technology and progress was focused now.

You loved planes and flying, you always had, but the real reason you wanted to be a pilot, you held much closer to your chest: your entire life, you always felt like the attacks when you were young were just the beginning. Like an unhealthy obsession or open wound, it was all you could think about sometimes, what drove your every decision, what led you to the Pilot Cadet Corps. You wanted to be part of the team that took them down if they ever came back. You wanted to be ready.

You were eighteen when you’d joined the Corps. You’d jumped on that opportunity the first moment you were able, without so much as a second glance back at what you left behind. You’d been adopted fairly soon after the attacks, but your adopted parents never felt much like family.

The first full year of Corps was bootcamp. Bunk rooms were co-ed, and every moment of your lives was dictated down to the second. You woke up at six in the morning and ran laps around the track. You had as much free time as you earned between whenever you finished your laps and when breakfast started at seven: the faster you ran, the more free time you got.

Eight to noon was physical training. After lunch was different depending on the day: three days a week you had mental training for whatever field you were going into, mostly flight simulation for the pilots. Another day was more combat training, and the last was an alternate, for first aid, written tests, marksmanship, and other courses along those lines. After that you had more physical training, like sparring and hand-to-hand combat, then dinner, then free time. Lights out was strictly at ten-thirty every night, and then you’d start it all over again the next day.

Now, you stood in line with the other cadets training to be pilots, waiting to hear your class ranks. Every month, they would announce a ranking of all cadets, a score averaged in test results, simulator scores, and overall performance. The better you ranked, the better your placement once you graduated.

“Third place, Park. Eighty-nine point nine,” the sergeant read off, making a small boy a few rows away from you puff up his chest in pride. You weren’t sure why anyone would feel proud of not getting an A, but you pushed that thought away.

You swallowed hard, holding your breath. There were only two spots left, and if you’d scored higher than Park, that meant you got an A and were either in second or first place out of the whole class. You didn’t know everyone’s names yet, so you weren’t sure who you were competing with.

“Second place, Y/L/N. Ninety-five point two.”

You heard the impressed murmur of others in the class before all of them were silenced by a firm look from the sergeant. Your heart sank, your hands curling into tight fists. Second place? You’d been so sure before now that you were working harder than all the other cadets. You were smarter than them, faster, more focused. Who the fuck had beaten you?

“First place, Kim. Ninety-five point three.”

Your brow furrowed. You weren’t sure who this Kim was, but you set your jaw, becoming determined to learn everything about them so you could beat them. Whatever their weaknesses were, you’d find them and exploit them.

You snuck a glance around you, trying to figure out who Kim was, and nearly jumped out of your skin when the tall boy next to you made eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow in the most smug, cocky, asshole-ish look you’d ever seen. That one singular eyebrow quirk, the corner of his lip curling up barely noticeably, all of it made you want to seethe and strangle him.

You’d noticed this man before, but had never thought much of him. He was taller than all the other men, but he hadn’t come off as particularly smart or extraordinary. This guy was the one who’d beaten you?

Now that you looked at him, you noticed he was definitely very muscular. Had he beaten your score through his strength? You could work harder at weight lifting and beat him. Were his test scores perfect? You could make yourself study even more.

Whatever it was that made him first place, you’d find out and beat him.

II.

In the following weeks, you began to wonder how you’d ever missed Kim Namjoon.

You and Namjoon both worked harder than everyone else. You both trained longer, started earlier in the morning and kept going until you were the last ones left. You both pushed yourselves harder than all of your other classmates, academically and physically. Before he was placed first in the class, you hadn’t even noticed him, but now he was the bane of your existence, and you existed only to beat him and come out on top.

You were faster and more agile, but Namjoon was by far stronger. You almost wanted to dispute the scoring system; what use was strength for a pilot? You weren’t soldiers. He needed fast reflexes and precision, not fighting skills or the ability to deadlift two hundred pounds. Was he planning on picking up planes and throwing them at the alien ships? It was so stupid.

The second month of bootcamp, you were the top of the class, and Namjoon was second place now. You smiled smugly to yourself and kept your eyes focused forward, staying perfectly at attention like the other cadets, but you could feel his eyes on you and almost sense his focused anger, that same emotion you’d felt when he’d first beaten you.

After the ranking announcements, you went to combat training in the gym, but your instructor called out both your name and Namjoon’s before you could even get started.

“I want the two of you to spar,” the instructor said as the two of you ran up. “No rules, just fighting. You can use boxing, wrestling, martial arts, whatever you want — just don’t kill each other.”

You narrowed your eyes at Namjoon, almost expecting him to refuse to fight you, for being a girl. Besides occasional glares, the two of you had never so much as said a word to each other, but you figured smug alpha male assholes were all the same.

But instead, Namjoon smiled and said, “All right.” He almost seemed eager to get in the ring and teach you a lesson.

Now, you eyed him from across the ring, how he was watching you with a smug little smirk as he wrapped his knuckles.

“To win, pin the other person’s back to the mat for five full seconds,” your instructor said carefully. “Their back has to fully touch the ground, not just shoulders. They don’t have to be conscious to be pinned.”

You and Namjoon made eye contact at that.

“Whoever wins doesn’t have to run laps next week. Loser runs double laps before eating. You both ready?”

You and Namjoon ended up drawing a crowd of spectators.

The moment the instructor said start, you ran, jumped, and wrapped your legs around his head, twisting and throwing him to the ground so that he was on his back and you stood over his head, smirking down at his stupid surprised face.

He’d hit the mat hard, the breath completely knocked out of him. A few people in the crowd murmured quietly to themselves and quietly asked each other if the fight was already over. You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself feel proud for a split second as you glanced at the spectators, but before you could register what was happening, Namjoon grabbed you by both your legs, making you twist and fall hard on your back, too.

You tried to crawl away from him, but he just pulled you under him by your legs, climbing on top of you and trying to hold you down with his hands. You arched your back as high as you could, touching the mat only with your shoulders and ass as Namjoon fought to grab your wrists. He was on top of you, straddling your abdomen and trying to keep you down without actually touching your chest, and you watched him bite his lip and heard him growl as he focused on not getting hit while you thrashed beneath him.

You brought your leg up and kneed his kidney as hard as you could, making him groan before moving back to pin your legs down too. You could now easily keep your back fully off the mat, but he was straddling you much lower now, bending over you and still trying to grab your arms. This close, you could smell him, his sweat and masculine scent mixed with the cheap soap you all were given, and you had to push aside the fact you kind of liked the way he smelled.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath. You watched Namjoon as he glanced down at your breasts, before his eyes snapped back up at your face, his eyes wide as if he were surprised he’d let himself look.

“Having fun?” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Tons,” he growled, finally catching one of your hands and pinning it down by your wrist.

You hooked your leg up as far as you could, wrapping it around him and using his close proximity to your advantage. This seemed to catch Namjoon very off guard, and you felt more than heard him make a noise in surprise as you essentially embraced him, not giving him any space to move or do anything as you pulled your hand free and wrapped all your limbs around him, hanging off of him like a leach.

Namjoon sat back on his knees, and you held onto him, your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, waiting for your moment to use his weight against him and throw him on his back. He was squirming and wearing himself out, while you just squeezed him, hard enough you heard something in him crack.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, trying to pry you off of him. Before you could answer, he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head backwards, making you gasp and cry out. He started to force you off by getting his hands between your bodies, but you surprised him, grabbing his throat with both hands and squeezing.

Namjoon forcefully brought his hands down on your arms, bending them so that you let go of his neck, and now you were much closer to his face, nearly nose to nose as he still sat there on his knees with you hanging off of him. He held your wrists with both hands now as you tried to struggle free from him, and when you realized you couldn’t, you twisted one wrist, bringing his hand up to your mouth and biting down as hard as you could on the meat of his thumb.

He yelped and let go of you, but before you could use the moment to your advantage, he grabbed you and pushed you off of him, throwing you down away from him while he scrambled back and looked at his hand.

Your body bounced as you hit the mat, rolling a few times until you slammed against the edge of the ring. Namjoon was back on you before you could react, and you felt him behind you, trying to roll you over so he could pin you down on your back again. You brought your head back hard and connected with his nose, making him jump back again.

When you looked back at him, Namjoon was standing across the ring, holding his nose and glaring at you as you jumped to your feet too.

You circled each other for a moment, both closely watching the other’s every move like prey.

His nose was bleeding heavily, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat.  You were pretty sure you had a bruised rib from him throwing you, your lungs burning from exertion from the fight. Everyone who’d been in the gym was now watching, none of them speaking as the two of you circled each other.

You ran at each other at the same time, Namjoon throwing a swing that you easily ducked. While his momentum was off, you punched him hard in the stomach, making him bend over in pain.

He was being sloppy, maybe distracted from his pain and anger, or maybe he was just more of a big clumsy oaf who relied on strength alone than you’d thought. You knew he was smart based on his test scores, but none of that appeared to translate to agility or finesse. He was fighting clumsy and angry, but you only felt more focused now, catching yourself smiling as you almost enjoyed yourself.

When you tried to strike him again, moving to hit your elbow between his shoulders while he was bent over, he turned and reached up, grabbing your neck with both hands. You broke his hold easily, and used that moment to bring your hand up and smack his injured nose.

Namjoon groaned in pain, holding his nose again. You grabbed his free hand, twisting it until he turned around and fell to his knees, yelling in pain, his arm bent painfully behind his back. You now stood behind him, Namjoon unable to move unless he wanted you to break or dislocate his arm, you on your feet with him on his knees.

“Do you forfeit?” you said, pulling his arm up another inch and making him hiss in pain. You could see how much he was sweating and panting, and ignored the way it sent a shiver of lust through you.

“You play dirty,” he seethed. Just standing close to him, you could feel the way heat radiated off of him. You’d noticed before that he was a sweaty guy, but now he was shining with it.

“I seem to remember being told that there were no rules for this fight,” you said, smiling proudly to yourself as you held the large man in place with one hand.

Instead of responding, Namjoon threw himself backwards into you, knocking you off your feet. You were on your back now and he was on his back on top of you, pinning you there. He had to have at least pulled his arm out of socket doing that move, and his body tensed from the pain, but he didn’t stop.

Namjoon pushed down with his shoulders as hard as he could, arching his back and standing up on his feet, bending his legs to put even more weight on just his shoulders to trap you there under him. You were crushed by him, barely able to breathe, let alone keep yourself fully off the mat.

He was so big and heavy, his shoulders wide enough to pin your arms down. You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment, what you hoped would give you an advantage again. You leaned in and bit down where his shoulder met his neck, the same side his arm was dislocated, and you bit down hard.

Namjoon yelped in surprise and pain, and you wrapped your arms around him in a chokehold so that when he tried to roll away, you went with him. He twisted in your arms until he was on top of you, facing you again, and this time you brought your knee up hard between his legs, his eyes closing as he groaned in agony.

You easily pushed him off and got on top of him, straddling his chest and pinning him down. Your knees pressed your full weight down on his biceps, including his injured arm, which made him groan in pain with every harsh exhale. He arched his back and tried to push you off of him, but he could barely move or reach you, his arms both pinned outward.

“Tired of getting your ass kicked yet?” you goaded, raising an eyebrow when Namjoon glared up at you. “How were you ever the top of our class? This is a little too easy.”

“Fuck you,” he growled, seething hard, blood all over his mouth and chin from his broken nose. His back still wasn’t technically on the ground though, so you needed to think of a way to make him stay down.

You were straddling his chest, so you moved your hips forward suddenly before throwing your whole body back, slamming yourself down hard and completely knocking the wind out of him. You simultaneously knocked him down so that his back was against the mat, and purposefully hit the back of your head against his crotch, which had to still be hurting from when you’d just kneed him a minute ago, so that he wouldn’t have the strength to get himself back up for a few seconds. You heard what you thought was a crack, which you really hoped wasn’t his crotch, before you heard and felt him groaning in pain.

The instructor counted out, and you won. You immediately jumped off of him and looked down at the damage.

Blood covered Namjoon’s chin, mouth, and neck, all from his nose wound, which you’d smacked more than once. He was bleeding from the bite on his neck, and his shoulder did not look right, pulled painfully out of socket and potentially broken. He rolled onto his side away from you and moaned, the hand of his arm that wasn’t dislocated over his crotch as he curled up in a ball on the ground.

“You all right?” you asked cautiously, stepping out of the way as the instructor rushed in to help him. Namjoon held up his middle finger to you, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily.

You snorted in amusement and went off to the locker room to shower.

That night, Namjoon limped into dinner.

You were sitting by yourself at a table near the back, reading a book written by a pilot from before the attacks. Namjoon sat down across from you, as if sitting together was something the two of you normally did.

His nose was badly bruised and taped up, definitely broken. Judging by the limp he’d come in with, you’d messed up something below deck. His arm seemed to have been popped back in socket, but you could see the bruising spreading over his collarbone under his t-shirt, and his arm was in a sling. He had bite marks on his neck and hand, and the one on his neck had needed stitches.

You tried not to smile to yourself.

“Y/L/N?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure of your name, like you two weren’t rivals constantly competing and you hadn’t kicked his ass a few hours ago.

“Kim,” you said, returning the formality.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you went back to eating, trying not to look over at him. He rested his non-injured hand on his stomach, and you wondered if you’d broken one of his ribs or if he was just hungry.

“You planning on eating?” you asked him after a moment.

Namjoon actually smiled, laughing to himself weakly.

“I don’t think I even have the energy to walk across the room to get food,” he murmured, his voice a little deeper than usual.

Without a word, you stood, walking straight across the room to get another plate of food. When you returned and placed it in front of him, he looked up at you with wide eyes, confused and shocked by your gesture.

“Do you need me to cut it up for you, too?” you teased, though glancing at his arm, you wondered if he’d actually need that.

Namjoon shook his head after a moment, glancing down at his plate.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. You saw a small, genuine smile on his lips, and you realized then for the very first time that he had dimples.

III.

The following week came, as did Namjoon’s punishment week for losing the sparring match. The first morning, you noticed him waking up earlier than everyone else to go start his laps, since he had to do double. You quickly got dressed and followed.

You ran up beside him as he slowly jogged around the track.

“What are you doing?” He looked over at you, furrowing his brow but not stopping.

“Running laps,” you answered flatly.

You ran the same number of laps as he did that morning, despite having won the right not to run this week. Namjoon, you learned, had a broken rib and pulled groin in addition to all the other stuff you’d done to him, and he’d been given an out and didn’t have to run any laps after all. Your instructor had told him that he needed to focus on healing and not accidentally hurt himself more. He didn’t have to do combat training or anything else physical until he was healed, but he still ran his punishment laps anyway, completely by choice, and so you ran them too, matching his pace the entire time, neither of you saying a word to the other.

Despite getting his ass kicked in the sparring match, the rest of the cadets viewed Namjoon as almost a superhero after that. They respected how well he’d taken a beating; he was the guy who kept fighting, even with half a dozen injuries and multiple broken bones. You were the only one who’d been able to best him, using just your speed to outwit him, and now the rest of the class respected you both even more. Namjoon was a nearly unstoppable tank, and you were the lithe fox that beat him.

As boot camp continued, you and Namjoon continued your quiet friendship, neither of you the overly gushy or warm type, both focused only on training. You studied together, and started helping each other instead of competing. Both of you only improved your scores and times.

Namjoon helped you with your physical training, helping you get stronger. You helped him with his marksmanship, precision, and speed. You regularly sparred and fought and pushed each other further. You studied together, fought together, ate together, did everything together.

The first year of Corps ended, and you entered the second year. This was more specialized, focused on specifically becoming a pilot with more time on flight training instead of physical and military training, which you still definitely had a lot of.

Your class was smaller now, but you still slept in a co-ed barrack. You and Namjoon picked spots next to each other this year.

One night during winter break, almost everyone else had gone home for the week, the two of you essentially having the base to yourselves. It was well past midnight and after lights out, but you and Namjoon laid in your beds talking quietly, both on your sides facing each other. You only had about a foot of space between your beds, and you could just barely make out his face in the dark.

Namjoon told you that he remembered the attacks, losing his family, everything. He’d had a sister too, and had lived in a suburb, not one of the cities. He didn’t explain further, but said that he remembered what happened to his family, and that he’d been found in the woods by himself weeks later. He’d only been seven years old at the time, and you wondered how the hell he’d made it on his own for so long.

You got the feeling he was used to being on his own, and didn’t let himself get attached to anything or anyone. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch him, put your hand on his shoulder and tell him he didn’t have to be alone anymore. But instead you sighed, ignoring the way his sad eyes made your heart ache.

IV.

Your second year turned into your third, and you and Namjoon only became closer. You both planned to go on to a fourth year of training, even though it wasn’t required, as it would give you higher credentials and clearance when you finished. Both of you still strived to be perfect, after all.

Halfway through your third year together, you realized Namjoon was the closest thing you had to family. You both saw each other pretty much every moment of every day. You both didn’t leave the base for holidays, so the longest you’d been apart since first meeting was a few hours, at most.

You were constantly together, even when you didn’t need to be. You woke up early and ran laps, even though you were no longer required to — only first year cadets ran laps, but you both continued because… you didn’t know why, and you didn’t question it. You loved running with him.

That first year together, Namjoon had been stoic and quiet. He didn’t talk much, unless directly questioned, and even then he kept his answers as concise as possible. You weren’t exactly talkative, but when the two of you talked to each other alone, especially in the past few years, Namjoon began coming out of his shell. When he wasn’t guarded and quiet, he was warm and funny, almost loving in his own kind of way. You got the feeling he was naturally full of love, but had pushed that part of himself down in the years he’d spent alone and in shelters.

Now, you were giving Namjoon a haircut. His hair grew weirdly fast, and there were rules about keeping everything, including hair, perfectly in uniform. Men had to have very short hair and be clean-shaven, which meant Namjoon had to get a haircut basically every other week.

When it was warm you did this outside, but now it was winter and you were in the locker room. While you worked, you talked about upcoming tests and other little things. You kept catching Namjoon looking up at you as you stood in front of him, between his spread legs, and he seemed to be getting bolder, watching your face outright instead of just stealing glances.

“Close your eyes and tilt your head back,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact you were blushing and flustered. Namjoon listened without a word, and you let yourself look at him for just a second; your faces were close, even with him sitting and you standing, because of how tall he was. You’d been obsessed with his lips lately, finding yourself fantasizing about them at the most inopportune times, thinking about how soft and full they looked and wondering what they’d feel like against your own.

Before you could pull yourself from your thoughts and start on the front of his hair, the power suddenly cut out.

You let out a small gasp, but this wasn’t exactly surprising around here. The power went out often because of the testing they were doing with switching over completely to alien tech for larger power structures. Still, you’d gasped in surprise because you’d been so focused on Namjoon’s face, and now the two of you were alone together in a dark locker room.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

Of course you were okay; the lights had just gone off.

“Yeah,” you answered anyway. You moved your hands from over his head to his shoulders, feeling him in the dark.

“It’ll be back on in a second, we’re okay,” he said, his thumbs moving slightly, like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know,” you said, your voice sounding small. You weren’t afraid at all, but you didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.

The lights came back on then, and you looked down at him. Namjoon smiled up at you, dimples on full display, and it nearly took your breath away. He had a little piece of cut hair on his cheek, which you gently brushed away, and he wrinkled his nose at you, making your heart ache.

You finished giving him his haircut, and afterwards he pulled off his shirt and went over to one of the showers, to wash off the pieces of hair you’d cut. You gathered up the electric razor and your other belongings while you heard him undressing behind you, turning on the shower and humming happily to himself.

You stopped yourself from looking at him as you walked out of the room and went back to the barracks, refusing to let yourself think about him showering or the way he’d looked at you.

VI.

Your last year of training was mostly just the two of you working together and with various superior officers. You’d get promotions and rank changes after some time in the field, but you’d start out as Senior Airmen, and would probably both make Staff Sergeant within a few years of graduating. There were no wars or active duty anymore, but it meant you’d both be given leadership positions, if ever the need arose.

After graduation, you and Namjoon would both receive your assignments and placements. You’d both requested to be placed together, without requesting anything else. You could be sent anywhere in the world, given any position; you didn’t care where you ended up though, as long as you were with him.

Since it was your last year, you were both given proper rooms instead of barracks. The rooms were small and minimal, but your room was right across from Namjoon’s. You spent a lot of time in each other’s rooms, even sometimes sleeping over.

Now, you laid on Namjoon’s bed in his room, while he sat at the chair by his desk with his feet propped up on the end of his bed. He was playing with a stress ball, passing it back and forth between his hands. You’d finished all your testing and training, so you were both basically just resting until graduation, anticipating your placements. It was late at night, the rest of the base quiet and sleeping.

“Dream placement,” you said, turning your head and pointing at him. “Go.”

“Oh, man…” Namjoon rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Southern California.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What’s in Southern California, besides desert?”

“That’s the closest base to where the first ship went down. They’ve got the best tech out there, the best planes.”

“Okay, true,” you sighed. “But there’s nothing out there for miles. There’d be nothing to do.”

“What else is there, besides flying?” Namjoon threw the little ball he was playing with gently so it bounced off the wall beside you and landed on your stomach.

“I like flying and being able to see something besides sand, rock, and craters for hundreds of miles,” you said, tossing the ball back to him.

“You feel like you’re going faster if you don’t have anything to look at,” he said, catching the ball with one hand and tossing it behind him onto his desk.

“You also get lost easier,” you laughed, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Not if you’re a good navigator,” Namjoon laughed too, standing up and moving onto the bed with you. He wasn’t exactly tickling you, but he was touching your body and you were both giggling as he laid down beside you.

“If you want to feel like you’re going fast, then just go fast,” you said, your hands on his shoulders now as you grinned up at him. He was partially on top of you, partially beside you as he smiled down at you, his mouth so close to yours.

“I want to go even faster,” he said, but he stilled suddenly, looking down at you with wide eyes. He seemed to have suddenly realized the position the two of you were in, and he moved so that he was just beside you, laying on his side as you laid on your back.

You sighed. It was always like this — not that you were complaining, because you loved the relationship you already had with him. But lately, you’d get so close, almost kissing, almost embracing, almost something, and then he’d back off. You still loved the moments before, where you could forget that you were just friends and pretend you were something more, as much as it ended up hurting your heart in the long run.

Even now, you loved this. Namjoon propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you as you continued talking, a different topic now. Your mouths were only a few inches apart. It would be so easy for him to just lean down and kiss you, like you wanted him to so badly.

Namjoon’s hand that wasn’t supporting his head rested on your stomach. You put your hands there too, playing with him, feeling his long fingers and how big his hand was, and Namjoon let you, pretending not to notice.

You talked about graduation plans, life plans, little nothings that made each other sadly smile. Neither of you said it, but you both worried you wouldn’t be placed together.

“What’s your dream placement?” he asked you gently, his voice soft.

“You know, I don’t even care,” you said. Because it didn’t matter where they put you as long as you were with him, but you didn’t say that.

That night the two of you fell asleep like that, in that position. It wasn’t the first time.

VII.

When you woke up, you could feel Namjoon’s gentle breathing on your neck. You turned your head and looked at him, studying his expression in the early morning calm.

He was still on his side facing you, so now you were face-to-face, your foreheads and noses only a few inches apart. His hand still rested on your stomach, and you still held his hand there with both of your hands. You felt his fingers twitch a little in his sleep and wondered what he was dreaming about. His other arm was under the pillow now, and through it you could almost feel the swell of his bicep and warmth of his skin.

You only ever let yourself really look at him like this when he was sleeping, when the two of you had sleepovers in each other’s rooms. You studied the shape of his nose, the way his big, plush lips parted, the puffiness of his cheeks as he relaxed and breathed, every freckle and mole on his face that you wanted to kiss so badly. Cuddled up with him like this, you could feel how warm he was; Namjoon was a furnace of a man, and you’d gotten so used to sharing a bed with him the past few months, you now had to layer up and sleep with an extra blanket whenever you slept alone.

Namjoon sighed then, shifting a little in his sleep. You quickly closed your eyes and turned your head back so you weren’t facing him directly, in case he opened his eyes.

You felt him moving, shifting so that his arm was hugging you instead of his hand just resting on you. His hand was now on your side, below your armpit, his thumb on the side of your breast. He sighed and seemed to fall back asleep, softly snoring again after a few moments.

You laid like that for a while, enjoying this feeling, knowing you’d never have this for real. You'd never wake up next to Namjoon in the context you wanted, but this was more than enough for you. You were so in love with him, but he didn’t see you the same way, so you’d enjoy waking up in his arms for as long as you could.

When Namjoon eventually woke up on his own, he seemed to slowly realize the position you were in, moving his hand down carefully to more platonic territory. You opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him, and were caught off guard by the way he was staring at you so openly, looking down at your mouth for a few moments before looking back at your eyes with an expression you couldn’t name.

“Y/N,” he murmured, so softly you could barely hear him, but you could feel the rumble of it in his chest. You didn’t say anything, both of you just looking at each other in the peaceful quiet stillness of early morning, the only noises both of your gentle breathing.

Namjoon moved his hand up to your shoulder, and then his hand was cupping your cheek, brushing your hair back from your face. The tips of your noses were almost touching, his warm breath on your lips. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against yours, your heart almost stopping in your chest from how close he was. He’s never done anything like this before, and you definitely were not going to stop him.

He turned his head slightly, your foreheads still connected as the tip of his nose skimmed along your cheek, by your nose. He brushed his lips against yours so lightly you could barely feel him, his eyes still closed. You could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek, and prayed he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was racing or how you nearly whimpered at his every touch.

Namjoon moved and brushed his barely parted lips against the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw. His hand on your cheek, he stroked your skin with his thumb slowly, touching you, feeling you. His leg moved up slowly, hooking over yours, and you spread your legs for him. You couldn’t even think straight right now, the only things your brain were processing were the touches and sensations Namjoon was giving you.

What the hell was he doing? The thought of him seeing you romantically, the same way you saw him, had seemed so impossible before now, but now, as he brushed his lips against your skin, you wondered if he’d been longing the same way you had.

Namjoon turned your head carefully, slightly away from him, so that you were looking directly up again. He kissed your cheek closer to him while he stroked the other, pressing gentle open-mouthed kisses down your face and neck as he slowly moved himself on top of you. You, matching his slow movements, wrapped your legs loosely around him and held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon kissed your skin as lightly as he could, feeling you anywhere you’d let him, and you were lost in him. He switched to your other side, kissing your collarbone and neck and jaw, and one of his hands moved up behind your head, tangling in your hair. Every movement was slow and deliberate and gentle.

You never would’ve guessed Namjoon was the gentle type, but now that this was happening, it made sense and you craved it. He closed his lips lightly against your earlobe and you gasped loudly, trying to arch up against him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your ear. “So soft, so perfect, my angel, my love.” His voice was so warm and deep, and you quietly whimpered, holding onto his shoulders even tighter. You felt like he could make you come just from this, just from his light touches and hearing his deep voice praise you. You'd wanted him so badly for years now, you’d dreamed about him, fantasized nonstop, and now here he was, and the tension was already building up for you.

He hadn’t even fully kissed your mouth yet. Namjoon pressed his lips against your cheek, caressing the other side of your face with his hand, just holding your body so close to his. You swore you could die right now and be fine with that.

An alarm suddenly blared, and both of your bodies stilled and tensed.

Namjoon jumped off of you and sat back on his legs, looking around the room like he was expecting to see what was happening written on the walls. You sat up too, looking around. Your legs were still spread, your brain still hazy from Namjoon’s kisses, and you looked at him as you saw him working through what was happening.

“Something’s wrong,” Namjoon said, quickly jumping up. He sat back down on the side of his bed long enough to put on his shoes. “Come on,” he said, pulling you up when he stood again.

You snapped yourself out of your lust-haze. The alarm was still going off, which meant something major was happening right now. It wasn’t just a test.

You left, quickly scampering across the hall to your own room so you could get dressed.

You and Namjoon met up in between your rooms a moment later, both in uniform, and ran down together to where the rest of the base had gathered, Namjoon taking your hand in his as you ran.

VIII.

It was another attack, like when you were young.

You all stood there at attention receiving orders, none of you looking anywhere except forward blankly. This was it, everything you had trained for, the exact reason you’d trained so hard. They were back.

You and Namjoon were both assigned as squadron leaders to two different units, Namjoon to Red One and you to Blue One. Those were two of the best, most elite units of fighter jets, but you looked over at him when you got your assignments. You weren’t together, so you wouldn’t know if he was okay until after it was all over.

You were all dismissed and had fifteen minutes to get to your planes and prepare for launch. You went straight to your plane, not stopping to talk to Namjoon. You knew you wouldn’t be able to leave him once you looked at him, so it was better to just pretend this morning hadn’t happened.

You were just starting to climb the ladder up to your plane when you heard his voice.

“Not saying goodbye?”

You froze in your tracks, but didn’t turn or look at him. You couldn’t make yourself say anything, instead just staring straight in front of you with your hands on the rungs of the ladder.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice much softer now as he walked over to you. The planes were close together so you were in tight quarters, and he stood right behind you, his hands not quite touching your sides.

“What?” you said, not looking back at him.

“Please don’t leave without saying goodbye,” he said. You'd never heard his voice like this. Quiet, pleading, loving. It was like this morning in bed, but more desperate, yearning, begging you to look at him.

You started to move up the ladder without turning around, and he put his hands on your hips, stopping you. He immediately let go, not wanting to trap you there.

You sighed and turned around to face him, only partially, still a step up on the ladder so you were just slightly taller than him. You reached back and held onto the ladder with one hand as you looked at him.

When you saw the expression on his face, it took your breath away. He looked almost tearful, sick with worry, trying to be stronger than how he obviously felt.

“Goodbye,” you said softly, bringing your free hand up to his cheek.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and tried to smile weakly. His hair was getting a little long, you noticed then for some reason. He was supposed to keep it short to stay in uniform, but now it looked long enough for you to run your fingers through.

Namjoon’s eyes were wide and innocent, searching your face. Around you, the base was chaotic and busy as other pilots ran to their planes and officers barked out orders and engines started up. The two of you just stood there in your quiet moment, both a lot less excited about your first mission than you’d thought you’d be, everything happening so much sooner then you’d both thought and on such a larger scale than you ever could have anticipated. You remembered almost wanting this when you were young, promising yourself that you’d be ready if they ever came back. Maybe the universe was punishing you; whenever you loved someone, the universe immediately sought to take it from you. Your family when you were young, and now Namjoon.

He looked like he wanted to kiss you or tell you something. He parted his lips and glanced at your mouth, his brow furrowing as he breathed, and he looked back up at your eyes, his expression so worried.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, smiling gently.

You turned and climbed up into your plane without another word.

V.

There had been twenty pilots in your squadron when you left, and four when you returned.

You didn’t really remember the aliens from when you were little, but you’d seen countless videos. You knew what they looked like, how they performed, what their technology was supposed to be like, what their weaknesses had been.

You saw so many planes go down. The alien ship had a different defense than last time, and the fight was only over when the alien ship suddenly left and moved on, seemingly just because it wanted to, not because the humans posed any kind of threat to it. When it left, it had taken out an entire city, just like last time. The town near the base had only recently gotten its infrastructure set up.

You and your three surviving pilots returned first out of all the other squadrons. You quickly climbed out of your plane and ran down to the hangar, asking about the other pilots still out there. You needed to know if Namjoon was okay.

Before you even got to the hangar, another alarm started blaring. A plane near you exploded, and you spun around, looking up at the sky.

There had to be over a hundred alien ships in the sky, all firing on the base and the planes.

“Get inside, now!” you yelled, pointing at the pilots from your squadron who’d ducked down near their planes. You knew the base had a bunker, and the number of people at the base now could easily survive down there long-term.

There was panic as people got down there as fast as they could, all climbing over each other and yelling. You stayed back where you could see the sky, ducking down in a safe spot and watching as long as you could. You only saw alien ships, none of your own.

You imagined Namjoon’s last seconds. If he hadn’t made it back to the base, there was no way he’d survive. The ships would find him. You could only see the planes you’d seen exploding earlier, hear the voices of the pilots in your squadron on your coms as their ships exploded. A cut-off shout, and then nothing.

You finally made yourself run down to the bunker. In the distance, you could hear the ships destroying every visible part of the base, every last truck and car and plane and tank exploding as the blasts hit them. The walls shook and lights flickered and dust fell from the ceiling as you made your way down the stairwell to the bunker.

Over the destruction above you, you could hear Namjoon’s voice that morning in his bed, the world frozen around you then, the only things that mattered his large, gentle hands, his slow, exploring mouth, and his soft voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’d breathed against your neck. You'd been able to feel his smile, the tip of his nose tracing your jaw, the warmth of his breath on your skin. You'd never felt safer than when you were laying in bed with him.

You pushed the door of the bunker shut behind you, your hands shaking and eyes welling up. You could not think about this; you had to push all of that aside for now. You had a job to do.

After about five minutes down in the bunker, the lights went out. The weak backup generator kicked on near-immediately, but now there was no connection to the outside world. If any pilots managed to survive this long, the base wouldn’t know about it or have any way of contacting them.

When you’d taken off, both you and Namjoon had been promoted to captains, to lead your squadrons. Once all of the remaining people at the base were down in the bunker and accounted for, you were promoted again, this time to major.

Almost everyone out of the thousand or so people on the base had gone out to fight. The only people who’d stayed behind were ground control officers, technicians, first years, civilians who worked on the base, and the top few people in charge. There were maybe a few hundred people down in the massive bunker now, and you ranked sixth in command out of all of them.

Namjoon would’ve been so jealous you outranked him, you thought with a small smile.

VI.

Four days passed with no news.

There was no service. There was no internet, radio, or any connection to the outside world.

You were itching to get out. There was no news from the outside world, but there also hadn’t been any explosions since the first day. The alien ships had to be gone by now. On the second day, you’d tried to suggest to the general that you could go up to the surface and see if an evacuation could be planned, but the general and other officers had all said that there was no need to evacuate, because there were plenty of supplies down here. They would continue to work on regaining communications with other bases, and nothing else immediately mattered until then.

Now, you were on your cot, staring at the ceiling above you. It was the middle of the night and just about everyone else was asleep. Most people slept on cots in what looked like an old gym, all lined up in long rows. Everyone had been given two changes of clothes, all gray jumpsuits. You felt like you were in prison.

The scratchy wool blanket was pulled up to your neck. You tried to imagine sharing the cot with Namjoon, the two of you squeezed onto the spot only meant for one and giggling when you just barely fit. You imagined him spooning you, kissing your neck and shoulder and holding you close to him. You imagined feeling his heartbeat in his chest. You imagined his face when his plane exploded.

It wasn’t fair. You’d literally just become something more than friends, maybe, kind of. Your relationship with Namjoon meant everything to you, and it had suddenly been changing in such amazing ways, and then he’d immediately been taken from you.

You refused to cry about this. You refused to even accept he was gone. There were ways he could’ve survived. There had to be. He could’ve flown low and ejected and hidden in the rubble of the city. Except he wasn’t a coward; you knew him, and you knew he was the type to win or die fighting. He could’ve led other survivors away from the city. Except there was no way these planes could’ve outrun the alien ships. They weren’t fast enough.

There had to be a way. You had to get up to the surface and find out. You had to find him.

VII.

After one week down in the bunker, you felt like you were going out of your mind.

You had a plan. You were going to go to the surface whether they let you or not. You were going to find Namjoon, or at least the remains of his plane. You were going to find him or find closure.

You needed climbing gear to get up the destroyed stairwell. You’d need to find rope and gear, a lot of water, and survival supplies. You began your plan, looking around for spare supplies nobody would notice was missing until you were gone. You knew where to find rope, but you had to figure out how to acquire and carry enough water. Plus you would need to bring medical supplies, in case Namjoon was injured. God, you could just imagine him, laying somewhere, bleeding out and barely conscious. You wondered if he’d thought of you, imagined you coming to save him.

You were seconds away from stealing rope from a supply closet when a short little man walked around the corner.

“Major?”

You froze in place. You weren’t in the room yet; you were innocent.

“Yes?” you said, smiling politely.

“The general wants to see you,” he said, and left without adding anything else.

Shit. How had they known? You hadn’t done anything yet, or told anyone or written anything down.

You made your way to the command center. Not much was going on there in the way of commanding anything, but it was where the higher ups — which now included you — met, and it was where they were attempting to reestablish communications with the outside world.

The room was busy with officers buzzing around. There were a lot of exposed wires hanging out of the walls. It looked like they were rebuilding a computer system circa 1970.

“Major,” the general said, motioning you over.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re the highest ranking field officer, so this goes to you first,” he said, handing you a manila folder. “We’ve established communication with a base a hundred and fifty miles from here, but only briefly. They said they have seven survivors from our base. They didn’t say who.” The general quickly added the last part when he saw your face light up at the mention of survivors.

You glanced down at the folder. Before you could speak, the general continued.

“We need someone — a pilot — to go up to the surface and see if any planes are still intact, and if so, fly to Walker Base. If there aren’t any planes left, we’ll probably have you try to find a car, or hike if you have to. We need to get our relay codes to that base, and once we do, we’ll have full communication with them again. You up for it?”

You looked up at the general, smiling.

VIII.

It took you about an hour to climb the staircase. Most of it was rubble and a lot of it involved throwing up a rope and securing it on something to climb the huge gaps where the stairs had fallen out, but you eventually got to the top, pushing aside debris to get yourself outside.

The base was gone. There was no way any planes survived this. Still, you walked out onto the strip, just in case.

Some of the piles of charred metal were still smoking. A few small fires were still going, most of them out in the lot, where jet fuel must still be feeding them. You tried to see if you could spot where your and Namjoon’s rooms used to be, but it was all just rubble, ash, and charred cinderblocks.

You walked down the landing strip, looking at the piles of scorched plane parts, blasted to nothing. Pieces of metal jutted up, a plane wing here, a part of engine there. Every pile you saw, you imagined seeing Namjoon’s body among them. You knew if he was dead, he wouldn’t be here, he’d be out in the city — but seeing all of the destroyed planes wasn’t helping.

You stopped in your tracks.

At the end of the landing strip, under a broken wing of a much larger plane, was the most beautiful F-15 Eagle you had ever seen.

You ran to it, climbing on it when you reached it and pushing aside the wing of the bigger plane until it clamored to the ground. You climbed into the cockpit, dropping your backpack with supplies and the relay codes into the little compartment, feeling nearly dizzy in euphoria. You prepped the jet for takeoff, everything going smoothly, and you imagined Namjoon’s face when you showed up at the base. He’d be so happy to see you, but so surprised, and when you told him that you got promoted to major–

You stopped for a moment, your smile falling as you stared blankly at your hands on the switches and dials.

You didn’t know if he was one of the survivors at the other base. You shouldn’t get your hopes up just to show up and find out he wasn’t one of the pilots who made it. For all you knew, you’d get there and one of the pilots from Namjoon’s squadron would tell you all about how he died.

You focused on the task in front of you. You were on a mission, first and foremost, to get the relay codes to the base. That was the important thing right now, not yourself or Namjoon.

You got the plane prepped and ready to go. The center of the runway was clear, since most of the planes had been gone.

F-15s were always your favorite.

IX.

You didn’t attract any alien attention while flying, thankfully. You got there in just over twenty minutes; around the fifteen minute mark, you slowed down and the base contacted you on your descent into their airspace. You had to identify yourself and state your intentions, but the base seemed completely willing to let anyone human land.

When you landed, a few people ran out and took care of your plane for you, as you were escorted inside. You handed over the relay codes and quickly asked if you could see the survivors from your base.

“Most of them were pretty shell-shocked when they got here, but they’re soldiers. They know how it is,” the officer escorting you said as the two of you walked. “How many survivors at your base?”

“Three hundred and forty-two,” you said flatly, staring straight in front of you as you walked. “We had four pilots including myself return, the rest were non-flight officers and civilians. No casualties on the ground, but the base was destroyed in an aerial attack shortly after we landed.”

“Yeah, we heard about that. That’s why we got your other pilots,” the guy said, motioning in front of him in the direction you were walking, assumedly at the surviving pilots. “They didn’t have anywhere to land and thought the base was gone, so they came here. All from different squadrons, but led by one captain.”

You perked up when you heard that. A captain had survived.

You really did try not to get your hopes up. Your base was huge; there were so many squadrons, only one captain surviving was not good news for Namjoon. Still, you were hopeful.

You were led to a barrack where a few pilots were sitting around together, all men looking bored out of their minds. You recognized Park from your training class, and a few others as well. You scanned their faces quickly, looking from person to person, desperately searching for him, frantic and anxious and despairing when you looked and didn’t see him–

“Y/N?” a voice said from behind you, and you spun around.

Namjoon had walked in behind you from the other direction; he looked like he’d just taken a shower, from the wet hair, clean clothes, and bag over his shoulder, which he dropped as he stared at you in disbelief.

Neither of you even said anything. You were only about ten feet apart already, but you immediately met in the middle, desperately grabbing at each other, hugging tightly. Your legs were up around his waist and he held you to him as he kissed all over your face. The room was spinning or maybe Namjoon was just spinning you around, you didn’t care, you just held onto him and tried to kiss him, one hand in his hair and the other arm around his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.

As much as you wanted and tried to kiss him, Namjoon was just too much; it was like he was trying to kiss every last millimeter of your face at least twice. He was holding you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t even care. His skin, his hair, his mouth, his kisses were all the most amazing things you’d ever felt. You were pressed chest-to-chest, arms wrapped around each other, and you could almost feel his heartbeat pumping along with your own.

Namjoon stopped kissing you long enough to nuzzle against you, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against yours, nearly animalistic.

“I missed you so much, my love,” he breathed. You swore his face was wet with tears, his cheek still pressed against your own. “I haven’t thought about anything other than you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you this whole time, I love you so much… god, fuck, when I thought I’d lost you…” He started kissing your cheek again desperately, his hand coming up to hold your other cheek and hold you in place.

“I missed you too,” you gasped, your voice small and high-pitched as you tried and failed to hold in your tears.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he kept repeating, not even stopping speaking as he kissed you, so some of his words were muffled.

“I love you, too, Joon,” you managed to say before he kissed your mouth, tilting his head to kiss you so deeply it took your breath away.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” somebody else in the room said then. “Do you guys want us to, like, leave or something?”

Namjoon stopped, catching his breath as you turned your head to look back at the six other pilots and the officer all awkwardly watching you.

“Uh, sorry,” you muttered, putting your feet back on the ground and turning around. Namjoon kept touching you, not taking his hands off you, even as you faced the others.

“I know you both outrank us, but get a room,” a different pilot laughed, his smile boxy and voice deep.

“You have a room, actually,” the officer that led you in said, perking up like that was his cue.

“We do?” Namjoon asked, confused. He stood behind you, hands on your hips, tall enough to see over your head.

“She does,” the officer gestured to you. “She’s a major. All superior officers class O4 and up get their own private room.”

“Major?” Namjoon said, tilting a little to look at your face. You smiled to yourself smugly.

“I can take you there now,” the officer said, motioning to the door behind him.

Namjoon stepped to the side and looked down at the ground shyly, glancing up at you and pouting. You wanted to roll your eyes; he actually thought you weren’t going to invite him to come with you.

“You too,” you said, holding out your hand for him.

Namjoon beamed, and quickly picked up his bag and jogged over to what must be his bed, grabbing the few belongings he had, and shuffled back over to your side, taking your hand and kissing you on the cheek before following along with you.

“Go get it, captain,” one of the pilots jeered at him, the others all snickering and wolf-whistling as Namjoon dropped your hand long enough to flip all the other pilots off while the officer led the two of you out and down the hallway.

As soon as the door was shut behind you in your room, the officer gone and the two of you alone, Namjoon dropped his belongings and picked you up again, your legs tight around him, the two of you kissing again. You felt your back against the cold metal of the old-fashioned blast door, one of Namjoon’s hands holding your face.

“How’d you get here?” he murmured against your neck after a moment, kissing your cheek between gasps. “They said the base was destroyed, no contact.”

“The attack happened right after I landed. Everyone got down in the bunker, no casualties on the ground,” you gasped, still a little short on breath. As you spoke, Namjoon kissed your neck, working his way up to your jaw. “They needed a pilot to bring relay codes here.”

“What’s this about you being a major now?” he said, smirking, his lips not leaving your cheek.

“Got an upgrade while you were gone,” you said, and then you gasped, laughing as Namjoon suddenly sucked your skin over your pulse on your neck, leaving behind a deep purple hickey.

“Well, Miss Major, that means you outrank me now,” he said, leaning back enough to smile at you, his expression a mix of mischievous and proud.

He stepped backward then, still supporting you with his arms, and walked back until he got to the bed, sitting down on it. He laid back, pulling you down on top of him gently, your mouths connected the whole way down.

He was the best thing you’d ever felt, his large, firm body contrasting his gentle touches and kisses. You couldn’t get close enough to him, but it was slow, lazy, loving, everything you’d ever wanted with him, his soft tongue in your mouth, his firm arms around you, his warm body under you.

You couldn’t get over how good he smelled. There was the soap he’d just used, but you’d known him and been close to him long enough to know his scent. He tasted so good too; he swirled his tongue with yours slowly, tracing lazy patterns on your tongue, kissing you so deeply your head spun. His hands rested on your back, his fingers spreading wider as he tried to touch more of you.

You parted for air as he rolled you both, holding your body to his with one hand as he pulled you up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as he gently laid you down. Even though you would’ve only fallen a few inches and the bed was soft, he set you down like you were made of glass, looking down at you with love and hearts in his eyes, not breaking eye contact as he gave you a small, warm smile.

His dark hair was mussed up a little from you running your fingers through it, and it looked fantastic on him. His face was flushed and his parted lips were red and a little swollen, and he looked like he’d been crying, or was about to cry, or both.

You pulled him down to you and kissed him again. He set his body against yours, lining himself up with you as you wrapped your legs around him. You were both still fully clothed, but you could feel him, pressed perfectly against you from your collars to his growing erection and your throbbing core.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, grinding slowly against you. “I’ve loved you for so long, I wanted to die when I thought something happened to you and I never told you. I promise I’m going to tell you now, every single day, every time I see you, every time we make love, every second of every day–” He cut himself off by kissing your neck desperately, moving down toward your breast.

“I love you, my angel. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world, I love you so much,” he said, kissing along your skin frantically by the collar of your ugly flight jumpsuit. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, I love you, I love you,” he said, kissing up the center of your chest toward your clavicle. His messy hair tickled your chin, and you rested one of your hands on the back of his head as he worked, gently stroking his hair.

“I love you too,” you managed to say, though words weren’t really coming to you right now, with all Namjoon was doing to you.

Namjoon got up then, and you watched for a moment as he started quickly stripping off his clothes. You sat up too, pulling off your jumpsuit, and Namjoon got all but his boxers off before your arms were even out. He helped you, running his hands along your skin as you peeled off the jumpsuit, leaving you in just the undershirt and shorts you’d had on underneath.

There was a moment where the two of you just sat there looking at each other. You’d both seen each other in this context — nearly naked — before, from sleeping in the same room to swimming to other random things you’d done together over the years, but this was the first time it was ever like this.

Namjoon raised his hands slowly, his fingers just barely skimming against your hips. His eyes were on your breasts, his mouth nearly watering, and you smiled at that. He looked up at you, his eyes innocent and showing every emotion he had within him; he was asking for permission.

You brought your hand up to his face and kissed him slowly, savoring every movement of his lips, the feel of his tongue, the taste of him. His hands went to your thighs and helped you wrap your legs around him, and then you were laying down again, Namjoon on top of you.

He kissed down your chest, this time simultaneously running one of his hands up your stomach under your thin undershirt. He cupped your breast with that hand, feeling you fully, while his mouth kissed back up to your neck. He got your undershirt off without either of you having to get up, though he did have to lean back a little to give you room to wiggle around, and then he unhooked your bra and threw that and your undershirt somewhere behind him.

Namjoon swirled his tongue around one of your nipples, gently squeezing your other breast with his hand, your peaked nipple hard against his palm. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger slowly while sucking the other, just barely using teeth and making you gasp, and then he switched sides, doing the same thing again.

“That feels so good, Joonie,” you sighed, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself. You stroked his hair while he worked, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. Every moment or so, you’d let out a moan for him, tightening your fingers in his hair whenever he did something that made you see stars, and he’d hum back to you, responding without taking his mouth off you.

Namjoon moved down your abdomen, kissing every rib, every freckle, every last inch of your skin. He dipped his tongue into your belly button and you gasped and giggled, feeling his grin against your skin as he kissed down your navel, his tongue tracing along the edge of the little shorts you still had on.

You reached down and tried to pull off your shorts, but Namjoon’s hands replaced your own, slowly pulling just your shorts off and leaving your panties. He tossed your shorts the same direction he’d tossed your bra, and then looked down at you, sitting back on his legs. Your legs were spread wide, your soaked panties the only thing covering you, your eyes desperate for him, your breasts rising and falling as your breath quickened in anticipation and need for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his expression almost dazed in love and adoration. He looked like he didn’t know where to look, his eyes scanning your face, your breasts, your spread thighs, the spot on your panties where you were already wet and soaking for him. You bit your lip and whimpered, and he closed his eyes, sighing and smiling to himself, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Namjoon bent over and kissed your ankle, slowly, chastely. He moved to the other side and repeated that, kissing your anklebone. He moved up your calf, staying on that side, kissing you over and over and moving so slowly you started to whine for him, begging him to go faster and reaching down for him. He reached up and took one of your hands, holding it and lacing your fingers together as he continued what he was doing, not at all speeding up.

He kissed your knee, the side of it, the front of it, and tilting your leg gently to kiss the back of it. He moved up, kissing your inner thigh while still holding your hand. You spread your legs further for him, whimpering and squeezing his hand as he got closer and closer to your center.

Namjoon pulled back then, a smug smile on his face as he started moving down to kiss his way up your other leg, starting again at your ankle. You let out a whiney moan, pulling his hand and looking down at him, pleading.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry,” he said gently, moving back to where you wanted him most.

He kissed you right over your panties, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that made you cry out. You could feel him breathing hard through his nose, smelling and inhaling you as he moved his mouth against you, letting go of your hand so he could hold your thighs with both his large, perfect hands.

He licked and sucked the fabric of your panties, tasting where you were soaked for him. It was the most amazing thing you’d ever felt, and you spread your legs even further for him, your hands holding onto the sheets of the bed, your knuckles turning white.

You gasped when you felt teeth, and then Namjoon was slowly pulling your panties down your legs with his mouth, looking up at you with playful eyes and a smirk. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead just closed your legs enough for him to get your panties off of you, letting him have his fun. He let out a small growl at you, your panties still in his mouth, and you giggled, a soft noise that made his eyes light up.

Before you could think or do anything, Namjoon was back between your legs, spreading you open with his fingers and licking a slow, thick line up your folds to your clit.

You cried out, your head falling back and eyes squeezing closed. Namjoon repeated the motion, even slower this time, moaning a little too as he let the tip of his tongue enter you for just a moment. You whined, pulling his hair hard and trying to spread your legs even further, and Namjoon stopped, humming softly as he turned his head and kissed your thigh.

“I love you so fucking much,” Namjoon murmured against your skin, kissing you there again. “Your pussy’s so pretty, my love. So soft and wet for me.”

“Joonie,” you sighed, stroking his hair. You could feel his smile against your thigh, and it made you smile, too. You felt warm, like you were glowing from his love.

Namjoon turned his head back and dipped his tongue into you again, this time further, like he was trying to see how far he could go. His lips sucked at your entrance as his tongue flicked in and out, not fast enough to get you off, but not slow, either. He moved his tongue like he was trying to drink you, lapping you up, bringing your wetness into his mouth and down his throat.

You moaned loudly for him, pulling his face harder against you by his hair, and he reached up and grabbed one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours over one of your thighs.

He moved his mouth up to your clit, drawing random shapes over it with the tip of his tongue lazily while he curled two fingers into you. He moved clumsily, like he wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing but just wanted to make you feel good, and what he was doing was definitely working. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in eagerness and love, and when he moaned around your clit, and you nearly screamed.

“Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck. God, your mouth is… mmm, god, you’re so fucking good, that feels so good, Joonie, Joonie–” You cut yourself off with a long, agonized cry as Namjoon sucked your clit into his mouth hard, swirling his tongue around it as he suctioned his mouth and moved his fingers inside you faster. You repeated a chorus of nothing but his name between breathy moans as you held onto his hair with your free hand, your other hand squeezing his.

You gasped when you came, your whole body tensing as you saw stars and every nerve in your body exploded in pleasure. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream as you failed to breathe, your lungs tightening and your orgasm only building and building as Namjoon kept moving his tongue and fingers. You felt like you were floating in space, millions of stars around you all bursting at once, the entire universe stopping for you and Namjoon and the love you felt for each other.

After a moment, you took in a shaky breath, trying to recover while your mind was still mush. Namjoon was still moving his mouth on you, now licking up your wetness at your entrance and moaning to himself at the taste. If he kept that up, you were going to come again, and soon.

You moaned, pulling on his hair enough for him to look up at you, not stopping what his mouth was doing. You pleaded with your eyes, whimpering and pulling his hair again, and he put his lips to your entrance one last time, this time spreading his lips as wide as possible and sucking as he slowly closed his mouth. You gasped and almost screamed at the sensation of him actually drinking you, desperate to taste you.

Your second orgasm was smaller, making you shudder and gasp for just a moment before steadily breathing deeply as you tried to recover again. You looked down at him, barely able to lift your head; Namjoon was kissing your thigh, your hips, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as he slowly worked his way up your stomach. You could see how hard he was, his precum glistening on the head of his cock as it bounced against his stomach with his movements.

You started to reach down to grasp him, but he gently stopped you, bringing your hand back up by your head and lacing his fingers with yours. He kissed your collarbone, leaving a trail of wet kiss spots all over your body, your own wetness in the shape of his lips and chin.

“Please, Joonie,” you hummed, and he came back to you, kissing your lips slowly and letting you taste yourself on him. You wrapped your legs around him tightly as he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when you felt the head of his cock against your folds, gasping when he started slowly sliding into you, every amazing inch of him filling and stretching you.

Namjoon buried his face in your neck, the length of his nose pressed against the curve of your jaw. He turned his head enough to kiss your neck, feeling your rapid, heavy pulse with his lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, not opening his eyes. “So fucking tight and wet for me, my angel, my princess, my heart, my love. I love you so fucking much.” He kissed your neck again gently before pushing all the way into you and bottoming out, the stretch so wonderfully tight and full. You cried out, spreading your legs further and higher for him, grabbing at his shoulders, scraping your fingernails down his back as he filled you up so completely.

Namjoon pulled out slowly and then pushed in again, rocking into you. You were desperate, nearly delirious and just about ready to cry if he didn’t start moving faster. He seemed to just barely be holding on by a thread, his own orgasm already one sudden movement away from overwhelming him.

“God, Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck,” you cried, close to actually in tears now. You started to say something else but it turned into a small whimper as he thrust into you again, hard.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, “I love you so much, Y/N…” Your name turned into a long moan as he began his slow, torturous pace, both of you so close to the edge already. You didn’t know how he was possibly going so slow still, other than the fact he must want to torture you.

“Go faster, please,” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders as tight as you could and digging in your fingernails. “I need you so bad, Joonie. God, fuck me, please…”

“I love you, angel,” he said, kissing your shoulder. He picked up the pace a little, but it wasn’t enough. “I love you, baby, I love you so much. I love you, I love you–”

“Go fucking faster, now, please…” you sobbed, pulling his hair, making him hiss in pain, but he listened, reaching down and holding your hip with one hand as he started pounding into you, the force of it making the bed creak and your breasts bounce with each quick, powerful thrust. You were long past gone, moaning loudly with each exhale, and Namjoon groaned and grunted, his head against your shoulder as the two of you moved together, you rolling your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.

Namjoon broke first. His orgasm hit him suddenly and he tried to keep moving, his thrusts sloppy, erratic, and uneven as he spilled into you, his mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut. He let out a long groan until he ran out of air, and then he didn’t inhale again until he finished, suddenly and harshly gasping in again, his whole body shaking in your arms.

He reached down and rubbed your clit furiously, and you only lasted a few seconds before you gasped too, clenching around his still half-hard erection inside you, which only made him groan in overstimulation as you squeezed and spasmed around him, gasping nothing but his name and feeling nothing but him, your love, your Namjoon.

Namjoon somehow managed to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. He moved to the side enough to fall beside you, one of his legs still between your thighs as he laid on his stomach, slightly turned in toward you. His hand moved up to cup and stroke your cheek as he lazily kissed your shoulder.

“I love you too, Joonie,” you said between shaky breaths, your vision almost blurry from lust and exhaustion and a dumb happy smile on your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

X.

You laid there for a little while together before you eventually went another round, this time as slow as Namjoon had wanted to go the first time.

When you came this time, your orgasm had to have lasted at least five full minutes (or at least, it felt like that) as Namjoon kept moving in and out of you, keeping up his steady, slow, overwhelming movements that left you delirious with his cock inside you, his thumb on your clit, and his lips on yours, breathing in every moan of his name.

After you both laid there a while again, lazy in post coital haze, you eventually got up and went to your room’s personal little bathroom, where you turned on the tiny shower and let it warm up. You stood there feeling the water’s temperature with your hand while Namjoon stood behind you, arms wrapped around you and lips on your neck. It was like he couldn’t go more than a few minutes without saying “I love you,” not that you were complaining.

You showered together, Namjoon standing behind you the whole time and washing your body for you. He massaged your breasts, hands sudsy as the warm water fell down over them as he kissed your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. One of his hands fell down to your folds, stroking you slowly as his other hand moved to your breast, arm wrapping around you so that his forearm could also press against your nipple, stimulating and touching both of your breasts at once.

Namjoon slid two fingers into you as he kissed your temple. You could feel him hard against your ass, and that feeling made your eyes flutter.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you, pleasing you, making love to you,” he murmured into your hair. You responded with an agonized moan, reaching back and holding onto his shoulder for support. “I’ve wanted you like this since we first met. I dreamed about eating your perfect little pussy so many times, doing exactly this to you, feeling you squeeze my cock like you did earlier when you came so prettily. You’re better than anything I ever could’ve imagined though, baby. Your pussy tastes like heaven and feels even better. You’re so fucking perfect, princess, I love you so much, more than my heart can bare.”

You felt like he had to be bending you over slightly, his firm chest against your back. You swore you could actually feel his cock throbbing.

“I need you,” you moaned, your eyes closed as you felt nothing but his hands.

“I’m here,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I’m here, angel. I love you.”

“Need you inside me,” you said, spreading your legs to stand with your feet braced wider apart. “I love you, too, Joonie. Please…”

Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice. Hooking his arm around your waist for support, he bent you both over a little more, sliding into you from behind in one smooth motion. You cried out in ecstasy, he felt so good and big and yours.

It was fast and sloppy; he hugged you against him with both arms while you braced yourself on the tile wall in front of you. The sound of skin smacking against wet skin, his hips hitting your ass coupled with both your quiet moans and the wet squelching of him moving hard and fast inside you, echoing off the tile walls with the sound of the running water. He filled you so perfectly, stretched you out so far, you felt like he was fucking up into your guts, so hard and deep and good.

You came at the same time, Namjoon groaning and squeezing you harder as your eyes rolled back in your head.

When you’d both recovered some, you stood there under the water, still in the same position. You both knew base rules about wasting water, so you needed to wrap this up, but neither of you wanted to move.

You eventually got out and dried off, both of you getting ready for bed with the toiletries provided by the base. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you the whole time though, so the whole process probably took three times longer than it should’ve.

When you both finished, he pulled you to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you, his hands spreading out on your bare back. Namjoon’s tongue slowly swirled with yours as he let out a small, contented hum, and he wrapped your legs up around his body, supporting you with one hand on your back and the other on your thigh.

Namjoon walked to your bed, carrying you, and laid down with you on top of him. You didn’t end up going another round, but you kissed for a while until eventually you started to move off of him to sleep beside him. Namjoon, though, held you there on top of him, keeping you there.

He murmured a soft little “please,” stroking your back gently, begging you to stay where you were on top of him. You laid back down and kissed right over his heart, before turning your head and resting your cheek on his chest, nuzzling in against him to sleep as he pulled the sheets up around you both.

You were safe in his arms. The world around you didn’t matter; not the people down the hall, not anything outside the base, none of it. The whole universe was just you and Namjoon in this bed, and nothing else existed. He was yours, and you were his.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| kismet | j.jh | part one

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+ welps

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: happy new year ✨ and you know what that means? *wink wink* new layout for my oneshots hihi! ok you guys this took soooooo long to write ;-; i wasn’t satisfied with the first draft so i had to reboot everything! and i mean everything!! :3 so i had this specific genre in mind for a long time and i’m glad that someone requested at the same time while i was in the progress of writing it~ i should’ve posted this on christmas day but i was spending time with my family :D hope you understand hihihi anyway i’ll stop this here so you can enjoy reading! ~j

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| part two | part three (final) |

jaehyun never reacted so quickly in his entire life, simultaneously spitting out the drink he consumed and eyes growing at the news his parents suddenly brought up. his neck ache at sudden twist. “what did you say?” he wiped the drips of coffee at the corners of his lips. his breathing intensified the more the silence passed.

mr. and mrs. jeong playfully sighed & exchanged looks as their son shouldn’t be this surprised regarding the topic. they have discussed about this when he turned eighteen. now twenty-three, he shouldn’t be so surprised or over-reactive about it either. 

“you heard your father,” mrs. jeong chewed her meal elegantly, yet giggles were still heard through closed lips. “you’re meeting her next week.”

he squinted with plenty of doubts filling his head, he was sure that there was still a year left. and to him that also meant he has exactly a year to convince his parents to call off the marriage he never asked for, let alone planned it. he still has a lot- correction, have yet to achieve in his mid-twenties and having a wife now would be slightly cutting his privacy short. 

in other words, the path to leisure he wished for after years of academics would divert to spending a life planned out for him. he had a diary and planner, and 

they were organised and well-thought out. but he had enough of his parents writing out his future for him, why couldn’t he write his own love story?

jaehyun was on his second last year of veterinary medicine, having some of the weight and pressure of academics lifted off his shoulders. of course he knew he still has to study, he just felt a little relaxed knowing that he would soon practice his dream career.

never had he expected that time flew and was going to meet his fiancé soon. 

his phone blinked with along with a message from his friends— mark and johnny. he briefly looked at the wallpaper of his long-time girlfriend of four years; she was the one who was on his mind. “nononono, i can’t get married now.” jaehyun’s panicking voice echoed the dining area, shoving the phone into his pockets.

mr. jeong raised a brow, placing his cup of coffee on the glass table. “relax, you’re not putting a ring on her finger yet.”

“‘yet’?!” the dimples on his face deepened as his cheeks bubbled. “mom, dad, i haven’t even met her!”

“hm? that’s why you’re spending the whole month at the countryside!” mrs. jeong exclaimed excitingly, and to jaehyun it seemed she was enjoying herself as if she were the one going there too.

“a month?! what am i going to do over there?!” 

“isn’t this great? we finally get to see you outdoors instead of a laptop and report papers! you need a break honey.” his mother clasped palms.

“ugh i can manage my time—”

“once you start working i’m pretty sure you won’t have the time to, jaehyun.”

since the love topic was brought up, his parents started to dig out their memories during their dating years. jaehyun groaned and massaged his temples, feeling uncomfortable with all the love stories he already heard or been told about. “did you forget that i have a girlfriend?” mumbling, he let out a deep, long sigh hoping they would hear him. and that failed miserably. his parents were in their own world. 

he shook his leg underneath the table and grew impatient with the duration of their conversation. “please, i’m begging you. i’ll get married in my own time and pace. sue and i are pretty much going to settle once we graduate-”

a certain ringtone perked his ears and his hands quickly pat his pockets to search his phone. he let out a sigh of relief, that his girlfriend psychologically read his mind and knew how much he wanted to get out of the dinner table, not to mention his parents’ overly attachment to one another. 

“sue you called! i was wondering if you want to hang out for a while.” his voice was high in spirits. but word has it when it reached its high, it would plummet to the ground shortly after. “hey, what’s wrong?” 

on the other line, just a call away from his girlfriend, was her held-in sob and whimper. “where are you right now? i’m coming to get you.”

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jaehyun’s limbs shook in anger and slammed his fists onto the stirring wheel so hard that this time he promised himself he would move on. last week, she didn’t just break up with him— that was a call for farewell, something kept well hidden from him and all this time he didn’t know she felt the way she did for the years they’ve spent together. 

for a minute he wished this was all a dream, that conscious world would wake his slumber mind. it wasn’t. the reality pretty much awoke him and kept him up all night. he blinked several times, her words still numbing his hearing, wishing it was a lie... but he heard her loud and clear that night. 

“...you’ll always have a place in my heart.. but i’m really sorry..”

he grew speechless though his heart had millions of questions. the windows of his lips sealed closed no matter how much he wanted them to be answered. opposite from where he was at, he stared at the porch of her house, waiting for a silhouette to appear before him. instead a luxurious car pulled over and an unfamiliar man took his coat off to wrap around sue. that action didn’t hurt jaehyun, but it was sue’s smile of comfort that triggered his pain more. seemed like she knew this man given that she let him into her house, like nothing heartbreaking happened before this. 

the door closed and jaehyun’s teary eyes never left her residence until loud slams of swinging car doors opened on both sides of the passenger’s seats. “tsk.” he hissed and quickly rubbed the tears meaning to fall. him being seen crying would really make him a target for his friends, for not moving on. couldn’t risk being the attention more than he already was.

“goodness mark it’s not like we’re on vacation that you have to pack almost everything,” johnny threw one of mark’s duffle bags at the boy, earning a so-what kind of look from him. “we’ll only bring jae to the y/l/n’s then leave afterwards—”

screw this, jaehyun thought. by now he shouldn’t look too swollen to his friends. but screw mark for renting and living across from his ex’s house. 

“save your explanation john.” jaehyun growled and started the engine, fastening his while seatbelt the two continued their bickers. more of it was mark’s shallowness that pissed johnny.

“yeah, save your explanation john- ow!” mark gave the tall lad a death-gazing glare at the pain that stayed on his skin.

johnny leaned forwards, tapping the dimpled boy on the shoulder. “dude, you changed your mind?”

jaehyun scoffed, resting his left arm onto the window’s edge as he drove. “mom said i should be accompanied. i didn’t want you both to come but she’s so insisting it’s getting into my nerves.” 

“actually mrs. jeong said you might need us after your sudden breakup,” mark pressed the button. the window rolled up and down whereas him and johnny exchanged looks to try to liven up the mood in the car. “what are friends for, hm?”

“o-oh yeah. you’ll need us.. as in.. ‘sue’pport.” he nodded with a fake sob. soon mark bursted out in giggles and joined the wagon. 

“‘cause you lost your ‘sue’weetheart.” “she’s making you ‘sue’per emotional.” “we were ‘sue’prised she dumped you.” “but as your brothers, we ‘sue’wear we’ll be here—”

“ugh! i don’t know why mom suggested you to come but your side comments really aren’t helping at all—” jaehyun rolled his eyes regretting instantly at the pain afterwards.

his friends found him hilarious. they were laughing so hard that jaehyun couldn’t continue or interrupt their exploding voices. “since when did you need help, mr. leave-me-alone?” johnny took a huge leap from his seat to be beside the offended boy. “for all i know you’re the type who wants everything perfect, in control and planned.”

“nah dude, right now..” mark zipped his bag. “he needs help with love issues.”

“this has nothing to do with my love! and for the record, about the y/f/n’s? it’s arranged!” he lowered his cap and slid back slightly against the seat while the car was on idle. “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“that can change dude,” johnny slurped on his giant soda takeaway. jaehyun battered his eyes but was careful enough to not leave his sight off of the road. “who knows this fiancé of yours could meet your expectations. maybe more than sue could ever do.”

jaehyun’s mind clouded and still had the effects from the breakup. still so fresh. he didn’t want to believe it in fact happened; that it was all true. he was sure sue was the one for him. hearing his pals say it word per word only had it finally sunk in— she dumped him.

it terrified him in ways he couldn’t imagine, haunted him countless of nights because he failed her. he even bragged to his parents that he would marry her and slip a ring on her finger. thinking about it, how stupid was he to hold onto that hope?

he looked like an idiot, felt like one and his friends probably viewed the same. they said his fiancé could outstand sue? she was the perfect package! what more could he get?

he had her.

honks of the vehicles behind led jaehyun’s eyes trailing to the stoplight that emitted green. he pulled over and johnny knew he had to take his place. 

“here, let me drive. you’re not fit for driving. now, just be comfy back there, okay?”

—

hours later violent jolts of the car hit jaehyun’s cheek, regaining consciousness from his slumber just to witness the beautiful sunrise peeking from the horizon. he sat up, his posture trying to straighten to denumb nerves that held long during his sleep.

his playlist blasted the speakers. johnny had his legs on the dashboard and hummed with the music. mark was still sleeping peacefully like he hadn’t had a care in the world other than his precious bag of unfinished chips in his hands. 

he groaned at the discomfort of pulled muscles and the sudden break to the countryside. if johnny needed an hour intervals for the drive he could’ve said so, right? but now they were at the open road, greenery and fields merging together in one land. 

“what time is it? where are we and are we there yet? i’ll drive if what you do delays the journey.” jaehyun gestured him to move aside. “johnny, stop eating.” it was quarter to two.

“wha-? i’m hungry. hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to come and yet you’re rushing to get to the y/l/n’s?” johnny unwrapped his second burrito. “besides, we’re only five minutes away—”

“tsk ‘cause i need to piss real bad.” jaehyun was fidgety and panned the view before setting eyes on his friend. 

johnny felt a churn in his stomach as his cheeks bubbled. “oh gross! i’m eating dude! if you’re gonna piss then do it outside?!”

jaehyun shoved the burrito into johnny’s mouth to not speak anymore. “rather hold it in than for you to puke in my car!” he held his strength while johnny fought his way to breathe properly. “i won’t piss outside and there are cattles who feed on fields!”

“bruh stop lecturing me with your vet knowledge- ah!” johnny held his forehead from the sudden finger flicking.

“dude, it’s called common sense. now move aside!” he shooed the tall boy off the driver’s seat. jaehyun stepped on the gas, heading towards a small town entrance.

they finally reached a couple of stores & restaurants, surveying and asking its townsmen using your family name to locate your residence. maybe they would know which apartment or house you resided in. except that was the twist of their understanding. 

jaehyun and his boys were shocked to know how your family name plastered in posters and brand products displayed at open stores, but were more shocked to see the gazes from the people. 

a little over an hour, they managed to get hold of more information as they were told your house was ten minutes away from the town. jaehyun walked along the pavement to grab something to drink, only to be poked by a young man who was around the same age as they were.  

“hi.” he greeted the unfamiliar man. “i take it you’re looking for the y/l/n’s?”

he took a squint as he observed jaehyun from head to toe, circling around him. “uh-huh, you look like m’lady’s husband-to-be in the pictures.”

“e-excuse me?” jaehyun cleared his throat, seemingly unwilling to have this conversation going.

mark held his laugh per usual, it would take time to get used to jaehyun stumbling his words. 

because the engaged man really wasn’t ready at all. 

“yeap he’s the guy.” johnny popped the ‘p’ with a lollipop in his mouth. jaehyun rolled his eyes, taking the candy stick and tossing it away. he didn’t care about johnny’s scoffs.

the new young lad wore his motorcycle helmet. “sweet.” he prolonged the word. and that was when both mark and johnny lost it. they recalled the pun they entertain themselves with prior to arriving here.

“oh, i work with the town’s famous family,” he showed his i.d. wrapped around his neck. “you can follow me since i’m heading there too.” the three quickly twitched at his quick paced movement. “i’m kunhang by the way, but i’d rather be called hendery. it’s my professional name, it just sounds cooler.”

jaehyun furrowed his brows at the praise. “okay hendery, uhm famous? they’re big time?” he pointed at the posters holding your family name. “how so?”

hendery swung his face shield downwards. “you’ll see.”

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gallops of horses were drumming the entire farm. dust and dirt swirled with the wind in the air and it took a while for the boys to adjust their sights at the distance. hendery dropped a couple of spare boots for them to wear. jaehyun was in awe. horses were majestic animals and though he got to study them, he never seen such a number of them on the fields.

“oh goodness me our guest is here!”

they turned around to voice of a jolly lady, an apron on and folded cuffs from her clothing. “hello there! welcome! you must be jaehyun! my soon to be son-in-law!” she shook his hands and later pulled him for a hug. “oh you look just like your mother!”

“hi mrs. y/l/n. y-yeah, i get that a lot these days,” jaehyun scratched his head. “thanks for having us.” 

her eyes trailed at mark and johnny, and they too, were pulled in for a hug. “i see jaehyun brought along his handsome friends with him! do enjoy your stay here with us!” she caught a glimpse of a figure approaching the crowd. “c’mere baby and meet the boys!”

jaehyun looked over his shoulder, lips parting and exhaled a short breath. she seemed young, she has a pretty face but obviously still in high school. what the? oh g- i’m marrying you?

“pfft no ew. i’m not getting married to you. i’m only 17.” she let out a chuckle, almost sarcastic enough for jaehyun to explode.

crap i said it unconsciously.

your mother lightly slapped her arm. “marg, where’s your sister?” she asked. “i told her to specifically come at the barn 1600.”

“she took jet for a ride. ‘detour’ she said, but i guess she’s on her way here.” she replied and mark choked on his water bottle. marg rolled her eyes. “green minded ass-”

“language marg!” hendery flicked her forehead, the latter held the pain. “the rudeness. sorry, kiddo here is the family’s baby. you’ll see the eldest daughter soon- oh! right on time m’lady!” he waved his hands up high.

jaehyun didn’t know what pissed him off more; one was at himself for being starstruck and in awe at you after his breakup, and two? 

the beautiful black horse you were riding on didn’t seem to be halting. it was trotting at first. you were on its saddle. he squinted his eyes, were you smirking? unbelievable. he thought you were doing this on purpose. no, you were really going to run him over. 

he noticed a change in speed, trotting then galloping on dirt. the sounds of it matched with the beatings of his rising heart. jaehyun took a step back, then it became more than one, until he was worried that he would end up being chased. there were couple of gasps and reminders of voices. he fell on his bum with palms hitting the ground as he breathed heavily, eyes still on you.

the horse listened to your rein, it let out a loud neigh with its front legs heavenwards. your laugh merged with it. “whoa- hey, easy jet, easy.” you cooed the animal, soon removing your helmet and hair flowed like those in shampoo commercials. “i think he got the message.”

jaehyun sat there dumbfounded, his brows drew together. what message? you were centimetres from killing him- wait. he saw you turn cold and your smile disappearing.

bingo! he got it. he knew the reason why you did this. 

you were against the arranged marriage too.

johnny leaned into mark’s ear, who had his hands cupping his lower face. “bro, jet’s a horse so stop giggling and clean your mind.” 

“dude i’m not laughing at that. just look at jae. i’ve never seen him so helpless.” he cackled a laugh. 

once your feet were on the ground, he finally got a better look on you. you were wearing a light wooled grey sweater with denim blue jeans. your hair now on one side and boots stained with dried mud. you took off your gloves to put your hand out for a handshake, one rested around your helmet. “hi, i’m y/n.” you greeted with a smile, ensuring it was fake enough for jaehyun to notice. 

“quite of an entrance.” jaehyun dusted his jeans and groaned at the exerted strength as he stood. “jeong jaehyun. veterinary medicine student..” he was about to grab your hand until you shoved yours into the pockets of your jeans. 

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed with warning. “your manners-” she clamped her lips when you put up a hand, eyes darting at her later at him.

“alright, okay. look mr. i didn’t ask for your field of study and i don’t need to know or do anything with you.”

jaehyun crossed his arms, a fake smile plastered on his face. what an attitude. “apparently you will? because i’m here for the next thirty days.”

“is that so?” you hummed and jaehyun didn’t like how you singsonged.

he knew something was coming and sometimes he thought it was best to keep quiet instead of letting his annoyance towards you spark up. “good, that means you’re helping me out with everything i do here.” he heard you say. “and do things i tell you to.”

“what?” his eyebrows snapped, and for you it was quite entertaining to see this reaction from him. following the trail of your footsteps, jaehyun stomped on wet soil as he stood before you. “hey you can’t just order me around like i’m your staff!”

“of course i can, you’re in my property-” you gestured the land.

“no, it belongs to your parents.” the tone of his voice irked you. he was grinning too.

“i can do whatever i want and choose whenever to help. i’ll only listen orders from mr. and mrs. y/l/n if they want me to do work..” he trailed off, your mother waving at him with admiration— typical as she saw him like an long lost son. “..but i guess not. my mom did say i needed a break from studying too much and she’s totally right. i must be pardoned from labour.”

it was your turn to cross arms and give him a lop-sided smile. the audacity of this man. you felt like ripping all your hair out. “you think staying here would prevent you from doing labour, your highness? sitting on your throne all dignified and at peace? well guess what, just because you’re a guest that doesn’t mean you get to be treated differently-”

you heard him bubble out a forced snicker. what was it this time? “of course it’s different! i am the guy you’re betrothed to-”

“i won’t allow it.” your jaw tightened with lips in a hard line. “a person like you is not worth my time and definitely not someone i’d want to marry.”

he pursed his lips. “wow do people ever tell you how bad of a host you are? you just don’t go shoving assumptions into people’s faces for your own entertainment. we’re humans.”

“i’m only rude to you. and yeah, people are humans. but you’re the devil’s incarnate.” you pulled jet’s reins and led him to the stables in which jaehyun observed how you gave that same smirk from earlier. “see if you’ll enjoy your stay here, hubby.” 

jaehyun clenched his fists and was sure little crescent moons already indented his palms. he only wanted sue to call him that. yet that was useless, they broke up. your face remained in his head and anger filled him up, now boiling so much that he felt a little lightheaded arguing with someone like you. 

he wanted to yell but johnny and mark sandwiched him between them with hendery walking in front. “tsk it’s only the first day and i want to go home.” he scrunched his nose. 

hendery had his palms behind his head, lips jutting to hold his grin. “m’lady—” he corrected himself. “y/n’s not usually like that. it’s a first seeing her so cranky and hotheaded.”

“really? how is she usually like?” mark asked with curiosity. “she seems cool because she smiled at johnny and me before the tables.. y’know, turned.” he shrugged with implications towards jaehyun.

“not cranky and not hotheaded.” hendery opened the door to your house, showing them to the large living area. “a lil’ different today but i tell you, our y/n is a professional equestrian. she’s passionate with what she does and—”

“a horse rider?! passionate?!” jaehyun hissed as he took off his shoes and brown coat, kicking it slightly to the side and hung it on the wall respectively. “she almost killed me!”

johnny hit the back of jaehyun’s head and clicked his tongue. “snap out of it jae, you’re overreacting. we’re at your future in-law’s residence and i think it’s a bad idea to badmouth their daughter.” 

only a low groan escaped out of jaehyun as he refused to listen. “look, first impressions don’t always hit off a good start. but thinking how you both don’t have a say to this arranged marriage, your feelings towards each other are totally understandable.”

jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose as he took in his friend’s words. if what johnny said was true, was it right for him to begin holding grudge on you on the first day? you barely knew each other. clearly he knew you hated him, yet if his parents were here and saw the whole thing, they’d ask: why risk the chance of not trying? and again, he remembered he was told, people can change. 

—

throughout dinner, he got to know what your family business was and why it was well-known. he didn’t ask questions, they were just told to him like they were comfortable with it. they weren’t bragging either. perhaps it was due to the fact jaehyun would soon be part of this family that they told him the entire story. 

you didn’t show up during the hour and honestly it got jaehyun feeling so much relief since he wouldn’t have to deal with another useless argument. he disliked wasting time and preferred to do this schedule accordingly, so remembering it only made him rage inside. he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight. 

except that relief was shortlived. you had to appear right when he thought of you.

great.

he tried to fix himself in his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, averting his gaze upon you while your mother continuously slapped you light on the arms. you probably finished your bath, given that you still have a towel wrapped around your head and a.. robe.

“y/n! have some courtesy! we have guests!” your mother warned as she gestured in front to cover you, apologising to the new boys. hendery immediately stepped in as well, his eyes shutting to a close and pushing you back to the bottom of the staircase. 

“but mom! i’m hungry and there might not have any cookies left if you keep giving it to them-” you were cut off with hendery’s pats.

he brushed his hair. sighing, he had to shoo you away because you were clearly attracting eyes, definitely not the decent kind. “i have a jar prepared for you m’lady so please.. get dressed!”

you quickly ran up as you were told, mumbling and complaining. jaehyun and his friends were definitely at a loss for words. because not only were you careless, you were oblivious too. 

mark scrunched his nose to start a conversation with jaehyun. “looks like she called you ‘hubby’ too quickly.” he closed his lips to contain his laugh. 

“pfft jae your ears really are honest huh?” johnny pointed at them as he held his chest, fistbumping mark for another win. 

he wasn’t going to tell them that he in fact did find you pretty, and the thing was, he shouldn’t be giving a reaction too soon. “it’s the spicy chocolate cookie!” jaehyun defended.

“huh, i didn’t bake any cookie with those flavour-” hendery pondered, but he stopped since he spotted jaehyun begging to help him here.

“you know that we know if you’re lying right?” the two squinted eyes, putting more pressure to the boy to admit what he felt when he saw you earlier. “bet ya felt something.”

afraid that your family could hear them, jaehyun grabbed their shoulders to huddle them in close. he cleared his throat to catch their attention, yet his friends continued their giggles. “i swear if you both embarrass me in front of the y/f/n’s, consider the days with your precious.. phones.”

“ah c’mon dude. don’t do that. we bought our i12’s together-” mark whined.

“then at least help me out here guys. i have a reputation to hold-” 

“oh for being her hubby?” johnny gave a playful grin and soon was replaced with a nervous smile. “okay i’ll zip it.”

he heard your mother facetiming his mom, voices loud enough for him to know that there would be a huge gathering at christmas eve dinner. great, another one i have to deal with.

jaehyun put down his beanie and crossed his arms to snooze for a bit. he had too much going on in his head the whole day that maybe sleeping it off would let him calm down from all feelings he felt tonight. on the sofa, the weight beside him lowered, the scent of freshly baked cookies along with lavender perfume got him peeking under his beanie. 

it was you, who looked like a squirrel happily munching away with your jar of cookies whilst eyes glued to the television.

he smiled a little to himself. so you can have this cute side-

fragments of sue’s face appeared in his mind. right. he was supposed to be heartbroken. he still was. a week into the breakup had remains to his heart. bothered with sue’s ultimatum and your annoying munches, he grabbed your wrists and out at the veranda.

it pissed him because it seemed like he was the only one who cared about both of your futures or actually would do something to change your families’ minds, where as you were carefree with your cookies. “hey!” you held the jar tight in your arms as you quickly slid your feet into your slippers. “rude! i’m eating!”

the rest of the people in the dining and kitchen area grew voices of woohoo’s, jaehyun’s pupils flared at their cheers. “just come with me for a second!” he hissed, turning the knob and closing the door.

“seriously jaehyun you can’t just ruin my happy time! what do you want-”

he looked in between the curtains from the outside, where he could faintly hear his friends talking the embarrassing things about him— especially how he felt for this arrange marriage. “aren’t you pressured or angry at the situation our parents have put us into?” he leaned against a column. “even my friends are joining the wagon.”

you cackled whilst scrolling your phone. “here i thought you only cared about animals, dr. jeong.” hearing how jaehyun scoffed at your comment, you shoved your device in your pockets. “and yes of course i’m mad! what they decided is so against my will.”

jaehyun stared at you and surprised that he actually felt exactly the same. “really? then let’s make a pact. sounds good?” he offered with arms folded while you still were occupied with your phone. “well?”

“why would i listen to you? as far as i know, we already clashed and hate each other.” you rolled your eyes. “what makes you think i’ll agree?”

he sighed. “y/n, i know you don’t want this, i don’t too. at least there’s something we have in common. i’m just thinking that we have to show them we’re not meant to be together. we both have lives we want to live without the other.”

there was a change in his voice. you could tell he was serious and trying to suggest something he’d want you to agree on. “fine, what’s the pact?” you gave an uninterested tone. probably a bad idea, you thought.

“like you said, ‘clash and hate each other’. we have exactly twenty four days to convince them that you, me, us?” he pointed at his chest then yours. “is impossible. twenty four days, it’s until the night of christmas eve.”

actually that’s not bad at all. “hm, that’s easy since i can’t stand you.” you said, now standing up to face him. “even better if we can do this in less than 24.”

“cool, we have to make our fights as natural as possible. no signals or heads-up. full-on make me angry and i’ll do the same. the more we argue the more they’ll believe there’ll never be an ‘us’.” his voice a bit lively than before. “i want my buds to be fooled into this too. just be realistic and- nghf!”

you shoved a huge cookie into his mouth. “tsk, you’re noisy. i get you so shut up. i agreed with the pact, but i have conditions, okay?”

jaehyun nodded as he chewed angrily with his eyes closed, though the cookies’ taste might’ve simmered down his temper towards you. “ha, then i have conditions too-”

“see you in the morning.” he heard you say as the door slammed with the attached bell ringing his ears. 

now that was one of his conditions; no interrupting while he talks. he sighed seeing you head up the stairs. he sighed. “ugh, i can never marry a girl like her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

stretching as high as you can, the muscles loosened in every part of your body from riding yesterday. the sun shone its brightest despite the cold weather. you remembered the pact and you knew you would not let a day pass without bothering him. somehow his existence annoyed you to the bone, not even words were enough to explain how you felt. 

at the farthest point your peripheral could reach, you spotted jaehyun peacefully— and actually enjoying— the hammock whilst faintly you heard mark and johnny debating which pronunciation was the correct one. fixing your boots as you walked towards them, the two scurried off to the side, noticing the stomps of your feet getting closer. 

“get up.” you wriggled the hammock, causing it to be lop-sided. 

jaehyun managed to balance himself from the swings. “what the-” his voice hitched. “you’re ruining my relax time!”

you pretended to ponder as you looked up to the sky. “hm, sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” referring to his sudden action towards you the night prior.

“seriously y/n what do you want? i’m in no mood to do work today and i clearly told you last night-” jaehyun fixed his eyes onto your finger that silenced his lips.

jaehyun raised a brow and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? he thought. “condition number one.” you started, bringing your voice down. “starting today you’ll do the work for me and with me. considering you’re taking veterinary science, i’m guessing you know your ways through equine husbandry. so in the coming days you can check the horses’ health while i practice my rounds.”

ah, so that’s what this was about. “uh-huh, but my condition number one is you shouldn’t make me do labour unless you really need it.” jaehyun got off the hammock, chugging his glass of water like it’s one-shot. “it’s the first light, y/n. my service starts in the afternoon.”

“i see. you’re not a morning person.” you checked your nails.

“i so am! but it’s my month long vacation. let me enjoy this before i experience exploitation from you.” he forced a smile that made you want to push him off the veranda.

you walked down the steps and straight to the barn opposite from your house. “it’s either exploitation today or exploitation for the whole month.” you singsonged while you twirled in your stance. hearing him growl meant your tactic worked. “i’ll let you experience the beauty of country side, city boy.”

jaehyun’s brows narrowed as he followed you anyway, later looking back at his friends who were stifling a laugh. “did you just compare me to feces first thing in the morning?”

“did you just boggle up my brain with scientific terms?” you hid a giggle when you heard his friends finally bursting out and losing it. because they too, experienced jaehyun’s sudden blabber of uncommon usage of words, especially conversational-wise. “i made a pun but it seems like you acknowledge the nickname.”

“i did not!” jaehyun pressed his temples. “i may have misheard you but i didn’t acknowledge it! you’re too assuming!”

“mhm sure.. but you are stepping on one though.” you whistled and gestured mark and johnny to the stables.

jaehyun grumbled as he checked the soles of his shoes. indeed he stepped on it and licked his lips in annoyance that it’d be hard to clean it off. the door opened and hendery’s morning face only turned sour at the unsightly view. he tossed another pair of spare boots for him to wear before they both headed to where you all were. 

hendery introduced the things they do here; feed the horses, fix their saddles  repair them if damaged. they were minor things since your family did hire people to do them. and since you and him were professionals in equine sports, he mentioned you both spend all days practicing. 

good, if it was you who toured him around the area, he wouldn’t think lasting a day with your intentions of ruining his mood. though it was part of the pact, it seemed like you enjoyed this a lot more than he expected. hendery brought him to places your family owned, land properties that expanded until the mountains. it’s no wonder you were free to roam around and unafraid of getting lost. 

you made him do a lot. and he was glad he was able to handle, thank heavens. however he didn’t feel much of a challenge from any of them, where you claimed they were ones he couldn’t do. jaehyun lost track of time, the sky was his only companion to tell the hours and probably lost count of the tasks too. all he could remember was the endless bickering, yells and frequent eye rolls. 

in all those, he still let you off the hook— first day of work and all, he has to be patient. and he wasn’t bothered with what you tasked him to do, until his friends stood behind you as you showed them the rest of the horses. 

after you told him to move the bundles of hay he thought was the last, you were currently trying to make mark pet the horses as they were bobbing their heads towards the young man while johnny recorded his reaction. 

“isn’t she all well now.” jaehyun rolled his eyes as he helped hendery lift the infinite bundles. “my friends get the leisure and i have to work?”

hendery laughed as he unbuttoned his collar. “she was told by her mom that you’ll be in her care since you both will get married eventually. plus mrs. y/f/n said it’s a way to get to know y/n too.” he explained, seeing you walk towards them with a hay cart, hands signalling your childhood friend to get some bundles from you. the final bundles were finally fed to the horses, and you skipped your feet to fetch jaehyun.

jaehyun knew you had intentions to make fun of him because the way you walked really pissed him off. so he decided to have his fun too. ”are you that weak you’re unable to carry a small patch? guess my hourly pay needs an increase.” he low-key flexed his muscles. truthfully speaking it was a sight to look at, too bad his attitude didn’t match it.

you rested on one leg while you look at him. he was testing the waters with you, smile slowly resurfacing as you gave even the slightest reaction towards him. oh it’s on. he annoyed you yesterday and would be a lot more in the next coming days. jaehyun leaned forwards that he was towering over you. his body made you feel small but that didn’t stop you from getting back at him.

“the only thing increasing for you is workload.” you hummed, putting back the cart into its place.

he glared at you as if you were dead meat. you ignored him. “i’ve had enough for today. muscles are sore.” hands in his pockets, jaehyun kicked the remains of hay off his shoes before he was stopped by you. “ugh you’re so annoying.” he clicked his tongue. 

“nope, you’re not done until i am. we have to find materials for christmas wreaths at my grandpa’s up north.” you pointed at the mountains as you took hendery’s hands and soon mounted on jet with him.

“oh and i’m supposed to walk there while you’re so relaxed miss bossy?” jaehyun shook his head in disbelief looking at the distance.

“uh yes?” you laughed to yourself. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden a horse before, but if ever you did, it’s probably at a carnival.”

sudden outbursts of emotions evident on his face now. “was i born under a rock? of course i’ve ridden!” he took the reins given to him by hendery. “and it’s not a carousel!”

for a while he had a certain confidence, his soles stepping on the stirrup and dimples deepening with the strength he gave to put his right leg over. but once that was done and high up off the ground, his heart beat an army per second. cash, hendery’s horse gave loud neigh. jaehyun had done this before as a child and definitely felt like one now. he should be able to handle a 30-minute journey.

jaehyun heard you giggling, perhaps he knew how hideous he looked. despite hendery seated behind you, you led the way for the most part of the ride. you were surprised to see jaehyun have gotten the hang of it. it pissed you a lot because he was vlogging with his phone— sputtering out words to keep the diss battle going. johnny and mark hopped on the available bikes, cycling on your sides, and their laughter rather calmed you than annoy you. 

it pissed you a lot more because you’ve practically ran out of ideas to tell him in return. keeping quiet wasn’t your forte, you were a young woman with plenty of things to say, even more so to jaehyun. going through the woods, you signalled hendery to halt the horse for you and the rest of the boys followed you to gather the materials needed. 

“this shouldn’t be too long to take.” jaehyun looked at the trees towering meters above him, then straight to you who was shaking head in disbelief. “we’re just taking the materials at your grandfather’s and head back, right?”

“did i mention my granddad?” you balanced yourself on large wood log. the tone of your voice started to warm up with bickers you weren’t able to tell him. 

“you did!” jaehyun anticipated this and somehow he didn’t. “now lead the way to his place and we can get the hell out of here.” his eyes grew squints of disgust at his surroundings, as if he hadn’t been into the forest before. his friends went on ahead with hendery around the woods to look for what’s needed.

“nah, we’re picking acorns, pine cones, berries and other leaves by hand. his cottage is just around here but that doesn’t mean the materials are from him. let’s go, whiney.” 

“oh my g-” jaehyun pulled you on the arm and off you went towards him. “y/n i’ve had enough for today and i’m so tired of taking your orders- i’m physically tired of doing things your way and i can’t think straight-”

“pecans?” you said as his eyes crossed to see your palms full of the shelled nuts. “you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s why you’re so cranky and agitate-y.” placing one but onto a flat rock, you smashed it strong enough for it to crack yet not totally destroying the inside. you popped one into your mouth and gave the most taunting grin jaehyun has seen from you all day. 

he was about to grab the rest of the nuts until you swung your arm that he wasn’t able to reach them. “y/n! give me some!” he yelled and the rest of your friends look at you both after hearing you laugh in the most evil manner.

“never!” you scurried off deeper into the woods. jaehyun rolled his eyes not at how fast you were, but due to how slow he actually was because of the amount of disgust he had.

he knew this would take all day and he didn’t know how long his patience can take for another three weeks with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun couldn’t describe in words with what he experienced since arriving. if he had to compare with school, it was similar to studying and cramming for hours non-stop. it gotten him mentally exhausted, physically too. but the only difference between being cooping up in his room and doing work outdoors was the continuous nagging from you. 

it was far from quiet. he could handle his mom’s high pitched yells. but you? anything that came from you or done by you made him want to plaster a duck tape on your lips. you were as annoying as a five year old child who looked for someone vulnerable to bully. unfortunately he became your prey because he was in your lands. and though there were times he was able to banter back, he always felt you still had the upper hand.

it was all sunny and good days out in the countryside and jaehyun found that fact the only bright side. he enjoyed it every single morning. yet sometimes good sunny mornings meets its bad, that is, when grey clouds destroyed the beauty of the sky. in this case, it was you. you were far from his dream girl— sue. she was elegant, poised and had a heart of gold. you were the complete opposite who’d rather be rogue and do things your way. other than completing ten christmas wreaths and feeding the horses or more farm work, he couldn’t remember what he did for the past eight days because all that entered his mind was the dictator you. 

but today he felt different, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard than last week. he felt good. he sat at the long dining table with all morning faces exposed. it was currently 7 a.m and your mom have already prepared breakfast. and per usual, you were the only one they waited for before they start the first meal. 

“marg, is your sister still asleep?” your mother put down a large casserole to warm up everyone’s stomach in winter. 

marg only shrugged because for one, she didn’t care, and two, she stated that it wouldn’t be her doing this since jaehyun was marrying you. “oh jaehyun. please do head upstairs to her room and awake y/n up.”

“and why do i have to do this?” jaehyun mumbled to himself and johnny nudged him on the arm. he groaned and got up, his stomps were heavy and unwilling. 

once he was in front of your door, he knocked twice loudly so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time to get you. there was a small tune playing in your room, like it was from a music box. the door was already opened. he peeped through the thin gap, seeing you still sleeping soundly. goodness’ sake, he thought, and entered the room since your mother was asking if he woken you up. 

your room was in fact, neat. all things were organised and arranged. if there was one thing he learned from you other than being an ass, was that you loved stuffed animals. not a hint of dolls or barbies or any toy displayed related to that spectrum. two lines of medals displayed and they all shone in gold. plaques had your names and young portraits of you with smiles of victory. hendery wasn’t lying when he said you were a professional. he wasn’t going to lie— you were impressive despite the little horns coming out of your head.

he stood next to your bed where you were all bundled in a huge blanket. he raised a brow, it was strange for you to have two thick blankets covering you. “hey y/n.”

no response. 

“y/n. wake up, your mom is calling for breakfast and you’re usually the first one seated at the table.” he wriggled your body with the butt of the umbrella and you didn’t budge.

“she baked croissants and aren’t they your favourite? dipped in chocolate ganache and sprinkles?” he tried sounding happy. note that, he tried.

this girl.. he bit the insides of his lips, spotting the markers in a cylinder container and took one to begin drawing on your face. his soft giggles filled your room and the strong scent of markers met your nostrils, waking you from your slumber. 

“what the he- jaehyun?!” you hissed at how close his face was to yours, failed to realising he was done drawing on your morning skin. “get away from me!”

everyone downstairs could hear the both of you, arguing like cats and dogs. each footstep might’ve covered the entire floor above them and the ceiling could give in. 

“you ruined my morning with your ugly face!” “what?! you’re more ugly, ugly!” “you entered my room?! you have no rights!” “breakfast’s ready and your mom asked me to!” “well my nose could’ve smelled mom’s food but i smelled your stinky breath instead!”

“whatever, i finished your share of croissants!” jaehyun quickly head down the staircase.

“you dare eat my food?!” you still had a blanket from head to toe as you followed him down. “no one takes my food!”

“your loss since you’re still in bed you lazy ass!” jaehyun sat beside johnny and continued his meal. “and you were snoring loud too-”

“i did not- agh!” you grumpily sat and immediately eyed the last croissant sitting at the center of the table. all eyes were on you with black ink scribbled on your face. 

there was an awkward silence then you felt jaehyun’s stare at the only food you wanted for breakfast. there was a back and forth battle of stares between you, him and the food. maybe it was the slow reflexes you have in mornings that jaehyun took the bread before you did. he stuck out a tongue as he deliciously ate half of it, chewing slowly just to let you imagine the flavours of sweet silky chocolate. you could feel yourself drooling and the cravings of your stomach rising up to your throat. every chew he did was a stab to your guilty-pleasure heart. 

jaehyun stopped and gave a smug grin. “you wanted this y/n?” his question sounding a song rather than an honest one. “all you have to do is beg.”

you gulped, rolling your eyes. “shut up!” you kicked his knee out of jealousy and savoured the soup instead. 

“ow!” he hissed through a laugh and looked at your mom. “mrs. y/f/n, i’d like to know the recipe for this. do you give lessons?” jaehyun licked the remains of chocolate around his lips, hopefully it was enough to cover up the violence you did under the table.

your mother giggled at his sweet talk. “why learn it from me when you have y/n to teach you?”

you choked on your soup and tear your gaze away from jaehyun to your mother, where she was already enjoying your shocked reaction. “oh give me a private lesson, bulldog terrier.” he propped his chin and mimicked clicks as if he was calling animal.

you quickly touched and rubbed your face to see the ink contaminate your fingers. the spoon reflected the dark circle around your right eye. “oh my g- you! this will be hard to remove!” the fork around your hand pointed directly at him. 

“y/n!” hendery put down your wrists as jaehyun laughed loud. you took the wet wipes marg gave you and whined a little whilst you stood by the mirror behind jaehyun.

“don’t be so bummed out honey.” your mom assured, giving a wink to jaehyun. “it’s a small prank. marg did it to you before.”

checking yourself for the last time at the mirror, you rolled your eyes. “i have enough patience for marg,” with one hand you cupped jaehyun’s lower face from the chin spreading to the cheeks, soon pinching hard on his dimples with a pointer finger and thumb. “but none for the human bread.”

“ow don’t touch me!” jaehyun swifted his head to look at you and he saw you flashed a smile like you were satisfied. 

“a human bread with molds. ew, i lost appetite so i’ll be out for a ride.” you stood up to grab your coat. “see ya ugly.”

“remember to you have to clean the barn house y/n!” your mom called out.

“yeah got that!”

johnny and mark bent their heads down and let their friends suffer from multiple dots on his faces. what made it funnier was that jaehyun munched happily on his meal, hadn’t gotten a single clue. he then eyed you when you passed the window and straight to the stables. “isn’t it too early for practice?” he drank his cup of hot chocolate. 

“she can ride all day. sometimes she doesn’t arrive home and the next morning you see her sleeping in the barn house.” marg tied her hair into a high bun. “the amount of dedication is there, except the passion she used to have isn’t really there anymore- hey!” she glared at hendery who gave her a warning look. 

what was that all about? jaehyun thought while his eyebrows met together and good thing it wasn’t obvious to your family. he was indeed curious, but he’d rather hear it from you than to look like a jerk who wanted to gossip about personal lives. the thing was, it’s you. though majority of the week was him suffering with workload, he liked to bicker with you until you gave up and had nothing to say. 

so far he recorded as 5-11 in terms of owning the other. the latter was his score and he was proud of it.

hendery’s phone vibrated and slid it to jaehyun’s place. jaehyun blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the phone. a sigh came out of his lips and the rest of them could tell it was another order from you. “ooh that doesn’t sound good.” mark slurped his soup. 

“it’s not.” jaehyun brushed his hair and hesitation slowly crept his body. “she asked me to clean the upper floor of the barn by the time she arrives.”

—

jaehyun massaged his wrists by twisting them. he looked at the barn house’ entrance because he noticed a figure approaching. you’ve had the best morning after jaehyun ruined it. as you rode, nothing beats the freshness of the cool wind. you love riding through the woods and grasslands. it sets you free from everything keeping you caged. your smile began to falter when you saw jaehyun who was not even halfway close to finishing. “you’re late. your mom had to apologise on your behalf because i’m doing the job for you.”

“ooh thanks! i’ll count on it!” you laid comfortably on a chair.

“hey!”

you leaned against the furniture, arms crossed where he was a floor above and standing at your 2 o’clock view. “dr. jeong it looks like you’re having a hard time. need help?” you stifled a laugh because he still has the ink marks you left on his face.

“on with the assumptions again, aren’t we?” he fixed his gloves and moved wooden planks from one place to another. 

“yeah you make yourself too easy of a target, jaehyun. and i thought you’re the type to not take things seriously.” you tied jet’s reins to a pole.

“you’re forgetting my condition number two, you can only badmouth me if the others are around. now get your flat butt up here and move the tool box aside so i can continue what i’m doing.” he grunted whilst lifting. 

dusting your pants, you were now standing a storey high. the sight of the height below you made you sick. jaehyun nudged your arm and you took the items blocking his way. you sighed and he noticed how fidgety you were. he put up a small smile. his entertainment from you didn’t end at the breakfast table. 

he scooted closer to you, pretending to bump into you with the pile of tall wooden planks in his arms. he heard you hiss, and that was the signal to begin. “oops didn’t see you there shorty.” there was a change in his voice, a more aggressive type of approach. 

“you’re doing that on purpose.” you checked the pained area of your forearm.

“what if i’m not? it could be an honest mistake.” he tilted his head away from the wood to see you.

a held-in soft disbelief laugh came out of your lips. “honesty doesn’t really blend in well with you.” 

jaehyun gasped with arched brows. “wow i’m very offended— you think this face..” he largely gestured himself. “would ever lie?”

“if you want to hear me saying you’re handsome.. it’s not happening.“ you took the rope to hang on a nail. 

“but you did say it.” he singsonged and you could push him off the loft but that could only happen in your head. 

“then that’s an honest mistake.” you flashed a forced smile at him. you carried the boxes stacked upon one another. “if you have a huge ego like that i bet you never dated. no girl would ever date you.” 

jaehyun fell silent, his mood to bash you suddenly changed. the shifts in his steps became heavier and as if he was putting his anger upon them. he didn’t like being reminded of sue, even if you unconsciously did so. “can’t you just keep quiet as you work? do you always have something to say? keep your damn mouth shut if you think all the fun you get is from belittling people.”

“okay sheesh sorry i didn’t know you have a heart for people too.” you removed your helmet to relieve the discomfort from it. 

as time passed— two hours to be exact, the more your guilt begin to seep in you. jaehyun never spoke after that. silence was like death at this point. not a hint of sniffs and sighs from him. did you go too far that he actually chose not to talk anymore? all you thought about was the pact he suggested. what now? anyone could appear any moment. 

this wasn’t like you at all. you hesitated to talk to him and to give the first move to bicker. you stood there staring at him piling boxes after boxes and sweeping the floor where dust accumulated like piles of sand. you bit your lips because screw this, you hated this atmosphere, you hated this silent treatment. “j-jaehyun?” you called out.

nothing. 

“hey-”

“hm? guilt eating you up now?” you froze at his voice as he chuckled. “it has, hasn’t it? look at your face!” he was laughing, his hands holding his ballooning stomach. “y/n you should’ve seen yourself!”

your gaze followed his hands that quickly took his phone placed at one corner. he was recording and your obliviousness blinded you. “oh you have no idea how much i wanted to laugh! my cheeks hurt so bad! hahaha!”

“you’re not using that to blackmail me!” you strided towards him.

he put his arm high as you struggled to reach it. “i might as well do that thanks for the idea!” faintly you heard his friends coming to check as to why their friend had the laughter of the century, only to find you both bickering again like this morning.

“delete that video jaehyun! i mean it!” “not until you agree to clean the loft!” “that’s like telling me to do everything!” “then that’s exactly what i’m telling you to do!”

johnny put up his phone to recording the struggling you and jaehyun enjoying his time to take advantage of his height. “dude i’ve never seen jaehyun this happy since sue broke up with him.”

“yeah his dimples are legit showing it’s scary me.” mark squinted at the two of you.

jaehyun swung his arms to avoid your attempted catches. he scrunched his nose and although that was undeniably cute, you couldn’t afford to feel humiliated for another two weeks. “jaehyun please delete it!”

“it’s not convincing enough you know?” “stop joking around we could fall!” you hissed. “fall?! then stop trying to get my phone!” “then put down your ridiculously long arm!” “yours are just too short!” “i swear— delete the footage!”

“you have to sound like you beg for it—” he cackled and with a few stretches you managed to reach his wrists as you lunged forwards. “oi stop!” that one last reach only made jaehyun lose his balance and fell backwards. 

and all you heard were yells of worry.

to say that you both gladly fell on soft pillows of hay was an understatement. at least that what it looked like to your friends. jaehyun was shocked, his arm felt numb. he took a good look at you and there you were laying on his arm with pale lips. “hey, you okay?” his hands were already out to help you. “y/n—”

“m’lady!” hendery rushed to you, causing jaehyun to flinch at the tone of his voice. he gently took your right arm, but you gritted your teeth and asked him to take the left. “painful?”

“not that serious.” you said, feeling the stares from jaehyun. “ew don’t look at me like that. i’m fine, really. let’s just call it a day.” you gave a small smile and he wasn’t buying it.

because jaehyun saw you clung onto hendery for dear life. 

[interstellarflowers]

Professor Parker Ch. 1| Professor, Peter Parker x Student, Reader

a/n this fic doesn’t follow the marvel cinematic universe but assume that peter has been what he’s been through with the exception that tony lived, and bruce is still bruce, sorry but i just can't deal with endgame hulk/bruce rn emotionally or mentally. im sorry nat is still dead but dw i'll actually treat it with respect unlike endgame like goddamn where was her funeral, am i right? the stages of grief thing they did was interesting though. im sorry i digress, this is set in nyc (because heyo im a new yorka) and the avengers/stark tower is still a thing, peter is fucking traumatized and has turned kind of cold as a result. this fic may contain a smut chapter in the future? not sure yet, where this fic goes depends on the feedback, thanks for reading also sorry im not the proudest of this first chapter so ill probably edit it but promise itll only improve from here just not in the best mental state rn

University life wasn’t exactly everything that you imagined it to be. There was hardly time to do anything that people claimed was good about coming to university. The parties, the epic heartbreaks, and romances, they were just nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was nothing particularly extravagant about your experience thus far. You went to class, studied, and went to your internship. Your internship was probably the most exciting thing about your life at the moment, you were lucky to be accepted into the Stark Industries student internship, the company paid college tuition and only required around twenty hours of lab work a week, you couldn’t complain. Of course, the exciting part of the whole ordeal was the name attached to it, “Stark,” not that you had ever met him, but it was nice to have a unique feature like that in such an impressive student body.

So here you were on the first day of your third year of university. You lived off-campus, about a five-minute walk from the Stark Tower, but a twenty-minute subway ride to your campus. However, having an 882 square foot space to yourself was really nothing you could truly complain about despite the distance. The studio apartment being yet another benefit reaped from Stark Industries. Thank you Tony Stark, the unseen benevolent God in your life.

Typically you would start your mornings off quietly and in no rush, a shower, a cup of coffee, maybe some studying before heading off to your campus, but your phone had other plans for you today. Instead of your alarm going off like it was supposed to, you were woken up by the sound of a particularly loud car horn, and oh how grateful you were for that. As soon as you were jolted awake you shifted to grab your phone and turned it over to see an alarming 8:40am glaring back at you.

Holy shit. You were late.

You scrambled out of bed nearly face planting several times in your hurry to get dressed and only barely ran out the door with everything you needed at 8:47am.

By the time you managed to get to the subway and clamor onto the right train it was already 8:55am. Out of breath and panicking, you considered your options. You could explain after class, you could shoot an email, there were a plethora of things you could do but none of them seemed to justify being late as a third-year to a level 500 class. You had googled all of your professors while registering for classes as was common practice. You couldn’t find a RateMyProfessor on Professor...Parker? You were pretty sure it was Professor Parker, but you do remember seeing on the STEM department page that he was currently a Ph.D. student, so you could only hope that as a fellow student he would be at least a little understanding towards your lateness.

You stood outside of the lecture hall huffing and trying to catch your breath at 9:32am, psyching yourself up, you pushed open the door to the class and attempted to go unnoticed. The class was in a lecture hall despite being only composed of around thirty students, so if you were lucky maybe nobody would even see-

“Ms.(y/l/n), I presume?.” Shit.

“Professor Parker?” Shit.

“You are aware that class starts at 9am, and not 9:30am, would this be correct Ms.(y/l/n)?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s just that I had an emergency.” The lying route. Not exactly the highlight of your academic career.

“I regret to inform you that I only take valid excuses Ms.(y/l/n), please take a seat, and next time, don’t bother disrupting class halfway through the lesson.” Fuck. You mustered a quiet “ok,” and a small nod before escorting yourself to the back of the room, thirty-something eyes following you until you sat down.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the class, it was just too embarrassing, time moved forward but you couldn’t help but be stuck on what had just happened. For the first ten minutes after sitting down you felt like dropping out of the whole class out of sheer fucking humiliation. This was of course before you reminded yourself that this class was a requirement to graduate in your field of study. You quietly bargained with yourself before sighing quietly and settling on the conclusion that Professor Parker was just a dick. A dick who certainly didn’t deserve the satisfaction of you switching out of his class. If he wanted to be like that, you decided, you would simply return the favor.

“I know, Ms.(y/ln), why don’t you tell us DeBroglie’s equation?”

“With pleasure, Professor Parker.” Yeah, you’d return the favor alright.

“Ms.(y/l/n), you stay.” Fuck that. You looked the other way and feigned ignorance as you kept making your way towards the door. About to leave, the door shut on your face.

“What the fuck!” You jumped before turning around and you felt your face heat up.

“Ms.(y/l/n), please refrain from using profanities in my classroom.”

“I’m sorry Professor Parker. I was just startled.”

“Mhm,” he took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, “Just don’t do it in the future Ms.(y/l/n).”

“Of course. My name is (y/n), by the way, Professor Parker, you can just call me that, actually, I prefer that people refer to me by (y/n).”

“Rest assured, I’m aware of your name, Ms.(y/l/n). My name is Peter, but you can continue to call me Professor Parker.” You could have sworn that you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knew what he was fucking doing, asshole. You held back from rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

“Of course, Professor Parker.”

“As you know, Ms.(y/l/n), I did request that you stay after class.”

“Oh? I sincerely apologize Professor Parker, I really didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sure, Ms.(y/l/n).” Fucking. Dick.

“Well, what exactly did you want Professor Parker? I do have another class soon.” Professor Parker narrowed his eyes at you in obvious distaste before reaching behind himself into a bin underneath his desk and pulling out a stack of papers,

“These are the handouts you missed from the beginning of the class. Textbook requirements, syllabus...Crucial information to have if you care to succeed in my class Ms.(y/l/n).” So coldly, so maliciously, Professor Parker placed the stack into your arms.

“I take my work very seriously, Ms.(y/l/n), I do my part as your professor so I only have the simple request that my students do the same.” You nodded feeling your face heat up again.

“Of course, Professor Parker, it won’t happen again,” you said with a tightlipped smile.

“Mhm,” Professor Parker turned around and began shuffling around some paper and without giving you a second glance said, “You are dismissed.” You nodded and hurriedly made your way out of his classroom. Of course, you had lied. You didn’t have another class until late in the afternoon. So you called your coworker instead,

“Hey, Harvey.”

“(y/n).”

“Wow, okay, don’t get too excited.”

“Sorry, just woke up.”

“Tsk, the early bird gets the worm, Harvey.”

“I don’t want a worm.”

“Fuck you. I’m headed to the lab, can I expect you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You had been working with Harvey for around four years now, he was quite the impressive specimen, having attended MIT and graduating Summa Cum Laude at age 20 was no easy feat, he was closer to Tony Stark than you would ever get, he was quite personable, and you couldn’t deny that he was quite good looking. You’d never tell him that though, he didn’t need another ego boost. Besides, you had some connections of your own.

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Banner!”

“Can we expect Harvey today?”

“Honestly, not sure.” You both knowingly smiled at each other before you made your way over to what he was working on,

“Do you ever get bored here?”

“With you and the other idiot always running around? How could I?” You laughed,

“No, seriously, like wouldn’t you rather be doing nerd shit with Tony or something? Isn’t it a little tiresome babysitting us?”

“Tiring? Maybe sometimes, but not nearly as tiring as doing ‘nerd shit’ with Tony. He’s exhausting,” Bruce smiled at his own joke, “I don’t mind playing babysitter at all kid.” He fiddled with the handle of a mug that read, “Don’t be so Na Cl,” which you had gotten him a year back as a joke, but he still used it.

You really loved Bruce for all he was. Since losing your family back in 2012 during the battle in NYC, you didn’t really have any familial figures. But since landing this internship you found yourself with a parental figure again, and you would never be able to put into words how much it meant to you, so you didn’t. Besides, you didn’t want him to feel pressured about it, especially after everything he had been through himself. Frying half your body and losing the love of your life in such a short span of time was really nothing less than horrifying. Yet, here he was, smiling, laughing...You loved him for it.

“First day of junior year? How was that?”

“Shit.”

“Huh?” Bruce stopped tinkering with the device in his hands and looked over at you, “I’ve never heard of a course being too hard for (y/n) (y/l/n), what is it? Aerospace? Quantum?”

“No, just one giant dick.”

“Pardon-”

“My professor, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Ah, I see. If he’s really harassing you (y/n), I don’t mean to overstep, I really think we should alert administration, what’s his name?” Bruce took a sip of his coffee.

“Professor Parker,” Bruce choked on his coffee, “Oh my God, Bruce, are you okay?”

“Yeah-” he said, still coughing, “Just a little too strong.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce caught his breath, “What did he do kid?”

“He’s just a dick that’s all.”

“You sure you don’t want me to do something about it?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I don’t know what you could do anyways. Thank you though.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised.”

Sitting at your desk stressing over school work at 3am, it was nothing out of the ordinary for you. Everything appeared ordinary. The ordinary cup of tea, the familiar glow of your computer, and a morning chill creeping through your window. It was all so breathtakingly normal until there was a rap on your window. You took an earbud out of your ear, certain you were just hearing things, you looked to your window. Holy shit.

You opened your window wide so that he could crawl in.

“(y/n)?”

“Mr.Spiderman.” Still too in shock to fully process the situation you started to take in the scene in front of you,

“Please, it’s just Spiderman.”

“Oh-Oh my God, what happened?” Head to toe the suit seemed to have blood seeping through, tears in the body of the suit revealed gashes and a bullet wound.

“Bad guys. I know this guy-said he knew a medical student close by, you are (y/n)? Right?”

“Y-Yeah, but I’m really just a student, I’m not really a prof-”

“This guy, he said you might as well be.”

“I don’t know Mr.Spiderman, really, maybe I could take you to the hospital though.”

“-Spiderman, it’s just Spiderman, listen, (y/n), you know I can’t go to a hospital, it would ruin this whole secret identity thing I got going on here, and this guy, he’s probably the smartest guy I know, so if he says you can handle it, you can.” You swallowed and nodded,

“Yeah-” you wring your hands together, “Yeah-Sorry, let me go get my first aid kit.”

[angsty-omi]

wakatoshi ushimjima x reader

lowercase intended

warnings: insecurity, anxiety, unrequited love, and pure angst

part 2

ever since middle school, you’ve fallen for the giant. he was the tallest guy in your class, and you were the tallest girl. a whopping 5 ‘8. it was no wonder your music teacher always partnered you guys together for every musical play. that year you had to tango, and the year before that you had to square dance. although, you guys were never close. only when dancing season came around is when your friendship ignited again. his face may seem chilling, but he really was an interesting person.

during your water breaks, he would always talk about his love for volleyball, and you couldn’t explain how the way he talked about it made you feel excited. he saw it in your eyes how intrigued you were and you swore he even smiled a little at you. that was the first time your heartbeated a little too fast. you wanted to see what other emotions only that could be unlocked, you started to become more attracted to him. it really made you feel special.

now in high school, you’ve been close friends with him ever since the tango assignment two years ago. you followed him to shiratorizawa. there was a moment of hes i stance if he wanted you there, but when you asked if it was okay with it he only grunted and nodded like a sexy caveman. but, seriously around you, he was a much more outgoing person. you just had to beat the level to unlock it. you’ve spent so much time investing in his life, like going to his games and waiting for him after practice.

you hoped that one day when he retires from volleyball, you’ll be the first person he will draw his attention to. that’s why you haven’t confessed yet. you knew that volleyball was his number one priority and you were perfectly okay with it. right now, he needed to only spend time on volleyball. it just wasn’t the time for either of you. you had academic awards you wanted to achieve, and he wanted to win at nationals. you decided to play the long game. he’s never hinted that he wanted a relationship, so much so you even questioned if he was gay. whatever the case you’re both busy and it’s not like he’s looking for a girlfriend right?

right?

wrong.

you were waiting for him outside the school gates. he usually walked you home and maybe you guys would stop at a bakery, sharing a piece of cake to applause you making it through hell. you saw his figure walk towards you, waving at you. and then a second later, you see another figure trailing behind him. “toshi, don’t look now but there’s a girl following you,” you whispered with a detective like voice. he looked behind him and laughed. as she walked closer to you guys, you couldn’t help but notice her big boobs jumping up and down everytime she took a step. looking up and down at her, mesmerized. “y/n, i’d like you to meet my girlfriend, rin,” toshi said with a big grin.

your skin turned pale.

his what?

“n-n-nice to meet you rin, i’m l/n y/n,” you shook her hand with a little too much strength. she just stared at you. which made you even more anxious. a few awkward seconds later, toshi coughed, “well we should start heading home shall we?” he says. you took the first step in stride onto the winding road. stopping in your tracks when you noticed you heard one too many footsteps behind you. you look back, “oh does she live this way too?” you asked, hoping he would get the hint. “no, but the train station is the same way, so i’m walking her,” toshi replied. you glanced at rin only with her teeth grinning widely. you swore for a flash second you saw her smirk devilishly. maybe you’re just jealous. your mind is just playing tricks on you.

after toshi walked her to the station, he caught up with you. “so what’dya think? she’s hot right?,” toshi snickered. you already having a poor image of yourself, was not having it. “yeah, she’s cute,” you said, looking down on the ground. he didn’t even notice that you felt down. could he not see that i’m unhappy? you could always tell if he was ever sad or not, just by looking at his posture. maybe it just wasn’t mutual.

the shoes pattering on the sidewalk filled the empty silence between the two. toshi lived six houses down from you, and thank god you weren’t neighbors. but your families came to be super close. dinners every wednesday together, which you didn’t mind whatsoever. since today was tuesday, it meant that tommorow toshi would be at your house. “maybe then we can have some alone time to talk,” you said to yourself. “were you seriously thinking about confessing to him?” you frowned to yourself. you decided to do it. it would change his mind about her, and you are now aware that he does look for a relationship.

on wednesday, you had your gameplan set out. you looked at your front door, “toshi will walk in and before the table is set, i’ll bring him in my room,” you grinned. then point at your desk, “he will sit there and i will sit on my bed facing him,” you grinned even bigger. “then i will confess my love, and he will be all oh my god y/n! i like you too!” you said, flopping onto your bed hugging your pillow. “this plan is an absolute solid, there are no plot holes or errors,” you whispered to yourself, when you heard the doorbell.

you opened it with open arms, first to his mom, dad, him and rin. you turn your head to guide them, until your neck came into a full 180 degrees. you were unbelievably shocked. mouth agape.

“wait, RIN IS HERE, OH GOD WHY? I DIDNT EVEN TAKE THIS IN CONSIDERATION,” you mentally screamed in your head.

you gritted your teeth, “hey rin, suprised to see you here.”

toshi replied with “oh i invited her, i hope that’s okay”

“y-y-yeah of course, more the merrier right?” you answered with the fakest smile, you were suprised your family didn’t see past it.

-

a/n; this part was definitely not the most entertaining, but i gotta create a backstory for the painful angst in the next part >:) beware. like, repub, or follow if you want to see another part of this or more of me in general!

[modestmuses-a]

the positive & negative :    mun & muse  /  fill out & repost .

EKKO

MY MUSE IS :    canon  /  oc  /  au  /  slightly canon - divergent / fandomless / complicated 

i try to stay mostly close to ekko’s canon but i also have a fuckton of aus for him including some real self-indulgent bullshit that isn’t even on his verses page. if you want me to make a new au for ekko to fit him into a different skin line or something, i’ll probably do it tbh.

IS YOUR CHARACTER POPULAR IN THE FANDOM ?    YES  /  NO / I DON’T KNOW 

IS YOUR CHARACTER CONSIDERED HOT™ IN THE FANDOM ?  YES /  NO  /  IDK

for better or worse. when “giants” first came out, i had more ekko smut on my dash than i ever cared to see.

IS YOUR CHARACTER CONSIDERED STRONG IN THE FANDOM ? YES  /  NO  /  IDK

i can tell you what i think of ekko’s strength, and i can tell you that... it isn’t much. he’s not the most adept fighter in the series, and most of the time, he wins fights by cheesing them with time travel. in my thread with @uncaged-bloodhunter​ ekko would be DEAD four times over by now if not for the zero drive.

however, i haven’t seen much fandom opinion about his strength? i’m going to go out on a limb and say most people probably don’t find him very strong bc? i don’t see a lot of people saying that but. who knows.

ARE THEY UNDERRATED ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK

canon-wise, fandom-wise, and on this blog, ekko gets a lot of attention, which i’m not complaining about. he’s a fav.

WERE THEY RELEVANT FOR THE MAIN STORY ? YES  /  NO  /  IDK

he is important around zaun, but considering he won’t LEAVE that place, i doubt we’ll see him achieve much relevance in the bigger overarching conflicts in the league universe anytime soon.

WERE THEY RELEVANT FOR THE MAIN CHARACTER ? YES /  NO  /  IDK

if league did have a main character, i’m sure he would never meet them unless they were from piltover or zaun lol

ARE THEY WIDELY KNOWN IN THEIR WORLD ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK

around piltover/zaun, all the academics are trying to get him to sit down with them, but overall? nah. if he went anywhere other than piltover or zaun, they would have no fucking idea who he was.

HOW’S THEIR REPUTATION ?    GOOD  /  BAD  /  NEUTRAL

pilties HATE him! click to find out why!

no, but in seriousness, around zaun, his reputation is quite good as one of the few decent souls in the city. but in piltover, he’s just another thuggish troublemaker on a spree of petty crimes, as if zaun doesn’t already have enough of those...

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON ?

shrugs. i don’t actively think about adhering to canon with every thread i write, of course, but i do think i have a pretty good handle on his character so.

SELL YOUR MUSE !( try to list everything that makes your muse interesting to make them spicy for your mutuals ) 

he is a nice sweet boy who WILL adopt every single child and will go out of his way to help those in need. he also has plenty of spunk and a real get-up-and-go kind of personality, he’s not the kind of person who likes just “hanging around” so he’s a perfect companion for someone who likes to get out and adventure as long as you don’t go outside of piltover/zaun. he’s very loyal and will stick up for his friends, even when it would be more convenient to sell them out. and of course, he’s willing to call authority figures out on their bullshit and doesn’t sit back and passively watch injustices happen.

NOW THE OPPOSITE !(  list everything why your muse could not be so interesting . even if you may not agree. what does the fandom perhaps think ?  )

he’s got abandonment issues up to HERE, and because of that, he is c l i n g y. if he gets attached to you in any way, he will NOT let you go. he will NOT get over you. he will probably keep trying to worm his way back into your life for months or YEARS because he just doesn’t know how to deal with being left.

furthermore, he represses every negative emotion he has ever felt because he feels like his problems are trivial compared to other people’s so he bottles that shit right on up like cheap cough-syrup-tastin’ whiskey. he holds onto a LOT of resentment - at piltover, at the chembarons, at himself, at the world - and because he doesn’t allow himself to DO anything with said resentment, he’s a ticking time bomb (pun fully intended). i do have... timelines... where all that internalized hostility blows up in a really messy way. and by messy, i mean bloody.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE ? 

around the time i first started getting into league, a bitch was going through it. we were pretty destitute and received an eviction notice, and i had to work my ass off to keep us from losing our apartment. it was a very depressing time for everyone involved. but then i found ekko, this boy who had even less than i did but made the most of it, who always found some way to make the day better. writing him became very cathartic for me because it allowed me to take something positive away from what was one of the worst years of my life.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING ? 

punk rock music, haha! especially that of billy talent. their whole dead silence album is pretty ekko, but they have a lot of bangers that remind me of him scattered across all their albums. we deserved punk rock ekko and instead we got fucking true damage because riot didn’t wanna get political, i guess. smh.

some more personal questions for the mun . give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters , which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not .

DO YOU THINK YOU GIVE YOUR CHARACTER JUSTICE ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK                      

DO YOU FREQUENTLY WRITE HEADCANONS ? YES /  NO  /  IDK

i kind of only address headcanons as they come up. very occasionally i will drop a few for a new muse just so that people get a better feel for who they are before writing them but... yeah written headcanons are pretty few and far between here. it’s really not even worth me having a headcanon banner lmao

DO YOU SOMETIMES WRITE DRABBLES ?    YES  /  NO  /  IDK

i would like to, but writing my replies here kind of sucks up most of my time!

DO YOU THINK A LOT ABOUT YOUR MUSE DURING THE DAY ? YES /  NO  /  IDK

ARE YOU CONFIDENT IN YOUR PORTRAYAL ? YES  /  NO  /  IDK

too confident some might say, but those people would be silly fools

ARE YOU CONFIDENT IN YOUR WRITING ?   YES  /  NO  /  IDK  

ARE YOU A SENSITIVE PERSON ?   YES /  NO  /  IDK

sometimes i get anxiety about stupid shit but i try and often fail to be secure

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL ?

nope, i ain’t changing a thing. i’m the best ekko on this site, and you are free to disagree with that because everyone is entitled to their wrong opinion, but my askbox is closed to those kinds of complaints. :)

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS , WHICH HELP YOU TO EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER ?

yeah, sure, although i understand why people don’t send them because i often draw blanks on what to send without somebody reblogging a headcanon meme or something. if you just reblog “send my character questions on anon!” i’m probably not gonna do it bc i have no idea what kinds of questions would even be relevant or helpful for you.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS , DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY

nah, everyone can do what they want. i usually won’t follow people if i don’t agree with their headcanons, but i’m not about to get all up in somebody’s business about it.

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL , HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT ?

again, wrong opinion, but you’re allowed to have it and you’re also allowed to SMASH that unfollow button.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER , HOW DO YOU TAKE IT ?

who hates ekko of all people, first of all? but second of all, i don’t care. just don’t get in my dms about it ‘cause i’ll block you. i’m not really interested in somebody bashing one of my muses to my face.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS ?

shrugs. yeah, i guess. i usually leave other people’s grammatical errors alone as long as i can read their stuff.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN ?

yeah i think so. i try to be, anyway. i like to make ooc friendships bc i find it way more satisfying and easy to write with friends. although i sound a little bitchy in parts of this, it’s mostly jokes for exaggeration effects.

tagged by: @bikmui

tagging: @storiestotell (akutagawa), @bystcrdust, @dimensionaljumper (for eliza ‘cause i always send stuff for scribe lol)

[adrianodiprato]

+ "The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.” ~ Antonio Gramsci | Italian Author Selections from the Prison Notebooks

Game Changers | Series Three Reflection

During this global pandemic l have been personally inspired and encouraged by the actions of many individual educators and learning communities to rethink what education can be and should be in the future. In our Continuous Learning Toolkit – Volume III | Wellness By Design® we highlighted that across all continuous learning models during COVID-19 those schools which have continued to thrive have operated effectively and compassionately at personal, relational and community levels. They have responded to adversity by promoting qualities of creativity, curiosity and challenge, complemented by a significant focus on the social and emotional resilience of all - students, staff, and families. People have really mattered, and systems needed to have been reshaped to meet the needs of people; we can’t tell you the number of times we have heard educators tell us that “wellness comes first”.

Why shouldn’t that be the norm always? The pursuit of excellence, especially academic attainment really matters to us at a School for tomorrow. and we can’t help but wonder why we would ever have thought that wellness was something that was a binary opposite to high standards, or something of secondary importance, or an add-on, or somebody else’s business in education. An excellent person understands that their wellness is the foundation on which their good character, competency, achievements and contributions are built. So, shouldn’t “being well” be part of our better normal?

All over the world, there's growing consensus that our education systems are broken. In Series Three of the Game Changers podcast we encountered educators and social entrepreneurs that shared big ideas on how learning communities might amplify the central position of The Whole of Learning: Wellness by Design®, as we support each young person to move from resilience to the power of resourcefulness of self-efficacy, personal aspiration, adaptive expertise, voice, agency and advocacy.

The true mark of a leader is the willingness to stick with a bold course of action. Much like the Gramsci quote, each of our Series Three Game Changers recognised that the delivering models of schooling, that we have become accustomed too, are no longer relevant for a Whole of Learning ecosystem. That true courageous leaders lead through crisis, by addressing the real challenges and findings of today, with a lens on tomorrow, and often of the “morbid symptoms” that are brought into sharp focus as a result of such things like a global pandemic. Our Series Three Game Changers wake up brave and unafraid for the challenge ahead, with the deep understanding that it’s time to choose to allow our students to go on a personal journey of discovery that will give them the character, competency and wellness to be a generation of happier, healthier and more confident young people, who can truly thrive in the new tomorrow of their world.

Episode One | Vishal Talreja

We started Series Three with Dream A Dream co-founder Vishal Talreja.

Key learnings – Dream a Dream is a not-for-profit organisation in Delhi, India positively impacting on the lives of young people from vulnerable backgrounds to overcome adversity and flourish in a fast-changing world. One key aspect of our conversation with Vishal was an insight into the development and implementation of a Happiness Curriculum. This Happiness Curriculum aims to equip students with the necessary skills so young people can better deal with anxiety and stress while thinking critically. Placing wellness at the centre of all learning interactions at Dream a Dream.

Episode Two | Leslie Medema

Key learnings – I love this quote from Leslie, “Learning doesn’t only take place in a school or classroom. We are here to teach you the skills of learning. You can take that from here and learn anywhere, anytime from anything. Life is learning. That is the concept we want our children to learn: Learning is wall-less.” The keyword with all of this for education therefore is relevance. For education to remain relevant in today’s world the future of education and schooling must evolve. The content and style of teaching hasn’t changed much over the last few decades. However, it must to ensure education remains relevant. Leslie eloquently highlighted that a new renaissance in education means that we re-structure our relationship to learning and life, our relationship to the planet and our relationship to the world of work. We need a different educational model that has a value shift to a new learning ecosystem that allows us to meet the basic needs of every human on the planet, in order to thrive in an era of constant uncertainty.

Episode Three | Nathan Chisholm

Key learnings – Andria Zafirakou, the 2018 winner of the Global Teacher Prize, spoke about the future of education at Davos in January 2019 around the key to unlocking children’s futures, stating “We need children to be the problem-solving generation, and unless we teach them problem-solving skills, which come from the creative subjects, it won’t happen.” I believe that these human skills that Zafirakou refers to are central to an educational renaissance and learning vision that Nathan Chisholm and his team at Prahran High School are framing through the deep interrogation of their values - challenge, creativity, curiosity and character, fostering a learning community that allows each young person to thrive in a new world environment.

Episode Four | Tracey Breese

Key learnings – In 2019 the World Economic Forum held their annual meeting of global political and business leaders in Davos, Switzerland. Jack Ma, founder of Alibaba Group, China’s e-commerce giant stated this at Davos, “If we do not change the way we teach, 30 years from now, we’re going to be in trouble”. That the knowledge-based approach of “200 years ago”, would “fail our kids”, who would never be able to compete with machines. Children should be taught “soft skills” like independent thinking, values and teamwork, he said. And Tracey gets it. She knows that the jobs of the future are one’s machines can’t do and continues to focus on cultivating the whole person as part of the whole of learning framework at Kurri Kurri High School. While adhering to all the regulatory compliance, Tracey continually finds opportunities to enable, equip and engage all learners.  

Episode Five | David Ferguson

Key learnings – Tuakana-Teina is a Māori concept referring to the relationship between an older sibling (Tuakana) and a younger sibling (Teina) and is specific to a teaching and learning context. David Ferguson, although not Māori, embodies this concept as the Principal of an all boy’s school in New Zealand. Assuming the role of the older sibling, he deeply understands the profoundness of the character apprenticeship between the teacher and student and the growth gains from a positive social exchange between the two. It is a shared learning and development partnership between someone with experience and someone who wants to learn, resulting in mutual reflection, learning and growing of both Tuakana and Teina. David gets this responsibility in supporting boys to become young men, the multiple masculinities of all young men.

Episode Six | Debbie Dunwoody

Key learnings – When I think of Debbie Dunwoody, I think of permission. She is one of those rare leaders that fully understands the power of permission. The word permission has agency and movement and is central to Debbie’s leadership style, one that is open to the inherent possibility of all members of her community at Camberwell Girls Grammar School. We need more leaders in education like Debbie, who park their ego at the door. She listens and more often than not, responds with yes, especially empowering her staff to trial ideas and take risks, leveraging design thinking has an important framework to find positive solutions to wicked challenges. I want to work for and with Debbie.  

Episode Seven | Jonathan McIntosh

Key learnings – In the World Economic Forum’s 2020 publication, Schools of the Future: Defining New Models of Education for the Fourth Industrial Revolution they state, “Many studies have shown that New York City’s public-school system is among the most racially and economically segregated in the United States[1]. Prospect School’s “diverse by design” model aims to address this challenge by creating truly diverse and integrated learning environments where students can gain a deep understanding of the ways in which alternative perspectives drive innovation and creativity.” Diversity, inclusion and representation matters. Jonathan and the work of Prospect Schools in New York understand this. This conversation with Jonathan amplifies why people need people, and that every young person is home to a unique life. How poignant is this during the current climate of Black Lives Matter.

Episode Eight | Yasodai Selvakumaren

Key learnings – “We are seeing a growing consensus around the shared conviction that character, competency and wellness is the whole work of a school. This work needs to empower the emerging voice and agency of students on their pathway to adulthood as they wrestle with what they think about their mark (their inner sense of fulfilment) and their measure (their sense of validation according to what others expect of them), and cultivate and put into practice values, beliefs, and actions.” Dr Phil S A Cummins. So, we are starting to talk about voice in schools. But do we do it? “Something I really strive for with my students is for them to understand they have a place in the world and to help them find their voice.” This quote by Yasodai sums up this amazing life force and human being. How can you not love her infectious energy. Her passion for young people is awe-inspiring. And her empowerment of their voice is central to the strength of her pedagogical approach. Brilliant!

Special Series | Dean Delia & Scott Miller

Key learnings – A friend to us at Game Changers, the amazing Jan Owen AM stated this back in 2018, when she was the CEO of the Foundation of Young Australians (FYA), “Over the past decade, there has been growing consensus that Australia’s education and training systems must evolve to ensure they are responsive and relevant to the changing world of work and needs of the future workforce”. And “Our goal should not be to ensure that young people are simply finishing school but to make certain that every student has built a ‘portfolio’ of skills and capabilities with which to thrive in the new economy. “ Dean Delia and Scott Millar get this. And they are working hard to equip young people with this necessary enterprise thinking and skills to move from resilience and surviving, to the profoundness of resourcefulness and thriving. Two remarkable young men who continue to find opportunities to help others, particularly our young people, to shine in this new world environment.  

A clear feature of all conversations we shared throughout Series Three has been an explicit focus on wellness. While some have viewed the use of technology as a distraction, the application of technology during COVID-19 has been an opportunity to prioritise wellness into all aspects of planning and scheduling. This new or better normal of schooling is based on a shared understanding of the significance of the interdependence of learning and wellness as we support each young person to flourish in this new world environment. It requires us to map the connectedness of a whole education for character, competency and wellness. It brings into sharp focus self-direction, self-determination and self-regulation as critical dimensions in fostering the development of resourceful and independent learners equipped with the adaptive expertise and self-efficacy to thrive in their world.

Thank you to Vishal, Leslie, Nathan, Tracey, David, Debbie, Jonathan, Yasodai, Dean and Scott for sharing your story and passion. And thank for reminding us all that each person in our learning communities is home to a life. It is as simple and complex as that. Born from the construct of love – of self, for place and the other.

Listen to our Series Three: Epilogue via streaming platforms - SoundCloud, Apple Podcasts, Spotify and Google Play.

[1] Source: Kuscera, J. and G. Orfield, “New York State’s Extreme Segregation”, The Civil Rights Project, 2014, https://civilrightsproject.ucla.edu/research/k- 12-education/integration-and-diversity/ ny-norflet-report-placeholder/Kucsera-New- York-Extreme-Segregation-2014.pdf.

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

The Nightblood Project

Clexa / Supercorp AU where Lexa is the genetically engineered product of one of Lex Luthor’s experiments

"Miss Griffin, I’m afraid you---”

Maybe I’m just a kid to you. I mean, I’m just some dumb teenager, and Jesus, you’re Lena freaking Luthor, but.... do you know what it’s like when you’ve spent your life seeing only in black and white? Not bad, not unhappy, just black and white, not knowing any different -- and then suddenly... suddenly someone extraordinary comes along and opens your eyes. And it’s like an explosion of color -- colors you never even knew existed -- and it’s intense and overwhelming. There’s so much of it and it hurts, but it’s -- it’s beautiful. God, it’s so fucking beautiful, every color takes your breath away, and you wouldn’t go back to black and white, even if you could..... That’s her. That’s Lexa. So yeah, I’ll keep coming back until you let me see her. Because that’s who she is for me.”

Yeah, I wrote and made this moodboard at 3am and I haven’t had any sleep. Also disclaimer, I know nothing about cloning, genetic manipulation or the American foster care system. And here we go:

In this AU, Lex Luthor made some experiments to make meta humans when he was in his early 20s (maybe around 24 or so, and his baby sister Lena was 10)

He was experimenting with cloning and genetic manipulation, and he was eventually successful, producing the first cloned human, a baby girl he named Lexa.

One of the things that he was also working on was encoding his newly developed anti-alien AI (A.L.I.E) into the human genome.

After Lexa was created, Lex wanted to perform further invasive experiments on her. 

However, one of his chief scientists, Becca Pramheda, whose misgivings about the study had been previously rejected, felt it was unethical to do that to an infant, and refused

Becca took Lexa and ran away to hide the baby from Lex. In my hc, he somehow caught up to her and killed her.

But before she died, she managed to leave Lexa in a hospital. She enters the foster care system and Lex doesn't find her.

When Lex is finally sent to prison for his crimes,  Lena inherits all of his work (this would be around 2 years before the show)

Lena finds classified redacted documents detailing the experiment, called the Nightblood Project (so named because Lexa’s blood came out black as a side effect of the genetic manipulation). The documents are incomplete because Becca took some of the info with her during their escape, but Lena discovers a picture of baby Lexa and becomes determined to find her.

Lena finds her across the country in National City after an exhaustive year long search. Lexa is 15 at this time, and currently living in a group home.

Lexa has spent most of her life moving from one foster home to another, but the home she’s in now is one of the most stable she’s had. It’s run by a giant of a man named Gustus Paunovic, who is as soft-hearted as he is tough.

There are seven other kids in the group home, and Lexa is the eldest. Anya, the big sister who was the eldest, aged out of the system a few years ago and left. Lexa looks after each and every single one of the younger kids. Protects them, makes sure that none of them get into trouble, holds the little ones after a nightmare.

Lena makes contact with her, and it’s hard at first, because Lexa is distrustful and not inclined to believe anything a Luthor says, especially since Lex Luthor’s arrest made national news.

Eventually, Lena manages to convince her, using a story that they’re related (which isn’t really a lie, considering Lexa shares Lex’s DNA, if genetically manipulated). 

But Lexa refuses to go with Lena to Metropolis and leave her family (”They’re my people. They need me.”).

The social worker, a sharp, no-nonsense woman who’d introduced herself as Indra Porter, looks at Lena with something close to sympathy in her eyes. “I am truly sorry, Miss Luthor. I know you mean well, I can see that, but I cannot, in good conscience, place one of my charges in the custody of --”

“Of a Luthor.” Lena finishes, with a well-concealed note of bitterness in her tone. The look Ms. Porter gives her says that she heard it anyway.

“Yes.” The other woman’s voice is firm, but not unkind. “You know -- better than I do, I’m sure -- the notoriety that has attached itself to your last name, especially with your brother’s recent trials, and I don’t believe that it would be in Lexa’s best interest to be attached to it at this point in her life. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re right.” Lena nods, thinking of the past year living under the shadow of Lex’s trials, and her own childhood blighted by the Luthor name. “Lexa’s well-being should come first.”

(I might throw in Costia there too somewhere)

Anyway, Lena concedes, and goes back to Metropolis, but Lexa agrees to visit her there.

I kinda just really want to give both of them someone they can slowly open up to so they can begin to trust family again, cause they’ve both been screwed over by “family”

At some point, Lena tells Lexa the truth. Imagine angsty little baby Lexa when she finds out she's "not human " but a "science project" of Lex's. (TW: implied self-harm)

There’s never really been anything unusual about Lexa, and it’s easy to slip between the cracks when you’re a foster kid. She’s ordinary. Normal.

But she remembers that one time -- that one foster kid she’d been living with when she was 9 -- Quint, who loved to bully the younger kids. He’d been taunting Costia because of her wild curly hair -- curlier even than Lexa’s, and flying all over the place in a corkscrew cloud that Lexa loved -- and Lexa had shouted at him to leave her alone! Quint had pushed her to the ground and she’d skinned her knee. 

It had bled, and Costia had screamed because her blood looked black and she had sounded so scared, that Lexa had forgotten about her black blood and instead reared up and tackled Quint to the ground, walloping him across the nose with her hardbound copy of Les Misérables from the library, and it had been Quint who bled then, not her.

Now, Lexa wonders if she’ll bleed black just like she did then. The only thought that permeates the numb haze in her mind as the sharp edge of the knife blade glides across her skin is that there’s only one way to find out.

Lena helps her through the crisis that follows when she discovers the truth (cos it’s not like she can just put her in therapy, considering the nature of her secret, and it’s not like Lena’s favorite repressive coping mechanism of “little boxes” is gonna help). I just want Lena to give Lexa the acceptance and the reassurance that she would need to face who and what she is

It’s not okay, not really, because how could it be, when everything she knew about herself has been turned on its head? But life goes on. It has to. And Lexa has always been a survivor.

Lexa only shares the truth with Anya (maybe Gustus and Indra). Lena makes herself available to answer all of Lexa’s questions, but the one thing she refuses to do is to perform further tests and experiments on Lexa (”Becca died trying to stop Lex from experimenting on you. The least I can do is honor that. I won’t be like my brother.”)

Just to be clear, in my AU, Lena isn’t averse to human trials and experiments (see Adam), but Lexa is different. A) she’s only 16, she’s underage and B) In a short amount of time, Lexa has become family. More family than Lillian, or even Lex.

Eventually, Lexa becomes a staple at Luthor Corp whenever she’s in Metropolis. And it's not a big deal for her to come striding into Lena's office, still in her school clothes. Sometimes she'll just lounge around in Lena's office, earbuds in, doing her homework, while Lena works at her desk.

Sometimes, Lena will be walking around Luthor Corp and Lexa will be walking beside her, quietly observing and learning

Lexa has an aptitude for science, but it's the day to day management of the conglomerate she's more interested in (”You’re a leader, Lexa. One look at you, and anyone can tell. People want to follow you.”) 

Eventually, it’s Lexa who convinces Lena to move to National City. Not only because that’s where she lives, but also because she’s seen the bad blood between the people of Metropolis and the Luthor name 

(’’There’s nothing for you here, Lena. Take it from someone who knows. I always used to hate moving homes. I hated change, I just wanted to find a place where I could stay forever and never have to leave. But I learned that sometimes, when 'home’ has become a bad place, that change is a necessity, if you want to survive. You can’t survive here in Metropolis, Lena. Lex is like a knife at your back, and being in this place just twists it in even further.”)

So a year later, Lena moves to National City and rebrands the company to L-Corp.

Lexa’s around 17 at this time, and Lena puts her (and all her foster siblings) in a good school and tries to give her as many opportunities as she herself got as a Luthor (without the emotional abuse she got from Lillian).

It’s at Arkadia Prep that she meets Clarke.

In the beginning, she sees Clarke as this spoiled little rich girl, the popular “Princess”, and Clarke sees her as competition, because from the start, Lexa proves herself to be exceptional. She may not have had the background that the Arkadia kids have, but she’s a voracious reader and a quick study, and she has street smarts they don’t.

A few months into term, and Lexa is already climbing to the top of the academic ladder -- narrowly unseating Clarke’s position at the top of the class, much to the other girl’s annoyance. It marks the beginning of a fierce competition -- Lexa beats Clarke at debate, Clarke beats her marks in Biology, Lexa kicks her ass at PE, Clarke beats her out as the lead of the school play. 

It’s something almost... enjoyable, Lexa thinks. She’s used to working twice as hard as everyone else -- it makes her better, smarter, stronger, quicker -- and Clarke likes a challenge, she can tell.

And it turns out they work even better together. They find this out when they’re forced to work together in a debate against another school in a televised event. They have fun absolutely decimating their rivals, and wiping the smirks off of Cage Wallace and Diana Syndney’s smug faces.

They begin to talk more. Clarke tells Lexa about her dad, who died in a car crash two years before. Lexa tells Clarke things about herself in increments: first she talks about the kids in the group home, then about Gustus and Anya, then about Costia, then about Lena.

Of course, Lexa doesn’t tell Clarke everything. Some things can’t be spoken of, not even to this girl who is fast becoming her friend. She never mentions Lex. Or her black blood.

Clarke introduces Lexa to her friends: Wells, Raven, Octavia, Bellamy, Monty and Jasper. They like her immediately, especially since Lexa is one of the few people who can shut Clarke up.

Pretty soon, Clarke and Lexa are best friends. Raven and Octavia would be jealous about this if it weren’t completely obvious how much Clarke and Lexa are beginning to enjoy each other’s company. 

Around Lexa, Clarke is calmer, less loud and harsh, more centered. And around Clarke, Lexa is warmer, the edges of her mouth softer and more prone to smiling.

Lexa’s first move to officially welcome Lena to National City is to introduce her to Clarke. She’s heard that Lena was practically accosted by those reporters after the Venture incident, and invites her to coffee with them (as if it were a random outing and not something Lexa’s been nervous about for months). 

Lena explains that it’s fine, the reporters were polite and mild-mannered, and one of them was quite cute. Lena doesn’t say that it was Kara Danvers who caught her eye, and not the famous Clark Kent.

Lena just sits back and sips her coffee -- watching the Clarke and Lexa talk quietly together, shoulders brushing, exchanging soft smiles over their coffee cups -- and she thinks she’s never seen Lexa this loose, this happy.

At some point, during one of Kara’s increasingly regular visits to Lena, she finds Lexa sitting on Lena’s couch (on Kara’s spot, the blonde thinks before quickly shaking her head), reading a hefty chemistry book while listening to music, occasionally asking Lena for help with a particularly complicated problem.

She first introduces Lexa to Kara as the daughter of a friend, just as she introduces her to everyone else, but Kara notices that there are too many similarities between them for them not to be related.

Not so much in appearance, though they both have the trademark Luthor green eyes, but in personality (both introverted but highly capable leaders, the keen intellect, the kill you with an eyebrow raise vibe)

Lexa likes Kara, and though she doesn’t know her that well, she knows Lena well enough by now to know that Lena is smitten.

“She called you Lee.”

“What?” Lena asks absentmindedly, her eyes still on Kara as she walks out of her office. Lexa smirks.

“You hate being called Lee. You threatened to disown me if I ever called you Lee. But you let Kara call you Lee.” Lexa repeats the name several times just because she knows it will irk Lena. “You’re such a useless lesbian.”

Lena throws her a glare through narrowed eyes. “And you hate being called Lex. As a matter of fact, Anya told me the last person who called you Lex ended up with a black eye.”

“Your point being?”

“Last week I heard Clarke say ‘Bye, Lex’ over the phone before you hung up. I’m just saying, I’m not the only useless lesbian in this family.”

“Fair enough.” Lexa retreats behind her calculus textbook, but not before Lena sees the happy little smile that can’t help but stretch over the younger girl’s face -- whether it’s at the mention of Clarke, or the word “family”, Lena will never know.

But it doesn’t matter. She’s just glad it’s there.

Eventually Lena has to tell Supergirl the truth about Lexa (I’m still undecided whether or not Lena knows that Kara is Supergirl at this point), and it causes a rift between the two of them.

Yeah, instead of a Kryptonite rift, I made Lexa the cause of the rift between Kara and Lena. Because the moment she finds out about Lexa’s true nature, the dynamic between Kara and Lexa (which had previously been friendly enough, now becomes visibly strained).

Kara becomes suspicious of Lexa. In the back of her mind, she’s like yeah she seems like a great kid, and it seems preposterous that she could hurt anyone, at this point there doesn't seem to be anything unusual about Lexa aside from her black blood

But the little voice in the back of Kara’s head pipes up ‘who's to say Lex didn't implant something in her?’ He’d already genetically engineered her, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to suspect that it was for nefarious purposes.

Kara, as Supergirl, becomes frustrated because Lena won’t even consider the possibility of running tests on Lexa.

After one particular argument between the two of them, where Kara had suggested testing for Lexa, just to make sure that she doesn't have any genetic mutations (and she's not gonna Lex out all over the place), Lena is fuming and ranting about Supergirl. 

Lexa manages to persuade her to watch movies with her while eating ice cream in bed

Lexa broaches this topic carefully over spoonfuls of Lena’s favorite coffee ice cream. "You're a scientist, Lena. Aren't you curious?"

Lena scoffs, attacking the pint with a spoon, imagining that the ice cream is Supergirl’s eyes she’s trying to gouge out. Gone is the deadly calmness she’d displayed in front of the super during their argument. Now she’s all petty spite.

"Of course i'm curious, Lexa. But I won't  let my scientific curiosity overtake my love for you.” She huffs, still seething. “This is the exact reason why Becca took you away, why she died trying to keep you from Lex. You are a person, Lexa. Not some science project. You don't deserve to be studied like a lab rat."

Lexa goes quiet for a long time. When Lena looks at her again, she finds the younger girl staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

"You love me?"

And just like that, the spite is gone, and all Lena feels is a lump in her throat.

This might be the first time Lexa ever heard someone say that to her, and the first time Lena ever said that to anyone and truly meant it.

Her face softens and she reaches out to tug softly, affectionately, on a lock of Lexa’s hair. "Of course I love you, Lexa. You're family -- probably the only real family I've had.... I love you, okay?"

Lexa seems too overcome with emotion to meet her eye, and Lena can understand that. She feels quite overwhelmed as well, but it’s a warm, lovely feeling she keeps close to her heart, not one she wants to store in a box.

So she lets Lexa look away and fiddle with her ice cream spoon. But she can hear the happiness in Lexa’s whispered "Okay."

Lexa does eventually volunteer to get tested at the DEO herself, as a sort of compromise to keep the peace between Lena and Supergirl. Also so Lexa can find out more about herself. She’s still trying to process the truth, but she’s gotten to a point where she’s developed a curiosity about her nature.

It still causes a bit of a rift between Lena and Kara, and Lena only concedes to Lexa's decision if she and an L-Corp lawyer are present during the testing to protect Lexa. 

Anya also accompanies them. At this point, I’m considering bringing Anya into the DEO, I think she’d be a perfect fit as a (somewhat rogue) field agent there.

The rift between Kara and Lena grows. Part of Kara knows she was in the wrong for insisting on experimentation for Lexa, but there’s still a need to know if there’s a threat.

The DEO doesn’t find anything, except for a minor anomaly in one of Lexa’s chromosomes. But it doesn’t seem to have an effect on her, except that it resulted in Lexa’s black blood.

At some point afterward, however, Lex is released from prison, and he discovers that Lena has found Lexa. He sets up a “nice family reunion”, renders Lena unconscious and abducts Lexa.

There’s no fear in Lexa when she first meets Lex, and that seems to please him. He’s sitting in front of a large computer machine the purpose of which eludes Lexa. He tells her about the AI he and Becca Pramheda created, A.L.I.E., and how he implanted it into Lexa’s DNA upon creating her. Becca didn’t know that his purpose for the AI was to use it to rid the world of aliens, and when she found out about it, she had immediately protested it. By that stage, however, it was too late to stop the process, the embryo had been created and Lexa was formed.

By this time, Lena has regained consciousness, and Lexa sees her signaling to keep quiet as she attempts to sneak up behind Lex. Lexa stalls him and gets him to tell her the machine’s purpose -- which is to activate A.L.I.E. remotely. 

As Lex cuts Lexa’s palm and feeds her black blood into the scanner on the machine, Lena hits him over the head and renders him unconscious before he can complete the sequence.

Lena and Lexa escape, just as Supergirl and the DEO arrive to capture Lex again. The DEO take him into custody, but instead of being hysterical, Lex just smiles at his sister and his clone.

Life almost goes back to normal again, but then one day, Lex is observed muttering a phrase in his cell. Once, twice, three times, just to make sure.

“Blood must have blood.”

At the same time, miles away across the city, Lexa drops to the floor in the middle of chemistry class, her nose bleeding.

Clarke is right beside her in seconds, but Lexa regains consciousness almost immediately, and for a half a second, Clarke sees her eyes flash, enveloped almost entirely by black. Then she’s standing up, and leaving the classroom without a word.

Clarke tries to follow her, but the teacher keeps her from leaving. The teacher does try to follow her, and doesn’t return. After a few minutes the class goes to check and finds the teacher passed out on the floor. No one knows where Lexa has gone.

The DEO gets a call about an attack that’s happening on an alien support group happening downtown. It’s a panicked 911 call from a K’Hund, screaming for help and yelling “She’s killing everyone!”

When they get there, almost everyone is dead. No less than ten aliens are lifeless on the floor. The only one left alive is the K’Hund, who lives only long enough to describe their attacker

(I had half a mind to have put Lexa in ALIE’s red dress, but overkill)

Supergirl and Alex get enough of the description to realize who it was. They quickly call Lena and devise a plan to stop and contain Lexa.

They’re too late.

Alex disconnects the call with a heavy feeling in her gut, and turns back to Lena’s office where she sees Kara, in full Supergirl regalia, reach out to touch Lena’s folded arms tentatively, as if unsure how Lena would take it. The other woman is so tense, Alex worries she’ll snap once she gives her the news.

Her gut twists for Lena, who must be sick with worry and anguish and fear and guilt. For her sister, who would never say ‘I told you so’ but ached at being proven right. 

Hell, for Lexa. Because Alex knows Lexa and she knows with wholehearted certainty that Lexa would never do this of her own free will -- not the girl who smiled shyly in response to Eliza’s motherly attention as she drew her blood for testing, not the girl who sat across from Alex at Thanksgiving and teased Kara for being such a dork around Lena, not the girl who spoke about her little brothers and sisters at the group home with such affection and pride.

By now, Kara and Lena notice her appearance. Lena squares her shoulders, and Alex knows she’s preparing for the worst. “Tell me.”

“Thirty-two people this time. She attacked a gathering of Starhavenites downtown...”  Alex informs her, straightforward but with as much gentleness as she can muster. God, forty-two aliens slaughtered by a 17 year old girl. She wishes the same fate could be visited on Lex Luthor, smiling serenely in his cell. “There is some good news: no one recognized her.”  

It is good news in a way, because this needs to be contained as much as possible, not just because of the threat, but because Lexa needs to have something to come back to when this is all over, and she won’t have that if the world knows what she’s done. 

“But... that’s only because she didn’t leave any survivors this time.”

Eventually, they manage to stop Lexa at the source. Lena figures out how to disable to computer that feeds ALIE, but the only problem is, it deactivates the ALIE chromosome inside Lexa, and Lexa’s body shuts down (just go with it, I don’t know what I’m doing).

Lexa falls into a coma, and she’s brought to the DEO. They try to revive her, but to no avail. Lena initially wants to bring her to the L-Corp labs, so she can work on a cure, but Alex tries to gently explain to her that Lexa still needs to be contained. Forty-two people are dead, whether or not Lexa was controlled by ALIE while she was doing it.

Lena complies only very reluctantly, and all but moves into the DEO to try and find a cure for Lexa. Kara helps her as much as she can, using her investigative skills to find out more about Becca Pramheda, while Lena tries to find out how to permanently inactivate the ALIE chromosome.

She leaves Sam and Jess in charge of L-Corp, and only returns there when Jess calls to tell her that a group of young students from Arkadia Prep are outside her office, insisting on seeing Lexa. 

She listens to Jess rattle off names until a voice that Lena recognizes as Clarke’s interjects impatiently “We just want to know if Lexa’s okay. Please!”

Lena returns to her office to confront Lexa’s friends. She tells them that Lexa is safe, but is being treated for a rare medical condition but is unable to receive visitors.

Everyone is convinced and reassured, except for Clarke. She hangs back after everyone has left.

“I saw her blood when she passed out with a nose bleed. It was black. My Mom is a doctor, and she says that's impossible. She says it might be an infection, or a side effect of drugs. Is it.... Oh, God...”

Clarke’s lower lip trembles as a look of utter devastation crosses her face. Her voice is small and barely above a whisper as she asks Lena “Is she dying?”

Lena nearly chokes, and she has no words of comfort that she can offer the young girl. “No.... No, but she’s not doing well.”

Clarke sniffs, tears starting to stream down her face. “I knew it. I knew when I saw her blood was black, that it wasn’t good. Oh, God, she... she can’t die. You can’t let her die.”

“She’s stable for now. As for her blood, I can’t tell you about that. It’s... it’s not my secret to tell.”

Clarke looks up at her, relief plain in her eyes at the knowledge that Lexa wasn’t in immediate danger, and gives a shaky laugh. “I thought -- I thought maybe her blood was black because she’s an alien. My best friend’s an alien. And that didn’t even bother me, that she might not be human. I don’t give a fuck. I just -- I just want her back.”

Lena manages to convince Clarke to go home, but she goes back to L Corp every day after school to ask to see Lexa. Lena knows the DEO is no place for a teenager, so she keeps refusing, until one particular day, Clarke breaks down and asks Lena to give Lexa her debate team jacket (”I just want her to have a piece of me, so she knows that she’s not alone, that I’m thinking about her.”)

Lena acquiesces, and brings the jacket to Lexa. She lays it on the bed beside the unconscious girl. Lena leaves her side for half an hour to have lunch with Kara, one of the few things that give Lena any consolation at this point. When she returns, she finds that Lexa has turned on her side and pulled Clarke’s jacket over shoulders, curling herself inside it. She takes a picture and shows it to Clarke when the girl shows up again at her office the next day.

Eventually, Kara’s journalistic skills pay off and she gets a lead. Becca's father had been a doomsday prepper in his time, and kept an old secret bunker under their family home for years. Kara and Lena find the unredacted files that Becca stole from the experiment inside it.

They discover that Becca had created a second AI, the Flame, and had encoded it into Lexa’s ALIE chromosome to act as a kill switch to safely inactivate it permanently, but she had been killed before she could begin the process.

Lena sets about rebuilding the machine Lex used to activate ALIE. On the day they’re about to use it, she brings Clarke along with her to the DEO, silently daring anyone to stop them (no one does). 

Just before they go into Lexa’s room, Lena stops Clarke.

“You should tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Clarke asks, confused and impatient to go in and see Lexa.

“Tell her you’re in love with her.”

Clarke’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t say anything. She just goes into the room and takes Lexa’s still hand. Lena takes the other arm and draws some of her black blood, feeding it into the machine. It starts whirring and Lena takes a deep breath before reciting the phrase she found in Becca’s notes

“Ascende Superius.”

On the bed, Lexa begins to stir. When Lexa’s eyes open, Clarke begins to cry, tangling their fingers together and pressing them to her lips.

Lena smiles and motions for Kara to follow her out of the room. Kara looks at her curiously. “You don’t wanna talk to her?”

Lena shakes her head as she looks at the two girls in the room, their foreheads touching, Clarke whispering something unintelligible in Lexa’s ear. “I think what Clarke has to say is more important.”

Kara nods, and she’s about to walk away, to tell Alex the good news, but Lena stops her with a hand on her wrist. “I have something to say as well.”

Kara waits patiently as Lena takes a deep breath, and watches curiously with cheeks tinted lightly pink when she steps closer. “I wanted to thank you, Supergirl.”

“For what?”

Lena exhales shakily. “For... For everything. For not saying ‘I told you so’ when it turned out that you were right. For staying all this time. For caring about Lexa. For not blaming her for all those deaths. For working so tirelessly with me to make sure we found a cure for her. For making sure I didn’t drown in guilt over what happened. For those daily lunches that were my saving grace. Just.... for everything.Thank you.”

Kara sees Lena lean closer, and before she can stop herself, she turns her head ever so slightly, so that Lena’s soft kiss to her cheek presses to her lips instead.

She closes her eyes and forgets to breathe.

And for one breathless second, Lena pulls away the barest inch, so that her own name whispers against her lips. “Kara...”

Kara’s eyes flutter open in shock. “You know?”

Lena nods, still not moving farther away from Kara when she would have thought that the truth would send Lena running away in anger. “I do.”

“Lena --” Kara’s voice breaks, and her hands come up to grasp Lena’s arms almost desperately, and miraculously, Lena clings back, just as tightly, with one hand, while the other comes up to touch Kara’s cheek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how to--”

Lena shushes her with a finger to her lips. “Your actions always speak better than your words, Kara. After everything you’ve done for me, for Lexa....”

“For you.” Kara cradles Lena’s face in her hands, blue eyes earnestly seeking green. “Yes, it was for Lexa, but you have to know, it was all for you, Lena. All of it. Everything. For you.”

Lena silences her desperate words with a kiss, and Kara exhales into her mouth with relief. Their lips slide together sweetly, and Kara wants to cry, because it feels so much like coming home.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Alex’s exasperated voice rings out somewhere behind Kara. “I just left a scene like this in Lexa’s room. Jesus! Just so you know, Lexa is fine. So please, for the love of God, Lena, get your tongue out of my sister’s mouth, and take Lexa and her girlfriend home so you Luthors can stop gaying up the DEO.”

Lena laughs into Kara’s mouth, just as she pulls away, and Kara wants to chase after her lips to chase the delicious vibrations of that laugh again. “You do an excellent job of that all by yourself, even without our help, Agent Danvers.”

“Fuck you, Luthor.”

_________________

By SorrowsFlower

Oh, thank God. I finally managed to get this out of my head! It’s been stuck in there for so long. Hopefully, this is enough to exorcise it.

[club40audio]

The Olde Towen Buffet

I will be posting, Chapter by chapter, my #Lovecraftian #CosmicHorror #Horror Novel “The Olde Towen Buffet” If you enjoy what you are reading, I encourage you to get ahead of the curve and buy the complete book for $5 (Kindle, $15 in print), or read it #Free on #KindleUnlimited. Also this novel is written, edited, and corrected by me alone, I would be grateful to you #GrammarNazis if you would point out my missteps, and how to correct them in the comments. So that I can improve the #Kindle book. Respectful Criticism, is welcome. I am interested to know your thoughts Chapter by Chapter! (I will not be correcting the bad "returns" and such that seem to be happening as I copy and paste. If this is a problem for you, again, please read the book off of the Kindle book, where these problems do not exist.:) )

Prologue: 

He stood there in the darkness. The sound of chanting voices filling the chamber. He could feel the power pulsing through him, the same power that held him in place and made him unable to move, like a painless, paralyzing, electricity. This was it. This was what he had longed for all his life. He wanted this.  When the time came he would do anything for it. The changes had already begun to take place in him, and oh how wonderful they were. There had been no resistance. When the work was begun in him he hardly knew anything was happening at all… But soon it had been undeniable. Now he stood in the darkness as the flames danced before him casting his shadow on the wall. From somewhere off to his left, he heard the distant wailing cries of the woman he had once thought of as his wife; the woman who he once thought the most important thing in his puny existence. But now he understood so much more. Now he was part of something bigger.  Something... cosmic. She was nothing. Her sobbing would soon be silenced and no longer of any account. She cried his name over and over; pleading with him to break free, to come away with her, but freedom was an illusion, and it meant nothing without power. And this was power.  Her face was beaten and bloody, and seeing that might have once elicited some emotion from him, but now he was beyond such things. Let it happen. Let it come now. No more waiting.  He wanted it to be over. He wanted it to begin. He wanted the power; the strength. All the might which had been conveyed upon him this night was but a taste of what was to come. When he had fully given himself over, when the darkness was embraced, then he would know this strength a thousand-fold. He would do anything, give anything; be anything that was required of him, so long as he could have this.  He had always thought that if somehow this boon was bestowed upon him, that his first goal would be vengeance. He had been sure that he would hunt down all those who had wounded him every day of his life; his father first and foremost of all.  He remembered the plans he had for the boss at the job he had so recently been fired from; Mr. Williams. The man for whom he had worked for nearly fifteen years and who now had ruined him. His life and career were over, not only at his law office, but for all legal work.  He thought of hunting down the girls who had rejected him in High School and even the bullies of the playground.  Yes!  How they would have all paid for what they had done. Anyone who had ever laughed at him, or made him feel small. He would grind their bones to meal. He remembered when he was a child how nearly every day, they had circled him chanting, “Stubby Stanley! Stubby Stanley!” and “Fatty fatty, two by four, can’t fit through the kitchen door.” and the perennial favorite, “U-G-L-Y, you ain’t got no alibi!”How they had guffawed when he couldn’t reach the monkey bars from the highest of the supports, let alone hold himself up as he tried to make his way from one bar to the next. Every time he would flop down in the hard-packed dirt below like a sack of moldy potatoes. Then his memories swirled round to the girls who had rejected him because he was shorter than they, and the slow agony he would have extracted from them. Even now when he was becoming something beyond any of their understanding, their words echoed and raced through his mind, solidifying his choice: _“What girl wants a guy they have to get down on one knee to kiss? Tony, now there’s a real man! Six-foot, two and he might get even taller!” __“Maybe I’ll let you take me out when the school has a “Date a Hobbit Dance!” “Do I look like my name is Esmeralda?  ‘Cause I sure ain’t walking around on the arm of no Quasimodo!”  _“Hey, short stuff! Get that ball from off the wall rack!” The coach had shouted at him, knowing he would have to climb up the rack to reach the only ball that was left at the very top. And when the rack had tipped over, as he knew it would, smashing him to the floor bruising his ribs, the coach had called out as the other boys laughed, “If you can’t get hold of a ball when it's sitting on a rack, how do you ever expect to play on my team? Get off the field, and don’t come back Short Stuff!” Then there had been his father: _“Look at him Natalie, he’s sixteen and he barely comes up to my chest! He’ll never bee any good at sports! He’s too small and weak for football. He’s far too short for basketball and he’s got zero hand-eye coordination! My only son is a runt! He’s not even good at academics! And here you are, mollycoddling him! He’s never going to amount to anything!”_  All this and more swirled about in his head, but now he had no thought for revenge, it was all behind him. So small and petty. Now he had worlds to conquer, soon all would bow before the might that was flowing into him. He could feel it coiling through him like a plant; like a vine, it was wrapping around his limbs and sinking into them, imbuing them with a virility he had never known, never could have known, but for the events of this strange night.  The sound of chanting in the darkness had ceased. Had it only stopped now, or was it some time ago? Trapped in a delicious trance of power and haze of remembrance he couldn’t be sure. But now the shadows on the wall were changing, were different, undulating with a light far stranger than any fire could produce. He knew, at last, the time had come. He was about to gaze upon his new master for the first time. He would joyfully submit. He would accept any contract, make any deal. This was all he had ever wanted. He felt the restraining power lift from him, and he could move once again. He lifted his eyes to see a sight that might have driven others mad. But to him it was beautiful. It was this one who had made a new life possible, and from somewhere deep inside himself, he heard his master’s voice speak his name for the first time.

1  “Doggone it!” Ally cursed, straining, stretching as high as she could, “Who built this place! Andre the Giant?” “No, it just wasn’t built for Gnomes.” Said her husband, effortlessly reaching up and taking down the suitcase, he had placed on the rack the night before, the handle of which had just evaded his wife’s grasp.   He handed it over to her as she huffed a begrudging, “Thanks.” And then mumbled, _“For nothing.” _Under her breath. Mark laughed, “Hey don’t hold it against me, I didn’t write your genetic code.” He flopped on to the bed, making the suitcase wobble, as his wife was reloaded it with all of her do-dads and whatnots that seemed so necessary for the care of her appearance. The trip was only going to last a week, but she seemed to have brought enough clothes for three. Then there were  the two extra, small suitcases, full of nothing but beauty care. The total of 4 suitcases had taken up all the space that was leftover in the trunk of Marks Chevy Malibu, once the small toolbox, jack, and four-way lug wrench were pushed to the side. Mark had to put his one small suitcase in the back seat. Now, three days later, they were on their way back from California to Chicago. They had spent the night in Aurora, about 35 miles south of Boulder. They were now only 17 hours from home. It would have been 15 hours, but a major road construction project had begun just after they had passed through on Route 76, on the way to California.   Already at 9 am, traffic was backed up.  According to the Mapping app on their phones, going back that way would have added nearly five hours to their trip. Mark had asked his wife to remind him to take route 70, in the morning so they could avoid that nightmare.  It came to her mind as she fit her curling iron and hairdryer back into the already cramped suitcase. “I wish we didn’t have to go around the construction, I hate Kansas.” “What’s the matter with Kansas?” asked Mark, “I love all that farmland, especially this time of year, just before the harvest. All those fields of green. It's beautiful.” “It's boring. Flat straight and goes on for what feels like forever! Did you know there are more single-vehicle accidents in Kansas per-capita than any other state? People get hypnotized out there driving on the roads alone, and when the road turns, they don’t. They go flying off into a ditch somewhere, and drown in a creek bed.” “Where did you read that?” Mark asked laughing to himself. “Oh on the internet somewhere…. Which reminds me I better check my phone while we still have service, I just know we’re going to get out there and lose signal.” “Our service plan covers 95% of the landmass of the continental US, according to the commercials.” “Yeah, and we are going to be driving right through that remaining 5%.” She said snapping the clasps on the suitcase into place, “I guess that’s everything.” “Don’t forget your make-up kit, Shawty,” Mark said, affecting an accent. Ally looked up and groaned. There, on top of the rack was her black plastic make up kit, with all her various blushes and brushes. “I’m never going to reach that. Why did you put it up there?” “Why did you even unpack it?” Mark replied, not moving from the bed, “When we were in LA, that made sense, you were getting all gussied up for the dinner. That made sense.” He repeated. “But last night you were getting ready for bed, and you took it out of your suitcase.  There’s nobody here but me, and you know you shouldn't wear makeup to bed. And then, you didn’t even use it.” “I was setting it out for the morning, I was planning to put my face on before we left, but I couldn’t find it.  I figured it had gotten buried in the clothes and I didn’t want to dig it out.” Ally said, annoyed. “Put your face on? For what? The drive home? You and me and miles and miles of corn?” He got up off the bed and moved toward her. “Besides I think my wittle munchkin looks so much better without her make-up.” He said affecting a “baby-talk” voice. She punched him in the bicep, hard enough to sting but not to truly hurt. “Ouch!” he said, playing it up. “Stop picking on my height. You know I’m sensitive about it.” “But you are just so cude!” He said, still in baby-talk, wrapping her in his arms, which from fingertip to fingertip of the opposite hand, were exactly 5 feet, 11 inches, perfectly proportionate to his height, “I wuv my Widdle Baby Wifey!” He picked her up and spun her around. “Stop that!” She said half laughing, “Put me down!” she said, even though he already had. “I may be only 5 feet tall but I’ll kick your butt anyway.” He laughed and reached up for the make-up kit, handing it to her. “Here you go Smurfette.” She ignored the jibe and reopened her make up suitcase, “Why’d you put it up so high?” “Because you had it on the sink and I needed to shave.  I didn’t want to ruin anything, with drops of water flying everywhere…. And I did that so you’d need me to get it down for you later… I have to remind you how much you need me every once in a while… Just in case you get complacent, or think you can do better.” Ally laughed, snapping the suitcase closed again, “I know I can do better, I’ve just grown accustomed to you.” “You know, that’s right.” Mark said with a toothy grin.

[glitterarygetsit]

B, L, W, Z for the books and you ask!

Thank you! I already did L, so here are the others:

B: What’s your most expensive book?

I think it’s probably Cultures in Contact: Scandinavian Settlement in England in the Ninth and Tenth Centuries, which @corvus-pica-pica is currently looking after for me. If I remember correctly, it cost me £80 including postage in my second or third year of my undergrad (£80 is a lot for a book but it’s a fortune when you’re a student), but I then used it for pretty much every essay I wrote from that point onwards. When I bought it, it was pretty much the only volume of essays on Anglo-Scandinavian interaction available, and that’s my academic jam. There’s a lot more research in that field now, and sometimes I do regret not riding the topic as it grew more popular, but academia is not a healthy environment so I’m probably better off as a translator, which I am very good at and is a lot less stressful and exploitative. 

W: If you had to eat the same thing every day for a week, what would you choose?

I’m assuming this is for dinner, because frankly my breakfast is the same nearly every day anyway (v cronchy muesli mix and vanilla soy yoghurt). Um, I’m going to go with something like a veggie and tofu stir fry, because it’s got a bit of variety built in and won’t make me feel disgusting for a lack of green things. I’d also be sad if I got so sick of eating something I loved that I didn’t want it anymore. 

BUT here are my options if we’re living dangerously: 

The chicken soup my housemate reverse-engineered to be exactly like my the one my Zeide makes (seriously, my housemate/platonic life partner is the best) 

Or the tagliolini al tartufo pasta from our favourite Italian place (they scrape cheese shavings into the middle of a giant wheel of grana padano and set it on FIRE with grappa and then serve the melty deliciousness with shaved truffles and it costs twice as much as any other pasta on the menu but it’s WORTH IT). 

Khoresh fesenjaan, which is a Persian stew made of walnuts, pomegranate molasses, onions and chicken and it’s INCREDIBLE (I had to learn to make it myself after the restaurant in Leeds where I first tried it stopped making it because it takes about 4-5 hours, but again, WORTH IT) 

And for snacks, mojo picon olives, which are unbelievably delicious (they’re a Valencian thing and I have tried and failed to make them at home so I just look forward to them all year because I go to Valencia every January so my SAD doesn’t overwhelm me) and also baba ganoush, which has no right to be as delicious as it is when aubergines are so horrible and I don’t even like tahini.

Z: If you wrote a book, what would it be about?

The common thread in my favourite books is normal people being pulled into magical fantasy worlds just next to our own, so that would definitely feature. I’ve got a concept set in York which involves time travel, and another with a fairyland based on the Wieliczka salt mine, but I haven’t worked on either of those for a long time. Writing is super hard work and though I’d love to finish a novel I’m not sure I want to go through the process badly enough to give up that much of my free time.

[lovelylunarwriting]

Hufflepuff!Seokmin x Ravenclaw!Reader

To say that you’re tired would be the understatement of the century.

You’re exhausted, but you’re determined to place first in your class this year academically.

Last year you came in second and that just wasn’t good enough for you tbh. You wanted to be the best.

So that’s why this year, you spend all of your free time studying.

And when I say all of your free time, I mean a l l of it.

Walking to classes while memorizing potions formulas.

Practicing incantations while brushing your teeth.

Any moment you’re not doing something- you’re studying.

Except for when you’re sleeping. Which is also all the time.

Because that much cramming is soooo mentally draining.

Your friends don’t know how you live like this but they don’t tell you that they’re worried because you’re testing well and they know that’s what you want.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” is basically how your friends view the situation.

So if you’re not studying, you’re napping. And if you’re not sleeping, you’re cramming. It’s an endless cycle.

This leads to you falling asleep in an array of odd places. From passing out in a chair in the library, falling out of it and just sleeping on the floor instead, to falling asleep in the quidditch stadium bleachers and being startled awake when everyone jumps up and cheers because Ravenclaw scores.

But like, hey- you’re not bothering anyone with your sleeping and studying habits, so there’s no problem, right?

Wrong. Because this does bother one person, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He knows you as “that exhausted overachiever”, which like. Isn’t entirely inaccurate.

This person is Seokmin. He doesn’t know you personally, and as a Hufflepuff, he’s not even in your house, so why is he so bothered?

Because this boy is a worrier. He just wants everyone to be well and happy, regardless of his personal connection to them, and to him you seem miserable.

And honestly- you are. But now in Ravenclaw, you’ve gotten the reputation as “the prime example of the Ravenclaw House”, and that’s not something you want to lose by stopping what you’re doing.

But at the same time, you’re compromising your own happiness, so even though you feel like a winner, you don’t feel like you’re winning, if that makes sense.

Like the “yay! I got what I wanted!” feeling is there, but on top of that is the “The way I got what I wanted hurts like hell and I can’t exactly stop now” feeling.

And even though your friends disregard your well-being due to your success, Seokmin is not having it.

He’s seen you cram, study, and fall asleep in every part of this castle at every hour of the day and one day, he decides that he can’t just sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore.

So when you feel someone shaking your arm, waking you up from your position at the Ravenclaw table in the Grand Hall, the last person you expect to see when you open your eyes is the prettiest Hufflepuff boy you’ve ever seen.

And he looks so upset.

Before you can even ask what he’s doing, he’s already talking a mile a minute.

“Hi I’m Seokmin and I know you don’t know me but I’ve been seeing you around the castle and you just look so tired and are you okay?? and now you’re crying- oh my gosh did I make you cry???”

The combination of being completely exhausted, having just woken up, and someone actually showing genuine concern for you has turned you into an emotional disaster.

Like “NO I’m not okay I’m up here studying myself to death”

But also now you’re a blubbering mess in front of this cute boy who you’re just meeting for the first time… talk about first impressions.

He’s like “uhhhh do you wanna go talk about it?” and you nod, letting him lead you out into the hall.

But the hall is bustling full of people so you end up walking until you find a more secluded corridor to have a private conversation.

You went from sleeping in the Grand Hall to explaining your behavior to a beautiful stranger all too quickly for your brain to be able to handle what the heck is going on.

He speaks up before you can gather your thoughts, but he talks to you in a gentle voice, instead of the interrogation attitude you were expecting.

Seokmin: “Do you have that disorder where you spontaneously fall asleep?”

You: “No?? I just am tired from studying”

Seokmin: “You’re that tired?”

You: “...yes”

Seokmin: “Exactly how much are you studying??”

You: “Every chance I get, really”

Seokmin: “But do you have to study all the time?”

You: “If I want to keep being the best, then yeah I do”

Seokmin: “All the success in the world means nothing if it kills you in the process”

At this point you look like you’re gonna cry again and Seokmin can see that you’re tearing up.

Seokmin: “Look, I’m not trying to be judgey. I’m just really worried that-”, he starts, but comes to an abrupt stop when you throw yourself into his arms.

This time the tears are happy, weight-lifted off your shoulders, tears.

You’re just so relieved because finally- someone actually cares about your well-being and not just the fact that you’re doing well in school.

Seokmin smiles softly down at you and pats your back to try and be comforting.

The two of you stay like that for a little while until you clear your throat awkwardly and pull back from the embrace because “oh wow I just threw myself into the comforting embrace of the guy I just?? met???”

He doesn’t seem offended by your sudden retraction though, he just grins at you as if this is the most normal situation in the world.

“Here, I’ve got something I think will help”, he says, grabbing your hand and lacing his finger with yours.

Following Seokmin down the hall and outside to the grounds, the two of you walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence, considering the way you met.

The fact that he still has a tight grip on your hand isn't helping with the fast-developing crush you feel coming on.

Because wow, this boy has swept you off your feet- he cares about you?? just out of the kindness of his heart?? And happens to be gorgeous.

What person wouldn't be falling for him at this point

By the time you're about done contemplating The Feelings™ you feel yourself catching, Seokmin comes to an sudden stop, causing you to run straight into his back.

Seokmin: “Ah, not paying attention, are we?”, he teases.

You: “Just lost in thought I guess”

Seokmin: “See that's the problem with Ravenclaws sometimes, you all do so much thinking that you never make time to just have fun, which is what we're doing now”, he announces and gestures to the many different animal and mystical creature pens.

You: “We can't be here unsupervised! What if something happens with one of the animals? What if one of us gets hurt?”

Seokmin: “Well then we won't pet the bitey ones. C’mon!”

Feeling like it would be too awkward to decline after walking all the way down here, you agree and timidly reach out to the fluffy creature Seokmin pulls out of one of the cages.

The little ball of fluff jumps onto your shoulder and drapes itself across your neck.

Seokmin laughs as you visibly tense up, half flattered by the creature’s affection and half scared that it’ll attack you.

You: “Please tell me this one’s harmless?”

Seokmin: “Oh she wouldn’t hurt a fly, don’t worry!”

Reaching up and scratching behind her ears, she licks your hand gratefully.

The initial fear of the situation is long gone, and you and Seokmin spend what feels like hours just playing with all the fun animals.

All good things must come to an end however, and in this particular instance it ends with a Giant Slug projectile shooting slime all over Seokmin’s robes.

You: “That’s disgusting”

Seokmin: “I’m well aware- thank you for the support. Let’s head back so I can get cleaned up”

Making your way back up to the castle is a stark contrast from your walk down to the castle grounds earlier in the day- Seokmin does not stop talking.

And that’s not a bad thing at all, you’re thrilled to hear everything he has to say. It’s not one of those trying-to-be-polite-by-listening-to-you-ramble kind of situations, because he’s a hilarious dude and practically everything he has to say is interesting.

You’re so wrapped up in conversation with him that you don’t even realize he’s led you all the way to the Ravenclaw commons.

Seokmin: “It’s getting late- you should head in and get some rest”

You: “...you know, normally I’d study for an hour before heading to bed but tonight I think I’ll go straight to sleep”

Seokmin: “Oh really? Why the sudden change of heart?”

You: “Well you came barging into my life and suddenly spit out good advice so. I’m taking it to heart”

Seokmin: “...I mean yeah, but didn’t you say you have a big Charms test tomorrow?”

You: “Oh crap, I comepletely forgot about that. Okay- I promise not to work myself too hard tonight”

Seokmin: “Pinky swear it”

You: “Yes, sir!”, you say and jokingly salute him before wrapping your pinky around his.

Lying in bed after some very light studying, you don’t think of tomorrow’s test or upcoming assignments. You dream of the smiley boy that turned your world upside down in less than a day.

The next morning you wake up, throw on whatever comfy clothes you can find, and make the groggy trek to the Grand Hall for a yummy breakfast before classes.

Sitting down in your normal spot at the Ravenclaw table, right next to Wonwoo, you munch on pancakes while reading one of your favorite books.

It feels nice to be reading something simply for leisure instead of the usual vigorous annotating of whatever textbook you happen to pick up on your way out the door.

Breakfast with Wonwoo is always a peacefully quiet start to the day. You’re reading, and Wonwoo… well he just doesn’t talk that much in the first place, but especially not so early in the morning.

The next handful of days go by at what seems like the slowest pace possible, and every class, meal, and even leisure time is mundane.

Since you stopped studying yourself to death, you thought that things would cheer up and that life would be exciting again, but due to the ever apparent absence of Seokmin, the literal sun, nothing is as fun as you’d hoped.

Most of the time you find yourself thinking “oh but wouldn’t this be better if he was here with me”

And that’s the thing- he hasn’t exactly checked in.

Ever since spending that one afternoon with him, him making you smile so hard your cheek muscles hurt from overuse, the two of you wave at one another in the halls and exchange a simple “hello” and “hi!” in passing.

But that’s about it…

That one day with Seokmin was the most fun you’d had all year, and isn’t something- or someone for that matter- that you want to let go of so easily.

How exactly do you say “Hey I have a major crush on you and want to spend time with you” without putting your whole heart on the line.

Exactly. It’s impossible, which is why it takes the push of a friend to get you to do something.

One morning at breakfast, Wonwoo actually speaks. To you.

Wonwoo: “Y/N, why do you seem more miserable than normal?”

You: “...are you saying that I normally look miserable”

Wonwoo: “I mean yeah, with all that constant cramming, anyone would. You’re stopped studying but you still seem… down”

You: “Well, there’s this guy. And I wanna be someone special to him because he’s someone very special to me but… I’m not sure how I would go about making that happen”

Wonwoo: “Have you considered telling him that?”

You: “NO! Are you crazy?! Then he’ll know I like him!”

Wonwoo: “Isn’t that the point???”

You: “I guess so but?? It’s still so embarrassing to actually say out loud to someone”

Wonwoo: “More embarrassing than wussing out and never getting anywhere with this guy?”

You: “...point taken. But if I confess, you’re doing my potions lab reports for the next week”

Wonwoo: “Ugh, I hate potions. If it’ll get the rain cloud above you to stop pouring though, I’ll agree to your terms. You’ve got yourself a deal”

The only problem with this next plan of action is trying to find Seokmin alone to talk to. It seems like there’s always someone telling him a story or sharing a laugh with him.

It’s not his fault that his friendliness draws people to him, but it’s damn inconvenient, to say the least.

Then a thought occurs- “doesn’t he usually go visit the magical creatures by himself?”

Checking every classroom, hall, nook and cranny of the castle- Seokmin is nowhere to be found. Inside the building that is.

Dashing out of the gargantuan stone building and stumbling downhill to the edge of the forest where the magical creature pens are, you’re not surprised when you see Seokmin cradling a plush creature in his toned arms.

It is surprising however to see the solemn look on his face.

It never occurred to you that someone who radiates happiness would hide themselves away in moments of sorrow, but you guess it makes sense.

Taking a few steps towards him, the crunching of leaves with each step gives you away.

The frown that was there a fraction of a second ago is replaced with an over-exaggerated grin.

That is until his eyes meet yours. He drops the cheerful act but doesn’t go back to brooding. He just sits there on the smooth tree stump with a look on his face that you can’t quite place. Something glad, yet nervous.

You: “I uh- I was looking for you”, you say, suddenly feeling somewhat nervous yourself.

Seokmin: “Found me, I guess. Took you long enough”, he mutters to himself mostly, but loud enough to be able to hear clearly.

You: “Excuse me?”

Seokmin: “Other than a wave hello here and there, it doesn’t seem like you want much from me, so why are you here?”, he asks, the hurt evident in his voice.

It wasn’t like you were trying to ignore him, it’s just hard to say exactly how you feel. Putting yourself out there is always difficult, but when you really care about the person, it becomes a thousand times harder.

You: “I… I missed you”, you confess.

Seokmin: “You- you what?”

You: “I said I miss you! I’m here because I want more than just a hello in passing. I don’t want to always be passing you, I want to s t a y with you. If you’ll let me”

Seokmin: “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”, he says, his voice doing a 180 flip from the dejected tone he’d been using before.

You: “Gosh, do I really have to say it?”, you say, covering your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment.

Seokmin: “I’d kind of love it if you did”, he teases.

You: “I like you. Please go out with me”

Seokmin: “Now was that really that hard?”

You: “Yes!”, you answer, no hesitation.

Seokmin: “How about a first date with me and this lil fluffy guy?”, he asks, holding up the creature in the air, Lion King style.

You: “Sounds about perfect to me, just be careful!! With that!”

From there on out, you get to be the significant other of the actual sun.

Seokmin is such a radiant and positive person that just being around him puts you in a better mood.

Which is why if he sees that you’re having a bad day, he’ll tag along with whatever you’re doing and just having him there with you lets you relax a bit.

Dates where you just. Go pet animals is a frequent occurrence.

And since not many students are dumb enough to go play with these creatures unsupervised, it’s become you and Seokmin’s little hideaway.

Honestly you don’t know how he’s survived this long going by himself because sometimes an animal will just?? Attack him?? and he doesn’t notice

You: “Hey babe I’m pretty sure that rainbow beetle is biting you”

Seokmin: “Is it?? Oh well”

You: “Do?! Something!!”

You take it upon yourself to make sure that that doesn’t happen again.

The two of you mostly pet the furry pet-like creatures, but Seokmin thinks some of the bugs are cool so he likes to let them walk across his hand.

One day, you’re like “hey if you like bugs so much, why not pick up one of the spiders?”, and he’s like “hun I like beetles because they’re shiny but I’m not a freaking craZY perSoN”

As far as academics go, you’re not #1 in every subject anymore, and you’re 100% okay with that.

You learned that it’s better to be happy and average than to be the best and miserable.

If it looks like you’re working too hard in a class, Seokmin gives you the Motherly Disapproval Look™ and you’re like “crap, you’re right- let’s go get icecream or something”

Wonwoo is mad that he has to do your potions work for a week but does it reluctantly because “a promise is a promise”

By the last day though, he’s had enough. Instead of writing an actual lab report, he just turns in an essay on how if you hadn’t listened to him about talking to Seokmin, you’d be a “boyfriendless loser workaholic”