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hwanchaesong · 1 year ago

Text

Cupid

Park Seonghwa X Reader

summary: it seems that fate itself is playing a game with you when it turned fiction into reality. what will you do to go back? what if you don't want to go back?

genre & warnings: fluff, angst, historical au with a touch of magic lol, this was inspired by Howl's Moving Castle (pls do watch ghibli movies, they are amazing), mild cursing, war and fighting, mentions of blood and injuries, slowburn

word count: 7.4k

a/n: here ya go againn @marievllr-abg sorry it took a bit for me to post this bc i obviously got carried away but i hope you'll like it 💚

You sighed dreamily, staring at the sentences of the book that you're reading, "I want a love story like this."

Your roommate, Yunjin, rolled her eyes at you before throwing a pillow in your direction, "Stop fantasizing about fictional stories and characters."

"I can't help it!" you pout, throwing the pillow back to her which she easily caught with a giggle. "Let me have my moment, please."

"Alright, alright." she raised her hands up in defeat, laying down in her bed and looking at you, "What if you get your own boyfriend?"

You scoffed, putting the book down on your table and making yourself comfortable in your own mattress, "That's ridiculous. Besides, boys in our university sucks."

She shrugged, understanding your point of view, "If you say so."

There was a moment of silence before your friend spoke again, "There's this guy in my class, Lee Chan h-"

"Yunjin." you deadpanned, "Drop it, let's sleep, we have early classes tomorrow."

"Geez, yes ma'am. Goodnight ma'am."

You laughed at her reply, "Goodnight Yunjin."

You were in a deep slumber when suddenly you couldn't breathe and cold shivers ran down your spine. It's like you were held down by some unseen force.

You opened your eyes in a haze, you were in your room but everything was distorted. You tilted your neck to check if Yunjin is still there but her side was empty.

What the hell is happening?

A loud rumble made your heart leap out of your chest.

You tried to get up, to yell, anything but to no avail.

Is this some kind of witchcraft? Who would even do this to you? All your life you did your best to be cooperative and nice to people, even strangers. So, what did you do wrong?

Your tears were threatening to spill, your voice coming back for you to shrill when a blackhole appeared and sucked you in.

Then everything went black, your consciousness faded into nothingness.

"Y/N? Wake up."

You felt light taps on your cheek, a melodic voice pleading for you to get up.

You feel tired, like you worked your ass off since birth and nothing more would please you if you're able to sleep in.

"Y/N! Come on, Miss Hatter needs your assistance. We have a lot of customers for today."

Miss Hatter? Who the fuck?

You jolted out of the comforters, your eyes bleary as it tried to adjust to the sudden brightness.

The room you're in is completely different from your apartment. Wooden floor, wooden walls, and the woman standing in front of you is definitely not Yunjin.

You squinted your eyes, "Who are you?"

She looked taken aback at your question, "It's me, Jieun."

She stared at you, worried at your well being because for her, you're acting really weird.

"Jieun?" you asked once more, the name sounds familiar to you.

"Yes." she answered immediately with a soft smile on her lips, she walked over to your closet, bringing out a vintage dress that you're sure you have never worn in your entire lifetime.

"I guess you're still distraught." she held a hand for you to take, "It's okay, getting attacked by the guards must be really scary."

Huh? You were attacked by what?

You accepted her help, taking advantage of the situation to ask for more information which she gladly filled.

Damn, it's either you're a great actress or Jieun's just too kind to point out how peculiar you are acting.

You were sorting all the newfound knowledge in your brain as you followed Jieun downstairs.

You work as a hatter and got trapped by some shitty guards yesterday. There's a war going on between two nations so you should be more careful when going home at night. And there's something about sorcerers and witches that c-

"Isn't that Jongsuk's castle!?"

The booming voices, which you assumed are the other female hatters, caught your attention.

Then it dawned on you.

The names of the people, the place you're in, the work that you have, and now you hear the words 'Jongsuk's castle.'

It's easy to put two or two together, especially if you are absolutely familiar with it.

The situation at hand, or the plot, is the one that you were reading before you went to sleep.

"Fuck." you cursed under your breath which made Jieun turn around, a questioning look on her face.

"What did you say?"

"Oh um." you racked your mind for any reply, and you ended up asking about the castle.

"Ah," she smiled at you, opening the door to the room where you design the hats for the customers, "Jongsuk's castle."

She sat down and you followed suit, mimicking her actions on how she works with the hats as she explains the tale of the castle to you.

"That moving castle is owned by a wicked wizard who eats the hearts of the girls that he finds pretty." she puts the hat down for a second, "That's why you need to be careful."

You couldn't help but be awed. She's truly kind, a warm person where you can find comfort in. No wonder the 'wicked wizard' fell in love with her.

You cleared your throat, focusing your attention back to the hat you're struggling with, "You should too."

You heard her chuckle, "I don't need to worry about that."

You froze on your spot and a wave of sadness washed over your being.

Right, Jieun never saw her self as a beautiful woman. All that she ever thought is that she's unworthy of love, destined to be alone.

"That's not true," you stood up from your seat, putting your hands on her shoulders, "you're pretty!"

She looks shocked from your outburst, there were a few seconds of pause before she started laughing, "Thank you, Y/N."

Her genuine smile made you happy as well. You sit back down and continue to work in comfortable silence, side by side with Jieun.

Time ticked by without you even noticing it, getting startled when Miss Hatter barged into the room, telling the both of you to go home.

"You can go first," Jieun said after walking out of the shop, "I have to visit my sister."

You nodded your head and bade goodbye to her, walking in a different direction and suddenly you wanted to hit yourself.

Where the heck do you live here?

You woke up this morning in a room, inside the damned shop. Why were you there in the first place? Did you sleep over? If so, then you'll just go back and spend the rest of your night there again. Maybe you can think things through in there and find a way to return to your world.

You turn on your heels, ready to walk towards the shop when a begging voice echoed in the area.

"Is someone there?! I can hear your footsteps, please help me!"

You stood there for a while, contemplating whether to help the guy or just leave. There's nothing wrong about going in there to see what's up, but hey, even in this fictional world, scam is still everywhere.

In the end, your curiosity got the best of you. Deciding to help the poor man (which hasn't stopped talking at all).

You were flabbergasted when you saw the state he's in. Body upside down and.. in a trashcan?

"What the hell?" you said, voice quiet but loud enough for the stranger to hear.

"Oh thank god someone's here." he sighed of relief, then you saw him point his foot to the left, "Can you please pick that sword and give it to me?"

What? That sword is more important than fixing his position?

"Are you sure you don't want me to help you with.. that?" you pointed at him, not that he can see you, but he did get what you were saying.

"No, please, don't come near me. This trashcan might eat you."

Your eyes widened, but then again, what would you expect? You are in a magical world, anything can happen.

You cautiously walked towards the sword, picking it up and throwing it to the guy. The metal miraculously floats, attacking the trashcan and you might be going crazy but you did hear the dumpster whine out of pain. Soon enough, the can started wheezing and spat out a dashing young man.

The can started running away, the clinking sounds fading away in the darkness as the lying figure started laughing, "That's it! Run away you coward!" he yelled, standing up and turning towards you.

"You're a life saver!" he beamed at you, his puppy-like face a contrast to his deep voice.

"No, no. You're welcome I- what are you doing?" you exclaimed, watching him kneel down and bow down to you.

"I'm expressing my gratitude." he replied, nudging at the sword beside him, "Alfredo, c'mon, stop acting like a kid."

You feel like fainting when the sword stood up by itself, bending over like a piece of rubber.

"Stop, okay, please stand." you went closer to them, not exactly knowing what to do but you already deemed them harmless. "Raise your heads, I'm glad I can be of help."

The stranger rose to his feet, offering you a handshake, "The name is Seonghwa, and this sword right here is my partner, Alfredo. Pleasure to meet a gorgeous lady like you."

You blushed a bit, accepting the shake and introducing yourself as well. You were about to excuse yourself but you were glued to the ground. Not one muscle you can move.

The once friendly looking man scowled, "You're not from here."

Shit.

He clasped his sword, pointing the blade at the base of your neck, "Did the Witch of the Waste send you here?"

"The fuck are you on about?" you glared at him, "I don't even know why I'm in this world!"

He raised an eyebrow, lowering his sword, "This world? You're not from another nation?"

"No." you growled, and maybe you were too out of it. Thinking of many things at the same time that you blurted everything out to some dude that you barely know. Telling him about your country, your mundane life, and that you're supposed to be sleeping right now with your bestfriend on the other side of the apartment.

Seonghwa was baffled, your word vomit almost didn't make sense but as a wizard himself, he knew that making up lies that coherent would be difficult.

You must be telling the truth, but this is one uncanny situation you're in.

"You're here for a reason." he blurted out, making you stop and think for a second.

What reason?

You're an average person born in an average family. A college student with only one trusted friend. You get good grades and don't struggle financially. You live a fine life. Yes, it's given that you are an avid reader of romance books that you sometimes wish you were a part of it.

Aye. That hits the spot perfectly. That must be it, doesn't it? Fucking fate or whatever this is, granting you the most impractical wish to ever exist.

You face palmed. Were you here to be a divine intervention or what? Maybe help Jieun in her adventure.

Jieun!

You did not notice that you are now able to move, immediately running to Jieun's house to avoid the incoming problem.

If you are here to help the protagonists of the story then so be it. If that's the only way for you to go back to your own world, then you'll gladly accept this challenge.

"Man, for a girl, you run fast."

A voice beside you grunts, your eyes falling to a gasping figure.

"Why are you following me?" you yelled, bitter at the guy who was ready to slit your throat just a few moments ago.

"I wanna help!" he replied, smiling at you innocently.

You rolled your eyes, letting him do whatever he wanted because frankly, you could care less about him for now.

It was like second nature to you, bewildered that you knew Jieun's house but you couldn't remember your own home in this world.

"Jieun!" you barged into the building, and you were shocked to see her in the corner of the room.

Her once brown hair turned into gray, her skin got wrinkly and her joints crack at every move that she made.

"Y/N?" she called out to you, walking towards you and you met her halfway, giving her a hug.

"Oh Jieun. I'm sorry I was late."

"No, this isn't your fault."

"The Witch of the Waste cursed you." Seonghwa's voice rang and you suddenly remembered that he's still following you.

"Who's he?" Jieun asked, pulling away from you and eyeing the man

"Seonghwa." you answered, facing the boy and started shooing him away.

"Hey! I said I wanna help!" he fought back, crossing his arms like a child. You were so ready to flip him off but Jieun's soft giggle stopped you in your tracks.

"It's okay, having a male with us would be beneficial." Jieun assured you, placing her hand on your arm to calm you down.

The smug expression on Seonghwa's face, paired with the sudden shining of his sword made you want to punch him but you held yourself back for Jieun's sake.

"We're going somewhere, right?" you inquired, Jieun giving you a wink before answering.

"We're going on an impromptu trip."

You thought you could handle everything well, especially since you knew what would happen but it is still surprising to find yourself inside the infamous 'Jongsuk's Moving Castle.' (courtesy by a magical scarecrow that Jieun helped on your way to the Folding Valley)

The castle is dusty and dirty, like it was uninhabited for years yet you don't have a choice but to spend the night there, sleeping in a creaky chair and tuning out Calcifer's (he's the demon fire by the furnace that controls the castle) badgering.

The next morning, you woke up when you heard a conversation between Jieun and a child.

"You're awake!" Jieun chirped, "I was about to make breakfast. The kid over there is Huening Kai."

You were confused for a while, your eyes landing on a small figure, "Oh, good morning."

"Good morning." the little kid answers, you were about to open your mouth to talk but wasn't able to when the roulette attached to the door turned and pointed at the black part.

So this is the part where you meet the infamous Jongsuk.

The door opened, revealing a handsome blonde man. His eyes roamed the room, "Seonghwa? Nice to see you here."

You glanced at the floor, seeing Seonghwa laying there leisurely.

"Yup." Seonghwa made sure that the 'p' popped at his lips, "Been a while, Jongsuk."

The two smiled at each other before the former walked towards a gaping Jieun, taking over the stove. "Didn't know you were so obedient, Calcifer."

"She forced me!" the demon argued back.

"Give me six more eggs and four pieces of bacon." Jongsuk ordered, snapping Jieun out of her reverie and immediately moving around.

When everything was set and everyone was sitting around the table, a small talk ensued. You were eating slowly, wary of the tense atmosphere.

"Huening Kai," Jongsuk started, his eyes landing on Jieun, "care to explain the situation?"

The younger boy gulped the food on his mouth, "This is Jieun and Y/N. I don't know what happened last night but Calcifer let them in."

The demon complained in the background, not liking the fact that the blame was shifted on him.

Jongsuk nodded, "I don't mind Seonghwa's presence, since he's a dear friend of mine, but what about you two?"

Jieun blinked, "We'll be your cleaning lady." she exclaimed, looking at you for support.

"Yeah," you stood up, linking your arms with her, "we'll make this place sparkly."

Jongsuk laughed, nodding his head before he went serious, "On the other note, what is it in your pocket?" he pointed at Jieun, confusing her when she discovered a piece of paper in her dress.

"I didn't know this was in here." she said, handing the paper to Jongsuk but the paper suddenly burned, the ashes making a mark on the table.

"That must be her." Seonghwa commented, sipping on his glass of water nonchalantly.

"Yes, the symbol speaks for itself." Jongsuk covered the mark with his hand, wiping it in slow motion.

"It's gone." Kai cried out, amazed at his master's magic.

"The visual is gone," he said, peeking at his palm that bears a slight burn, "but the sorcery is already engraved here."

Jongsuk rose and held his untouched plate, feeding the contents to Calcifer who hummed in delight. "I'll go for now, Kai, please tell our caretakers to not get carried away."

Then he was out of the door, leaving all of you by yourselves.

"Master is usually gone for a while, " Kai speaks, taking out the empty plates and putting them in the sink, "you two can p-"

"We'll start today!" Jieun enthusiastically said, grabbing you and dragging you away.

"Wha-?!" you choked on your own saliva, startled at her unexpected movement. Annoyance bubbling up when you saw Seonghwa waving a hand at you, mouthing a "Goodluck."

It was safe to say that it was pure torture.

Sweeping and dusting and removing the cobwebs (chasing the insects out made you want to cry). You and Jieun were cleaning all day and you were hell bent on not cleaning the bathroom, thus, you let her do it herself.

"We can do the laundry here!" Kai called out fron the veranda, and the two of you went out.

You were astonished, the scenery was nothing like you had ever seen before.

The castle was flying up in the sky, the sun is so bright that it gives you a clear view of the field of flowers. The ocean is shining under the light and the birds are gliding near the fortress.

When the castle landed near the body of water, you all went and washed the clothes and other pieces of fabric that Jieun deemed unusable until clean.

It was tiring at first, but it was actually fun. Hanging the clothes out in the field with the help of your friends (and Mr. Scarecrow who was actually following you all along)

You sit down on the grass after all the chores are done, resting for a little bit and enjoying the fresh air.

"You look like you're about to pass out." you whipped your head to see Seonghwa sitting beside you.

"Since when did you get here?" you asked, not hearing any of his footsteps.

"Magic." he whispered, making you scoff and him laughing at your annoyed face.

"Here, hydrate yourself." he brought out a bottle of water, holding it in front of you which you happily accepted and drank.

"That's some good stuff." you muttered, glancing at his direction, "Thank you Seonghwa."

He felt his breath hitch, the afternoon light making you glow and he thinks that you're pretty. Like, really pretty.

He had his fair share of girls. He's handsome, of course ladies will line up for him and he's not the type to say no. It's just that he never saw any reason to settle down with them.

He doesn't feel a connection with them, but with you it's somehow different.

What could this be?

"Ah, feelings." a high pitched voice interrupted his thoughts and he immediately knew who it belongs to.

"Shut up, Alfredo."

"Oh my god." your jaw might drop on the floor, seeing the sword with a face, talking and walking like a living thing. "The sword spoke, and it's moving on its own."

The sword deadpanned at you, "Of course, I'm the same as Calcifer, duh."

Seonghwa groaned, trying to pick up his sword to no avail, "Alfredo. Don't do this with me right now."

The sword stuck his tongue out, further irritating his owner, "I ain't going anywhere."

"Wait." you frowned, pointing an accusing finger at Seonghwa, "If this thing can move-"

"Please call me by my name."

"Fine." you let out an exasperated sigh, "If Alfredo," you eyed the sword, which in turn made him nod in satisfaction, "can move, then why did you ask me for help that time."

"This," Seonghwa had finally lifted his partner, "brat right here threw a tantrum because I thrusted him right in the mouth of the trash can. He didn't want to move, so someone had to manhandle."

Alfredo muttered under his breath, something along the lines of 'It smells so bad in there, you heartless monster.'

You raised an eyebrow, "Then why were you in the trashcan?"

"I was caught off guard," Seonghwa shrugged, "that rotten dumpster kept on pestering me about food."

Somehow, you imagined Seonghwa and Alfredo's struggle, making you laugh loudly.

"Go on," he clutched his heart dramatically, "laugh at our misery." He prods at his partner, and the only thing that the sword could think of was to play dead.

"It was hilarious, but no." you shifted closer to him, close enough that you're able to whiff his musky scent. "I am kind of glad that I was able to meet you two because of that."

Seonghwa's chest tightened, an overwhelming feeling of endearment filling his veins at your confession.

Who gave you the right to be this adorable?

"Keep breathing." Alfredo mumbled, breaking Seonghwa's trance and he couldn't help but lightly kick his friend.

"Shut up."

"I don't see the point of doing this." Kai complained for the fourth time, not wanting to go out of his home.

"We need something to eat." Jieun clapped back, holding a basket and adjusting the roulette.

It still amazes you how magic works in this world. You knew of it based on the book, but experiencing it at hand is a whole another level. That circle thingy is an example of it.

You arranged the colors and its destination in your head:

Black = Wales

Blue = Seaside City of Porthaven

Green = Market Chipping

Red = The Royal City of Kingsbury

Right now, all of you are in the Market Chipping, and with one turn, the arrow pointing at the blue part, everyone is now transported in the Seaside City.

Jieun excitedly opened the door, inhaling the fresh scent of the ocean. "Let's go!"

You and Kai have no choice but to follow her around, watching her pick vegetables and fishes.

After a while, there was a ruckus near the harbor. Curious about it, the three of you went to see what it was.

Alas! There is a tattered boat sailing close, it contains several injured men and the others on land kept on cheering for them. Some people even went and drove their respective boats to help their countrymen.

"An aircraft!"

You looked up and saw a large plane, anxiety raising your heartbeat when it began bombing the boats.

"Let's go back!" Kai yelled to which you and Jieun immediately complied.

You all ran until you're under the safe covers of the castle, "That was close." Kai mumbled.

"The war is getting worse day by day." Jieun remarked, lowering her head in sadness.

You gathered all the courage you have in your body to speak, but as soon as you opened it, Jongsuk entered the door, clearly in a sour mood.

"Jongsuk." Jieun muttered his name to which he clearly ignored.

"Calcifer, prepare my bath."

A few moments later, a screaming Jongsuk runs in the living room clad only in a flimsy white towel, enough to cover his private parts.

"Did you mess around the shampoos?! The spell is all wrong! I told you not to get carried away!" he cried out, gripping his hair to prove a point. His former blonde locks are now in a shade of orange.

"Are we getting attacked or something?!" Seonghwa emerged from the stairs, woken up by the chaos downstairs.

"No." Jieun answered, concerned at Jongsuk's behavior, she cautiously walked closer and tried to console him.

"Look, it's now black. It suits you well."

"Pft," Seonghwa's snicker above caught your attention, and you're tempted to smack him after his next sentence, "Your hair sucks, Jongsuk."

"Ahh!" Jongsuk let out a frustrated yell, "What's the point of living if you're not beautiful?!" he slumped to a nearby chair, dejected at his new appearance.

That struck a nerve to Jieun. Her once worried expression morphed into anger, "That's all you could think about?!"

You did not expect this outburst from her.

"You're being unfair, especially because I never felt like I'm beautiful!" Jieun then walked out of the door, crying in the rain which started to pour.

You looked at the mess and cringed when a gooey liquid oozed out of Jongsuk's body, like he's melting.

"Uh-oh, let me get Jieun." Kai said, running outside to report what is happening.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, glaring at the man who's now sitting on the counter and happily eating an apple.

He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, opting to help Jieun who just came in to put Jongsuk back in his room.

You ignored Seonghwa the whole time. Normally, you would go to him at night to talk about life, but today you didn't. You were pissed at the stunt he pulled earlier.

"Why are you here alone?"

"Oh God, you scared me." you jumped from where you're standing, frowning when you saw Seonghwa behind you.

"I didn't like what you did. You could've hurt Jongsuk's feelings." you mumbled, diverting your attention back to the stars.

"No, I didn't," he whined, trudging to you, shoulders touching and you know you should be mad at him but you don't really mind the close proximity he created, "besides, his hair was back in its original state."

You giggled and agreed, "It looks good on him too." you absentmindedly commented, but no, Seonghwa did not like that one bit.

"Alfredo! Keep Y/N company for a while."

"Huh? Hey. Seonghwa! Where are you going?" you glanced at him and yelled, confused at his sudden behavior but he probably can't hear you anymore as he entered the castle in a hurry.

"Let him be." his partner flew and perched on your shoulder, and for a piece of metal, he's unbelievably light. "Just make sure to compliment him when he's back."

It has been thirty minutes and you were getting tired of waiting, Alfredo had already fallen asleep and you were seriously contemplating going inside.

"Y/N!"

Seonghwa came sprinting, shaking his head and you raised an eyebrow. Did he dye his hair?

"Look!" he shrieked excitedly, "Does it look good?" he asked with puppy eyes, his noise waking the sword on your shoulder.

"Man, can you keep it down?"

Seonghwa glared at his partner, flicking him off and paying no mind to its protests.

So this is what Alfredo meant.

You lifted your arm and gently touched his darkened locks, "It's gorgeous," you mumbled, "like the night sky." you gestured above.

Seonghwa is now content at your remark, clutching your hand in his and pulling you closer to him, "You like stargazing?"

Your noses are almost touching and you're positive that you can feel his breath on your lips, "Uh, I-I uh, yes?" you winced at your reply, not liking that you sounded so affected by him.

"I have an idea." right after he said that, he circled his arms around your waist and the two of you began to levitate.

"Take care!" Alfredo yawned and waved at you from below, going inside the castle to sleep.

As a normal human being, your instinct tells you to screech and hold on tight to any surface that you could put your hands on. Panic ensuing in your chest and you were so ready to cry when Seonghwa cupped your face, allowing you to gaze in his sincere orbs.

"Calm down and let the wind guide you."

Despite your wobbling knees, you did your best and straightened yourself, "Take slow steps, dance with me, princess." Seonghwa instructed, his hands sliding to intertwine with yours.

Soon you got used to walking in the air, giggling whenever Seonghwa twirls you around.

"See, you're a natural at this." he says, laughing along with you and he thinks that he's on top of the world.

Watching you with a large grin on your face, eyes closed, having the time of your life and letting your worries fly along the breeze.

"We're here." he uttered and you opened your eyes, gasping at the sight.

Are you in outer space? Maybe, but you still could breathe.

Balls of gas littered everywhere, designed to look like fairy lights and the moon itself where you both stand feels like a cloud. m

"This is much better right?" he says, not letting go of you even after you landed.

"Where are we?" you inquired, curious about the place he brought you.

"This is my childhood where I trained magic," Seonghwa explains, "and you missy," he bent down to whisper in your ear, "is my first visitor."

Your eyes widened at his confession and tried to pull away from him, wanting to turn around but he hugged you tightly, rooting you in your spot, "Seonghwa?"

"Let's stay like this." he mumbled, pulling you impossibly close to him to the point that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

This wasn't so bad.

"What a bummer." you say, watching Jieun tuck the Witch of the Waste, now turned into an old lady who can't use magic anymore, into bed.

"Don't be like that." Jieun nudged you after she was done, "Let's sleep too."

You almost sighed, to be honest you have been doing that for the past few days but you couldn't pinpoint the reason.

The setting has now changed, Jongsuk casting a spell which made the Hatter shop a part of the castle. He did it for their growing 'family' (with the addition of the witch and a dog named Joy, the errand dog Jongsuk's magic teacher) as he likes to call it.

It feels melancholic, knowing that the story is about to come to an end. The worst is about to come, and Jongsuk still hasn't returned.

"You look sad." Seonghwa mumbles when he sees you in the kitchen.

Ah, Seonghwa. You don't know where you stand with him, what your relationship with him is but something shifted between the two of you after that intimate night.

"It's nothing." you forced a smile, attempting to walk past him but failing to do so when he gripped your wrist.

"Tell me." he says with more conviction this time, tugging you to stay close with him.

"I told you it's nothing." you whined, wanting nothing more but to sleep but the man in front of you kept on bugging you.

"I'm just worried for you," his eyes soften, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears, "you don't know how much I want to keep you happy and safe."

Is this really happening right now?

You couldn't move, no magic involved, and you're seriously waiting for your lips to connect when he starts leaning closer to you.

"Oh no!" the witch wailed from the other room, making the both of you jump away from each other.

Soon, sounds of gunshots and bombs are heard. Screams of the civilians, rattling wheels of the carriages and soldiers yelling at the top of their lungs for everyone to evacuate filled the once peaceful area - the war is starting.

Jongsuk was scouted by Wales to assist in the fight, knowing that he is one of the strongest wizards out there. He was brave enough to decline, going as far as to involve Jieun, but Madame Suliman wasn't having any of it.

Now, outside of the house, those black spawns (courtesy of Madame Suliman) are doing whatever they can do to lay waste in order for Jongsuk to agree to the deal.

"You're here!"

All of you went into the living room, seeing Jongsuk, who is in his avian form, explaining things to Jieun.

"Stay inside, Calcifer will take care of you."

"You won't stay here?" Jieun cried, clutching onto him, "We can run away from all of this!"

"I can't," Jongsuk knelt and held Jieun's shoulders, "I already found someone to protect. So please, stay here."

Your heart broke at the sight but you can't do anything about it. You can't stop the fighting, knowing that they can resolve it by themselves. Though, it did nothing to soothe the raging emotions within you.

"I'll come with you." Seonghwa came out, a smile on Jongsuk's face as he accepted his friend's help.

"What?" you muttered, "Seonghwa?"

"I told you," the man's stature turned into one that is similar to Jongsuk's, "I want to keep you happy and safe."

Then they flew, closing the door shut and not letting any of the dark antagonists enter.

Your heart is beating rather erratically. Are you worried? About Seonghwa?

You were so deep into your own thoughts, not noticing Jieun stand up and walk towards you.

"They're both fighting to protect us, let's put an end to this."

She then sauntered to the door, using the roulette and in one click, you were all transported into the Folding Valley.

Upon exiting the castle, the rain is pouring hard in the mountains making it difficult to see but at this point in time, everything is clear.

The orange hue and gray smoke produced by the fire created an illusion of hell, havoc swallowed the city, everything destroyed with the blink of an eye.

"There! Jongsuk!" Jieun pointed at the figures who were gliding around the aircraft and planes, dodging attacks and striking at the same time.

Jieun went inside and scooped Calcifer up regardless of what he was saying as you and Kai helped the witch get outside.

You were all waiting for Jieun to come out with Calcifer, and when she did, the gigantic castle fell apart. Scraps of metal and every single item down to the ground.

"Fast, I might die out here in the rain!" Calcifer exclaimed, shielding himself from the water.

Jieun hurried inside of what's left of the castle, which is the kitchen part, "Can you move it?"

"I need a sacrifice." the demon said, "Jongsuk gave me his heart, so you need to give me something too."

Your eyes moved around and it landed on a pair of scissors, "Alright." you mumbled, picking it up and cutting your hair short on a whim.

"Y/N!" Kai bellowed in surprise, "Your hair!"

"Here. Take it." you held it outwards and glanced at Jieun, prompting her to do the same. Throwing your strands into the fire's mouth as an offering.

Calcifer grew big, easily fixing the ruined kitchen and moving it in the direction of Jongsuk and Seonghwa.

You were still basking in relief that you completely forgot about the witch. It wasn't your fault that you're finally in peace for a bit, thinking that Seonghwa won't be harmed anymore if you and Jieun actually succeeded.

The ride stopped moving when the old lady grabbed Calcifer, "Jongsuk's heart!"

You cursed under your breath, that witch is so obsessed with Jongsuk's heart that she'd literally tear everyone apart for it.

It was well known around town that the damned witch badly needed that heart to cure her rotting magic. Thus, she did everything to get it, going as far as to curse the people who were once involved with Jongsuk.

Too bad, Calcifer is still burning.

The witch yelped yet she held on to flame despite the blaze she's feeling on her skin.

"You'll get burned!" Jieun cried out, coaxing the old woman to drop Calcifer.

"No!" she stubbornly defied, "I got it first, it's mine!"

Jieun had no choice but to hurl a pail of water to the witch, and comes with it is the disintegration of the remains of the once large fortress.

The small space broke apart, the other side of it which contains Jieun and Joy The Dog fell into a cliff.

"Jieun!" you stretched your hand in an attempt to save her but Kai held you back, saying that it's dangerous if you extended too much. You barely heard Jieun say that she'll be fine and that you should take care of yourself up there.

You were lost for a few minutes, staring ahead and thinking what to do before you groaned out of frustration, "Oh no." you turned to the witch, ready to blame her for the catastrophe that had occurred.

"This is your f-!"

"Seonghwa!" Kai called out, his eyes staring from behind you. Heck, you didn't know that you can whip around so fast in your life. Not until today that it actually made you dizzy.

Worry graced over your features when you saw the state he's in. Tattered and tired with gashes all over his body. You opened your arms for him to land on, smoothly embracing him in the process when he returned to his human form.

"Seonghwa," you craddled his face, wiping down the dried blood on his busted lower lip, "you're badly injured, you need to be patched up."

"You cut your hair." he uttered, pressing his palm lightly on the top of your head.

Leave it to Seonghwa to notice the smallest things about you during a crucial time.

"Yeah, it was to o-"

Your explanation ended abruptly when he sat up and pecked your nose out of the blue, "You look gorgeous."

"Ehem." Kai's fake cough snapped the two of you out of your bubble, "I'm sorry to interrupt but.." he trailed off, waiting for any kind of update about Jongsuk's whereabouts.

"He's gone too far," he responds, "his wounds are far worse than mine. I don't know if he'll.." he can't continue his words, not having enough courage in his self to admit reality.

"He will survive." you spoke in a matter of fact tone, tilting your head to the side to give them a clue of what you're talking about, "Look."

Everyone's head craned and was gladly surprised to see Jieun and Jongsuk, with Joy, flying towards the piece of wood that miraculously pulled through after the incident a while ago.

They landed safely and Jieun began to beg the witch to give Calcifer back so that Jongsuk's heart could be returned, allowing him to stay alive.

In the end, the old lady gave in, allowing Jieun to press Calcifer in Jongsuk's chest. And like a show, they began to coalesce and the male's injuries started to heal by itself.

It could have been a happy ending for the couple, the only problem?

Some kind of firework started blowing up as the result of Calcifer's freedom from his pact with Jongsuk, and the impact made the plank slide down the cliff. No worries though! Mr. Scarecrow was there to save the day. He succesfully used all of his strength to halt the movement.

You knew what would happen afterwards, the plot engraved in your brain like it's your favorite song.

Jieun would kiss everyone on the cheek to show her gratitude, (that also turned Mr. Scarecrow into a human, and shocking because he's a really handsome prince.)

Her kiss woke Jongsuk up, energized than ever.

"I'll tell my nation to not engage in this war anymore." Mr. Scarecrow Prince says, giving you all the assurance that no more of this vile event will occur again.

All is well, until Kai spoke up, "Y/N? Your body!"

You were confused but one look at your transparent hands made you realize that you are about to go back to your own world. The story has come to an end, that means that your role here is done.

"I will miss you guys." you mumbled, accepting your end and putting on a smile for a show, "I really appreciate what I learned here."

"Y/N?" Jieun stepped closer to you, "What is happening?"

"Don't worry!" you persuaded them, "I'll be fine."

Tears pricked in the corner of your lids and you willed yourself not to cry, desperately blinking the tears away as you bowed your head.

You don't want to go, but you know that you can't stay here. You don't belong here.

"You," you pointed at Seonghwa, looking at him for the last time before you go, "this may be a little late but.. I love you."

Your body begins to glow, the light swallowing you like it's about to transport you into another dimension.

It's now or never.

Seonghwa grit his teeth, raced to you, pulled you in a passionate kiss and held you in his arms. His last promise to you made your efforts of not crying in vain as you let the tears fall freely on your cheeks.

"I love you too, Y/N. Let's meet again someday."

"Oh my god, sis!" Yunjin's voice, paired with her vigorous shaking, woke you up from your slumber. You grumbled about her antics in the morning, but her next words made you shoot up from your bed. "Did you sleepwalk last night? Cut your hair short?"

You blinked away the grogginess that you're feeling, making a beeline to the mirror in the bathroom.

Seeing your reflection in the mirror, you slowly gained the memories from the other world, then it dawned on you that what happened wasn't a mere dream.

Then what about Seonghwa?

You shook your head, no way he's real.

Your friend followed you to the bathroom, a concerned expression donning her face when she discerned how perplexed you were , "Will you go to class today?"

"No," you answered truthfully, not really having the energy to attend school, "I have something to do."

Yunjin gave you a hug before she went to university and you spent the rest of your day at the coffee shop that you frequent too.

You must really look wild today, even the barista made your order on house.

You brought the book 'Jongsuk's castle', basically re-read everything but the name 'Seonghwa' did not appear. It's weird, considering that the male lead dubbed him as a 'good friend.'

So why is he not mentioned even once throughout the story?

You rubbed your temples, a headache brewing and you decided that maybe.. it's time to let go.

You closed the book and tucked in your bag, leaving the shop with a heavy heart.

You must have a habit of swimming and drowning in your own thoughts that you failed to notice the figure in front of you, ultimately making you bump into it.

"Oh gosh, sorry I wasn't a-" you began to apologize but a cat seemed to bite your tongue, rendering you speechless when the familiar dark hair and deer eyes that you oh, so loved obscured your vision.

The man smiled at you, telling you that it was okay and offered you a hand. You can only stare at him, gaping like a fish.

"Seonghwa." you mumbled under your breath and the guy reacted to it, a bewildered look flashing his handsome face.

"Yeah, that's me." he smiles, "Do i know you or.." he awkwardly moved his hand, making you realize that you're still sitting on the concrete.

"Yeah, I.. actually, okay. Yeah, thanks." you stuttered and made a fool of yourself, accepting his help and avoiding eye contact.

It's safe to say that you're embarrassed, but this was also a bolt out of the blue.

How come he's here? In the real world?

You closed your eyes, what should you do now?

"Are you going somewhere? Miss?" he spoke up again, looking at you expectantly.

"Y/N, and no, I was about to go home."

"Perfect then, Y/N." he glanced at his watch, making a decision that will probably change both of your destinies, "Would you like to join me for an early dinner?"

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest, happiness blooming in your soul.

"I would love that."

Maybe fate did not want you to help Jieun and Jongsuk, maybe it has other plans for you.

The love that you had been dreaming. The relationship that you had always wished for. Hoping for a man that would make you feel secure and warm.

If you think about it enough, think about it deeper.. maybe all the ruckus was for you to find the arrow that cupid has once shot. It may have missed the first time, but you are sure as hell that you're willing to give it a second chance.

Well, as long as it's with Seonghwa.

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basketballanonsblog · 11 months ago

Text

Save the first dance (for me)

Nayeon x reader

A/n: so I finished writing this wayyy earlier than I thought. I don't celebrate Christmas, so this is all I can offer as a gift 🎁 my first Nayeon x reader. I started thinking about a certain movie from the 90s, which is the main inspiration for this. Twice also made a reference to this in one of their mv. Like most of my ideas, I conjured it whilst in the shower 🤷🏽‍♀️

There is mild angst, but not that much.

Synopsis: What else can you do but run to the woman who has been waiting so patiently for you?

-◇-

You scrambled around your room, making sure you had everything.

The flight was in an hour, and everything seemed to be going wrong.

From sleeping through the alarm to spending a good half an hour looking for the passport you could've sworn you put on the bedside table the night before.

Nevertheless, you made it. You were finally on your way back to Korea.

"Excuse me." Your poor seat mate nearly dropped their phone in shock. "Sorry didn't mean to startle you, can I just get past?"

She just stared wide eyed at you. It was unnerving.

"I'll take that as a no."

You didn't ask again, but waited until they fell asleep. Carefully, you climbed over her, but you didn't factor in the possibility of your foot getting stuck.

Which, of course, it did.

Surprisingly, no one was awoken by the commotion of you falling over.

Now, that would've been embarrassing.

What you hadn't realised was that the girl saw and had to hold in her laughter.

-◇-

You stood in front of her apartment building. You knew the code since you lived together, but you physically couldn't bring yourself to go in.

Later, you thought. She may not even be home.

You were wandering around when you saw her again. The woman from the plane.

"We meet again..." She looked around to see if there were other people there.

"Eun Jung."

"Y/n."

"Did you find your sweetheart?" You were surprised, you did mention your significant other but you thought Eun Jung wasn't listening since she didn't respond to any attempt of conversation.

"Not yet."

"I know a lot of people, maybe I know her."

"Considering she's Im Nayeon, I think a lot of people know her."

"You dated Im Nayeon?!"

"Yes."

Eun Jung was starting to piece together what happened and wanted to help.

Even if it was out of pity.

"Come on, I know where she is."

-◇-

Turns out, Twice has a performance outside today.

The two of you stayed far behind the crowd and seeing her again made you feel many things.

She was smiling, but she wasn't entirely happy. You noticed the ring on her left hand.

A year later, she still wore it.

It was time to face the truth.

"She- " you glanced at your hands, hands you didn't want to admit were translucent. "She can't see me can she?"

"No. No one can."

"Except you." She hummed in confirmation.

"Don't ask why because I don't know."

"I guess that explains why you don't respond when others are around."

You continued watching the group when an idea occurred.

"Let me borrow your body." The poor woman almost choked on her water.

Okay, maybe you shouldn't have been so abrupt.

"Eh?!"

"She might be able to see me if I'm in a person's body."

"I don't think it's a good idea. What if you get stuck? A lot of things can go wrong."

She was right, but it didn't help in making you feel any less dejected.

Eun Jung began to feel guilty for shooting your idea down, when she turned to apologise, you were gone.

-◇-

It didn't take long to find you again since you ended up near the Han River.

You two took in the view of the sunset.

"She's - was my fiancée. We were supposed to marry last summer, but a month before the wedding I had to go overseas for work. I tried hard to get out of it but couldn't. Thankfully, I managed to wrap things up a week early. I booked an earlier flight to surprise her, but obviously, I never made it back home."

"You're here now though, I think that means something. We need to see Nayeon."

"It's pointless if she can't see or hear me."

"Shush. I won't accept any negativity. Now hurry up."

I'll get you two closure, even if it's the last thing I do.

-◇-

Ghosts are useful in getting into places you shouldn't be. I'll remember that. Eun Jung thought to herself as the both of you stood in front of Nayeon's apartment.

You were definitely trespassing but that was the least of your worries.

Nayeon answered the door, and all you wanted was to hold her.

"Hello ma'am. You're probably wondering who and why I'm bothering you at this hour. I knew y/n, I'd like to offer my condolences.

Her plan worked when Nayeon beckoned her inside.

The other members were there too, and she had to resist asking for an autograph. It was amusing to see your new friend starstruck.

At first, Nayeon was eager to talk about you, but something was off. There were too many inconsistencies. It made her suspicious about the stranger in her home.

As politely as she could, she tried to usher Eun Jung out, making her resort to plan b.

"Y/n is here! She's been here the whole time."

"Is that supposed to be funny, mocking her?"

"Please, you have to believe me. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn't trying to help y/n."

The other members stepped in, getting ready to call the police. Eun Jung was getting desperate. She tried to wrack her brain for a solution, but there was only one she could think of.

"Ugh, fine! You can do it." But she wasn't talking to them.

"What?" You asked.

"Your brilliant idea from earlier."

"Really?"

"Yes! Now hurry before I change my mind. They're starting to think I'm crazy because in their eyes, I'm talking to myself."

"Thank you. I owe you one."

"Yeah, you do."

Your spirit jumped into her, causing a glow. It almost felt weird to be back in a human body.

Nayeon felt her legs give out. Fortunately, the members supported her. They looked at you in disbelief.

"Nayeon."

"Y/n."

Cautiously, she approached you and with the gentleness she has missed terribly, you cupped her cheek.

The world faded away when you kissed. She kissed you softly, but the passion wasn't absent. You kissed through each other's tears, and you kissed over and over until your lungs were begging for air.

She hugged you tightly when you broke apart.

"I missed you so much."

"And I you, my love. I couldn't leave yet when I owe you a dance."

"Hold that thought."

She ran to the bedroom, re-emerging a few minutes later in her wedding dress.

"You never got to see me wearing this until now." You broke down at that. You were robbed of the chance to see her walk down the aisle.

Not a dry eye anywhere, as the members too teared up.

Music filled the apartment as you danced. It was the song that would've played for your first dance as wives.

In the blink of an eye, it was over. However, neither of you let go.

That is until you started shining. You've found closure, and now it was time for your soul to be fully put to rest.

"My love -"

"No. Don't go, please stay. I can't lose you a second time."

"I can't stay like this forever. That would be unfair to Eun Jung." You separated from your friend, leaving her slightly disorientated. Being a host body for a ghost was exhausting. She felt everything you did.

Your spirit emitted so much light. Everyone could see you now.

"It's okay, Nayeon. You don't have to feel guilty about moving on. Promise me you won't be afraid to find happiness."

"I promise." You couldn't wipe away her tears this time. "I love you."

"I love you too."

With one more look and smile at everyone, you faded away for the last time.

Nayeon drew strength from the ones who held and stood by her through this.

She would not break her final promise to you.

#twice fanfic #twice nayeon #nayeon #nayeon x reader #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic

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uglypastels · 4 years ago

Text

Slide In // Frat!Tom

(a/n) I’ve never written this au before, in like a full fic i think, so i have no idea if this is good, but i had this idea in the middle of the night and yeah. I hope you guys enjoy. this may or may not have been inspired by a certain post @duskholland made about Tom and his mirror selfies <3 how amazing that he literally just posted one today lol

word count: 16.7k

warning: drinking, mention of drug use (weed), school, social anxiety, some smexy innuendos. i made some big last minute changes, so i hope its all coherent.

DEEPFAVE: Liking a photo (or any post) from over a year ago.

It was a cloudy morning, and it was early. Really really early. Not even the birds felt up to it, it felt like. The campus was slowly awakening or going to sleep (depending on if you had been to last night’s Delta Kappa party, of course).

It was cold, and the leaves fell off the branches with each huff of the morning breeze. The grass was wet from the previous night’s rain, and it soaked your ankles as you ran through the small grass field, in hopes to cut a bit off the distance to your lecture hall.

It had not been your fault that you overslept. You had gone to bed early; your backpack was already packed for the next morning. It was supposed to be a relaxing morning, perfect for easing back into it after a week of sleeping in and celebrating the holidays. How could you have expected that your roommate would barge into your dorm at 2 am, still whoo-ing her drunk ass in the corridor with other wasted idiots?

And it wasn’t like you were against all that partying and drinking. You would have gone yourself to the frat party, but it just didn’t sit right with you. A giant house full of intoxicated strangers- the anxiety running through you just thinking about it was making you shake.

So, instead of “living a little”, as your older brother called it, you preferred to stay in bed most evenings, either watching Netflix or reading a book. Yet, still, you had been kept awake for so long last night that you slept through your alarm. What was supposed to be a calm morning turned out to be ten minutes of rushed panic. Eventually, you had decided to skip most of your morning routine, including breakfast, brushing your hair or even putting on a decent outfit. You ran out of your dorm, clutching on to your bag, phone and keys.

Your hair was reasonably alright. It was still in the braid you had made before going to bed, but a lot of hair had fallen out during your slumber. When you looked in the mirror though, you saw that it looked decent so you let it be. Not so much could have been said for your outfit. You kept on the same shirt in which you slept in, which was a slightly oversized grey graphic tee from a random indie concert you had been to ages ago. Unfortunately, it was so cold that you couldn’t just go outside in your shorts, so had to spend a precious minute slipping into a pair of sweatpants that were actually not as bum-looking as you had feared.

Luckily, the walk (or in this situation, run) to the lecture hall was short. So, you survived with only a thick sweater over your arms.

And so, just like that, you were running through campus. The cold air was piercing your lungs as you inhaled deeply. Each breath started with this whistling sound, as you tried to ignore that pain, and ended in an exhale of a cloud of condensation. Maybe you weren’t in the best shape, but even this horrible experience would not make you sign up for the campus gym. No way.

You could see the lecture hall doors, the wide wooden panelling already towering over you, and you slowed down. You were trying to catch your breath and composure. As always, the doors were heavy and to add to it, the wood could not handle the temperature, so it was even harder to open them.

“Oh, let me,” you suddenly heard behind you, almost making you jump. The voice sounded familiar, but it wouldn’t click to a particular face just yet.

“Thanks,” you breathed out as an arm extended from behind you, clad in a leather jacket, and pushed the door open with ease. You followed the arm up with your eyes and saw how it connected to an actual person. Yes, you definitely recognised him. But what was his name again?

T- something starting with a T.

He smiled at you politely, nodding the gesture for you to go inside.

“Thanks,” you said again, before finally moving.

“No problem,” he was walking behind you but quickly caught up to your side. You saw in his hand a Starbucks coffee, which almost made your mouth water.

“Professor Dowling’s lecture, right?” he asked, before taking a sip. Your eyes unconsciously followed the movement as the need for caffeine was growing.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” you shook your head, focusing on anything but the delicious rich smell that you could sense coming from the cup—dark roast.

“Well, good to know I won’t be the only one late,” he chuckled. Troy? Was that his name? No. He didn’t look like a Troy.

“We’re not that late,” you checked your phone and cursed internally, “only… nine minutes.”

“Dowling doesn’t care if it’s nine minutes or nine hours. Late is late.” He took another sip. You had to look away before your stomach realised how empty it really was.

“True, I guess. Well, it was nice knowing you.” You sighed as you had reached the second door leading to the lecture room. Ty raised an eyebrow. No, his name was definitely not Ty. What was it?!

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Dowling is gonna kill us, isn’t he?” You explained, and he nodded in agreement.

He was again the one to slowly and quietly opened the door, giving you insight into the room. You almost yelled out in excitement when you saw that the lights had been somewhat dimmed for a slideshow that the professor was giving. You have Tim (nope, not Tim) a knowing look and smile. You had been saved. Then, the two of you slipped into the room, letting the doors close themself. You saw a few people turn their heads as you walked by together, searching for a seat, but you didn’t think much of it. You would have looked too if someone dared to be late for one of Dowling’s lectures.

Finally, you found an empty seat. Two, actually. It was in the back of the class, so you hoped that once the lights would go back on, Dowling wouldn’t immediately notice the addition of two more faces. The mystery guy, as you were too tired to think of more names and decided to give up, sat down next to you. He pulled out his laptop and turned it on, quickly putting it on the lowest setting of brightness. Just before he had opened it up, you noticed a few stickers. Between a few references from tv shows and movies, you saw the logo of Delta Kappa. You only recognised it because you had been seeing the logo on almost every notice board the last few days together with the campus-wide invitation for last night’s party.

So he was a frat boy.

You looked up to the side at him as you pulled out your laptop and notebook. The notebook was more for doodling than anything. But also to write down some more of the essential or just entertaining parts of the lecture, since you had come to realise that writing things down by hand helped you remember better.

Your heart stopped beating for a second as you opened your laptop, praying that no embarrassing tabs were open or, even worse, you still had Spotify playing on full blast. But you could let yourself relax when the laptop just showed you your desktop.

Right then, you could hear your stomach growl of hunger.

“Here,” suddenly T, as you decided to call him for the time being, slid over his coffee to your small desk. You looked up at him in confusion. He had a cap on, so there was not much you could see in the dark shadow, but you saw his sincere smile.

You thanked him before grabbing the cup. Since it was Starbucks, you hoped to learn his name finally. But instead, in black marker, was written “Holland”. Last name. Well, that was something.

_________________________________

“Thank you,” y/n said before grabbing the drink, taking a look at the name written on it, and taking a big sip of it, although she quickly pulled it away from her lips, her face distorted in a sour expression.

“Sorry,” Tom apologised, “my hand had slipped when I was pouring in the sugar.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” she whispered, still a bit disgusted, but it didn’t stop her from taking another large sip. “How can you drink this stuff?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Tom grinned.

Times weren’t exactly desperate, in his case.

The party had been a massive success. Everyone seemed to have had a great time, and this time, not even at the cost of any of the frat house furniture. Sure, some people might have thrown up in the cooking pans, but that could be easily cleaned up by one of the pledges.

It all ended around 2 am, which was fairly early, but it was, of course, a school night. Tom remembered to drink water before going to sleep and woke up with only a mild headache. A few painkillers solved that pretty quickly. He got up, stumbled a bit over the mess around the house and was on his way to class.

He was sure he would have made it on time if it wasn’t for his usual appetite and need for coffee. Yes, he could have made it at home, but for some reason, the coffee from that machine always tasted like piss. And Tom did not want to find out why. So, it had almost become routine for him to stop by the Starbucks that was on the way from the house to the lecture halls.

What he had not expected was the giant line of customers inside. More people had felt the need for coffee after a wild night of partying. He recognised some girls, still wearing the same dresses they wore to the party. A few guys who looked like they were on the verge of death were sipping their drinks in the corner of the room. The two baristas were running around behind the counter, trying to make the drinks as fast as possible. As fellow students, they knew that there were a lot of people rushing to get to class, at least.

Tom had even looked at his phone, checking the time before he decided to step into the queue. He had majorly misjudged the time it would take the baristas to make the few drinks before it was his turn to order. In the meantime, people would walk up to him, also recognising him from the party, to tell Tom what a great time they had last night.

Finally, he got his drink and made his way over to the second station and poured in some sugar. For that extra kick of energy, but also, secretly, because he could not stand the bitterness of coffee. Then, it was really time to leave the crowd. Tom never really minded people and was definitely what you call a “social butterfly”, but there was always a limit. And the limit on a Monday morning was minimal. Even smaller, if you are still trying to get rid of a hangover.

He had just reached the main square of campus when he saw the big clock. He was already late, so it wouldn’t do much to run. Professor Dowling did not care for excuses or how late you were, even if it was a second. So he could as well just take his time.

Others had different ideas apparently.

Tom watched as someone ran across the grass, clutching on to their backpack. She stopped at the same door that he was heading for, so he got to have a good look first. The first thing he saw was the back of her head. Hair made up in a braid that was falling apart. A large black sweater, probably her boyfriend’s, was covering most of her frame.

She was trying to pull open the door that had the word PUSH on them, but Tom didn’t say anything. It was early, and by the looks of her, not that he was judging, she didn’t have a great morning.

When they had made eye contact, he recognised her from the lectures but did not think he had ever heard her name being mentioned. Professor Dowling loved interacting with the class, no matter how large, and often called out people to answer his absurd questions. She had never put her hand up to answer. Tom was sure of it; he would have remembered her name.

It interested him to see her pull out, not only a laptop but also a notebook. Did people even use those anymore? Even the dim light he could see the words scribbled on the cover. The decorative style did kind of make it hard to miss it.

Property of y/f/n.

So that was her name. Tom couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Having already missed the first ten minutes, he tried his best to focus on the words of the professor, but some things just couldn’t go unnoticed.

By the look y/n was giving his coffee cup, he could tell that she had not had any herself and the sound of her empty stomach as they sat next to each other only confirmed his suspicion. So, it only felt like the right thing to do to give her some. And the smile he got in return definitely made it worth it.

His attention was entirely gone by that point, as he watched her open her notebook. It was filled with little drawings. Some were more distinct than others. There were the classic five-petal flowers and the single mysterious eye with no other entity attached to it—also a few little scratchy tornadoes and random filigree. Patches of just lines and different patterns filled up the corners and extended out to the middle of the pages. Tom also definitely recognised a few attempts at bringing back the Super S in there.

But what also filled up the page were little characters. She must have drawn them during the lectures around Halloween because he recognised a little witch, stylised to the perfect amount of cuteness. There was also a cauldron of bats flying off to the side.

Tom could have looked at it for much longer and still find some more doodles in there, but unfortunately, she flipped the page. This one was blank. She took out a pen and started to doodle mindlessly.

First, a straight line, to which she attached little ovals. Lightly, but the lines got darker, the more she went over it. Then she made some more lighter lines across it. It made him chuckle when he recognised what it finally was—a piece of wheat. The way she stopped drawing for a second, Tom thought that she had not realised what she was drawing either. It was just a random coincidence where a few lines suddenly could make up an existing object. Then she continued.

From time to time she’d stop to make a note somewhere in the middle of the page, something that professor Dowling said that made her giggle. It was adorable to hear.

“Now, this,” Tom could hear the professor say from his little podium, the two little words shook everybody in the room awake because those they were code for IMPORTANT. As Dowling kept on talking, y/n closed her notebook and pulled her laptop closer to type. Tom had to pull himself together to focus on the actual lecture.

Then the sound of her stomach pulled him out of that. That was followed by the whisper of an angry “fuck”. Tom looked over to y/n again. She was trying to type something out, but her shaking fingers kept pressing the wrong buttons. She was crumbling apart from hunger.

Crumbling…

Suddenly, Tom remembered. He leaned down to look in his bag, hoping it was still there. It was.

“Hey,” he nudged her side, making her look up at him once more, with caution. He grabbed the small pack of Oreos and slid them over to her desk. She looked perplexed. Then she pushed the, slightly flat-looking, cookies back to Tom. He frowned.

“I thought I’m not supposed to be taking candy from strangers.” She whispered. Tom chuckled and pushed the pack of four cookies back to her.

“Well, good it’s not candy then. Eat. I can tell you’re starving.”

Y/n looked at the Oreos, not sure whether to take them or not, but her stomach answered for her. She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again and turned away. Tom understood it. It would have been the fourth time she would have said: “thank you”. By now, he got the message. As she opened the packet of cookies, Tom went back to listening to the lecture.

_________________________________

You hesitated before taking the cookies. Were they some kind of prank? You knew how frat guys loved to pull jokes on everyone, even if they were no better than middle school hijinks or cheesy April fools clichés. But the silver packet, except that it looked a bit flat, seemed to be untouched. Most likely because of getting squashed by something in his backpack.

You opened it and were immediately hit with the delicious whiff of chocolate. You took out one cookie and didn’t bother with the usual way of splitting it open to eat the filling first. You needed food. Now. Even if it were just four broken Oreo cookies. It was better than nothing.

Obviously, you were still hungry and in need of a proper breakfast, but the small snack helped you hold out for the rest of the lecture.

But now that your stomach was sorted for, you had another problem concentrating. Your new, still unnamed, friend tended to type very loudly. At first, you looked over in a bit of annoyance, which made you actually notice his hands. There was nothing special about them. They were naturally just hands, but the way he moved his fingers across the keyboard… it made you look back in that general direction a few times more.

Probably because of all these distractions, the usual hour and 45 minutes felt much shorter. Before you knew it, professor Dowling was saying his goodbyes and everyone around you started packing up their things.

Needing to get some food ASAP, you packed up your things and practically ran out of the room. Only as you were nearing the cafeteria did you realise that you had never said goodbye to your snack provider.

Shit.

_________________________________

“Hey, so I was thinking-” Tom was going to suggest grabbing a bite for breakfast together, being somewhat hungry himself, but when he looked up y/n had already packed her things and was on her way to the stairs, following the other students out the door.

Tom sank back down into his seat.

“Any problems, Mr Holland?” Tom’s head shot forward to see professor Dowling looking up at him. When he looked around, he saw he was the only one who had not started packing up.

“No, everything’s alright, sir,” Tom said before getting up with his laptop. “Great lecture. Learned a lot... and stuff.”

“Good, good,” Dowling said. His glasses were slipping off his nose slightly, so he pushed them back up with his middle finger. “I did not expect you to have heard anything, by the way you and miss y/n were chatting.”

The professor’s words made Tom’s cheek burn up as he pushed the laptop back into its place in his bag. That man saw everything.Suddenly he felt as if he was in middle school again.

“Try to not make it a habit.”

“No, sir,” Tom said.

Dowling just nodded, meaning the conversation had ended and giving Tom permission to sprint out of the room.

He wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry. Maybe he was hoping to find y/n waiting outside the doors. He didn’t even know why he wanted to see her there. He just did. He had this urge just to watch her doodle in that notebook of hers. There was something so endearing about it.

Alas, no one was waiting for him outside that door. Or even in the proximity of it. There was no one but groups of students making their way from and to class.

Then, Tom realised that she must have run off to the cafeteria. Still, he decided against going there. As much as he wanted to talk to y/n again, he didn’t want to come off stalkerish. Besides, they’d have another class tomorrow. He could speak to her then.

“Ayo! Holland!” Tom looked over to a group of people he recognised to be his friends. They were gathered around one of the large windows that was open in the hallway. He waved to them before making his way over.

“What’s up, man? You looked like a lost puppy.” Jacob said.

“No nothing, I just zoned out a little, I guess.” Tom shook his head, clearing it off thoughts of y/n.

“Well, we were thinking,” his best friend and fellow Delta Kappa resident, Harrison joined in on the conversation, “There is this new bar opening next week. The… something- shit, what’s it called again?” He looked over at the rest of the group.

“The Sterling,” it was Zendaya that answered. She was sitting on the window sill with both legs in front of her, not living much space for anyone else to sit. She had something between her fingers, and Tom could not make out if it were a regular cigarette or a joint. (The smell insinuated at nicotine, so that answered for itself.) The fact that they were on campus did not make much difference to them. She took a drag and blew the smoke out, before handing it to Harrison.

“So, Holland, you’re in?”

“Yeah of course.” There’s nothing like the hysteria of drinking yourself sick in some new dingy place across campus. A new one would open up every few months because its predecessor would get shut down after too many accounts of selling alcohol to minors. It had almost become a game for younger students to see how quickly they can destroy a business. Tom and Harrison had been record holders for a while. Five weeks. Tom wasn’t exactly sure how anyone could tell they were the reason for The Six-Ball to close, but it didn’t matter. (“With a name like that, they deserve to shut down,” Harrison had joked before ordering two Long Island Iced Teas.)

Now that they were of the legal drinking age, of course, maybe it wasn’t as fun to go to those shitty holes in the wall, but with the right people, they made it a party every time.

“Nice! So-” Jacob started talking about how he thought the night had to go, but Tom was already zoned out again. Between Zendaya and Harrison, he had the perfect view of the small grass field. Some people had sat down there with their friends to enjoy the midday, but most people still considered it too cold to sit outside. But what Tom was looking at was behind the grass field. It was the cafeteria doors. He saw that large sweater again. y/n walked out, holding something that looked like a sandwich. Tom smiled to himself.

“What are you smiling about?” He got nudged in the ribs by someone.

“Oh, you know, the uhm-” he had no idea what the rest of his friends had been talking about to include in his lie.

“I know,” Harrison said, lounging his arm across Tom’s shoulder to point in the same direction that Tom had been looking at. Tom froze up when he pointed straight at y/n with his finger.

“Angela Pikowski.”

“What?” It took Tom a second, but indeed, right in front of y/n, stood Angela with her own group of friends. She laughed at something, whipping her bottle bleached blonde hair across her shoulder. He understood too, how Harrison had caught her so quickly in his vision, for she had her jacket open and her shirt was pretty tight and low cut. How did that girl not catch pneumonia or some shit?

“You ain't slick, bro.” Harrison patted him on the back. Tom, not wanting to get into it more than he needed, just grinned awkwardly. When he looked out into the square, Angela still stood there, but y/n was gone.

_________________________________

The campus food was never that good, but it didn’t matter. The feelings of having actual food in your body felt so good that it might as well have been a five-course meal from a three-star Michelin restaurant. While, in reality, it was just a little bacon, egg and salad sub on stale bread.

It did not matter.

You enjoyed your breakfast as you walked down the path, back to your dorm. After that horrendous morning, and the pretty… interesting lecture, you were ready to lock yourself up in a room and do nothing but watch Netflix. And thankfully, due to having only one morning class, you could actually do it too.

You said your polite “Hi”s and “Hello”s as you passed some other people you recognised from other classes. A bit hopefully, you were on the lookout for your (still nameless!) friend from the lecture. You really had to figure out what his name was.

By the time you had reached your dorm building, your sandwich was gone. A part of you was still hungry, but you ignored that. You were probably just bored anyway.

The dorm hall was basic in every way, from the carpeted grey floor to the plainly painted walls. But the inhabitants, of course, did try to give it some life. They hung up posters and banners, flags and lights. You reached the door that was decorated with a collage of different 80s glam rock artists and walked into your room. That college had been a little bonding experience with your roommate, Marie, during the very first week of Freshman year.

When you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the lump on one of the beds. A groan erupted from underneath it when you switched on the light.

“Ruuuude,” Marie yelled out. She came out from beneath the sheets. Her hair was bigger than ever, and you could see the mascara and eyeshadow stains under her eyes, and there was still some glitter on her.

“You know, you should take off your make-up before going to sleep,” You said as you took off your sweater.

“You know, you should put some on before leaving the house,” she said before diving back underneath her sheets.

“Ouch,” you both laughed. But you couldn’t help but take a look in the mirror as you passed it. Maybe you could have used some concealer under your eyes, but it wasn’t that bad. Right?

The room the two of you lived in maybe wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either. You were definitely one of the luckier people in the building. Your room, after all, had just enough space for the two beds, desks and closets to mirror each other on each side of the room. You also went the extra way to put up some extra shelving on your side above the bed, since one closet was not enough.

“Didn’t you have class this morning as well?” you asked as you sat down on. You could hear something coming from Marie that resembled an “Mhm”. Not in the talking mood, got it.

So, in quiet, you pulled out your laptop and searched for something that did not look mind-numbingly dumb to watch, eventually settling for a show you had probably watched five times out of pure overwhelming of choice. After a while of moving around in your bed, you found a comfortable position at last and turned the show on, ready for a day of uninterrupted laziness.

_________________________________

Tom got home a bit later than he had hoped. After making plans for the next night, his friends were determined to go out for lunch as well. What he thought would be just a quick grab-and-go, turned out to be a full two-hour lunch where they talked about anything and nothing.

He loved the company of people, but not on Mondays. Mondays were his day to do nothing except for going to class, and Tom felt like he had already done too much.

When he did get back, people were still busy cleaning the aftermath of the party. It had gone a bit wilder than Tom remembered. Some jackass had decided to spray paint one of the upstairs hallways, and the colour was not easy to get off. Luckily, it had become almost a custom for all the house members to lock their doors during a party. For privacy sake firstly, but like anything at Delta Kappa, it turned a bit into a game.

The first two unlock their door, either if the person was too tired to stay at the party or wanted to bring a guest into their room, was obliged to do something horrible. It was up to the rest of the house to decide what. Fortunately for Tom, he had not been the first to unlock his door that night. That luck fell on poor Billy.

Even if it came to be so, the rule didn’t make sense because no one could check who the first one was to open their door and even if- it was not an official Delta Kappa rule. That meant that, even if the person got caught to be the first, they could simply deny the dare. They would be known as Head Chicken, of course, but there were worse things in life.

Tom moved up the stairs, saying hi to a few of his roommates, feeling very lucky as one of the senior members of the house, he did not have cleaning duty. Most of that was up to the pledges anyway.

He remembered when he had to do all those tasks and shit to get into the house. It was so stupid; he didn’t even understand why he chose to be in a fraternity, in the first place.

He did think the other guys had gone a bit softer on himself and Harrison since at the beginning of it all, they had been chosen by the sorority of Alpha Zeta Zeta as the favourites. Still, some unspeakable things had been done that year.

But now that he lived in a giant house with some of his best friends, it all felt like it was a bit worth it. He had a great time at Delta Kappa.

One of the best pros, by far, was that he had his own bedroom. Spacious for everything he needed plus a bit more. A large, unmade, bed waited for him when he opened the door. That, and the happy barks of Tessa.

“Hello, darling,” he bent down to pet her as she jumped to his knees. Tessa was the official mascot of the fraternity, but she had very early on found a great liking to Tom. It only took her a few days to get settled in his room, and from then on, she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else.

Tom moved up to his bed, and Tessa gladly joined him. She patted down a circle before lying down with her head on his chest, letting out a satisfied huff of air. Even if he wasn’t comfortable, Tom had no way out anymore. He was stuck. With nothing else to do, he took out his phone and went through his notifications.

Some texts from Harrison and Jacob, a missed call from that girl he made the mistake of giving her his number. People were getting Wi-fi again because he got at least twenty different Snapchat pictures and videos from the party.

What else there was plenty of, were Instagram mentions and tags. He went through the photos, smiling. It really had been a great party. Then, something popped up in his mind.

Property of: y/f/n

y/f/n

Could it be that easy? He could just search for her and hope to find her account. He typed it in. Her first name was already enough to get plenty of results. As always the profile pictures were too small to really make out a true identity, so he made his way through the accounts.

He only needed three tries, though. The picture already resembled her, so with hope, he clicked on the account.

This account is private. Follow this account to see their photos and videos.

Tom sighed. Not so easy after all. Then he saw the bio. It was a bit vague, just a few random emojis. But what interested him was the Followed by and the fifteen mutual followers that she had. It couldn’t be anyone else.

For some unknown reason, his heart was beating in his throat as he clicked on the blue Follow button and watched it turn grey. Now it was just a matter of waiting until his request got accepted. Or maybe denied. Who knows.

_________________________________

Watching a show for the fifth time got a bit boring. You could still laugh at the jokes, but at the same time, you could also almost flawlessly quote it as the scene went along. So, a few episodes in you took out your phone and started scrolling through various app feeds.

Marie had fallen back to sleep since you could hear her snore in her bed. And you were falling asleep slowly too. It was so warm in your room, and your bed was so soft and comfortable. Your eyes were getting heavier by the second.

Then a notification popped up, brightening up the screen in your hand. Half-awake, you tried to read it.

(your account): Tom Holland (@tomholland2013) has requested to follow you.

Tom? Your mind took a moment to process. Then the face finally clicked to the name. Tom! His name was Tom!

Without much further thought you accepted the request and before you even put your phone down, you fell asleep.

_________________________________

Not to sound desperate, Tom waited for a good half hour before rechecking his phone. He clicked on the Instagram app and the search icon. Her account was still the last one from the recent searches he made. Tom clicked on the account and, to his unexplained surprise, he was greeted with a gallery of pictures.

He had noticed earlier that the count on top of the page said 53 Posts. Interested, he clicked on the first one. It was a picture of a coffee cup. It wasn’t tagged, but Tom recognised it to be from that café Le Moulin. He saw the distinctive black windmill on the napkin that could not be missed.

He scrolled down.

It was a selfie from last summer. The filter slightly enhanced her bright smile on the picture, but Tom could tell it was more to show off the warm atmosphere of her holiday destination. The next photo was from the same holiday, he assumed, of her and a group of friends. He recognised the girls from campus. When he tapped the picture for the tags, he saw their names. @tiffani.btx @bonne_marie @lucywithnodiamonds

He thought to have spotted that Marie chick at the party. She was French if he remembered correctly. She was definitely a wild one. Might have even grinded up against him during one of the better songs that were played.

There were some more selfies, solo and with friends, sunsets and landscapes. The picture quality got worse as he scrolled down. It matched with the timeline. People should not be keeping up their pictures from seven years ago, especially not with all those fucked up filters they used back then. Tom was, of course, one of those people.

He scrolled to the last picture; it was of a dog—one of the cutest little labrador puppies.

Out of nowhere, Tessa barked in her sleep, making Tom jump up. This sudden movement, in its turn, woke the dog up completely. Tessa kept barking.

“Right, I think it’s time for a walk, what do you think?” He patted Tessa on the head as she tried to lick his arm. Tom got up and was about to leave his room when he realised he almost forgot his phone. The screen hadn’t turned off yet, so he looked at the puppy again. But something was off this time. Something had changed.

The little blank heart under the image- it was now pink.

He accidentally liked her oldest picture.

_________________________________

There were two types of naps. Those that made you feel amazing and refreshed by the time you got up. And those that made you feel like you had fallen asleep on a bed of rocks. You felt even worse than before when you woke up. Your head was throbbing, and your bra had pushed itself into every possible part of your chest, making it that much more uncomfortable.

“What time is it?” you asked Marie, but she was still asleep.

The light of your phone almost blinded you, so you quickly put down the brightness. It was around four o’clock. Meaning you had slept for a good three hours.

Besides the time, you checked your notifications. There were not a lot of them. A few spam emails, a few texts in a group chat you never responded too and… a like on Instagram?

tomholland2013 liked your photo. 1 h

You had to think back to the moment before your nap to remember that he had in fact requested to follow you. And you had accepted it.

You clicked on the notification, and it sent you to the liked picture. To your surprise, it was the picture of your family dog, Spot. Your family had picked the name even though he was a completely yellow labrador, loving the irony.

It was your first-ever picture, from over seven years ago. Had he been stalking your account? Why the fuck would he do that?

Well, you thought, it was only fair if I do it too. So, through the like, you made your way over to his account.

First thing you noticed was the number of followers he had. 15.7k How the fuck do people even get those numbers? Well, it’s easier if you’re a hot frat guy, of course.

His profile picture was a mirror selfie, and clearly, it was his favourite composition, for at least five out of the first nine pictures in the gallery were the same style. All full-body reflections, with him holding the phone in his right hand, leaning his head a bit to look at the screen as he took the picture. His lips weren’t exactly in a smirk, but there was that cockiness in there. He really was feeling it, that was obvious.

The first picture was a classic mirror pose- A black jacket and a black hat: the same outfit he had been wearing in class. You looked at the timestamp and saw that he only posted it an hour ago. Already it had dozens of comments and a low thousand amount of likes.

You scrolled down. A denim jacket and beanie in the mirror; a grey t-shirt and sweats in the mirror; a black suit in the mirror, the list could go on. There were other pictures, mostly from the frat house parties and other events where alcohol played a significant role. There were also the occasional front camera selfies.

You couldn’t help but look at those a little bit longer. There was something about that small tight smile that he made that was so cute. In one of the more saturated pictures, with a deeper shadow, you noticed that his nose actually had a little bump in it, most likely from breaking it in the past.

But just from likes alone, you could tell that the mirror was a public favourite.

There was something about the confidence that the pictures portrayed that spoke to you.. He knew he looked good, and no one could deny it. Except, he looked so much better than good.

It was interesting to be scrolling down his posts because it was like a trip back in time. At first, it didn’t wasn’t that obvious, just maybe a change in temperature during the year that was referenced through his clothing. Then it showed a bit more as his hair started to get shorter by each picture taken. It got shorter and shorter until his hair was not much more than a buzz. The reason for the drastic hair change was explained in the next picture.

You had already scrolled down four years worth of pictures, and this one was of him (taken by someone else). Tom was standing in a victory stance on a grass field, which you recognised to be the campus square. He was only wearing boxer shorts and on his chest was painted, in bright blue paint, 𝜟K. Underneath the post, read the caption: Delta Kappa babyyy! with a bunch of other hashtags. One that was included was #deltakappapledge #initiated. Of course, it was during his pledge period.

You kind of hoped that he had to do more than just shave off his hair because he didn’t even look half that bad. It even suited him actually. Hoping to find some more evidence of that embarrassing period, you scrolled on.

The sound that came out of your mouth as you scrolled to the next picture was inhumane. Keeping to tradition, it was a mirror selfie. Behind him seemed to be some workout equipment, possibly from the campus gym, but no one would look at that. Everyone would be too focused on what was in the foreground.

It was Tom standing in front of a mirror, chest glistening with sweat as his hair draped in front of his eyes. Instead of the usual pose, he stood sideways, showing off not only his flexed bicep as he took the picture, but also the outline of all his other muscles.

Completely forgetting what you were doing, you double-tapped the post. How could you not? Only a second later, did your monkey brain realise what you had done. You had made that exact same mistake as Tom. Except while he had liked a picture of a cute dog, you had made your mark on a shirtless selfie.

As the pure humiliation flooded over you, you threw your phone to the other end of the bed with a squeak.

What’s done was done.

_________________________________

Tom came back from the walk with Tessa after an hour. They both enjoyed a long walk around the park neighbouring the campus, just to then pretend like they were too exhausted and lay in bed the rest of the day. Well, Tom pretended. Tessa seemed legitimately tired.

They went back to their position on the bed. Not sure what else to do, Tom got back to Instagram. There was no reaction to his accidental like yet. Not even a follow back from y/n. A bit rude but okay, maybe she hadn’t seen it yet?

He shook his head. He didn’t like this weird side of him. Where had it even come from? Since when did he wait for anyone to respond to him? And they weren’t even having a conversation!

Having nothing else to do, he searched through his phone gallery for a good picture to post. He chose one he had taken during lunch, on his way from the bathroom. It was still crazy that his friends wanted to go to a place where you needed to take an elevator to go to the toilet.

He didn’t care for editing, so he went through the usual Instagram process of making a post, thought of some dumb caption and send it out into the internet. Soon enough, as if they had a notification on for his activities, the likes streamed in. For the first few minutes, he tried to look through them, again hoping that y/n would be one of the likes or the heart eyes emojis in the comments, but quickly it became too much, and Tom couldn’t keep up. He still enjoyed reading the comments.

Of course, it was all one big ego boost. The praise and compliments, even if it was for something as shallow as his looks, definitely gave him a good kick of dopamine and all those other happy chemicals during the day.

Tessa was snoring and drooling on his belly as Tom went through his timeline and explore page. There was not much exciting happening in peoples’ lives, but it made the time flow by faster. An hour had gone by probably when he decided to recheck his activities. His new picture already had a few thousand likes and was close to reaching a hundred comments. He went through some of them and either liked them or responded with a matching emoji.

But as he scrolled through the activity, he saw a like that was to a different picture. A rather old one too, just from the beginning of college. And who might have liked this picture? y/n

She liked a workout selfie, huh?

With the confidence that the like gave him, Tom clicked on her account and the message button. He thought about what to send for a moment but decided against overthinking it and went with a simple-

_________________________________

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Hi

You looked at the notification for a while. He definitely saw you had liked his old picture. Was he going to make fun of you? Tease you how you had outed yourself for thirsting over him?

But maybe he just wants to talk? You tried to sound optimistic to yourself. After all, he did like an old picture of yours too. You were kind of in the same boat.

Putting all worries aside, you clicked on that damn nerve-wracking notification, and without much more thought send out the reply.

(y/n)

Hey :)

Before you could even send out the smiley, the message rose to reveal “SEEN” beneath it. Was this happening? Was it? You could see he was typing.

(tomholland2013)

After stalking me you could have at least followed me back lol

(y/n)

Right sorry just a lot of mirror selfies. Thought i’d seen everything there is to see 😂

(tomholland2013)

Rude Seen anything you like though? ;)

Uhhh, of course, you have. You liked it. A lot. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction.

(y/n)

No not really

Quickly change the subject.

So what are you up to?

Good enough subject?

(tomholland2013)

Just lying in bed with Tess

Tess? Who was Tess? Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, he would have posted something on his Instagram, right? That’s what couples did? Unless it was just a one time fling. You couldn’t even call it a one-night stand since it wasn’t even night.

Wait, why did you even care about that? You had literally only said hello to each other and shared a coffee during class.

But the curiosity was gnawing at you.

(y/n)

Tess?

(tomholland2013)

Yeah, she’s falling asleep on my chest. Kinda tired her out lol

You looked at the text, unsure how to respond, or even if to do it. Was he telling you about his hookup? It didn’t sound like the nice guy you had met in front of the lecture hall, and that gave you his leftover coffee and Oreos. Your face wrenched into a grimace, not sure anymore what to make of this conversation or of what had happened during class.

He was typing again.

Wanna see?

Jesus Christ, this was a mistake. You didn’t respond, but he still sent you a picture anyway. It was a timer, unfortunately, meaning you had to click on it to see what he had sent. But he could see you got the message and that you were online. The longer you took, the more prominent you would make it that something was wrong, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had given you his coffee.

The curiosity got the better of you once again, though, and you clicked on the little bomb. What popped up was almost what you expected- but at the same time, so not. Before your brain properly processed what you were looking at, you were scared that he had sent you an unsolicited dick pic, but it was the furthest thing from that.

What you saw was a POV shot of his chest and legs. He was indeed lying on his bed. On his chest, however, was the head of a grey silver dog. “Tess” had her eyes closed peacefully as she slept on.

Of course, it was a dog.

You decided to be honest. For the benefit of the conversation, if anything.

(y/n)

Omg 💀

(tomholland2013)

We just came back from a long walk, so she’s pretty knackered What? Did you think I meant something else?

Embarrassment kicked in anyway.

(y/n)

No... lol

(tomholland2013)

You sooo did lmao Jealous much ;)

(y/n)

Of the dog maybe

(tomholland2013)

Cause she gets to be here with me?

(y/n)

No I meant it like She’s so cute I want one

(tomholland2013)

Relax I was just messing with you But if you ever wanna come over

(y/n)

Maybe another time

The response came out in a panic. Had he invited you for what you thought he did? No, there was no way he did. Besides, you couldn’t go to his house. You barely knew the guy- your mind kept on whirring about it. But the conversation continued.

Soon the sun had gone down, and it got dark outside, but the messages kept coming in. At one point Marie finally woke up from her hangover slumber. Drowsily she got up and headed for the shower with a towel and toiletries bag in her hand. Before she left, though. She asked you if you could prepare something to eat for dinner since she was starving. You being you, agreed.

(y/n)

Hey, I think I gotta go for a bit. Gotta make dinner for my roommate

(tomholland2013)

What’s on the menu?

(y/n)

Probably spicy ramen?

(tomholland2013)

Damn. sounds good But can’t she make it herself?

_________________________________

A part of Tom wanted to send another message. I want to keep talking to you. But that felt like a bit much. She was typing again anyway.

(y/n)

Because she’s still hungover from your party lol Thank for that btw

(tomholland2013)

You make it sound like i am personally responsible

(y/n)

Well your the only guy from DK i know so you’re** 💀fml. There go my chances of an english degree

(tomholland2013)

Nah babe YOU’RE good ;)

_________________________________

Your heart fluttered at the little word, for no reason. It was just a text message. He probably called every girl he texted that. Still, the sentiment was there. Also that winky face of his. Could he stop?

He started to type again.

(tomholland2013)

But if you ever wanna meet the other guys, you really are welcome to come over.

(y/n)

I’m good thanks.

Going to a frat house alone? You felt like that could easily be the start of your personal horror movie. It would absolutely crash at the box office, but that didn’t matter. And it was the second time he invited you to come over. If it was a hint, it wasn’t a subtle one. It didn’t stop you from doubting it.

(tomholland2013)

No need to be scared. They’re pretty chill dudes.

It was cute how he could read your mind because you were undoubtedly scared, but what he probably did not think was that you weren’t interested in meeting any other frat guy because there was only one on your mind at the moment.

(y/n)

Maybe another time ttyl?

You had sent the last message in the hopes that he had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You watched eagerly as the three dots danced around on the screen while he typed out his answer.

(tomholland2013)

Absolutely

_________________________________

Tom turned his phone off with a smile covering his face. He had just spent talking a good two hours to y/n, and he had to admit, he hadn’t had that pleasant of a conversation with anyone in a long time. It was just so easy to talk to her. It might be partly because it was only texts. But still, she was funny, sweet, and so pretty...

Unbeknown to himself, he was falling a little bit for y/n. Although, maybe he did feel it coming. The idea of getting another text from her made his face heat up. The idea of seeing her in class the next day almost made him… giddy. And it’s only been a day.

“Hey, man,” there came a knock on his door. “Better hide anything that would make it awkward between us cause I’m coming inside in 3-2-1-”

“‘S all good,” Tom said right as Harrison walked through the door.

“We’re gonna order pizza, what do you want?”

“Just the usual, I guess,’ Tom shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t really feel like eating pizza but to be the only one that wasn’t having any wasn’t a good strategy either.

“Alright, then.” As quickly as he walked in, Harrison was also leaving the room. But he peeked his head through the door once more before actually walking away.

“Hey, are you sure you’re good?” Harrison looked at him through narrow eyes.

“Yeah,” Tom answered as he prodded himself to sit up. “Why?”

“I don’t know… Nevermind.” And with that, Harrison left to share Tom’s order.

It was a rare occasion that all the house members would be at home on a night that wasn’t reserved for a party. That night, when it came to dinner, it was around 8 of them. Everyone was already sitting on the couches when Tom came downstairs to grab his pizza. He grabbed a chair and his box and sat down. A football game was playing on tv, and it made Tom roll his eyes. He still had no real idea of how football was supposed to work. He always preferred golf or basketball, or even baseball.

The guys cheered at a touchdown or whatever but all Tom could focus on was his phone. He kept checking if there were any notifications from y/n. So far, there was nothing. She was probably busy, he told himself, not wanting to feel too disappointed.

_________________________________

“So who were you texting back then?” Marie said as she slurped on her noodles. You were playing around with your own portion a bit, not really in the eating mindset.

“Huh? No one.” you shook your head.

“So it is someone. C’mon. Who is it?” She extended her leg to poke yours. She kept going until you finally gave in.

“Just this guy from Dowling’s class.” you finally took a bite of ramen.

“Aaand does this guy have a name?” Marie kept on asking.

You looked up from your cup of noodles. “Tom… Holland.”

Marie gasped, almost dropping her food onto her lap. “Tom Holland? As in Delta Kappa Tom Holland?’ you nodded your head yes. “No fucking way.”

“What?” Not the most nuanced reaction, but it would do.

“No way you have a crush on Tom fucking Holland.” You always noticed that when Marie cursed her French accent would show up again. Just the slightest bit. This time, however, what you stayed on was her statement.

“I do not!” you said as your cheeks were heating up.

“Ohhh, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said ‘nobody’. Everybody knows that ‘nobody’ is code for either crush, boyfriend, or drug dealer. And I think we can exclude the last option.” you were going to protest, but you would have only been fooling yourself.

“So, hypothetically, let’s say I do have a crush on him. Why did you scream out ‘No way’?” You bit your lip, a bit scared for an answer.

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Marie put down her ramen on her desk and came to sit down next to you on your bed. “I didn’t mean that you, like, don’t have a chance with him. Please, if anything, you’re too good for him.’ you both chuckled. “I just didn’t think he’d be your type.”

“What, hot?” You raised an eyebrow to which she slapped your shoulder.

“You’re being difficult. I mean, so… out there. You know, he’s basically the leader of that frat house, he always parties, always has stuff to go to. And you’re… well, pretty much the exact opposite. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Completely not. I just don’t want you to put yourself in any positions that you’re uncomfortable with to impress him or anything. Remember, you are too good for him.”

“Thanks.” you hugged her from the side. “But don’t you think that it would be good for me to go out once in a while? Out of my comfort zone?”

“Sure, if you’re actually doing it for you. Not some guy.”

“He is really nice, you know.” you smiled, remembering what had happened that morning. You went on telling Marie about it.

“Oh, so he’s got a crush on you too, huh? That works out perfectly. ” She finally said when you were done telling your story. You looked at her with wide eyes.

“What? Noooo,” you said, letting an awkward laugh escape through the no.

“Fine, whatever,” Marie moved back to her own bed and grabbed her cup of ramen. “But I bet you that if you check your phone now, you’ll have at least one message from him.”

You rolled your eyes again but grabbed your phone either way. And, fair enough, you had two notifications from ten minutes ago.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Heyy

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: I hope the ramens good

Holding in your smile, and ignoring the smart ass comments of Marie, you replied quickly.

(y/n)

It was :)

_________________________________

The speed at which Tom checked his phone when he felt the vibration in his pocket could have caused someone severe whiplash. He responded to the text and got up. Ultimately, he had hoped that he could slip out the room unnoticed, but he never got what he wanted, did he?

“Where are you going?” It was Dave that saw him get up. Tom stopped in his tracks like a little kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Just up to my room. Feelin’ a bit tired.’ He explained. This answer received several strange and confused looks, but Tom ignored those and just walked upstairs without saying another word. He plopped down onto his bed. Tessa was still downstairs under the table chewing on some pizza crusts, so he was finally alone.

The texting continued through the whole night, and Tom had wholly lost the sense of time. He didn’t even feel tired. If it wasn’t for y/n saying that she was about to fall asleep, he wouldn’t at least. Like that, the windshield crashed, and he felt the fatigue from the hours of messaging and staring at a screen overwhelm him. He just about managed to send out goodnight before his eyelids were too heavy to open up again.

_________________________________

The next morning you woke up feeling much better than either time the day before. Fresh and energised, with plenty of time to get ready before class started. Not that you really put much effort into how you looked for the morning lectures. It was more mental preparation. With enough time to eat breakfast, shower and brush your teeth, you felt excellent walking out the door. Dressed in a sweater that was warmer than two jackets and some loose jeans. With your bag over your shoulder.

You always thought the walk from your dorm to the lecture halls was delightful. The path leading toward it was enveloped in a tunnel of trees, and during the end of the year, when the leaves were turning into their auburn and golden shades, it almost felt warmer than in summer. Because the harsh wind still kept up with its schedule. It blew in your face as you walked, rubbing against your cheeks.

When you got there, the lecture hall was still relatively empty. Only a few other people had taken their seats. This was the crucial moment of choosing your seat. Against all your own instincts, you walked down to the bottom of the auditorium, into the fourth row. You had never sat that closer to professor Dowling’s podium, too scared you would be too easy to notice and called to answer a question. But something in you told you to be brave.

Besides, you had the idea that Tom wasn’t eager to sit there either.

As much as those butterflies in your stomach fluttered at his mention, you didn’t want to talk to him now, not during class. You needed to pass this class badly and to do that, you needed to focus. Something you could not do with him sitting next to you.

That’s what you told yourself. It was, of course, true, but the bigger problem was that you were scared. Tom sounded like a nice guy, a very good looking nice guy, but Marie’s words played in your head. He was from a completely different world. And it was a scary one. Why not keep a bit of a safe distance at first?

So, you kept your head buried in your notebook as people started to stream into the room. One by one, the seats around you were getting occupied—none of them by Tom, for better or for worse.

_________________________________

It had taken Tom a while to find y/n. He walked into the room, thinking he had come in with plenty of time to spare, but as he was making his way down the steps, the professor was already making his way to the podium. Tom tried to look around the room as quickly as he could, but he could not see her. Where was she?

Professor Dowling coughed loudly, indicating for everyone to shut up and sit down, so he could start the lecture. Tom took the first empty seat he saw. An aisle seat somewhere around the 8th row. The course started, but Tom’s eyes stayed on the seats, looking for that braid.

It wasn’t a brilliant plan, because he had no idea if she had actually kept that braid in for another day. And she had not, in fact. He noticed her, sitting somewhere at the bottom of the class, as she grabbed her hair and was pulling it up into a bun. She did it so quickly, so smoothly, without ever letting her attention get away from her. Focused on the class. He could really learn something from her.

And he tried to take a page from her book as he finally looked ahead of him to see Dowling write an entire essay on the blackboard. He cursed himself and quickly started to type everything over. His fingers went in fully automatic mode, and he had no more idea what the words he was typing actually meant.

His mind had wandered off once again. He couldn’t stop feeling that disappointing pull at his heartstrings. He had hoped they could have had a repeat of yesterday. She apparently thought differently. Or maybe she had hoped he would sit next to her, but he was just too slow?

The lecture went on forever, felt like. Tom’s fingers were cramping up from typing so much, and he could feel his back beginning to hurt in the uncomfortable chair. He kept stealing quick glances at y/n, hoping to catch her in doing the same, but she had not moved once.

He had to get a grip. They had known each other for one day, spoken maybe ten sentences to each other in person. The rest was all through text. And nothing was the same via messages. Maybe all his feelings were coming from the entirely wrong place? Perhaps she was just polite, and he had misinterpreted it for casual flirting? Besides, there was that sweater of hers yesterday- what if she had a boyfriend?

But a part of him still wanted to ignore all those signs and go for it. So, when the bell rang, and professor Dowling finally dismissed the class, Tom made sure he was one of the first ones outside. The large hall had two exits, so he stood against a wall, somewhere in the middle between both doors, hoping to catch y/n as she was walking out.

The loud rumbling of thunder caught his attention momentarily.

It was just a second, he swore to himself. But the second was enough to miss her. Somehow she had escaped him, nowhere to be found.

_________________________________

You had seen Tom waiting out in front of the room, and you felt horrible for walking the exact opposite direction. For the sake of your own feelings, you didn’t look back at any point on your way to your second lecture.

As Professor Phillips spoke, you felt your phone vibrate.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: where are you? :)

The little smiley made heat up in the cheeks, but you tried to ignore that as you typed out a response. You didn’t even click the notification to go to the app, just responded through the shortcut.

(y/n): had another class

Another notification popped up not long after.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: wanna meet up later?

(y/n): ngl I don’t feel well, will probably head back home right after

(y/n): but i’d love to chat

You shut off your phone, too scared to see the reply. Maybe it wasn’t the best move since you could not think about anything else for the remainder of the class. When you checked your phone again on your way back to the dorms your heart was lifted.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: of course. hope you feel better <3

_________________________________

Tom tried to think that she wasn’t avoiding him. After all, they texted almost every possible second that they had the time for the past week

They had talked about pretty much anything and everything. And it felt great. The way they spoke to each other, or at least Tom to her, was as if they had known each other for ages.

Tom only wished he could do that with her from across a table, or a on a bench. Where ever, he didn’t care. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes as they talked and see her smile. Hear that lol and not just imagine it.

Unfortunately, y/n was kind of giving him the cold shoulder in the real life. She ignored him during classes, and was gone before he could get the chance to talk to her. Whenever he asked if they could meet, she’d give him some reason she couldn’t. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had actually already met in real life, he had vary valid reasons to think he was being catfished.

Another reason could have been that she sounded too perfect.

It was the next Tuesday already, and Tom was waiting eagerly for the lecture to end. It had been a full week and he had decided, while copying some of Dowling’s notes, that he would talk to y/n today. After class.

Tomorrow would be the opening of the Sterling and he wanted to ask her if she wanted to come.Or at least to know if she wanted to hang out ever. If the truth came to be no, he would be fine with that. He respected that. He just needed to know. It wouldn’t take away from the fact how great it was to have someone to talk to, even if it was only through text bubbles.

The bell rang and Tom sprinted out. He kept his eyes on both doors as best as possible and finally saw her.

_________________________________

“Hey, y/n!” you heard your name being called from behind you. It was from Tom. He waved to you so would come over. Taking a deep breath, you decided to wave back, but your legs were frozen in place.

You felt absolutely terrible for ignoring him and denying his various invitations to hang out or to go anywhere, but it was just too terrifying. You were scared of fucking it up. Of it to turn out to be one big joke. You had heard of frat guys using dates and hookups as dares and shit. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t let that happen.

But when you saw Tom smile at you, those worries suddenly disappeared and your legs moved without connecting to your brain. Suddenly, you found your spot next to him.

He had been leaning against the wall with one foot, his arms crossed. You decided to lean against it with your shoulder. Even though you had your sweater, you could feel the grizzly texture of the bare red brick. He smiled and mirrored your movement, so you were only a few inches apart. ,

“Hey,” he said, still with the smile on his face.

“Hey,” you replied.

Tom uncrossed his arms to brush his fingers through his hair. As you watched him do so, you couldn’t help imagine how it would feel to play with his hair. It looked so soft.

“I just wanted to say,” he licked his lips. You were so close to each other that you could see how pink and chapped they were. Focus. “How much fun I had the past week. It’s bee really great talking to you.”

“I had fun too,” you said. It really was nice talking to Tom. Especially now, standing so close to him, you could smell the coffee he had consumed that morning. Was it pumpkin spice? You felt stupid for not letting it happen sooner.

“Great, that’s- that’s really great to hear. I said great already, didn’t I?” He laughed, shaking his head, “Anyway, I was thinking: a couple of friends of mine are going to the opening of this new bar, the Sterling, it’s probably going to be a bit boring, but I thought, maybe you’d like to come? With me?” He looked at you with those big brown eyes. Your mind started racing a million miles an hour at his words. The fuzzy warm feeling that you got from looking at his smile was dispersing and setting in for anxiety.

He wanted you to go to a bar with him and his friends? Would that be considered a date? For the sake of your dignity, you decided against asking for clarification. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t go to some dingy bar with strangers, even if one of them was Tom. You could already feel your body heating up in anxiety as all the horrible scenarios played out in your head.

You realised you had been quiet for a while and Tom was still looking at you hopefully.

“No,” you blurted out. “I mean, I can’t. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Totally. Maybe another time? Or if you don’t wanna go there, we could go somewhere else?”

“Uhh,” you couldn’t breath. All his suggestions were so sweet, but it felt too overwhelming to answer. Thankfully, the clock tower at the other end of campus rang and indicated the quarter of an hour. Your next class would soon start, and it was about a five-minute walk to get to.

“I have to go.” you pointed back and started walking, but Tom grabbed your hand gently, just enough by your fingertips.

“Sorry, I just- if you don’t want to hang out with me, that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend to like me, no hurt feelings. I don’t want you to-”

“I do, Tom,” you told him with a compassionate smile. Then you looked back at the clock. “But I really got to go.”

“Right, sorry.” he let go of your hand, and you ran off to your next course.

_________________________________

“Who was that?”

As soon as y/n ran off, Tom heard the voice coming from next to him. Zendaya popped up out of nowhere, an unlit cigarette hanging between her lips as she leaned in the same spot y/n had.

“Just a friend,” Tom shrugged. That’s what they were, after all. If even. He hoped he could describe someone he had mainly only spoken through texts with as a friend.

“You sure about that?” Zendaya smirked. “Cause by the looks of it, she’s got you pretty hooked. You were basically begging her to go out with you, bro.”

“Yeah, well, forcefulness isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, is it?” he sighed then almost turned pale at the words he had said. Zendaya didn’t say anything, just nodded and took out her glittery lighter.

“Could you not?” Tom pulled the cigarette out of her mouth before she could light it and put it in his pocket. “We’re inside, for fucks sake.”

“Fine, but tell me who this friend of yours is.” She nodded her head back into the direction that y/n ran in.

“I don’t really know. I mean I do, but- Basically we met last week before class. Then I found her on Instagram and DM’d her-”

“You slid into her DMs? Bro,” she laughed.

“Call it what you want, it was the only way of reaching her I had.”

“Fine, so you like her, yeah?”

“I guess.” Tom didn’t like sharing his feelings. It put him in this vulnerable position that he was not used to. Zendaya knew that, yet still she pushed him to do it almost every time they talked.

“For what it’s worth, I think she likes you too,” she said.

“How so?” he questioned hesitantly. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Zendaya had pulled that trick on him to date someone. And it had not ended well.

“Well, body language for one, she felt comfortable enough around you to stand close to you, facing you; she smiled at your rants which, props to her, is hard to do.”

“How long had you been watching us, exactly?” Tom asked a bit freaked out. Zendaya ignored the question.

“Believe me, she likes you. She’s just scared.” she pulled out another cigarette from her pocket, “also, taking a girl to a shithole like the Sterling for your first date? I’m glad she said no. Set some standards, man.” And with that lovely comment, she walked away. She didn’t have to see Tom flipping her off, she knew he would do it, and she replied lovingly in the same way.

That’s what you got for being friends with psychology majors.

_________________________________

The first thing you did after walking out of your second class was to check your phone if you had received any messages from Tom. There was nothing. So you decided to message him yourself.

(your account)

Hey Sorry I ran away like that And basically anytime after class and making those dumb excuses not to meet up Just so you know I do really wanna hang out with you I’m just not really great with crowds or with places like bars and stuff And ive also never really been asked to go anywhere with anyone, like personally Idk why im telling you this. I’m definitely rambling Texting is definitely easier than talking huh Sorry for all this

It took Tom two minutes to see your messages and to respond.

(tomholland2013)

It’s totally okay. I get it And sorry if i made you uncomfortable with all that. Can i come to your place tonight? Or how about we go to Le Moulin?

Le Moulin. You had been there before. You could do that. With trembling fingers of excitement, you replied

(your account)

Deal. Around 7?

(tomholland2013)

Sounds perfect. See u then

_________________________________

Tommo: Hey guys, sorry but im gonna have to skip on tonight

This short message was seen and very much not appreciated by his friends. None of the replies could be seen as appropriate for day-time television. Except for the one Zendaya had sent him through their personal chat. It was simple,

Z: 👍

With the entire afternoon off, Tom made sure he looked somewhat decent for the night. He took a shower. Washed his hair and made sure it was extra soft. He wasn’t sure what y/n thought of it, but from past experiences, he knew that usually, girls loved his hair. Thinking about other girls was probably not the best mindset, though. Still, his hair did look really good. He brushed his fingers through it.

It had not yet stopped raining, which was a bit of a problem, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind getting a bit wet. For the sake of it, he took an umbrella with him. Luckily it wasn’t very windy, so it actually came to good use. The walk from the frat house to the dorm that y/n said she lived in wasn’t too far away, and fortunately on the way to the place he had in mind to take her to.

On his way over, he thought about what Zendaya had told him.

Was y/n scared? Of what?

They had talked about that kind of stuff briefly, during the weekend, and she and said that she suffered from anxiety. Tom just thought it was stuff like giving a presentation in class. He hadn’t even thought about the more social aspect of it. And here he was pushing all those things at her like going to some bar with strangers. Jesus, why did he have to be such a dumbass?

The dorm complex had a buzzer system like a regular apartment complex, so he searched for her name on the long list, and pressed the button next to it.

“Hello?” It was her roommate, Marie, that answered.

“Hey, it’s Tom. I’m here to pick up y/n.” He could hear some indistinct giggling coming from the other side of the line.

“Of course, c’mon up. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit.” Next followed the buzzer, and the doors opened for him. The number on the button said 54, so he assumed it had to be on the fifth floor. When he walked up to the door with that number, he was greeted with a colourful collage of rock bands whose hair was probably more impressive than their vocal range, which said a lot considering Queen was on it.

He knocked and waited for someone to open. y/n was the one to do it. She stood frozen in the door, only a towel wrapped around her body.

“I thought we said seven?” she said, her voice a bit higher than usual.

“It’s quarter past seven!” Marie shouted out from inside the dorm. y/n cursed.

“Shit, sorry, I lost complete track of time. Give me ten minutes, okay?” she held up a finger so he would wait here. Tom nodded and let her close the door again. He could still hear her yell at Marie as to why she had not told her she was running late, to which Marie only responded with hysterical laughter.

“Holland?” someone in the hallway asked a few minutes later. Tom turned in the direction to see a guy with a head full of bed hair poke out of his doorway (which was covered in pictures of death metal posters and my little ponies). He stepped out in the hallway to reveal he was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny and tight briefs, leaving little to the imagination.

“Oh hey… Crocker,” he called the guy by his preferred nickname.

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Crocker asked. The way his eyes were almost ruby red and the stench coming from his room, Tom presumed that the guy was higher than a kite.

“Oh you know, waiting for a date, heh.” He said a bit awkwardly, pointing back to door 54.

“Ah, getting some of that French jay nehsuh gwaa.”

Tom looked confused. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard someone butcher a language that badly. Well, probably, but he didn’t remember it. He kind of understood what Crocker meant, though.

“No, I’m here for y/n. Not Marie.”

“Damn? Really.” Crocker started to giggle, which might as well just have been a side effect from whatever he had smoked up in his room.

“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure how else to react. Crocker just shrugged and walked back into his room, smashing the door closed. Tom turned slowly, not sure what exactly had happened just then. And he turned right on time too, because the door of dorm 54 opened and y/n walked out. Wearing a raincoat over a sweater and jeans. She also had a pair of black ankle boots on. Tom could not help but smile at the sight of her.

“Sorry about that,” she said, the nervousness in her voice was unmistakable.

“First,” Tom spoke, remembering one of his earlier worries from days ago, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” The question made her laugh.

“I very much do not. Why did you think that?”

“The sweater you wore when we met. It had that whole stole-it-from-my-boyfriend vibe.”

“No, I haven’t had anyone to steal clothes from in a long time.” she shook her head. Tom extended his hand for her to take, which she gladly did. It felt amazing.

“So what will you be ordering?”

“Ice cream,” Tom answered, almost matter-of-factly.

_________________________________

“Ice cream?” you asked to make sure you had heard him correctly. He nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think it’s a bit cold for that?”

“No.” He said bluntly, which really sold the case for you. You were on your way again.

You could hear the rain pound against the main door before you even reached the ground floor, and it only got harder and louder the nearer you got. Tom, being a true gentleman, opened the door for you, but you were a bit hesitant to walk outside.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he let you hold the door so he could step through the threshold and push open the umbrella. You noticed it was a Delta Kappa umbrella. They really made merch of everything. As he put the umbrella up, he extended his arm for you to intertwine yours through. Then, you walked.

Though it was relatively early, the sky was pitch black because of how early the sun set those days and the dark clouds that had been pestering the sky that entire day. Not a star was to be seen. The rain tapped heavily against the umbrella, and you tried to stay as close to Tom as possible. The excuse, of course, was to not get wet but really you wanted to enjoy the warmth that he was giving off. At one point you had changed position from just having your arm over his, to him wrapping his arm over your shoulder.

You walked down a brightly lit path, so you could see everything around you. The trees, the cars passing by, the building. So, when you saw the little café at the end of the street, you squealed.

While there were plenty of bars, pubs and clubs to go to around town, so there were restaurants and cafés. And while restaurants really weren’t your thing, you loved to sit in one of the cosy coffee shops with a cup of tea or coffee and read a good book. Another fun thing about all those places was that they were very internationally orientated, speaking to the wide variety of students that the university had. Le Moulin was of course based on a Parisian café. You had actually found it together with Marie, in hopes she could have something that felt a bit closer to home. Though it didn’t come close to the real magic of the French capital, it still had plenty of its charm in it. Not to mention, the pain du chocolats were to die for!

Yet, you had never actually had ice cream from their menu.

You still weren’t sure if today would be the day for it. By the time you wear under the little entrance roof, you were freezing, and so was Tom, visibly.

“Are you still sure about the ice cream?” you asked him as he closed the umbrella.

“Hot chocolate?” he suggested, suddenly fluent in your love language: chocolate and hot drinks (it was a very simplified version of said love language).

This time Tom got to be the real gentleman as he let you walk inside first. He dropped the umbrella in the stand, together with a few others. When you looked around the café, you saw that a few more couples were enjoying the cosiness. A sweet melody was playing from the speakers. The rain had also softened outside, and together with the vintage sounds of guitar and vocals, it gave the perfect atmosphere for the night.

You had barely stepped inside when one of the waiters walked up. He smiled and said: “Your table is ready,” which surprised you, but Tom took you by the hand, and you both followed the waiter to one of the tables next to the wall, where one side had a couch instead of the usual chairs. You sat down first, taking off your jacket. Tom was going to sit opposite you, but now it was your turn to grab his hand.

“Slide in.”

He smiled and sat down. He probably didn’t need any convincing and just wanted to hear you say that you wanted him to sit next to you. You didn’t mind that.

“Should I prepare the order?” the waiter asked as you made yourself comfortable, again confusing the hell out of you.

“Actually, scrap that. We’ll have two large hot chocolates.” Tom said.

“With cinnamon!” you added.

“One with cinnamon.” Tom corrected. The waiter nodded and walked off.

“Don’t like cinnamon?” you quizzed, to which Tom shrugged.

“It’s alright, just not a big fan.” Both of you looked around the room. You had never been in the café at night, so you hadn’t even realised that the walls were covered in soft gold lights, giving it all that much more the feeling as if you had stepped into a fairytale.

“I didn’t know this place took reservations.”

“I’m not sure either,” Tom replied, you noticed he had his arm draped around you again, “I just called to be sure.”

“Really?” That split you up into two. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he had made a special call to the café to get, probably, the best seat in the house. On the other side, you were freaking out for a few reasons. He had put in quite the effort in an almost last minute notice of plans, while you were fifteen minutes late. That was embarrassing enough. And this reservation basically put you in a spotlight for the entire business, which was really not ideal. You didn’t want to be noticed.

“Hey,” he whispered and squeezed his grip around you lightly, “everything okay?”

“Huh? Mhm,” you nodded your head and smiled, trying not to think about how the waiters might be judging you.

“I saw you had posted a picture from this place on your Instagram, and I used to come here a while back, so I thought it would be cool, but if you don’t like it-”

“It’s perfect,” you made up your mind. In the end, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You felt safe, sitting on the little couch, next to Tom.

Soon after, the waiter came back with two mugs of hot chocolate. When Tom ordered large ones, they delivered. The mugs might as well have been cereal bowls, topped with a peak of whipped cream and cocoa powder, and a cinnamon stick in your cup to distinguish the two drinks.

“Et voila!” the waiter put the cups down. You thanked him, and he was gone again.

There were spoons, but you decided to stir your chocolate with the cinnamon stick.

Still with his arm around you, Tom took his mug up to his lips. With the feeling of having him so close to you, you wondered what this really was. What if he just wanted to be friends and spend some time with you? Had he noticed how sad and lonely you were, and did he want to take his pity out on you? Were you a charity act for him? God, you hoped not. You really really hoped not.

“Tom?” You looked at him, to see his eyes dart in your direction. His top lip was covered in whipped cream. You gestured it to him, slightly giggling, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. How was someone that hot, so adorable?

“You were saying?” he said, putting the mug down on the table in front of you.

“I was just wondering,” Be quick, get it over with, you’ll feel better when you say it. “is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be? It doesn’t have to.” He added the second part quickly after.

“I- I think I do,” I smiled. Though he had just put his mug down, he picked it right back up, you did the same.

“Then a date it is.” You clinked cups. Still, something felt off. You were holding the cup up to your lips, but just far enough not to be able to drink from it. Your eyes glazed over as you focused them on the mural in front of you. It was of the Paris skyline. With the Eiffel tower in the middle, the Arc de Triomphe a bit to the left, on the other side stood the two symmetrical towers of the Notre Dame cathedral. It was probably geographically inaccurate, just good enough to keep everyone who had never been to the City of Love satisfied.

“Okay, something’s up.” Tom brought you back to the date. “What’s wrong? And, please, be honest.”

“I don’t know,” you huffed out a laugh. “But before you start to freak out, it’s nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“So, you kind of know what it is about.” he raised an eyebrow. He had a point. If you knew what it was not, it meant you knew what it was, indeed.

“I, uhm,” suddenly you felt very much aware of everything and everyone around you. Were they listening? “Well, I really want to apologise for being so distant outside of Instagram.”

“There’s really no need for that, darling,” he said. “I understand it, and should have been a bit more considerate. I should have realised sooner that bars and shit aren’t your cup of tea.. or hot chocolate.”

You both laughed.

“Yeah,” you were smiling, but the word came out a bit as a sigh, conveying your all the troubling thoughts that were going on in your brain.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Tom saw through it. You bit your lip, not sure how to say it. You didn’t want to say it. He would probably think you were a joke. Besides, all those people around. Some of them from your school. They could probably hear every word you were saying.

“Do you maybe want to text it to me?” he suggested with a kind smile. You hadn’t realised when he had moved, but he had let go of your shoulders, and his hand was now on top of yours. His thumb moved slowly over your skin, reassuring you that, whatever it was, it was okay.

How you hoped it was.

You grabbed your phone and started to type out your message, taking a deep breath before sending it to him. You heard the vibration in his pocket, and with it, your heart skipped with anxiety. Tom kept holding on to your hand as he took out his phone and read the text. His eyes shot wide open.

“Wait, really?”

_________________________________

“Never?” he asked, to which she bit her lip and shook her head.

No, it wasn’t possible.

“How has no one- nooo,”

“It just… never got far enough- No, I mean, ugh,” she finally took a sip of her hot chocolate. Tom had to admit that it was cute how that was her go-to frustration action. She wiped off the whipped cream from her lip. Tom couldn’t stop looking at them, they were just so perfect. He wanted to feel her, to taste her. He wouldn’t even mind the taste of cinnamon that would have remained on them.

“There was just never a guy that made me think, oh yeah, I want to kiss him,” she said after another sip of the hot chocolate.

“So, you’d want to kiss me?”

“Shut up,” she said glaring, but just to hide the big smile on her face.

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.” She flinched a bit at his words. “I don’t mean it in that way. You shouldn’t be ashamed of never being kissed. Sometimes it happens early on, sometimes it doesn’t. If it wasn’t for my pledge, I don’t think I would have had my first kiss till last year.” He confessed. y/n looked at him with eyebrows that had a twist of disbelief in them.

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear,” Tom laughed, putting his hands up. “So really, no judgement here.” Then he leaned in to whisper into her ear, “and I definitely won’t mind breaking you in,” He couldn’t keep a straight face saying it, and neither could she. He had thought it would make her nervous or flushed, but she just slapped him on his arms teasingly.

“In your dreams, Holland.”

“Fuck, I hope so.” That made her freeze, just for a second though. “Shit, too much?” He asked, afraid he had finally taken it too far with his inappropriate humour.

“No, you’re good.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, allowing Tom to do so as well.

“See, just because I’ve never been kissed, it immediately puts me under this label of being a prude or something, but I’m really not. I’ve just- had a really shitty love life.” Or just a complete lack of it.

“Well, I hope to change that.” He leaned in again and pecked her cheek. That finally got him the flushed reaction he had hoped for.

“You already did.”

_________________________________

Your hand moved up to your cheek, hovering above the area that he had kissed. You felt like an idiot, but with Tom, it didn’t even feel like a bad thing.

“We’ve known each other for less than two days, and I can already tell you, you’re way up there in the list of good dates.”

“Way up there? Give me stats.” He nudged on. You thought for a second.

“At least… top ten.”

“Top five? Oh C’mon, babe, I think I’m a bit better than that. Not to toot my own horn, of course.”

“Top five.” You said, ignoring the butterflies that had escaped in your stomach. He glared at you. You glared back, keeping your eyes on each other for another moment until he had dipped his finger in his hot chocolate and pressed it against your nose. You blinked in confusion.

“That just moved you down to number six.”

“Well, shit.” Tom leaned in and licked the whipped cream off your nose. As disgusting as it should have been, you burst into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in his chest to not disturb the rest of the restaurant. While you were trying to calm down, you felt Tom kiss the top of your head a few times.

Finally, you sat up again.

“Top three,” you stated. It was good enough for Tom. For now.

You drank the rest of your drinks in the best silence possible that could be kept as both of you kept laughing at each other. Finally, the mugs were empty. Tom paid for everything and let you take the lead to walk outside with the umbrella. When you opened the door, however, you saw that the storm had now passed over into a light drizzle. You kept the umbrella closed.

You were already letting yourself get taken up by the rain when Tom was outside. You thought he would come to join you, but he stayed under the little roof, watching you with a big smile.

“Not afraid of the rain, are you?” you asked. “Or are you made of sugar?”

“All I can say is, come and find out for yourself.” You were already a few steps away, so you hopped over to him, took his hand and took the final step, so you were touching chest to chest. His other hand found its way on your hip. You saw his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. You smiled and pulled him in closer, making you take a step back and exposing him to the weather.

“Mutherfucker!” He gasped, not having expected that. “Ohh, you’re good.”

Before you knew what was happening, he had picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You squealed from surprise before the both of you started laughing again. Eventually, he had to put you back down again, and your eyes widened in horror when you saw him walk to a large puddle.

“No, Tom! No, no, no.!” He put you down right next to it. Probably an inch from the water edge.

“C’mon, I’m not that mean.” he pouted.

“Nah, you’re a softy,” you poked his cheek. He grabbed your hand.

“Oi, I wouldn’t go that far.” then kissed the tip of your index finger, which you had poked him with a second before.

“Too late, I guess.”

“You sure about that? You’re still really close to that puddle babe. We wouldn’t want any… accidents!” He gripped you by the waist again, and the sudden movement made you feel like he was gonna throw you down into the puddle. You shrieked but soon felt his arms still around you and no parts of your body were soaked (only moderately wet from the light rain) or on the ground. He was still holding you.

“You never answered me,” he said, his sweet laughter was gone, and his eyes were on your lips again.

“Answer what?” you kept looking at his face as a whole, taking in every detail. The way his nose scrunched when droplets of rain well on it. How one of his eyebrows was more bushy and irregular than the other. The dimple in his chin, his freckles- everything.

“If you wanted to kiss me.”

His golden-brown eyes were so warm, even in the dim street lights at night. His wet hair was sticking to his face, but framing it so nicely. His jaw was sharp, it didn’t seem like it should be real.

“I do.”

His lips. Though thin and a bit chapped, they still felt so soft. The sweet taste of chocolate, mixed in with the rain that had fallen in the few moments that you stood outside. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in closer to him. It felt so good. So right.

You pulled away but with no idea how much time had gone by. His stands stayed in their position, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. Nothing came from it since you were still in an emotional daze.

Tom chuckled.

“Fuck, I should have slid into your DMs sooner.”

“Way to ruin the mood, Holland.”

“Oh, you love it.” He said before pulling you into another kiss.

The END

> song played in Le Moulin: Rendez-vous sous la pluie (Jean Sablon)

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)

> if anyone has a comment about how it had only been a day since they met etc. i wrote this 15k story in the span of 24 hours. i wish i could have added more to it but at this point, i am physically and emotionally exhausted and do not want to make it even longer.

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @spiderrrling @captainpeggy40 @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions-archive @fallinfortom @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @cicicantblog @musicalkeys @joyleenl @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014 @marvelouspeterparker

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #frat!au #fratboy tom #college!tom #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #stranger to lovers #college!au

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tomthesoftie · 4 years ago

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let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears

masterlist prompt list add yourself on my taglist!

In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat.

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties.

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours.

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan.

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers.

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically.

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision.

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids.

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration.

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes.

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground.

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.”

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle.

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies.

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship.

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life.

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips.

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair.

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal.

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance.

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.”

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation.

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

taglist: @big-galaxy-chaos @chloecreatesfictions-archive @dpaccione @cuddlykoala101 @tomshufflepuff @lmaotshollandd if you would like to be removed from the taglist, please send to my inbox

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sooibian · 3 years ago

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So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn’t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Innocence

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1918

Content Warnings - so much fluff, mild angst, platonic cuddling, relationships open to interpretation

Prompt/Inspiration - Inspired by the Devilgram “One Too Many Insults”

Summary - After spending the day at Purgatory Hall, you return home to learn that Mammon is missing.

AO3

It was Saturday evening and you were on your way home, after spending much of the day, at Purgatory Hall baking sweets with Luke. Since both of you shared a love for baking, it was something you often enjoyed together. And you went to Purgatory Hall to do it because cooking in the kitchen at the House of Lamentation also meant trying to keep 7 very nosey brothers (including 1 very hungry Beel) away long enough for you to finish.

You waved goodbye to Solomon, who had done you the courtesy of escorting you home after dinner, and let yourself inside to find absolute chaos waiting for you. Raised voices could be heard coming from the library area, so you headed there to see what all the fuss was about.

“Hey guys, I’m home.”

“MC!” Levi said, as he rushed over to greet you with a hug.

“Um, Levi? Is everything ok?” It was unusual enough for Levi to initiate any sort of physical contact when you were alone, so being hugged in front of everyone...mostly everyone...struck you as incredibly odd.

“Where’s Mammon?”, you asked, trying to catch a glimpse of Levi’s face as he pulled away. He refused to meet your eyes, and as you scanned the room you realized no one else was looking at you either. Finally Lucifer stepped forward, attempting to explain the situation.

“Apparently there was a bit of a misunderstanding today, and he was accused of stealing something of Levi’s.”

“Oookkkayy...and where is he…?” Mammon being accused of theft wasn’t exactly unusual. Even though he was only ever guilty less than half the time, that didn’t stop everyone from always blaming him whenever pretty much anything went missing.

“He left around lunch and hasn’t come back,” offered Satan.

“Lunch? That’s only 8 hours ago. On a Saturday. That doesn’t really seem like anything to worry about.”

“He may or may not have said that he was fed up with us for never believing him and always ganging up on him,” added Asmodeus, “...and something about never coming back.”

Ah, now things are starting to make more sense , you thought.

“So you all cornered him, accused him of something he didn’t do, he ran off, and then you found out he was actually innocent and now feel guilty because he wasn’t back before I got home? Is that about the gist of it?”, you asked, your anger rising as you watched the 6 men in front of you fidget and shuffle uncomfortably while you waited for a response.

“That would be one way to describe the situation, yes,” answered Lucifer, finally.

You heaved a sigh and pulled your DDD out of your pocket to see that the battery had died sometime earlier that afternoon. You were annoyed with yourself for not noticing sooner. The lack of notifications you received all day should have been a clue, but you had been having so much fun you let yourself carry on without checking in with anyone. You hoped Mammon wasn’t now mad at you too for thinking you had been ignoring him.

“I’m going to charge this and see if I can get a hold of him. The rest of you just stay out of my room. I’m not in the mood,” you said as you walked off.

You really shouldn’t have been surprised by what you heard, but part of you always tried to have faith in the brothers that they would actually learn from their mistakes.

For as long as you had been there, (and as you later learned, long before) Mammon always took the brunt of the blame for anything that went wrong, even when he wasn’t actually responsible or even involved. It was probably one of the first things you noticed when you had arrived here and were introduced to him. After getting to know him though, you realized just how hard he tried to do the right thing and even when he messed up, his heart was usually in the right place. Not to say he never actually did any of the things he was accused of - but more often than not, he was innocent or just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As you made your way to your room, you hoped that Mammon didn’t actually mean that he would never come back and that it had only been something he had said in the heat of the moment. You knew how sensitive he could be sometimes, and found yourself growing increasingly worried that maybe he did mean it and you wouldn’t get to see him again or even say goodbye properly when it was time for you to return to the human realm.

With those thoughts in mind, you entered your room, only for an arm to shoot out of the darkness and cover your mouth, pinning you to the door as soon as it had closed. You had been about to scream when you heard a familiar voice speaking to you.

“It’s me! Just me! Keep it down, alright?”, Mammon said in a loud whisper, as he tried to keep you restrained until he was sure you were calm. He knew if his brothers heard you, they would come rushing in to check without even knocking, and he really wasn’t ready to deal with them yet.

As soon as you recognized Mammon’s voice, your body relaxed, and you gave him a small nod as you placed your hands on the one held over your mouth to reassure him you weren’t going to scream. He then released you with a sigh, only for you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close.

“I was worried about you. I just heard what happened.”

“...I tried to call ya, but you didn’t answer,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and returning your hug.

“I’m sorry, my DDD died and I didn’t notice until I got back. I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise.”

Mammon nodded in understanding before letting you go and turning on the lights to your room. You released your grip on him as well, but left your hands resting on his shoulders to keep him near.

“Can you tell me why you’re here? All your brothers think you left.”

“Ummm...well...about that…” he gave a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his neck, “I did leave…jus’ ya know...I couldn’t think of anywhere to go...so I came back.”

“...and hid in my room for the rest of the day?”

He nodded again, offering you a sheepish grin. You laughed and gave him another hug around the neck before taking his hand and leading him to your bed. Something about the fact he thought hiding in your room was “safe” warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face.

“So,” you said, kicking your shoes off and crawling into bed, motioning for Mammon to join you, “do you want to tell me what happened? I already heard their version, so I want to hear yours.”

Mammon blushed at your concern as he laid down beside you, resting his head on your chest and looping an arm around your waist. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the real reason he had waited in your room was because he knew you’d eventually come back and cuddle with him like you were doing now. It had taken him some time to get used to just how nice you were to him, but after awhile he started to seek you out just so he could be spoiled...if only a little...and preferably without his brothers around. Though sometimes seeing the looks on their faces as you showered him with praise or affection was worth the minor embarrassment of them watching the whole thing.

“I was just hangin’ out in my room listen’ to music when Levi barged in and started yellin’ at me. Something about some limited edition blah blah blah figurine. Said he bought two of ‘em but now he could only find one,” Mammon explained, while you began to comb your fingers through his hair, “I asked him why he thought it was me and he just said ‘of course it was you! Who else would it have been!’ and like, how does he know that huh? Just because he thinks I’m a scumbag doesn’t mean I steal from him all the time, ya know? Wasn’t even like that figurine was worth that much anyways...and he just goes accusing me without any proof! How is that fair? It ain’t!”

You listened carefully as Mammon vented his frustrations, carding your fingers through his hair in a slow and steady rhythm to help him relax.

“And they always do that ya know? Always accusin’ me without any proof, sayin’ I’m a money grubber and a scumbag and whatever other insult they can think up on the spot. Don’t matter how many times they find out they were wrong, or how many good things I do either. They always blame me when somethin’ goes wrong.”

“So Mammon...can I ask you something?”, you said, giving him a reassuring squeeze with your arms.

“Yeah?”

“Did you take the figurine?”

Mammon stiffened, “...umm...well...that’s not really the point is it? The point is he accused me without proper proof!...ya know…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that confession, and hugged him closer to you. The more you thought about it, the more the entire situation seemed ridiculous. From Levi accusing Mammon of something (he was guilty of) without proof to Mammon hiding in your room all day to his brothers downstairs right now feeling guilty over chasing him off. It was just so...funny.

“Hey! Whattya laughin’ for? It ain’t funny!”

“Oh Mammon,” you laughed again as you hugged him tighter and placed a kiss on the top of his head. He never failed to keep things interesting for you, that’s for sure. And even though he was at fault, you knew this was about more than just him getting caught.

“Well, I suppose Levi did still accuse you without proof, and everyone else still ganged up on you, didn’t they? So I guess it’s alright to let them sit with their own guilt a little longer, don’t you think?”

“...maybe a little,” he said, trying to hide his smile.

“And don’t worry, we can figure out how to fix the mess with Levi’s figurine tomorrow. I’ll help you ok? So why don’t we just watch a movie for now and relax some, hmm?”

“No horror movies?”

“No horror movies.”

As Mammon watched you get up to grab your laptop, he thought about how glad he was that even though you learned the truth you were still being supportive. You didn’t lecture him like Lucifer would have, or mock him like Asmo might have. You simply promised to help him figure things out, without judgement.

And he knew he could always count on you to have his back and be there for him, regardless of the situation he found himself in. You always listened to him, and believed in him, sometimes even when he couldn’t believe in himself. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to tell you how thankful he was for that, and how much of a difference it made just to have one person on his side.

Maybe someday though, he thought, maybe someday he’d be able to tell you how he feels.

#gn!mc #platonic mammon #platonic relationships #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #mammon fanfic #mammon fluff

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

Text

Spellbinding (Chapter Seven-Part One)

Summary: A day before Tony Stark’s charity ball, (Y/N) is assigned her very-first mission as an Avenger and needless to say, she finds herself under extreme pressure not to fail.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: The Spanish in this chapter was translated with Google Translate, so I’m sorry if there’s a mistake in it.

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven (Part I) July 10th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“Hurry up, (Y/L/N), your Quinjet’s gonna be leaving soon and we still have to see if your suit’s working okay!”

As Bruce scolded Tony for being too pushy, (Y/N) finished fastening her sword to her belt with quaking fingers. After three months of extensive daily training, she was finally going on her first field mission as an Avenger; according to Director Fury and Steve, she had excelled in both magical and physical training and was finally ready to put her skills to good use. (Y/N) was excited, of course, but she was also a complete nervous wreck. What if I make a mistake and put the others in danger, she asked herself for the tenth time that day. She knew how much her teammates would be counting on her on this mission, and she was terrified of such high expectations resting squarely on her shoulders.

To distract herself from the butterflies in her stomach, she looked into the floor-length mirror and examined her brand-new uniform. It reminded her of Natasha’s full-body leather suit, but there were several distinct differences; (Y/N)’s bodysuit was made of black and purple leather, it included pieces of black leather armor and matching fingerless gloves and she wore knee-high leather wedge boots, silver arm circlets and gauntlets on her forearms. A long purple cloak hung from her shoulders by silver-toned clasps, and her sheathed sword hung from her waist. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection, her new suit making her feel just as empowered as the tower’s two resident Asgardians. Smoothing down her hair one last time, she took a deep breath and drew back the curtain separating her from the rest of the lab, causing both men to turn and gape.

Tony’s eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open almost comically. “Damn, (Y/L/N), you look…”

“Fantastic!” Bruce smiled widely.

“I was gonna say ‘badass’ but ‘fantastic’ works too.” The billionaire gestured for her to stand on a short stool before continuing. “We designed the leather of the suit to be breathable and flexible, the armor’s bullet-proof and it can even withstand extreme heat and cold to a certain degree.” Tony pointed to her silver gauntlets as he paced around her. “FYI, these were partly inspired by our little bonding incident a few weeks back, (Y/L/N), remember? They’re not vibranium like Capsicle’s shield but they’re still bullet-proof in case any get through your magic.”

(Y/N) twisted her forearms to examine the gauntlets better. “That’s amazing, Tony!” The billionaire smiled proudly at her compliment. “But, what about my glasses? I can’t wear them on missions and you guys know my eyes don’t react well to contact lenses…”

Bruce’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “That problem had us stumped for a while, but last week we finally managed invent a solution that didn’t involve cutting into your corneas with a laser.” He handed her a pair of metal-framed glasses and held her regular pair for her. “Put these on and press the button on the right side of the frame, please.”

“Oh, my goodness…” (Y/N)’s mouth fell open as she followed his instructions and examined her reflection in the mirror Bruce held up. The glasses had flickered once before turning completely invisible, making it look as if she didn’t wear glasses at all. “How did you two geniuses manage this?”

Both scientists looked pleased with her reaction. “Well, we just adapted the same cloaking technology that S.H.I.E.L.D. used on their helicarrier and improved upon it; anyone attacking you won’t realize you’re wearing glasses unless they sock you in the eye, which is something I’m pretty sure you’d stop from happening.”

“The lenses are bullet-proof, scratch and glare-resistant, they’re fitted so they won’t fall off and we made several pairs just in case something happens to these ones.” Bruce set down the mirror and picked up his clipboard to jot down some notes. “Now, does everything feel all right? Nothing’s too tight or too loose?”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) moved her arms and legs to be sure. “Everything feels perfect.” The moment Bruce finished writing down his notes, she jumped down from her stool and gave him a tight hug, smiling when she felt him slowly return it. “Thank you, Bruce.” She pulled away from him and gave Tony a hug, which he was much quicker to return. “And thank you too, Tony. The suit is wonderful and I feel much safer now that I have it!”

“No problem, (Y/N), we just want to make sure you’re protected when you go out there.”

“Yeah, Stevie Nicks, you should always use protection.” Tony smirked playfully as (Y/N) blushed and Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation at his suggestive comment.

Just then, Natasha walked in, dressed in her standard black leather bodysuit with her hair braided over her shoulder. “Nice suit, (Y/N)! Cap wanted me to tell you that the Quinjet’s leaving in five, so you’d better hurry up.”

“Thank you, Nat, I’ll be there in a minute,” She turned back to the two men as Natasha left and grinned. “Well, wish me luck!”

Bruce gave her a smile. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

Tony’s smirk widened. “Yeah, not that you need it, though; you’re gonna kick so much ass out there in that getup.”

Chuckling lightly, (Y/N) gave them one last glance before leaving the lab; on the way to the elevator, she heard someone call her name and turned to see Loki hurrying to catch up with her. Her heart beat even faster in her chest when she noticed that he was wearing her favorite outfit: fitted black slacks and an emerald-green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders. She mentally chastised herself before saying, “Hi Loki, what are you up to?”

“I couldn’t very well let my best friend leave on her first mission without wishing her luck now, could I?” Loki flashed her a grin, but she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “You look positively fearsome in that armor, by the way. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, and I guess I feel a little nervous,” She said truthfully as they stepped into the elevator, knowing better than to lie to him. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for any of the others getting hurt.”

Loki gently took her hand and held it between his own as the elevator rose, making her faintly blush at the contact. “Lady (Y/N), I can assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Our teammates can take care of themselves, and as long as you remember all the training you’ve excelled at over these past few months, you’ll be able to protect them and yourself if the need arises. Remember, everyone in this tower believes in you, but none more so than I.”

Looking into his sincere green eyes, she could feel her nervousness slowly begin to melt away and she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Loki, that really helped.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance,” He grinned before letting go of her hand. “And please try to hurry back, I don’t think I could handle going to Stark’s charity ball tomorrow evening and watch everyone make fools of themselves by myself.”

Stark Industries hosted over a hundred charity events for dozens of different causes and organizations every year, but one of the only ones held personally by the billionaire included an annual charity ball to raise money for children’s hospitals across the country. Since the Avengers had begun using the tower as their base three years ago, the ball had become increasingly popular as more and more people were willing to donate to attend and meet the heroes. (Y/N) was excited to go and promote such a worthy cause, but she was also excited for an entirely different reason: two weeks ago, Loki had asked her to accompany him as his date. She could vividly remember the moment he’d asked her…

“Loki? Loki, are you in there?” (Y/N) knocked on his door before sighing. “Listen, Steve told me that you haven’t been having a good day so I brought you some snacks. We can watch a movie, if you want? Trust me, nothing will cheer you up more than chocolate chip cookies and A Knight’s Tale! It’s about a squire who poses as a knight and competes in jousting tourna-”

“What’s jousting?”

(Y/N) shrieked and spun around to face a laughing Loki, pressing her free hand to her chest and smiling despite herself. “Loki, that wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack!”

Loki continued to snicker. “Apologies, my lady, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

“So, I take it that you’re having a better day now?” She followed him into his room and sat in her usual place on his couch, handing him his cookies with a raised brow.

He nodded, a cheerful look on his face. “Significantly better, actually. I suddenly remembered that Stark’s charity ball is in two weeks and that I’ll be able to enjoy it with you. That is, if you wish to accompany me…”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Loki, who else would I go with?” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile before gesturing to the television across from them. “So, snacks and a movie?” As they watched A Knight’s Tale, (Y/N) concluded that Loki was only asking her to accompany him as a friend; she was a little disappointed, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow her emotions to ruin a fun night for her and her best friend.

(Y/N) chuckled to herself as the memory faded; they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the floor’s glass doors. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time.” Before he could reply, they stepped out into the tower’s small hangar where a Quinjet was being prepared for departure on the protruding helipad.

“There you are, (Y/N), we’re almost ready to leave!” Steve called from the Quinjet’s ramp as he slung his shield onto his back and adjusted his helmet’s jaw strap.

Loki gave her a reassuring smile. “Good luck on your first mission, Lady (Y/N).” He leaned down to give her a hug but to her surprise, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her up off her feet; she giggled in surprise and he laughed, gently swaying her from side-to-side as she wrapped her arms around his neck and experienced the now-familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “And please, stay safe.”

“I will, Loki, I have an important engagement tomorrow night that I can’t miss, remember?” She joked, feeling a swell of pride when he chuckled lightly. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He set her gently on her feet and she reluctantly pulled away from his arms, giving him one last smile before following Steve into the Quinjet. The ramp closed behind them and (Y/N) quickly strapped herself into the seat next to a familiar face as the plane lifted into the air.

“Hi Scott, I haven’t seen you in a while!” (Y/N) had met Scott Lang during her first month as an Avenger; he was in awe that she was half-Light Elf and had nearly fainted from excitement when she gave him a small demonstration of her powers, and she was equally amazed with his suit’s ability to change sizes and the way he was able to communicate with ants. He wasn’t in the tower often but whenever he was, they got along very well. “How are you? How’s Cassie doing?”

Scott smiled, a gleam in his eyes that he got whenever anyone mentioned his five-year-old daughter. “Ah, I’m good, my buddies and I just opened up our security company – we call it X-CON, get it? – and Cassie’s doing great; I helped her read through a picture-book version of Charlotte’s Web and she’s been reading it all by herself for the past week!”

(Y/N) grinned, the pride in his voice filling her with happiness. “That’s wonderful, tell her I said ‘congratulations’! And congratulations to you for your company; I take it they let you come up with the name yourself?”

As the Quinjet continued to fly, (Y/N) continued talking to the energetic man, thankful that he was there to keep her mind off the nervousness surrounding her swiftly-approaching first mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, they had reached their destination: the Dominican Republic on the island of Hispaniola. Their mission was simple, to destroy a large weapons compound that was operated by a terrorist organization with known ties to Hydra. Scott would go in first and disable the nearly-impenetrable security system before splitting off with Natasha while (Y/N) and Steve stayed together; each group would then plant a batch of explosives around the vast compound. The explosives were rigged to a detonator Natasha held, but it was still imperative they get out as quickly as possible in case of any complications. Please let everything turn out all right, (Y/N) silently prayed as they trekked closer to the compound and took cover twenty yards away behind a fallen tree. The moment Steve gave him the signal, Scott pressed a button on the glove of his suit and instantly shrunk, and a moment later, the tiny outline of an ant could be seen in the fading moonlight, flying quickly towards the compound’s concrete wall.

“Don’t tell Tony, but I think your suit’s way cooler than his, Lang.” Natasha’s lips curled into a smile but her eyes continued to scan the area for any threats.

(Y/N) heard Scott’s soft chuckle through her comm link. “Black Widow likes my suit more than Iron Man’s? Awesome.”

“All right, you both remember the plan, right?” Steve looked up from his explosives-filled satchel and glanced at the two of them.

“We’ve been over the plan twenty times, Cap, we’re fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes but grew serious when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s face. “We’re fine, right (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) nodded once, trying to mask her nervousness with a smile. “Yeah, of course, Nat.”

“Hey super-dudes, I just disabled the security system so come on in whenever you’re ready! But, you might wanna hurry ‘cause I have to turn it back on after one minute so they won’t get suspicious…which you already know ‘cause we went over the plan on the Quinjet. My bad. And I just realized, (Y/N), you’re the only one of us who doesn’t have a cool superhero name and that’s just not acceptable, so I’m gonna make one up for you, okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile at Scott’s unique way of calming her jittery nerves. “Okay Scott, go ahead and make up a cool superhero name for me.”

“Time to go.” Steve pulled his shield onto his arm and gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine, (Y/N), don’t worry.” The two of them crept silently towards the compound and Steve motioned for her to get behind him before swiftly pulling the unlocked front door open. He immediately threw his shield, hitting the three surprised guards in the heads and catching it as they crumpled to the ground. Silently marveling at Steve’s impressive throwing skills, (Y/N) followed him as they continued down the vast hall.

“Cap, (Y/N), you’ve got two armed guards heading straight towards you on your left, and a couple of others coming up from behind.” Natasha said, revealing that she had already reached the compound’s control room.

Steve glanced at (Y/N) and gestured for her to take the lead before turning to prepare for the attack, and she immediately knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and concentrating all her energy into her hands, she summoned two balls of purple magic in her palms; the moment the two men turned the corner in front of them, she thrust her hands and magic outwards, engulfing the men in swirls of purple magic and causing them to slam into each other and then into the concrete wall behind them. They hit the wall with a sickening crunch and fell to the ground, unconscious. Behind her, Steve threw his shield and took out the other two guards.

Natasha chuckled through the earpiece. “Nicely done, Bad-Ass; Scott and I are onto Phase Two, so you two are on your own. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point when we’re done.”

The two Avengers continued down the halls of the compound, occasionally coming across the remnants of Natasha and Scott’s handiwork but strangely no more armed men. In no time, they reached the compound’s warehouse, which was filled with hundreds of wooden crates. Weapons, (Y/N) thought as she frowned in disgust. This particular terrorist organization was responsible for half a dozen attacks around the world in recent years that had resulted in countless civilian casualties, so she had no problem with working to take them down along with Hydra.

They quickly began planting the explosives all around the vast room but just as they finished, at least two dozen armed guards burst in. Steve immediately ran into battle, but (Y/N) froze in fear, her legs unwilling to move. Time seemed to slow around her as a familiar feminine voice spoke in her head: “Kiddo, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent…”

You’ve spent three months training for this exact moment, (Y/N) thought to herself, now it’s time to show the world its newest Avenger. She unsheathed her sword and charged at the men; she sliced through their guns like butter before they could pull the triggers and deflected their knife attacks with ease, twirling and ducking around them and using their slowness to her advantage as she slashed at them. She was vaguely aware of Steve fighting nearby but she was entirely focused on her task of incapacitating her attackers. Her luck left her, however, when she kicked an attacker to the ground; the last man standing took her by surprise then with a hard punch to the stomach and wrenched her arm behind her back, causing her to gasp in pain and drop her sword.

“No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?” The man growled into her ear as he pointed a knife to her chest, its tip puncturing the exposed skin along her collarbone.

“Todavía no has visto nada.” She replied, elbowing him hard in the stomach and ducking under his arm as he doubled over in pain. Rolling out of the way, she picked up her fallen sword and raised it just in time to block his knife attack; she countered it by twisting the knife out of his hands and slamming the hilt of her sword against his head. Her attacker fell to the ground like a stone, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) looked around for Steve and saw that he was locked in combat with a larger man. She was about to hurry to his aid when she caught sight of a sniper crouching atop a tower of crates and pointing a rifle at Steve’s unaware back. Without a moment of thought, she sheathed her sword and ran into the line of fire just as the sniper pulled the trigger. Time seemed to slow down and she could practically see the bullet flying through the air; raising both her hands and summoning her magic, she was rewarded with the sight of the bullet ricocheting away and a millisecond later, the sight of the sniper being engulfed in a swirling purple cloud and thrown roughly against the wall before falling to the ground.

She turned to see Steve standing over his defeated attacker, a stunned expression on his face. (Y/N) only breathed a sigh of relief, her pride and relief overtaking her earlier nervousness.

“Wait, you speak Spanish?”

Scott’s legitimately confused tone causing her to stifle a smile. “Yes, Scott, I speak some Spanish. A little French, as well.”

“As much as I’d love to learn more about Trilingual (Y/N), we’ve got a mission to finish. Scott and I are already at the rendezvous-”

Just then, the unmistakable sounds of thundering footsteps echoed from the hall; it sounded as if nearly fifty heavily-armed men were approaching, all heading right for them. When they turned to look through the small window of the door, they could clearly make out the bazookas the first several men held in their arms as they approached. They plan on sacrificing their weapons and their lives just to kill us, she thought with a horrified gasp.

(Y/N) quickly used her magic to keep the door barred and whirled around to face Steve, an undoubtedly insane plan coming to mind. “Nat, you have the detonator. Press the button when I tell you to.”

“But you and Steve are still in there!”

“Nat, if we don’t blow this place to hell right now, then they’ll be the ones to do it! Besides,” Steve’s confident blue eyes never left hers as he gave her an encouraging nod. “(Y/N) has a plan.”

Natasha remained silent for several moments. “All right, tell me when.”

“I really hope your crazy idea works, (Y/N), or else you two are gonna be toast.”

Hurrying to the center of the warehouse, (Y/N) knelt, pulling Steve down with her, and held her arms up above their heads; she was grateful that the super soldier wrapped an arm around her waist and raised his shield as a precaution, as things were about to become much shakier. Summoning every ounce of strength and power she could without passing out, she created a swirling bubble of purple magic to fully surround them. I love you, Loki, she thought just before shouting out, “Now!”

Explosions went off around them and caused the earth to quake, enormous balls of fire to expand across the room and the warehouse to begin crumbling away around them. To her great relief, her magical force-field held, deflecting the fire and debris and keeping the air inside fresh, but her arms began to shake with effort. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was lifting an immeasurable weight but she continued to hold her magic in place despite the pain. I have to protect Steve, I have to protect Steve, she repeated in her head, gritting her teeth and concentrating all her remaining energy on her magic. That last bit of effort did the trick; yelling in pain, magic pulsed outwards from the force field, vaporizing everything within fifty feet of them and extinguishing the blazing fires. She collapsed against Steve and struggled to remain conscious, the force field surrounding them finally fading away; they both immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with smoky air.

“C’mon (Y/N), stay with me,” Wasting no time, Steve stood and pulled her into his arms, quickly carrying her through the thick smoke and towards the distant tree line. “I’ve got you, can you stay awake for me? Stay awake, (Y/N), we’re almost there, just keep your eyes open…”

She opened her mouth to respond but could only violently cough; after blacking out for what only felt like a moment, she blinked her eyes open and realized that they were back on the Quinjet and already in the air. Her head was resting in Steve’s lap, and Natasha and Scott were leaning over her; all three of them had equally concerned expressions on their faces. “(Y/N)! Thank God you’re okay!”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked up at all three beaming Avengers. “Did…did we finish the mission? Who’s flying the Quinjet?”

“Don’t worry, I put it on autopilot and yeah,” Natasha nodded, a proud smile stretching across her face. “Yeah, we finished the mission all thanks to you, Bad-Ass. Seriously, what you did was fucking amazing, (Y/N).”

Steve grinned; he had taken off his helmet while she was unconscious, and the parts of his face that hadn’t been covered were streaked with soot. “Not too shabby for your first mission, doll.”

“And while you were off being awesome, I came up with the perfect superhero name for you,” Scott grinned triumphantly before continuing. “How about ‘The Cosmic Sorceress?’ ‘Cause based off what Captain America here told us and what we saw ourselves, you showed a lot of bad guys that you’re a scary-ass force to be reckoned with, and bad-assery like that deserves a name to match.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, a smile slowly stretching across her face as she looked up at her fellow Avengers. “You know what? I love it, Scott.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spanish Translations: No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?-You're not so tough now, are you bitch? Todavía no has visto nada-You haven't seen anything yet.

A/N: (Y/N) finally has a ‘made-up name’ like the others! Sorry to leave you in suspense, but Loki and (Y/N)’s ‘date’ will be the next chapter so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Seven-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #tony stark #iron man #bruce banner #hulk #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #scott lang #ant man #marvel cinematic universe

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laurenairay · 4 years ago

Text

More Than Words - T. Barrie

Summary: Tyson had fallen in love, but he just couldn’t find the words to tell her.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff, it’s just super cute okay?

A/N: I reached 500 followers today and I’m just so so happy. So I thought I’d write a little fic with my one-true-love TBear to celebrate. You’re all so lovely and wonderful, and I appreciate every single one of you!

Tyson wasn’t the best with words. He knew that. Sure, he could talk until the cows came home about completely trivial things, but anything meaningful? Absolutely not. He just got so…tongue-tied. Asking him to speak fully from the heart was like asking him to stand in front of multiple Shea Weber slapshots – he really didn’t want to unless he absolutely had to. Even then it was with great reluctance.

And then he met Elizabeth.

He bumped into her, quite literally and completely by chance, queuing to buy pastries at a bakery. It had been one of those days where he didn’t care what the trainers thought, a bad enough day that he needed to cheat on his diet, and when he’d turned around after paying, he’d nearly knocked her on her ass.

Naturally he’d started apologising straight away, rambling on about what an idiot and a clutz he was as he helped her up from the ground, but the sweet smile she sent him as she shook her head made his heart feel like it was about to burst. It was all he could do to ask for her name and then ask for her number.

Elizabeth, or Lizzie as she preferred, had changed his world around without even meaning to. He found himself wanting to let her know just how much she meant to him, even without knowing how to do it. She didn’t even mind that he wasn’t the best at expressing himself – she took every single verbal stumble with a smile, accepting kisses instead of verbal confessions, even though Tyson knew she deserved more.

So much more.

So Tyson came up with a plan. Okay, Tyson had drunkenly called Nate one night, and was overheard by both EJ and Gabe, and the four of them had come up with a plan. He was going to write love notes to her, writing down everything that he always messed up saying out loud. Little sweet love notes, at random times, whenever he had a thought about her. He just hoped that she wouldn’t run for the hills at his ineptitude. She wouldn’t, right?

After waking up to texts of encouragement and a mild headache (rum was never a good choice), as well as an email confirmation of an order of multiple post-it notes and colourful pens, Tyson could only hope.

Waking up to your smile is the favourite part of my morning.

Lizzie found this first one on her travel coffee mug the next day, making her giggle as she heard Tyson’s bedroom door closing.

You light up my day every time you say my name.

This one was just tucked inside her handbag, making her smile as soon as she got to work.

Having you in my life makes each day a little brighter.

Lizzie woke up with this attached to her forehead, after Tyson had left for an early practice, and she fell back asleep with a smile on her lips.

I’m lucky to be able to call you my girlfriend.

This one she found on her steering wheel, after Tyson cleared off the snow for her one morning, making her heart skip a beat.

You are one in a million – I value you so much.

Lizzie found this one in her dressing gown pocket after a particularly bad day at work – the smile it gave her made her feel 100 times better straight away.

I wish you realised just how beautiful you really are.

Everyone had bad self-esteem days, and this one she found taped the fridge after a sad moment, making her stomach fill with butterflies.

You inspire me to be a better person.

Lizzie’s eyes had teared up when she found this one taped to the bathroom mirror – Tyson truly didn’t know how much of an amazing person he was, did he?

Tyson was sitting on the sofa watching a movie when Elizabeth got home from work. Immediately he smiled at her, earning a brilliant smile back, and he beckoned her over to sit with him. The sound of her laughter as he looped his arms around her waist made his stomach fill with butterflies, and he buried his face in her neck to stop himself saying something stupid.

“Nice to see you too, Tys,” Lizzie giggled.

He just pressed a kiss to her neck in response. They sat in silence for a little while, just holding each other, until Lizzie cleared her throat.

“I’ve just got to ask something,” Lizzie said softly.

Tyson froze a little, before lifting his head and nodding. “Okay?”

“Why have you started leaving me love notes?” she asked hesitantly.

Hesitant…because she didn’t like them?

Lizzie saw the fear on his face and immediately shook her head. “I appreciate them so much, don’t get me wrong – I just wanted to know why?”

Tyson swallowed heavily, trying to smile at her, before he gave up.

“I just…I wanted to let you know all the things I couldn’t say, I guess,” he mumbled.

Lizzie just smiled, cupping his face with her hand. “You don’t need to say anything, you know that right? You don’t have to do things just because that’s what society and movies tell you that you should,”

Tyson laughed softly, turning his head to press a gentle kiss to her palm. How did she know how to make him feel better with just words?

Just words. Hah.

If she could do it, so could he. Right?

“Hey, Lizzie?” Tyson said suddenly.

“Yeah, Tys?” she asked, looking up at him.

And at that moment, there was only one thing he could say. So he took a deep breath, channelling every single terrifying feeling in his body.

“I love you,” he murmured.

The smile that spread across her lips made all the nervousness worth it. Absolutely 100% worth it.

“I love you too,” she said happily, “so much,”

Turns out, confessing his feelings wasn’t so hard after all, with the right person.

#my writing #follower milestone celebration #i love and appreciate you all!#tyson barrie #love notes are one of my favourite things #tyson barrie fic #tyson barrie x oc #tyson barrie blurb #tyson barrie fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey blurb

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh

Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).

Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,

Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3

Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)

The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick.

Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here.

It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business.

When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning.

He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.

“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”

The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay.

It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one.

His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”

“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”

Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable.

“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan.

Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.

“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”

“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways.

“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”

“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.”

“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch.

“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.

There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.

The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous, “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”

“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth.

“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.

Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”

He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away.

“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”

“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?”

“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”

Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?”

Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”

“There anything else I can do to help?”

“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”

“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth.

“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.”

“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”

Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”

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

Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start.

“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth.

Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him.

The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits.

“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”

A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure.

A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same.

Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.

“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away.

“That’s how my mate wants to play?”

“J-just following your instructions, babe.”

An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”

The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread.

“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.

“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”

“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”

Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”

“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”

The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”

“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”

Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”

“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs.

“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”

Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”

“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat.

A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”

“Uhhuh.”

“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”

“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip.

“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”

“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”

The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”

“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”

Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed.

“And how does this look, big guy?”

“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes.

The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable.

“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.

“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers.

“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust.

He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him.

“Holy fuck that was fast.”

“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”

“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”

Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”

“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”

The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea.

“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck.

“You catch on quick, big guy.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”

“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”

Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him.

After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed.

“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs.

Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”

A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”

His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be.

“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”

He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.

“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”

A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit”

“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.”

There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.

“There, that’s done it.”

Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster.

Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”

“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg.

Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”

He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations.

Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened.

Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-

“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye.

“Barclay, look at me please.”

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would.

“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”

Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.

“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.

“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #reverse!AU #reverse AU #monster march

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detective-keen · 4 years ago

Text

A wonderful Christmas time / Chloe and Agatha

Where : Christmas marker When : Christmas week Who : @chloeinbetween & @detective-keen

Summary : Agatha drags Chloe out to get some fresh air and rediscover the warmth of Christmas time.

TW: chronic illness, domestic abuse mention, emotional abuse mention, lydiaplot cw

The sky cleared shortly after lunch, and when Chloe suggested a trip to the Christmas market, Agatha immediately agreed. Did she feel guilty for not being able to help her more? Nothing was more uncertain. Agatha reassured herself by telling herself that she was helping her by offering her a place to stay while she could settle in a place all to herself, but she could see that the young woman was not doing well. And she wondered how it was possible that Lydia could have orchestrated such horrors for so long, without ever having been arrested. Agatha told herself that it was impossible that no one suspected her. She wasn't really like other humans, that infamous woman, that monster hiding behind her picturesque beauty, but she must have been spotted at one point or another. Her crimes had started a long time ago. Agatha found it hard to conceptualize all of this, but she firmly believed that the oldest ID cards they had found were those of the baleful fae's oldest victims. So many lives destroyed couldn’t possibly leave anyone undisturbed…

The lights at the Christmas market weren't bright enough to bring joy back to the young woman's heart, while her mind remained troubled by the whole ordeal. She often thought about it. Although Agatha shared the case with others, she was determined to find Lydia, and put her behind bars, the murderous bitch. That was all she deserved: to have all power taken away from her, and to rot, to turn dull, and to die out. To suffer as she had made all these people suffer. This was an adequate punishment.

A mulled wine stand brought her back years, and pulled her out of her thoughts. As a child, she remembered that her father and mother made that. The scent of spices then perfumed the whole house, announcing the arrival of Christmas dinner, the gifts, of her cousins, and Christmas movies while the grown-ups conversed about subjects that did not interest her.

Agatha approached it. Her cheeks rose from the cold, she turned to Chloe and smiled at her before asking if she wanted some. "It was kind of a tradition in my family," she explained, as she pulled out her wallet to pay the seller.

Chloe had bought herself a new coat, new woolen sweater, new hat and gloves, all so that in the hours she had energy to, she could enjoy being outside. Even the most wretched places could be made to look magical with the right collection of LEDs and pretty market stalls. In the early afternoon, the sun was already low, and the air was refreshingly biting against her skin. Since she’d moved her things over to Agatha’s, she’d seen Agatha’s concerned looks on more than one occasion. A dozen pills for a dozen different ailments, all brought on by her last four years. Not that the doctors saw it like that. Not that Chloe really cared what the doctors thought was the cause for everything. She just wanted to manage it, day by day, so that she could do things like this. Walk around the christmas market with Agatha, drinking in all the sights and smells. Cinnamon and cloves and hand made candles in every shape and size. She followed Agatha with almost a childlike wonder at all the lights, not even realising where they’d stopped until she looked around. “Yeah, yeah I would. This and… and peppermint bark was always something I picked up around christmas time.”

Agatha handed the paper cup to Chloe. She was delighted to see that there was an ingenuous and awe-inspiring glow in the other woman's gaze, as she was surrounded by equally heartwarming lights, sounds and smells. If Chloe felt like a lump of coal on the verge of going out most of the time, and though she was far from a fanned flame now, there was a light in her and that was already a lot.

Agatha couldn't help but worry. She knew full well that Chloe was not out of the woods, that leaving Lydia had cost her dearly, and that no one could guess what would happen next. So it was foolish to get attached to this young woman in any way - Agatha had never been one to depend on others and was not too worried about that- and yet that was what she did when spending time with Chloe. Maybe she would regret it, but for the moment it seemed more important to help her rebuild. She owed her that much, she who still felt so guilty for shooting her colleague, for having seen Todd die without being able to intervene, for not understanding, for not being able to really help as she wanted.

"Peppermint bark?" Agatha couldn't recall the last time she had eaten that. It had never really been a thing that they had done with her parents, but she could understand how important those things were. The market was a bit crowded, and she had to squeeze through passersby to access the stall. They sold all kinds of things here. If her eyes were caught by the sight of waffles the size of her head, she searched for the sought after bark instead. "Ah, there we go," Turning her back to the tempting waffles, Agatha, wide-eyed, couldn't escape what she had in front of her. A stall as ostentatious as it was in bad taste faced her. In the middle of a decor entirely done in black and white, people in black leotards, their faces painted white, squirmed silently around a large box covered with stripes. Although she didn't yet believe that mimes were innately evil creatures, she still felt deeply uncomfortable when confronted with their weirdness. “We should get away from here,” she turned to check on Chloe, and once again her eyes were caught by the food. Food certainly was a good way to make her forget about the cursed sights of this town. “I’ve never heard of that,” narrowing her eyes at a label, she read out “Hops in the stomach ?” The little gums, shaped like rabbits, looked quite adorable, but she simply couldn’t believe that tagline. Still she was intrigued. “Well now I have to try that. Do you want to pick a mix with me Chloe?” She offered, hoping that she wouldn’t end up eating these on her own.

Chloe chuckled at the way Agatha’s eyes clung to the waffles greedily, and when Chloe inhaled the smell of warm caramelised sugar was incredibly tantalising. “You can have some, you know, I don’t mind waiting!” Chloe said softly, her protest mild. it felt wrong, trying to give people permission to do things, which made it all the more important to do, right? But as Agatha turned, Chloe froze as well, staring at the black and white theme. It was one thing to awkwardly dodge a security guard, another to see a stall covered in stripes. The mimes…. signed at her silently and without malice, but she still shivered and shuffled past them awkwardly. For a second, Chloe lost sight of Agatha in the crowd and began to panic, before realising that she was in front of a different stall. Candies of every stripe and flavour were lined up in cotton bags, offered up for them to build their own pick and mix bag from. Chloe touched Agatha’s arm for a split second just to reassure herself that she was real and there, before smiling nervously and nodding. “Yeah, sure.” The cashier offered them a paper bag, and Chloe started with a small scoop of ‘Fizzing fireworks,” that looked like little liquorice beans. “Your turn to choose the next ones?”

Agatha pursed her lips to the side, as if she doubted her ability to gobble up one of those waffles whole. If she couldn't finish it, she could always give a piece to her new friend. Finally deciding to order one, she walked away to get some napkins at the other end of the stall and lost sight of Chloe for a moment. The latter approaching her, she gave him a beaming smile, before trying to wipe away the sugar from the corners of her lips. “Let’s see…” she glanced at the paper bag, watching the liquorice bean cover the rabbits. “Mmmh, what about… Coco bombs.” The white chocolate balls were covered in coconut flakes, looking like they begged to end up in her stomach. “Would you like a piece of my waffle?” She wanted to save space for the candy now, and knew that the waffle would take too much room if she were to finish it alone. Giving Chloe a puppy eyed look, she tore a piece of waffle off, handing it to her : “Come on, it’s great. You won’t regret it,” she assured her.

“Oh, uh, just a small piece,” Chloe agreed, her eyes widening as Agatha dropped a chunk in her hand before she’d even finished her sentence. She took a small bite, and smiled gratefully. Even if she wanted to there was a lump in her throat that held back the word thank you. As the sugar of the waffle dissolved in Chloe‘s mouth, she remembered that she was not used to this kind of sweetness, neither the kind from the waffle nor the kind from Agatha. Between the two of them, they quickly selected a few more flavours for their bag of sweets before putting it on the weighing scale. Chloe tapped her card against the reader – contactless was also something that she was still getting used to – and picked up the bag offering the first one to Agatha. “My treat,” she said, before looking around. “Let’s get away from the mimes first, actually.”

Agatha deadpanned. "I'm nothing but generous," she was not usually one to share her food with others, but she told herself that Chloe had been deprived for too long of the greatness of waffles, and that anyway, she needed room for the candy they were picking out. And if it could let Chloe see that there were kind people still populating the Earth then all the better. She licked her lips and wiped her mouth clean all at once, which now that she had done it, didn't seem like the brightest thing she had ever done. Her eyebrows raised, she looked at Chloe as she rubbed her hand against her slacks. "Don't. I'm clearly not as smart as I claim to be," with a giggle, she looked back at her waffle and sighed. Thank God she did not believe in things being too pretty to be eaten. What kind of nonsense was that?

"You know what, excellent idea," she didn't protest about Chloe paying for the sweets, although she had that thankful look in her eyes as she looked at her. "I gotta say, I don't feel comfortable around them either. They are just so weird, you know?" She shook her head, mimicking a shiver. "You should see their bar and restaurant. Awful. I mean the food's alright, but... Well let's just say I'll never bring you to those," some people claimed that mimes were evil. While Agatha rolled her eyes at that, she understood why someone might think so. There was an uncanny, unsettling vibe that seemed to envelop these artists. Taking a piece of candy from the bag, she put it in her mouth and while she was pleased with the taste, she felt as if there was something tickling her throat and she couldn't repress laughter as she put her hand to her neck. "No, no. I hate being tickled," she cried.

“Oh! Someone gave me a map of all the mime related places to avoid. I was almost…. well, I was attacked by one a while back, so, they’re high on my radar to avoid,” Chloe whispered, looking furtively at the mimes to see if they were listening. One mimed a smile at her, and she quickly jerked back to look at Agatha. “I’m shocked to learn that the food is enjoyable at all. Their meal delivery service leaves… a lot to be desired.” Once they were out of sight of the mimes, Chloe was more than comfortable to pluck a treat out of the bag for herself/. Chloe bit down on the candy as she turned back to Agatha in bemusion. “I’m… not tickling you?” Chloe replied, staring at Agatha in growing concern as the woman jerked and flinched while laughing unrelentingly. “Are... you okay?” The candy in her mouth began to pop and fizz like pop rocks on steroids, and when she opened her mouth little sparks like fireworks popped out. Chloe’s eyes widened with alarm, although the sweet sour flavour was in fact… surprisingly enjoyable.

“That’s a thoughtful thing to do,” she might have not been scared by those mimes, they were unsettling to her, and the only reason she had pushed the door to their restaurant was for the food. Her mother had made her promise not to take her there ever again, which while it seemed a bit much, also did not feel too weird to her. The music being played on loop alone could have justified this permanent decision. “It’s not the best food in town, but there’s something about it, I couldn’t be able to tell what it is, that makes you want to get more.” It was only her promise to her mother that had kept her from going back. Then, after a while, this need to go back had faded naturally. Of course Agatha could not suspect that it had to do with a very special ingredient.

“I had no idea they did meal deliveries, although if you say that it’s atrocious, I think I’ll save myself from this pain.” She remembered that the former sergeant used to eat food from such services. She wondered if he had been a customer of this one too.

The mimes now at a distance, she could tell that Chloe was a little bit more relaxed, to the point of giving her tickles. I’m… not tickling you? She was not. Her eyes a bit wider, she looked at Chloe with worry as she saw light, bursts of light, almost like tiny fireworks escaping her mouth. Still, the detective wiggled her torso, holding her arm to protect herself from tickles, only for those to start somewhere else. It was when she felt it reach her feet (and then promptly fade away) that she was left with this odd feeling : what did I just eat? The candy was really good, but that kind of effect was not one she ever had experienced with food. Carefully, she picked another. It must have been the one Chloe had just eaten, because along with the fizziness, came the same outburst of light: sparks shooted out of her mouth, but it was the flavour of the candy that satisfied her the most. She couldn’t recall trying any that had been so intense with their taste. “Those are so good?!”

“I don’t know if it’s from the actual restaurant, because Lydia actually kinda liked the restaurant, but the food is so bad,” Chloe replied almost thoughtlessly, before freezing. People always got weird when she mentioned Lydia, because for them it was such a nightmare while for Chloe it… had been a nightmare, but it had also been her reality. Talking about Lydia was habit… just not for anyone else. She had no idea how Agatha would respond, if at all, but she was relieved for the distraction.

Chloe was not convinced good was the word she’d describe the flavour she was experiencing. It was as if her tongue was completely incapable of tasting anything else ever, she’d hit maximum flavour capacity. How did they even do that?/ Had candy making technologies really improve that much in just four years? As quickly as it had been there, it melted away into her mouth, not even leaving a trace. Intrigued, Chloe plucked another out of the bag. She balked. In her hand was a small black and white striped hard candy, even though neither of them had selected them. Making an executive decision, Chloe chucked the mime candy on the ground and stamped on it. The hard candy cracked under her heel silently, and when she checked underneath her shoe, it was gone. “I hate that,” chloe said softly, before plopping another candy in her mouth. “Oh, oh, this one is a little like a jawbreaker? It keeps, oh, this is good, each layer is changing flavour.” Apple, cherry, cola, strawberry, mint, it was changing very fast but the effect was never too jarring.

The name of Lydia should have brought an eyebrow raise from Agatha. Instead, she glanced at Chloe, wondering if she should have said something. The woman chose to remain quiet. Chloe must have spoken about what had happened with Lydia hundreds of times already, to her, to other detectives, to psychiatrists and more, each time reliving it over again. It was only cruel to ask if she wanted to talk about it every time Lydia’s name would be mentioned. Someone eager to get details might pretend to “care”, but caring was allowing Chloe to talk about it when she wanted to, listening and being there for her.

A change in the conversation came, naturally, unexpectedly, in the shape of a striped round hard candy. She watched as the other woman crushed it under her shoe, expecting a satisfying sight, but there was no trace left of it. “Holy fucking Mary, what in the goddamn,” it seemed Chloe was not so impressed, but rather blasée. It must have seemed weak compared to what she had been through, Agatha figured. “Hate is the word,” she agreed. She picked through the bag to check whether some other black and white horrors had found their way in it. “I wonder how those ended up here. The shop owner didn’t seem like one of them,” there she was, speaking like those she once considered agents of chaos ; people that she once put in the same box as flat earthers or evolution theory deniers : the mime haters. She did not want to be so prejudiced against them, but they did not do much to help their case. “Really? Isn’t it a bit too much?” She wondered how they had achieved that without it all feeling like a tasteless mixture. “I’m sorry about the mimes. But hey, those weirdos aside, how do you like the market so far? Pretty nice, huh? It’s not Germany, but I’d say we’re doing pretty good.”

“I’m definitely just pretending that didn’t exist,” Chloe said weakly about the mime candy, with a false smile that didn’t quite match her jitters. “Seriously, seriously don’t eat any striped food.” She walked them along the stalls as Agatha checked for more dangerous treats, chewing on the red wine flavoured sweet in her mouth. “It is a bit much,” Chloe chuckled, but finished the treat all the same, gulping it down when it tasted like cinnamon and apple crumble. “No! I’m enjoying it. Really. Thanks for… hauling me out here. I know I took some convincing.” Because of the fae she was sure she’d encounter between the fairy lights. It was good to be reminded that sweetness lingered in this town too. “Let’s go experience the rest of it?” Chloe suggested quietly. It had been so long since she’d been allowed to want. She would cherish every christmas-light moment of it.

#domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #chronic illness tw #lydiaplot cw #wickedswriting #para #chatzy #para chloe

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keanuvibe · 5 years ago

Text

Professor Reeves (Keanu Reeves x Reader)

A/N: Okay, here it is. The full continuation of the teaser i posted earlier this week :) I'm v excited about this okee. Thank u @keanusreefs for inspiring me, ily<3

Words: 7.0K

Warnings: Swears, Age-gap, SMUT ;), teacher/student (does that need a tag?)

Disclaimer: all characters, places, and people are of my own imagination save for Keanu :) thank you for reading <3

The bell ringing overhead signaled the end of class and the shuffle of students erupted throughout the quiet room. The mild anxiety that came with first day nerves began infecting your veins again, and you took a deep breath standing up. You gave the teacher a nod on the way out, beginning the trek to your final class of the day.

You are a freshman in college, a newbie. However, the catch is: you’re twenty-eight. You started late, leaving highschool with big aspirations didn't turn out like you’d hoped. Being into movies and film since you were a young child, you decided a career in acting was your best option to maybe, eventually, move up in the ranks and get famous. Shortly after high school graduation, you moved to New York and began starring in small plays. Each night you hoped a scout would enter the audience and give you the break you were looking for, but over the years nothing happened. During the day you worked as a bank teller, having started after running out of money. The job was great, and you ended up staying at that location for six years before it got robbed.

You ended up moving back to your home state and with your parents at twenty-six. You were kind of a deadbeat for two years before your parents urged you to take a couple ‘fun’ classes at the local community college; mentioning how the school had a wonderful drama program. Having nothing better to do, you took out a small student loan, got a part-time job as a waitress, and enrolled at Tulip Ridge Community College focusing on Theater and Acting. You chose a few small art classes to fill the first few hours of the day, and a required English course as well, leaving your last class of the day to be Drama.

Luckily, the theater department wasn’t far from English, being that it is the class prior. You made it to the Drama room placed in a large room just off the hallway from the auditorium, greeting a hustle of students. The ages ranged, but for the most part it looked to be teens fresh from highschool. You scanned the room, greeting the over decorated space. Props from previous shows, you assumed at least, littered the painted white brick walls leaving barely any white to show. Long tables with cheap plastic school chairs sat in the middle of the room, parallel to a large prop presidential stand. On the wall behind the stand was the whiteboards with a projector screen pulled down covering the center. You assumed that was where the teacher stood. You didn’t even know their name.

In the back of the room stood a mock carpeted stage. It was most likely the place they either used to practice plays when the auditorium was occupied or sat an audience in when they did more intimate shows with a smaller crowd, like a dine-in show. You did plenty of those with your theater company in New York.

Picking a table that was empty, you quickly hustled to it before anyone else could and sat down in a corner seat. As a couple minutes passed, more rowdy theater kids had filled the room; greeting the others from their summer breaks. Most of the crowd seemed young, however the wonderful thing about community college is there's always going to be older people.

“Hi, I’m June.” A high-pitched tone spoke, catching your attention. Turning your head, you noticed a lady had taken the seat next to your own. She looked older, maybe early thirties. She donned long brunette hair and was dressed as though it was the year 1984.

“Oh, uh, Hi.” You smiled back, holding your hand out to shake instinctively, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She smiled wide. “Not to pry, but, I haven’t seen you at Tulip Ridge before, are you new?” June seemed like a preppy type, but very vintage.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a freshman.” You responded with a slight chuckle.

“Oh, well, welcome!” The woman responded, cheer evident in her tone. You were about to respond and ask her a few questions, however you were interrupted before you began.

“Good afternoon class, I’m Professor Reeves.” The humble, deep voice of the teacher startled you and you quickly glanced in his direction. Eyes widening, you greeted the sight of the delicious man. He was tall, towering over the presidential podium prop he stood behind. His hair was long and disheveled framing his face perfectly. He donned a dark brown tweed jacket with a soft green button up underneath, however, and unfortunately, you couldn’t see the bottom half.

“Welcome back, how were your breaks?” He asked, looking around the room. Students that seemed to know the man chimed back with colorful answers, prompting the man to laugh. You looked over to June who seemed engaged and intrigued by whatever the man was doing. So, is Professor Reeves the hot teacher of Tulip Ridge? What makes it even worse is he’s the Drama teacher. You’ve always had a weakness for theater boys; probably just the inner thespian in you. You had a few boyfriends back in New York, however their ego’s always tended to get the best of them and you’d have to break things off.

“I see a few new faces in the crowd this year, let’s see,” Professor Reeves’ dark eyes scanned the class once again; eyes connecting with your own. You felt a chill run down your spine as the swarm of dormant butterflies in your tummy rushed to life.

“What’s your name, breaktaking?” You felt your stomach drop as the teacher gestured towards you. A nervous snort escaped your throat and you felt your cheeks gain heat like a house on fire. You could perform in front of hundreds of people; yet the single attention of this one man was eating you alive.

“it’s- it’s (Y/N).” You nervously chuckled in response. The eyes of your classmates didn’t help the heat retaining in your cheeks. June gently patting your back snapped you back to reality and you looked in her direction. She gave you a reassuring nod, humoring the teacher still.

“And what compelled you to pursue acting, (Y/N).” Your name rolling off of Professor Reeves’ tongue made the butterflies excite even more and you cleared your throat in an attempt to brush off some embarrassment.

“Um, well, I’m not exactly new to acting and drama. I’ve been doing this medium since I was seven. After highschool I even performed in New York for a bit, but um, just small shows.” You answered with a shrug, keeping focused on the teacher. The stares from the other students were burning into your skull, but you ignored them.

“So, what’re you doing at Tulip Ridge then?” The teacher pushed, his dark eyes gleaming into your own. He leaned forwards on the podium a little, his attention still burning at you. You sat up in your seat slightly, not really wanting to admit to a room full of strangers that you feel like a loser and deadbeat and are only here because your parents convinced you.

“Well, I-” You paused, “I want to further my education, that’s reason enough. Plus, there’s no better place to start than community college.” Typical answer, but it hides the truth enough, you guess. Professor Reeves’ stare indicated he knew you were hiding something. You kept eye contact long enough before another student spoke up breaking the stare.

The abrupt bell ringing interrupted the movie that was playing on the projector screen. The class erupted as everyone began to gather their things and shuffle out for the day. Shortly after all the new and old students had been introduced, the Professor had quickly jumped into the curriculum for the semester. He went over the syllabus as well as the first project you’d be doing in the class; which is to perform a quick, no longer than three minute, scene from your movie of choice. It has to consist of at least two characters and be school appropriate, obviously. Of course you and your new table mate decided to partner up for the project with high hopes of good scores.

Speaking of the enthusiastic woman, you and June had talked throughout class slowly learning about the other. You discovered that she is thirty-one, works part-time in a bakery and has a four year old son. She isn’t married, but her and her son’s father are on good co-parenting terms. She’s been going to Tulip Ridge for one year now, making this her final year before she moves on to a four year college. She decided to go back to school after her and her son’s father split, leaving her with half an income but a full child to feed.

“Where are you headed after this?” June asked, tossing her long hair over her shoulder and grabbing her backpack.

“Back home, I’m sure my mom will want me to do some chores for her. I’ll research a scene for us and send you a link, as well. How about you?” You smiled at the woman. Being only a couple years younger than June felt nice, as most of your class as previously mentioned is overenthusiastic teenagers.

“You have got to move out, Sugar.” June laughed with a shake of her head. “I’m going to pick up my kid from daycare and spend a few hours with him before work tonight.” You could tell the woman loved her child a lot. Her voice and demeanor always softened at the mention of him. It almost made you feel the rush to be a mother; but you’re still young.

“Trust me, I know.” You responded with a chuckle. Shortly after, June said her goodbyes and excused herself. As she exited with the main crowd, only a few stragglers remained including you. You scanned the room, greeting the sight of Professor Reeves standing by the door saying his goodbyes to the students. You scanned him up and down now, actually being able to see his bottom half.

He was attractive, there was no doubt about that. The man was goofy too, as you’d expect a Drama teacher to act. During class you asked June if she knew anything about him and she actually gave you a quick rundown. Apparently he used to be a famous Hollywood star back in the mid-eighties to nineties. He did quite a few indie films, and one or two blockbusters. He fell off the radar in the year two-thousand after his wife died; resurfacing as a teacher in your rinky-dink hometown seven years later. The catch is, nobody knows his real name; at least locally. He keeps it hidden, only going by as Professor Reeves or Mr. Reeves. The fact you’d never heard of him kind of shocked you, but it really seemed like the fame world had moved on from your teacher. Students somewhat reacted to him, if they were film buffs, but otherwise he seemed like he lived a quiet life.

Your teacher's eyesight meeting your own caused you to stop staring finally. As a hot blush covered your cheeks once again, you quickly focused back down onto your backpack acting as though you were doing things. The room now sounded mostly quiet, and the pad of the Professors shoes echoed louder to your person.

“Miss (Y/N).” The deepness of his voice gave your spine a chill. You shyly looked up, greeting your teacher. Up close he was stunning. Gorgeous dark hair framed his face and dark full eyebrows covered his fierce brown eyes. You, however, were loving his salt and pepper speckled beard.

“Professor Reeves.” You greeted back, swallowing the intimidation. The man towered over your smaller frame, you couldn’t help but want to climb him like a tree (it’s been seven months since you last got laid. Things have gotten heated).

“It’s always refreshing to see new students.” He gave you a small grin. “You said you’ve done shows in New York? What’re you doing back here, superstar?” The man joked. The familiar hot feeling flooded your cheeks and you released a nervous chuckle, quickly casting your eyes to your shoes.

“Well- Like I said earlier: to further my education.” You managed, gathering the courage to make eye contact again. “I could ask you the same. You were a blockbuster star.” When your eyes met, butterflies erupt in your stomach again. What was it about this man that made you so horny and shy at the same time. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was saying touche.

“Well, I’d love to see your work some time.” The deep tone in his voice gave you another shiver down your spine as you kept the eye contact.

“I’d love to see yours. And, uh, then I’ll see if I have a copy somewhere. I did Phantom back in New York. Well, I was ensemble, but…” You trailed off, chuckling to cover the nervous feeling.

“Ensemble is the backbone of theater, darling.” Professor Reeves’ hand gently tapped your arm after his comment. You felt the shock of his touch and immediately made eye contact as you did so. The man must’ve felt the same, as his eyes shot to yours as well.

“I-I’d better get going.” You spoke so quietly, quickly shuffling past your teacher. However, you felt his hand linger as you pulled away. You felt as each individual finger dragged against your body before you were out of reach. That’s definitely going to help some tension releasing activities tonight.

It’s been three weeks since the first day and college isn’t too bad, you’ve come to discover. Befriending June was a good option, as you two easily got along being similar in age. You even met her son the other day after school. Plus, your classes are simple too; only taking Art and English credits was a smart decision. Drama had quickly taken place as your favorite class, however. Acting was fun, but your Professor also had taken part in your sway on the choice.

“Alright, we’re going to be doing the quick-minute scenes today, I hope you all came prepared.” The drama teacher's voice settled the rowdy crowd of students as he walked into the room. June slunk back into the chair next to you and you glanced towards the woman. She didn’t have as much performance history as you, she’d mentioned at one of your practices that she was nervous for today. You leaned over and gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder.

“Run over the lines again, it’s gonna be great.” You smiled gently. The woman pulled out the sheet you’d been using to run lines and you saw as she began to mouth the words.

Looking back towards the front of the room, you caught your teacher's eyes. He stood up by the podium, a student clearly trying to converse with him although his eyes seemed fixated towards you. Realizing you were staring in return, he quickly turned his attention back towards the student, consciously adjusting the way he was standing. You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing the smile that dared to take over and quickly cast your eyes towards the desk again.

The professor quickly got the class into order, quieting everybody down. He stood behind the stand, now facing everybody as they adjusted into their seats. The man shuffled a few papers around before looking back up and tucking some hair behind his ear. You sighed quietly, slinking further into your chair and crossing your legs. Your crush was only getting worse.

“So, before I start calling names, who’d like to present first.” Professor Reeves made a point to look directly at you. You raised your brow, shaking your head ‘No’ slowly. June would die if you two went first anyways. His eyes then moved on, looking at the other groups of students before he clicked his teeth and shrugged, choosing one of the fresh-from-highschool kids.

The kid sighed loudly, tapping his partner on the shoulder and standing up. Professor Reeves pushed the podium out of the way and to the side so the students could stand front and center.The two of them introduced themselves as Travis and Mike before jumping into it. As they started, you easily recognized the scene to be from the third Lord of The Rings installment, when Gandalf gives Pippin the speech about death.

June’s phone sitting on your table vibrated and she quickly picked it up to avoid any more distraction. You glanced over to her, watching her read the text and her expression turn more sour with each word. Furrowing your brow, you scooted your chair closer and quietly whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

The woman didn’t answer right away, instead you could see as her eyes reread the text before she finally seemed to snap to reality.

“M-My son got into trouble at daycare- I need to go. I can’t perform our presentation today.” She seemed annoyed by this but started to collect her things. I guess it was the last class of the day anyways, and you’re sure you can convince Professor Reeves to extend your scene to tomorrow.

“That’s okay. We’ll figure it out, go.” You gave her a reassuring nod and she smiled back. After gathering her things and waiting for the current group to finish, she stood up and quietly made her way to your teacher, asking to be excused. The man seemed to comply as she thanked him and quickly turned to leave, giving you a small wave and smile on the way out the door. You let your smile linger before a quiet sigh escaped.

Class proceeded normally. A few groups went before the Professor ended up calling your name. He clearly saw your partner leave, so what is he planning?

“(Y/N), why don’t you give your presentation?” His deep voice always had some sway over you. But you resisted, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Uh, my partner had an emergency and left.” You spoke, furrowing your brow. Your teacher nodded, acting as though it was new information in front of the class before he looked back at you.

“Well, maybe I can be your partner today. What were you going to perform?” The coy expression that covered his face said all it needed to. You felt the mock anger that covered the romantic feelings you felt made itself present and you let out a sigh before answering.

“Alright, well, we were going to perform an excerpt from ‘Moulin Rouge’, um, right before they burst into ‘Silly Love Songs’. I have a copy of our lines if you want.” As you spoke, you’d already gathered your copy of the sheet and made your way to the front. Ignoring the stares of your classmates was the best way to deal with your nerves, even though their eyes were burning into you like you were a demon and they were holy water. You were about to perform with your teacher, and that needed all of your focus currently. Handing over the sheet, your fingers brushed and an electric feeling coursed through your body starting from your fingertips. It gave a jolt to your heart, stuttering your breath for a moment.

“Um, June was a bit scared to do the minor singing part, so I’ll be playing Christian and you’ll be Satine.” You spoke, first looking towards the Profesor then glancing across the class. A few muttered laughs came from the immature minds humoring at the gender switch. The man let out a low chuckle himself but nodded, holding up the sheet so he could read the lines.

“Christian, I’m a courtesan. I’m paid to make men believe what they want to believe.” Your teacher began, his eyes cast between your reaction and the paper. You quickly got into character, prepared to react.

“Yes. Silly of me, to think y-you could fall in love with someone like me.” You spoke with a sigh, feigning to be sad.

“I can’t fall in love with anyone.” The man responded with a sad chuckle, stepping closer towards your figure. You felt your heartbeat raise slightly.

“Can’t fall in love? But a life without love… That’s terrible!” You lightly exclaimed, leaning into the character more. You and June chose the movie having seen it as young girls and loving the romance of it all. Of course you ended up doing a romantic scene with Professor Reeves.

“No!” The man reacted, “Being on the street, that’s terrible.” His tone suggested he was getting defensive just as Nicole Kidman did playing the line.

“No, love is like oxygen!” You reacted again, stepping towards the man. As you got further into the scene, your nerves began melting away. The second hand feeling that came when you did act was starting to kick in. It's been a while since you last did a show, since you left New York two years ago.

“What?” He spoke, furrowing his brow. You started pacing towards him more.

“Love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!” By now, you were in his face, arms spread with determination; just like you’d practiced with June.

“Please, don’t start that again.” Professor Reeves sighed, his hand placing itself on your shoulder and lightly pushing away.

“All you need is love,” You began singing softly, leaning closer to him.

“A girl has got to eat!” He exclaimed, taking a step away.

“All you need is love,” You sang again, a smile overtaking your face. Your teacher stepped back, turning away from you, really leaning into the character. You assumed he’s seen this move before by how well he was acting.

“She’ll end up on the street!” He spoke again, turning to face you again. You got up close again, capturing his hand into your own, your faces positioning closer than they should be.

“All you need is love…” You sang softly to finish off your lines, eyes connecting with your teachers. You hadn't noticed the slight wrinkle around them until now, and couldn't help the endearment that rushed your body.

“Love is just a game.” The professor didn’t sing the part like in the movie; instead he spoke it, but the emotion that line carried still was present. You were getting swept away in the intensity of the scene. His dark brown eyes stared back into your own, hinting his own feelings of lust and want. The sound of someone's chair scraping brought you back to reality and you quickly stepped away to a normal distance. Clearing your throat, you turned towards your classmates and took a quick bow before making your way back towards your table. The burning stare of your teacher's eyes into your back definitely didn’t help.

“Good job (Y/N). I’ll go ahead and give June the credit too.” Professor Reeves spoke as soon as you sat down after the class had finished clapping. You nodded towards him, trying to catch your breath from the whole situation. You wish June were here to witness that, though. She wouldn’t believe it, and to be honest, you could barely believe it either.

The library was surprisingly empty for prime studying hours, then again, it is a Friday afternoon. Most students are probably drunk right now, pregaming for the weekend, anyways. You, however, decided to study for some test in English at the library instead of going home. You didn’t really want to deal with your parents anyways. Ever since you started school, they’ve been more helicopter-y and won’t leave you alone when you’re home. They want to know everything and it’s exhausting. You honestly miss living alone. Your parents are treating you like you’re in high school again, over eleven years ago. No matter, it was nice to escape the insanity with the quiet, always warm because of the broken heater, library.

Plus, the escapism helps with distracting your brain from a certain someone. Ever since your presentation in Drama with Professor Reeves about three and a half weeks ago, you’ve been kind of avoiding him. That happening did nothing to help your crush, in fact it only made it worse. He is so handsome and you just can’t help it. His dark, lengthy hair that he often tucked behind his ear; His dark, fierce and sultry eyes that lured you in every time you caught stares. You, without a doubt, are smitten for a man whose not only an authority-ish figure in your life, but twice your age.

The acting exercises you did in class were not helpful either. You noticed he’d minorly started favoring you to play roles. Of course the students hadn’t caught on yet because he hid his favoritism so well, but you just went along with it. Secretly, you kind of wanted to see how this would play out. It’s been nearly two months since the semester started, and the spark you seemed to have acquired hasn’t fizzled.

“Miss (Y/N)? Not partying?” Professor Reeves spoke behind you. Jumping slightly, you sat up and turned around to look at the man. You already saw him in class today, well, avoided him in class today. This is like a waking nightmare to see him in a safe space. Hiding your feelings, you swallowed before answering. The look on his face was innocent, but you never know what feelings he could be hiding too.

“You scared me,” You commented before continuing, “And, uh, no. It’s not really my scene anymore.” You muttered with a chuckle, turning back towards the table. The echoed footsteps from your teacher indicated he was going to take a seat at the table you currently occupied. Sitting up, you glanced around the library as he did so, but came across nobody.

“Anymore? You look quite young.” He spoke, setting a few books down that he’d had in his grasp. You didn’t notice them before.

“I’m almost thirty, I’m not young.” You commented with a dry chuckle, finally gathering the courage to look at your teacher. He gave you a laugh, prompting you to let a smile break.

“Well, I’m in my mid-fifties so what does that say about how old I am?” He rebuttaled with humor lacing his tone. You finally broke the resistant act and chuckled, looking towards him. He gave you a soft smile in return, enjoying seeing you filled with humor. The man didn’t want to admit that he also had developed some type of emotion for you as well. Since the moment you introduced yourself he knew you were going to be an issue. Not necessarily a bad thing, just a hindrance. He’s seen a lot of students come and go over the years he’s been teaching, but you’re the first one that’s captivated his eye, ever.

“Right, sorry.” You laughed, looking back towards the notes you’d been writing on. The two of you fell into a silence before your teacher spoke up.

“Hey, are you okay? It seems as though you’ve been avoiding me... If I’m overstepping as your teacher let me know-” The deep voice of your teacher has gone quiet, you knew he wanted to keep this private.

“No- No… You’re right.” You cut him off, sighing and rubbing your temple quietly. “I, uh, I have been.” The silence of your teacher caused you to look up at him. It was kind of strange to be having such a candid conversation with this man, though he’s just like any other human on earth.

“Well, may I ask why?” He asked quietly, almost sounding hurt from your choices. You nodded hesitantly before proceeding. Were you about to admit your feelings? Can you even do that? Is it even legal for faculty and students to date? Well, that is if you even date.

“Ever since our... well my presentation… There's been this weird energy between us and I honestly don't know how to react.” Your voice remained quiet as you spoke and your eyes kept pointed towards the table. Though, you could feel Professor Reeves’ eyes boring into the side of your face.

“(Y/N)...” The voice of your teacher caught your attention and you looked up. His eyes glanced around the room before he stood up in one quick motion. The towering height of the man was slightly intimidating, however he leaned over swiftly, capturing your face with both of his hands and connecting your lips.

Fireworks. Explosions. Electricity.

These were all the words you could use to describe the way his lips melded perfectly with your own. His stubble scratched your chin and upper lip so wonderfully and his hands help your face gently.

The man was the first to break the kiss, as you could've stayed there forever. He parted and stayed only an inch or two away from your face, however.

“Wow,” You softly breathed, feeling your body physically relax. A slight giggle escaped your throat as you did so. The man smiled back, gleeful from the event that just occurred.

“I've been wanting to do that since the first day.” He spoke hushedly. You captured his lips once again before quickly shoving your things into your backpack. If things were going to escalate, there was no better time. You cast your eyes up to his, staring through your lashes hinting at the lust you were feeling.

“The drama room, now.” You rushed, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You felt your teacher's body heat behind your figure as the two of you quickly, but trying their best to remain inconspicuous, made your way across campus to the Arts building.

Your teacher shoved open the door, his hand hooking onto your backpack and pulling you in. He swiftly shoved the door closed and locked it shut, making sure it was actually locked. You quickly rushed towards an old prop couch in the back corner of the room, tossing your bag and jacket off. You heard your teacher's footsteps quickly follow and the heat of his hands as he grabbed your arm, flipping you around and shoving you back onto the couch. You grabbed his jacket, pulling him down on top of your figure as you fell. Your bodies felt electric causing your heart to beat faster.

His eyes glanced down at your chest gazing delightfully at your cleavage. It only gave you confidence as you tangled your fingers into his dark locks, pulling your lips together. His hands then moved and melded firm on your ass, as he didn’t want you to get away. The scratch of his beard only added pain to the pleasure, enhancing the overall experience. Your hands found their way to Professor Reeves’ jeans; slyly unbuckling his belt and with one motion undoing his button as well. Your hand began to explore, finding his member semi hard and still tucked away behind his underwear. You gently began to rub over the cloth, prompting the man to moan quietly into your kiss.

In the meantime, the man's hands found their way to the zipper of your pants, he’d managed to unzip it entirely and then shifted his hands to unclip your bra through your top. You broke the kiss while he sat up slightly and pulled the apparel off, freeing your legs and top, leaving you in panties and a bra.

“Jesus, you are… breathtaking.” He muttered, eyes scanning your figure up and down. You felt the self-conscious feelings start to fill your brain and subconsciously hid your figure. Professor Reeves’ large hands grasped your arm, however, and kept you from hiding your gorgeous body.

The man’s mouth was swift to latch onto the swell of your breast, intending to mark the flesh. His fingers gently latched onto your bra, exposing your breast more. He gently kissed down the skin before his tongue swirled your nipple, occasionally flicking it with the muscle. The sensation only fueled your fire down south, and you quickly gathered the courage to gently slide your hands underneath his underwear. Your hand first met the feeling of pubes as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, beginning to pump slowly.

Professor Reeves carefully maneuvered his shirt off his body, tossing it somewhere in the classroom. You admired his body; he was slightly toned on his chest, however his shoulders and arms were more defined. He donned a small patch of chest hair, and a dark happy trail that led to a nice patch of dark pubic hair. His hair was messy, and he combed his fingers through, desperate to remove the strands from his eyes.

The man now stood up on his knees, quickly shucking off his pants and underwear leaving him completely nude. After that, You took the moment to ogle him and come to the reality that you're about to sleep with your teacher. This is a good idea, yeah?

Professor Reeves linked his fingers into the sides of your panties, gliding them down and off your legs all while staring at you through his lashes and fallen hair. Afterwards, his fingers gently made their way to your heat, fingers toying and exploring, eyes gazing you up and down. He bit his lip, as a single digit ran up your slit, hitting your clit at the end of it’s journey. You squirmed and gasped at the sudden sensation, earning a whisper of praise from your teacher. He redid the motion, this time with two fingers. You reacted the same, a squeal and squirm, gripping your hand onto his thigh.

“Darling, so wet for me already.” He commented, voice heavy. “How would you feel I…” He trailed off, slinking down and scooting back until his head came level with your stomach. With the last word escaping his lips, he kissed around your navel, working his way further and further down until a light kiss peppered your clit. Your hands flew to the man's head immediately tangling themselves within his long hair. He took this as an eager invitation, and began to suck your clit with excitement. One of his free hands worked its way up and began to twist your nipple gently. The sensitivity of your body caused you to moan and tighten your grip on the man's hair. His free hand left your nipple and moved down to your vagina. He continued to lick and flick your clit with his tongue as he slowly inserted a single digit. You tightened around his finger, enjoying the feeling of it all as he began to finger you carefully.

“Oh, Professor,” A breathy moan left your lips. The man’s reaction was to finger you faster while he sucked your clit harder. His beard rubbing against your inner thigh felt so wonderful, and you nearly suffocated the man between your legs. The teacher began to move his fingers skillfully. He kept tapping your g-spot as he did so, earning even louder cries of pleasure from you. He could tell you were getting close, as you kept tightening around his fingers and were basically giving him a head massage. He gently pulled them out, and gave one last sweet kiss to your clit before sitting up on his knees again. His dick was now fully hard and he nonchalantly touched himself, scooting closer to your position.

You sat up a little, reaching out to grab his member. Your hand replaced his and you switched positions once again, landing you on top. You moved your hair from your face and leaned your head down so your lips were just above his cock. You gently licked the tip, earning a shudder from the teacher. One of your hands gently rubbed your clit while the other held you up as you sucked the bass player off. Your tongue swirled around his member and you bobbed your head, making sure to keep your mouth as airtight as possible. He kept releasing delightful moans, occasionally letting his hand hold your head or fix your hair. He even used it to guide your bobs, keeping you on beat.

“Oh, love,” The man breathed. You cast your gaze up to his face, making sure to stay within rhythm. His eyes were turned dark from lust as he watched your pretty mouth circle his cock. You then stopped playing with yourself and used that hand to rub him while sucking. His moans only increased and became more frequent with each nod. You finally popped off, finishing with a few kisses around his navel. You wiped the corners of your mouth with a slight grin, sitting back on your knees. The man was only harder now, periodically causing his member to twitch from need. You lazily jerked him with one of your hands as you straddled his lap again, placing you into the cowgirl position. You lined yourself up with him, your entrance just barely touching his tip.

Professor Reeves gently placed his hands onto your hips, guiding you down onto his cock. You instantly moaned; his hard member filled you so perfectly as you sat down on him, giving you the warm feeling deep in your stomach. The man’s hand stayed firm on your hips as he began to help you bounce up and down on his dick. He even began to thrust up, only resulting in his member going deeper and harder in you.

Each ram seemed to make his hard cock find your g-spot perfectly. Your stomach kept twisting with every thrust, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. The teacher kept averting his gaze between your face and breasts while you fucked, enjoying the bounce of your figure. When you were able to, you would look into his eyes showing you how much you were enjoying him.

Professor Reeves surprised you by wrapping his arms tightly around your bum, trapping his cock in your pussy as he lifted and laid you on your back again. He then began to thrust more rapid than you'd ever been handled before. Slaps of sweaty skin echoed around the room but you didn’t care at all in the throes of pleasure. You moaned loudly, the Professor as well, only fueling both of your satisfaction. One of his hands found its way to your clit and he began to rub with his thumb. Swirling sensations began to fill your tummy, prompting louder moans. The deep warm feeling before orgasm began to fill each of your limbs.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You moaned, opening your eyes long enough to see your teacher's reaction.

“Darling, cum for me.” He raised his eyebrows in bliss, immediately rubbing your clit faster and harder. In response you tightened around his cock as he thrust, causing the man to close his eyes in pleasure. The pressure was building fast and before you knew it, an orgasm overtook your entire body. You wrapped your legs around the man's back, trapping him deep within you. He let out a pleasure filled gasp as his thrusts became staggard. You could feel his cock throbbing in you as he collapsed and lay with his head snug in your neck. You both lay still, but breathed heavily trying to recover from the incredible orgasm you both just experienced.

Professor Reeves slowly sat up and pulled himself out of you, wincing from how sensitive he was. You felt his hot cum slowly drip out of your pussy, but you didn’t care. The man groaned as he laid down next to you, now both of you laying on the couch, you tucked into his side.

“That was everything I imagined it to be.” The Professor commented after a few moments of silence. You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you turned on your side to face the dark haired man.

“I don't even know your name, Professor. You’d think I would've figured it out by now…” You trailed off, studying the man’s face. His eyes caught yours and he let out a short chuckle.

“I keep it hidden… for reasons.” He trailed off, mindlessly playing with a section of your hair.

“June told me you used to be a Hollywood actor. I never did a google deep dive to respect your past and, well, you. I wanted to ask you about it instead.” You cast your eyes towards his chest and mindlessly drew shapes with your fingers.

“It’s Keanu.” His voice was quiet, scanning your face for a reaction. You gave him a soft grin, looking up to meet his gaze.

“That’s a beautiful name.” You spoke in a whisper. He kissed the top of your head as a response, holding your figure tighter. It felt nice to be held by someone again. Keanu was the perfect man for that. Ever since the first day of class he’s made you feel safe. Most encounters with men haven't been pleasant, especially as a female actress.

“So, when are you going to show me the tapes of your shows?” Your teacher's deep voice gave you goosebumps, and you let out a short chuckle, sitting up and reaching for your bra. In the odd chance anyone was the show up, you wanted to be dressed.

“When you show me your movies.” You responded cheekily, eyes turning to give the man a wink. He let out a laugh as his large hand landed on your still exposed back, rubbing gently and avoiding your bra straps.

“I remember a certain lady telling me she started in and has a copy of Phantom, and it was mine.” He smirked, sitting up as well and pulling his clothing back on. You shook your head, laughter leaving your lips.

“How about this, over the course of the semester we…” You paused, eyeing the tall man up and down, “Keep whatever this is going on.” You paused for effect, “And once in a while we’ll watch one of our shows. Deal?” It appeared as though Keanu was thinking for a few moments before he answered.

“Deal.”

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