#i have a mock exam in the afternoon and my final exam starts a week later but i just know that this will still be the bestest day ever <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aweecrush · 2 years

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FOUR MONTHS, or what happens between President Clinton's visit to Derry on November 30th, 1995 and Erin and Orla's isolation tape recorded on March 30th, 1996.

Part 1 here

January 8th, 1996

Of course she’d get sick the very first school day of the year. Of course.

Not that she would have particularly minded in other circumstances: she’s not an eejit, she won't turn away a couple of days of doing nothing and everyone fussing over her when it comes her way. Plus, Granda always makes his special hot chocolate when one of them is sick, and Christ if that isn’t the best thing she ever tasted.

But the thing is, she’s been sick sick, headaches and nausea and sore throat and all, and it’s been days, and she’s - well, sick of it. It doesn’t help that Anna’s been sick as well, which means that not only is no one available to bring special attention to her through the whole ordeal, but Mammy’s unhinged like - for real. So far, her shouts have done nothing to improve Erin’s state.

The worst of it has passed now, but she still feels kind of hazy and needs to sleep every two hours, so she’s not allowed to go back to school just yet. Again, that wouldn’t have particularly broken her heart, but teachers are always out of their minds at the beginning of the new year, full of motivation and good resolutions, and this time around, with the mock exams in addition to that? Clare must be rubbing out on her, because the thought of this, and the idea of having so much to catch up on when she gets back stresses her out.

Plus, she misses the girls. At the exception of Orla, nobody’s been allowed past the door yet.

1996 is off to such a good start.

The day has been mostly quiet: Granda spent an hour criticizing Da’s drive skills, but Anna’s been crying a little less, and Erin has managed a good three hours downstairs with everyone before the headache starts. She’s been alternating between reading her Christmas gift and nodding off ever since.

It’s well into the afternoon when someone knocks at her bedroom door.

“What are you doing here?” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth as James pops his head in, all smiles and wild curls.

She’s so surprised, her stomach does a somersault inside.

“Well, hello to you too, Erin - I see bedrest has done wonders for your manners,” and she chuckles with him as he easily catches the pillow she throws at him.

“How did you get in here? I thought Mammy was watching the door like a prison warden.”

“She did kick us out in less than five words and five seconds both times we tried last week,” he confesses, his face a mix of amusement and sorry about that. “So, I tried a different approach today.”

She raises a curious eyebrow.

“James Maguire, did ye finally find a way to bribe my Ma? Because a lot of people would pay for this secret - the inhabitants of this house very much included.” He laughs, and Erin realizes that she’s missed that sound.

“Not yet, no. But I did mention that you needed your homework if you didn’t want to get behind.”

“But Orla’s been bringing it to me.”

His face twists a little in embarrassment. “Yes, that’s what your mum said.” Then, something like pride twinkles in his eyes. ”So, I told her we really needed to start our homework sessions, because the teachers already gave us so much to do, and you know, exams are coming - real soon, too.”

“Our - what?”

He smirks. “Come on Erin, you remember: the sessions you and I said we’d start this year - you helping me with my English, me with your math?”

Shaking her head at the cheeky attitude that’s starting to radiate through his every pore, Erin tries and fails to contain her smile.“I can’t believe Mammy bought that.”

“Of course she did - I’m an excellent liar.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, well, a good enough one. Although I did tell her that you weren’t contagious anymore at this point - which is true, I looked it up - so I think that helped, too. Also I think her show had started, so I’m pretty sure she would have agreed to anything to stop me from talking and go back to the TV.”

Dopey grin very much still on, James takes off his jacket, and throws himself next to her on the bed. “Alright - you’ll never guess what Jenny did this morning.”

January 14th, 1996

To her right, Clare’s great uncle’s loud snores rise again, each one even more impressive than the other. Not that she can blame him, really: Christ but that movie is bad. She’s not even sure she gets it. Well, at least she hopes she doesn’t, because otherwise, that means that this man just married his own sister, which really -

“Damn, that movie really is shit, isn’t it?”

She rolls her head to see James’ standing in the doorway, eyes focused on the TV and corridor’s lights shedding pretty shadows on his face. When his eyes meet hers, he chuckles, then gestures towards her TV partner.

“Your new friend seems to be enjoying it, though.” She snorts.

“He was way smarter than me on that one - there’s things I won’t be able to unsee. Ever,” and that earns her another chuckle.

He keeps his eyes on hers a little after, and Erin just looks back at the screen, trying her best to swallow the lump coming back in her throat, and focus on the God awful story instead.

It’s not that easy, but she keeps trying anyway.

After a moment, she feels more than sees him close the distance and sit down next to her on the floor, back against the sofa. He copies her and lets his head fall back on the cushion, and she can feel his thigh pressed up against hers.

It feels better, then. A little less…

Just less.

He doesn’t say anything, not for a long while. It’s only after they watch the fire destroy the whole family mansion in an unexpected and excruciating twist that she eventually speaks.

“It’s okay James - you can go back to the party, you don’t have to sit with me.” She wants him to, though. He’s warm - he’s always so warm. “I’m fine.”

Again, Erin feels more than sees him shrug. “I want to. I mean, for one, I can’t possibly miss the end of this masterpiece,” he points at the TV, and she smiles. There’s a little pause before he finishes, his tone a little different. “Plus, she was really pissing me off too, actually, so please don’t make me go back there.” She chuckles a little, even though it hurts again.

A couple of minutes pass, and Erin tries her best to focus on the images in front of her. This time, he’s the one who breaks the silence. “She was really out of line, you know - Clare’s still telling her off, actually.”

She knows he’s being nice, but she really wishes he’d stop. She can feel her bottom lip shaking again, and she just - she just wants to watch this stupid movie, and forget the whole thing. Forget everything, really - she just wants some quiet.

When she feels the slightest brush of his hand against hers, she doesn’t know if she’s more mad at him for staying and seeing her like that, or relieved that he won’t leave her alone. Not for the first time that night, tears start rolling down her cheeks.

Feck.

“She was wrong, Erin - don’t listen to her.” She snorts, drying her face with the arm that’s not touching his. “She was.” He sounds really mad now. James’ doesn’t get mad, not like this.

Finally turning her head to look back at him, she finds his green, dark eyes already looking at her.

He was the one that first told Michelle to shut it. She’d told him off, of course, but he’d insisted, and Clare had backed him up. It had started calmly enough, though.

Nothing had even started, in fact - not really. It was just another night of studying at her house during which Michelle, inevitably bored, inevitably started telling them about that new fella she was seeing. Of course, it had gotten really graphic, really fast, Orla’s eyebrows furrowing even further with each word as Clare started to look green. At one point, Erin eventually told her to cut it out.

The shift of Michelle’s attention from her story to her personal case hadn’t been a welcomed one.

“I’m serious, Erin - you’ve got to get on with it,” she’d said. “It’s the new year: make that your number one resolution or something, because we’re dangerously approaching tragedy at this point.”

She didn’t know why it didn’t end there like it usually did, but it didn’t: she’d kept going on and all night long, and then again on the bus Friday morning, relentless about the fact that it was damn time Erin got herself a lad, or even a random fella to at least snog, because it was just inacceptable that at her age, she still didn’t have any move - or the slightest experience whatsoever, as she so gently put it.

(Ach, as if she didn’t already know that. As if she wasn’t aware of how pathetic she looked, most likely to all of Derry - as if that wasn’t exactly what had relentlessly run through her mind as she waited for John Paul to show up, all dolled up in that stupid dress.

No boy had even looked at her.)

“For the love of Christ, leave her alone, Michelle!,” James had all but growled this morning as his cousin kept going.

“Yes - and Erin, don’t listen to her. Why are you even teasing her and not us, anyway? I’ve never had a kiss or a date - neither did Orla.”

“Yes, but Orla’s Orla - ”

“Do ye think birds sleep?”

“- and you’re a lesbian, Clare: much more complicated for you. She, however, has no excuse.”

Erin had left the room and headed to the bathroom then, trying to convince herself that Michelle’s words didn’t bug her this much. That they didn’t hit right where it hurt, and that she didn’t feel like shite.

She does.

And now here she is, watching TV with a sleeping seventy year-old man on a Saturday instead of knacking some drinks and enjoying Clare’s family party as they’d planned, feeling like her tears might fall at any moment, the last of Michelle’s jabs delivered an hour ago a little too hurtful to pretend like everything’s okay.

“Hey.”

His voice brings her back to reality, and she looks back at him and the small, gentle smile he has on his face. “Forget it, okay? You’re great, Erin. Any boy would be lucky to have you.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, as Michelle so pertinently pointed out, they’re not exactly lining up, are they.”

“You mean in our all girl Catholic school?”

She gives him what’s meant to be a half amused, half reprimanding look at that, but he’s not laughing. Quite the contrary, actually.

“I mean it, Erin. I don’t know when it will happen, if it’ll be here, or in college, but - I do know that you’ll find someone that you actually like soon, someone who actually realizes what he has instead of pricks like David Donnelly and John Paul.”

It’s so strange, seeing him this worked up. But his face softens then, and somehow, it helps the knots in her stomach unfold a little.

He bumps her shoulder a little, and she answers his smile. “And until then, you shouldn’t rush into kissing or dating the first fella who comes around just because my brainless cousin has decided there’s a deadline for stuff like that - believe me.”

“Regretting Katya then?”

As predicted, he groans with a roll of his eyes dramatic enough to put her to shame, and despite the tears still in her eyes, Erin laughs.

“Every chance you get, huh? Well, believe it or not, Katya was actually not my first kiss.” She - Oh.

He grins. “Yeah.” Then, his wee face is back to soft again, and he hesitates a little before meeting her eyes again. When he does, his are laughing, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. “I’m glad you stopped me that night though. You were right.”

“About the fact that she was mental?”

He shakes his head, amused, and his curls go all bouncy. “No, about the fact that it’s better to wait - do it with someone you care about. I’m glad I did.”

Aye. Well, she’s glad to - Katya really was mental.

Her tummy feels a bit weird, but then James’ getting up and extending his hand to help her do the same.

“Come on: my aunt and uncle aren’t home tonight, let’s go watch a real movie.”

“What about the girls?”

“Well, Orla’s very busy enjoying the chocolate fountain yet again, Michelle is getting drunk and flirting with Clare’s second cousin, and Clare herself is actually talking to her very interested looking neighbor.”

Erin grins. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry, they won’t miss us.”

And so she wraps her fingers around his, and, grabbing their jackets on their way, Erin follows him out.

They’re barely out the door and still laughing at the way a very inebriated Mrs Devlin nearly fell on them when a voice raises behind them on the street.

“James, is that you?”

They both turn to see a girl about their age walk towards them, a box in her hand and her grinning face illuminated by the outside lights of the houses.

She’s pretty - really pretty.

“Oh my God, it is you!”

Erin turns to him just in time to see recognition materialize on his face. “Emily! Right, of course - what the hell are you doing here?”

They talk for a couple of minutes, both surprised at what Erin admits to be a pretty crazy coincidence. When they part, Emily’s nice smile still glowing, James quickly explains a bit more when he knows her from (school, kind of) - and then, inevitably and passionately starts listing their film options for the night.

Aye, but that boy loves his movies.

January 18th, 1996

They get detention again.

Of course, her Ma blows it all out of proportion and makes it into a big thing, when really, it isn’t their fault. Well, not completely, anyway. As a consequence, her and Orla see their chores multiply by two for a month, but at least they don’t get their TV privileges revoked like Michelle and James. Clare’s banned from hanging out with them for two weeks all together.

Other than that, though, things are good. Jenny has a new fringe and it looks awful, which doesn’t waste anything. Even her grades are going up, which she doesn’t see coming - not that fast, anyway. James’ a great teacher though - much, much better than Sister Philips (when he explains it, math actually makes sense, which is really new to her). He’s been helping her with physics, too, and if he wasn’t Ma’s favorite before (he definitely was), that would have done the trick.

“Is the wee English fella not having tea with us tonight?” Granda asks as Erin pulls up her chair and sits.

“He couldn’t make it for tutoring tonight Granda. He’ll be coming tomorrow instead - he asked if that was okay.”

“Of course it is: you know he’s welcome any day, love.”

“Aye, he’s a good kid so he is.” Erin smiles. She likes that they all like him so much.

As she takes the potatoes from Orla, she feels a bit weird about him not being here, too. It really is nice, having him over.

Before she can linger on that thought though, her Da asks about that new song she likes, and Erin starts rambling about it with an excited smile despite the roll of her Ma’s eyes at the other side of the table.

January 24th, 1996

“Is that girl trying to ride James?”

They all turn around in one perfect, swift motion that could not have been more coordinated if they’d tried.

The pub is packed, and they have to kind of twist and raise up on their chairs and bench to see where Michelle just pointed with her beer, but sure enough, leaning against the bar, James’ laughing at something a very close, very pretty girl has apparently just said to him.

Next to Michelle, Orla tilts her head to the side. “Does James have a new friend now?”, and his cousin snickers.

“Given the way she’s pointing her tits at him Orla, I don’t think it’s her friend she wants to be.”

Erin feels like a stone drops in her stomach.

“Who is that?” Clare frowns as they all sit back. “She looks familiar.”

“Isn’t it Cilian’s sister?”

“Do ye think so?"

“Aye, I’m fairly certain it’s her, yeah. Feck it but dicko’s really on a strike these days, isn’t he,” she chuckles, downing another gulp of her beer.

“What do you mean?” The alcohol and heat make Erin’s voice a little shakier than she would have liked, but nobody seems to notice.

“Didn’t I tell you yet? Little Jamesie’s all grown up now: he got a dirty call a couple of days ago.”

He -

“What?”

It’s a good thing the pub’s so loud, or Clare’s high pitched voice would certainly have turned all heads to their tables. Not that it’s unjustified, really.

“Well, it wasn’t actually a call, since we don’t have a phone anymore and all that. And it wasn’t dirty either I suppose - but that girl definitely wants to ride him as well.”

“What happened?”

As soon as she asks the question though, Erin’s not so sure she wants the answer anymore. Michelle’s enthusiasm doesn’t leave her any time to dwell on it though - not on that, or on the way her tummy’s twisting in a sort of a painful way.

God but she had too much to drink.

Much more resistant than her, Michelle takes another sip of her beer, and smirks. “Apparently, it was a girl he knows from England that’s going to live here now I suppose - he bumped into her at your Granny’s party Clare actually. Aye Erin, you left with him that night - you saw her, right?”

Of course. The pretty girl with a nice smile.

“Um - yeah.”

“Well, as you’ve seen, and I’m shocked to even say it really, but - massive, massive ride. Anyway, that girl comes knocking at the door, and she asks for James and starts about how she asked around for his address because how crazy is it that they’re both here now, and she doesn’t have many friends yet, and she’d love to hang out with him.”

“Well, that’s charming: knocking at his door to tell him she doesn’t have anyone else to hang out with so she might as well hang out with him.” Her cheeks feel a little hot now. She’s - mad, she realizes.

But really, is that any way to talk to a fella, let alone a sweet one like him?

Michelle just waves her off, apparently not offended at all on her cousin’s behalf. “Don’t you worry about that Erin, she wants to see him alright. I’m telling you, I watched the whole thing from the kitchen, and all the signs were there: the hair flips, the eyes, the laughing - oh, and yeah, the grabbing of the arm too.”

As she says that, her eyes stare past their heads and behind them and indeed, they turn to see Cilian’s sister's hand on his forearm - and then, running up his shoulder.

“Well, I hope it works out,” Clare pipes up enthusiastically, cheeks bright pink from the alcohol and heat. “James deserves to have someone.”

“He has us.”

“You know what I mean, Erin - a girlfriend. Plus, I think it’s all quite romantic actually - the kind of meetings that make for a really nice story.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “We’re in a sweaty pub, Clare - it’s hardly romantic.”

“No, I meant the other girl - the one from England? I just think it’s lovely, finding each other again like that against all odds, far from home - kind of like destiny.”

Her burp kind of takes all the wonderful out of the picture she’s trying to paint, but it doesn't seem to bother her. “That’s definitely a meet cute. You know, the cute way the boy meets the girl in the movies?”

“Aye but it is yeah. I vote for that girl too then,” Orla chimes in.

“Well, her or that one, in either case, it’s impressive. I’m actually proud of the wee fecker - good for him. Although I am still struggling to understand it, if I’m honest. I mean, has the prick turned into a ride or something? What’s with all the attention all of the sudden?”

Again, they all turn towards the bar, Clare spilling her beer all over Erin’s lap as she tries to sip and analyze their friend from afar, head tilted to the side. “I don’t know…”

In fairness, he has.

He’d always had pretty eyes, and a beautiful smile, and then he got that haircut that made his curls even more enticing. He'd grown into his body, too, his shoulders broader, his frame just a little bit taller. The roundness of the boy has all but completely disappeared from his face now, leaving his jaw sharper, turning him into…well, into a proper lad, really.

He is a ride.

Do they really not see that?

Before any of them can argue one way or the other though, the object of their conversation spots them, eyes confused then dangerous, and they all swing back on their chairs, pretending and falling that they’d not been full-on stalking him.

Well. Most of them.

“Way to go, dicko,” Michelle all but yells, one thumb and one beer up.”Didn’t think you had it in ye!”

January 30th, 1996

It hits her on Orla's birthday.

Well, at the end of Orla’s birthday sleepover, to be precise. She doesn't know how she doesn't see it coming, but - she really doesn't.

It’s a school day, so to celebrate, their Mas at least authorize all of them to stay over at Erin’s with no bedtime (“If I hear anything about one of yous dozing off in school tomorrow, help me Jesus wains, there’ll be tears.”). It's a nice day, really: Orla has the time of her life, running all over school with her birthday girl crown on her head, and when they get home, she zooms in the small fountain of chocolate that Mammy has prepared for the occasion. Dinner is nice as well, all of them squeezed at their small table that Erin realizes is currently hosting all the people that she loves most in this world. Of course, when Michelle asks her why she’s smiling like an idiot, she can’t say - but it’s nice.

There’s the cake, the opening (ripping, really) of the gifts and then, true to their words, all the adults leave them be. In terms of taking full advantage of that special “all on their own, all night” treat though? They could have probably done better.

Much, much better.

When she wakes up, it takes Erin a minute to understand where she is. The TV is still on, the only other light coming from the hall, making it a little difficult to see at first.

It’s barely an embarrassing twelve thirty, and if the long ended credits on the screen are any indication, they’ve been snoring for at least one hour, exhausted by their day of school, the one hour long, surprisingly intense aerobics session the birthday girl insisted they do, and the tons of delicious food that had probably been the final nail in their coffins.

Sometimes, she thinks that maybe those mouths at school aren’t that wrong, when they say their band is far from being the coolest.

It was a fun night, though, and Orla was happy. That’s what matters.

Michelle’s still on Granda’s chair, legs on one side and open mouth on the other in a position that her back will surely regret in the morning. Orla’s spread like a starfish on the carpet, wrapping paper still in one hand. Clare’s on a ball at the other end of the couch, legs folded into herself. Erin’s at the other end, and, initially seated between both of them, James is now completely leaning against her, one arm around her waist and his head on her shoulder.

He looks so peaceful, when he sleeps, that slight concern mixed with doubt he always wears on his face completely gone. Beautiful, really. His lips are slightly parted, and a couple of curls fall on his forehead. Erin feels the sudden urge to brush them away, so she does.

Slowly lifting the hand that’s been resting on his arm not to wake him, she tries to move one with her finger. Smiles sleepily when it immediately drops back where it was. She remembers being so pissed at the restaurant that day, when Katya kept threading her fingers in his curls, her whole body turned towards him. She can’t really blame the girl though: they’re really, really soft.

There’s warmth in her chest, so much so that she feels like her heart is melting a little, and in her stomach, it feels like the thing that’s been twisting more and more lately wakes again. In a nice way, through. A real nice way.

Clare suddenly moves in her sleep, grumbling something she can’t quite make out, effectively sending her foot in James’ back. An annoyed frown creases his features for a second, and then he’s moving even closer to her, his face all but buried in her neck at that point.

He smells good. Comforting, safe, and just - really, really good. Her heart flutters.

And that's when it dawns on her.

Vaguely aware that she’s stopped breathing, Erin looks back at his arm around her. At him. She can feel his breath on her skin now, and it’s just -

James. Seated in the couch that has seen her grow up, the slight snore of her cousin coming from the floor, Erin realizes that she’s...falling for James.

Not falling, really. If the treacherous thing in her chest and her barely functioning mind are any indication, she’s already fallen pretty hard, pretty deep, now on the bottom of the pit looking up.

Oh. Oh.

Well.

Shite.

#derry girls #jerin #james x erin #erin x james #fanfiction

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 3 years

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A weekend in Quantico | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: You surprise Stiles and visit him in Quantico

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

After graduation, Stiles got accepted at the FBI National Academy - as he should. You were very proud of him and both happily cried together when he received his acceptance letter. He was finally going to put his investigating talents and heightened intelligence to good use.

It also meant being apart.

The first week was alright. You missed each other, but made sure to call every night.

The second week, Stiles started his program and fell asleep on the phone. He was tired from his new schedule and you couldn't blame him.

The fourth week, you started your senior year. It was lonely without Stiles. Thankfully, you had friends to sit with at lunch, but they kept talking about how cool it must be to have a boyfriend who was in college. Sadly, dating a college boy was one of those things that's only cool outside of the picture. When you're the one in the long-distance relationship, things are much less cool.

The sixth week, Stiles was calling you two times a week and you started showing up to school wearing one of his flannel button ups. It was soft and smelled like him.

The eleventh week, he told you he wouldn't make it to Thanksgiving because the buses were expensive and he had a lot of work on his hands and studying to do too. You were really bummed out by the change of plan, but understood that college came first. That night, you cried.

The twelfth week, a traitor, who you assumed was Scott, told Stiles how you really were doing - which wasn't too well - and a package showed up at your door coming from Quantico. You opened the box with a curious eyebrow and found one of Stiles' hoodies and a short but cute hand-written letter.

I'll be home for Christmas, the letter promised. Christmas was in six weeks. There was no way you would last six more weeks without seeing your boyfriend.

It was late afternoon when you arrived in Quantico. The crisp wind was filling through your jacket, causing goosebumps to raise on your arms. You should have worn something warmer. Perhaps a hat too? But it was too late for that.

Your bag was slung over your shoulder as you crossed the street and followed the indications on your phone that would lead you to the campus.

After getting lost three times, you finally made it to the building where Stiles had his last lesson of the day. You didn't dare go too close to the classrooms, scared someone would ask for your access card and kick you out.

Stiles saw you before you saw him. He was turning a corner, walking down the hallway to take the stairs and stopped in his tracks when he saw you, startled. ''What the hell.'' At first, he thought his vision was playing him tricks, but you looked back at him, confirming that he wasn't hallucinating.

You grinned, finally seeing him after weeks of being apart. ''Missed me?''

Instead of replying, Stiles closed the distance between you and him to pull you in an embrace, snaking his arms behind your shoulders as yours wrapped around him tightly. You felt him exhale in your hold, his face finding home in your neck and shoulder.

There was no better feeling than holding the one you love.

The hug was longer than it should have, being in the middle of a hallway, but neither of you cared that students were passing by.

''What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy you're here, because I'm fucking ecstatic that you're here.'' Stiles smiled down at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb as if to check if you were really there. ''It's just that I suspected my dad would be visiting this weekend. Not you.''

Noah had called Stiles last night to check on him and casually ask about his weekend plans. Clearly, he had failed at not evoking suspicions from his son.

Stiles re-adjusted his book bag on his shoulder and you looked at him up and down, taking in his dress pants, white button up and tie. It was the mandatory dress code for the FBI Academy and, honestly, it wasn't unpleasant for the eyes. You weren't into men in uniforms, but he looked hot.

You glided your fingers along the hem of his tie. ''You are looking mighty fine, Agent Stilinski.''

''I'm not an agent yet. I'm just an intern,'' Stiles reminded you. ''But, I'll take the compliment.''

The two of you walked to his dorm, which he shared with someone named Vincent - who was currently at the library.

The bed on the left was made in a very Stiles fashion. The comforter was neatly pulled with his pillow on top, hiding the wrinkled sheets underneath. His desk was a complete mess. There were piles of textbooks and miscandelious papers and pens everywhere. You couldn't even see the wood of the desk.

Stiles dropped his bag on the floor, tired of carrying it all day. ''I'd love to give you a tour of the campus, but I have a lot of reading to do and I need to solve this new mock case for Monday. If you had given me a heads-up that you'd be visiting this weekend, I would've cleared my schedule a bit.'' His face was conflicted.

''If I told you, it wouldn't have been a surprise.''

''I know... But I don't want to confine you to my dorm all weekend because I have work to do.''

You had travelled all the way to Quantico and he felt bad for not making the weekend interesting, knowing how expensive plane tickets were.

''I don't care what we do. I just want to spend time with you.'' You snaked your arms behind Stiles' neck, your fingers brushing the bottom of his hair, and brought him down for a kiss. ''And, we can always kiss during study breaks.''

''Of course we will,'' Stiles said, refusing to break tradition.

Although you weren't in the same grade, you and Stiles would study together a lot. You'd go to his house after school and he would help you with maths - because maths is hard and he aced his exams last year. And, most importantly, you'd take study breaks - aka kissing breaks. They would sometimes last longer than intended, but neither of you complained.

''You know what? Let's go out for a pizza,'' Stiles suddenly decided, changing his mind about staying in. ''There's this Italian place just outside the campus that makes the most delicious pizza. Dad and I ate lunch there when he dropped me off.''

Getting pizza with Stiles was a classic activity. You went almost every Thursday since you started dating. Sometimes, Stiles' dad would even join in - if he didn't have too much work at the station.

''Are you sure?'' you asked.

Stiles nodded. ''Well, we gotta eat and I'm tired of the healthy food they have here. I want pizza.''

You sat on his bed, waiting as he changed out of his school uniform. As hot as he looked in his fancy clothes, you liked the familiarity of Stiles' flannels and hoodies.

He unclasped the tie from his shirt, shocking you. You gasped. ''It was fake?!''

Stiles scratched the back of his neck. ''Eh, yeah... I used to wear a real tie, but I'd feel stressed or anxious, the tight feeling around my neck was making the situation worse. But, don't tell anyone.''

Although there was nothing to be embarrassed about, you could tell by his voice that he was embarrassed. You were actually proud of him for finding a solution instead of being frustrated for the way his brain worked. Stiles had gone a long way with his anxiety. He no longer let it control him or stop him from living.

''Your secret is safe with me, babe,'' you promised.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #idk what went wrong with this but I'm still posting it

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the---hermit · 3 years

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This year I am trying different weekly set ups in my bullet journal. I am really excited for this one, it seems fuctional, but we'll see at the end of the week if it actually worked!

03|01|2022

Today was a very productive day, and I am really happy about it because it did not start well. Last night I slept awfully, because I kep having nightmares, but I still managed to get a lot done. I read first thing in the morning and finished my first book of 2022, Winnie The Pooh by A.A. Milne (which also workes for the 2022 book genre bingo, and I started to write the first draft of its review). I then highlighted my notes on academic writing for my english class, and I took the rest of the morning to do a mock test for that exam. I am pretty happy with the short essay I wrote for it, but I have to look for more exercises to practice on. Before lunch I also journaled, practiced both French and Irish on duolingo, and I had a pretty nice writing session, working on the pirate story I started last year and never finished. It's still not done, but at least I am trying to find an ending to it. In the afternoon I organized my week, and I finally had the guts to look into what will be my last class before my degree. It's a huge exam on the philosophy of science, I did some research on the material I'll have to study, and I ordered the first book I'll have to work on. I then decided to read an additional article my English prof gave us on the importance of humanities degrees. My plans for the rest of the day are to take some time for self care, and maybe do my 2022 moodboard and my January moodboard.

myhoneststudyblr's winter studying challenge // 3rd January- What is your aim for 2022?

I'm not sure if I have a specific aim for 2022. Other than my graduation, I think my main aim is to simply do my best to grow everyday.

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shes-a-gryffindor · 3 years

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Of Apples and Psychological Lapses

A @jilytoberfest submission. Prompt #12 - One overhearing something they're not supposed to.

That day, on an otherwise uneventful morning, it started with an apple, of all things.

James Potter sat straddling the bench at the Gryffindor table, poring over what Lily supposed was a textbook, elbow on a knee with an apple in his hand.

Only half listening to Mary’s recitation of the ingredients for the Draught of Living Death that they were supposed to be brewing later that day, she chanced upon another look at him…. the muscles in his jaw jumped as he bit into his apple, and as she watched him laugh at something she couldn’t hear, Lily found herself wondering whether he’d always had that dimple in his cheek… before she’d had the chance to mentally scold herself for her apparent loss of self-control, James caught her eye; grinning roguishly, he winked at her before taking another bite…

“You’re doing it again,” said Mary,

Lily’s neck snapped so quickly away from James she thought she might have whiplash, “doing what?”

“Making love eyes at Potter” she sniggered.

“Don’t be daft,” responded Lily dismissively, “I was not giving him love eyes” she added, silently cursing the blush now creeping up her neck, “…anyway, the ingredients…for today, you were reading them…” a lame attempt at a change in subject.

Mary smirked at her for a moment before returning to her textbook; relieved that she’d been let off the hook, Lily focused intently on Mary’s recitation, despite already knowing the ingredients from memory, she was determined not to look over again at the group of boys sitting only a few feet away from them.

Thinking they’d get a head start on the swarm of students that would soon be filing out of the hall, they packed their books and downed the last of their pumpkin juice. As she stood, Lily glanced quickly over at James again, he was in animated conversation with Sirius, the apple hanging loosely from his fingers at his side… and a ridiculous idea crossed her mind.

Deliberating over it in the seconds it took them to reach the spot where he was sitting, before she’d even really decided upon it, she’d snatched the apple out from his hand, twisting her head round to wink back at him, before taking a bite of what was now her apple.

“Shut up,” she smirked at Mary, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.

The rest of the day continued in a similar fashion; she felt his eyes burning into the back of her head during Transfiguration, then found herself loitering after class, trying to chance perhaps walking out at the same time as him… before realising she was behaving like an idiot and walking quickly out alone.

History of Magic was, in particular, a challenge. It was, as usual, rather impossible to focus on the monotony that was Professor Binns' lesson.

Serenely unaware that no one seemed the least bit interested in his thorough breakdown of wand legends through time, he droned on… “The Death Stick, The Wand of Destiny…” and by the time the lesson was over Lily and James had shared several silent exchanges across the classroom.

Potions that afternoon was perhaps, although short-lived, her only reprieve. Lily was quite comfortable in her element, happily brewing her Draught of Living Death. Having already reached the ideal halfway stage, she smiled contentedly down at the smooth, black currant-colored liquid in her cauldron.

Just as she was about to start chopping her roots, she caught James, brow furrowed, curiously observing her potion, before looking back at his own - which appeared to be eliciting a sort of blue-ish haze, not horrible but certainly not what it should have been doing by that point… better, if nothing else, than Peter’s… who was looking more distressed by the minute at the now foul smelling, brown concoction bubbling in his cauldron.

“Care to share your expertise, Evans?” Asked James, grinning over at her. With his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, his forearms were tense as he shifted his body weight onto them, leaning over the table toward her… and Lily thought quietly, that the dimple in his cheek was obviously not the only thing she’d failed to notice.

“Afraid not, Potter,” she responded, “see If I told you, I’d have to kill you… although, could be doing myself a favour there,” she added, smirking at him.

“Better not then, otherwise you might actually get some peace and quiet… can’t have that,” he said seriously.

“Merlin forbid,” she mumbled, in mock exasperation.

“Merlin forbid,” began Sirius, “all this terrible flirting makes me throw up in my cauldron.”

Mary and Peter burst into a fit of giggles, even Remus, it seemed, found it amusing, while James just grinned down at his cauldron.

“Your potion can’t get any worse than it already is Black… I say try it,” Lily mocked.

Sirius, however, had cast his attention elsewhere.

From the corner of the next table over, having apparently overheard the entire exchange, Severus was looking darkly over at them. His eyes flickered briefly between James and Lily before returning to his potion. She knew she’d been shamelessly flirting with him, for days, weeks really… what she hadn’t realised was how blatantly obvious it was becoming, to everyone even beyond their friends; blushing furiously and feeling rather sheepish, she scowled at Sirius, who was still grinning smugly over at Severus, before returning to her own potion.

As she made the last of her rounds that evening, her mind once again wandered to what was fast becoming something, or rather, someone, she thought about much too often. He’d looked a little too smug after catching her at dinner - watching, as a Hufflepuff in the year below them asked for his help with a Transfiguration essay that weekend… in addition to self-control, she was now apparently also losing her common sense… it was perfectly acceptable that he help another student with an essay, why should this bother her…? But honestly an essay over the weekend, she thought… ask the bloke out and be done with it, what a stupid excuse… Surely he knew the girl fancied him.

The sinking feeling in her stomach at the thought of them, tucked away in a quiet corner of the library poring over an essay together, was extremely disconcerting, this sudden interest in who he was spending time with… He’d made his existence impossible to ignore for the better part of six years, perhaps now that he wasn’t asking her out at every turn her mind was playing that stupid game, the one where you only want something because it’s not as easy to get anymore, not because you genuinely want it… some psychological lapse in judgement… yes that must be it; so trying to force her thoughts back into some semblance of order, Lily resolved to get a grip.

She met Remus in the dungeons and together they checked the last of the corridors before heading back up to the common room, chatting about weekend plans, their upcoming exams and whether they had anything planned for the summer holidays before their seventh year.

Lily was careful to steer the conversation in another direction anytime it got a little too close to James, so she wasn’t exactly thrilled (maybe a little bit) when they stepped through the portrait hole to find James, Sirius and Peter sitting alone in the common room. With a warm smile, Remus bid her goodnight and went to join his friends in front of the fire.

“All right, Evans?” Asked James, grinning that lone-dimpled grin as she walked past.

Shooting him a quick tight lipped smile, she trudged up the staircase to her dormitory with an infuriatingly pink face; she had just reached the top of the staircase, however, when she heard Sirius snigger -

“Reckon she might actually prefer you to the giant squid now.”

Failing in her resolve to get a grip before she’d even begun, and apparently not above eavesdropping now either, Lily stopped and stood there at the top of the staircase, dead silent, craning her neck to listen to them.

“What?” Asked James, “What makes you say that?” In his voice, Lily heard a hint of what she thought sounded like hope.

“Are you daft? Or do you just want to hear it all back?”

“A bit of both I think,” chuckled Remus.

“Did you not see Snivelly’s face in potions? Even he can tell she fancies you mate,” said Sirius, dryly.

“Looked a bit put out, didn’t he?” Chuckled James.

“A bit? Looked like he didn’t know whether to cry or hex you,” chortled Peter, “d’you reckon him and Evans… you know-”

“What? Asked James, cutting him off, “went out?”

“Nah,” answered Sirius quickly, “who’d want to go out with that? Didn’t they know each other from before school, or something?”

“Yeah… they were friends,” said James, with finality in his voice.

“‘Till he showed his true colours,” scoffed Sirius, “…bit naive of her though, don’t you think? To think that he’d be anything but the slimy git he is.”

Lily had half a mind to go down and give Sirius a piece of her mind, until…

“Nah,” said James, “I reckon she knew who he was the whole time… she just chooses to see the good in everyone, y’know? Even a slimy git like Snivellus.” When no one said anything, he added, “Personally, I don’t think she should change that about herself.”

There was silence… and then someone made a dry-retching sound like they were throwing up, followed by scuffling and a series of thuds, “gerrof!” Came Sirius’s muffled voice, over Peter and Remus’s laughter.

Deciding she’d heard enough, Lily tiptoed quietly into her dorm; and as she pulled the scarlet hangings of her four-poster around her that night, she thought perhaps her interest in James Potter wasn’t a psychological lapse in judgment at all.

#jily fic #jily love #jily fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders and lily #marauders era #the marauders #james potter x lily evans #pining #mutual pining #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #jilytober fest #jilytober

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celestialevie · 4 years

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Weddings and what could’ve been’s // F.W. x F! Reader

Hi! This is my first ever posted fic, I hope you’ll like it!

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x F! Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You’ve been friends with Fred since forever. But what happens when the one you love is not feeling the same and now he’s getting married to the girl he loves. Based off of this song :))

Word count: 2.5k

It was supposed to be a good day. Waking up, getting ready for another day of writing her novel about picturing a certain red head as love interest of her novel. But it all flushed down when she saw a small envelope just sitting there on the table, almost as if it was mocking her. It's been sitting there ever since it arrived yesterday afternoon, not expecting to receive an invitation to the wedding of one person she didn't want to participate in. Fredrick Gideon Weasley. Her best friend since their second year of Hogwarts. It was almost ironic how a simple wedding invitation can break a heart that's already been on the verge of breaking, tears were rolling down her face, not a single sound could've been heard besides her sobs. Her best friend/roommate ran out of her room as soon as she heard her. Not expecting to see her best friend on the floor crying over a single paper, she realises what happened, the one thing she dreaded even though it was only a matter of time before it happened. The way Fred was talking about that girl, she knew that her best friend was in a wait of a permanent broken heart. But now a day later, she decided to throw the invitation in the rubbish, deciding no matter how much she cared about her best friend she knew she wouldn't be able to handle watching him promising himself to someone else for forever. Taking out a bottle of her favourite rose, she pours some of it in a glass and heads back to her room, deciding to forget about her heartbreak by throwing herself into her fictional world where she was the one Fred loved.

Soon, she'll realise that not even wine and her own fictional world would help cure her broken heart. Not when the one she's so in love with decided so pay her a visit, not hearing anything from her in over a week. He wondered if she got the invitation to the wedding, the day he couldn't wait for it to finally happen. The thing is, he's not going to be able to do it, if his soulmate in a form of his best friend isn't there by his side, making sure he doesn't panic like he often happens to do in stressful situations.

Upon hearing knocking on her door, she slowly gets up from her desk, heading to open the door, not expecting to see the person she wanted to see the least, standing in front of her.

Every day they were closer to the day that changes everything for forever. One of them was dreading that day, while the other one couldn't want for it to come any sooner. Soon it was the day of rehearsal dinner or also known as the day before it all goes shit show for her. Everything was ready, her outfit ready for tomorrow. Deciding she wasn't strong enough to make it through the wedding alone, she begged her best friend to go with her, helping her survive with alcohol. The wedding was in the backyard of The Burrow, but it wasn't anything special or near as big as it was Bill's, both Fred and Lillian agreeing it was best to have a smaller intimate wedding with their closest ones there. Apparating a minute away from The Burrow, she walks towards the door, knocking softly before entering the house. Everyone was on their feet, final preparations for tomorrow are being made. Ginny was the first one to notice her, running towards the girl. Brining her in the hug, she laughs. '' Hi Ginny '' they pull away from the hug, Ginny looking at the girl. '' You look gorgeous y/n. I'm still angry at my brother for not marrying you. '' y/n rolls her eyes playfully. '' Stop it, you know we would never work as a couple, plus Lillian is a lovely girl, I'm sure she'll be a good sister-in-law. '' they talked as they walked upstairs heading towards Ginny's room. What no one knew is that the night of the Yule ball, Fred was ready to confess his dying crush on his best friend, that's why he brought her to the astronomy tower. He had it all planned out until they were interrupted, and it was all ruined. Fred often wondered if they hadn't been interrupted would've it been her who he was marrying. Would it work out or would it fail and therefore ruin their friendship. George was the only one along with Lee who knew about it. That's why the night before the wedding he found himself sitting in front of the small lake they had behind their house, wondering if Lillian is truly the one he wants to marry. Y/n found him after a few minutes, joining him. '' I knew I'd find you here. '' he said nothing, just kept looking in front of him. '' What's bothering you, Freddie? '' she gently took his hand into hers, brushing her thumb gently across his hand. '' I'm just worried if I'm making a mistake or rushing this. Before tonight, I couldn't been happier waiting for this day to finally come, but now that it's here all my mind seems to do is make me wonder if I'm marrying the wrong girl. Maybe I should just marry you, we've been friends for forever, it wouldn't change much. '' he lets out a small laugh. Letting go off his hand, I grab his face with my hands on both sides of his face. '' Fred I need you to look at me. Do you love Lillian? '' he nods his head. '' I don't think I've ever loved anyone the way I love her. '' a small smile appears in the corner of his mouth. '' Do you see yourself being with her for the rest of your life? Is she the one you want to see growing old with you? '' y/n questions him. Fred waits for a few seconds before answering, with a big smile on his face. '' Yeah, I do. God, why was I even doubting this. This is why I need you by my side, you always know how to get me out of my head. Thank you, love. '' he pulls her into a strong hug. '' Hey, if you need a getaway car tomorrow, me and George will have one prepared and then we can get married. '' she joked, even though there was some half truth in it. '' it's late, I have to go get that beauty sleep for tomorrow so do you. Goodnight Freddie. '' she plants a small kiss on his cheek before apparating herself back to her flat, before crashing down in the middle of living room, bursting into tears of heartbreak. The pieces that weren't shatter from before, had shattered now. There were no pieces left of her heart. The rest of the night she spent in the arms of her best friend, crying herself to sleep.

It was funny really. The story of how they met, how they became inseparable and how she eventually fell in love with him. The latter didn't come to much of a surprise. How could someone not fall in love with him, when he's the most amazing person she's ever come across. It was their second year in Hogwarts, and she was heading towards the library, deciding to prepare herself for the upcoming Potions exam. Merlin knows how much she dreaded those. It wasn't her fault, most people on her mom's side of family never really knew how to do potions. As she was walking there, someone grabbed her by her arm and started dragging her away with them in a direction of the nearest broom closet. In a second she realised it was one of the Weasley twins. Not even needing to ask why he was in such a hurry, already knowing they caused another trouble. Quickly running inside the broom closet, one of the twins put a hand on her mouth, signalling for her to be quiet. Rolling her eyes, she did as told until we heard Filch and Mrs. Norris passing by. Another minute passed on until he removed his hand from her mouth. '' I'm Fred. '' he introduced himself. '' Y/n '' she shook his hand. '' Care to explain why you dragged me into this dusty broom closet with yourself? '' Fred laughed. '' Had to move you out of the way from Filch or else you'd be in the trouble along with me. '' nodding her head, she left the closet. And that was the beginning of their weird friendship. From participating in the pranks, to making excuses why they're not in the certain classes you shared with them to Fred asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him, leading us to the night they had almost kissed. Somewhere in between she slowly fell for her best friend without intending to. It all felt like a dream. Dancing with her best friend so closely, to sneaking off to the astronomy tower because that night, the stars were shining so bright. Slow dancing in the moonlight, it all felt almost to perfect. Both of them slowly leaning towards each other until they heard a crashing noise, interrupting their intimate moment. It made her realise that it was for the best for them to be just friends, their friendship being worth more than a relationship not knowing how it'll end. Almost as if it was a silent agreement between them, neither of the two brought it up ever again. She would never want to ruin his day, so yes she had agreed to be his second best man, no matter how much it'll hurt to be there so up close seeing it all unfold almost like in a film scene.

Next morning when she woke up, she felt so exhausted while getting ready. She barely had any energy in her body and she was pretty sure she also had no tears left. Putting on her beautiful dress, she did her makeup and hair. She was ready to stand there next to her best friend, and watch him marry the love of his life, no matter how much the fact that it's not her hurted. It was a beautiful ceremony, he looked so beautiful in his dark blue suit, it really made his hair and eyes stand out a bit more, and don't her started on how beautiful the bride was. Her gown looked straight out of a fairytale. A few tears espaced during the ceremony but when George asked her why is she crying, she brushed it off as happy tears, even though she knew she didn't fool George with that lie. During the reception she mostly stayed at her table, trying to drown her sorrow in the wine and other alcoholic drinks. She watched as her roommate/best friend danced with George along with watching Fred and Lillian dance together like it was only two of them. Molly and Ginny often came and talked to me, but it wasn't long until I couldn't handle it anymore and just drowned the rest of my drink before saying goodbye to everyone, making an excuse saying she unfortunately had to go home and finish her book, her publisher gave her a deadline until tomorrow. The last person left to say goodbye to was Fred. Tapping him on the shoulder, she gives him a smile as he turns around. '' Congratulations Freddie boy once again. But I have to leave now unfortunately, I have a book to finish. '' Before she could even say anything he took her hands and put them around his neck, pulling her closer to him. '' Just this one dance and then I'm setting you free, okay? '' He begged her. Nodding her head, they start slow dancing. '' I'm really proud of you Freddie, you finally found the one you always talked about. Hopefully one day I'm gonna find my prince charming one day. '' she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. '' I'm sorry I wasn't the one for you. '' he said, making the tears slowly start pooling in my eyes. '' That's not for you to apologise, we're too good friends for us to work in a relationship. Us not kissing that night of the yule ball was for the best. If we kissed who knows if you'd meet Lillian, your true love. Don''t you worry about me. '' and with that she pulled away from him, placing a small kiss on his cheek before apparating home. Letting him stand there alone, her words sinking in, making him wonder again if he had made a mistake by not letting her know of his feeling that night. But soon his thoughts were brushed away as he felt the lips of his wife on his.

'' Hello love '' he greets her after she moved aside, letting him in. Pulling her into a hug, he goes into the living room, while she still stands there shocked at her door. Quickly getting rid of her thoughts, she heads over to where he was. '' Hi Freddie, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you to visit. '' she sits down next to him. '' Well it's been over a week since I've last heard from you, so I decided to pay you a visit. She nods her head. '' Yeah, sorry about that. I started working on my novel again and that's all I've focusing on recently. Didn't mean to neglect your need for constant attention. '' she jokes, even though she knew he had his fiancée know to give him attention. Fred rolls his eyes. '' Yeah yeah whatever. Listen I have a question/favour to ask you. '' she furrows her eyebrows. '' Okay, I'm listening. '' taking a deep breath, he begins. '' So as you probably know I proposed to Liliana. Speaking of that, have you received my invitation to the wedding? '' it's been over a month since they got engaged, and yet she still couldn't bare the thought of losing Fred forever. '' Yes I have, it's very beautiful Freddie, I am very happy for the two of you. '' she gives him her best fake smile, not wanting to upset her best friend. '' Thank you, love. My question is, would you like to be my second best man? Along with George of course. I don't think that I would be able to do it without you by my side. Please say yes or at least think about it. It would really mean everything to me. '' This was definitely something she hadn't expect. There goes your plan on not going to the wedding, making an excuse of why she can't make it and get drunk in her room while watching her favourite romcoms. '' Of course Freddie, anything for you. '' those words came out before you even had a chance to think about them.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harrypotter #george weasley #hpau #angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george weasley #fred weasley smut #hogwarts #george weasley fanfiction #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley angst

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

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The Professor ~ JHS [M] [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 4.2K

↬↬↬Genre: College Au!, Tutor!Hoseok, Student!Reader, smut,

↬↬↬Warnings: praise kink, smut, swearing, Cunnilingus, blow job, unprotected sex.

↬↬↬A/N: I lost the anon that requested this but it was asking for Hoseok and a praise kink. I wanted to make it different from the cliche ‘’You’re so quiet so I noticed you’’ aspect so I tried something a little different. Hope this is okay for you and yes Hosoek is a literacy tutor for this…don’t question me

Your unusually bright hair was what made you stand out in a crowd and in class, you were the girl that was well known and liked because you told people how it was and you didn't care if it made them hate you. If it was the truth it had to be told, it was how you were raised and how you were going to continue living. Besides from being the confident, loud and loving one of your friendship group - if you could call it a group, everyone on your side of college campus seemed to love and know who you were - you were also the smartest. Always passing your classes with flying colours and the one class you did your very best in was Literacy with Professor Hoseok. You had no idea why you always did so well in his class but there was never a change in grade in that one, A's throughout your first and second year, even now in your final year you were getting A's across the board.

"Lewis Carroll was a novelist and a poet! I want you all to take some time getting to know this author over your weekend!" Hoseok said as he knew the final bell was coming, it was a Friday afternoon and his Friday afternoon classes were nice and relaxing, he'd give you all an assignment to work on but nothing major to stress you all out over since it was the weekend.

"I know a lot of you will choose Alice's Adventures in Wonderland but I want you to think more outside of the box and branch into his other works." You began packing up everything into your bag, you had to collect some results from other classes before your weekend could begin. You'd planned a whole weekend away with two of your roommates, going to a spa to relax after the mock exams you'd taken.

"Y/n! Are you ready to get your pamper on?" Hoseok looked up as he heard Jihoo talking to you from her seat, he looked over at you. You were sitting there with your bright coloured hair thrown up into a messy ponytail, black jeans with a band shirt on. He noticed every student in his class but he noticed you the most, the way you stood out of the crowd but not in a disrespectful way. You stood out because you were smart - always answering questions that Hoseok had asked, doing your 100% best on the assignments he would set though he wasn't supposed to have favourites you were his.

"I'm so ready, I'll meet you back at the apartment. I have to get my grades from Professor Bang and Professor Sana," Your friends all left the classroom and you got up from the desk, flicking through your folder as you walked to the front of the classroom.

"Professor Hoseok?" Hoseok looked away from his laptop screen, he was grading last week's papers that were long overdue and he was going to be far behind for the weekend.

"Yes Miss Y/l/n?" You smiled softly at him, the way your name rolled off his tongue like that sent shivers down your spine but you would never act on it. There was no rule against dating a college professor on your campus but sleeping with someone who graded your papers wasn't the best way to live the college life.

"I just wanted to hand this in, it was due Yesterday but Kyle was in the hospital." Kyle was another one of your classmates who'd been involved in a skateboard accident breaking one of his legs and his arm.

"You went to see him to get this to me?" You nodded and put the folder into your side bag,

"He was texting the group chat about how hard he'd worked on it and so I figured I could just hand it in." Hoseok thanked you and you left the room. He watched as you walked away from him, just by looking at you no one would expect you to be this kind and considerate towards others but Hoseok had looked into your school record. Not only did you excel in all of your classes your extracurriculars were just as impressive from volunteering at hospitals, nursing homes and tutoring others he wondered how you ever made time for yourself and it made him more interested in knowing you.

The weekend came and went for Hoseok, he'd spent his time closed up in his office hunched over papers trying to read through desperate attempts to pass his class. Your weekend, however, was spent hunched over your desk in your dorm instead of the relaxing it was supposed to be.

"Where's Y/n?" Josh asked as he walked into Hoseok's classroom, no one had seen you all day. Hoseok's ear picked up when he heard people mumbling your name, he could have sworn he'd seen you in the library earlier in the day when he went for a lunch break. He noticed the big glasses on your face as well as you bright hair before he noticed anything else, you were reading something so he didn't go to talk to you only now he wished he had.

"She didn't come on the spa trip, I called her and she said something came up." Jihoo sighed looking at Josh and laying her head on his shoulder, any excuse to flirt with someone but you were there. You were juts hunched up in the back of the class, hoodie pulled up over your head to hide your hair which was normally your favourite feature but right now it was the one thing that would give you away.

"Is she okay? She never misses classes." Hoseok scanned the classroom and he noticed you, your head was in a book, glasses pushed up against your face and head downcast trying to go unnoticed but you didn't go unnoticed by him. He could tell you didn't want to talk to anyone though so he started his class,

"I trust you all had a great weekend and are ready to learn." There were low mumbles about how excited they were and so he started lecturing them more on Lewis Carroll, giving them facts about his lifestyle and his upbringing.

"Aren't all his books and poems just children's play?" Josh screamed out making the whole class erupt into laughter, this was usually where you would step in to correct him but Hoseok was going to have to do that for you today.

"Not necessarily Mr Quarbeck, there are many meanings behind the things he wrote." He picked up his favourite copy of a Lewis Carol poem and showed everyone,

"The Walrus and the Carpenter, can anyone tell me what it's about?" He looked at you, you were dying to answer him since it was what your assignment was about. You'd chosen it because it happened to be one of your favourites.

"It's the one where the man goes under the sea and lures the oysters away. I watched a Disney movie." Jihoo said proudly, flicking her hair over her shoulder and smirking.

"I suppose so yes but there's a deeper meaning to the story than that. Have I taught you nothing over my years of teaching, you guys?" They all stared at him blankly and he could tell that this was a lost cause.

"Go. Take the class off, I want you all to go and reread your assignments and then come back when you find the deeper meaning." He clapped his hands together and the whole class began to rush around trying to beat everyone out of the class, you stayed behind to slowly pack up.

"Miss Y/l/n?" You glanced over at Hoseok who was leaning against his desk and gesturing for you to go over to him.

"Yes Professor Hoseok?" He smiled at you and then saw that you had bloodshot eyes and looked like you'd been crying,

"Sit down." He pointed at the seat beside his desk in the hall and then went to get you some tissues he kept on the desk.

"Everything okay?" It was a simple question that should have just had one answer 'yes' and then you should have left but as soon as he asked it was like the flood gates opened once again and you started crying and sobbing about something he couldn't quite understand. He didn't know how to comfort you about it since he didn't know what you were actually saying,

"What's the Walrus and the Carpenter about?" He asked and it was as if a switch went off in your head, the tears stopped and you spoke out facts to him.

"It has themes of death and betrayal within, it talks about tricking young oysters and eating them after a long walk together." He smiled as you started to calm down, he handed you the tissue and sat down.

"We won't have long until another professor comes to use this room. Do you want to come to my office and talk about it?" You nodded, it would be nice to talk to someone about what got you so upset. No one else would understand it except for him.

"Sit, do you want a hot drink?" He questioned, the inside of his office was huge. It had a wooden desk at the back wall and in front of it sat a brown fabric sofa covered with pillows and a throw. He caught you staring at the sofa before sitting down on it,

"I sometimes sleep here on the weekends when I'm behind, it's a lot easier than travelling home in the mornings." You nodded in understanding and he offered you a hot chocolate, he had a small kettle in his office along with a set of coffee, tea and hot chocolate sitting upon a mini-fridge.

"You practically live here Professor Hoseok," Your voice cracked as you tried to speak, you felt open with him and it was nice to have that feeling around someone.

"What's bothering you?" He asked sitting down on the sofa but leaving a gap between you.

"It seems so stupid looking back on it but I erm, I failed both Professor Bang and Sana's classes and I have to resit the whole exam again." He stared at you as he walked over to finish the drinks he was making. He placed them down on his desk instead of handing it to you, it was far too hot to drink right away.

"Are you struggling a lot in their classes?" You nodded your head,

"I don't understand it. It's just everyone's classes except yours I seem to be failing this year." You hid your face in your hands as you thought about it, maybe this was a huge mistake. Complaining to another professor that you were failing,

"You're always such a good girl, I doubt it won't take you long to pass them. How about I help you study? I took music production in college and Sana's class isn't that far away from my own. I can help." Your eyes shot up to stare at him as you heard him mention it,

"You'd do that?" Your voice was shaky and he could tell that you needed the help,

"Sure. How about we meet here on Friday?" You nodded eager to get to work with him,

"Thank you so much, Professor, I'll pay you back in any way I can. I'll tutor the other students more, or I can help you grade." He chuckled and shook his head at you,

"No need, just pass your glass and that's the only thanks I need." You smiled at him and nodded getting up from the sofa and leaving. He stared out of the small window that looked out into the hall at you and smiled to himself. The look on your face when he told you he'd help you was enough to make his week and he wanted to see it again.

Weeks had passed and you were doing better than ever in both of your classes thanks to Hoseok who had started insisting you called him Hobi when you were alone together. He didn't want everything to be formal since you were both spending so much time together and it was a lot of time. Once you'd even fallen asleep on the sofa and he'd tucked you in and left you there with a note about where his key was if you needed to get out and the door was locked. You'd gotten your grades back from both tutors this morning and you were excited to show the results to Hobi you practically sprinted to his office after your classes had finished that Friday.

"Ahh Y/n, how did it go?" He asked watching as you shut the door and turned the papers around to reveal a C on the front of each of them. It wasn't an A but it was a move up from the F you'd gotten before and that was all you cared about.

"A 'C'!? That's brilliant!" He called out coming out from his desk and taking the paper into your hand, you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him without thinking but the second you realised you pulled away and cleared your throat.

"Sorry Professor, I just got a little excited." He shook his head and handed you the papers back,

"You should be excited. I'm so proud of you." He placed his hand on your shoulder and you felt a spark run through your body. Over the weeks with meeting up with him, you'd grown quite close and you'd started to notice an attraction towards him. He was handsome, he was incredibly smart and nice to you but he was also your tutor.

"I still don't know why I was struggling so much but thank your Professor,"

"I told you to call me Hobi," He sat down on the sofa and you sat down beside him, no gap between you. Your thigh against his thigh and he stared at you nervously thinking of how to approach the subject,

"I know why you do better with me." You hummed at him to continue and he sighed loosening his tie before taking it off and throwing it onto the desk. Images of the tie being wrapped around your hands filled your head but you ignored them trying to remain professional.

"In class whenever you answered something for me I would respond by praising you." You nodded to let him know you understood what he was saying,

"When you're in their class I'm assuming they don't do the same." You shook your head and it only proved to Hoseok what he thought in the first place.

"I think you have something that-" He stopped himself, it wasn't exactly teacher-student appropriate talk,

"This is me talking strictly as someone who knows you, not as Professor Hoseok. It came to my attention that you have a praise kink." You felt your cheeks begin to get hot and your ears start to burn as he brought it up. It was true but you thought it only applied in the bedroom not outside of it where you could benefit from it educationally.

"I'm assuming I'm right by the way you've gone silent and are staring at the floor." You nodded but it didn't feel uncomfortable to admit this to him it felt natural.

"I do have that but I never knew it would affect me out of the bedroom." He chuckled at you and nodded,

"I assumed that why you did so well," You smiled and thanked him for helping you again. He shook his head and you stared up into his eyes feeling your heart begin to flutter as he stared down at you. Ever since he'd mentioned the praise kink you'd gotten needy and he'd be lying to himself if he wasn't turned on by the thought of taking you in his office. Without either of you thinking about it you began leaning in until your lips touched and it was a spark to a fire. Everything became heated quickly, his hands were on your waist and you were moving to sit on his lap rather than next to him. His other hand ran up and cupped your face as you made out on the sofa, his tongue running along your bottom lip. You parted your lips allowing him access and he smirked sucking on your tongue a little and hearing you moan.

"Professor Hoseok," You whined as you felt him growing beneath you, you needed him and you needed the praise from making him feel good. You ground your hips down to create some friction and he groaned out holding onto your hip tightly as you continued to swirl your hips.

"You really are a good girl." He chuckled looking at you as you smiled at him, your eyes were filled with lust for him. You wanted to hear him moan out your name and call you a good girl all night. He tapped your ass gently,

"Lock the door, I don't want anyone walking in." He chuckled as you rushed over to lock the door, he walked to the small window and drew the curtains closed looking at you as he returned to the sofa. He'd expected you to get back onto his lap but you surprised him by dropping to your knees in front of him and reaching up to palm him through the jeans he was wearing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked as he stared down at you, growing harder underneath your touch as you continued to palm him through the rough fabric.

"Yes Professor," He shook his head at you and you started to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

"Call me Hobi or Hoseok," You hummed and sprung him free from his boxers. He was covered in precum and it made your mouth water at the thought of taking him into your mouth,

"E-Easy... That's it, good girl." He praised as you slowly licked stripes along the tip of his cock before licking from the base to the tip and taking him all the way into your mouth, he grunted as he hit the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his head whenever you'd come back up his length letting him moan out your name loudly before placing his hand in your hair.

"F-fuck." He grunted loving the feeling of being inside of your mouth he was weak for you, he'd imagined this a thousand times but nothing he could imagine would come close to how you were making him feel right now. He held your face as he bucked his hips into your mouth breathing heavily as he felt himself getting closer to his release,

"You're such a good fucking girl taking my cock like this," You hummed around him and he whimpered softly as he felt the vibrations rush through his body.

"I-I can't...I'm g-gonna cum. Stop," You pulled off him a little disappointed that you didn't get to taste him and as if he could read your mind he ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

"You can taste me another time baby girl, right now I want to taste you," He pulled you up from the floor, kicking off his trousers before stripping you of your own clothes, he kissed your lips and you whined out as you felt his fingers trace your body. You were now fully naked and under his beck and call,

"Sit down on the sofa like a good girl." You did as you were told and he pulled you towards the edge of the sofa spreading your legs and smirking as he looked at your dripping pussy,

"All this for me?" He questioned running one finger between the wetness of your folds and chuckling as you let out another breathy whimper.

"All for you Hobi," He chuckled and kissed your lips before dropping to his knees in front of you,

"Good girl." You seemed to grow wetter and he noticed, kissing up your thighs until he reached your core. You tensed up a little, you'd only ever been eaten out once and you'd never done it again,

"Relax baby. Let me take care of you for being such a good girl." Your legs relaxed and he chuckled before kissing your sensitive clit replacing his lips with his thumb rubbing in small circles while he slipped in tongue into you sucking and licking.

"A-Ah fuck!" You cried out your back arching off the sofa as he continued to suck on your womanhood, making unholy sounds as you moaned out above him. He switched - his mouth returning to your clit and pumping two fingers inside of you. Your head was spinning as you felt every hair on your body stand up. You'd never felt like this with anyone and he chuckled feeling you clench around his fingers.

"Are you going to be a good girl and ask to cum?" Your legs lifted from the floor and wrapped around his shoulders unconsciously holding him closer to your cunt as you felt your orgasm approaching. He hummed and you moaned out his name nodding desperately,

"Y-Yes! Fuck! Please can I cum Professor Hobi?!" He chuckled once again hearing the same fall from your lips as you came undone above him.

"You've been so good, go on princess. Cum." His fingers began to pick up the pace and everything around you started to go white as he continued to eat you out like this.

"Hoseok!" You screamed out hands clinging onto the sofa as you tried to steady your bucking hips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck and making you moan out his name loudly.

"Good girl, look at that." He chuckled as you tiredly watched him take your arousal and cover his cock in it. It only made you needier for him and he got up from the floor and lined himself up at your entrance.

"Ready?" You nodded and he slowly eased himself inside of you not wanting to go too rough, you whined at his size and he held himself in place giving you time to adjust to him. He kissed your lips lovingly,

"Good girl, you okay?" You smiled drunkenly at him as he called you a good girl again.

"You can move." He slowly began to thrust in and out of you while you adjusted to him being there.

"You're so fucking tight and warm around me." You smiled again as you heard his praise and then you moaned finally getting pleasure now you were adjusted to him.

"H-harder." You begged him and he chuckled lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to angle himself deeper into you and you were already a mess crying out his name as he began to pound into you the sound of skin slapping together filled the air along with heavy panting.

"R-Right there!" You cried out loudly as he hit your sweet spot with ease, he began slamming into you as he felt you clenching around him. He grunted as he felt himself getting closer to his release once again, your mouth and cunt had made him needier than he'd ever been before.

"Fuck, you're so fucking good aren't you?" You nodded and he continued to fuck into you holding you in place with one hand as he pace got quicker and stronger each time he pulled out. It was intoxicating to be with you and you felt the same with him. He began kissing you as he felt himself getting closer,

"Feels so good professor," You whimpered moving your hips to meet with his every time he slammed into you making your head spin.

His pace got quicker and quicker and he began to moan out as you shook around him from the pleasure he was giving you. His hand reached down between you and began to rub your clit, it was like your body was on fire.

"Fuck! Fuck! Hobi I'm- I'm cumming!" You cried out as your orgasm ripped through your body sending waves through you.

"Me too baby," He continued to fuck you through both of your highs only pulling out of you when you both came down from your highs.

You were both panting heavily as he sat down beside you on the sofa, he turned to look at you with a lazy smile and you smiled back at him.

"I hope you know I don't plan on that being a one-time thing." You smiled back at him and nodded moving over to him and giving him a kiss.

"Good, I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." You whispered to him. Both of you far too tired to leave the office but knowing you had to soon.

"I'll take you home tonight,"

"My dorm is under construction, I need a ride to the train station. I'm staying out of town for the weekend." He looked at you,

"Are you staying with anyone?" You shook your head explaining that you were going to a small motel since it was the only place you could afford.

"You can stay at mine, take the bedroom and I'll have the sofa." You smirked at him,

"Why don't we both take the bedroom." He smirked back at you and nodded.

"I wanted to at least act like a gentleman first." You giggled at him and kissed him once again on the lips.

tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie

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moxfirefly · 4 years

Text

Video calls and confessions

Part 2

Rated Explicit (18+)

Got around to that part teo for this one shot.

Hellboy/Cam!Girl

____________________

The world going to shit wasn’t exactly how’d you planned out your Friday afternoon. This morning you had woken up with enthusiasm and a desire to treat yourself.

You’d gone out to the city, had your nails done, grabbed an obscenely priced coffee and on your way had stumbled on a museum.

A little culture never hurt nobody.

For Christ sake it was a free entry day too.

So why then, as you admired priceless art and sculptures had literal hell descended upon the evening?

Creatures. Actual monsters. The screams of the public deafening.

That had happened about half an hour ago. In your haste you had thanked you fight or flight mode to quick into flight. The shaking in your body had cause you to run into one of the exhibit rooms most cluttered with random ‘junk’ whatever this art installation had gone for it was surely not for somebody to duck behind for safety.

You checked your phone. The news was reporting the attack of the art museum. Authorities had been sent as well as the B.P.R.D...

That made you pause and clutch your phone.

If the bureau was on its way then that meant Hellboy was too.

The very notion of possibly seeing him in the flesh made your heart skip a few beats. The two of you had been communicating on and off for a while now since the private shows had started. You knew mixing work and pleasure wasn’t smart but fuck, you had it bad for this guy.

There was a sense of relief washing over you. He’d be here, he’d take care of this mess. Maybe you’d finally see him and not through a computer screen. You knew things had escalated with him although neither of you had really properly addressed it.

“Please whatever is up there, if I survive this I’m fucking telling him I’m in love with him” You whispered to yourself. This possibly couldn’t be your last day on earth.

Something screeching and something akin to a human scream startled you. You hugged your knees closer and tried not to breath loudly. Gunshots and more screams could be heard.

Then something came crashing into the installation where you were hiding. Your scream was imposible to hold in. The creature was screeching so loudly, a sound that left your ears ringing.

Adrenaline made you run out as fast as you humanly could. You heard the great strides it took to catch up to you. This was it wasn’t it? You were gonna die?

Your legs kept pushing you forward even as your muscles burned with pain. Your eyes hurt from crying and your throat felt like it was sandpaper. Something like a claw reaching for your hair made you close your eyes. There was no way you wanted to see how this ended for you.

Two shots.

Loud and so very clear, the sound coming out of left field made you trip and fall. The screening fortunately had stopped.

“Miss?! You’re safe! Hey! You gotta get out of here now!” That voice you knew all to well. You looked up and saw red and a stone hand.

“R-red...” Your voice was small, a sob catching in your throat.

“Y/N!?” He was shocked, eyes wide as he knelt in front of you.

You weren’t sure how your body moved or if he moved you but somehow you’d ended up with your arms around him sobbing into his neck. Hellboy held you tightly, whispering that you were safe, an array of cusses slipped out as he breathed heavily.

The knowledge that you were here, if he’d been a millisecond too late, all crashed down on him as he picked you up and carried you to safety.

You could’ve died, was all that ran through his head.

You’re alive, was all that ran through yours.

_______________

One helicopter ride, a medical exam and a shower later you found yourself at the home base of the B.P.R.D. A nice young woman by the name of Alice had loaned you some clothes and had taken you to Hellboy’s room to wait. A debriefing was happening and all you could do was sit tight.

You resolved to canceling all your cam shows for the week stating you had fallen terribly ill. There was no way you could work, your hands were still shaking as you typed out the post and notified your one on one shows. It felt like hours as you sat on the couch, you had looked around at his room, seeing and array of personal items that made up his personality.

Such a big part of you often dreamt about this but your nerves had you glued to your spot.

The door opened and Hellboy came barreling in like a tornado. You flinched and bit too hard on your already chewed off nail, so much for that manicure.

“I’m so sorry, I wanted to leave that stupid meeting but it’s fucking mandatory because Daimio thinks it’s necessary, asshole that guy I tell ya-“ He took in your state, the still slight tremble in your hands, the few scrapes here and there. You looked small and scared and it absolutely destroyed him.

In his silence he made his way towards the coffee table and sat in front of you. “You know I often fantasized what it be like to see you in the flesh, this wasn’t how it usually went I promise” He smiled and for the first time in this piss filled day, so did you.

“How would it go?” You asked softly.

“Some mood light, a little wine maybe some music” The two of you chuckled. Your chuckles quickly dissolved in you trying to hold back your tears.

You were almost killed tonight, the shock would take some time to subside. “Hey hey kid, it’s ok, I’ve got you. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you on my watch” Hellboy’s flesh hand rested on your knees.

You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder. “...When I read you guys were sent out, I really got excited that I’d finally see you” You felt his flesh hand stroke your hair.

“I’m in love with you” You blurted out, his hand going to still. “I said, if I’m making it out of this alive I’m telling him, so I’m telling you...” You looked up at him, e/c meeting his golden ones.

“I-Im not dancing around this no more, I’m tired of pretending that what’s been going on isn’t just some work thing that I do, fuck, I love you I really do and I think you do too” Your mouth want dry again, the scratchy sensation making you swallow.

Hellboy searched out your eyes, something in his head was going a mile a minute. Was he searching for a lie? Something disingenuous?

That all died when he lunged forward and kissed you.

A kiss that truly and utterly left no worry.

You were kissing Hellboy. You were gripping Hellboy by the scruff of his shirt. The way his lips molded against yours, the abnormal warmth to them, the softness to them, the roughness of his scruff.

Pulling back for air felt obligated but he’d insisted by pressing the stumps of his horns against your forehead. “Wow...that’s...so much better than I could’ve imagined” He was star struck in a way and it honest to god made you laugh.

The days events took a back seat for now you wanted to take in the being before you. You scanned everything you normally did while on cam with him. Your hands explored his face, running across scars and hair.

Then you remembered what lay to his right and your heart raced.

You gripped his stone hand, fascinated by the texture of stone, how he held your hand with so much regard to his strength. The patterns, the markings everything has you entranced.

“Extraordinary” Was all you could muster as you rubbed on what would be the inside f his wrist. “I’m sorry, is this weirding you out?” You looked at Hellboy only to find him grinning. “Having a beautiful girl touch me? Yes it’s completely weirding me out” He mocked and you couldn’t help but playfully shove him.

“God I need a beer, can we...?” He was leaning over toward the mini fridge next to the couch and pulling said drinks out. “Read my mind, beautiful” He offered one towards you.

This morning you were going about a normal routine, and now after a near death experience you were in the room of a man you had been falling in love with for months. The twist and turns of life.

Around round 3 you’d excused yourself to use the bathroom. As you washed your hands and saw your normal pristine face a little worn down from the stressful events you frowned.

But there you stood in Hellboy’s bathroom. Surrounded by things all him. The tips of your fingers ran through a brush of his. This was a reality right now.

You stepped out and caught him shrugging off his coat. Busying your thumbnail again at your teeth you watched his now visible arms flex with the movements.

“All good?” He smiled leaning against the dresser.

There was a pregnant pause in which the two of you merely just ogled one another from across the bed.

You moved first.

You walked over the bed and stood on it, you reached out a hand that he took without hesitation and with the extra height from the bed you met in a heated kiss face to face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you felt his around your hips.

In a wordless haste you yanked at his black T-shirt and busied yourself with taking off yours. He watched mesmerized, as always, the revealing of your skin.

The image before you though, god you wanted to scream.

Hellboy undoing his belt and swiftly yanking the whole thing out of the belt loops without breaking eye contact. Off were your pants, and on was him as he took you down on the bed.

It was a haze, breathless kisses and chants of desire. He one handed the button of your jeans and his own. The brief separation to take the offending items off had the two of you giggling almost. In record time he was back on you and you welcomed it with a ferocity to your kisses. Tongue slipping into his mouth, you swallowed a groan of his that vibrated all the way to your cunt.

He was here, you were here. Physically.

You grinned as he trailed kisses over both your covered breast. “Take-fuck-take it off please, now right now” You felt the air leave your lungs when he simply broke the bra in half and met his reward, two beautifully round breasts he had craved more than any meal. Hellboy pressed his face between them and inhaled before leaving a series of bites and marks. Each time he bit down your raised your hips in search of friction.

The heaviness in the air, the warmth of him lapping and sucking at your breast. The heated tongue wrapping around a nipple. Hellboy devoured you, and if your breast had him like this...

“Baby please, wanna touch you too” Your hands ran down his back, sharp nails leaving a path. Hellboy shuddered as he left a nipple with a loud pop. “Go on, I’m all yours” That very comment sent a gush of heat and you bit your lip to hold a moan in.

You nudged him to lay on his back and you climbed on top of him. Hands running over your body, the feeling of that stone hand gently cupping your rear was enough to make you grind down on him with purpose.

“I promised you something every time we spoke, you remember what that was?” You rubbed yourself on him as you began to trail down his body. Hellboy’s eyes were fogged with lust. “Oh, you remember” You kissed his stomach, nails scratching his sides before hooking into the waistband of his underwear.

He was going to have a stroke.

Hellboy watched you slide his underwear down. Eyes hungry and mouth engulfing his cock. He bucked up without meaning to but you caught most of the onslaught by closing up your throat. A minor choke and you were back on track.

Fuck he was big and thick, you did your best swallowing as much as possible before settling the rest with your hand to jerk. The gut punched groan that left him egging you on. He saw your head bob, the way your lips stretched around his length, the blissed out look as you sucked earnestly. “Shit shit, you look beautiful” Hellboy reached a left hand across your cheek.

Letting him go with a breathy inhale, spit on your chin you jerked him lazily.

He was putting this look away for a rainy day. You had no right looking so utterly debauched and perfect.

“C’mere and kiss me, beautiful” Hellboy whispered softly and you obeyed crawling on him to meet him in a sensual slow lip lock.

Underwear gone, or more so also ripped apart. You were now on top of him about to guide his cock into your drenched hole. The initial burn was actually delicious, that breach between pain and pleasure sending a delightful shock through your body. Once fully seated on him you reveled in stretch and burn. “God this is, fuck I-“ You moaned as you tested with a sway of your hips, he was hitting your spot perfectly. You rested your hands on his chest and he gripped your waist.

Hellboy was gone, the sight of you riding him, lost in your pleasure caused by him nevertheless. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever see. Lost to it all you fell forwards, burying your face in his neck. Your impending release had you stuttering your hips. “I got you baby, I got you” He muttered against your ear. You moaned as he held you, hips pistoning upwards to drive that orgasm out of you.

It crashed something fierce, running all over your body and coming out as a scream against his neck. You felt limp as a noodle but held onto him as he fucked his way through yours. When he came he yanked another orgasm out of you along with his.

The two of you laid there, a mess of limbs clutching at each other. Hearts racing, lungs trying to catch up.

Exhaustion won. You fell a sleep on Hellboy, still inside of you, his mouth against your temple.

There was no turning back now.

#hellboy #hellboy x fem!reader #hellboy x reader insert #hellboy 2019 #hellboy x reader #female reader insert #reader insert #sequel fic #n*fw

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nicknellie · 3 years

Text

It’s nearly two in the morning and I just spent an hour writing a Flarrie idea that’s been rattling around my head for weeks, so here you go. It’s essentially both Flynn and Carrie having no idea how romance works. Enjoy.

Smiley Faces and Love Hearts

The notes were really starting to get on Carrie’s nerves. Every time she opened her locker a scrappy piece of paper would flutter to the ground, ripped around the edges and so heavily doodled on that the lines on it were hardly visible. And every time she would sigh and pick it up, read through it, roll her eyes, and throw it in the bin. She wouldn’t have minded the notes if they had been a little nicer. As it was, each and every one of the notes so far had been an insult.

That morning’s note was no different. Carrie was already having a bad day - she had quite literally woken up on the wrong side of bed and ended up stubbing her toe (which was still throbbing almost an hour later), then she had spilled coffee down her favourite top and hadn’t had time to change, so she’d improvised and pulled a jumper on without really looking at it. When she was already halfway to school she had realised that she had forgotten to bring all of the music she’d spent the weekend working on for the Dirty Candi rehearsal that afternoon and sworn loudly in frustration; that had earned her a stern talking-to from an old lady who happened to be passing and thought Carrie had aimed the swear at her. Because of that she had ended up late for school.

And then came the note.

It fell out of her locker the moment she opened it and began drifting to the ground. She snatched it midair and smoothed out its creases. Carrie knew that reading the note would only make her feel worse, but she couldn’t help it. Her curiosity got the better of her and she read the single word scrawled messily amongst doodles of flowers and love hearts.

Demon.

Should’ve guessed it would be something like that, she thought bitterly, scowling as she scrunched the note up again and flung it into the nearby bin. All the other notes had been equally nasty things, many of them worse, but all had been surrounded by those infuriatingly happy doodles - smiley faces, hearts with arrows stuck through them, beautiful swirly patterns that took up half the paper. It was almost as if the person sending the notes was happy to insult Carrie, like they thought it was a game.

Carrie knew who was sending the notes, of course. There was only one person who had the gall to say that sort of thing to her face, and sending the little notes was only a step away. It had to be Flynn - she was the only one who ever felt able to talk back to Carrie in any way.

That was the worst part because that very thing was probably why Carrie liked Flynn so much. So many people were intimidated by her because of who her dad was and her status, and a lot of people only wanted to talk to her so that they could say they were friends with the Carrie Wilson. It made things quite lonely sometimes - she knew she always had Nick and Dirty Candi by her side, that they were true friends, but knowing that other people weren’t interested in her for the right reasons always stung. That was what made Flynn so different, so charming; she wasn’t intimidated by Carrie, she was willing to put up a fight, and she didn’t want to hang around her just to say that she did. For the most part, Flynn treated her like she treated everyone else, a normal human being.

Except for the notes. The notes, admittedly, were a downside. The worst part wasn’t that Flynn was sending these little notes, it was that Carrie couldn’t work out why. They hadn’t been friends for about a year now and had mostly stayed out of one another’s way, so she had no idea why Flynn was suddenly popping notes in her locker. She wondered if it was to get her attention - but why could Flynn possibly want that?

On a normal day, the note calling her a demon wouldn’t have been too much of a bother. Read it, ignore it, chuck it away and be done with it. But that day, after everything bad that had happened that morning, it really hurt. Carrie didn’t often cry, least of all at school where people would see her doing it, but she found herself blinking back tears that stung at her eyes, forcing herself not to let them fall.

“Hey Carrie,” came an unhelpfully chipper voice from behind her. Flynn’s voice. Because of course she chose today of all days to come and talk to Carrie. “I was just wondering if you happened to find anything in your lo— Hey, are you okay?”

Carrie rolled her eyes. She’d never been a subtle crier. If she was guessing correctly, her face was currently bright pink, her eyes glittering with tears like the sea, and she had been sniffling far too loudly for a minute straight. She wiped roughly at her eyes, trying to dispel the tears.

“Go away,” she told Flynn. “Whatever you’re here to say, I don’t care.”

Flynn looked utterly stumped, like she had no idea what to do. This was probably the opposite of what she had been prepared for - she had most likely expected to find Carrie, annoy her for a little while, unsubtly bring up the subject of the notes, and dip out again. She wouldn’t have been prepared for Carrie to be in tears.

“Do you... do you wanna talk about it?” Flynn ventured. Carrie had never heard anyone sound so uncomfortable. She shot Flynn a glare like a knife and Flynn shrugged as if to say ‘yeah, that’s fair’.

“I don’t have time for you,” Carrie spat, being nasty because right then it felt good in a bitter way. It felt right to take her anger out on Flynn. “If you’ve got something to say then spit it out and let me get on with my day.”

“Carrie...” Flynn said quietly. She might have been imagining it, but Carrie was sure she heard something resembling concern in Flynn’s tone. But it was gone as soon as it had come because a moment later Flynn had composed herself and said, “Your sweater is inside-out,” before walking down the hall, back the way she’d come.

Carrie muttered a swear under her breath and stalked off in the opposite direction.

It was the strangest thing. For about a week after that day, the notes stopped. Carrie wondered if Flynn had finally taken the hint that she wasn’t going to rise to whatever game Flynn thought she was playing. Perhaps she had finally seen it was annoying and it wasn’t a good way to get Carrie’s attention (if that was what she wanted - Carrie still had no clue why she might have). She thought that was the end of it, that they could go back to ignoring each other.

Until exactly one week after the incident, a note fluttered out of Carrie’s locker.

She frowned and picked it up. This one was already a little different to the others - the first notes had all been scrunched into untidy balls, but this one was neatly folded. Carrie cast a quick glance around the corridor, seeing if Flynn happened to be nearby. Presumably it was still her sending the notes. But there was no sign of Flynn in amongst the crowd of other students, so Carrie opened the note and read it. Then she read it again. And again. And again. And each time she read it she became more and more confused.

Smile! Today’s going to be a good day.

It didn’t make any sense. It made less sense than the unnecessary insults. Was Flynn mocking her? Had she planned something for later that would make Carrie’s day considerably less good? Was this some new form of insult that Carrie was unfamiliar with? She doubted the last idea, she was practically the queen of insults. And she couldn’t work out for the life of her how this was supposed to be mean.

And yet the idea that it was sincere was even stranger.

Still, she pocketed the note and tried to push it to the back of her mind. She tried not to let her mind linger on how weird it was that Flynn’s demeanour had so suddenly changed from cruel to encouraging. She tried to ignore the butterflies it awoke in her stomach. She simply tried to forget that Flynn had suddenly started being nice. But over the next few weeks, the nice notes kept coming and Carrie kept getting more confused.

Sending positive vibes :)

Your DC gig last night was great!

Good luck for your English exam later, you’ll kill it.

Your outfit looks amazing today!

None of it made any sense. Especially the last note - Flynn wouldn’t have even seen her outfit when she wrote the note. Carrie kept each of the kind notes because they gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling in her heart that she didn’t want to admit to, but she still was utterly clueless about what it meant.

It went on for weeks. Carrie’s birthday came around, and in her locker that morning she found a birthday card. It was filled with smiley faces and birthday best wishes and for once, unlike all the other notes, Flynn had signed it. She and Flynn hadn’t been friends properly for a year, and the idea that Flynn still remembered when her birthday was sent her mind into overdrive.

After a month or so, Carrie finally got the nerve to approach Flynn after school one day and get to the bottom of it all. It had remained a mystery for too long.

“Flynn,” she called, seeing Flynn a little way across Los Feliz’s car park, walking side by side with Julie. Both of them turned to look when Carrie shouted and she felt herself blush a little. “Wait up.”

Both girls stopped walking and let Carrie catch up with them. Julie had a smirk on her face, looking like she knew far too much. It didn’t sit well with Carrie. Flynn on the other hand looked far too casual and collected to actually be calm at all. She was smiling in that over-the-top, fake way she had been when she and Julie randomly came over to Carrie’s house that one time, seemingly just to spill water everywhere and show Carrie and Nick pictures of raccoons.

“I want to talk to you,” Carrie said, forgetting formalities and not beating around the bush.

“Okay,” Flynn replied with a shrug, “what’s up?”

“Just you,” Carrie said awkwardly. She cast a glance at Julie, half-apologetic, but Julie didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s cool,” she said dismissively. “I’ve got to get to rehearsal with the guys anyway. I’ll see you later, Flynn.”

Carrie waited for Julie to have walked far enough away so that she wouldn’t hear what they were talking about. Flynn looked awkward, shuffling about from side to side, fiddling with the strap of her bag. Carrie suddenly didn’t know what she wanted to say.

“Right,” she said, trying to sound organised and matter-of-fact, but coming across as a little bit frantic just with that one word. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a handful of the nice notes Flynn had left her, and shoved them into Flynn’s hand. “Those.”

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “What about them?”

“You’ve been leaving notes in my locker,” she began. Suddenly she felt unsure of herself despite knowing that it had to be Flynn. It was too late to back out now, so she powered through. “They started out as insults and then you stopped for a week and then they became... nice. And kind. Those are the kind ones. And you gave me a birthday card.”

“Yeah,” Flynn said, like it should have been obvious. “What’s your point?”

Carrie threw up her hands exasperatedly. “I don’t get it! Why are you doing it? What’s going on?”

Flynn had the audacity to look amused. Her little smirk, adorable as it was, just made Carrie angrier.

“I thought you’d figure it out with the first notes,” Flynn said thoughtfully. “Julie said you wouldn’t. I guess she was right. But she also said you’d get it with the nice ones, so she was wrong there at least.”

“Get what?” Carrie demanded.

“Look,” Flynn said, “I’m sorry for the mean notes. They were just a bit of fun that I didn’t think through properly. I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t realise it would upset you.”

It took Carrie far too long to realise what Flynn was talking about. She meant the day she’d found Carrie crying, and she thought it was just because of the notes.

Carrie felt her face flush and she crossed her arms over her chest. She mumbled, “It wasn’t just that. I wasn’t bothered by them that much. There was other stuff too.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” she snapped defensively. Flynn looked taken aback as if she had expected Carrie to spill everything right then and there. But after a moment or two, she seemed to regain her composure.

“That’s fine. But still, I am sorry. After you got upset I thought for a bit and decided I’d - you know - try and cheer you up. So Julie suggested I try writing you some nicer stuff. Did it work?”

Carrie rolled her eyes, but still thought back over the past few weeks. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt so... giddy. She had been excited to wake up and go to school, eager to see what message was left in her locker. And her mood had remained high throughout each day because whenever she stuck her hand in her pocket she felt that little scrap of paper with words of encouragement scribbled onto it, telling her how strong she was. And every time she thought of Flynn tucking those notes into her locker, her heart did a giddy little flip and butterflies danced in her stomach.

So yes. The notes had helped.

Suddenly the whole thing felt awkward. Carrie realised in that moment that she had come to get a crush on Flynn throughout all of this. It made her heart slam and she could hardly look Flynn in the eye. And in her momentary panic she said, “Whatever. Just stop leaving the notes. Leave me alone completely.”

And she turned on her heel and left, leaving a stunned Flynn behind her.

Carrie had never regretted anything so quickly. As soon as she arrived home, she headed upstairs to her room and tried her hardest to think of some way to undo what she had said. She didn’t want the notes to stop, she didn’t want Flynn to leave her alone. Quite the opposite. But she had said it, and now she needed it to change.

The next day, Carrie arrived at school much earlier than usual. There were only one or two other students in the hallways, talking in low bored voices or cramming in some last minute studying. None of them paid her any mind as she walked straight past them, past her own locker, and stopped outside Flynn’s. She pulled a note out of her pocket - one she had written herself - and pushed it through the locker door, hearing it drop down on the other side. She took a deep breath, smiled, and then began to wait.

She watched from a safe distance twenty minutes later when Flynn approached her locker. She looked a little downcast and dreary; Carrie prayed she didn’t have too much to do with that. But her look of gloom was soon replaced with confusion when she opened her locker and found the little folded bit of paper inside.

Flynn looked around the hallway and Carrie ducked behind a door. She was only hiding because she didn’t want Flynn to see her and decide, for whatever reason, not to read the note. When she was sure that Flynn would have turned back around, she peeked out again and watched Flynn’s mouth move as she read the words on the note.

Sorry for yesterday and thank you for everything. I really like you, Flynn. —C

She watched Flynn read the note over and over again, watched the little smile grow on her face until there was an all out grin. Carrie thanked the heavens that she had guessed right, that Flynn did feel the same way. That was why she had been doing all this - from the very start, it had been because she wanted Carrie’s attention. It was because she liked her the same way Carrie now realised she liked Flynn. Carrie thought that the fact it had worked was somewhat of a miracle.

Flynn turned Carrie’s note over to the blank side, whipped a pen out, and wrote something down. Carrie took her opportunity - she headed over to Flynn as she began to fold up the note, and she pinched it right out of her fingers triumphantly, feigning confidence to drown the unsteady beating of her nervous heart.

“Is this for me?” she asked sweetly, holding the note between two fingers for Flynn to see.

“I was gonna put it in your locker,” Flynn said.

“This is quicker,” Carrie replied dismissively.

Flynn smiled brightly as Carrie opened the note. She read it once, twice, three times, and felt her heart quicken with each word.

Go on a date with me?

Carrie looked to Flynn again, unable to hold back her smile any longer. She beamed at her and was glad to see the gesture returned. It was a beautiful sight - Flynn had a smile like the sun, in that Carrie was sure her world would revolve around it for a long time to come.

“Does this weekend work for you?”

#im half asleep so im sorry for any mistakes #jatp #julie molina #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #flynn jatp #carrie wilson #flarrie #flynn x carrie #carrie x flynn #flarrie fic #enemies to lovers #oneshot #my writing #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #first date #this could be the set up for the flarrie requests im gonna write actually!!

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koushisatori · 4 years

Text

Anniversary

First of all: If you happen to stumble across this, please cut me some slack and be gentle with me. English is not my mother tongue, and on top of that, I got rusty by procrastinating everything (literally) for the last half-year (*μ_μ) I am apologizing in advance if something is weirdly written.

This is also my first ever piece of fanfiction, so I have to get used to that to :(( So if you got ideas or anything, I’ll gladly try to fulfill your wishes to simultaneously improve my writing.

Hmm, is there anything else? I hope not, and if there is, I’ll add it !!

tendou x f!reader

genre: small bit of angst, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

note: /

__________________________________________________________

usually, your relationship with Tendou is smooth sailing, both of you decided to take the step of moving in together relatively early, exceeding the common couples limit by not only doing this barely a year into your relationship but doing so in a different country far from your family and friends

(both of you learning french together to survive a new life in an absolutely foreign country...however, the first months of grocery shopping were disastrous )

you both became a couple in your last year at Shiratorizawa, surprising absolutely....well,...no one, honestly

every person just seeing a moment of your interactions with each other would have guessed that you already were dating

Tendou and you were the embodiment of being disgustingly in love - like people see you and feel s i n g l e wanting to have what you two obviously found with the other

(SemiSemi, to this day, shudders violently thinking about how he caught you two making out in the storage room a week after Tendou finally confessed to you <3)

anyway

while Tendou followed his dream of becoming a chocolatier, you began to study - enter: stress

after finishing his required training he got a job at a high-class factory (everything his handmade and super expensive?? You’re just so lucky to be his better half and get to taste his creations for free)

they value his skills and invest in him to become better, but that also means that his time for you shrank even more

you understood that, of course, and it's not like you didn’t spend a lot of your times crouching over books either with being close to receiving your first degree

in general, your fights are stressed-induced, and as quickly forgotten as they came up bc...let’s not beat around the bush, both of you are shit at staying mad at the other, especially if it means cutting short the already sparse time you currently have <3

they’re usually about petty stuff, too

recently though it happens more regularly and they ever so slowly started to border on painful

he stays at work for longer to perfect his already otherworldly skills; and your patience is running thin with all the deadlines and exams putting immense pressure on you

both of you are just so unsatisfied and stressed and...so fucking tired

it’s always forgivable though

you don’t mind planned dinner dates turning into movie nights with him falling asleep on you after what feels like seconds

because he’s there, pressing his face into your side or stomach hard enough for you to wonder if he’s trying to suffocate himself, while his long arms are around your waist holding onto you as if his life depends on it

he doesn’t mind being splayed across your lap watching the latest episodes of his series while you type away on your laptop, even though you were supposed to enjoy a nice weekend lazying in front of the tv with him

a forgotten date hasn’t killed you yet as well, but the amount of times it was currently happening allowed insecurities to have their way with you

both of you always make up for it one way or another (leaving an apology breakfast or even taking it to bed, buying flowers, sharing the sweet kisses you were supposed to enjoy the night before,...)

but this time, he didn’t just forget to be on time for any date.

he completely missed your anniversary

you spend the whole afternoon cooking his favorite dish for dinner, making yourself all pretty for him, wearing the jewelry he got you for your birthday, it was some kind of tradition by now

just to be stood up, dinner turning cold and your mood sour

no message, no callback

around 11pm he - finally ! - gets in touch with you

‘‘(Y/N)!! Bunny, did something happen? Did you miss me so much?’’

you could hear the dopey grin he was wearing while teasing you, one you usually loved, one that was contagious

but it didn’t help the pain and disappointment nesting in your heart, right now

he really didn’t remember

was the date so insignificant to him? were you no longer a priority?

you swallow around the lump in your throat, desperately begging your brain to not amplify your insecurities even more

‘’No...it’s...it’s alright, I just wanted to know when you’re home...’’ your attempt to keep the doubts and pain you experienced that second hidden was pointless, because even on the phone, your boyfriend was able to look right through you

‘‘Bunny what’s wrong?’’ he asks worriedly

normally you’d say that it was alright, that you’d speak later or directly say what was bugging you so terribly

this time...you didn’t feel like talking or maybe even fighting, scared that he might confirm your thoughts and leave you

‘’It’s nothing, Tendou,...’’ you hear him wince, you can’t remember the last time you called him that ’’don’t bother with me if it’s not as important to you.’’

‘‘Not as...’’ a moment of silence follows, in which he checked the date and, lastly, Tendou understood ‘’Oh. Oh shit, (Y/N),...Bunny, please, wait for me, please, let me explain...’‘

It’s not the answer you wanted (on the other hand, what answer would that be?)

‘‘I waited...and I’m tired,’‘ you add without thinking, hanging up before he even got the chance to answer

while you don’t want things to end...you can’t help but think ‘what if?’ - that thought alone though is enough for the dams to burst

With a soft groan, you blink your burning eyes open, noticing your spine protesting and pop from the uncomfortable position you fell asleep in. A glance at the alarm clock elicited another tired groan, the 4 on display mocking you.

The burning and overall sluggish feeling controlling your body immediately reminded you of the things that had taken place. That his scent surrounding you arose solely due to his pillow in which you had pressed your face.

While you obviously weren’t on the best of terms right now, a small part of you was still hopeful and reached out across the bed in search for the warmth your red-haired better half usually provided. Unsurprisingly, your hand met a cold bed half.

An annoyed sigh later, you sat up and rubbed over your eyes angrily. You were hurt, which should be understandable, but remembering his overly happy tone even with evident tiredness underlaying it, you guessed that he didn’t stay behind on purpose and that, maybe, something good had happened. So to say, you as well behaved like an idiot.

Suddenly, you remember the last sentence you said. Realizing what it implied, you felt like banging your head against the wall. You wanted to be understood by him. What you didn’t want was to give Satori the time to allow his anxious tendencies to fester while he was alone, foregoing untrue, negative ideas. The fact that he still wasn’t in bed with you, was proof enough which lead to you cursing out loud.

While your last words towards him told something differently, you surely didn’t want to leave him or him to leave you. Both of you could work things out, you always did, and…well, you always hoped that it would stay that way until you had lived a fulfilling life as a couple, with grey hair and wrinkles taking your last breath together wherever life would lead the two of you.

The simple solution was to communicate like the grown adults you are.

Determined to talk through it the way you should have done earlier and maybe...just maybe get some cuddles afterward, you swung your legs out from under the blankets. After you quickly put on some warm, worn-out socks, you quietly leave the bedroom and tip-toe through the hallway.

You expected the apartment to be silent, to be dark. What you didn’t expect is the soft light coming from your shared kitchen. Or the clinking noises of bowls and pots colliding lightly, lowly muttered, sleepy curses, and even quieter sniffles interrupting the barrage of words from time to time.

Upon hearing those little sounds - no doubt coming from your anxious boyfriend - your heart clenched painfully in your chest. This is your injudicious doing. Straightening your back, you stepped into the kitchen, slightly squinting against the much harsher ceiling lights assaulting your eyes.

The original plan was to offer a heartfelt apology, and follow it up by an honest declaration of love and the proposal to talk about everything. There were a lot of things that needed to be cleared up between you and Tendou. But after entering the kitchen, you came to an abrupt halt.

Your eyes wandered, lingering on cuts, burns, and blisters that blemished your boyfriends' pretty fingers. Slowly, your gaze continued to move up his arms and shoulders, tensed and screaming out his fear of losing you. For a moment, you hesitated, but you eventually lifted your gaze to meet his wide eyes, as red-rimmed and puffy as yours. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Normally, you would find it adorable and stretch your hands out to cup his cheeks (not to pull him down, definitely not) and press a kiss to his lips...but right now? You really just felt like crying, seeing your Satori so heartbroken over something you said carelessly in the heat of the moment.

Suddenly wincing, Tendou quickly pulls back his hand to his chest away from the hot stove. Yet, he did not dare to break eye contact with you. Seemingly afraid that what he currently saw is nothing but a sleep-deprivation induced hallucination. That you would just vanish if he so much dared to even think of blinking.

The stupor rooting you to the spot though vanished in favor of closing the gap between the two of you to help him.

‘‘Tori...’‘ you croaked worriedly, eyes flickering down to his hands and back up to his watery, sad eyes. ‘‘I’m so sorry,’’ you whispered. Any louder and your voice might break. ’’...let me take care of you.’‘

You turned off the stove before you gently tugged Tendou behind you to the bathroom. Making him sit on the edge of the small tub, you gathered everything you needed to patch him up with rehearsed movements.

For a while, both of you were silent.

You carefully worked on disinfecting cuts and putting special creams on the different wounds and burns, while not hurting him any further. Concentrating on ignoring the thick tension of untold apologies, and fear. Doubt weighing heavy on the two of you.

Meanwhile, Tendou couldn't help but admire your features. Your soft hair - faintly smelling like peaches and anis - falling into your face, hiding away your pretty (Y/E/C) eyes. He loved to get lost in them. Or how your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration and the little scrunch of your nose when you thought that you could have done better.

Even in this hazy state of mind, he knew for certain that he would try to hold onto you for as long as possible. That he would do anything to make you forgive him.

After you finished gently wrapping band-aids (silly ones with colorful patterns just the way you both love) around his fingers, on his palm, and back of his hand, he quickly moved them to hold onto yours.

‘‘Don’t leave me.’‘ Tendou's voice is just above a whisper, and if you wouldn't have been that close to him as you were, you would have missed it. But you could hear him, and your eyes immediately met his, filling with tears all over again.

‘‘Satori, I’m-’‘

‘‘(Y/N), please...please, don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. Of course, I care. Our relationship, you...nothing’s as important to me as you are. It was the only thing keeping me sane that last week. I don't know why I forgot about it. I truly feel horrible.'' he started. ''Please, believe me. I love you so, so much. I...I can’t imagine a life without you. I don’t want to.’’ Even with his voice quivering, it was crystal clear just how serious his words were to him.

He needed to get it out in the open. There was no way in hell that he would allow any doubts about your relationship to fester in your mind.

‘’I was held back to talk about the upcoming Christmas preparations that I’m supposed to be leading this year, and then I was called into the boss’ office and I couldn’t check my phone,’‘ the desperation to explain still evident, Tendou resorted to rambling about the happenings of the day.

‘‘I’m sorry for hurting you, but Bunny, I beg you...I know that we haven't had enough time those last weeks, that we didn't have any if we’re honest. I understand that you must feel neglected. I will change that, give me a chance to make you forgive me, please.’‘

It wasn’t like you wanted to cry again, but the tears rolling down your cheeks seemed to have a mind on their own. ‘’ ‘Tori...’’ you sniffled, your voice breaking away at the last syllable. ‘’Can I hug you?’’

The relief on his face spoke volumes, and before you even got the chance to make good on your words, he already stands tall in front of you, enveloping you tightly.

Securely wrapped up in Satoris’ arms, you feel like coming home after months away. Or like taking in the first gasp of fresh air after holding your breath underwater for too long. With Tendou holding onto you like this, you found the strength to answer.

''I'm sorry, too...I love you so much, and...I know you always have a reason, and it was childish to hang up on you and leave you worrying alone instead of talking to you. And...if you neglected me those last weeks, then I did the same. We both were too busy for each other...''

After a short pause, you ask: ''B-but we can work it out, right?’’ Slowly, you looked up to him. ‘’I want to spend my life with you, Satori. Don’t listen to dumb me 5 hours earlier. 5-hours-ago-me was so stupid, and petty, and does not reflect my true wishes,’’ you added. ’’No one of our old friends wanted to put up with me the last week because I’m so head over heels in love with you and all I do is tell them ‘’You should have seen what Tori did for me’’ and what I plan to do for you...I can feel them roll their eyes from the other side of the world!’’

Suddenly aware of your very honest words, you pushed your face against his chest to hide your burning cheeks. Embarrassment painting them in a pretty hue of pink.

Tendou hadn't realized that he had actually held his breath listening to your words until he chuckled a bit breathlessly. The remaining tension possessing both of your bodies faded away after that, allowing you to relish in the feeling of having the other in your arms again.

After a while, you bravely gazed up at him again, even with your cheeks still set ablaze. ''Come to bed?'' And with a sweet smile, one that reached his eyes and made your heart stutter, he nodded.

Things between the two of you weren't ideal quite yet, Tendou kknew that much. But they would be. Tomorrow would be a new day. You would hopefully agree to celebrate your anniversary a day later. He hoped, that you would agree to spend it with him from the first second you woke up to the very last before you fell asleep. You will hopefully enjoy the news that his promotion was topped with holidays that allowed you to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with your families in Japan.

He also hoped for you to say yes when, surrounded by your friends, he would ask you to marry him under the Cherry Blossoms in spring.

Things weren't quite ideal, but watching your peaceful expression while sleeping on his chest, he knew, all the up and downs were worth powering through. He would embrace every hardship if that meant keeping you by his side forever.

#Haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #is this a headcanon? idk but I'll tag it like that for now until I know better #haikyuu headcanons #Shiratorizawa x reader #Tendou x reader #Haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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and-it-freezes-me · 3 years

Text

Accidents Happen - To Pieces

Summary: Roman, feeling himself coming undone at the edges, continues to dig. Almost everything that could go wrong, does.

Content: Discussion of drugs, fainting, (brief) discussion of disordered eating, alcohol use, discussions of bad parenting

Word count: 7,188

{Part 3} {Part 5}

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Three days. They were going to meet outside Janus’ house at around four on Friday, and it was now eight on Wednesday morning. So… Forty-eight hours until eight on Friday, and then eight hours until they met up, and add another hour to actually put his plan into motion… Fifty-seven hours was almost too long for Roman to wait to get to the truth.

But he did it anyway, because this was the plan he had made, and because he couldn’t risk Janus getting suspicious and hurting Remus again.

When he got to school on Wednesday, Janus was waiting outside his locker for him, and Roman had to fight down the urge to sink his fist into his jaw. He’d aim for the scarred side, knowing it would hurt more, watch Janus stumble back, hands flying to his face… He didn’t. Instead he greeted him, smiled at him, and went over a few flashcards for their calculus exam that afternoon.

He begged off their lunchtime revision session, though.

Instead of going to the library, he went to find Virgil. There had to be more he could find out about Janus, about whatever he had on Remus, and the odds were that the caffeine-fueled senior would know more than he had told Roman in the first place. It would be hard to keep his reputation as the all-knowing man of mystery if he just gave away all of his secrets as soon as somebody said please.

Virgil was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of one of the benches outside the back of the school when Roman found him, his head in Patton’s lap, allowing the other boy to braid small plaits into his dress-code-breaking purple hair. They were both giggling, and Roman almost felt bad about interrupting their private bubble of sunlight with his approach - then he realised that there was so much bad inside of him already that he couldn’t fit any more in. He stopped in front of Virgil, waited until his dark eyes broke away from Patton’s broad grin, and then cleared his throat. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “How can you possibly want more from me? I gave you everything I had on Janus…”

Patton made a scandalised noise, and tugged sharply on the plait he was working on. “Verge! You said you’d stop dealing secrets!”

“Ow, Pat, I lied, alright? Lay off…” Virgil winced and rubbed the side of his head, and a look that Roman couldn’t decipher passed between them. Then Patton sighed, nodded, and returned to playing with Virgil’s hair. There were three flowers in it, and Roman was certain that Virgil didn’t know they were there.

He cleared his throat again, licked his lower lip, and debated joining Virgil on the floor. “I think you have more.”

“Do you.” It wasn’t a question, and Virgil’s voice was flat. Patton’s eyes moved slowly between the two of them.

“You know everything about everyone.”

“I’m flattered, but we all know that’s not entirely true,” Virgil responded, sounding almost bored. He was doing a very good impersonation of his elder brother - and Roman hoped, for the hundredth time, that he didn’t know that Remy was dealing again.

“Fine. Tell me about Remus.”

Roman hadn’t realised that it was an order until Patton frowned up at him, his golden curls falling into his uncomfortably inquisitive blue eyes. “Manners, Roman. If you can’t be polite, you’re not getting anything.” Virgil just shrugged when Roman looked at him.

Roman resisted the urge to snap at Patton to shut up, to mock Virgil for letting his bit on the side try to run business for him, and wondered when he had become villainous enough to think like that. He swallowed and nodded once. “Sorry, Patton, Virgil. Please, tell me about Remus?”

They both considered him for a long second. Finally Patton nodded, apparently satisfied, and pushed his glasses back up his button nose before returning to Virgil’s hair. The information broker, on the other hand, gave no such quarter. “No.”

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“No. I’m not informing on your brother to you.” Roman felt as though he had been reduced to merely staring at people in mute shock more times in the last week than ever before. Virgil rolled his eyes and leaned his head back into Patton’s lap again. “You could have asked him anything you wanted, any time you wanted, and you didn’t.”

“Then…” Roman cast around desperately. He should just cut to the chase. Shifting from one foot to the other, he licked his lower lip, struggling to meet Virgil’s gaze. “Then… Tell me what Janus has been blackmailing him with. ...Please,” he added, because Patton’s stern gaze was on him again.

The expression on Virgil’s face was something like pity, but moved his head a tiny distance from left to right and then back again, as much as a shake as he could manage with Patton curling his hair around his fingers. “No. If you’d have given a shit about Remus before he ended up in prison, you’d have spoken to him before. I’m not telling you anything else. Patton, are you braiding flowers in-”

“I’ll tell Logan you’re cheating on them.”

A haze of anger had descended on Roman’s vision, and he had blurted the words out before he had properly thought them through, before he could jerk them back into his skull and bury them with the rest of his mealy, maggoty, un-Prince-like thoughts.

It felt as though time had stopped. Virgil had paused mid-sentence, Patton’s hands had frozen mid-way through trying to sneak a daisy into the plait he was working on. The sound of shouting from the front of the school had stopped; even the wind had ceased to blow. The couple in front of him looked very briefly confused - and then Virgil’s expression changed to one of absolute disgust, whilst Patton’s became merely disappointed. Very disappointed. Roman discovered that he could manage to feel bad about something else, after all.

He was stepping backward, already trying to find a hole in which to curl up and die, when Virgil’s hand shot out and fastened around his lucky red sash, dragging Roman down so that they were face to face.

“For your information,” Virgil began, drawing the words out so that Roman could feel the disdain and anger in every syllable, “Logan is fully involved in our relationship with Patton.”

Another second of horrible, itching silence. Roman risked a glance at Patton, and found that he was refusing to meet his eyes. Then Virgil shook him once and, when he was sure that he had his attention again, continued speaking, his words deliberate, furious, cold.

“I never thought you would stoop this low. Remus might be unpredictable, sometimes dangerous, but you’re even worse, aren’t you?”

Roman shook his head desperately. “I - no! I -”

“No? Nothing gets in the way of your goals, Roman. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed. Not your friendships, not your morals, not even your own twin about whom you care so very much. Do you want to know the difference between you and Remus, Roman?”

Roman shook his head faster, and Virgil tugged him close enough that he could feel his breath on his cheek.

“Remus hurts people. You don’t even see your victims as people - you see them as obstacles in the way of your perfect, shining life. Remus knows what he’s done, what he does, and you? You have no idea what you do to the people around you. You pretend to be the hero, you’ve managed to delude yourself into believing that you’re the hero - Remus accepts that he’s human, while you think you’re some kind of god. You’re not.” Virgil was surprisingly strong. Roman was trying frantically to tug his sash out of his black-nailed grip but to no avail. “You’re so full of self-righteousness you can’t even see that people can make mistakes without being monsters - and you can’t see yourself turning into one, either.”

He released him with the air of one dropping a particularly filthy sock into a laundry basket, and Roman stumbled backward, panting. “Hasn’t your family hurt me and my dates enough? Get out of here.”

Roman didn’t need telling twice.

He considered saying he was sick to get out of school on Thursday. It wasn’t entirely untrue: after his confrontation with Virgil, Roman had found himself hurling what little lunch he had managed to eat into one of the toilets near the sports hall; a similar thing had occurred later, after dinner, when he had started trying to think through what Virgil had said. Skipping breakfast seemed like the safest thing to do in light of all of that.

In the end, he knew he couldn’t skip. Not really. He had two more exams that day, and if he missed them his grades would tank. He couldn’t let that happen. Not on top of everything else going on.

Roman had thought that he and Virgil were still friends, even if they didn’t talk much anymore. Well, obviously they weren’t now, but… He hadn’t realised that he had hurt Virgil that much. He had thought they had just drifted apart halfway through middle school the way people do, because they have different interests - but apparently that had not been the case from Virgil’s point of view. So what if he had missed a few calls from him, skipped a few invitations to hang out? They had stopped talking properly some time after Virgil came back to school - he had been off for a few weeks toward the start of eighth grade. Virgil had always passed it off as no big deal.

Remus had always passed everything off as no big deal, too.

This time it was only bile that rose in Roman’s throat, and he swallowed it away. He could fix the mess between him and Virgil once he had figured out how to save Remus and ensured that Janus met his downfall.

He tried to speak to Logan as they filed out of their history exam that morning, but they just scowled at him. Clearly, Virgil had told them what had happened.

Janus was happy to talk to him, though. Janus was happy to talk to him, to sit with him, to talk and talk and talk at him, until Roman wanted to wring his stupidly graceful neck. Instead he just smiled, nodded, gave absent half-answers where he thought they were appropriate.

“There was a greater focus on The Great Depression in that exam than I was expecting, you know?” Janus asked as they sat down on the grass outside.

“I guess so,” Roman murmured, pulling out his lunchbox and his revision notes.

“Depressing, if you’ll excuse the easy pun.” Roman didn’t chuckle.

“You don’t eat much lately,” Janus commented, putting a gloved hand on Roman’s wrist as he closed the lid on his practically untouched egg rolls.

“Not hungry,” Roman muttered.

“Hm,” Janus responded. He squeezed Roman’s forearm briefly before pulling away.

“You seem distracted today. Everything alright?” Janus pressed. They were packing up to go to their afternoon exam.

“Yeah, just stressed,” was Roman’s automatic answer.

“We still good for tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes.” It was the most emphatic answer Roman had given all day, and Janus looked pleased.

Snake.

Roman passed out halfway through his biology exam on Friday morning.

It had been hot in the exam hall, even more so than it had been on Monday, and Roman found that he had emptied his water bottle within half an hour of the exam starting. The words on the paper before him had blurred again, had straightened out when he had blinked, and then blurred again. It took until his pen caught on the paper and sent a spray of ink over his desk that he realised that his hands were shaking, and once he noticed, he couldn’t make them stop. He couldn’t control his own handwriting, either: no matter how many times he blinked at it, how many times he rubbed a hand over his face and pressed his knuckles into his eyes until he saw stars, it seemed determined to quiver in place before scuttling over the lines of his paper, their spider-like scurrying taking on Virgil’s voice. Monster, they said, villain.

His throat felt like a desert, tumbleweeds blowing across his tongue, and his water bottle was empty. Roman’s chair made an unnaturally loud scraping sound as he pushed it back; he could feel eyes turning toward him, burning holes in the back of his neck. Small black spots appeared in his vision as he stood to walk to the water cooler at the front of the hall, and although he squeezed his eyes shut tight before taking a step, they didn’t go away. They danced around the corners of his vision as he started moving between desks, keeping his eyes fixed on the clock on the front wall. How much time was he wasting here?

He didn’t realise he had stopped walking until his professor’s face swam into focus in front of him, her mouth moving. Roman had no idea what she was saying - it was as though he was underwater, with her swaying in front of him, sound bubbling past his ears in unintelligible blobs. Raising his hands, he tried to show her his water bottle, hoping he could get his message across, and then realised that his hands were empty. Had he dropped it? Or was it still back at his desk?

Roman tried to turn around to check, and that was when he felt his legs give out beneath him. He didn’t have time to worry about the ground rushing up toward him, though: it disappeared into a dark fog before it got too close.

The next thing he saw was Janus, haloed in a soft, bronze light and gazing at him in concern. Roman’s head throbbed dully: he went to raise a hand to rub it, and realised that he was lying on his back, head resting on something soft.

Janus was saying something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. It looked as though he was arguing with someone: he was waving one hand the way he did when he was talking passionately about something. Where was his other hand? Usually both were involved in this dance - oh. There it was, running through Roman’s hair. He could feel his fingertips pressing lightly against his scalp.

Roman suddenly realised that his head was in Janus’ lap.

That was when sound returned to his surroundings.

“- be his choice!” That was Janus.

“He could have a concussion! This isn’t up for debate, Mr. Sinclaire.” Who was that? A teacher?

“He doesn’t have a concussion, Ma’am -” The emphasis in Janus’ voice said that he was seconds away from calling the teacher something far less complimentary. “- and you know that because you saw me catch him. He just needs to get outside.”

Roman blinked, and Janus’ fingers hesitated in his hair, then rubbed a gentle circle just behind one ear.

“His parents need to be called, at least. I don’t know if you missed it, Sinclaire, but Mr. Wang just collapsed.”

Roman sat up slowly, feeling the room swim around him, and was braced by an arm slipping under his shoulders to support him.

The irritation was even clearer in Janus’ voice now. “How could I have missed it? I caught him, while you just stood there and watched. Roman is an adult, meaning that it is his decision who should or should not be informed, and given that he recovered consciousness within five minutes, basic health training states that he should only be taken to hospital if he faints again, or begins acting unusually. So how about we ask him, hm?”

It was Janus’ arm supporting him, Roman realised. Their teacher was just staring at him, and it occurred to him that he was supposed to say something now. He licked his lower lip anxiously. “I… I’m fine. Don’t call them. Just need to finish my paper…” Roman tried to pull away from Janus to stand up, stumbled, and found himself grateful for the fact that Janus rose with him and caught him again.

Both he and the teacher were shaking their heads now. “Ro, don’t be stupid. You need a-”

“Mr. Wang, don’t worry about the paper. ”

“Come on. We’re heading outside, Ro. We can come back to discuss making up the paper later.” Janus was draping one of Roman’s arms over his own shoulders to help himself support him.

Roman nodded slowly. He didn’t really feel good about walking out, but the idea of going back to his paper wasn’t a particularly pleasant one either. Besides, he had a feeling that neither Janus nor Miss Fox were about to let him do that.

It wasn’t until Janus started guiding him toward the fire door that he realised that everybody else was still sat in their seats, most of them staring at him. Janus appeared to notice him noticing, because the arm around his waist squeezed his side briefly and he murmured, “Hey. Focus on getting out of here, alright? Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Okay,” he muttered back.

Janus guided him out of the sports hall, grabbing both Roman’s backpack and his satchel from the heap by the door. Roman blinked in the bright morning sunlight. It felt as though he had been in the exam hall for hours, days, through the heat-death of the universe - not less than an hour, assuming Janus had been right about him only passing out for a few minutes.

A thought occurred to Roman then, and he frowned. Having checked the seating arrangements earlier that morning, he knew for a fact that Janus’ seat had been somewhere behind his: it didn’t make any sense for him to have caught him. He’d have had to practically teleport across half the hall to be there on time. He said as much. “Did you really catch me? How were you right there? You should’a been on the other side of the hall.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Janus’ mouth. “After you got up and stumbled halfway up to the front, then just stood and swayed at Fox? There was obviously something wrong. And all she could do was ask you what you were doing and if you could return to your seat. You could have been seriously injured if she’d have just let you fall and crack your head on a desk on the way down. The incompetence.” He scoffed, and Roman’s mind boggled at the fact that he had just been rescued by the villain he was trying to bring down. Janus seemed to be thinking along similar lines, because as he maneuvered the two of them around the bins at the back of the sports hall, he commented, “Always thought it would be you catching me as I swooned, not the other way around. Funny how these things work out, huh?”

“So you abandoned your paper because I walked across a room? Where are we going, anyway?” Roman was fairly sure that he could walk on his own now, but there was something comforting about leaning against Janus. It was the physical contact, of course - Roman wasn’t entirely sure of the last time he had hugged somebody - not the fact that it was Janus with an arm around his waist.

“The bench behind the science block. That alright?” Janus waited until Roman had nodded before continuing. “And no, not just because of that. Virgil texted me on Wednesday, said all the evidence pointed toward you having a slow-mo breakdown - his words - and that I should keep an eye on you. Sit.”

Roman sat. What else had Virgil said? Did Janus know he was onto him? He wouldn’t blame Virgil if he had gone and spilled all the beans - a spider couldn’t be expected to keep its secrets for long. What good was an intricately crafted web with nobody there to marvel at it?

But Janus didn’t look mad. He was digging through his backpack, and after a second he tossed something into Roman’s lap before sitting down beside him. “Eat.”

“What?” Roman picked up the thing Janus had thrown at him. It was a sandwich, sealed in a reusable plastic bag. Red jam was oozing out from its edges. He swallowed. “This is your lunch. I’m not eating your lunch.”

“Well, you’re not eating your lunch, so you’re going to eat this.” The response had been immediate, brisk; Janus looked a little guilty, and took a deep breath before continuing in a much more gentle tone. “And it’s not my lunch. I’ve been making an extra sandwich every day in case you needed it. And you obviously do.”

Roman considered arguing, but decided against it. There was probably poison hidden between the brown bread. He opened the bag and pulled out the sandwich, then nibbled quietly at one corner.

Janus wasn’t touching him anymore. Roman wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or frustrated. No, he was - he should be grateful. He didn’t want to touch his nemesis any more than he had to to keep up the act. The little thing inside that was begging for Janus to hug him again was just the part of him that was so desperate for affection that even a monster would do.

“Roman, are you… Alright?” The brunet sounded tentative, as though he were afraid to upset him by asking, but as though the question really mattered to him. Yet again, Roman reflected upon how good an actor Janus had turned out to be.

He swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Fine. Tip-top. Never better. Why’d you ask?”

Janus gave him what could only be described as a look, and started counting on his fingers. “Let’s see… You just passed out halfway through an exam, Virgil’s concerned enough about you to actually ask me to keep an eye on you; unnecessary because I was doing that already because, oh yes, your twin brother is in prison for grievous bodily harm, and you’ve gone from being slender to being positively skin and bones in less than two months.” It looked as though Janus wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.

There was jam on his fingers. It was sticking to his skin in stains almost the colour of blood, and Roman stared at the last bite of sandwich in his hand for a few seconds before popping into his mouth and sucking his fingers. Demons and monsters drank blood as though it were lemonade, right? And according to his inner compass, he was well on the way to becoming one of them. According to Virgil, he was already a monster.

“Drink.” Janus handed him a water bottle, and Roman obeyed. “I’m just worried about you, Princey. I’m your friend - possibly your only friend, given the fact that I’ve never seen you actually hang out with anybody else - and I don’t want to watch you burn away.”

“I’m… Just stressed.” Roman offered finally. Janus just looked at him, face open, and Roman was struck by the urge to tell him everything. He didn’t. “It’s been rough not having Remus around. I mean, I know he’s a monster, ‘n all,” he hurried to clarify, eyes landing on the burn tissue around Janus’ bad eye, “but… Home’s different without him.”

It looked as though Janus wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, his throat bobbed as he swallowed and winced, but in the end he just rested a hand on Roman’s knee and squeezed it. “I think you should go home. Get some rest. Sitting Geometry this afternoon isn’t going to-”

“I’m not going home. I - It’s just one more exam, plus whatever I need to do to make up Bio. I’m not failing just because-”

“Just because you worked yourself to the point of collapse?” Janus took his empty bottle back from Roman and returned it to his backpack, ignoring the scowl Roman gave him. “Fine. But only if you eat lunch today. I’m sitting with you, and if you don’t finish, I’m skipping this afternoon to take you home.”

“My dad will be home. It’s his day off.”

“I never specified whose home.”

Roman let out a grunt of frustration and pressed his face into his hands, and Janus squeezed his knee again. Roman wished he would stop. Not the knee-squeezing in particular - all of it. The lying. The pretending to be Roman’s friend when he had blackmailed Remus into prison. The pretending to care when he was just looking for a way into Roman’s head, a way to destroy him as well. It was difficult to believe that the boy sitting next to him, the one that had helped him out of the exam hall and had had a panic attack because his sleeve had caught fire, was the same person as the man that Remus was so clearly scared of.

If Janus kept this up, Roman was scared that he’d forget who the villain was altogether. He needed to finish this, and soon.

“Okay. Deal, whatever. Can we still hang out this afternoon?”

Janus looked incredulous, and the expression brought a faint smile to Roman’s wan face. “You still want to hike through the woods after this?”

“Yes. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” It wasn’t a lie.

“I… Okay. But only if you eat everything, and you don’t pass out again in Geometry. And if you start getting dizzy while we’re walking, we’re going back to mine to watch TV. My parents are going out of town for the weekend.”

Roman opened his mouth to argue, but the firm stare Janus gave him clearly said that there was no point. He stared him down until Roman finally nodded.

He ate his lunch while Janus quizzed him on formulae for the exam that afternoon. When he was done, Janus handed him a raisin biscuit; when he looked at him in askance, the other shrugged and said, “I heard that squashed flies are lucky in some parts of the world.”

They met outside Roman’s house at four, Roman squinting in the summer sun, Janus sporting a large pair of sunglasses. Janus was also carrying his satchel, and when Roman asked what was in it, he opened it to reveal two bottles of water and another blood sandwich. Smart.

The clear plastic bag that had gotten Remus kicked out of the house was in Roman’s back pocket, but he didn’t mention it yet.

Roman tried to ignore the anxious glances Janus gave him every few minutes as they walked into the trees, as though he was expecting him to just keel over any second. He withstood a full ten minutes of silence and furtive looks before finally speaking up. “I’m not going to, you know.”

Janus noticeably startled - or pretended to, at any rate - and then gave Roman a thoroughly unconvincing look of surprised innocence. “Not going to what?”

“Collapse again. I’m not going to, so you can quit watching me like I will.” Roman picked up the pace a little.

“I’m not watching you as though you’re about to collapse,” Janus protested, walking faster to keep up with Roman. How annoying.

“You are. You keep looking at me, and your forehead goes all scrunched, like somebody’s planning on planting root vegetables in it.”

Janus made an exasperated noise, and Roman glanced briefly over his shoulder to see him tugging at the cuffs of his gloves and then adjusting his beanie. Why was he still wearing that thing? Wasn’t he roasting?

“Fine, I was watching you. It’s scary, alright? Watching someone you care about just crumple up like that.” Roman deliberately ignored the fact that Janus was trying to imply that he cared about him. Actually, he internally scoffed at the words. Janus had been rather heavy-handed with the beguiling today, first stroking his hair and saying they were friends, and now saying he cared about him. Not at all up to his usual subtle standard.

The repeatedly exaggerated care was making Roman irritable and snappy. "It won't happen again. I'm not fragile."

"I know you're not, R- Roman." Janus sighed. "Sorry." And that managed to make Roman feel even worse, even though he knew that Janus was just trying to manipulate him further.

"Whatever," he snapped, speeding up again until he was moving at a run.

Janus kept pace with him without complaint, even though Roman could hear his breathing becoming more and more laboured as they headed deeper into the forest. By the time they stopped in a small clearing by a stream, he was gasping for breath.

"It's nice here," Roman said gruffly, and Janus doubled over, his ragged inhalations the only sound in the quiet space.

It took approximately three seconds for Roman to stop feeling some perverse satisfaction over having managed to make Janus suffer, and to start feeling guilty. He didn’t want to feel guilty, of course - but it wasn’t something he could help.

Taking the three steps back toward him, he took Janus gently by the arm and guided him to a large rock, where he sat, wheezing. “Sorry,” Roman murmured. Flipping Janus’ satchel open, he pulled out one of the water bottles and opened it, then handed it over and watched Janus take a few small sips.

It was a few minutes before Roman was able to hear birdsong over Janus’ gradually slowing breaths, and a while after that before Janus cleared his throat - it sounded painful - and returned the water bottle to his bag. He offered Roman a nervous smile. “If you were trying to turn my lungs to mush, Princey, you’ve had quite a good go…”

“Sorry,” Roman muttered again, and this time he accepted the apology with a nod and a wave of one gloved hand.

“You’re forgiven. It’s not your fault, really.”

“It’s Remus’?” Maybe Roman sounded a little overeager in pushing for more information, because Janus gave him an undecipherable look.

“I was going to say that it was mine. I could have just stayed walking at a sustainable pace.”

“Well, I’m flattered you tried to keep up,” Roman made himself chuckle, pressing one hand against his chest. Janus wouldn’t have let him run off on his own: the other had made it quite clear that he thought he was about to faint in the middle of the forest and be eaten by rats if he wasn’t around.

This time, the look Janus gave him was like the surface of a hot spring: placid on the surface, but Roman could tell that there was something simmering below.

The thought occurred to him that maybe Janus had allowed himself to be dragged into the middle of the woods because the trees and lack of witnesses would give him ample opportunity to reveal whatever heinous thing he had done to Remus, and that he had enough material to blackmail Roman into driving a second car into a pole if he wanted him to. Clearing his throat, Roman took a step back (he had been hovering in front of Janus like a wrong-doing child waiting for a telling-off) and then waved a hand at the trees. “You know, I come out here a lot.”

“You do, huh?” A slightly teasing tone had entered Janus’ voice, and he was smirking despite still being red in the face. Some strands of his brown hair had fallen across his eyes, and he reached up to tuck them under his hat. “Never would have guessed, what with the way you were so tentative about bringing us out to this charming clearing.”

Roman allowed himself to pause, tilt his head, chuckle as natural a chuckle as he could manage, and then continued. “Yeah. It’s peaceful out here, y’know? Relaxing.”

He glanced back at Janus to see that he had stretched out with his back against the rock - like a snake, basking in the sun, waiting for its moment to strike. “It’s certainly very calm when I’m not puffing like a steam train…”

“It’s pretty private, too.” Roman moved closer to him and, ignoring every instinct that warned him that getting closer to a viper was a horrible idea, sat down to lean against the rock as well. “A good place to think, or spend some time alone, or…”

“Yeah?” There was a nervous, softly excited note in his companion’s voice now (how was Janus so good at controlling himself? It just wasn’t fair), and when Roman looked at him out of the corner of his eye he saw that the late-afternoon sunlight was turning Janus’ tanned skin golden. He should be framed and hung in an art gallery, he mused privately.

Or framed and hung for as punishment for his crimes.

“It’s a nice place to smoke a bit.”

Surprise flickered over Janus’ features - genuine surprise, cracking through the carefully built mask. “You smoke?”

“Ah! No,” Roman pulled the bag from his pocket and waved it, hurrying to clear up the misunderstanding. “It’s just weed. Not cigarettes. Those things kill. And smell gross.”

“Yeah. My dad smokes. It’s a disgusting habit…” Janus closed his eyes briefly, tilting his face to the sky. From where he was sitting, on Janus’ right, Roman couldn’t see the scarred side of his face. It was possible to believe that Janus had never gotten involved in the crash that had ignited his life as though it were a field of grass.

“Mine used to,” he agreed, hands already working to roll two joints into shape and pulling Remus’ keychain from his other pocket. He offered one to Janus, who raised an eyebrow slowly at him.

“Are you actively trying to kill me, Wang?” Roman blinked, and Janus waved an exasperated hand in the direction of his throat. “Given the smoke damage, I don’t plan on inhaling anything other than oxygen for a very long time.”

Roman blinked again. He hadn’t thought of that. His dumbfounded expression must show on his face, because Janus’ expression softened again. “Don’t worry. I had a feeling you’d be planning something like this, so I came prepared with my own refreshments.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out a metal flask that Roman hadn’t seen when he had grabbed the water bottle.

“A proper boy scout,” Roman commented, and they both chuckled, Janus out of amusement, Roman out of relief. If Janus was going to help, then getting him to talk was going to be even easier than he had expected. He returned both joints to the ziploc bag and stuffed it back into his pocket, but didn’t put the keys and their attached lighter away.

“Well, cheers.” Janus raised the flask to his lips and took a large gulp, then offered it to Roman, who accepted. The metal was cool, and he could feel rough lines on one side. Flipping it over, he saw that the shape of an octopus had been roughly scratched into the face of the otherwise smooth flask. He smiled absently at it. It reminded him of the doodles Remus had used to do, back when they were still a family, back when he was still friends with Virgil. Roman would find a piece of paper and use an orange felt-tip to draw a four-legged shape, and then scribble around its head in red in a rough approximation of a lion. Both his best friend and his brother would draw blobs with eight legs, one in green and one in purple. The green octopus would have curly legs, often spreading over the entire page and wrapping Roman’s lion in its grip; the spider would sit quietly on the edge of the page, and they’d look away, and when they looked back Virgil would have added half a dozen more. The three of them had gotten in so much trouble when their drawings had made their way first onto the floor and then the wall of the kitchen.

He seemed to remember that being his idea, but now that he thought about it, Roman was certain that Remus and Virgil had taken the brunt of the punishment for it.

Roman raised the flask to his mouth and swallowed as much as he could in one go, using the burn of whatever Janus had brought - was it tequila? He couldn’t tell - to jerk himself back to the present. Then he took another, because it didn’t taste bad.

That, of course, was when he regretted taking such a huge mouthful. Roman already knew he was a lightweight, and he needed his wits around him for what he was about to do. Janus smiled at him, took the flask back, and took another sip. “It’s bourbon,” he supplied.

“Whiskey? Isn’t that stuff expensive?”

“Came out of my parents’ liquor cabinet. They won’t notice it’s missing.” Janus shrugged and took another sip, then handed it back to Roman.

Which was good, because Roman wasn’t sure what to say to that.

They sat there in a sleepy sort of silence for a while, passing the flask between them. After his mistake with his first mouthful, Roman was careful not to drink any more, only tilting the thing until the whisky touched his lips and then lowering it again, pretending to swallow.

He wasn’t sure whether Janus was drinking any. It certainly looked as though he was, but Roman wasn’t sure if the flask was getting any lighter or not.

That would be amusing, wouldn’t it? Both of them sitting there, pretending to drink in the hopes of getting the other to get sloppy and reveal some secret or other.

Eventually, Roman came to the conclusion that he was going to have to say something. Otherwise, they would just sit here until it got dark, and then they’d go home, and the entire day would have been an unprecedented disaster. He cleared his throat, and Janus lowered the flask to look at him.

“I… Wanted to talk to you.” He started, and was surprised when his words were met with a broad smile.

“Me too. Do you mind if I go first?” Well, that wasn’t what Roman had expected at all. He shrugged, wiggled a hand in the air in a ‘go ahead’ motion, and then watched Janus take another gulp of whiskey. What was Janus about to say? Was he about to confess?

No, he wouldn’t be confessing. He was about to open with an easy request, for Roman to stop digging for the truth and to become his little puppet, and close with blackmail. Roman sat up a little straighter, the warmth in his stomach partially sunlight, partially alcohol, partially triumph.

“Roman, I…” Janus hesitated. Wow - he was putting a lot of unnecessary work into this. “I… It’s my fault, Princey. I blackmailed Remus until he believed the only way to free himself was to drive both of us to a fiery end. I don’t regret it. And now I’m going to blackmail you, because I still need a pawn in my evil plans for world domination. I don’t care if you never want to talk to me again - you’re my minion now.”

Only maybe that wasn’t what Janus had said. Maybe what Janus had actually said was, “I… I like you, Princey. A lot. I have for ages now, and I… Well, I was hoping that with us becoming friends, maybe you’d be open to… I don’t know, trying something. You - You don’t have to, of course. I won’t pressure you. And I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me ever again.”

Roman gaped at him, the words refusing to sink into his brain. “... What?” He was saying that a lot at the moment, it seemed.

Janus chuckled nervously and pressed the flask into his hand. “I have a crush on you, Roman. I’m asking if you want to try dating, or something.”

Roman looked down at the flask, wondering if he had somehow drunk enough to be hallucinating. Sure, a couple of weeks ago he had suspected that maybe Janus might like him, but he had ruled that out as an option. It was all just… Acting. Manipulation. Janus wasn’t being sincere.

“Roman? Ro? You okay?” A yellow hand was waving back and forth before his eyes, and Roman brought his focus back to the man sitting next to him. It was a trick, right? It had to be. Janus had been hurting Remus, he was using this as a way to get closer to Roman to hurt him as well. It was the only thing that made sense.

“I’d… I’d appreciate it if you said something now, Ro.”

Janus was playing with the cuffs of his gloves again. Roman just kept staring, waiting for the catch, for the trap to spring shut around his ankle.

“Anything. Yes. No. I hate you. I like you too. You disgust me. Anything, Ro, just stop staring at me like that.”

It was taking a considerable amount of effort to make words come out of his mouth, and Roman bought himself a few extra seconds by lifting the flask to his mouth and taking another mouthful. It burned on the way down - again - and helped bring him back to himself. Again.

Janus looked almost afraid now.

Janus looked almost afraid, and Roman didn’t like it.

“Is this… Is this a trick? Some sort of sick joke?”

Now Janus looked offended - no, he looked hurt, and that was worse. Taking the flask back from him, Janus shoved it into his bag and stood up. “I… Take it you don’t feel anything, after all. That’s… Alright. I won’t bother you again, Roman. It’s been nice knowing you.”

No - no, Roman couldn’t let him leave! He had to ask him - had to ask him - pushing himself to his feet, Roman grabbed at Janus’ sleeve, missed, and found that he was squeezing his hand. There was a vulnerable look on Janus’ face when he turned, so raw that something inside of Roman cracked painfully open, and the maggots within him writhed, although they were more sluggish than usual. Maybe that was the effect of the alcohol.

“Roman?” Janus asked, voice hopeful.

Roman spoke at the same time, the words tearing themselves from his chest in a torrent of anger and fear, blood and worms and guilt, vengeful wrath and desperate plea, alive. He just wanted Janus to stop lying, just wanted to stop feeling like the villain in this stupid, stupid tale, just wanted fix everything Janus had broken, that he had broken, and stop feeling bad about doing what needed to be done. “Why’re you hurting Remus?” He didn’t want the words to come out like that, faintly slurred and all at once, but he couldn’t stop now that he had started. “Why’s he scared’a you? Why’d you have to hurt him - what d’you want from us?!”

The apprehensive, excited look on Janus’ face slipped away, taking the world around them with it and smashing into fragments at their feet.

Taglist:

@bloodymari-0666

#roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #AcidentsHappenAU #alcohol use #fainting

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alexiessan · 5 years

Text

Never alone - Chapter Two - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Hello! Faster than ever before, I present you the second chapter of Never Alone!

I chose to not describe Marinette with her clothes or hairstyle so that you can imagine her as you want! In my mind, since she's a fashion designer, I imagine her always changing her clothes and very fashionable. I don't see her with her pigtails either. But it's up to you as to how you see her!

Also, I'm French, so if there are any grammatical mistakes, do not hesitate to tell me so I can come back and correct them!

Two months in the new school year, and Marinette was already exhausted. While she had a very calm summer filled with outings with her friends, she was now drowning in work. Jagged wanted her to design his newest album cover, and Clara Nightingale has asked for a new outfit for a music video.

At school, Alya and Marinette were doing their best to find a good trip for the end of the year. The school had a decent amount of money that was set aside specifically for their class trip, but they would need to organize an event or two if they wanted to go somewhere outside of Europe. They were lucky enough that their class’ trip was set for their first year of high school: Mrs. Mendelieiv’s class’ trip was set for the next year, right before the first set of exams for the baccalaureat.

Along with all that, there was also her duty as Ladybug. Hawkmoth has been relatively calm during the summer, but as soon as school started again in September, he released his akumas again.

Except, now, they were more brutal than ever before.

Ladybug cursed as the Akuma managed to deeply cut her on her left side. She watched as Chat jumped in as she collapsed on the roof they were battling. True to his promise, Chat took his job more seriously and only joked during patrols now. He also stopped to jump mindlessly in front of her to save her from a hit and actually tried to get both of them out of the way.

The Akuma they were fighting was a dangerous one. His arm has been transformed into two big shears, and they hurt like hell.

Ladybug watched with fascination as her hand was tainted with her own blood. She couldn’t remember if an Akuma had hurt her that much before… She knew for sure that she was bleeding too heavily and she was getting a bit dizzy. They would need to end the fight very soon.

Standing up, she took advantage of the distraction Chat provided to trip the Akuma with her yoyo, succeeding in tripping him. Quickly, Chat snatched the man’s bow and used cataclysm on it.

As she cleansed the Akuma and watched the light heal Paris and herself as she cast the cure, the red-clothed superhero couldn’t help but think it was time to contact the Justice League again.

Back when they got their miraculous, she and Chat had contacted the Justice League of Europe to ask for help. They were just teenagers without any training entrusted to protect a whole city as big as Paris, and it was clear to them they couldn’t possibly do that alone.

The person they had talked to at the moment had listened to them, took note and told them they would come back to them after informing the heroes of the issue in Paris. It was a month later that one of the heroes contacted them, informing them they would not intervene in Paris, as they have been doing a good job up until now and the miraculous cure healed everyone and repaired everything. They then give them words of encouragement before they cut the connection.

Ladybug had then wanted to contact the Justice League of America before remembering they wouldn’t be able to do anything as France was certainly not under their jurisdiction.

And thus, there they were, still two untrained teenagers, acting on instinct against people with magic powers.

Great.

She let Chat take care of the victim, still feeling the pain on her left side, even though it was healed and there was not a trace of blood left on her person.

“Are you ok?”

Ladybug watched as the victim was taken care of by some policemen and turned her attention to her partner.

“I’m fine Chat. Sorry I had to let you handle everything.”

“Hey, you were hurt and losing a lot of blood. It’s a wonder you could even stand up afterward.”

The girl smiled. “Should we try to contact the JLE again?”

Chat Noir sighed. “Even though they won’t intervene, they are watching closely what’s happening here. If they haven’t decided to step in yet, contacting them won’t change anything LB.”

Ladybug sighed. “You’re right. Of course. I should go Chat, I’m about to transform back.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later, then.”

Back in her room, Marinette winced as she sat down on her bed.

“Are you really ok Marinette?”

Tikki was looking at her with her big, wide blue eyes. She was obviously worried.

“I’m fine, just a bit sore. I’m lucky that the cure healed me, but I think I’ll still feel the pain for a few days.”

While the cure healed her, the pain stayed for some time after, varying on the severity of the injury. Since her latest injure was pretty severe, it would hurt for a little while.

“Alright, I still have some homework to do for tomorrow. You should eat something and go to sleep Tikki, you must be tired after today. There should be a cookie or two on my desk.”

The kwami looked at her for a moment before flying over her desk, knowing it was useless to insist and there wasn’t anything she could do anyway. Even if she wished she could take Marinette’s pain away.

“Alright girl, you said you found something for the trip?”

It was early December now, and Marinette had asked Alya to join her in the school library to discuss the trip. The fashion designer took the laptop out of her bag and opened it to show her what she found.

“So, you know how the trip also has to be educational? This is the Wayne Career Program. It’s designed for high school students. Each one of us would shadow someone in the firm as a sort of internship to learn about different professions.”

“Putain, girl! That’s amazing. Wayne Enterprises have a lot of different sectors. I could totally work with the PR team if we can manage to secure a trip there. Plus it’s in Gotham, in America!”

Alya literally squealed at the idea of traveling overseas.

“Yeah, I’m a bit worried about that actually. You know it’s not really the safest place on Earth.”

And what an understatement that was. Gotham was probably the city with the most crimes in the world. It would be a miracle if the school allowed them to go. But then again, the school board would do anything to up their reputation and a class winning an internship at WE… The principal would boast about it years after they had all graduated.

“There is an essay we have to write to apply. I suggest we write it before we present the idea to Ms. Bustier. We also need to prepare arguments for her and the school board.”

“No problem girl, I already have tons of arguments there.” The reporter showed her her notebook where there were two pages filled with arguments. The class president nodded, those were really good. She could really rely on her friend.

“Well, that was quick. Those should be enough to convince them. On to the essay, then. ‘How do you think you can change the world?’”

They spent hours after that, taking notes and making several drafts of the essay. It took them a week to have the actual final product and when they handed it to Ms. Bustier, she was delighted. It was decided they wouldn’t announce the destination of the trip to the class until they were sure it could be a possibility.

Alya and Marinette had dropped hints about the destination though, to see if the class would actually like to go to Gotham.

After a week or so, they knew they had chosen well.

On Marinette’s birthday, on the 16th of December, after lunch where the whole class sang Happy birthday to her, the class president and the class deputy had a meeting with the principal and the board of the school.

It was tough to convince them, and the meeting actually lasted the whole afternoon, but at the end of the day, they had all signed the papers that confirmed that the trip would happen in Gotham, should the two girls won the contest. They even agreed to unfreeze some more funds for it. This program would really look good on the school’s record.

It was with a bright smile that they returned to class ten minutes before the end of the day bell and announced to everyone that the trip to Gotham has been confirmed. Using the classroom’s computer, the whole class witness as the two girls applied to the Wayne Career Program.

Now, all they had to do was wait for an answer.

Life after that was a bit calmer for Marinette, if you didn’t count the Akumas. She worried that they were more and more violent, and more often than not, she had lingering pain from injuries she got at Ladybug.

But life was good. Lila had even stopped lying and was herself. Even if it means that she wasn’t very kind to anyone, even mocking all of them at times, the class would just scoff and roll their eyes at her antics. The designer still wouldn’t talk to her, but the atmosphere in the class was lighter than the previous year, and for that Marinette was grateful.

They were all at an outdoor ice rink at the end of January when Marinette’s phone beeped with a notification.

“Oh fucking shit, guys!”

It caught everyone’s attention as the tiny Dupain-Cheng was not one to curse like that.

“I just got an email for Mr. Wayne’s secretary! Our class is among the nine others to have won the contest! We are going to Gotham in May!”

Everyone cheered at that, hugging each other and even going as far as carrying Marinette and Alya around, as it was their doing.

“America, here we come!” shouted Kim.

“You do realize that you will have to work extra hard on your English, right?” teased Max.

“Oh, shit.”

Everyone laughed at that, but it was agreed among themselves and their English teacher that they would all stay for an hour and a half after school to learn the language, up until their trip.

“I can’t wait to see Gotham’s heroes in action!” squealed Alya.

“Aren’t they vigilantes?” asked Mylène.

“Same thing!”

“Not quite, babe.” grinned Nino.

Even Lila was smiling with them, and it was huge progress in their book.

Marinette smiled, “We’ll be there for two weeks. The first week, we’ll be visiting around, and the second week will be dedicated to our internships. I will have to send a list of all our careers of interest to Mr. Wayne’s secretary, so they can organize who we will be shadowing. So, I’ll need you to send me those pieces of information this weekend, so I can send it on Monday, okay?”

“Roger that, boss.”

As Alya took her hand to skate with her around the rink, the baker’s daughter couldn’t help the huge smile on her lips. A year ago, there was a lot of tension in the class, and here they were, all laughing together and talking excitedly about the upcoming trip that their class president and deputy won them.

She could hear Rose talking excitedly about the things she wanted to see in Gotham. She watched as Kim challenged Alix on God knows what and laughed as Max stated that he had a two-percent chance of winning that bet. She smiled as Adrien, with them at an outing for once, fell on his butt and Nino laughed as he helped him up. She even grinned as she watched Lila having a conversation with Nathaniel without being mean or mocking him once.

She had thought a year before that Lila would never change, but she was wrong. And she was happy that she had been, because even though Lila wasn’t very nice, well, all her classmates were kind enough to make up for it.

Yeah, Marinette thought with a smile, life was good. And she had a feeling that it would be even better.

Tag list:

@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant

#ml x dc #miraculous x dc #maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette

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