#she also told me not to miss any of my exams to protest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beginningofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Stay Focused - San

Pairing: university student y/n x office worker San

Genre: smut with plot (MINORS DNI!)

Word Count: 12.5k (I don't know what happened)

Summary: Your mother insists on getting you a tutor for your studies. You want to resist until you meet Choi San, your tutor. His sweet talk and good looks make you focus on anything but your studies and you do everything to finally catch his attention in the same way.

Warnings: San is a few years older (5 to be exact), some nipple play, fingering, some orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, blowjob (face-fucking leaning), protected sex, mirror sex

The reader in this is so horny omg. Just straight up trash for San (relatable). Also very long build-up.

"Good is not enough in this family," your mother repeats to you for what feels like the 100th time. „Your grades have to be exceptional if you want to work in my business."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you change your phone to the other hand to stir your pasta around. You just told her about your recent test results which of course are not satisfactory to her.

The problem is that you are actually doing pretty good. You never missed or failed a class, you passed all your courses with at least a good score and you had even fulfilled additional classes to broaden the spectrum of your studies. But just like she said: Good is not enough for her. She won't shut up about your grades until you reach 100% in all of your classes - which is basically impossible, especially in your field of study.

"Do you even still want to work in the family business?" your mother asks you provokingly. And the problem is, you do. You really do. Your mother is the CEO of a big pharmacy company and ever since you were a kid you followed her interest in chemistry. You even chose your pharmacy major without her influence. But now that you are taking the same path as her, she is all in your business about being the perfect little mini-her.

"I do, mom. I'm working hard on it, I promise. The next exam is in four weeks and I already started studying."

She makes a huffing sound before answering you: "You said that the last three times as well and still didn't get a full score. You should really get a tutor."

"Mom! I'm the best in my class. Why should I get a tutor? I'm doing great!" You are glad you're only talking to her on the phone so that she doesn't see the way your hands clasps over your face. She can't be serious with you. Getting a tutor with your grades is just embarrassing.

"But not great enough. You know what? The son of a close business partner recently started working at the company. He graduated a few years ago with an honour's degree and seems to be a very promising young man. I'll ask him to tutor you."

Your cheeks start to heat up just at the thought of how embarrassing the whole thing will be for you. Getting a tutor that worked for your mother is literally the worst case scenario. You feel like a high school student that doesn't pay attention in school and now gets scolded for it.

"I do not need a tutor, mom." You state once again but her mind is already made up.

"I'll give him your number and he will contact you. And don't you dare be rude to him, his father is very important for our business!"

You can't believe her words. Since when have you ever been rude to anyone she introduced you to? Your mother ends the call before you can protest any more.

Angrily, you fish a single spaghetti out of your pot to taste it. It's perfectly cooked when you munch on it in annoyance.

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

This is Choi San.

Your mother told me you needed tutoring on your pharmacy classes and gave me your schedule.

I can teach you Tuesday and Thursday afternoon from 6PM. Would that work for you?

You fall back onto bed with a frustrated groan as you read the messages. She really asked him. Now you have no choice but agree to him tutoring you because your mother would kill you otherwise.

Typing a reply you take a deep breath. This will be such a waste of time for the both of you.

Hello! Tuesdays and Thursdays are good. Thank you so much.

You hate how pathetic you sound. What are you even thanking him for? You don't want him to tutor you and he was definitely forced by your mother so why even play pretend?

No problem. We can use meeting room 117 at the company since I reserved it for us. I'll see you on Tuesday.

You dread Tuesday every single day from now on. When it finally arrives you feel ridiculous as you enter the large building of your mother's company. You have been here countless times but you never thought you would get tutor lessons here.

Even worse is that your mother made you go greet her beforehand. She specifically texted you to visit her office before the appointment with Mr. Choi. You walk past her assistant with a polite greeting and finally enter her office.

The luxurious room sat at the top floor of the building with a nice view over the city. Sometimes you forget how successful her company actually is. It can be quiet intimidating.

"There you are," she greets you with a mere look up from a bunch of files on her desk. "I hope you prepared well for your tutoring session. Please don't embarrass yourself in front of Mr. Choi. His father is an important business partner of mine and he himself seems to be a very promising employee. I don't want my own daughter to make him think worse of the company."

Of course she only worries about the company. The idea that this is incredibly humiliating for her own daughter does not even cross her mind.

"Hello, mom. Of course I prepared well, I always do. I won't disappoint you."

She nods at you, satisfied with your answer before looking at her watch. "Then you should head to the meeting room. He is always ridiculously early for meetings so he's probably waiting for you already."

Great, you think to yourself. You hoped you would be able to grab a coffee beforehand.

"I'll go right away. Bye, mom."

You walk to the elevator with heavy steps and check your own watch. It's still fifteen minutes until 6PM so there's plenty of time to grab a coffee before, no matter what your mother might say.

Entering the elevator you select the floor of the meeting room with the plan to walk to the coffee pantry first. Half-way down, the elevator stops on a different floor. When the doors open you almost choke on your polite "Hello" as your eyes take in the person in front of you.

Walking into the elevator is easily the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. Dressed in a tight pair of dark pants and a perfectly fitted dress-shirt the handsome stranger repeats your greeting with a small bow and a mind-numbingly attractive smile. His eyes carry a little glimmer even behind the round pair of glasses he wears and as he pushes back his black hair you feel like swooning.

You have to keep yourself from staring when he takes his place in the elevator and both of you wait for it to move. Just now you realize he hasn't pushed a button, which means he is heading to the same floor as you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can't help but watch him.

He is a few inches taller than you but appears even bigger due to his broad frame. You wonder where that man even finds clothes that fit his stature with his broad shoulders and tiny waist. He checks his most definitely expensive wrist watch before looking at the display counting down the floors.

When the elevator doors open with a ding, you almost jolt. You were so caught up in thinking about how good he looks that you didn't even notice arriving on your floor. The handsome man gestures for you to step out first with another deadly smile in your direction.

"Thank you," you barely breath out as you step out of the elevator in front of him. It feels like the air outside is ten degrees colder. Without looking back you head to the pantry of the floor. You need a coffee even more than before now that you can only think of that guy from the elevator. There is no way you can concentrate on tutoring now without some caffeine.

The benefit of being the CEO's daughter is having a card with unlimited access to the coffee machines so you happily press the button for a black coffee. At the familiar buzzing sound you can finally relax and take a deep breath. No man has ever made you so flustered before just by existing. Maybe you should visit the office more often if that was the kind of employees your mother hired.

Taking your coffee into one hand and your study bag into the other you turn around to head to the meeting room. Caught up deeply in your thoughts you almost run head first into the person behind you.

"Woah, careful there. You don't want to spill that coffee do you?" his voice is smooth like honey, with a joking tone to it. You blink up at him a few times before you find your words.

"I'm sorry. I was distracted."

The man from the elevator smiles at you and you feel your body warming up from the inside out.

"Don't worry, nothing happened." He looks you up and down quickly before holding eye contact once again.

"Excuse the question, but do you happen to be director Kim's daughter?"

You stare at him in confusion. "Yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?"

He moves past you, grabbing a cup from the pantry himself and turning on the coffee machine before he answers:

"You share her eyes. But more importantly, your bag has a pin of the pharmacy faculty of the university and because I'm supposed to meet her daughter for tutoring on this floor in - " he checks his watch again: "exactly 12 minutes, I figured it might be you."

You are impressed. His looks are already enough to have your eyes turn into hearts but there is probably nothing that makes a man more attractive to you than his wit. But what hits you even more than that is the fact that THIS was your tutor.

I take everything back mom, I love tutoring. Sign me up for another year.

"Well, you figured correctly," you reply weakly, at a loss for words. "Nice to meet you Mr. Choi."

You put your cup on the pantry table to reach your hand out to him. He takes it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Miss Kim. I was going to get the two of us some coffee but as I can see you already helped yourself."

Oh, so he's a gentleman as well.

"Next time you should let me take care of that," you said showing him your free access card. "I happen to own the key to infinite coffee."

"Does the caffeine addiction come for free with that as well?" You chuckle at his joke.

"I think it's the requirement to get it in the first place."

"Well then I will happily let you get us coffee next time."

Next time, you think. The reality that you will be seeing this man on a regular basis hits you.

For a second the two of you just smile at each other. Then Mr. Choi notices that his coffee is done and he grabs the cup.

"Let's head to the meeting room then. I wouldn't want to waste your time."

You sir, can waste my time any day of the week, you think to yourself but obviously keep silent as you follow him to the room.

He holds the door open for you and you settle down onto one of the meeting chairs. You always hated these things. They are designed to make you sit upright and therefore terribly uncomfortable. You desperately want to fold one of your legs under yourself like you always do at home but you have a good image to keep. After taking a seat across from you he puts his bag onto the table and looks at you expectantly.

"So what topics exactly are you struggling with? It's been a while for me but I'm sure I can help."

"To be honest with you, I don't really need help on anything."

San raises his eyebrows behind the round glasses on his nose. "What do you mean?"

You sigh, not knowing how to explain this dilemma best. "My mother made me get a tutor because she believes I need better grades. In fact I'm the best of my year with perfect attendance and an average of 95%. She says that everything under 100% is not enough which is why she must have thought of you as a tutor."

San just stares at you with a peculiar look on his face. He looks almost impressed from your words.

"I knew director Kim could be quite strict but I had never imagined that extent. I'm sorry she made you do this, a 95% average is very impressive in the pharmacy field."

"Says someone with a perfect 100% graduation," you snap back, a little more spiteful than you want to. But San doesn't seem to take it the wrong way. Instead he chuckles in response. The sound sends shivers down your spine, his voice dipping way lower than you had expected it could.

"Trust me, that wasn't all brains. I only know my way around people." You don't doubt that last statement for even a second.

"Maybe instead of teaching I can give you some tips around the university. That would probably help you more."

Now you are interested.

"What kind of tips for example?" You lean forward resting an elbow on the table as you pick your cup of coffee up for a sip. It's still burning hot but you pretend you didn't just burn your tongue as you set it back down.

"Does Mr. Han still do the medicine lectures? He's been using the same exam template for years. Pharmacy students are just to selfish to share the results with the younger students. I'll look for my old exams later to give them to you."

Your mouth opens in awe. Everyone from the year above had told you Mr Han's exams were the hardest and it turns out they were just lying to intimidate you. The competition was real.

"These fuckers," you mumble beneath your breath but judging by his chuckle, San heard you just fine.

"Sorry," you excuse your language immediately with a small nod. He is still an employee under your mother and she told you explicitly to act well around him. Hiding your uneasiness you go for another scolding sip of coffee.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't go complaining to your mother about your language. You don't need to be her perfect little girl for me."

You almost choke on your coffee and have to force the liquid down your throat with an effort. You really wish they didn't but his words made your insides squirm. The amount of money you'd pay him to call you 'darling' again is surely an embarrassing amount. But good little girl also didn't sound too bad from his mouth.

"Thanks," you mumble, not knowing what else to say and stare onto the table to hide your flushing face. If you look at him with those slutty, round glasses right now, you're sure you'll combust.

You don't notice, but Mr. Choi eyes you up and down carefully before he resumes speaking. He smiles at your flustered state that obviously doesn't escape his sharp senses. Seeing your pretty face flush from only these few words, satisfies him deeply.

"Then how about that toxicology class? If Mr. Lim still teaches it, I know a few ways to get on his good side. He always picks favourites and it shows in the grades."

Mr. Choi continues listing off ways to better your grades around your professors. You can't help but be impressed. Not only is he obviously very intelligent but also great with people. Maybe what kept you from exceeding in your studies was your rather reserved nature in class.

"How about this," Mr. Choi finally proposes after teaching you some of his ways. "I'll get you my old notes and exams and with that you will surely ace all your tests. Then we can meet up for these tutoring sessions and while you study in peace I can get some work done. This way your mother is happy and we both profit from the situation."

You nod without hesitation. "That sounds like a great idea. Thank you so much, Mr. Choi."

He groans at your words, a sound that makes you react in a way you don't even want to put into words.

"Please don't call me Mr. Choi when we're alone that makes me feel terribly old. My name is San."

"Aren't you older than me though?" you ask back carefully. It doesn't feel right to call him by his first name.

"If 5 years are old to you?" he inquires with a slight teasing edge to his voice. You don't know if he's flirting with you or if you are just becoming a witness to this man's effortless social skills.

Truthfully, you are 22 and 5 years more don't seem that much to you. Still his way with words and the confident aura around him make him seem more mature.

"I didn't say old. Just older."

He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, leisurely resting one of his elbows on the backrest behind him. "Just call me San, darling."

There it is again. That word single-handedly turns you into a blushing mess within seconds and you find yourself agreeing without another thought.

"Okay, San."

A satisfied smile spreads on his face and you marvel at the dimples that form on his cheeks. "Much better. Than how about you do some studying and I'll get some work done now?"

"Sounds good," you reply and start taking out your classwork. He could've told you to start stripping right now and you would've agreed without question. Damn you are down bad for him already...

It is a weird situation at first. You are used to studying around strangers in the library, but sitting alone in a room with San makes it hard to focus on your upcoming test. His eyes keep flicking from his work laptop across to you and you don't know if he's interest in the topic you're studying or you.

You yourself on the other hand are surely interested in him and you can't help but steal a few glances at him working diligently at his laptop every now and then. Even typing on his keyboard looks ridiculously hot on him with the way his slender fingers run over the keys.

After about two hours of you trying to keep your eyes on your notes San finally closes his laptop and stares at you until you reciprocate his look.

"I guess two hours is enough to make your mother think you studied, right?" he asks with one corner of his mouth slightly lifted.

"Sure," you respond weakly.

"I'll look for my old tests and will bring them on Thursday," he goes on as he stands up to pack up his laptop and bag. You also start gathering your study books.

"Thank you again," you answer lamely. But the promise of already seeing him again on Thursday excites you.

When you proceed to grab your now empty coffee cup his hands react quickly as he snatches it from you.

"Don't worry about that, I'll put those away," he's leaning over the table now, smiling at you through slightly closed eyes and you can't help but be entranced by his looks. "You should make sure to get home before it's dark outside. Want you to get home safely."

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage."

"Oh but I won't if something happens to you and your mother finds out you were last seen with me," he replies cockily as you two finally go to the door.

You have to chuckle at his remark. "Good to know I'm not the only one terrified of her."

"Everyone is terrified of her," he mumbles under his breath but you are already reaching the coffee pantry - aka your cue to go home.

"Can we use the same room on Thursday?" you ask as you stop in front of him. You make sure to brush your hair behind your ear in a nonchalant manner, knowing it shows your good angles.

"Yeah, I already booked it," San replies easily, eyes fixing yours from above. "But let's meet at the coffee machine here. I want to at least take advantage of that free coffee if I give you all my study secrets."

He winks at you at the last part of the sentence and it makes your insides twirl like on a rollercoaster. You give him a small smile through fluttering lashes. "So that's what you meant with a win-win situation: Endless coffee. Well it looks like I don't have a choice but to be your personal coffee machine."

You want to punch yourself right after that sentence leaves your mouth. How much more stupid could you possibly sound? Personal coffee machine. Saying you wanted to be his personal slut would have been less embarrassing.

But San doesn't seem to mind your awkward response. "Sounds good to me," he replies smoothly. "Then have a good ride home and I'll see you on Thursday."

"Until Thursday," you reply before you can say something stupid again and stroll off to the elevator with a small wave.

As soon as the doors close behind you, your head thumps against the steel wall. There is no way you will get any studying done with that man in the same room as you.

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

Your next few meetings with San go on smoothly. You are always on time but he is still earlier than you, waiting for you at the coffee machine. You get both of you a coffee - sometimes two if you feel like it - and you two get to work in a comfortable silence sitting opposite to each other in the meeting room.

After San brought you his old exams you can now prepare exactly what you need to know for your next tests. But no matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, your eyes keep wandering from your books up to the handsome man working on his laptop.

You soon notice his seemingly endless closet full of tailored dressing shirts and perfectly matching pants. He always looks immaculate, not a single wrinkle on his shirt and his hair always neatly combed back. Even his skin is flawless to the point that you start questioning if Choi San might be a figment of your imagination.

Just like his outer appearance, his manners are immaculate. Like you already noticed on your first meeting, he is a sweet talker. Always knowing the right thing to say and never letting your conversation end in awkwardness.

Whenever he feels like taking a break you notice him starting to talk to you. At first he asks how your studies are going. Then he wanders off to the professors you two shared and how he managed to ace all his classes.

Your whole attention is glued to his lips. For one thing because the information he can provide you with is crucial to your academic development but much more importantly because his lips are the prettiest thing you have ever seen. They look so plump and smooth while he's talking that your mind can't help but wander to the other things he might be able to do with them besides talking.

If at your first meeting you were down bad for Choi San, one month later you felt like you were drowning and he was the last bit of oxygen left on earth. You wanted him with a passion that you didn't even know you were capable of.

But you couldn't have him. There was too much at stake. He still worked for your mother and if you made a move on him that he wouldn't reciprocate you would risk the eternal hate of the only woman that still held control over your life. And so far San hadn't shown any sign of feeling the same way about you that you did for him.

„You're stuck on that?" San suddenly asks you over the page of biochemistry that you've been staring at for a solid five minutes. You haven't spared a single thought on the topic in front of you. Your mind is only occupied by the thought of San leaning over you on the meeting chair, your chin in between his slender fingers as he smirks down at you. You hate him for having this effect on you when you so desperately need to focus on your studies.

You really need to get your thoughts together.

„Oh no I was just getting carried away," you answer, looking at him pointedly with a sly smile.

You tried little attacks like this on him before. A casual pull down of your shirt, stretching your arms to make it ride up over your stomach or even looking directly at his lips as he spoke. But no matter how daring you get you can never catch San slipping.

His eyes stay on yours only whenever he looks at you, his tone is always polite and never goes farther than a casual joke. You simply can't draw a single reaction from him and it drives you insane.

„Do you need a small break? We could get another coffee," he offers helpfully.

I don't want a damn coffee I want you to fuck me on this meeting table.

"I'd love to, but I'm already way too warm today. I fear the AC can't fight against the heat anymore."

It has gotten exponentially hotter over the past days and you can feel it even inside the modern building.

"You're right, it's quite hot in here," San says with a disappointed face. "What a shame we don't have iced coffee. We should get some on Tuesday!"

His eyes light up in excitement and this little sliver of pure happiness doesn't escape you. It's surprising how cute he can be with that shamelessly hot body of his.

"Do you know a place near?" You ask to drag on the conversation. You yourself know at least 3 cafés in the area that sell iced coffee but you want San to tell you a place. Maybe his favourite. So that you can go and think of him.

"Yes, I can show you!" he answers proudly.

"I'd love to." You send him a gentle smile with long eye contact before both of you look back at your work.

But your concentration withers away like the dying plant in the corner of the room when Choi San begins undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves.

You know you shouldn't but your eyes immediately watch as his slender fingers start neatly folding up his sleeves. The muscles in his underarms dance beneath his skin as inch after inch of skin gets revealed.

You feel like a medieval man salivating over exposed ankles as you stare at San's arms. The veins are protruding in the heat and his honey skin is glistening under the bland neon lights.

Your heartbeat quickens and it's mostly because it feels like you finally found San slipping. Him rolling up his sleeves is like a crack in his perfect mask and you are certain that he wouldn't do it anywhere else in the company. He only does this because he is with you.

"Shoot," he suddenly exclaims and draws your attention up to his face. You catch the small pout that appears on his lips before he looks back at you.

"What is it?" you ask him.

"I forgot to book the meeting room for Tuesday and now everything is blocked. There is a work event next week. I should've booked it earlier."

"Oh," you simply reply. This is even more confusing. You don't believe that San would ever forget such an important event. Is he trying to get rid of you?

"Don't worry about it, darling." His smirk and the nickname has you fighting for air. "I'll find us something else."

You can only nod at him with a smile. Maybe he isn't trying to get rid of you.

The rest of your study/work time flies by as your mind thinks of all the possible meeting places you and San could have for Tuesday. You feel like a highschool girl dreaming about dates with your crush but you don't care. The man that is supposed to be tutoring you just makes your heart speed up in a way that you haven't experienced ever before.

When your meeting time comes to an end and San starts packing up his stuff he simply says: "How about we meet at my place next time? I don't like working in cafés it's always so crowded and noisy. And I have coffee too."

You snap up at him in surprise at the proposal. "Sure," you reply as nonchalantly as you can at the prospect of going to Choi San's apartment. Alone. With him.

"I can pick you up here with my car after work. So you don't have any extra way."

"That sounds good," you reply with a small smile, trying not to sound too excited.

"Then until next week," he says with one of his handsome smiles and you say your goodbyes before you can turn even redder in his presence.

When you walk onto the elevator this time and the door closes behind you, your heart is pounding into your throat. As the realization sets in that you will be alone with Choi San in his apartment a satisfied smile set over your face. Oh you will use that chance for sure.

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

You spend the entire day preparing for your tutor appointment with San. Something deep inside you tells you that this behaviour is ridiculous but you push this inner voice back down as you play your favourite music and get ready.

You wear your hair in light waves and put on makeup to bring out your eyes but not look overly done up. Your outfit was a tricky matter but you settled on a classic pleated skirt and a tight long-sleeve. Everything about your appearance today lands on the thin line between innocent and suggestive and you are satisfied when you twirl around in front of the mirror.

All you want is one small reaction out of the man that you have thirsted for over the past weeks. If Choi San even so much as lets his eyes scan you up and down, your mission would be successful. Lost in your task of getting ready you almost forget to actually pack your study books before heading to your mothers company.

You two agreed on San picking you up at the company's garage. So you are taking down the elevator to the parking floor and checking yourself one last time in your phone camera before stepping into the parking lot.

Having no idea how his car looks like you pull up your chat with San, wanting to ask him where to go. But before you can type your message a calm voice calls you over from across the parking lot.

"Y/n!"

You turn around to a sight that makes your heart flutter. San is leaning onto his car, a chic black Mercedes. His white dress shirt has one button unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up again. His feet are crossed over each other leisurely as he waits for you to come over.

Walking up to him you have to try real hard to look casual and not like your nerves are taking over you with the impending situation of being in the same car as San for an undefined amount of time. Your heart is beating already and he hasn't even called you any nicknames yet.

"Hello, San. You're not wearing glasses today?" you notice in surprise and hope it doesn't come off as too attentive.

"Sometimes I wear contacts," he replies smoothly. "It's a styling decision."

While you love the glasses on San seeing him without has a different charm to it. Almost like he is showing you a different side of him.

"Ready to go?" you ask him to keep the conversation going and you're almost proud of your nonchalant tone.

"Ready when you are," he replies with a light smile and walks around the car to open the door for you.

Of course he opens the door for me.

Before you can get in he also takes your bag from you to store it in the back. You want to refuse but one of his smiles finally makes you give in and you hand him the bag. Finally, you thank him and sit down in the passenger seat. The car looks even nicer on the inside: leather seats and perfectly clean. Something inside you starts questioning where this man hides his flaws since noone can possibly be this perfect at all times.

"It's only a 20 minute drive," San explains as he gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. You can't help but watch his hands as he manages the gearshift. But as he turns around to look for obstacles his eyes get stuck on you. For a second you think you got him. That his eyes linger on you for a little too long because you finally pulled a reaction out of him.

"You haven't even put your seatbelt on, darling."

And with that your mind is blank. Simple emptiness.

Before you can react, his hand reaches past you, grabbing the seatbelt and plugging it in. His hand doesn't so much as grace your shoulder for a millisecond but you feel like your lungs are constricting.

"Thanks," you breath out before he finally pulls out of the parking spot. He does that wildly attractive thing where he put his hand on the back of the passenger's seat while driving backwards and you feel like losing it already. How will you survive being in the same apartment with this man. San however seems his usual chatty self.

"I'm sorry again for not booking the meeting room in time. I already reserved it for the weeks to come," he starts talking to you.

"Don't worry. I totally don't mind," you answer and regret it immediately. Did that sound too eager? Something about Sam's presence makes you overthink every single word you say.

"I have a fancy coffee machine at home so I can at least return the favour of you getting me coffee all the time."

You smile at that. It feels like this little inside thing between you two how you always use your company privileges to pay for both of your coffee. San thanks you every single time, bringing up how much you save his day.

"I never thought you were that much of a coffee guy at home too," you say trying to get him to tell you more about himself.

"You're acting like I didn't go through pharmacy as well!" He replies with a slightly sulky tone. "No way to survive that major without getting addicted to coffee."

You chuckle at his response. "That's true unfortunately. So you just carried the addiction into your job?"

"You could state it like that but by buying a fancy machine you can just say that coffee is your hobby instead."

Whenever you two talk about mundane topics like this you can't help but be glued to his lips. To get a glimpse of the Choi San that isn't working over-hours all the time and kept up his perfect image at all costs. You want to find out the details about him. Like how he enjoys his coffee or what colour he might like best.

You continue the drive in casual chatter like this before finally reaching your destination. As San pulls into an underground parking lot of an apartment building your heart rate quickens again. Something about seeing his apartment makes you incredibly nervous.

He tells you to wait inside the car after he lets the motor die down so that he can open the door for you again. Even this small gesture has you wrapped around his finger and you smile as you try to step out of the car as gracefully as you can.

San leads you into an elevator and as soon as the doors close you feel reminded of your first meeting. Of how he took your breath away just by standing next to you in such a small space. And now there isn't much difference. He still makes you just as nervous. But at least you can talk to him now.

"How is studying for your exams going so far?" He asks casually.

"It's okay," you reply lamely. "I'm trying my best."

"You know if you actually do need my help you can obviously ask me," he offers alluding to your deal of him basically just getting his own work done instead of tutoring you.

"You've already helped me so much. All I need to do now is actually study," you say turning down his argument.

You idiot, you think to yourself. You could've at least pretended to need his help.

You wait in silence as the remaining floors rush past you. You're surprised with every passing number, wondering what floor San might be living on. But the elevator doesn't stop until the highest floor.

San let's you exit first which makes no sense to you since you don't know where to go. So you wait for him to show you the way to his apartment.

As soon as he unlocks the door and leads you two inside you curiously scan his place. On a first glance it looks almost exactly like you expected: it's very clean and tidy, the furniture is modern and rather minimalistic and the whole place carries a simple colour theme of black and chrome with only hints of colour. The entrance leads straight into an open living room that connects to the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home at the dinner table," San offers while gesturing at the big, black table that looks like straight out of a design magazine.

You both place your shoes neatly at the entrance of his apartment before you take your bag to the table. As you choose a seat from which you can look outside the gigantic window front, San heads over to the kitchen, getting something from a cupboard.

"Can I get you a glass of water before I make some coffee?" He asks you with a kind smile.

"That would be nice," you answer even though water was not what you were craving right now.

He filled one for you and brought it over before returning to the kitchen. "You want your coffee hot or iced?"

"Iced? This is better service than at the company. You should forget to book the meeting room more often." It's a weak attempt at flirting with him but he laughs non the less.

"So iced it is?" He confirms with you again and turns on his electric coffee grinder after you nod approvingly.

It shouldn't captivate you that much, looking at him while he was performing such a basic task as making coffee. But you could watch him for hours, the way his broad back stretches out his dress shirt. The way he moves around so smoothly. The way the muscles in his arms flex as he handles his espresso machine.

You turn towards your study materials just in time before he faces you again, two iced coffees in his hands. He places one gently in front of you before he sits down opposite of you.

"Thank you," you smile at him extra sweetly.

"Anything you want, darling."

You swear to yourself that if he calls you darling one more time you will throw all rational thoughts out of the window and straddle him right here in his stupid designer living room chair. But for now you settle for a coy smile as you feel your cheeks heat up.

To add to your demise, as San drags his chair closer to the table both of your knees touch for a brief second before he casually changes his seating position. The table is narrower than the one in the meeting room and knowing that your legs are mere inches from another makes you even more delusional. What if he did that on purpose?

After that, all concentration for your studies is far gone. It doesn't help at all that the iced coffee he made you was the best you had in ages and with every sip you keep wondering what Choi San isn't good at.

I just know he fucks good there's no other way, you think to yourself but get interrupted in your thoughts.

"Are you stuck on something?" San asks you and you almost don't even dare to raise your eyes to look at him. A kind of shame overcomes you as you realize what you have been thinking about while he worries about your studies.

You sigh to buy yourself time to find an answer that doesn't include: Yes, I'm stuck because I can't think of anything but your body on top of mine.

"Yeah, I just can't seem to concentrate well lately. Maybe I'm stressed out because of my finals."

It isn't fully a lie. Your finals are approaching steadily and with you thirsting over your tutor instead of studying you are indeed starting to worry.

"I would love to tell you that grades don't matter too much but I know your mother won't agree and I will probably face her anger too if you fail," he laughs at the end of his sentence to lighten the mood but quickly notices he only stressed you more by saying that.

"I'm sorry," he quickly retracts. It feels like the first time you caught him messing up his smooth way of talking which in return makes you smile.

"No, you're right. I just never thought about the fact that she will hate both of us if I mess up. What a way to relax."

"I shouldn't have said that," San again apologizes. "I'm sure you will do amazing though. After all you studied so much."

He finishes his sentence with a wink and you must stare at him for a second like an idiot. Did you just imagine that? Or is he alluding to something? Does Choi San know that you thirsted for him this entire fucking time?

But his further actions don't allow you to think much more.

"You look quite tense actually," he continues. "You know it's not good for your back to sit stiff like this for a prolonged amount of time. Your neck must be hurting?"

You have no idea what he is talking about. And your confusion only grows as San gets up from his chair heading in your direction. Every step he comes closer to you has your heart pumping erratically. Even though you dreamed about him being closer to you and finally paying you more attention you are now paralysed at the situation unfolding. Simply being close to him renders your entire body useless.

San steps behind you and, to your absolute shock and amazement, his hands gently grasp your shoulders.

"To compensate the stress from university I took a physiology course that taught us how to massage tense muscles."

As if to proof his words his thumbs gently start rubbing circles into your neck. The warmth of his fingers seeps through your thin shirt and fills your entire body. It feels like he set you on fire with this simple touch.

All of this cannot be real. This must be a figment of your imagination or you actually fell asleep on your study notes while dreaming about San. But his voice sounds very much real when he resumes:

"You have to relax, otherwise I'll hurt you." His voice drops lower than usual and as he gently drapes your hair over one shoulder to get it out of his way you can feel his breath fanning over your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

But amid the fire burning in your veins and your clouded mind you actually manage to ease into his fingers and allow him to loosen up your muscles.

"That's a good girl," he rasps behind you and you know you tipped over the edge now. There is no going back from this. You feel like a doll in his hands. His words are electrifying, leaving you unable to utter a single word, to make a single sound. Your mind is running on a state of emergency. Nothing seems to get to you but the fact that San is touching you.

And oh is he good at it. His hands are pressing into all the right places relieving all the pent up tension you built ever since getting ready for this meeting today. If his fingers are already this good at massaging out your stress you can't help but think about what else they can do.

"How do you feel?" He asks. His voice is still low and his tone taunting, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Better," you answer. Your voice is merely a whisper. You sound weak, even in your own ears, and wonder if he even heard you.

"Yeah? Then how is this?" With his question his thumbs dip beneath the collar of your shirt and massage your upper back a little lower.

You can't help but close your eyes. The low tone of his voice, his fingers on your skin and the playfulness of his words. All of this is so overwhelming you can only lean back and revel in his touch.

"It feels so good," you manage to breath out when you realize he asked you a question.

He bends down a little, his mouth now right next to your ear. "Should I make you feel even better?"

He is quite literally the devil on your shoulder. Everything in your body screams for you to say yes immediately. The unspoken promise has your entire body on fire and you almost give in to your desire. But a tiny speck of reasonable thinking pulls you back into the dangerous territories you are moving in right now.

"What do you mean?" you ask carefully. You know that this is everything you wanted for the past few weeks but still you can't help being confused about his sudden change.

His left hand wanders from your back to your chin, tilting it to the side so you can look at him. The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. His pupils are dilated and he is looking at you like he is preying on you. The intensity is something you have never seen in him before.

"You are far too smart to be asking that question, darling," he replies smugly.

"But you were never interested in me?" You ask back and want to hit yourself on the spot. Why are you even asking questions when the man you've desired for weeks finally seems to be making a move on you? But after all he is acting very out of character.

San chuckles, never taking his eyes off of you. "You're so cute. All these weeks that you've been wanting me and now you ask what I'm doing?"

Your mouth opens in shock. So he did in fact know all this time that you were interested in him.

"Don't act all surprised now, darling. You really thought I didn't see the way you looked at me ever since we first met? How your eyes keep focusing on my arms in my tight shirts. How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking? I wanted to see how long I could leave you thirsting like this before you would break."

His confession has you gasping as you realize you weren't even faintly as indiscreet as you thought you were. Instead San was playing with you the entire time. Watching your every move.

"Desperation looks so cute on you," he adds with another devilish smile. His fingers continue drawing circles into your back as his burning eyes keep you fixed in your spot. You feel bewitched by his entire presence, like he has cast a spell on you.

"I made all this effort to get you into my apartment so we both don't have to risk our lives by having me ruin you on the meeting table and still you didn't even have a clue. I'm almost disappointed if you weren't so cute when you are surprised like this." A satisfied grin plays around his plump lips, as if he revelling in the taste of this sweet opportunity in his hands. "Now be a good girl for me and finally do what you've been wanting to do for weeks. Tell me you want me."

You haven't taken a single breath since he started talking and as a result your head feels dizzy. It takes a short moment before you can finally form the words that your head is screaming at you.

"Please," you whisper pathetically.

"Please what, darling?" San revels in the way you can barely speak.

"Please ruin me."

You can basically see the fire behind his eyes ignite as you speak those three words. His hand wanders to your cheek, grabbing it firmly. He takes his sweet time to let his thumb run over your bottom lip, eyes trailing after his own movement.

"With pleasure."

Finally, his lips press onto yours in a desperate kiss. They feel just as soft as they always looked to you, but he kisses you with a roughness that is almost contradictory. The combination is intoxicating. As you reciprocate the kiss, heat runs through your limbs in shockwaves.

Suddenly impatient, San interrupts the kiss to pull you up and out of the chair by your arms. Grabbing your waist he manhandles you onto the dinner table instead, lifting you onto the ledge as if it was nothing.

Your hands bury in his hair as both your lips meet again in a rushed embrace. In return, San wedges one of his legs between yours and spreads your knees so he can stand between them. The way he handles you makes heat pool in your core. San has a determination to his every move that makes you want to do whatever he could want from you.

One of his hands still tightly grasping your waist, the other winds in your hair as he deepens the kiss. When his tongue enters your mouth you arch your back wanting to diminish every centimetre between you two. Your head is dizzy, completely overwhelmed by his every touch.

San's firm hands are restless on your heated body. His fingers quickly find a way to shift under your shirt and his thumb draws circles into the bare skin of your stomach. Choi San feels like a drug. His touch just as intoxicating as you always dreamed it to be.

He removes his mouth from your lips only to latch onto the fragile skin behind your ears, kissing his way around your neck. You let your head fall back to give him better access and when he starts sucking on your skin you relieve a small whimper.

You can feel San smirking into your skin as he sucks even more. It's like he has found your weakness and is now shamelessly using it to make you melt beneath his fingers. And it's working so well. Your hands lose grip on his hair as you lose your ability to focus on anything but San's lips on your neck.

"Don't tap out on me already, darling. I'm only getting started," he rasps into your ear in between kisses. You draw in a shaky breath at his words. Your legs feel like jelly even as your sitting down and you just know you won't be able to walk after San is finished with you.

He finally withdraws his lips and for a second just revels in your already dishevelled form: hair messy, red flush to your cheeks and lips glossy from kissing him.

"I'd love to have you on my dinner table but let's take this somewhere more comfortable for now," he says in a soft voice.

Hooking his hands under your thighs he picks you up from the table, carrying you towards his bedroom. Woken up from your trance by the change of motion you suddenly gain back some of your bite. While San is busied with carrying you, your fingers rush to the collar of his dress shirt. Oh how often you have dreamed of popping open those buttons one by one. And finally you have the pleasure to do so. A soft chuckle makes his chest move in front of you as San looks down on your actions.

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

"Why would I?" you reply cheekily as your hand smooths over his now exposed skin. He feels so soft and hot under your fingertips that you don't think you'll ever be able to detach.

San throws open his bedroom door with his shoulder and before you have a chance to take in the room you are thrown onto the plush bed. He follows behind immediately, hovering over you with both hands propped up next to your head. He lets his eyes run over your figure lazily, up and down.

"Don't even know where to start with you," he mumbles half to himself and half to you as he watches your chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. He decides to put on a show, sitting back on his heels and slowly continuing your work in unbuttoning his shirt.

Apart from his skin being exposed the simple act of opening some buttons shouldn't drive you as crazy as it does right now. It's simply the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your life. The way his hooded eyes stay on yours the entire time while one button after another falls open under his practiced movements.

You are moving on autopilot when you also sit up to take off your own shirt. You simply can't delay this any further. As your shirt lands somewhere beside the bed, San lets out a small groan, surprising you. He stopped in the middle of folding down his sleeves.

"How did you know that purple was my favourite colour?" He asks in a raspy voice. His eyes are raking over your deep purple bra with a desire in them that lets shivers run over your skin.

You can't imagine a better way to find out his favourite colour. You only chose it because it accentuates your skin tone but now it feels like fate to you. Finally, you are getting to the edges of Choi San. Getting to know him on a level that you were craving like the air you needed to breath.

"Good intuition," you reply. Your confidence surges under his heavy glances. Maybe a little too much. "Need help with that?" you ask him teasingly with a nod towards his shirt, which hangs open around his toned torso.

As soon as you speak those words you are getting pinned back to the bed, San's hand suddenly wrapped around your neck. He isn't putting any pressure on it yet but you can feel his strength pulsating around your neck. His broad shoulders are taking up most of your vision and with the way he glares at you you just know that you are soaked.

"Don't get too bold with me, darling," he says in a warning tone. "I'm the one in charge."

You look up at him through big, round eyes, lashes fluttering because you have a feeling that it will push just the right buttons in him.

"Go ahead then," you reply firmly. "Do whatever you want to me."

San sits up again and roughly tugs on his sleeves, finally discarding his shirt fully. Then his lips are on yours again in a heartbeat.

You greedily let your hands wander over his now fully exposed upper body. The muscles playing under his skin feel so good as he buries his hands in your hair. His biceps is so big that your fingers can barely wrap around it halfway. You can't get enough of touching his body which so far you only admired in fitted dressing shirts.

San kisses his way down from your lips again but this time he doesn't stop at your neck. Continuing down your chest he kisses the tender skin between your breasts. When he takes both hands to squish your breasts together, burying his face in between, you lose your last bit of composure.

"Please, San. Please just fuck me."

He lifts his head to smile at you devilishly. The fire behind his eyes seems so bright that you're scared it will never burn down again.

"Already begging for me? You're still half dressed and I'm only starting. Have a little patience."

As he finishes his words, his hand snakes behind your back to open your bra in a swift motion. He peels the straps off of you with a new found patience that makes you feel like you are suffocating.

When the piece of clothing lands on the floor, San's eyes are glued to your chest. Slowly, he lowers himself down again, gently taking on of your nipples into his mouth. As soon as his tongue starts lapping at you a string of moans escape you. He just feels so good.

Without ever losing focus on kissing and nipping on your chest, one of his hands wanders to your skirt. He finds the zipper so easily it feels like he has studied undressing you. He pushes it down your legs quickly, leaving you only in your underwear.

As his hand starts stroking your inner thighs, your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels like a dream.

"Please San. Please touch me," the words leave your mouth in whispers. Silent pleas for him to finally give you what you want.

"Is my darling so stressed from studying that she needs her mind taken off of things?" His fingers trail over your clothed heat as he asks you in a sickly sweet voice. His eyes are focussed on your face, taking in how you crumble beneath his touch.

"Yes. Yes, please," you whimper desperately. Every touch feels like electricity on your skin.

"Want me to stuff you full so you can forget everything you've studied for for weeks?" He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers toying at your entrance.

"Please San..." you repeat yourself weakly. Finally he gives into your pleading and sinks two of his fingers into you. You are so wet that they glide in with ease. You suck in a harsh breath as he begins pumping them in and out of you.

"God you feel so good. Can't wait to fuck you, my darling. Bury my cock so deep into you you forget your own name."

His words make you shake beneath him. You had a lot of suspicions about San in the bedroom due to your extensive daydreaming about him. But never did you expect him to be so vocal and downright dirty with his words. It catches you off-guard and only heightens your pleasure.

San scoots up on the bed a little so his face is hovering over yours again, while he slips a third finger into your heat. "How do I feel?" he asks with a raspy tone to his voice.

"You feel so fucking good, San," you moan in answer. His fingers stretch you out so deliciously and he reaches this spot deep inside you that makes you arch your back with every thrust.

"Yeah, you wanna come on my fingers?" he rasps into your ear now, lips again attaching to your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin.

"Please, San." You feel like a broken record that's repeating the same thing over and over. You grow closer and closer to an orgasm with every motion of his fingers inside you. But San has other plans for you. And when he feels you desperately clenching around his fingers, he pulls them out of you.

"I'm sorry darling," he says immediately, even though his face doesn't display any regret. "But you look so pretty when you're desperate. And I want you to come on my cock when I make you fall apart for the first time."

You feel like crying. You want nothing more but to come and yet him taking it from you only makes you want him more. You would do anything for Choi San.

He stands up from the bed and opens his belt. But before he can take of his pants, he orders you over with a motion of his finger. You sit on your knees at the edge of the bed in seconds, looking up at him expectantly.

He doesn't say a word and only gestures for his painfully strained pants. You don't need any more hints to start opening his pants and pulling them down his legs desperately. You hook your fingers into his boxers too but look up at him once more before continuing. When he nods at you you finally pull them down as well.

You can't help but stare at San's length. He's big, just like you had always imagined and he was rock-hard. When San takes himself into his hand and gives himself a few strokes you open your mouth on your own, sticking out your tongue in anticipation of tasting him.

San starts gently. His other hand weaves into your hair and he pulls you onto his length slowly. You are able to take a good amount of him before his tip hits the back of your throat and you release a surprised moan. San closes his eyes momentarily as he relishes in the feeling of your hot mouth around him.

"Shit, you feel so good," he rasps out before he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your hands seek hold on his muscular thighs and you look up at San through big and pleading eyes. Even though he isn't pleasuring you, this almost feels as good as having him bury his fingers inside you. All you ever dreamed about was him using you just like this and the feeling of it happening is so intoxicating you feel like you might pass out any second.

"Look at you enjoying my cock so damn much, that your eyes are losing focus," San chuckles. He looks down at you in disbelief as you mindlessly swirl your tongue around his cock. "You love being ruined by me, don't you?"

You can only manage a desperate nod and approving grunt as you continue sucking him of. No man has ever made you this desperate. As you look at him from beneath you feel like you have accomplished everything you ever wanted: his hair was dishevelled, his breaths uneven and a red tint painted his cheeks. All in all, Choi San lost his perfectly maintained appearance as you sucked on his cock and to you he looked 100 times prettier this way.

When his thrusts go sloppy, he pulls out of your mouth in a haste before he can come. "You're driving me crazy, darling," he grunts as he catches his breath for a second. In a more gentle tone he resumes: "Lay back on the bed for me, ok?"

You do as he says, laying down on your back in the middle of the bed, your body buzzing with the anticipation of what is to come. San goes to his dresser, opening a drawer to get a condom.

When he climbs over you he looks at you intensely. But at the same time his eyes hold a softness that makes you feel secure.

"Are you sure about going on, y/n?" he asks warmly. No petnames this time. He wants a clear answer.

"Never been so sure in my life," you reply with a smile and his lips mirror yours as he beams down at you.

Quickly he sits up to open the condom and roll it onto his member. Opening your legs with his knee he situates himself between you and positions his cock at your entrance. One hand on your hip and the other holding his cock, he slowly sinks himself into you while carefully observing your face.

Your eyes flutter when he is fully inside of you and you moan at the feeling. San releases a grunt as well and waits a few seconds deep inside of you.

"Fuck, you're so tight for me, my darling. Don't worry I won't stop this time until you come." And with that he starts thrusting into you. He begins with slow and deep thrusts but as soon as you get used to his size he speeds up rapidly.

His abs are flexing underneath is skin as he grabs onto your hip and pistons himself into you. With every thrust you can feel him hit this spongy part deep inside of you that makes heat build in your core with a throbbing intensity. Meanwhile you revel in the sight above you: San looks like a god. His muscular body moving above you is almost enough to push you over the edge but what's even more entrancing is his face. His expressions seem almost possessed. Like a demon took over him as soon as he started fucking you, he fixes his eyes onto yours.

"Am I fucking you good? Making you forget all your precious studies?" There they are again. His filthy words driving you down a one-way-road to insanity. "I hope you forget everything so you have to see me even more, darling. Then I can keep on fucking this tight little cunt over and over again."

"Fuck, San!" you moan out, being shocked by his words. His control over you is baffling and you can't help but grow closer and closer to your orgasm with every word.

"I know you like me like that, darling. Do me a favour and come on my cock so I can finally see you lose yourself will you?"

You can't form an answer. Endless moans tumble out of your mouth in increasing volume and San knows he has you exactly where he wants.

"Come for me."

Your orgasm hits you with an explosive intensity. Faintly, you notice yourself moan at a concerning volume as your high washes over your body. But San doesn't seem to mind. Your legs are shaking and he helps you ride out the feeling with slower strokes. He waits for your breath to slow down again before he leans down to you and places a gentle kiss onto your lips.

"I want you on your knees in front of me," he says sweetly as soon as your lips separate and your head is spinning. Still you manage to get up with the help of his arm beneath your waist and you let yourself be positioned in front of San, your back to him.

Since you didn't have the opportunity to examine his bedroom earlier you only now notice the big mirror on his wardrobe next to his bed. Looking ahead, you can now see yourself on your knees, sitting in front of San.

You look even more dishevelled than you feel: Your hair is all over the place and some of your eyeliner smudged and a handful of dark purple marks littering your neck. Also, a red tint covers your skin, making you look flushed. San behind you smirks as you examine your own figure.

"You look so pretty all messed up like this for me, don't you think?"

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans your body back onto his broad chest. You look tiny in front of his build.

"I'll make you look even prettier," he promises as he sinks himself back into you.

He picks up his intense pace from before and you already feel dizzy again. With his arm holding you tight he is basically lifting you up and down his cock. At this angle he is hitting you deeper than before and you are sure you won't last very long until your next high.

But nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of San winding his other arm around you too, his fingers gently starting to stroke your clit. Your head falls back onto San's shoulder as you give in to the mind-numbing pleasure that starts buzzing through your body.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart."

His voice sounds sulky, almost cute. It doesn't match his relentless thrusts and his fingers pleasuring you. It takes all your strength to lift your head again and look at San through the mirror. His eyes are hooded now, a shin layer of sweat making his flawless skin shine in the evening light.

"You make me feel so good," you manage to say as San keeps on pounding into you. You want him to know how he makes you feel. How good he is being to you.

"Am I?" He smiles in satisfaction as he watches your brows draw together with a particularly deep thrust. "You too, darling. You feel so good around me I don't think I can last much longer. But you'll come one more time for me, right?"

His voice sounds so deep and sultry in your ears. "Of course, Sannie," you mumble absent-mindedly. You don't even notice the nickname until he chuckles behind you.

"How can you be so cute and so sexy at the same time? You'll be the death of me, my good little girl."

He places a kiss onto your cheek and that is what finally drives you over the edge.

"Fuck, San. I'm coming," you moan out before your high crashes over you. If he wasn't holding you, you would fall to the ground. You try to hold eye contact with San through the reflection but your eyes keep on shutting as waves of pleasure roll over you. You have never felt such an intensity before.

But San's thrust don't slow down this time. He keeps on rutting into you relentlessly, driving you to insanity. You feel like you're swimming in a pool of pleasure.

"I'm close, darling. Just a little longer," San's voice is pitched higher than before, sounding just as desperate as you feel. You want nothing more but for him to come.

"Please, Sannie. I want you to come so bad."

Your desperate pleas are San's final straw. Clutching your body tight to his own, he finishes with his cock buried deep inside you. You can feel him pulsating in your heat and your moans mix into his grunts as you milk him for every last drop of his cum.

As you both slowly recover San pulls out of you and gently lays you back onto the bed. You can't do anything but catch your breath while he gets up to rid himself of the condom and return to you with a glass of water.

"Drink something," he urges you on and you take the glass from him. He watches you with a tinge of worry in his eyes. After taking a few sips you offer the glass back to him.

"You should drink some too, I'm sure you worked your body more than I did."

He smiles at your words and takes some water too before returning the glass to his bedside table. When he looks back at you there is a heaviness to his gaze that worries you.

"What is it?" you ask.

San takes a deep breath before answering you. "No matter what I said to you before, I actually didn't expect us to tumble into this as quickly as we did right now. And I want you to know that I didn't do this to use you or take any advantage of you."

His hand nervously grabs for the back of his neck. "Actually, I've been interested in you ever since we first met but I fear the tension between us was quicker than both of us."

You try to process his words even in your hazy state of mind. A spark of excitement surges through your body as you realize what he is saying.

"I feel the same, San," you reply truthfully. "I like you. And not just because you're insanely handsome."

You are glad when he laughs shyly at your words.

"So maybe I can take you out on a date that doesn't involve work or pharmacy studies sometime?"

"I hope sometime means this week, because I waited long enough for you already."

After everything that happened this evening, this moment when he smiles at you might be what makes your heart beat the fastest. You can't believe your luck as you look Choi San into the eyes and he leans in for a kiss.

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

"This was a stupid idea," you say to San but maybe more to yourself. "I should tell her alone."

"How will she ever respect me again if I let you do this alone?" San replies worriedly. "She told me to tutor you and now here we are. I will look terrible either way."

You have never seen him this nervous. But after all, your mother has the ability to make everybody scared for their life. You two pass her assistant's desk with a polite greeting as you head straight for your mother's office. She knows you are coming but she doesn't know you're bringing company.

You knock carefully on the door until her voice calls you in. Your mother stays seated as you two enter the room. She doesn't look surprised or confused about San's appearance but rather intrigued.

"Why are you visiting me today, y/n?" she asks simply.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you prepare for answering.

"I have something to announce to you," you start off as confident as you can.

Your mother's eyes flick between you and San. "Go on."

"San- ... Mr. Choi and I, we are..." your voice is shaking. Why is this so hard for you?

But San grabs for your hand, linking his fingers with yours as he confidently finishes your sentence: "We are in a relationship, director Kim."

His boldness strikes you as admiring. Maybe he was right about accompanying you.

A silence that draws out unbearably long fills the room. You feel like your lungs are being compressed with every passing second.

Then your mother smiles. It's not exactly a smile of happiness. It speaks more of victory.

"Finally," she announced. "It took you two longer than I expected."

Now it's your turn to be silent. Both you and San are stunned in your places.

Finally you find your voice to ask: "What do you mean, mom?"

She smiles at you in satisfaction.

"You see: Mr. Choi is a good man. He's a gentleman, treats his colleagues with the utmost respect, excels at his job and is handsome too. How could I find a better match for my beloved daughter? But I know you wouldn't be interested if I were to formerly introduce you two so I thought I'd help you in a different way."

Your mouth falls open in shock. Out of all things, your mother purposefully setting you up with San has never even crossed your mind. Your boyfriend seems even more shocked at the revelation than you, his face reddened and a stunned expression on his face.

"So you set us two up?" You finally ask your mother.

"Of course I did! And it worked out brilliantly, don't you think? I'm glad you both came to tell me. Mr. Choi?"

San perks up at her words. "Yes?"

"I assume you will take good care of my daughter?"

"Of course I will," he replies sternly, voice full of sincerity. "I will do everything care for y/n." His words make you feel warm and fuzzy.

Your mother nods approvingly. "Then you two may leave. I still have work to do."

You both nod hastily and thank your mother before turning back for the door.

"Oh, before I forget. Y/n?" your mother asks one last time.

"Yes?"

"I received your test results that you sent me. They look very promising."

I hope you enjoyed <3 Pls reblog and leave feedback if you can :)

Tags: @voicesinmyhead-rc

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #beginningofwonderland #smut fanfic #ateez fanfiction #san smut #san x y/n #san x reader #san fanfic #san x you

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milesmorkri · 2 years ago

Text

i remember the first piece of music i ever wrote. i was in sixth grade. the piece was comprised solely of 2nd inversion chords (a reorganized triad with the 5th as the lowest note). i did not know this distinction at the time. i didn't know the specific chords i was playing. all i knew is that i liked the sound of it. i liked how it felt to play. it felt impressive. yet, it still didn't feel like it was mine. it didn't feel like it was my decision to write it.

my parents are both professional musicians. my mother, a music teacher, and my father, a drummer. they are both complex individuals, but as parents, they mostly did their collective best. they had three children together: my older sister, Anna, my older brother, Max, and then me (Miles).

when we were 10, 8, and 4 (respectively), my parents enrolled us in the local swim team despite our protests against it. why would we want to attend a 2-hour swim practice every week night, and wake up at 5am every Saturday for meets during the summer months. we repeated that same schedule for the next 10 years.

when i was in 1st grade, my mother enrolled me in piano lessons. in 3rd grade, i was enrolled in violin lessons. 6th grade, i started drum lessons. 8th grade, voice lessons. it was never my choice. i never questioned it, either. i just assumed that this was what every kid did.

as a result of the high number of activities (in addition to an ADHD diagnosis that my parents had no idea how handle), my school grades were absolutely terrible. why would i care about school when the clearly more important tasks were outside of it. my parents would get messages from my teachers about missing assignments, and then interrogate me as to why i hadn't finished the work.

on top of juggling everything else, i was told that i was going to be joining a children's theater company in 7th grade (which my sister had done a few years prior). for two years during the spring and autumn seasons, i rehearsed every other night in a town 50 minutes away. each season, our company performed in over 30 locations across the Midwest. at the end of my fourth season, i was about to enter high school, where bigger and better performances lied ahead. my mother graciously allowed me to retire from the children's theater.

high school began, and with it started musicals, band, choir, marching band, jazz band, madrigal, vocal jazz (yes really), chordsmen, percussion ensemble, pep band, drama club, etc. my brain was noisy. so many things to do. i became an expert at compartmentalization. why think about school when i had a rehearsal right afterwards? why think about a big exam on Friday when i had a performance on Saturday? my GPA was awful and grades and assignments were now viewable online thanks to a website called Infinite Campus. my mother would check every day. she would ask me about a late assignment or bad grade every day. i was given a tutor. i was to go there every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening before any rehearsals. this tutor, however, soon became one of my best friends.

she was my neighbor across the street. she had never been a tutor before. as our sessions began, she quickly realized that i was overwhelmed with every aspect of my life. she would use these sessions as moments to teach me how to relax, refocus, and ease the burden of the world. yes, she taught me how to take notes and study for school, but she also taught me how to cook. she taught me how to enjoy the simplest and quietest moments of life. she became my second mother, and still is to this day.

all that said, the damage to my grades at this point was irreversible. i ended high school with a ~1.9 GPA. i had absolutely no clue what to do with my life. i applied, auditioned, and was accepted to a few music programs in the state of Wisconsin, but i was completely and utterly burnt out with music. i had no energy left to be interested or engaged in what felt like a new way my parents found to control the direction of my life.

my ultimate rebellion against my parents wasn't drugs or alcohol (which i certainly did partake in to ease the stress in both middle school and high school), it was attending the local community college with the goal of becoming a business major. i had been conditioned my entire life to focus on music so this decision was as liberating as it was depressing. in defiance of my parents' wishes, i spent the next two years trying to become a "Business Person" (whatever that means).

surprisingly, i became a good student during community college. without the constant slew of extra-curricular activities, i was able to focus on my school work and study. to maintain consistency, i still saw my tutor twice a week. it was during one of those sessions that i showed my tutor a piece of music i was working on for a friend's school game project. after listening, she turned to me and said "you need to pursue music. stop kidding yourself, Miles." i applied for music school the following week and attended the next fall. i have a degree in music composition now. i am a full time composer and teacher now.

i think what i needed all along was for someone other than my parents tell me to pursue music. to feel like that decision came from anyone besides them. now i fool myself every day into thinking that it was my choice, and not my parents'. i am grateful for all of the training and support they gave me growing up. at the same time, i sometimes wish i could have stumbled upon music organically rather than having been forced to do it. i wish i could have been a normal kid for a little while.

my pursuit of a career in music took me all across the country. it led me to multiple ERs, unsolved chronic symptoms, suicidal ideation, therapists, anti-depressants, and thousands of dollars of medical debt. that's a story for another time though.

i spent a good amount of my life thinking i was stupid because i didn't have aptitude in other subjects. it became so entrenched in my mind that i still think i'm stupid sometimes, and that really hurts. that did some damage! wow! my tip for parents: let your kid explore subjects that you aren't interested in. sometimes they just need to find things out for themselves. in other words, sometimes you need to let them "fuck around and find out."

i am the result of an extremely privileged youth. my middle-class parents spent most of their money and time on their children. they loved me enough to sacrifice their busy schedules for my benefit. that is something a lot of people don't have growing up, and, as i've said already, i am very grateful.

if you made it this far into reading this, i am sorry.

#childhood #parents #musician #ouch

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years ago

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Seasons of PD: Season 7: Don’t You Ever Do That Again, You Hear Me? (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

A/N: There are mentions of B1ack Liv3s M4tter (apparently this ended up in that tag, so I changed the wording, so hopefully it’s not there anymore) in regards to peaceful protests in this. And there are mentions of counter-protesters causing riots. I tried my best to portray this as professionally as possible with Y/N's views, Kevin's views, and Jay's views. I did not try to offend anyone at all and I'm very sorry if I did.

Also, I don't know if one part counts as threat of sexual coercion, but I'm fairly certain that's what it's called, so trigger warning for that.

Your age: 18

Jay's age: 32

Will's age: 34

"I get that it's important to you, but I'm not letting you go!" Jay argued as you stood across from him in a screaming match.

"Why? Because You don't believe the same things as me because you haven't met a bad cop? Because you fought for this country and know people who died for it?" you yelled back.

"Yes, me being a cop and a soldier obviously has something to do with this! But I'm also trying to keep you safe! They turn into riots!"

"You do know that's not the Black Lives Matter protesters who start them, right? They're peaceful. Counter-protesting assholes come and start things to give peaceful protesters a bad image!"

"I don't want you to get hurt if something happens! Tear gas hurts, kid. I don't want you to come home with burning eyes and the possibility of going blind and tell me I'm right. I'm trying to prevent that!"

"I know you are, Jay! I just want you to let me have my own damn opinions and do what I want for once!"

"Has a cop ever hurt you in some way? Pulled you over illegally?" Jay roared.

You wanted to tell him your story about something like that that had happened five weeks ago, two weeks after the infection scare across the entire city, but you couldn't because you knew he'd do something stupid and you didn't want that. "No, but--"

His phone rang, cutting you off. "I'll be there," Jay said quickly. Then, he turned back to you. "I gotta go, caught a case. I'll see you later and we can talk about this. Calmly."

"So, you're saying there's a chance you'll let me go?"

"There's maybe a .001% chance, but sure, believe what you want."

You rolled your eyes and he left. But, as he shut and locked the apartment door, he stopped. "Love you," he whispered. Because, with what he did on the job, he knew that there was the possibility every day of him not coming home to you.

***

When you woke up, you were shocked not to see a text from Jay between 3 and 5 am saying that he wouldn't make it home tonight. He usually made it a priority when on a case to tell you that he wouldn't be coming home so that you wouldn't worry.

But, there was a voicemail from him around 11 pm last night and it was currently 9 am.

You put your phone on speaker and played it.

"Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry about arguing. If you really want to go, I think Kevin has his RDO tomorrow so I can see if he's going if you-- OW!" Then, the line just continued playing, and dragging noises were heard until there was a crash and the line went dead.

"Jay? Jay?" What the hell had happened? You quickly replayed the message to make sure it wasn't an issue with your phone, but when you heard the same exact thing again, you knew something had gone terribly wrong.

You went to dial Hailey's number to ask if she had seen Jay when there was a loud knock on your door. You quickly ran across the apartment and looked out the peephole. You saw Hailey and Adam and quickly flung open the door.

"Hey, Y/N," Adam said as he entered.

"Have you guys seen Jay?" you asked.

You saw Hailey visibly swallow. "Listen," she started, but you cut her off.

"What happened? What's going on? He usually texts me if he's going to be working until the morning and I didn't get a text and I got a voicemail and--" You took a deep, gasping breath.

"What voicemail?" Hailey asked as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

"I- It cut off partway through and he yelled and-- wait, he wasn't with you?"

"No," Hailey answered. "He said he had some personal stuff to take care of when we were at a scene and then took off. Then, he never came back, so we decided to check here to see if he just came home or something happened."

"He never came home." Your eyes widened, finally processing what it meant if he wasn't here and Intelligence couldn't find him. "You're telling me he's missing? Again? Oh, no. This can't be happening, not again. Not after our fight last night. I didn't even tell him what happened or that I loved him or--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath," Hailey told you and you tried to match her breathing. "His radio might just be dead or something like that." She knew that she was lying, but she was trying to stop you from freaking out. "Can you give me your phone so Adam and I can listen to the voicemail?"

You nodded and handed Adam your phone. He pressed play and you watched as his jaw clenched as he was listening to it.

"Shit," he muttered once he was done. "We need you to come to the district with us. Just for safety."

"Can you give me a minute?" you asked. "I- I'm in my pajamas and I haven't brushed my teeth and--"

"We'll leave in half an hour, okay?" Hailey asked and you nodded. "While you're getting ready, we'll send the voicemail over to Kim and Kev. Jay's gonna be okay."

"How do you know that?" you almost whispered.

"Because Jay's one of the strongest people I know," she answered. But, in reality, she wasn't sure about that. They had no idea where he was and according to the timestamp on that voicemail, it had been a little over ten hours since he sent it. For all they knew, Jay could be out of Chicago right now. Scratch that, he could be out of Illinois.

***

"When did you get this voicemail?" Hank asked as everyone in Intelligence, minus Jay but including you, were in the bullpen and trying to trace where the call came from.

"Around 11 last night, Boss," Adam answered for you.

"Okay. So it's been almost 11 hours," Voight said.

"I need a break, excuse me," you said and quickly excused yourself to the locker room.

You made your way to the locker room and sat down and leaned against the wall. This couldn't be happening again, not after that crazy borderline sociopathic drug dealer kidnapped Jay a few years ago and Erin went in and saved him. This could not be happening again.

You thought back to the fight last night and something your mom would always say when she was in a fight with one of the boys or when you had thrown a temper tantrum and then had to go to bed.

I'll always tell you I love you because when you walk out that door or go to bed, I'll never know if that was the last chance I had to tell you I love you.

God, if you hadn't argued with Jay, maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Obviously, you'd be feeling scared and upset because Jay was missing and no one had any idea where he was, but at least you wouldn't feel guilty like you currently did.

You felt guilty about starting that fight in the first place by bringing it up even though you knew what his answer was going to be. You felt guilty about yelling. But most of all, you felt guilty and you regretted not saying love you when he left...because that might've been the last time you'd have been able to tell that to your big brother who had always been there for you...even when he really didn't want to.

Jay's Nokia flip phone buzzed as he walked out of school. It was his mom.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted.

"Jay Halstead, if you answered your phone while you're driving..." she trailed off, trying to think of a good threat.

"Mom, I didn't. I was talking to some friends about going for tacos tonight, so I just walked out of school a minute ago."

"Oh," she said.

"What oh?" Jay asked. "That sounded like a bad oh, Mom."

"Well, I wish I would've known that before a professor called in sick to give an exam to his students and I agreed to pick up the extra hours."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't bring Y/N to the dentist. And I thought since you weren't busy, you could. I also may or not have promised her that she could go to Build-A-Bear after to get a new outfit for Beary because she's so scared."

"Mom," Jay groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry. But, how about this: you do this for me, and I'll extend your curfew by two hours on Friday and Saturday."

"Three," Jay countered.

"Two." Amelia Halstead stood strong.

"Three."

"Two and a half."

"Deal," Jay agreed.

"Thank you. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you, too."

***

"No," you whined as Jay told you that you had to leave after he walked you home from school later. "I don't wanna go to the dentist. They scary."

"No, they're not," Jay told you. The doctor was what was scary for him with all the needles for the shots. But, the dentist had never bothered him, even when he was a little kid it had never bothered him.

"No!"

"What if I let you bring Beary into the dentist, would you go then?" Jay practically pleaded.

"And you give me chocolate before we leave?"

"If you promise to grab your toothbrush and brush your teeth in the bathroom at the dentist, then yes, I'll give you some chocolate to eat on the way there." Jay was desperate at this point. He knew he shouldn't be giving you everything you wanted, but what were big brothers with a giant age gap for anyway if not to try and spoil his little sister?

"Okay!" You ran off to go grab Beary and your toothbrush and toothpaste while Jay made his way to a high cabinet in the kitchen and grabbed five squares of Dove milk chocolate, three for you and two for him.

In the car, Jay handed you the cholates and you started eating them while you held Beary close to you, trying to gain some comfort out of your favorite stuffed animal.

***

You gripped Jay's hand as you sat and waited for your name to be called. Beary was held in your other hand and you were squeezing him tight against your chest. You had just brushed your teeth like you promised Jay that you would, but you were still utterly terrified.

"Y/N Halstead?" a dental hygienist came out and asked.

You didn't say a word, just held Jay's hand tighter.

"That's you," Jay said gently and with a smile on his face, trying to make you feel less scared.

"No, not me," you told him as you frantically shook your head.

The dental hygienist squatted down in front of you. "Are you Y/N?" You didn't do anything, but Jay must've nodded to confirm that it was indeed you. "And who's this?" she asked as she shook Beary's paw.

"Beary," you said shyly.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that Beary will be with you the entire time. We even have little sunglasses you and he can wear when we shine the really bright light on you to protect both your little eyes. Does that sound good?"

You turned to Jay. "Me and Beary get sunglasses, Jay Jay!"

"I heard! Do you want me to come back with you?"

You thought for a second. "Please come."

Jay laughed. "Okay." He turned to the dental hygienist. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly fine."

You stood up and held Jay's hand as you walked back into the dentist to get your six-month check-up on your baby teeth.

***

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Jay asked as the two of you walked out to his car after you finished.

"No!" you said as you shook your head. "I even got a pretty bracelet with Belle on it, see?" you exclaimed as you held your hand out to him to show off your yellow bracelet with a charm that had Belle from Beauty and the Beast on it.

Jay acted all surprised and said it was pretty even though he watched as you had picked it out while he had explained to the secretary how your mom would call to schedule your next appointment in six months.

Jay opened his car and made sure you were buckled in and then got in himself and started driving.

"Do you know where we're going?"

You gasped. You had forgotten you got to go to Build-A-Bear after!

"Build-A-Bear!" you yelled. The volume of that yell would've made Jay wince had he not been driving.

"Yup, that's where we're going."

"I think I'm gonna get Beary some new pajamas," you decided.

"What color?"

You held Beary out in front of you. "What color pjs do you want, Beary?" You brought him up to your ear and nodded as he "told" you what color pajamas he wants. "He said blue!"

"Blue pajamas. I'm pretty sure we can find those."

***

Jay and you walked into Build-A-Bear Workshop at the mall and you were met with children running around. To Jay, this was the definition of hell. Except for you, he was fine with you running around, but he really didn't like all the other kids that he had to be careful not to bump into.

"C'mon, Jay Jay!" you told him as you tugged him along to the pajama section.

He allowed himself to be tugged along by you and then you held up almost every single pair of blue pajamas to Beary to see which one was his favorite. He had decided on a pair of light blue pajamas with stars all over them. There was even a cute little hat with a pom-pom on top to go with the pajamas.

Jay paid and then you left with Beary and his brand-new pajamas. You had plans to have him sleep in those pajamas tonight, too.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay hadn't even really wanted to come. The only reason he brought you was that he got his curfew extended. But to you, it was just another fun afternoon with your big brother.

You were startled out of your daydream when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Kevin.

"It's fine. I'm fine," you said quickly.

"No, you're not. And that's okay. Hailey and Voight went to see if Jay's where his phone pinged at."

"We fought," you told him.

"You fought?" Kevin asked as he slid down the wall to sit next to you.

"It was stupid. I should've just agreed with him and maybe I wouldn't be feeling like this."

"Like what?"

"Like utter shit." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "We were arguing about the BLM protests that were happening tonight. I wanted to go, but he wouldn't let me. The last thing I did was roll my eyes at him, Kev."

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments while Kevin figured out how to comfort you.

"Maybe talking about it will help. What'd you argue about?"

"Just that I wanted to go and he wouldn't let me because he thinks riots will break out. And you and I both know that's not the BLM protesters, that's the counter-protesters. But, he thinks I'll get hurt. I also think it's because he's a cop, so he feels like I'm protesting him, but I'm not. I'm protesting the system."

Kevin nodded. "I get it. Believe me, I do. I live it every day."

"How do you do it?" you asked. "Be an activist and a cop at the same time?"

"Just try and do the right thing with the information you have. And, explain that you're protesting the system and the bad apples, not the police force as a whole."

"I tried. But Jay doesn't think I have a right to protest because I've never had a bad experience with a cop." Which was a lie, but you weren't ready to talk about that just yet.

"Did he say that exactly?" Kevin asked.

"No, but, he asked me if a cop has ever illegally pulled me over."

Kevin nodded. "I know Jay and I know he would never say that you didn't have the right protest. He fought for that right. He mention anything else?"

"That tear gas hurts."

"I think he just wanted to keep you safe, same thing I'd do for Jordan and Vanessa."

"He sounded like he changed his mind on his voicemail, though. He thought that maybe if you were going, then he'd let me go...at least, that's what it sounded like."

Kevin nodded. "All I can say is that until we found Jay, I'm not going to one. Getting your brother is my first priority and it's the first priority of everyone in this unit."

"My first priority, too."

"Kev!" Adam yelled as he banged on the door. "You in there?"

"Yeah, bro! What's up?" Kevin asked.

"We need you to meet with someone!"

***

The hours passed and with each of them that did, you got more and more nervous for Jay's safety. You guessed that this is how he felt when you asked if you could go to the protest, knowing that he'd constantly be worrying about you until you came home safely.

"Y/N, we gotta go," Trudy said as she entered the bullpen around 9:30 pm that night.

"Why? What's going on?" you asked as you grabbed your phone and started following her.

"They found Jay."

"Is he okay?" you asked quickly.

"Y/N..."

"No! He can't be dead, Trudy! He can't!" you wailed.

"He's not. But, he has been shot."

You froze. Shot. Jay had been shot.

"He's en route to Chicago Med right now."

"Can you- can you bring me there?"

"That's where we're going right now."

***

"Will!" you yelled as you ran into the ED and saw your oldest brother.

You ran right up to him and hugged him, not caring that he almost dropped his iPad he had been using to chart.

"Whoa, Y/N." He set the iPad down. "Hey, I know. But Crockett's operating on him right now and he's one of the best surgeons in the hospital."

"I thought you were better than him. You need to do the surgery, Will. you need to save Jay!"

"Y/N, I know it sucks, but I'm family. As much as I want to operate on him, I can't legally do that."

You paused and looked up at him. His eyes were slightly red, but he hadn't been bawling the way that you had been.

"Dr. Halstead! Incoming!" Maggie yelled.

"What does she mean?" you asked, still hanging onto him. "You're still working?"

"There's been a ten-car pile-up on the highway. I have to. It's my job."

"But Jay's in surgery!" you yelled as you pulled away from him. "These people are more important to you than your own brother?"

"They aren't but--"

"But you're working anyway instead of waiting to find out what happens to him?"

"I can't do anything to help Jay right now. But I can help all these people who are pouring in."

"Dr. Halstead!" Maggie shouted again.

"I'll be up in a few hours, I promise," Will told you.

***

A few hours had passed and it was now past midnight. Jay was still in surgery. Will was sitting next to you, in a spare pair of clothes he had packed instead of his scrubs that were covered in blood, and you were leaning your head on his shoulder, close to being asleep.

That was until Crockett came out and Will jumped up, causing your head to hit the back of the chair.

"Ow," you mumbled.

"Sorry," Will apologized and then turned back to Crockett. "What's the verdict?"

"He lost a lot of blood," Crockett told the two of you.

"But he's gonna pull through, right?" Will asked what the two of you were both thinking.

"We'll be out of blood soon."

"What do you mean out of blood?" Will asked, taking a step toward the surgeon. "There's no way you can be out of blood!"

"With that pile-up, we can. I'd recommend you go and say your goodbyes and pray for a miracle."

Will put his hands on the back of his head and started pacing the room. Your breath caught in your throat. This could not be happening. Jay couldn't die, he just couldn't.

Crockett started to walk back towards the operating room.

"Wait!" you yelled. You didn't know what had taken over you, but at this moment, you'd do anything to save your brother. You rolled up your sleeve. "Take my blood."

"Y/N," was all Will could manage to get out.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but there's protocol for that. I'd love to let you do it, but--"

"Fuck protocol!" you yelled, all the anger and sadness and anxiety that had built up over the past fifteen hours exploding at this very moment. "Rush my labs. Or don't even get my labs done at all. I haven't had sex, so I don't have any STDs. I don't have any diseases or deficiencies since I moved in with Jay years ago. My blood type's O-neg, so I'm a universal donor. Take my goddamn blood, Crockett!" You didn't care that all that information was out in the open because you were barely processing what you were saying. The only thing you cared about was making sure that your brother was okay.

"Y/N," Will said as he walked up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't touch me! And you sure as hell don't want to tell me to calm down!"

"Y/N," Will started again as he took his hand off your shoulder. "What Crockett's saying is that it's not ethical for him to do this. He could get fired."

"Where's the paperwork?" you asked as you turned back to Crockett. "I'll sign whatever I have to sign to make sure you aren't liable at all, that I'm donating this of my own free will. You can even take double the amount of blood that you normally do since I'm a universal donor. Just get me the paperwork."

Crockett and Will shared a look.

"I'll go get a nurse to get you the paperwork."

"Wait, no, no, no," Will said as he walked closer to Crockett. "You can't be serious about this!"

"She said she'll sign it."

"But, I have to co-sign it since she's a minor. So, no, you are not donating blood, Y/N. You almost passed out when I drew vials of your blood years ago. You know what's gonna happen if we take two units of blood? You are gonna feel like utter shit."

"Last I checked, I'm 18, so I can sign my own paperwork! God, I'm not a fucking child anymore, Will! I can make my own decisions!" you yelled back. "And if I don't do this, Jay will die. He'll die, Will. So, I'm giving him my blood with or without your support."

***

You sat in a chair, the ones that Will had told you about years ago with the big padded bar thing that came down in front of you in case you passed out. Typically, they'd just have you lay down in a bed, but since they were short on beds and Will told them that you had a history of getting dizzy and nauseous during simple blood draws, they had decided to put you here instead.

"Last chance to back out," Will told you as the nurse tied off your arm with a blue rubber tie and started to rub your arm to get the big vein in your left forearm to show.

"Jay's dying. No way in hell am I backing out."

Will sighed. He knew you were doing the right thing, but he also knew that you were going to feel terrible after, and he hated seeing you like that. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay here until they get the needle in you and then I'll get you some juice and cookies."

"Ready?" Monique asked.

"Ready," you confirmed. You turned to Will and squeezed your eyes shut as the needle pierced your vein. You heard the sound of the machine and knew your blood was going in there, but you didn't want to look. Getting your blood drawn, you could watch. But this, this was just too much blood to see, so you looked at Will.

"Doing okay?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah," you answered because that was the absolute truth: you were feeling just fine.

"Okay, I'm gonna go get you some cookies and juice. I'll get an update on Jay while I'm out there, too."

You nodded and he left the room.

This wasn't so bad.

***

Okay, so you were lying to yourself. You were currently in hell. Giving the blood hadn't been an issue, it was how you felt after you were done giving blood.

You were currently sitting in that same chair, drinking some juice that Will had brought you. He told you that there was still no update on Jay, but that they were sending the blood back to him right now. (They had rushed labs on a small vial of blood that Monique took before you started the donation. The results came back while you were giving blood, and since your blood was clean, you could give it to Jay.) But, God, but you felt absolutely awful.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

You shook your head and then stopped because it made you dizzy and put your head in your hands. "No," you groaned.

He handed you a glass of water. "Drink a bit of this too and then I'll open your pack of cookies."

"Why do you want me to drink water and not juice?" you asked as you closed your eyes and tried to stop the spinning in your head.

"Because, you're sweating, Short Stack. Need you to stay hydrated."

You took a few sips of water and then went back to your juice. Will handed you your pack of chocolate chip cookies and you started to eat them.

"Mhm," you groaned and laid your head down on the padded bar thing in front of you that kept you from falling out of the chair. "I don't feel so good."

You felt hot and cold at the same time and the world seemed to spin every time you lifted your head up. And, those cookies did not sit well with you.

"How do you feel? What hurts?" Will asked, jumping into doctor mode since Monique wasn't around. Will assured her that he could look after you while you recovered from your blood being donated at twice the normal amount.

"I just feel like shit," you told him, not picking up your head.

"You gotta give me some symptoms. Give me some symptoms and then I can help."

"Mhm, fine." You looked up at him and blinked slowly. "I feel hot and cold and sweaty. And I feel dizzy and nauseous."

"Okay. That's either a vasovagal reaction or from your blood pressure being low or from your heart rate being slowed down."

"What's that reaction thingy?"

"You don't like blood in general, so a nervous system response can happen, which could explain your reactions. But, your BP could also be low, which could explain all this too. And, it's one in the morning and you haven't slept yet, so tiredness could also be a factor."

"Great," you said sarcastically as you remembered the last time your blood pressure was low.

You had taken some of Jay's medication that he had to ward off his PTSD-induced nightmares after you were involved in a shooting at a house party. The one time you took them without sleeping directly after, you felt almost exactly like this...except without the sweatiness. You just mostly felt dizzy. You had called Will, he came over, and then you ended passing out and he had to get you to Med. Then you were admitted and they got your pressure back up. You were also prescribed sleeping pills which had helped immensely.

Will grabbed a blood pressure cuff from a drawer. "Arm," he told you. You held out your arm and he wrapped the cuff around it and pumped the end of it.

You waited as he looked at the gauge on the blood pressure cuff. Will said one number over another number, which meant nothing to you, but must've meant something to him. You raised your eyebrows, hoping he was going to tell you what those numbers meant in non-medical English terms.

"BP's low, which explains most of the symptoms," he told you.

You took another bite of your cookie and washed it down with some juice, but then immediately after started dry heaving.

Will rushed around and then thrust a pink basin under your mouth.

You took a deep breath after you finally stopped dry heaving about thirty seconds later.

"Better?" Will asked. You shook your head. "I'm going to get you an IV of anti-nausea medication."

You were going to argue with him about how he wasn't working, so he probably couldn't get you that. And, you were fairly certain he couldn't prescribe things to family. But, you felt terrible, so you really don't care if Will was being reckless and borderline unethical/illegal right now.

You nodded and then laid your head back down.

When Will came back, he thought you were asleep, but when you heard footsteps, you looked up.

"Alright," he began as he assembled the IV. "Last poke of the day, I promise."

"After this can I take a nap in the on-call room?" you asked as you held your arm out to him once again.

"You know I can't let you do that." Will tied a blue band around your arm and started rubbing it to get a vein in the inside of your elbow. Then, he noticed your pale and sweaty face. "Fine. Hopefully, Goodwin won't fire me after this. But I have a good reason. Turn so you don't see the needle."

You did and closed your eyes. You felt the poke and squeezed your eyes shut, but then it subsided and you felt that weird feeling of the medicine going straight into your veins. God, you hoped this worked.

You hoped Jay would survive because you didn't just go through all that for nothing.

***

You slowly opened your eyes as you felt someone shaking your shoulder. "No," you groaned as you turned to face the other side of the bed.

But then you remembered where you were: the doctors on-call room because Jay had been shot. Maybe it was Will waking you up to tell you--

"Short Stack, wake up. Jay's awake."

That got you wide awake.

You snapped your eyes open, rolled over, and jumped out of bed.

"I take it you're feeling better?" Will asked.

"Sleep helps. Let's go!"

Will quickly led you out of the room and through some hallways and up a few flights of stairs to Jay's recovery room.

He was currently talking to Hailey.

"Jay!" you exclaimed as you burst into the room to see him with a sling and see Hailey helping him with his jacket.

"Hey, Short Stack," he greeted and then turned his attention back to Hailey. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Uh, just that I'm glad you're back," she told him. "I'll give you some time with your siblings." She turned her attention to Will. "Oh, and the things you told me to tell Kim to get are in that corner." She pointed to the left front corner of the room. "Bye, guys." She waved and then left.

You gave Jay a huge hug and tried to avoid his arm that was in a sling. "Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" you told him seriously and then looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

Jay chuckled. "I'll try not to."

"You better do more than try." You went back to leaning your head against his chest as tears soaked his t-shirt.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he soothed. "I'm okay. I'm fine, Y/N."

"I was so scared. The last thing we would've done was argue. I'm so sorry. I should never have asked to go to those protests. I know you were just trying to protect me--"

"Hey, it's okay for you to have your own opinions and views. It's just gonna take me a while to get used to you being an adult now and not that little sister who would always hold my hand and beg to go to Build-A-Bear."

"Speaking of Build-A-Bear," Will started and then walked over to the corner of the room and picked up two boxes. They were white boxes with dark blue designs on them. You knew those boxes: they were what the workers put new bears in when a kid came and bought one. You let go of Jay. Will peeked into one of the holes. "This one's for you." He handed Jay a box. "And this one's for you." He handed you the other box.

"You got us Build-A-Bears?" you asked as you raised an eyebrow.

"Just open the boxes."

You did and laughed when you saw Beary in the box, dressed in a hospital gown and white little bunny slippers. Your brothers were not kidding when they said they'd get one for you.

Jay laughed as he opened his. His Build-A-Bear was a light blue color and it also had on a hospital gown as well as a sling on one arm. The bear also had on a policeman cap. "Oh, man," Jay said as he continued laughing.

"Press the right paw," Will told him and he did, causing Ruzek's voice to float through the room.

Stop getting kidnapped. Glad you're okay, though.

You started laughing hysterically at this point.

"One more thing," Will said as he walked over to the counter and pulled out a marker and two hospital bracelets. On one he wrote Beary Halstead. "Jay, what are you naming your bear?" Will asked.

"I gotta name it?"

"Um, it's not an it. It's a he or a she...could be a they, too," you said.

"Fine. I gotta name him?"

"Yes," Will told him.

Jay groaned. "Fine. Blue."

"Boo! That's boring," you said.

He groaned again. "Detective Blue. There. Better?"

"Better," you confirmed.

Will wrote Det. Blue Halstead on the other hospital band. Then, he handed Beary's to you and Detective Blue's to Jay.

"I cannot believe you," Jay said.

"I can," Will laughed. "Now put it on him. Just like Y/N's doing with Beary."

Jay reluctantly put it on Detective Blue's arm. But then he realized something. "Wait, why does Beary have a hospital gown if Y/N wasn't in the hospital?"

"Yeah, about that..." you trailed off.

Jay cocked his head to the side. "What did you do this time?"

"Other than save your life, I got nauseous and Will had to give me anti-nausea medication," you explained.

"Wait, back up. You saved my life? How?" Jay asked as he looked between you and Will.

"She essentially cussed at Crockett until she got what she wanted," Will said nonchalantly.

"Which was...?" Jay pried.

"Giving you blood because the hospital was out because of a car accident. If she wouldn't have given you blood..." Will trailed off, not wanting to say the words.

"I'd be dead," Jay practically whispered.

"Yeah," Will confirmed, his voice at about the same volume as Jay's.

Jay felt himself getting choked up as he pulled you in for another hug. "Thank you."

"I know you'd do the same for me."

"In a heartbeat, Short Stack. In a heartbeat."

You stayed like that until Will went ahead and broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over the three of you.

"I hate to break this up, but there's something else I need to tell you guys," Will said.

You and Jay both turned to him and you let yourself out of Jay's embrace. "Which is?" you asked.

"Voight gave Jay two weeks furlough to recover and I talked Goodwin into giving me two weeks vacation--"

"How in the hell did you do that?" Jay asked.

"Let's just say I'm going to be working Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, and New Year's Day. But that's beside the point. We have two weeks of vacation time."

"You do know I work right?" you asked.

"At a coffee shop, not at a big kid job," Will said. "And, I had Kim and Adam stop in there on their way to get the bears. They explained the situation and your work gave you two weeks off. Adam said he may have had to flash his badge, but that's beside the point."

"And you took vacation because...?" you asked.

"We need to make sure Jay relaxes and there's so many protests-turned-riots happening right now that we should probably get out of here."

"You do know it's not the peaceful protesters starting those, right? It's counter-protesters and other people who are racist bigots and people who decided they have no other choice but to be violent," you said, making your views known once again.

"I'm very much aware, Y/N. But, no matter who started it, people were running from tear gas and burning buildings last night."

"Alright, back on topic," Jay started, not wanting to have another argument like he had two days ago with you. "Where are we going?"

"I figured Wisconsin would be a good choice."

***

"It's my turn to pick the music," you whined as Will looked for another song on your long drive to Wisconsin.

"I'm the oldest, so I get control of it," Will argued.

"No, you've controlled it for the last three hours. I've had to listen to nineties hip-hop for that long. My eardrums are gonna bleed. Please make him give the aux, Jay."

"Dude, just give her the aux, and then she'll be quiet. Remember, she likes early 2000s pop-punk and 2000s stuff in general. We'll probably know most of it."

Will reluctantly handed you the aux. "Thank you. And, just to remind you two, I'm a big fan of Taylor Swift's first few albums and 5 Seconds of Summer."

You clicked play on Take What You Want by One OK Rock featuring 5 Seconds of Summer. You queued up some more songs by 5 Seconds of Summer and two by Taylor Swift, just to mess with your brothers, and then you added songs they would know like All the Small Things by Blink-182, Check Yes, Juliet by We The Kings, Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low, and Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard.

By the time Dear Maria, Count Me In started playing, all three of you were jamming out, which caused Jay to forget to put his blinker on when he changed lanes...and there was a cop right there in the emergency turnaround.

Jay heard and saw the sirens behind him and slowed down. He knew the drill from pulling people over on his days on patrol. Now that he was in Intelligence, he practically just ripped the criminals out of their cars and handcuffed them against the side of their (usually stolen) car.

He got out his license and registration, along with his badge because he did have his service weapon with him. He'd be damned not bringing it with him in this day and age...and sometimes there were coyotes and he and Will didn't know if the old hunting rifle at the cabin that your grandpa used to use even had ammunition in and if there was even any ammunition at the cabin.

Jay rolled down his window as the officer walked up to him.

Your hands started to sweat and your heart started to race as you remembered your last encounter with an officer that you didn't know.

You were driving home from the library late at night after studying for a biology exam. And no, the library wasn't an excuse for going out and partying. You genuinely had gone to the library and had had a great and very focused study session for a few hours.

All of a sudden, you saw flashing lights and heard sirens. You turned down your music. You looked in your rear-view mirror and saw that the cop was right on your tail. He turned off his sirens and then turned them on and off quickly.

You were the one getting pulled over.

You pulled off to the side of the road and then rolled down your window.

"License and registration," the officer told you. He looked young, maybe a rookie.

"What's the problem officer?" you asked. Jay always told you that you had a right to know why you had been pulled over.

"You were going three miles over the speed limit, did you know that?"

"I don't recall how fast I was driving." Jay always told you never to admit to speeding because then you could fight the ticket if you ended up getting one.

"License and registration, please," he repeated.

"Reaching into my glove compartment and moving some CDs to get my registration," you narrated and then handed the registration to the officer. "Reaching over to my passenger seat to grab my purse which has my license in it...unzipping my purse...reaching in for my license." You handed him your license.

He ran your information and then came back to the window. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I have to give you a ticket."

You furrowed your eyebrows. For three miles over the speed limit? No fucking way was this happening.

"Uh," was all you could say.

"But, there is something you can do to get out of this ticket. You help me out, I help you out."

"I- I don't understand," you stuttered.

He looked down and you followed where he was looking and cupping himself with the hand that wasn't holding your license and registration.

"I- I..."

"Or I can just up this speeding ticket to going twenty miles over it. Say there was an open container in the car, too," he said.

You had no idea what to say. You couldn't risk getting your insurance upped and getting a minor in possession charge. You'd never be allowed to drive again!

But, there's no way you'd do this. You couldn't. But he was so much bigger than you that he could hold you down with one hand tied behind his back.

He placed his hand on the door handle. "You have three seconds to make your decision. One...Two..."

"My brother's Jay Halstead! Badge number 51163! His Sergeant's Hank Voight!" Your voice trembled as you yelled that and you were close to tears.

He looked back down at your license. It did say Y/N Halstead on it. He handed you back your license and registration. "Have a nice night."

Then, he walked back to his patrol car, got in, turned off the sirens, and drove off. You were so scared that you didn't even look to see what his last name or badge number was.

Once you had stayed pulled over for a good couple of minutes to make sure that the cop was nowhere in sight, you started driving again. You stopped at a drive-thru and got yourself a chocolate flurry with Oreos. Then, you sat in the parking lot with your hands still shaking and your heart still racing as you ate and started to cry. You cried for almost half an hour and waited there for another fifteen minutes so your eyes wouldn't be as puffy when you got home because you didn't want Jay asking questions.

"Y/N, you good?" Jay asked, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah," you said quickly...almost too quickly. "Why?"

"Will just asked if you wanted to go back because we missed a song and you didn't answer."

"Yeah, I can do that." You quickly went back to the previous song and tried to sing with as much happiness as you did previously. But, you didn't get the image of that night or the feeling of dread out of your stomach for another hour.

***

You woke up the next morning very well-rested. The boys had taken the loft and the two twin beds that were up there and you got to take your mom and dad's old room because you were the only girl, so they said it was only fair that you got the bedroom.

You heard the dripping of water and got out of bed and then padded down the hall and to the kitchen. Jay was standing there in pajama pants and a t-shirt. (Thank God he wasn't shirtless for once in the morning. Your brothers really needed to learn how to put shirts on when they walked out of their rooms in the morning...and maybe by you telling them to put a shirt on all the time, you training them had finally paid off.) He drummed his fingers on the counter while he waited for the coffee to be done.

"Morning," you said.

He turned around. "Good morning. Shocked you're awake. It's only 8 am."

"And I'm shocked you haven't been up for two hours," you retorted.

"Oh, I've been up for an hour, just been reading upstairs. Will's not up yet, though."

"He always sleeps late when he doesn't have to work though, doesn't he?"

"Pretty much. We've made breakfast plans before and he's missed them because he was sleeping."

The timer went off on the coffee pot, alerting you that it was finished. Jay started to pour his in a tumbler. He held out a tumbler to you. You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering why he wasn't pouring it into a mug.

"I was gonna go for a morning canoe ride. You can come along if you want. Wouldn't want hot coffee spilling all over us," he told you.

"Did you bring creamer?" you asked.

"Irish cream creamer, just for you."

You reached into the fridge and grabbed the creamer.

"So, canoe ride?" Jay asked.

"Sure."

He poured coffee into a tumbler for you and then slid it to you to put your desired amount of creamer in.

***

Twenty minutes later, you were starting out in the canoe. You told Jay there was no way in hell that you'd be doing the rowing. He told you that he could only row with one arm because of his sling, so you'd have to do the other side. Skeptically, you started rowing. Jay told you that you'd be fine, just to follow his instructions.

Fifteen minutes later, when you were out in the middle of the lake, facing the forests of Wisconsin, he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked.

He picked up his tumbler of coffee off the floor of the canoe. "We need to talk."

"About what?" you asked as you picked up yours as well and held it with both hands.

"About your reaction last night when I got pulled over. You freaked. I need to know why."

"I- I didn't freak. I was just tired," you lied.

"You had quite the amount of energy right before that," he quipped.

"It's nothing."

"Y/N, I'm not letting this go. Is it because of the protests and riots and because of all the media coverage and those few bad apple cops and, I guess the system, that you're seeing that's making you nervous?"

"No, it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"You're not going to let this go are you?" you asked.

"I will stay in this canoe in the middle of the lake until you tell me what is going on, Y/N Halstead."

"You wouldn't."

Jay shrugged with the arm that wasn't currently in a sling. "Try me."

You sighed. "Just don't be mad that I didn't tell you sooner, okay?"

"I won't. You have my word on that."

"So, a little over a month ago I was driving home from the library..."

***

When you finished, you were in tears. "Did you get a last name? Badge number?" Jay asked as he rubbed circles on your back with his good hand.

You sniffled. "N- No. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all."

"If I wouldn't have said- said your name...He had his hand on my door handle! And he was so much bigger than me. I'm sorry!"

You turned and buried your face in his chest. "Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"I should've told you right away, though! But you just had that really rough case and I didn't want to put too much on your shoulders and--"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath. You need to breathe. This was not your fault. None of it was."

You calmed your breathing and just sat there, silent tears streaming down your face.

"That's why I wanted to go to the protests," you said after a few minutes. "Because I've actually had a bad experience with a cop."

"Which should've never happened in the first place."

"I was so scared," you whispered.

Jay just hugged you tighter as he thought about how strong his little sister was. You had given blood to save his life even though you knew you'd feel terrible after and you hadn't told him about this horrible cop--which he would kick this cop's ass the minute the got back to Chicago--because you didn't want him to have too much on his plate after that terrible case where he put an innocent man in jail and got him killed...which was the main reason he had been shot.

"When we get back to the cabin, I'll try and call Voight. I don't know if I'll have service, though."

"Why?" you asked.

"I'm gonna have him look up who was on their beat near you that night so he can go interrogate people on my behalf. Probably best he does it and not me." Because Jay knew that the minute he saw that cop, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

You nodded.

"Hey, cheer up, kid. We're here for two weeks, away from everything. Away from the city and everything that goes on there. And I can promise you that that cop will get what's coming to him, whether that be losing his job or going to jail or prison."

"Do I have to tell Will? Or can you tell him? I really don't want to talk about this again."

"I can do it," Jay answered. "Speaking of Will, if he's not up when we get back, what do we say we wake him up with some cold lake water?"

"Like dump it on him?" you asked as you widened your eyes. Jay nodded. "No, that's mean. Then he'll have to wait for his sheets to dry out and they'll smell the entire time."

"We have spare sheets and blankets in the closet."

"Fine, let's do it. But just so you know, I'm telling him that it was your idea and I also have a lock on my bedroom door here, which will make it harder for him to sneak in and dump water on me."

"I will be sleeping in your room tonight," Jay joked.

"Nope. It was your idea, so you're gonna have to live with Will's payback."

Those two weeks were filled with laughter, pranks, board games, corn hole, swimming, fishing (well, you read either in the canoe or on the dock while the boys fished), and just spending time with each other. You were glad that Will had the bright idea to take two weeks up here...even though he got drenched in cold lake water the first morning by you and Jay.

A/N: I got a request from @ La_lectrice_33 on wattpad for Y/N going to the dentist, so I hope you liked that little scene! I also got a request from an anon on here about Jay and Will's reactions to her growing up, so I put that in here, too. Thank you for over 23k reads! I won't be posting until this Sunday (August 1) when I start posting AUs for AU-gust. Please remember to like/reblog and comment because I love seeing those like/reblog notifications pop up and love reading your comments and asks! As always, if you would like to be added to my tag list, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, like my imagines? Buy me a coffee (only $1 through Paypal and other currencies can be used) here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/Kayela

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salazarslytherin · 4 years ago

Text

belong (h.p x y/n)

requested : yes!!! my very first :D [So I don’t know if your up for request but if you are would you mind to do a dom Harry x fem reader and him using different toys on you. You can ignore this if you want ! Anyhow have a nice day !! :)] send in your own request here!

🃛 masterlist!

cw / tw : smut!!!!, name-calling, slight degradation, dom!harry, references like sir etc., bondage, slight exhibitionism, sex toys, anal play, edging, overstimulation, jealousy, possessiveness

word count: 2780 my goodness i just ran with this request huh..

a/n: slight au in this one, basically voldy doesn't exist, like he died or wtv idk . just normal hogwarts with high-school dynamics. hope you enjoy!

"Who do you belong to darling?"

The answer was muffled through the cries that escaped your lips, but Harry gently hit your bum, letting out a harsh 'speak' as he thrust into you, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips as you gasped.

"You, Harry, only you. No one else could make me feel as good as you do!"

⚔︎

It was the party of the year. The Slytherin common-room was in full swing as all four houses meshed together to simply wind down after exams and have a good time. You'd gone to the party with a few girl friends from your dorm, Harry promising to meet you there after he was done with quidditch practice.

"Hey y/l/n! Want a drink?"

Zabini approached you sitting on the couch, two red solo cups in hand as he passed one to you, flopping down on the green satin couch and wrapping an arm around you. The two of you weren't exactly friends, but also weren't exactly strangers. You shared flirty comments in potions, but both of you knew nothing serious would come from it. He was just fun to be around, and you knew he felt the same about you.

Oh, and there was something else about him.

Seeing you talk to Blaise drove Harry absolutely insane.

It wasn't that Harry didn't trust you, he definitely did. He just was an incredibly possessive guy, and you found it really, really hot. But also, you found yourself enjoying Blaise's company, so you grew closer to the Slytherin. Playing with fire more and more as the days passed. ⚔︎ Harry stepped into the Slytherin Common Room laughing, the door closing behind him as he slapped Ron on the back. Scanning the room, the laughter dissipated and his jaw clenched, unconsciously gripping Ron's shirt which had the ginger wincing, looking to see what had pissed his best friend off. Ron's eyes landed on you, clad in a tight-fitting dress, sitting with Zabini's arm wrapped around your shoulders. The pair of you were laughing at something as you leaned in a little too close to the Slytherin. The seeker's eyes narrows behind his glasses, stalking over to the couch and stood in front of you. "Oh hey Haz! I didn't know you'd come already. D'you wanna top me off?" Shoving your cup into your boyfriend's hands, Harry took a whiff of the container which reeked of firewhiskey. He could tell you were tipsy, and pulled you up off the couch, whispering into your ear. "No, but I'd like to fill you up." You swallowed slightly, your throat suddenly feeling dry despite all that you'd been drinking that night. Harry threw Blaise a weak smile as he leaned away from your ear, a smile that definitely did not match the dark look in his eyes. "Zabini I'm going to take her back to my dorm for a bit. She's clearly out of it." The aforementioned Slytherin shrugged and got up off the sofa, not before turning back to throw you a wink. "Until next time, Y/N." ⚔︎ The door to Harry's dorm was thrown open with just a wave of his hand, an impressive feat of wandless magic that you were not in the proper headspace to admire. "Did you forget who you belonged to, y/n, hmm? Because it sure as hell seemed like it." The boy all but growled at you, making you shiver slightly, dampness pooling in your underwear. "W-what do you mean Harry?" The boy let out a humourless laugh, his eyes dark with lust and determination, before pushing you down onto the bed nearest to the door, pinning your arms above you. "It seems my little slut needs to be taught a lesson." A moan elicited from your throat as Harry leaned down to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth as your hands shot to your usual position – lost in his mess of curls. But he moved away as soon as you did so. "No can do baby doll, bad girls don't get to touch. In fact, I think that in itself deserves a punishment. Come, get up, strip, then lay yourself over my lap." You slipped off your dress and shoes, standing in front of Harry in just the green lace underwear that you'd worn for the night. The sight of the underwear made Harry's cock swell slightly, but a bitter taste formed in his mouth. "You little slut. Wore that for Zabini didn't you? Your pretty little tits covered in Slytherin colours. Now we can't have that, can we?" He grabbed you harshly, basically throwing you over his lap as he grabbed your left tit over the thin lace of your bra, his other calloused hand rubbing your ass. He took the bra off, letting your tits free, throwing the bra somewhere across the room, summoning a paddle from a secret trunk under his bed. "Now my little whore, I want you to count, and thank me with each one. Let's start with twenty, and we'll see how it goes." You whined in response, but did not object. Slap. "One, thank you sir." Slap. ⚔︎ Twenty-eight spanks later – Harry said you answered too late for some, and squealed a little too loud for the others, and you were on the verge of tears. Wiping the tears that had spilled away, Harry flipped you onto the bed, a dangerous smile on his face. "Very good baby. But don't think it's over yet. You still haven't answered for your actions. You know how I feel about Zabini. Now, I'll make you feel the same." Waving his hand yet again, ribbons, crimson ones of course, flew to bind your hands and legs to the posts of the 4-poster bed. A gag followed

a few moments later, covering your mouth. Leaving you for a second, Harry returned with an array of his favourite toys, making you whimper at the sight of them. He switched on his favourite one, a purple curved vibrator, and pressed it to your clothed clit, a moan ripping from your throat as he toyed with your nipple simultaneously. "Now, because you've been so bad, I don't think you deserve to cum until I've been inside you. Don't you agree darling?" Shaking your head vigorously, your body too sensitive for you to produce any noise, you pleaded with your eyes, but Harry only smirked. "Oh you do! Fantastic. Now, since my little slut is so enthusiastic, why don't we try something new?" Harry ripped the green thong right off of your body, making you groan slightly, narrowing your eyes at him as he smiled innocently back at you. His fingers traced your slit making you moan, gathering the moisture that you had produced on two of his fingers, before leaning forward to give your cunt a soft lick. His slickened hand slowly started to trace your asshole, pushing one finger in as he pushed his tongue into your hole, thrusting in and out of both holes with the same pace. "You like that? You good? Remember to click." The words caused vibrations to travel up your body, moaning into the gag, nodding. Harry's concern for you turning you on further, the knowledge that you could get out of the restraints at any second making you remember how much Harry cared for you. The aforementioned boy hastened the pace at your encouragement, adding a second finger into your asshole. Just as your moans started getting louder and your cunt began fluttering, Harry stopped, moving away from you and off the bed, making you shriek in protest of your lost orgasm. "I told you darling, not yet." With that, he picked up the vibrator he'd abandoned just now, as well as a set of anal beads that he'd newly acquired, and gently put them into you, leaning back and admiring his work. "Well, I'm going back to the party. See you in a bit!" Harry plucked his wand from his back pocket, casting disillusionment and muffliato charms over you, ignoring the screams of protest that came from behind the gag. "Oh by the way, the muffliato is only for the vibrator. Not for you. Don't be too loud! And don't forget. No cumming. Love you!" ⚔︎ Harry was back at the party, sipping his firewhiskey and not even slightly listening to what Dean was saying to him. All he could think about was Y/N. Naked. Tied up. Shaking. Moaning his name. The thought alone made him so hard he was certain you could see every vein of his dick through his pants. "Anyways, I'm going to go back to the dorm real quick. I promised Nott to get him a...Muggle treat. Be right back." Only after the slight slap on the bicep and the closing of the massive wood doors did Harry register what Dean had said. "Oh shit." ⚔︎ You couldn't help yourself as the vibrations kept thrumming through you, trying to keep yourself quiet had become almost useless as you knew that everyone in your grade was at the party, but the fear and adrenaline of being caught turned you on more and more. You and Harry had discussed doing something like this multiple times, but you'd never expected it to be tonight. Torn from your thoughts, you were forced to remember why this toy was Harry's favourite as the vibrations changed in intensity once in a while – Harry could control it with his wand, and Merlin was he doing it. It was like the boy had memorised the way you orgasmed, knew exactly how much it would take to get you to the edge, and then knew exactly how to get you off of it. Lost in your thoughts, you nearly missed the thundering of someone coming up the stairs, and you immediately shut your mouth. Struggling against the restraints you remembered the disillusionment charm, and bit on the gag, hoping whoever came in would go straight back out. "Now where's that bloody mag?" Dean had slipped into the room, tripping over his feet slightly, causing him to have to steady himself on the bed nearest to the door, the

bed you were currently tied to, which nearly made you squeal in fear and shock, suddenly thankful for the gag that had been making your jaw ache. "Merlin, who's–" "Ay mate." Harry walked into the room, a cup barely hanging from his hands as he nodded at Dean, casting a sly glance towards the bed he knew you were on. "Hey Harry. Why're you up here?" The small smile that appeared on Harry's face made you shudder as he subtly turned up the vibrations on his wand. That boy was going to be the death of you... "Nothing much. Kinda tired, and I came here to find something for y/n. I'll head back down in a bit." A hum came from Dean's shadow, who was stood at a bed that was far too close to yours for your liking, as a triumphant sound emerged from the boy. "Finally found the mag! Right, I'm headed back down, see you in a bit Potts." ⚔︎ As the disillusionment charm lifted, Harry was greeted by a very, very, red y/n, with every crevice of your body twitching. An intense moan ripped from your throat as you watched him approach you, caressing your body softly, feeling the callouses on his hands on your soft skin. "You've been so good for me baby. So good. Are you ready for your reward?" You nodded vigorously, tears spilling from your eyes as he switched off the vibrator, removing it from your hole. He began stripping, the slow pop of each button on his dress shirt revealing more and more of his quidditch toned body, making you cry out as the seeker pulled down his pants, allowing his cock out of the tight restraints of his jeans. He removed the gag, placing a soft kiss on your lips as whimpers and moans erupted. "Please. I need you inside me so bad. Want you so bad. Please sir." He attached his lips to your neck, smiling against it as he pumped himself softly, prepping himself to enter you. "Now I can't deny my pretty little slut what she wants, can I?" He sank into you, both of you moaning out simultaneously as he felt your wet warmth tighten around him, reaching behind you to pull the silver anal beads out. "Oh, Haz, please. I'm going – to cum already." Harry began thrusting in and out of you, loud moans rumbling against your collarbone as he kissed and sucked on it, leaving a dark hickey on the bone. "Fuck, yes, cum around my cock. Let me feel your tight little cunt cum baby." A scream ripped from your throat, your voice almost hoarse from the sound you'd just emitted, your entire body shuddering as you released the most intense orgasm of your life – having been kept on edge for almost two hours now. "Fuck, Harry!" As you came, Harry clicked his fingers as quickly as he thrusted into you, the binds falling away from your appendages. Basking in a post-orgasmic bliss for a brief moment, you were brought back into reality by Harry continuing his thrusts into you. "Oh, you're so tight. And this pretty little pussy is all mine." You wrapped your hands around his neck, pressing your lips close to Harry's, moaning against his lips as the thrusts hastened. His hand reached down to your clit, rubbing in vigorous circles, while yours gripped onto his shoulders, leaving nail marks – a reminder of tonight. "Tell me. Who do you belong to darling?" The answer was muffled through the cries that escaped your lips, but Harry gently hit your bum, letting out a harsh 'speak' as he thrust into you, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips as you gasped. "You, Harry, only you. No one else could make me feel as good as you do!" Content with the answer, Harry began kissing down your neck, before reaching your tits, sucking and kissing the two nipples, never stopping the furious attack on your clit. "Come on y/n. Cum for me again baby. Cum with me." His cock twitched inside of you, and the stimulus of everything came down upon you as you came for the second time, and Harry the first, releasing his seed into you, moaning into your breast as you scratched down Harry's back, no doubt leaving marks for everyone to see during tomorrow's practice. He pulled out of you slowly, watching as the aftermath of your time together spilled out of your hole, then placed tender kisses on your ankles and wrists. "You did so well for me darling. So, so well." You hummed, caught in a daze, uncertain of how to keep your head from spinning at the moment. "How are you baby? Give me a colour y/n." The colours were a measure of your well-being: green was good, orange was uncertain but alright, red, well red doubled as your safe word. But you'd never had to use it once with Harry. "Orange, because my head won't stop spinning and my body won't stop thrumming. But I'm fine Haz." He smiled worriedly down at you, his glasses fogged slightly from the sweat that dripped down his face. "I love you so much. Now let's get you cleaned up." ⚔︎ After Harry cleaned you up and about fifteen minutes lounging on, well, whoever's bed this was, you slipped on your dress, without any underwear on, because Harry had literally ripped your thong apart, and got ready to head back down to the party.

"You're so beautiful. I love you so much."

Harry pinched your ass through the dress, giving you a kiss as you two stood at the top of the stairs, meeting Ron who was on his way up.

"Hey mate. Going to bed?"

The ginger nodded, yawning slightly.

"Yeah, hard practice today. See you tomorrow mate. You too y/n. Looks like you had fun."

He wiggled his eyebrows at the hickeys that covered your neck and collarbones, causing you to blush as Harry pushed his friend towards the room.

"Alright alright. Get outta here. Good night!"

The ginger gave a reply, which then turned into a shriek.

"Harry! Why's there a bra on my bed! And a – AHHH. Wait, why's Seamus' bed a mess? He made it this morning! Harry! For fuck's sake! We made a promise not to EVER DO THIS!"

The sound of footsteps came towards the large oak doors, as Harry ushered you down the stairs, the two of you laughing.

"Run. Run. RUN!"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! Just you wait!"

#mine #writing #smut #harry potter smut #hp smut #harry potter x you #hp imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter angst #harry potter fluff #harry potter #harry potter fic #hp angst #hp fluff #hp fic #harry james potter

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drawlfoy · 4 years ago

Text

the poisoning of draco malfoy

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x fem!reader

request: no haha

summary: y/n is known her her hangover cure and her passion for potion making. something goes slightly wrong when it comes to helping draco malfoy.

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, swearing, getting poisoned lmfao

a/n: hiyo i should be studying rn for one of my exams on monday but i just wanted to post this also big sorrry to anyone’s dm that i have yet to respond to i literally just popped in here to do this and hopefully i will crawl out of my study hole in a few days fjsdka’

word count: 1.2k

tags :) message or send in an ask to be tagged! @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

“Draco!” Y/N hissed as he flipped through her entire Potions cabinet, his fingers brushing over every bottle. “Be careful!”

“Sheesh, have I ever been anything but careful?” he teased, shooting her a very self-satisfied look before continuing his search. “Why don’t you label yours?”

“It adds spice to the whole hangover curing process, don’t you think?” she joked, sitting on her bed as she watched him. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine.” She tried to suppress a smile as his stubborn persona reared its head. “It’s pink, right?”

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. Her thoughts were somewhere other than potions--instead thinking of how he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder while they were all talking. It obviously meant nothing--they were just friends--but it still made her heart speed up when she thought about it.

“Got it.” He shut her cabinet, brandishing a small pink bottle before tossing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she said. If she avoided looking him in the eyes for too long, she could pretend like she didn’t feel disappointment at the fact that his visit to her room would be so brief. When he’d asked the group for Wide-Eye potion, everyone had directed him to her and her signature brew (which was really just Wide-Eye brewed with the essence of mandrake root). She’d let her mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen when they were alone in her room--but that was all drunken fantasy speaking. Just because he let her touch his shoulder didn’t mean he was about to propose.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” He sent her a grin that made her knees weak, turning to leave.

“See you.”

With that, he was gone.

“Think you’re funny, huh?”

Draco’s voice cut through her own pounding head as she sat at the Ravenclaw table with her other equally hungover friends.

“Excuse me?” She whipped around to see him pink with frustration. “Did you even take it?”

“It doesn’t work,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I don’t know how you managed to con all your friends into thinking that you’re some sort of Potions master at the age of 17, but you’re not. I know you’re a fraud.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N asked. “That potion works. I’ve used it myself.”

“Yeah, it’s magic,” said her fellow Ravenclaw friend, Rena, from across the table. “I actually stole a vial from your cabinet this morning. Never been better. Maybe you’re just ill.”

“Huh?” Y/N asked. “I gave the last vial to Draco last night. There’s no way you could’ve…” The color drained from her face. “Draco, do you still have the bottle from last night? Can you describe the potion to me?”

The realization seemed to dawn upon him as his eyes widened. “No. I threw it out. It just looked like a regular potions bottle. Pink, like you said. Oh, god, did you poison me?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” said Y/N, keeping her tone cavalier despite the fact that she was terrified. “There’s nothing...deadly...in there per se. But it’s not all totally legal for someone like me to have, so we can’t let Pomfrey know about it until I figure out what you took. Or Snape. Especially not Snape.” She shivered.

“So what do you suggest we do?” he drawled.

“Come with me. I’m going to try and figure out what’s missing.”

They didn’t talk much on their way to the Ravenclaw dorms apart from Y/N asking him about his symptoms. As far as she could tell, he was perfectly fine apart from a headache and sensitivity to sound and light--a classic hangover.

She racked her brain, trying to think about what potion could be in her cabinet that wouldn’t cause ANY effects, even with the combination with alcohol. There was nothing. Quite literally nothing.

“Ok,” she told him as they stood in front of her cabinet. “I want you to tell me the general region where you grabbed it.”

Draco squinted at the bottles, running his fingers over them like he had last night. “To be honest, I hardly remember. It was a blur. Maybe this’ll teach you to put labels on them.”

“Normally I don’t have people ransacking my potions!” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Are you sure you don’t feel anything different from a hangover? Like, at all?”

“No.”

“Did you even take it?”

“Yes, I’m quite certain I drank a potion you gave to me this morning unless I completely imagined the entire thing,” he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and sitting down next to her. “How fucked am I? Should I go to the hospital wing?”

“Worst comes to worst we use a bezoar, but it doesn’t look like you’re in any danger.” She chewed her lip as she thought. “Hang on…you’re absolutely positive it was pink, right? Were there any other colors in it?”

“Gold flecks.”

She sprung up, digging through her cabinet and ignoring Draco’s questioning. “This doesn’t make any sense. I think you took my love potion.”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I think I would know if I was under the influence of a love potion.”

“I know. That’s why it doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N said. “But there’s only one potion in here that has gold flecks, and that’s a love potion. And it’s gone. Unless Rena took it--and I think everyone would’ve noticed that by now--it had to have been you.”

“But I feel normal!” he protested, running his hands through his hair.

“Of course you feel normal,” she chastised. “The whole point of love potions is to convince you that what you’re feeling is natural--oh.”

It hit her.

He gave her a weird look.

“Got anything you want to confess, Malfoy?” she asked, cocking her head and meeting his eyes.

“What?”

“Do you know how love potions work?”

“Of course I know how love potions work,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not 12.”

“Care to explain?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, but he crossed his legs and continued in a monotone voice as he recited the lesson they’d both heard in 3rd year. “The recipient of a love potion falls into infatuation with the…”

His voice trailed off.

“With the person who gave it to them, yeah?” pushed Y/N. “So if you feel no different, and I was the person who gave it to you..”

Draco just stared.

“Draco, I brewed that potion, and I know that there’s nothing wrong with it,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You feel normal because--”

“Because I normally feel infatuated with you, yeah,” he cut in, his tone bitter as he rolled his eyes again. “No need to spell it out for me.”

“This is horribly embarrassing for you, huh?” she teased, giving him a shove. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve probably liked you for longer.”

“Well--what?”

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging as she tucked her legs under her and scooted a little closer. “You don’t honestly think I’d give my last vial to some random classmate, do you?”

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me?” he teased. “I don’t let just anyone fall asleep on my shoulder.”

“I guess we’re both cowards, then,” said Y/N.

“And idiots.”

“I think that’s just you.”

final a/n: i didnt edit this and i wrote this in the middle of what was supposed to be a study session for me whoopsies fdjsa;k

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco #draco malfoy #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine

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trumpkinhotboy · 4 years ago

Text

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

#ilya writes ❤#jacob black #jacob black x f!reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black fic #twilight #taylor lautner #twilight saga #wolves #werewolves

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Futures Past pt18 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang returns to the Cloud Recesses, and meets the people he's meant to befriend

Much to his surprise, Nie Huaisang realised upon returning to the Cloud Recesses that he had missed the place. Or rather, he had missed the friends who lived there.

All winter, Su She and him had exchanged letters, mostly to complain about every single thing that bothered them. When they finally met again in person, they were quite happy to do more of the same. They also discussed all the things they might do for fun that year.

Su She, at long last, had risen in rank and been given more freedom than he used to have. He would have less classes to attend since he was now trusted to take charge of his own training to some degree, he would join more Night Hunts, he had been given a new jade token that allowed him to leave the Cloud Recesses at any time of the day as long as curfew was respected, and he would even be included among those juniors who patrolled to enforce the respect of the rules.

All this made Nie Huaisang so happy for his friend, that he did not realise at first all the implications this had regarding the amount of time they would get to spend together. Su She would be very busy in the future, but he promised he would do everything possible to still make time for his best friend, and Nie Huaisang easily believed him.

The other joy to be found in returning to the Cloud Recesses was not immediate. By the time Nie Huaisang had arrived there, Lan Xichen had not yet returned from a Night Hunt he’d gone on with Nie Mingjue. That was hardly a surprise. These two were usually far too serious in all things, but when they went Night Hunting together, they always stayed a little longer than really necessary. Nie Huaisang usually found that greatly amusing, and never missed a chance to tease his brother about skirting his duties. They seemed to have taken a particularly long time on this occasion, but since Nie Mingjue had complained a few times that he hadn't seen his friend in such a long while, it was not so odd. Nie Huaisang would have mocked his brother so much if he'd seen him before leaving home.

Since he didn’t have a chance to do it that time, he instead teased Lan Xichen when he finally came home, on the same day most of the guest disciples were set to arrive, on the eve of the lectures' start. Of course if Nie Huaisang had been a good and dutiful person, he would have gone to the main gate to see those other guest disciples, and maybe try to strike a friendship with them as early as possible. But between trying to catch a glimpse of the boring friends his future self wanted him to make, and dropping by Lan Xichen’s house to see the friend he actually liked, the choice had been easily made.

Lan Xichen offered him tea and smiled when accused of dodging his responsibilities, but less warmly than Nie Huaisang had expected. In fact, he found that the older boy looked rather more tired than he should have been, and more nervous as well. He tried to ask about that, but Lan Xichen refused to dwell on the subject.

“There is just a lot to do, and you are right that I was gone longer than I should have,” Lan Xichen said. “Especially since Wangji is in seclusion… he was supposed to come out of it today, but I saw him earlier and convinced him to continue meditating alone for at least another month. There will be many energetic people among our guests this year, and I doubt he will enjoy their company too much.”

Nie Huaisang, who had found the Cloud Recesses even more fun without the constant threat of Lan Wangji being around to enforce the rule, could only nod. He didn't mind waiting a month to set in movement his older self's orders.

“And this had nothing at all with you wishing to have a little peace without your brother constantly enforcing the rules, does it?” he teased.

“I am nowhere near as rebellious as you seem to have decided,” Lan Xichen replied with an indulgent smile. “Though I suppose Lan Wangji does take a stricter approach to them than I do. I’m sure in time, he’ll learn that they are meant to be a guidance, not a restriction.”

“And that he should let his brother eat candies sometimes.”

Lan Xichen smiled, trying to hide a chuckle. That was enough to comfort Nie Huaisang. As long as he still enjoyed his jokes, Lan Xichen could not be doing badly. And after that the conversation soon moved on to music, giving Nie Huaisang a great chance to show off how hard he had worked all winter. By the time Nie Huaisang had to leave, Lan Xichen appeared in good spirits again, for which he congratulated himself.

When morning came, Nie Huaisang got up as early as he could manage after falling back on his old habits during winter, and headed toward the lecture hall with the other Nie disciples. There were a number of other boys assembled at the door, all waiting for the teacher to arrive.

Among those, the ones dressed in purple attracted Nie Huaisang’s attention the most. He recognised Jiang Cheng of course, with Meng Yao next to him whose attitude seemed more that of a babysitter than a fellow disciple, perhaps because of that other boy standing near them who had a mischievous smile on his lips. Then, behind them, there were two other boys dressed in Jiang purple, plain and quite forgettable. Perhaps Wei Wuxian wasn’t there after all, or perhaps he had already entered the class to study on his own, as befitted someone who was destined to fall for Lan Wangji.

Even if that person was absent, Nie Huaisang decided he should go greet Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao at least, since he already knew them. But before he had taken even one step in their direction, he heard someone call out for him.

“You are Nie gongzi, right?” a haughty boy asked.

He was dressed in that shade of yellow that only the Jins ever thought pleasant, and his face bore a passing resemblance with Jin Zixun’s, except with much nicer features, and a far colder expression. All of this made it rather easy to guess his identity, even if they had never met.

“And you must be Jin gongzi,” Nie Huaisang replied with a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Jin Zixuan said, returning the nod. “Since you are my cousin’s friend, I hope we can become better acquainted.”

Nie Huaisang gaped at the other boy.

“I’m what?”

“He’s too proud to use the word, but I know Zixun. He wrote about you several times last year, and he told me you helped him pass his exams.”

That this would be anywhere near enough to be considered a friend said a lot about Jin Zixun’s overall popularity. Nie Huaisang himself, who wasn’t exactly rich in friends, wouldn’t have used the word to talk about Jin Zixun, but he still felt flattered. In fact, he wondered if the acquaintance might be worth sustaining. Surely Nie Huaisang could try to write to Jin Zixun perhaps? He’d promised he would write to Xue Yang already, to give him a chance to practice reading and writing without the pressure of a classroom. If he was writing anyway, one more letter could be easy to fit into his very full schedule. Jin Zixun was a prick, but on occasions he'd been almost tolerable, so he wouldn't be the worst friend Nie Huaisang could make.

“He also said you became friends because he broke your nose,” Jin Zixuan added, his tone dripping judgement at the idea that anyone could ever put up with something like that.

Nie Huaisang self-consciously raised a hand to touch his nose, before quickly dropping it to his side, embarrassed by this habit he’d picked up.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he grumbled. “But I guess I did help him pass. And, well… if you want to be friends, I have no issues with that.”

“We’ll see about it,” Jin Zixuan retorted, before turning around and returning to his own group, as if it might dirty him to spend too much time with people who weren’t Jins.

Jin Zixuan was lucky to have such a pretty face and to be so rich, because it certainly wasn’t his personality which would make him friends, Nie Huaisang thought. He was at least as annoying as Jin Zixun, even though it was in a different manner.

He must not have been the only one to have that impression. When he turned his attention back toward the Jiang disciples, all of them save for Meng Yao were glaring in the direction of Jin Zixuan. Worse still, when their eyes wandered toward Nie Huaisang, it was clear that mere association with Jin Zixuan had instantly branded him as unpleasant to them. That was odd, though. Everyone knew that there was an engagement between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, so surely there should have existed, if not friendship, then at least some degree of cordiality between disciples of their two sects.

Nie Huaisang feared what starting with a disadvantage might do to the mission forced upon him, when already he wasn’t the best at making friends. But his eyes then met Meng Yao’s who, after whispering something to Jiang Cheng, walked toward Nie Huaisang and even bowed to him with far more deference than anyone had ever bothered to show before.

“Nie-gongzi, I am glad we meet again,” Meng Yao said. “I never had a chance to thank you before for your help that day.”

“I hardly did anything at all!” Nie Huaisang protested, waving his hands in embarrassment. “In fact, you were even hurt by my fault that time!”

“And yet I must insist in expressing my gratitude. If not for you and Lan gongzi standing up for me, I would not have been given a chance to become a cultivator, which has been my greatest dream since childhood. For this, I am in your debt.”

Nie Huaisang blushed a little. “Really, it was nothing. Any decent person would have done the same! And with a potential like yours, it was only natural that someone would take you as a student someday! How’s Yunmeng treating you? Are they nice to you? You can tell me if they’re not, and I’ll tell my da-ge, and he’ll tell them to be nice. But it’s Yunmeng, of course they’re probably nice, right?”

His rambling surprised Meng Yao, who appeared a little unsure how to answer. Probably he’d expected the young master of a great sect to be a little more eloquent than that, the way Lan Xichen was, or even Jiang Cheng. But it was difficult to keep cool in front of the boy who would have become the man who had killed Nie Mingjue.

How could that have even happened? Even after months in Lotus Piers, Meng Yao remained shorter than Nie Huaisang, and barely any heavier. How could someone like that…

“I think we’re treating him fine,” Jiang Cheng said in a dry voice as he joined them. “Though your concern commends you, Nie gongzi.”

Nie Huaisang jumped in surprise, and quickly bowed to him.

“Of course I didn’t mean to imply… and, well, he’s here to study, so clearly he is well treated, and your father must be quite impressed with him,” Nie Huaisang said, fidgeting with his sleeve. “I’m quite glad that things worked out so well!”

That other Jiang boy, the tall and handsome one, also joined them and threw an arm around Meng Yao’s shoulders to pull him close.

“It’s not Jiang-shushu who’s impressed with Meng Yao, it’s Yu-furen,” the boy said with a bright grin. “She’s the one who said he should come, because we’re less stupid when he’s with us.”

“She said you’re less stupid,” Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Don’t drag me down with you.”

“Yu-furen also thinks that having Meng Yao with us means that stupid peacock will keep his distances,” the other boy continued, unbothered by that interruption. “She’s really so scared that we’ll start an argument with him.”

“You would!”

“Only if he insults Shijie! Which he would, because he’s nothing but a self-important…”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng hissed. “Can you not shut up just for a moment?”

The boy just laughed, while Nie Huaisang stared.

Surely there had to have been a mistake. That couldn’t be Wei Wuxian. There was simply no way that Lan Wangji would ever become even a little attracted to a person such as this, who was bold enough to insult Jin Zixuan within earshot, who was so careless regarding Meng Yao’s obvious discomfort at having the connection mentioned. Sure Wei Wuxian wasn’t half bad looking, but with a personality like that, Lan Wangji would only try to murder him, not kiss him.

“You know, if the teacher isn’t here yet, we can probably leave,” Wei Wuxian said. “That’s what we’d do at home. Let’s ditch the lesson and go have fun!”

Oh, Lan Wangji was so going to murder him when they met. Surely Nie Huaisang’s future self had to be mistaken about those two.

“Hey, Wei-xiong, you shouldn’t say things like that,” Nie Huaisang advised. “There’s some people that might punish you if they heard you talk like this!”

“Sure, but the point is that the teacher isn’t here, so I have nothing to fear. Come on, Nie-xiong, it’s your second year here, right? Surely you’d rather run off to have fun with us than sit through some boring lectures again!”

As a matter of fact, Nie Huaisang very much wanted that. Considering how badly his studies went the year before, he had no reasons to think he would do any better that year either, so having fun would be a great use of his time. But that would upset Nie Mingjue, who didn't need that. And it might also disappoint Lan Xichen, which would be the worst thing ever. Having discovered that he enjoyed being praised, and how willing to do just that Lan Xichen was, Nie Huaisang didn't want to risk upsetting his friend.

"When I say there's people you shouldn't make angry, I don't mean just Lan Qiren," Nie Huaisang warned. "He's mostly manageable, if you just avoid talking back and cry a little when he gets angry. But his nephew Lan Wangji is a real terror, and they've put him in charge of overseeing punishment for the juniors. You're lucky he's in seclusion at the moment, because just for speaking of skipping classes, he'd have your skin. He takes rules very seriously!"

"The teacher's nephew, uh," Wei Wuxian said with an odd smile.

"You're thinking something unwise," Meng Yao accused.

"Please don't go bother that guy as soon as he leaves his seclusion," Jiang Cheng warned. "Mother will murder you if you disgrace our sect!"

Wei Wuxian's grin only grew wider, to the great anxiety of the other three.

"That nephew, he wouldn't happen to be a very handsome boy?" Wei Wuxian asked. "About my size, very handsome…"

"His brother looks much better," Nie Huaisang interjected without thinking. "Lan Wangji always looks so crossed… but he has a fine enough face, yes."

"And a silver sword that gives off a cold impression?"

"Did you already meet him?" Nie Huaisang asked.

"Yes, last night."

"Last night?" Jiang Cheng repeated. "How… there's a curfew in place here! Are you already breaking rules?"

Without a shred of regret or shame, Wei Wuxian started telling the story of his escape to buy wine, his attempt to return in secret, and his fight with Lan Wangji. Upon hearing that tale Jiang Cheng was furious, Meng Yao was worried, and Nie Huaisang so delighted he had to cover his mouth with both hands not to laugh.

Lan Wangji losing his temper! Lan Wangji getting in a fight, and not even winning it! Lan Wangji failing to punish a criminal! It was the funniest Nie Huaisang had ever heard, and he couldn't wait to share all of it with Su She who would surely be just as entertained.

This Wei Wuxian was a much more interesting person than anticipated, and Nie Huaisang could see himself becoming quite fond of him, even though he'd been determined to dislike him before. But that had been when he thought that his future self and Lan Wangji approved of him, two people whose opinion he didn't value much.

"Wei-xiong, you are so dead," Nie Huaisang cheerfully announced when the other had finished his story. "It's going to be a matter of pride now, he's going to have his eye on you for the entire time you'll be here!"

And for more than that, if Nie Huaisang’s future self was to be believed. That old prick didn't seem the sort to prank others, but it was also difficult to imagine Lan Wangji falling in love with someone like Wei Wuxian. People said that opposite attracted, but there were limits. Then again, it would be immensely funny if these two did become a couple. If it happened, Nie Huaisang might laugh to death.

"That Lan Zhan is probably too busy to bother with me," Wei Wuxian claimed. "And it's not like he comes to the lectures, right? So I'm not worried in the least. Besides, I'm more than his match in a fight!"

The arrival of Lan Qiren, who seemed in as bad a humour as Nie Huaisang had ever seen him, cut short that conversation, though Wei Wuxian still looked quite sure of himself as they all entered the classroom. He only deflated a little when they all noticed that there already was a student sitting there, a Lan boy who only looked up from the scroll he was reading to glare at Wei Wuxian. In turn, Wei Wuxian did appear a little startled, having clearly not expected that his new nemesis would be there.

It took Nie Huaisang all of his self control not to laugh at this situation.

The plot to help Lan Wangji find a cultivation partner had held little joy when he had believed Wei Wuxian to be the second Jade's equal in temper. But discovering that Wei Wuxian was a wild spirit, sure to drive Lan Wangji mad with annoyance and to distract him from his duties, delighted Nie Huaisang. It was the funniest thing in the world.

It was the stuff of great romances, something which might blossom into a love story people would talk about for ages. Two people of opposite temper, of opposite values even, learning to see each other’s worth… it would be quite fun to watch that unfold, and even more amusing to give it a push here and there.

Helping the romance of others was the closest to living his own that Nie Huaisang was likely to get, so he’d have to content himself with that.

His lack of appealing skills made it unlikely he’d ever provoke the sort of strong sentiment already at play between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. But even a more talented nature would not have changed his delicate position as his brother's heir. Until his brother married and had children, Nie Huaisang knew it would be unwise of him to flirt with anyone of his own choosing, not when the Nie clan might someday require him to make a good match. The only reason he wasn’t already engaged to anyone, he suspected, was because there weren’t many girls of the right age among the greater sects, and because his brother disliked the idea of using him as a political tool unless absolutely necessary.

It was not easy, being next in line to inherit a sect, and Nie Huaisang was quite happy that he wasn’t in love with anyone at all. He only wished a little to be like Wei Wuxian, as a servant's son, free to live as he pleased as long as he did not bring any scandal for his sect. And it was lucky that Lan Wangji's status was not quite as dire as Nie Huaisang’s, not when he had a brother who was more likely to get married than Nie Mingjue, and even a relatively young uncle who could well have children of his own if needed.

Lucky them indeed, but Nie Huaisang was determined not to envy them.

He’d just have his share of fun watching them… and maybe he’d see if Lan Xichen could be convinced to help too, just so they’d have another thing to laugh about together.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #su she #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #I'm hesitating to tag this as wangxian on AO3 #them getting together is an important plot point but it's also not really the focus so...

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

New Student

Requested by anonymous: “I was thinking maybe having the reader be a transfer student from Ilvermorny and Hermione tutors her to help her catch up with the curriculum of the new school.”

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings - Prejudice and brief mention of pain

"I understand that your family is of pure descent, correct?" You can't help but fidget in your seat; the vibrant pink of her office was making you extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention the gentle mewing coming from the plates that decorated the walls. It was one thing to love cats but surely this grew annoying after a while. You nod a little as you sit up straighter. The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was currently reading your transfer file. Having once attended school overseas, you were new to Hogwarts but instead of arriving like everyone else you were in your fifth year of education and the term had already begun for everyone else. Of course, your father cleared this with the school ahead of time but it was still embarrassing arriving so late. Not to mention, everyone else had four years of relationships and you were now just some weird new kid. "I do hope you'll consider your friends wisely while attending Hogwarts."

"May I ask what you mean by that Professor?" That was the first question you had asked since stepping through that door and you were very quickly regretting it. The woman wore a sickeningly sweet smile as she lowered the file from before her face.

"As a fifth-year student, you will be expected to take your OWLs this year. Do you believe your last establishment has prepared you for your examinations?"

"I guess," you shrug. You'd never had any trouble getting good grades in the past but Professor Umbridge didn't look convinced. Scribbling something down on her parchment, she pauses for a moment to meet your eyes.

"I would suggest acquiring a tutor for additional support. I can arrange for one of your peers to meet with you."

"That's quite alright, Professor." You dread to think of the tutor she would assign you; probably someone very studious and strict. Boring comes to mind too. "You're much too busy to concern yourself with such a task. I believe I'm quite capable of finding someone on my own."

"It is great to see a young witch taking some initiative," Her smile felt more genuine this time whereas yours was awkward.

"If that is all, may I go?"

"Of course. Run along dear" Slowly rising, you wish you could actually run out of the office and never come back but you proceed calmly. Only stopping by the door when you hear her speak once more. "But do keep in mind what I've said. We wouldn't want you falling in with the wrong kind of wizards while you're here. I expect your last school taught you how to conduct yourself."

"Thank you for your time, Professor Umbridge." With a bow of your head, you slip out the door with a sigh of the utmost relief. She was a very... intense woman to be around. After one meeting, you had another but this time it was with your head of house. Having arrived so late, you didn't partake in the sorting ceremony; which honestly you were kind of grateful for. Having to be sorted with a bunch of eleven-year-olds in front of the whole school definitely would have followed you around. Professor McGonagall briskly glides down the hallway as you stumble a few steps behind. She was the head of Gryffindor.

"I hate to be a bother but Professor Umbridge suggested I get a tutor and I was wondering if you might know a suitable candidate? With having started a few weeks after everyone else and OWLs fast approaching, I thought it was best to be safe than sorry"

"Your transcripts from your previous school don't suggest you'll have much trouble but a tutor may be beneficial," The older woman glanced back at you with a warm smile. "I have the perfect witch for the job. She's a real credit to Gryffindor. You were in Thunderbird previously?"

"Yes ma'am. Thunderbird House was considered to represent the soul of a witch or wizard and favoured adventures," you announce proudly. "I've never felt like much of an adventurer myself though."

"I'm sure you'll be a grand edition to Gryffindor. I may be biased but we're the best house at Hogwarts."

"I don't doubt that," Although you had no clue about any of the other houses to compare. "If you don't mind me asking Professor, where are we going?"

"To introduce you to your new tutor. She's in your first class so I thought I would escort you."

"Oh," You scramble forward a little faster to keep up with the woman; falling into step. "Do you think she'll be enough? I transferred at such an awkward time."

Hogwarts castle was as big as you'd imagine which made the journey to your first class seem like an eternity. As you're led down the hallway and into the dungeon, it's like the atmosphere completely changes. It's dark and cold down here. She comes to a stop outside a classroom, you peer around Professor McGonagall to see students sat at desks with small cauldrons placed before them.

"Can I speak to Miss Granger?" McGonagall asks of the teacher. He didn't seem too happy about the intrusion but he doesn't object. After a moment, a girl with luscious locks of mahogany brown steps through the door; she looks worried.

"Have I done something wrong, Professor?" Her eyes fall to yours and you offer up a small smile which she returns.

"Of course not. I just wanted to introduce you to our newest student. She'll be joining Gryffindor and was in the market for a tutor. As one of the finest students in all of Hogwarts, I thought of you."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in response to the praise. "I would be happy to help, Professor."

It was becoming more clear that whoever this girl was, she was very eager to please. It was written in her body language or the way she addressed McGonagall. She introduces herself as Hermione Granger before heading back into class to ensure she doesn't miss anything. The nerves set in as you realise you're supposed to follow.

"A new student for you, Professor." Guess there was no turning back, you step through the archway. It was rather dull and dark but it matched the feeling of the dungeons. The shelves were lined with varying ingredients and while students had previously been working on potions, now all their attention was drawn to you.

"A little late for new additions," The man spoke slowly; he had a nasally sound to his voice. His displeasure transformed into a scowl aimed directly at you. The whispers of nosey students fill the awkward silence

"I'm-"

"Just take a seat," He demands and you didn't think twice about it. Hurrying to the first open seat you could find. "We don't have time for frivolous introductions."

Potions class had never been something you had struggled with but it seemed that the Professor - whose name you had come to learn as Snape - seemed to be making it as difficult as possible. Every question was thrown at you despite other students who will not be named being so eager to answer them. They were also specific questions such as where to find certain ingredients within the confines of the UK which you had no clue. You knew today was going to be a very long day.

Lunchtime approached and nothing felt more daunting today than being in a room full of students and not knowing a single one. You park yourself down at the end of Gryffindor table, food lined the middle and you grab a few sandwiches placing them on your plate. You're not sure if it's relief or something else when you spot the only girl you knew so far come to join you; followed by some friends.

"McGonagall gave me your timetable," She announces, sitting down opposite you. "and I have created a schedule that ensures we have enough time to cover everything."

"When did you have time to make this?" You wonder, taking a bite of the sandwich you'd picked up. It wasn't half bad.

"Never underestimate Hermione's ability to do a boring task," Next to her sat a boy with ginger hair; he wore a welcoming smile on his face that was peppered with freckles. "I'm Ron by the way."

The others that had arrived alongside Hermione, introduced themselves one by one. There was Ginny Weasley who was related to Ron; even if she hadn't told you it wasn't hard to figure out. Then there was the famous Harry Potter. A name you knew only in passing; rumours spread all around the world about him. Hermione slides a piece of parchment across the table. Along the top sat the days of the week and down the side were hours within the day. They were colour coded by type so each potion class and potion study sessions were in green and so on. Pretty much every square had been filled in with one boring task or another. "This is... a lot."

"Considering our classes this morning, you seem rather behind so I thought it was best that we take every opportunity to bring you up to speed," Having moved to England, the accent and speed in which they spoke was rather hard to understand but you don't bring it up. "We have a lot to cover before exams."

"I'm actually rather good at potions," you protest. "Professor Snape was asking me weird questions. How am I supposed to know where to find things, I've only just moved here."

"Snape can be a right git," Ron mumbles through a mouth full of food.

"You're from America, right?" This time it's Harry who speaks. There's a part of you that wants to ask about his scar but considering you've just met it seemed too rude to voice.

"Yes," you nod. "I attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry until my father insisted on sending me here once we moved."

"Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world." Hermione declares. "Or so I've read."

"I liked my old school," You'd grown used to the mechanics of Ilvermorny plus you had friends there. "Hermione, no offence, but I would kind of like to have a little fun while I'm here and this leaves no time for literally anything else? What about clubs or quidditch?"

"Studying is fun. What could be more beneficial than acquiring new knowledge," Hermione's expression is genuine but you can't see yourself thinking studying is the epitome of fun any time soon. "I will not let Professor McGonagall down by not preparing you properly. So that means hard work- we will start after lunch."

"Is she always like this?" You turn to the others.

"Pretty much." They all agree. Maybe this had been a mistake?

"So you're the new girl, huh?" A shadow lingers over you and you look up to the culprit. That vibrant red hair seemed to be everywhere, you frown a little before looking to Ron.

"Heard you came all the way from America." Another one appears beside him, a broad smile on display. Twins?

"They're my brothers," Ron answers the question before you can even ask. There sure were a lot of Weasleys in this castle.

"How many Weasleys are there?"

"I have six siblings, Ginny is the youngest. Bill, Charlie and Percy have already left though."

"I'm Fred." One of the twins announces, patting your shoulder a little. "The most handsome Weasley brother."

"I'm George and I'm much more handsome than that git," He shoves his brother playfully.

"You're identical twins,"

"No, we're not," George protests. "Fred here is adopted. I can't believe you think we look the same."

"I'm offended you think I look like this tosspot, I'm much prettier." He dramatically pretends to flip his hair over his shoulder.

"We can show you around if you like?" They both offer; as bad as it sounds you knew you were gonna struggle remembering who was who.

"We know every corner of this place." Fred declares

"Every nook and cranny." George continues. "We also the guys to go to if you ever need anything- think fanged frisbees or puking pastels. We've got you covered."

"Uh..." Glancing to your timetable, you hold it up for them to see. "I don't think I'll have time for a tour between classes and study sessions."

"Shame."

"Guess we'll see you around then, Miss America." They both leave you alone to finish your lunch.

Written down Hermione's schedule was a lot but attending sessions was ten times worse. The constant studying was exhausting; how she was able to just keep going was crazy but impressive. Today was Arithmancy study in the Gryffindor common room. You were sat beside Hermione at the desk; sketching her side profile on the parchment filled with unfinished sums as she explained what she was doing. Every so often she'd look at you and you'd look away. Careful not to get caught staring as you perfected each delicate line that made up her face.

"And that's how you get fifty-six- see?" Hermione shows you her work, tapping the answer with the tip of her quill.

Staring at the answer didn't make much sense but neither did the working out. You hadn't been listening at all so you flash her a sympathetic smile. "I don't get it,"

"Are you even paying attention?" Her brow crinkled; her quill falling to the desk.

"Yes-"

"Let's see your work then?" Before she can grab it, you drag your parchment away. Smothering the contents with the palms of your hands.

"No."

"Show me." She requested firmly. Eyes narrowing in on you as if issuing a challenge. With a heavy sigh, you back down. Handing over your work.

"Fine. I wasn't paying attention," You admit with a shrug; leaning over the back of the chair to stare up at the ceiling. "Arithmancy is just so boring."

"You chose to take it,"

"My parents forced me to take it," You correct, glancing back at her. Taking your parchment between her fingers, it's hard to miss the rush of colour that floods her pale cheeks. You didn't think your drawing was that good; definitely not even close to some of your other work. If anything you were embarrassed by how bad it was.

"It's pretty rough like I could do better if I had more time and my pencils" Drawing provided you with a distraction when it was most needed. You'd only started a year ago but it quickly developed into your hobby of choice. Learning to sketch people had been tough but after spending pretty much every class, staring at your fellow students you had gotten decent at it.

"It's..." Hermione trails off, handing back your work. "Can you please focus?"

"We've been at this for hours." A long groan leaves your throat as you slump down in your seat. Arms folded over your chest.

"Just a few more questions before we finish,"

You were finally growing used to your life at Hogwarts. Most of your time was spent with Hermione but you did manage to convince her to ease up a little. She grew busy with a club or something so she was more than happy to leave you to your own devices.

"You wanted to see me, Professor," you announce, entering the pink lion's den. It was somehow looking even pinker than the last time you stepped foot in here.

"Ah yes, please do take a seat. I'll be just a moment." Dropping your bag down beside the chair, you sit in the seat she signalled to. There wasn't a lot of time before you were supposed to meet Hermione to practice some charms. After a moment, Professor Umbridge speaks up. "Do you know why I've asked to see you?"

You shake your head slowly.

"Do you remember what I told you when you first arrived?"

"To get a tutor? I don't believe I'm falling behind in my classes." Hermione had been a great teacher overall; ensuring you understand everything before moving on although Snape still had a habit of asking you questions you didn't know. Was this about that?

"I'm referring to your choice in companions."

"Oh," you swallow hard. You didn't know what to say to that. Since arriving you'd started hanging with Hermione and her friends. You'd also found yourself drawn to the Weasley twins on the odd occasion. "Uh... I can assure you I've made friends Professor."

"I've noticed," she didn't sound pleased "Professor Snape also mentioned that you've been a wee bit disruptive in his class."

"That's not a fair judgment-" The words leave your lips sharper than intended but fall short when you notice the crease across the other woman's forehead.

"As headmaster, you must realise that I can't allow you to disrupt the way this school runs. Therefore you will be punished." Other than getting questions wrong, you wouldn't say you've done much else wrong in Snape's class. It wasn't fair that you were being punished for something so trivial but speaking up seemed like a one way trip to something worse. "Don't look so worried. You'll just be writing lines for me."

"Writing lines," you repeat cautiously. That seemed easy enough before you could reach into your bag, a quill and piece of parchment are placed before you. "What do you want me to write?"

"I must not fraternise with muggle-borns,"

"What does that have to do with Snape's class?" You wonder.

"Just do as your told," Umbridge quips quickly. "I do believe you've been seen around the castle with Miss Granger, correct?"

"Hermione?" You hardly believed Hermione had done anything to step out of line. Plus what did that have to do with anything? You were allowed to be friends with whoever you wanted. "Of course she is my tutor after all."

"It seems it may be more than that," Umbridge's sickeningly sweet giggle fills the office. "Now please begin."

"You haven't given me any ink?"

Striding behind her desk, she takes a seat and offers a smile. "You won't need any,"

Picking up the quill, you twist it between your fingers trying to figure out its secrets. It was black in colour, long, thin, and looked to be extremely sharp. Clearly, it was an enchanted quill if it didn't need ink. The tip glides across the paper with ease, gracing its surface with the ridiculous phrase you'd been forced to write in shiny red ink. How many times was she expecting you to do this? Hermione wouldn't be happy if you turned up late to one of your study sessions... again. A weird tingling spilt through the back of your hand before transforming into a sharp pain as you write the phrase a second time. Each letter appeared on your hand as you write it as if etched there by a scalpel. You drop the quill and the words slowly fade away but not without leaving your hand red. "Keep writing," Umbridge draws your attention, peering over from behind her teacup. You take a deep breath and write I must not fraternize with muggle-borns, the searing pain returned to your hand as you saw the phrase carved into your skin. You flex your hand as if that would relieve the pain but again the wound heels over. You no longer stopped between each line, the burning in your hand now a constant but it seemed after so many times the phrase was no longer fading. The hand on your shoulder startles you; the quill slipping from your grip.

"I think that's enough, you're free to go." Grabbing your bag, you leap out of your seat and rush for the door. "As a witch of your social standing, you should know better."

Head down, you charge through the castle to go meet Hermione but your speed slows as you realise tears prick your eyes. Dropping down on the nearest bench, you bury your face in your hands. Surely that kind of punishment wasn't allowed?

"If it isn't our favourite American." Head shooting up, you spy Fred and George. After all this time, you were beginning to be able to tell them apart.

"Why so glum, chum?" Your eyes drift just briefly to the scar on your hand. The twins taking up space either side of you.

"It's nothing- I'm fine."

"If you're fine, why are you crying?" Fred puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm not crying," but you have to wipe your cheeks to make sure. "I just..." you couldn't explain why you were so upset. Your thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Oh- it's no so bad," Fred squeezes your arm gently, they must have figured it out. "It'll fade soon enough."

"And it doesn't hurt very long, look." George shows you the back of his hand, you can't even read what it was supposed to have said. It doesn't make you feel better. "Don't cry, she's not worth it."

"Can you two leave me alone?"

"Nope," George's thumb brushes away a stray tear before tapping you on the end of your nose. You couldn't help but smile a little as you scrunched up your nose.

"We don't leave pretty sad girls alone in corridors to cry." Fred insists. "How about you show us what she had you write?"

Unsure about the decision, you let the two of them see what Umbridge had done. George takes hold of your hand, inspecting it carefully. "I must not fraternize with muggle-borns," George reads out quietly. "Do much fraternizing do you?"

"I don't even know any muggle-borns," Is all you say in response. Muggle was such a dumb word.

"Uh... Hermione? Aren't you two like best friends," Fred comments

"Hermione is No-Maj-born?" So that was why Umbridge had seemed so interested in your relationship. It was clear she held prejudice against No-Majs so it was only logical that she was trying to keep you, a pure-blood wizard, from mixing with Hermione, A no-maj-born.

"No-maj?" George questions

"Right, no-maj stand for no magic? You call em muggles." You sniffle, drying your cheeks properly.

"Ah no-maj." they both repeat.

Feeling a little better the twins escort you to your courtyard for your session with Hermione. She was packing up her textbook when she finally notices you. 0What did I tell you about punctuation? I will not tolerate sitting around here like a fool- if you do not wish to take your studies seriously then don't bother asking me to tutor you at all." The fire behind her eyes brings you to tears only this time they were hot and fast. Spilling down your face as a result of being yelled at. Hermione's expression drops, your tears extinguishing the fire. "I- Uh... sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I-It's alright," With the sleeve of your cardigan, you try to wipe away all evidence of your breakdown.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"Umbridge," You don't even try to conceal it now. "I don't think she likes that we're hanging out."

"I'm sorry she did that to you," She takes your hand in hers, her fingertip dancing delicately over your scar. It was ripe to the touch causing you to flinch a little; pulling your hand away. "You should tell your parents."

"And cause more trouble?" Was she crazy? "I don't want to give her any more reason to drag me into the office again."

"Then... if you don't wish to continue our study sessions, I would understand. I don't want to get you into trouble." Hermione fidgets with the strap of her bag, unable to look you in the eye. It was probably the smartest choice to never hang out with Hermione again. It would certainly save you from future punishments but if you did that you'd undoubtedly miss her. She'd become such a constant In your life, you could imagine it without her in it.

"I like our sessions together," You declare, offering her the warmest smile you could muster. "Can we skip today though? My hand stings and I'm really not in the mood anymore."

"Sure," Her smile looks almost sad in comparison. "Should we go get some dinner?"

Finishing up packing, the two of you head for the great hall. There was no way Umbridge was gonna dictate who you can be friends with even if it meant more punishment.

Christmas approaches fast and brought with it a merry aura that filled every inch of the castle. You linger in the courtyard with your suitcase waiting for Hermione. She promised to meet you before you left but had a commitment to attend to first. You don't question her but you do wish she'd hurry up; it was awfully cold out here. It's a miracle when she finally shows up, a bright smile as she approaches

"I just wanted to give you this before I go." Digging through your pockets, you produce a folded up piece of paper; taking a few steps closer.

"What is it?"

"Open it," The nerves settled in your stomach as she unfolded the paper. This time, using your pencils, you'd manage to create an almost collage of sketches. Each one of the girl who stood next to you right now during different times in the past month. It seemed like a nice little farewell gift. "Have a good break, yeah?"

"These are... you're really good." Hermione meets your soft gaze. Her face pink in colour but that may have been due to the cold. "Thank you." She wears a small, embarrassed smile. "When did you have time to draw these?"

"Never underestimate my ability to avoid my responsibilities and draw pretty girls instead," you tease. Leaning toward you place a kiss against her cheek before pointing to the address you'd written on the bottom. "Write to me."

#Hermione Granger #Hermione Granger x reader #Hermione x reader #Harry potter #hermione granger imagine

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

My Love, My Soulmate

Request: Hi there - I see your requests are open! Would you consider a Marauders era Sirius x reader for a Soulmates au? With Sirius resisting of course! Tattoos, colour, dreams - I don’t mind which you choose. Nice angsty/fluff mix with a tiny bit of zest?! 💕 - @fific7

A/N: Here’s your request! I hope you like and I hope it meets your expectations! There’s a little bit of fluff, little bit of angst and a little bit of zest. I’m unsure of whether my explanation of soulmates makes sense but I still like it nonetheless. Also, I 100% believe that the teachers at Hogwarts had like a bet on which students would end up together and that they thrived on gossip.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: swearing, making out, eludes to sex, angst. If there is anything I've missed, let me know and I’ll add it immediately.

Word count: 3.4k

It starts as a burn. As if you’ve caught yourself on your curling wand. A short, sharp shock of pain and it’s over.

Pulling your wrist from your chest, you peek at the two letters now engrained onto your skin. A mark no bigger than the size of a muggle penny coin details your soulmate’s initials. There in magical black ink are the letters: S.B.

You lie back with a groan, pulling your pillow over your face to hide away the emotions. It seemed the fates were playing a sick game with you when they decided to make Sirius Black your soulmate.

The initials of your soulmate appears on your wrist on your seventeenth birthday. As far as you know, it is only a phenomenon that occurs within the wizarding community. Muggles, for the sake of their hearts, believe in soulmates but will spend their lives trying to find their perfect match. For wizards, the soulmate mark is the result of the countless hunts for witches and wizards across history. As society progressed and began to hunt those who did not seem to fit with the norms, the fates decided that every witch and wizard would find their soulmate at the age of seventeen as a way to protect the population. It would manifest in a bond between the soulmates; only felt between the two individuals.

As witches and wizards went underground and hid their identities, the soulmate mark and the subsequent bond became a thing of fairy tales told before bedtime. Little girls and boys lulled to sleep with the idea that somewhere in the big, wide world there was someone waiting for them.

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Sirius sees the initials on his wrist and knows immediately whose they are. Your face flashes in his mind and he groans as he falls back onto his pillow.

For so long, he has dreaded this day. He believed in soulmates, he did. His own parents were soulmates; their initials marking each of their wrists. But they were completely wrong for each other, and he slowly saw his mother become poisoned with his father’s vitriol. From a young age, Sirius had always questioned the magic behind soulmates. If they partnered someone as lovely as his mother with someone as mean as his father then he couldn’t put much stock in the whole institution.

He watches you that day; checking for any reaction for whether his initials had been marked onto your wrist. The day ends with him feeling disappointed; you either hadn’t got the marks yet or you were an exceptionally good actress. Your face gave nothing away the whole day other than curiosity when you caught his eyes on you for the third time.

You were the complete opposite to him. He loved heavy metal music; you preferred the crooning sounds of artists such as Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong. Sirius had heard you hum their songs under your breath enough that he was sure he knew the lyrics to them.

You think pranks are childish and they have the potential to be a real danger; he disagrees, he thinks that pranks can be a work of genius if the right amount of planning and preparation is put into it.

Sirius frowns; he didn’t think he paid you this much attention. You had never flowed in the same social circle; conversations between the two of you limited to classes where communication was only necessary if you were sat together. He found you attractive, that much he could not deny. But the fear of turning out like his parents loomed over him; prevented him from taking it any further.

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“He couldn’t be any more my polar opposite!” You moan to your friend, Jude.

It had been a month since Sirius’ initials had appeared on your wrist, and for all of your wondering, you could not figure out how Sirius worked out to be your soulmate. There was so little you had in common. The only things being your academic status and a love of books. It was rare to see Sirius with a book when he was in a crowd, but when it was him and the Marauders in the common room, he could be found with a leather-bound book open on his lap. His eyes would scan the pages so fast, you wondered if he was truly reading the words on the page.

Jude pats your head, “Yes, you’ve mentioned.”

“Jude… I need a little more sympathy here, please.”

She frowns, “It’s hard to dredge up more sympathy when all you’ve done is complain since you found his initials, my dear.”

You frown back at her, “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’ve been an arse about this – who knows? Don’t they say opposites attract?”

Jude smiles at you, “I do believe that is the saying.”

“Well let’s hope it’s true then.” You murmur, your eyes landing on the shaggy-haired Marauder sat further down the table from you. His friend, James, elbows him, pointing over to you when Sirius protests his elbow. Your heart starts to race the minute you lock eyes with Sirius; for a singular moment, everything else seems to fade away and your vision solely focuses on him.

The moment is broken when Sirius turns away with a scoff.

The hope that had begun to grow within you quickly dims. You let your head fall onto your arms, “I don’t think he likes me, Jude.”

Jude tuts, sending a glare down the table to where the Marauders sit, “Then he’s a prick.”

“That’s my soulmate you’re talking about.”

Jude shrugs, “He’s still a prick. If you were my soulmate, I’d be over the moon.”

“You’re too good to me, Jude.”

“I know.” She states, “Now, come on, we’ve got Charms first and I want to practice the Deletrius charm, I’m certain it’ll come up on the summer exams.”

You let her drag you out of the Great Hall by the hand, feeling Sirius’ eyes on you with every step you take.

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Filius Flitwick was an exceptional teacher and an interesting man – but he was also notorious for loving gossip. The staff room at Hogwarts was always rife with gossip when another pair of students had found their soulmate in each other. Professor McGonagall would always claim that she had known from the start; Flitwick was not one to argue with her. Besides, she was probably right.

The staff room was positively rioting when news hit of Sirius Black finding his soulmate in (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Professor Flitwick wanted to question the match given how at odds they were to each other, but he knew never to argue with the fates.

Professor Flitwick had changed the seating plan.

He changed the seating plan so Sirius would be sat next to (Y/N). The teachers at Hogwarts all promised to not intervene with soulmates, yet they all did. Professor McGonagall would be happy to hear of this prompting; she had been worrying over Sirius Black finding his soulmate for longer than she cared to admit.

Walking into Charms, you saw that the class was lined up against the back wall. You grumbled to yourself; the last thing needed was a new seating plan. You got on well with the Ravenclaw girl you were sitting next to, you didn’t want any more change.

Your stomach dropped to the floor when Professor Flitwick announced that your new place would be next to Sirius.

You felt as if you were in two minds. Since seeing his initials on your wrist, you were drawn to him – wanting nothing more to be in his orbit. Yet, the look on his face as he turned away from you in the Great Hall had dread unfurling in your stomach as you walked towards your new seating place.

“Sir, what was wrong with the old seating plan?” Sirius asks, refusing to take his seat next to you.

“Seating plans need to change to better fit the needs of the students, Mr Black. Please take your seat next to Miss (Y/L/N) so I can begin my lesson.”

Sirius grits his teeth as he slides into the seat next to yours. His entire body tense while he opens his parchment and prepares his quill and ink.

It doesn’t take long for the atmosphere to change between the two of you.

It’s like electricity, or so you think. The space between the two of you hums to life and you can feel the change. You gasp involuntarily, biting your lip as goose bumps break out across your skin at the mere notion of having Sirius this close to you. You know he hears your gasp and you know he feels the same as you; he shifts imperceptibly to try and stave off whatever he’s feeling but he’s finding it harder and harder to resist you.

It’s the bond between soulmates, you think to yourself. The bond was a living, breathing thing between the pair whether it was accepted or not.

The class drags on for what feels like hours. Sirius gives up trying to pay any attention to Professor Flitwick and instead, focuses on resisting the urge to drag you from the classroom.

He practically throws his things into his bag when Professor Flitwick dismisses the class at the sound of the bell.

“Sirius, I need to talk to you.” You call, following him from the classroom.

“I know what you want to talk about, and believe me, I was just as shocked as you were when I found your initials on my wrist.”

“But what do we do about it?” He can hear the hope in your voice and see the promises in your eyes.

It almost breaks him when he says, “Nothing. We do nothing.”

Your mouth drops open, “What? Why?”

“I didn’t choose you.”

“It isn’t a choice, Sirius. The fates decide soulmates, everyone knows that.”

“Still. I didn’t choose you.”

His words land this time; each one a blow to your heart. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall, gritting your teeth to stop them. You would not show an ounce of weakness in front of him. Anger rises within you, turning your blood to flame.

You glare at the teenager in front of you, spitting the words, “I wouldn’t have picked you for me either, but the fates did Sirius and it’s something that we both have to live with.”

You turn away from him, leaving him there in the corridor. You barely make it to the common room before the tears start to fall and your breath falls short due to the sobs heaving from your chest. You blindly make your way to your room, pausing now and then to wipe the tears from your eyes and to berate yourself for crying over a silly boy.

But he isn’t a silly boy; he’s your soulmate and he rejected you. That lone thought has the tears beginning all over again as you hide yourself under your duvet, making sure to pull on all the curtains around your bed.

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His rejection of the bond did nothing for your feelings. If anything, they made them stronger, but you knew that you could not act on it. Sirius had made his feelings for you clear so you settled for loving him from the sidelines; watching as he hid his wrist whenever he started to flirt with other girls.

It destroyed you, but he had made his decision. You would not push him on this.

In such a short amount of time, you had gone from barely recognising Sirius as a friend to being his soulmate to being completely in love with him. Whenever you thought of your feelings for the Marauder, you felt dizzy because of how fast it had all happened. If this was the magic of soulmates, you felt whiplashed.

Jude remained your rock; handing you tissues and listening to your complaints. She had found her soulmate; a Slytherin named Poppy. And yet, Jude remained by your side through it all. Poppy joining her more often than not, and a close friendship developed between you both. You felt like a burden to them; ruining their happiness with your sadness but they assured you that they would have a lifetime to be happy. But they wanted you to be happy too – which you were working on.

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Sirius felt awful. Truthfully, he felt empty. And he had done since he said those words to you after Charms class.

He felt the idiot; he felt the fool. He could see how it was affecting you and knew that it was mirrored on his own face. He was just so scared of turning out like his parents; of fulfilling the cursed cycle all the couples in his family seem to take. First, loving each other passionately before turning to hate each other down the line. If that happened with you, he would never forgive himself.

He watches you from across the room. Your nose stuck in a book that he’s seen you read a thousand times over the last month; as if this particular book is a comfort read. He takes a deep breath before walking over to you.

“Can we talk?” He asks you, motioning to the stairs that lead to the boys dormitories – the only place in Gryffindor tower where there is privacy.

You nod, not trusting your voice around him. You wanted so badly to say no, that he has to earn that right but looking into his eyes, seeing the small light of hope there. You had to say yes. Your mind rebelled, throwing every logical reason at you, but your heart won out and you were following him up the stairs before your mind could catch up.

Sirius holds the door open for you. You duck inside, stopping in the middle of room. Tensing slightly as you hear the door shut.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks, joining you in the middle of the room.

“Of course.”

“I didn’t want to reject the soulmate bond.”

“What?” A hot flash of anger pangs through your body – how dare he say that? How dare he say that after the pain you’ve been through watching him with other girls and keeping your mouth shut.

“I didn’t want to reject the soulmate bond.”

“Then why did you? Why have I sat by for a month with a broken heart?”

He voice is small when he replies, “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t want us to be like my parents,” He confesses, “They’re soulmates yet entirely wrong for each other. It’s like that with every couple in my family, and I would never forgive myself that happened to us. So I pushed you away, told you I didn’t want the bond and then flirted with other girls to dig it in. It was a shitty move, and I am so sorry, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to stay away from you, I want to be with you.”

“Sirius, I just spent the last month of my life wondering what was so wrong with me that you couldn’t possibly love me. I sat by and tried to be happy for my best friend who had found her soulmate, but I couldn’t because my heart was in pieces. I watched you flirt with other girls as if I was nothing to you and it broke me. And it was because you were scared? Sirius, you should have talked to me. I know that we didn’t socialise much before, but you should have told your fears when my initials showed up on your wrist. I am your soulmate; I am supposed to help you through it all.”

Sirius falls to his knees before you, pressing his face to your stomach, “I know, I know. You’re right, and if I need to I’ll stay on my knees and beg for your forgiveness even though I don’t deserve it. But we can do this right? We can be together?”

Your hands begin to card themselves through his hair without thinking, “Sirius…”

He shakes his head, “There aren’t enough words in the English language for me to tell you how sorry I am. I felt it too; I felt the heartbreak and the sadness. I shouldn’t have done it, but my fear outweighed my logic.”

“We aren’t going to be like your parents.”

“But how do you know?” He whispers, fear creeping into his voice.

Your hand cradles his cheek, “Because I’ll remind you… every single day if I need to. I’m not saying I forgive you immediately, but I want this to work. The fates gave me your initials for a reason; I felt our bond in Charms, we are destined to be together.”

Sirius presses his face into your hand, dropping a kiss to the palm, “I didn’t mean it, you know. If I had to pick anyone to be my soulmate, it would be you. I am honoured that it is you.”

“You mean it?”

“I do. You’re perfect for me, and I think I’ve already fallen in love with you.” He states, eyes shining with unshed tears.

You close your eyes, his words feeling like balm spread over the gaping wound of your heart, “Thank god, because I’ve fallen in love with you too. I didn’t mean it either, I would always pick you.”

You are in his arms in an instant; his mouth hot and insistent on yours. His hands roam over your body. Your hands in his hair, grabbing a handful to keep him pressed to you. At the feel of his touch, all previous reservations fly out of your mind – the only word running through your brain is his name being repeated like a prayer. His touch feels so right, and you simply give in to what your heart has wanted since the night you saw his initials.

He walks you back towards the bed, never once pulling his lips away from yours. He only pulls away when he lays you down on top of his covers; you lie underneath him happily, enjoying the feeling of his lips leaving open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your neck and collarbone. His hands undo the buttons to your shirt, and you shift so he can push your shirt from your shoulders. He latches his lips back to your collarbone, sucking a mark there that will surely be a dark bruise by morning.

Your hands shove the hem of his t-shirt up; he pulls away from your body for long enough to take the shirt off. The minute its gone; your hands run over the expanse of his stomach, savouring the feeling of his muscles contracting at your touch. You pull his face back to yours, desperate to feel him. Your lips glide together seamlessly; as if made for each other.

Sirius runs his hands down your sides; memorising every curve of your body, grinning into the kiss as you shiver underneath him. You bite down on bottom lip; a move that has him moaning into your mouth.

“I need to know…” He whispers into your mouth; the words barely heard as they’re swallowed by you.

“What?”

“Do you want to do this?” He asks, pulling away from your mouth to run his eyes over your face, checking for any hint of hesitation whilst simultaneously asking for permission.

Your eyes sting with the tears at his care for you. You kiss him sweetly, lovingly before looking into his eyes, “I want this. I want it to be with you.”

That’s all he needs to know before he’s casting a silencing charm on the room and locking the door.

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

Sirius finds it hard to keep his hands off you after the acceptance of the bond. He has to be touching you at all times whether it’s a shoulder pressed against yours, his hand holding on tight to yours, or his arms around your waist. It keeps him grounded, it keeps him calm when the stresses of life begin to settle in.

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship; how cruel he was, and he looks at you in awe because he still doesn’t understand how you could forgive him – let alone, love him. On the days where those thoughts plague his mind, he places kiss after kiss on the mark on your wrist where his initials sit.

You know the meaning behind these kisses, knowing he’s torturing himself internally. On these days, you draw his attention from your wrist to your mouth instead where you remind him of how much you love him and how you’ve forgiven him for those early days.

His fears are quashed and his love for you only grows. You’re his soulmate, he’s yours. It’s as simple as that.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @slytherinprincess03 @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis @masterofthedarkness @bforbroadway @chaotic-fae-queen @peachesandpinks @nebulablakemurphy @haphazardhufflepuff

Sirius Black taglist: @cheapglitter @fific7

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headheartbellarke · 4 years ago

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LIGHT A FIRE IN MY EYES | Owen Patrick Joyner

PAIRING(S): Charlie Gillespie’s sister!Reader x Owen Patrick Joyner

WARNING(S): fluff, angst

WORDS: 3.4k

SUMMARY: where Y/N is charlie gillespie’s sister, and while living with him and owen, unexpected feelings rise up. (im so bad at these)

READER’S POV

A rhythmic knock on my bedroom door breaks me out of my trance. I push my glasses further up my nose and close my physics textbook, dropping my pencil between the pages to bookmark it. Pushing myself off the chair, I stretch my arms above my head – I’ve been sitting at my desk for about five hours now, trying to revise everything for my exam tomorrow. I walk over to my door, and unlock it, and I’m greeted by my brother, Charlie. He takes in my appearance and frowns.

“I thought you were still sleeping. When did you get up?”

“Uhh…” I trail off, looking behind me at the clock mounted on the wall opposite to me. 10:30 AM. “About 5, yeah.”

I turn back and notice my brother widening his eyes. “Are you okay, little one?”

I’m not a morning person, under no circumstances ever. Growing up, I’ve always been the last person to wake up – Charlie being the first. So, I guess it’s awfully unusual for him to hear this.

“This is college, honey. You wouldn’t know.” I shrug at him and he grins. I’ve always hated the fact that he got a free pass from college, since he’s an actor.

That is also the reason why he’s here. We grew up in Canada – Charlie, me, my two other older brothers and my twin sister Meghan. Growing up, Charlie, Meghan and I were inseparable – since we’re closer in age – Charlie’s only two years older than Meghan and me. But I had to leave home for college – I got into Caltech, and that was not an opportunity I was about to give up, even though Charlie protested so many times that I’m apparently the baby of the house and I shouldn’t go to another country alone.

Now, he’s living with me – he is shooting for his show, Julie and The Phantoms (proud sister, here), and they have a couple of scenes and some recording to do in LA, so he’s staying in my apartment for a week, along with his friend, co-star and roommate back in Vancouver, Owen. Previously, they lived with me for more than a month when they had to go through musical bootcamp or something for the sake of the show. (So proud.)

That was also when I’d developed a massive crush on Owen.

Charlie was living with me for a good two weeks when, one day, he took me out to meet the rest of the cast. (Who were all lovely, by the way.) On the drive there, he told me that Owen had been living in a hotel since he’s originally from Oklahoma, and that Charlie’s thinking of asking him to come live with us, if I was okay with that. Of course, I had said yes. I had ample space in my duplex apartment and living alone is boring. So, Charlie introduced me to Owen and we immediately hit it off. Of course, I thought that he was incredibly attractive when we met. But I meet a lot of attractive people at university.

Then, we started living together, and I realized how amazing Owen actually is. He’s an absolute dork – but he’s also funny, very kind, thoughtful, compassionate, altruistic and so, so nice. Both of us have a lot in common, and there’s always been this unsaid, unacknowledged chemistry between us that a lot of the other cast members had picked up on. (Not my brother, though. He would have killed Owen.) We had so much fun when we were together – he turned everything into an adventure. The best part was that I got to be myself, completely, whenever I was around him. I got to talk about whatever I wanted with him – he never, ever judged me.

Before they went to Vancouver when production for the show began, we had a last night out with the rest of the cast and a bunch of family members – except the kids. We went to this bar near my college. I was so, so drunk and then I suddenly started feeling queasy and Owen offered to take me home since Charlie was in the same position. There was so much traffic and Owen and I kept singing whatever song was on the radio to pass the time – LA traffic – when we were both leaning across our seats and we started kissing. I remember feeling like I would burst from the happiness and the softness, the affection, the admiration that he had in his eyes when he looked at me.

Of course, I fell asleep pretty soon after the traffic dissipated and woke up next morning to find him packing for his trip. That was when I’d realized that no matter how much I liked him, we could never be together. First of all, long distance relationships almost never work out, and secondly, he’s my brother’s best friend. That was why I chose to just give him a quick hug goodbye and head to college – without even bothering to drop them off at the airport, or even talking to him.

He texted and called a couple of times after that, too. But I never responded, never even opened any of his texts – because I knew that once I do that, I would definitely call him. That went on for a week, and the only time we spoke was when he’d texted me from Savannah’s phone: why are you ignoring me? I texted back all the reasons why we couldn’t ever be together, and I didn’t hear from him for another week, until Charlie called me the day before yesterday, telling me that they have a couple of scenes to do in LA, along with some recording stuff, and they’ll stay with me for a few days. I had to approve, or else Charlie might figure out everything.

They arrived yesterday, and I think that I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring him so far.

Charlie’s voice breaks me out of my train of thoughts. “You have exams or what?”

I nod. “Applied physics, tomorrow. Are you going out?” I ask, pointing at his dark blue jeans.

“Madi and I are writing this song together. You’ll love it.”

I smile at him. “If I’m not the first one to hear it –”

He hums, a chuckle escaping him. I lean against the doorframe, as he continues, “Owen just woke up. He doesn’t start his scenes until tomorrow, so I told him to take care of you today, while I’m away.”

I ignore the way my heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name and flatten my lips. “I’m 19, Charlie, I can –”

“Take care of yourself, blah blah blah. I don’t care.”

I roll my eyes, and playfully shove him forward. He stumbles a few steps backwards and furrows his brows at me. “Ouch!”

“Are you taking my car?”

He nods. “Where –”

“In the magnetic key holder on the fridge.”

“Okay, sis.” He smiles at me, leaning forward to ruffle my hair – which makes it even messier than it already was. “Go away!” I grumble, trying to pat his hand away. “Never!” He calls out, turning toward the kitchen to grab the keys.

I shake my head and laugh. “Love you!”

He shouts back, without looking behind at me. “Love you most!”

****

The delicious smell of pancakes reminds me of the fact that I haven’t eaten since last night. I drag my feet to the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for the person I’m about to encounter in there.

“Uh, hi…” I hesitantly call out, entering the kitchen – and notice a very shirtless Owen, with his very shirtless back turned towards me. He turns around at the sound of my voice, and a few strands of golden blonde hair fall across his eyes. I long to reach my hand across and push those away.

Instead, he himself does that as his eyes flit over me, and a look of pain flashes through his eyes. I hate that I’m the cause of that.

“I was wondering how you would ignore me when we’re living in the same apartment.”

“I deserve that.” I walk over to the stove to stand beside him.

He ignores me and goes back to flipping golden brown pancakes which smell amazing, but all I can focus on is the curve of his back, the hollow space between his collarbones, and the way his hands grip on the pan a little too hard. I feel a warmth course through my body and find myself missing the way he used to wrap his arms around me from behind in the mornings when Charlie was still asleep.

“Owen,” I whisper, and he inhales sharply at that. “Please. I don’t want things to be like this – I don’t want us to be like this.”

He uses his spatula to lift the pancake and puts it atop other pancakes on a plate beside the stove and turns it off. He turns around to face me, biting his lip and I think I just had an aneurysm because of the intensity of his gaze.

He sighs, leaning against the counter. “Y/N. You made it pretty clear that there would never be an ‘us.’”

“I know. But we can still be friends, right? Like we were before… everything.”

“See, that’s the thing. I can’t. Y/N, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through for the past two weeks?” He snaps.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I reply, hotly. “Owen, it broke me inside to ask you to stay away. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?”

“No! I don’t, because you don’t talk to me, Y/N.”

“I told you, there is no point in doing long distance –”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N, and you know it, too. I think you’re just too scared to be with me because you think that I’d break your heart, leave you alone or hurt you. But that’s the thing, Y/N – I won’t do any of that to you, because that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.” He crosses his arms across his chest.

I breathe out shakily, running a hand through my curls. “That’s not true –”

Owen scoffs. “Please, Y/N. I know you.”

I lower my eyes from his because I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me.

“Y/N, do you know how fucking hard the past week’s been for me? I can’t even talk to anyone about it, because the only person I wanna talk to is your brother and we all know what will happen if I do that. He’s my best friend, and I’ve been lying to him for weeks, pretending that I like this hairdresser, when in reality, I’m head over heels for his sister. I can’t tell him that I can’t stop thinking about her, and that she’s the only person that can calm me down when I get anxious on set. I can’t tell him that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it’s killing me inside to not talk to her!”

He finishes, breathing out heavily. I look at his eyes and notice that they’re gleaming.

“Wait, what hairdresser?”

He scoffs, annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N?”

I shrug and breathe deeply, trying to stop myself from taking his hands in my own. “You know, there are so many guys at school that ask me out, but I can’t go out with any of them, because guess what, they’re not you. I like you so much, Owen, so, so much, but I can’t do anything about it – because you’re right. I’m scared. I’m terrified that you’ll leave me, because I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I’m so scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize that I’m not who you want anymore. I’m scared that maybe you’ll hurt me or meet someone else in Vancouver. I’m scared about so many things because that’s exactly how much I care about you, Owen!”

I take a step further and we are standing mere inches apart. I can feel him breathe out raggedly and see the curve of his nose and his darkened eyes flickering to my lips.

“I would never, ever do that to you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. Please, please believe me.” He whispers out, and I tell myself to stop, to turn back, to go into my room but instead I just stand there and watch him exhale out, and I know he’s feeling anxious. I lift a hand to his face and cup his cheek in the palm of my hand and he leans his face onto my hand, resting his right hand over mine. The gesture calms the both of us down, and I know, in that moment, that I believe him. That he, us – is a risk worth taking.

“Your hands are so cold.” He whispers. I nod. “Yours are warm.”

Both of us stand there, in the kitchen, trying to make sense of what just happened – trying to hold on to this moment. A silence engulfs the both of us, as I sort through my thoughts.

“Owen,” I whisper. He flicks his eyes to mine. “Promise me you won’t do any of that.”

He raises his left hand, jutting out his little finger. I raise my other hand too, and he wraps his little finger around mine and whispers back, “Pinkie promise.”

“Okay.” I whisper, neither of us daring to uncurl our fingers or look anywhere else.

“Promise me that you wouldn’t leave me for some future tech billionaire.”

I scrunch my face up at that. “What? No!”

“Promise me you’d call –”

“Every single day, Owen. You too.”

Both of us nod together, and he lifts his other hand to tuck a curl that had previously escaped from my actually-messy-and-not-cute bun. “You’re so beautiful.”

I smile, and a tear escapes my eyes – Owen rubbing it away with his thumb. I lean forward, standing on my tiptoes and rest my hands against his bare chest for support as I press my lips to his. He smiles against the kiss, and I feel as if a zoo has gone wild in my stomach. I feel warmth and happiness course through my veins as Owen deepens the kiss, the intense longing in the both of us for each other clawing its way out to the surface. It’s almost as if I’m drinking water for the first time in a week. He tastes like banana pancakes, chocolate syrup and everything good in the world. I press myself against him, wrapping my arms around neck while he does the same around my torso. It frightens me a little how well our bodies fit against each other – but it makes me feel strong knowing that I have an amazing person who genuinely cares about me.

****

CHARLIE’S POV

Charlie unlocked the door to his sister’s apartment, mentally noting to remind her of the fact that her car desperately needs a wash. He enters the foyer, and drops the keys in a bowl, kicking off his shoes.

Suddenly, he pauses, noticing how incredibly quiet the apartment is – which is unlike Y/N. She always has music blasting or the TV running – she hates the quiet. He quickly walks into the living room and almost screams in surprise.

His little sister and his best friend are curled up on the sofa, their backs towards him. Y/N is lying on Owen’s chest and she has an arm wrapped around his torso while Owen’s arms are interlocked at the front, holding her against his body. Their tangled legs peek from underneath the quilt that Charlie and Y/N’s mother knit for her youngest daughter last Christmas. She laughs at something that Owen whispers into her ear, and he presses a kiss to her forehead, and they look at each other with so much adoration that Charlie has to look away.

He sighs, mentally cursing himself for being so, so stupid. How could he have ignored the signs? Charlie remembers Y/N and Owen meeting, both in a daze, both smiling a little too much and Y/N walking with a skip in her steps. He remembers them talking for hours on end, binging Brooklyn 99 on weekends, and always hanging out with each other whenever they went to the same parties. He remembers that morning three weeks ago when he’d woken up late, and gone to the kitchen only to find the duo springing apart from each other, both erupting in a flurry of coughs and laughs, as if he’d just walked on them robbing a bank – Owen had explained that he had apparently broken a glass. He remembers the way Owen would look at her, as if she had just done something miraculous. He remembers the way Y/N would look at his best friend, as if he was made of everything good in the world.

Most of all, he remembers how Owen sulked whenever he was alone back in Vancouver. He remembers how Owen constantly declined to go out with that cute hairdresser. He remembers how Owen sometimes seemed out of it. He remembers how Owen would sprint whenever Charlie called his sister. He remembers how Owen would keep checking his phone every few minutes in between takes.

Charlie also remembers his sister asking about how Owen is when they talked on the phone, and how her voice seemed like she was asking something that was forbidden, something that was evil. He remembers how she would always hang up the phone whenever she heard Owen’s voice. He remembers her always declining his invites to go to Vancouver.

How could he have been so dumb? The signs were right there. He lived with Owen, for god’s sake! Charlie feels an array of emotions. He’s always hated Y/N’s choice in men, despised anyone putting their hands on his baby sister’s body.

But, to see them like this – to see Y/N look so safe, so comfortable in Owen’s arms, he can’t help but feel relief flood into his system. Because he knows his best friend, and he knows what kind of person he is. And now, he thinks just how much sense they make together. Sure, Owen is kind of stupid, reckless, impulsive, and clumsy – but so is Y/N – well, she’s not stupid, he thinks. She’s the smartest person in their family. But she has a fire within her – and his best friend matches that fire. Charlie thinks of the fact that they complement each other so nicely, both are caring, passionate, and kind-hearted. Of course, they would fall for each other. It just makes so much sense – they make so much sense.

Still, Charlie feels hurt that neither of them bothered to tell him about it. (even though he won’t admit it, it’s understandable, really – considering the way he’s bugged his sister about her previous relationships.)

He clears his throat and the duo on the couch jump apart, both flushed and with their eyes widened. Owen stands up, moving away from couch, while Y/N looks at her brother as if he’s a ghost.

A silence falls over the apartment. Y/N finally says, “How’d you – how’d you get in?”

He shrugs. “I had a spare key.”

Owen looks between his girlfriend and his best friend, with widened eyes. “Charlie, I’m so sorry –”

Suddenly, Charlie laughs, swatting at the air. “Pfft. You think I’m gonna be the weird brother who kills his best friend for dating his sister? Come on, this isn’t a TV show. I’m actually really happy for you guys – I ignored all the signs these past weeks, but I see them now. Of course, it’s really weird for me, but I love the both of you so much. Owen, relax, I’m not gonna kill you. Dude. Just don’t kiss or anything in front of me, cause that’s gross. Ew. You know what, don’t do that at all. And I’ll kill you, Owen, if you ever hurt her, I swear. I’ll put poison in your waffles. I just don’t understand why –”

Charlie is cut off by his sister tackling him in a hug. He wraps his arms around her body, as she whispers, “I love you, big brother.”

He murmurs, “Love you most, little one.” He catches Owen’s eye who looks at him with gratefulness and a little smile.

****

READ ON AO3 WITH OC!

drop an ask or a message to be in my jatp taglist!! requests also open <3

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nicknellie · 4 years ago

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@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

131 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Long Night in the Valley chapter 12

The scene shifted the moment Tempest woke up. They were outside, on a street in the middle of the city. Storm clouds circled overhead.

Tempest stood in front of them, hands in her pockets, a bland expression on her face.

“So,” she drawled. “You’re Nine’s friends.”

“Uh,” said Ochako, taken aback. Right after Four had said she wouldn’t talk to them, this was disconcerting. “Yes?”

“I’m his teacher,” said Aizawa, stepping forward.

“Yeah? You think you’re doing a good job raising up little child soldiers?”

“Excuse me?” said Aizawa.

“You heard me.” She shifted her gaze to Ochako, then to Todoroki and Iida. “I bet Souma told you I wouldn’t be talking to you.”

“He did say something along those lines, yes,” said Iida, even as Ochako worked very hard to elbow him.

“I can follow why he’d think that,” Tempest said. “I spent most of my life fighting against the government. Lord knows I wouldn’t have approved of him choosing a ‘pro hero’ to follow after him.” She took her hands out of her pockets to make air quotes. She was wearing brass knuckles. “Whatever a pro hero is supposed to be. Government lackeys. Cops and war criminals with a different name. I’m shocked he pulled a halfway decent person from the muck.”

“We’re not war criminals!” protested Iida.

“Oh, yeah? I forgot, the Geneva convention was nixed, wasn’t it? They had this big meeting and decided none of it applied to metahumans, and then, bam! Everyone’s a metahuman, so it doesn’t apply at all, huh? Neat, right?”

“What we’re doing now might not be what you’re used to,” said Ochako, “but it’s the way society works, now.”

“And we’re not killing people, like you did,” said Iida. Ochako winced at his combative addition.

“I did what I had to, to get people out of the torture camps,” said Tempest. “People like my little sister. You know what they did to her? They thought her power was just controlled by her voice. So, they cut out her vocal cords.”

“They don’t do that anymore,” said Todoroki.

“You think a government like that is just going to stop doing things? Without people making them? Without being forced?” Tempest laughed and looked up at the swirling sky. “Maybe you do. You’re just kids, after all. But tell me this, do you think they didn’t know exactly what was happening to your family, Todoroki Shouto?”

Aizawa cleared his throat. “What’s your point, here?” he asked. “What do you want from us?”

Tempest looked back at Aizawa. The coldness in her brown eyes made Ochako shiver. “We could have kept you out,” she said. “That Suzuki idiot, too. Do you know why we didn’t?”

“Enlighten us,” said Aizawa.

“Because the way we do it would cause irreparable brain damage. We know, because we’ve done it before. I thought it was worth it, but the others didn’t want to hurt ‘Nine’s friends.’”

“Are you implying that we aren’t Midoriya’s friends?” asked Todoroki, frowning.

Tempest huffed and wind whipped down the road, making Ochako cover her face.

“No. To be honest, I’m not completely sold on Nine, either. He wanted to part of the system so bad, and that’s not to mention—” she huffed again. “At least he knows what it’s like to be on the other side of the equation. You four, though… I’m stuck with Nine. I don’t owe you anything and you’re causing all these problems. What I want from you—”

Behind her, lightning snapped down from the sky.

“—is to prove to me you’re worth it.”

“Vlad, the police were able to find your car,” said Powerloader, holding his hand over the receiver of the staff room telephone.

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Vlad. “I hate taking public transportation.” He paused. “I mean, uh, did they find Yagi? Is he alright?”

“No, they didn’t find Yagi.”

“Great,” said Vlad. “So, ask them when I can pick it up. Why are you making that face? Did Yagi total it? I bet he did. ‘Symbol of Peace,’ my—”

“No,” interrupted Powerloader. “Yagi didn’t total it. Or crash it. It was parked in an alley near the Musutafu entertainment district.”

“Where Midoriya had that fight with Hawks,” said Vlad, putting his head in his hands. “It got wrecked by one of them, didn’t it?”

“No,” said Powerloader. “It was parked in an alley. They found it on a security camera. It isn’t there anymore.”

“They took it again?”

“The League of Villains took it.”

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

The bus felt empty with half the class missing. The remaining 1-A students (plus Shinso) were all huddled together at the front, mooching off of the teachers mobile hotspots.

“Did my email go through yet, kero?” asked Tsuyu, leaning over her seat to look at Denki’s computer.

“Not yet,” said Denki. “I’ve got all the pictures you guys sent arranged, but I wish we had more video material. Ashido was the one with the most…” He sighed. “Ashido, gossip queen, when you wake up I will apologize for all my comments about your hobbies.”

“I have some videos of Midoriya.”

“Trust us, Mineta, no one want your videos,” said Yaoyorozu.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Tell us this. How many of your videos are actually of Midoriya and don’t just have him incidentally in the background while you try to film girls.”

“None of them,” said Mineta, obviously not seeing why this was wrong. “Why would I film Midoriya?”

“Mic,” said Midnight, “please remind me to sign up the walking lawsuit for some sensitivity classes. How did Eraser miss this?”

“Unfortunately, Shouta is about as sexual as the average rock, so…”

“Remind me to sign him up for some training, too, then.”

“Will do.”

“Walking lawsuit?” asked Mineta.

Everyone else sighed. Then Denki’s laptop pinged.

“Huh. I just got an email from Principal Nezu.”

The adults, including Green Light, the bus driver, blanched. Adults were bothered by the weirdest things. In the end, Nezu was just a guy with a quirk, right? A hero, even! Principal Nezu, the Education Hero!

Okay, he’d scared Denki (Mr. Terrible Grades) a lot in elementary and middle school, but really.

(Okay, the crane thing at the Final Exam had been high-key terrifying, but he was trying to get past that.)

“Huh,” repeated Denki, having read the email. “That’s interesting.”

“What is it, my electric friend?” asked Aoyama, drapping himself sideways across his seat.

“Aoyama-san,” said Midnight, “don’t put your feet on the windows.”

“Principal Nezu sent me a link to an ‘All Might adopt a kid’ fanfiction, and it’s by—”

“Midoriya writes fanfiction?” asked Shouji, evidently surprised into using his real mouth to speak.

“That’s cute, kero,” said Tsuyu. “It must have been before he met the real All Might, though.”

“No,” said Denki, “it was last updated just a couple of weeks ago, and, well… Midoriya didn’t write it.”

“So, who did?” asked Yaoyorozu.

“Not Nezu, right?” asked Jiro, winding her earphone jack around her finger.

“There’s no way, right, Kaminari-san?” asked Present Mic, nervously.

“Uh, no, no, it’s, uh, it’s All Might. According to Nezu.”

A beat of silence.

“What?”

Denki inserted his pinky into his right ear, trying to clear it. Man, if the Bakusquad had been here rather than the quiet half of the class…

“Yeah, it says here that this serves All Might right for working on this during school hours?”

More silence.

“Green Light, the road!”

“Oops, sorry!”

“Hey, guys, are we sure that All Might didn’t, you know, kidnap Midoriya rather than the other way around? Guys?”

Gran Torino, also known as Torino Sorahiko, was an active hero. That meant late nights and late mornings. He was also an old man. A very old man. Late mornings often turned into noons and afternoons.

Sometimes, during those noons and afternoons, he liked to ignore technology and the outside world for a good long while. Maybe read the paper a little bit. Or one of those terrible romance novels Nana had left him in her will.

Still, he was a hero, one wrapped up in something best described as a two-hundred-year-long shadow war, so eventually he did turn on the news.

Only to see Toshinori’s boy fighting Hawks on live television.

Not to mention Toshinori hanging out in the background with a shaved head.

And the ticker said UA student Midoriya Izuku kidnaps Symbol of Peace.

(Which was the dumbest thing he had ever heard, and under other circumstances, he would have been rolling on the floor laughing.)

Gran Torino was an old man, but, luckily, he only felt like he was simultaneously having a heart attack and a stroke. His body was more than functional enough to place a not-at-all panicked phone call to one Tsukauchi Naomasa.

Tsukauchi Naomasa was incredibly busy. That busy-ness was divided mostly evenly between desperately trying to find his best friend (who had evidently decided to make a hopefully brief foray into kidnapping teenagers) and trying to figure out what the commission was taking, because it had to be illegal. Oh, and putting together a complaint that the commission was infringing on police prerogatives.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how much traction that last would get, since pro heroes had been steadily gaining more and more responsibilities even as the police were losing both them and the power that came with them. Not to mention Midoriya’s stunt with Hawks… Which… Naomasa just wanted to know why? What had the point of that been? On either side?

(Sometimes he wished he were friends with normal people. Like… he didn’t know… an accountant, maybe?)

(Not that he would give Toshinori up for the world. Just, some normalcy would be nice, too.)

He took a deep breath, remembered what he always told Toshinori about stress, and took a mouthful of room-temperature coffee.

In that thirty-second period, two more problems presented themselves to him.

One, his cell phone began to ring, displaying the contact information for Gran Torino.

Two, his email softly pinged, and a message from Principal Nezu asking for any images or videos Toshinori might have sent him slid into his inbox.

Briefly, Naomasa considered ignoring both of them, but that wasn’t a realistic option and was irresponsible besides. Contrary to his character.

He picked the lesser of two evils and answered Gran Torino’s call.

Garaki was going to have a mental breakdown. This was fitting because his car had broken down. Midoriya Inko was asking him if he thought that his ‘friend’ might come pick them up, if it was safe. If his ‘friend’ had a car.

This last had almost sent him into hysterics. Gigantomachia in a car oh-ho!

Except it wasn’t funny at all, as this was almost certainly going to result in his death at the hands of All for One. No matter that he considered the man his very dearest of friends, he was under no illusions about what All for One would do to him over this inexcusable error.

Perhaps he should just cut his losses and get one of the remote-activated noumu to come for them.

Then, inexorably and inevitably, things managed to get even worse.

“Stop the car!” shouted Tomura.

“But you said not to—”

“I know what I said! Stop the car!”

Tomura twisted to see out the rear passenger window. Everyone else turned to follow his gaze, effectively blocking his view.

“Get out of my way!” demanded Tomura.

There was some awkward, half-hearted shuffling.

“Does that look like anyone to you?” Tomura hissed.

“Yeah! Like the doctor!” said Toga.

“I’ve never seen him standing up, though,” said Spinner, dubiously. “It seems out of character.”

“I didn’t know he owned a car,” mused Compress, rubbing the bottom edge of his mask.

“Not him!” snapped Tomura. “The woman!” He pointed angrily at the rapidly approaching woman with green hair, narrowly avoiding dusting Mr. Compress’s top hat.

“Eh? What about her?” asked Spinner.

“Doesn’t she look familiar to you?”

“To be honest, everyone without mutation quirks looks kind of the same to me.”

“Someone without face blindness.”

“Oh! She looks like Izu-kun! Do you think that’s his mom?”

The woman knocked on the window of the car. Twice, unhelpfully rolled it down.

“Thank you so much for stopping, we—Oh!” She took a step back.

She apparently recognized them. Joy. He was going to unpack his feelings about this woman later.

“Hey, doc,” rasped Tomura, annoyed. “What the hell have you been doing?”

“Ahem,” said Garaki, finally stepping out from behind the car. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Shigaraki Tomura.”

“Because you blew us off and stranded us in the middle of Musutafu?”

“No,” said Garaki, in a way that absolutely meant ‘yes.’ “I knew you were resourceful enough to safely make it out of the city.”

“Oh, yeah? Really? You—”

Compress chose that moment to slam his face into the back of Tomura’s head. Tomura steadied himself automatically on one of the car’s uprights, which cracked dangerously under his hand. He pulled back as if burned.

When he looked up, the gremlin’s mother was halfway to the tree line with – What was that in her hand?

He looked back over his shoulder.

That was Twice’s goddamn mask.

Compress, for some reason, was also missing his stupid mask (and covering his face like the dramatic weirdo he was), and Toga basically had hearts in her eyes. Spinner was being Spinner, and therefore ninety percent useless. He was lucky he was fun to play games with.

How to make her stop?

“Hey!” he shouted. “We have your son!”

This was a lie, as far as he knew (unless Dabi had snatched him on his way back; it wasn’t impossible), but, he was a villain.

The green-haired woman stopped and turned back, allowing Tomura a full view of her expression.

He decided that he regretted everything.

“Okay,” said Izuku, multitasking by letting Two pick the lock on the League’s safe, “considering Gigantomachia’s ability to track by smell and the questionable running water, we can’t just sneak out. He’ll find us. So… I think our best play is getting him to attack Shigaraki, and then when they’re both distracted, we run for it.”

Toshinori nodded and sighed. “If only we had a giant jug of perfume. We could throw it at his face and disrupt his ability to smell us.”

“I mean, I found a whole bunch of garbage a way back. That isn’t perfume, but it does stink.”

“No, no, your plan is superior. We’d draw too much suspicion if we attacked him like that. Perfume could be written off.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Because perfume is a ‘nice’ thing.”

“Indeed.”

“It isn’t actually very nice to have it all over you, though,” said Izuku.

“No,” agreed Toshinori. “It isn’t.”

The safe popped open.

“I won’t ask if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

“But, anyway, assuming we do get away, what then? Where do we go? And—Wow. The League of Villains is broke. I almost feel bad.”

“I was going to say Deika, but that’s too far, now, and we don’t know if Gigantomachia will come after us,” said Toshinori. “Drawing him to a place full of civilians would be irresponsible.”

“Yeah,” said Izuku. He frowned, pulling his head from the safe, and glanced out the window. “What about the Wild Wild Pussycats?”

“What about them?” asked Toshinori.

“They’re near here, aren’t they? And they’ve got that whole complex, so, I mean… I don’t know how they feel about us right now, but it wouldn’t be a terrible place to hide. Would it?”

“I’d hate to bring all of this down on them as well,” said Toshinori. “But… That being said, I don’t believe they’re actually there. They were taking some time off because of what happened to Ragdoll.”

“That makes sense,” said Izuku. “Should we take the risk?”

“I’m unsure if we have a choice, my boy. We could try roughing it, but that puts us in a very vulnerable position.”

“And we can’t stay here, with the League.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Okay.” Izuku sighed and started to thumb through the League’s collection of fake IDs, looking for something he could use. “Wild Wild Pussycats it is. We’ve got to convince Machia to attack Shigaraki, and… then we sneak out the back while they’re fighting.” He shook his head. “It sounds really unheroic when I put it that way.”

“Under these circumstances, I think heroic is the set of actions where no one dies.”

His mentor was right. Izuku still felt weird about this, though. (The pettiness was completely different.)

Not to mention…

He put the last of the fake IDs away and massaged his temples. “They’re doing something weird in there,” he said. “I’m going to check on them. I might be out of it.”

“Don’t worry,” said Toshinori, patting Izuku on the shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on things out here.”

(Perhaps all of this could have gone unsaid, what with their connection, but saying things out loud made them easier to organize.)

“Hey!” shouted Izuku over the roaring wind. “Stop that!”

“Are you going to fight me, Nine? All by yourself?”

“No,” said Izuku, somehow contriving to look down his nose at her despite the height difference and the fact that Tempest was floating several meters in the air. “I won’t have to. Because I have a secret weapon.”

Ochako could almost see Tempest roll her eyes.

“And,” shouted Izuku, “do you seriously think I just wanted to be part of the system? Are you serious? I wanted to help people. People the system failed. It isn’t like they’re responsible for the system either!” He waved his hand to indicate Ochako, Iida, Todoroki, and Aizawa.

“I’d argue about your hobo teacher. Is this your secret weapon?”

“No, this is, Great-Aunt Miranda.”

Tempest opened her mouth, then closed it again. The wind began to die down. “I’m – I don’t know what the point of that was—"

“Neither do I! What’s the point of this?”

“The point is determining whether or not you have people you can rely on, or a bunch of backstabbers who’ll hand you over to a government lab as soon as it’s convenient!” She stabbed a finger at Ochako. “She’s just in ‘heroics’ for the money!” She pointed at Iida. “He’s only here because it’s traditional for his family.” She gestured at Todoroki with her other hand. “He’s doing it mostly out of spite. And who knows what your hobo teacher is doing this for!”

“There’s nothing wrong with any of that!” protested Ochako. “You must have your own motivations, too!”

“She does!” shouted Izuku. “Considering what they are, you have no room to be criticizing Iida! Besides, you don’t even like me!”

“This isn’t about liking you or disliking! You’re the—” Tempest visibly cut herself off, then took a deep breath. She set herself down on the street. “Knowing what we do now about certain things, a fourteen-year-old would not have been my first choice.”

“Excuse me! We’re all sixteen!” said Iida.

“You’re sixteen now, it’s – The fact of the matter is that you’re children. Naïve children.”

“Oh my gosh, you were younger than I was when you—”

“I was kidnapped and tortured—”

“I know, but why are you taking it out on—”

“By the government that you are trying to lick the boot of—”

“Did you see what they did to Suzuki?”

Ochako felt like she was spectating a very passionate tennis match.

“If it means anything,” said Aizawa, dragging himself out of the pile of rubble he’d been thrown into by the wind, “I’m just trying to keep my kids alive as long as possible.”

“Then expel them! Stop them from becoming literal child soldiers!”

“I do,” said Aizawa.

“He does,” confirmed Ochako, who was well acquainted with Aizawa’s reputation.

“He really does,” seconded Todoroki.

“I used to see Tensei’s group chat, and every time he expelled someone…” Iida shivered.

“Huh,” said Todoroki. “Is that why you’re so… insistent about rules?”

“Of course not! Rules are important regardless of why so many students were expelled during the first month of school!”

“So, why didn’t you expel these ones?”

“If you honestly believe the problem child wouldn’t have flung himself at the first villain he saw after that and dove straight into vigilantism, you don’t know him very well.” He sighed, standing, and brushed dust and pebbles out of his tracksuit. “That goes for these three as well. They’re insane and it’s not my fault.”

“Isn’t saving others what heroes do?” asked Izuku, walking closer to Tempest. Ochako wanted to run out and grab him, but this whole ordeal had just shown how useless that would be. “No matter what?”

“Not no matter what. This is why I…” She shook her head, sighing. “Not no matter what.” She leaned forward, her hands on her hips. “Don’t die. You do realize what will happen if you die, right? I don’t have to spell it out for you?”

“N-no,” said Izuku.

“Besides which, I’m not a hero.”

“You saved people,” protested Izuku.

“And, as your friends pointed out, I’ve killed, too.”

“I know,” said Izuku. “But you aren’t a bad person.”

“Lots of people kill during wars,” said Ochako, going to stand by Izuku, “and that’s what you were fighting in, wasn’t it? I mean, I don’t know a lot about that time, but…”

“You wouldn’t. It’s been over a hundred years.”

Izuku nodded. “This fight isn’t doing anything, though. None of us want them here if the vault opens.”

“The what?” asked Iida. “The vault.”

“Hopefully,” said Izuku, “you won’t have to worry about it.”

“The fight did do something, though,” said Tempest.

“What?” asked Izuku.

“For one,” said Tempest, “it made you think. For the other…” Her eyes flicked over Ochako and the others. “Everyone you fight will have their own reasons. Remember that.”

As they walked down the street, storms still brewing overhead, Ochako kept catching glimpses of children in the alleyways and cross streets.

“Who are they?” she asked, unable to help herself.

“My sister and I,” answered Tempest, brusquely. Ochako, watching the back of the woman’s head, saw her twitch slightly towards one of the alleys. “About the time we were taken.”

“Taken by who?” asked Todoroki.

Tempest laughed. The sound was entirely humorless. “That government you’re so eager to serve. You’ve noticed, I hope, that my sister and I aren’t completely Japanese?”

“Yes?” said Todoroki. “I’m not blind, after all.”

“Todoroki,” said Aizawa in a warning tone.

“Good for you. Our mother was Japanese. Dad was American. We went back and forth to see the family. Problem was, everyone on Mom’s side quirks. We didn’t even realize it. The government tracked the weather disturbances to our movements and raided our family reunion. Never saw my parents again. Never saw anyone, for that matter, except my sister and my aunt – Dad’s side – who tried to smuggle us out and got shot for it. We spent four years in that hell before Ryuji rescued us.”

“You’re more open about this than I would have expected,” said Aizawa.

Tempest sneered. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m a terrorist, and people only become terrorists if they want to make a statement. Which I did. Trust me when I say this, Nine, if the hero commission took you into ‘custody,’” she spat the word like it was dirty, “you’d be in the same boat. What do you children think they do to all those high-profile criminals in Tartarus? The ones that are held indefinitely in a private prison without even a show trial?”

“I know, Three,” said Izuku, far more calmly that Ochako would have been able to. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to be a hero. It’s easier to change systems from the inside.”

“Not this system.”

“No,” said Izuku, “but then I had no idea this part of the system even existed. They do a lot to hide it, after all.”

“Hm,” grunted Tempest, skeptically.

The buildings began to thin out, interspersed with wilderness. The road rapidly graded narrowed into a one-lane road, then gravel.

“Is this normal?” asked Ochako.

“We have more control over our environments than the other ones. You’ve noticed that only Eight and Nine had multiple versions of themselves running around and being confusing.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” said Izuku.

“Exactly. Any of us could send an army of ourselves against you. Only those two don’t have a choice about it. Amateurs.”

“Shouldn’t they have had the same amount of time as—” started Ochako. She broke off as a series of concrete walls topped with barbed wire rose up in front of them, scraping at the surrounding trees, shedding clumps of dirt.

The trees fell away, leaving a clear, baren space between the walls and the trees. Slightly beyond the structure moonlight glinted off the surface of a lake.

“Well. Welcome to Jinoshi Lake Camp, kids.” Tempest turned, putting her hands on her hips. “This is where I met Ryuji. And…” She glanced up at the walls. “This is as far as I go.”

“You aren’t going to show us where to find this ‘Ryuji?’” asked Aizawa.

“I promised myself I’d never go back there.” She jerked her head over her shoulder. “I’m not revisiting it for you.” She started walking away. “Have fun.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #my fic #long night in the valley

58 notes · View notes

hqbbg · 4 years ago

Text

dense.

pairing: iwaizumi x reader

summary: you’re dense and iwaizumi is stubborn.

genre: fluff

word count: 2.0K

warnings: language

author’s note: idk why but i've been simping for this mans all week (actually nvm i do know why,, like who wouldn’t) but also it’s late at night and idk what this is but pls accept and enjoy it 👉🏼👈🏼👉🏼👈🏼

Your mother had always told you it was rude to stare and throughout your childhood, you did your best to avoid getting scolded at for staring at random people. However, while sitting at a café in an attempt to study, you can’t help but shift your focus from the notes in front of you to the boy sitting a few tables away, chewing on the eraser of his pencil as he leans over his notebook, looking deep in thought. You have your cheek pressed against your left palm, your elbow propped up on the table and your pencil not even in your hand anymore as you shamelessly stare at the stranger.

He’s sitting in your direct line of sight ahead of you and you’re sure that you’re also in his, but he has yet to notice or acknowledge you. He looks smart—or at least is trying to be—as he releases the end of his pencil from his teeth to scribble something down onto his notebook.

His eyes flicker up in your direction and you quickly avert your eyes back down to your notebook but keep your head in the same angle in order to avoid looking suspicious. You pretend to be deep in thought for a moment before your eyes make their way back to look at the handsome stranger in front of you, his own attention devoted to whatever it is he’s studying.

You’re not even sure how much time has passed before you feel someone flick the back of your head, causing you to wince and angrily turn to see the person responsible for the subtle throbbing you feel now.

“Ow, that hurt, Iwaizumi,” you frown as you rub the back of your head.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes as he sits down across from you, effectively blocking the view. He places your coffee down in front of you and takes a sip of his own, raising a brow as he looks at your notes.

“You’ve barely made any progress.”

“I was taking a study break,” you reply as you drop your hand from your head.

“Study break my ass,” he scoffs. “You’ve been staring at that guy since I left to go stand in line for your coffee—you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you mutter as you lift the cup to your face and inhale the fragrant smell of coffee, taking a sip shortly after. “Also, can you blame me? He’s really cute.”

Iwaizumi looks at you and you swear that you see his eye twitch slightly.

“Your exam score is not going to be cute if you don’t focus now, you know,” he says as he sets his cup down, leaning back in his seat as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“I know,” you sigh as you pick your pencil back up. “I can’t focus, though.”

“We’ve been here for half an hour. Have you even tried?” Iwaizumi raises an unimpressed brow.

“Of course I have,” you huff indignantly. “It only took me ten minutes to get all my stuff out and then five more minutes to use the bathroom. I tried to study for at least five more minutes before I got distracted.”

“Well, now that I’m here, you shouldn’t have any distractions,” says Iwaizumi as his lips quirk up into the slightest smirk. You sigh dramatically but know that there’s nothing you can do.

His method of forcing you to at least try to study is affective for some time, but the content of your notes is utterly dry and quite frankly, you’re bored.

“You didn’t have to come today,” you say casually. You’ve been searching for an excuse to not study for the past few minutes, and this seems to be the only thing you can come up with.

Iwaizumi looks up from his phone for a moment before looking back down, his thumb scrolling through whatever app he’s on.

“Who else is supposed to keep you focused? Plus, it’s not like I had anything better to do today.”

You blink a couple times at him but say nothing.

Iwaizumi has slowly and steadily been spending more time with you lately, keeping you company practically anywhere and everywhere you went. You didn’t mind necessarily, since you two get along aside from the occasional bullying you both inflict upon each other which is all in good fun. Plus, he’s pretty easy on the eyes, so you have no complaints there.

You’d known him for quite some time now but can’t remember when exactly you two had become friends. You remember seeing him when you were both in high school, with you as a faithful supporter of your school’s boys’ volleyball team while he was part of the opposing school’s team, practically glued to his much more popular friend—what was his name? It started with an O…—and was always overshadowed by him. You didn’t see him much again until you came to college and recognized him in one of your classes. Over time, you seemed to naturally gravitate towards each other and have gotten to where you are now a whole year later.

“I really can’t focus,” you huff as you set your pencil down, leaning back into your seat with a slouch. If your mother saw you right now, she would probably scold you for your posture.

“We’ve been here for barely an entire hour,” says Iwaizumi, looking up from his phone again.

“It’s just one of those days, you know? Maybe I can try studying later tonight or something, but bottom line is that I can’t be productive right now.”

“Fine. What do you want to do instead?” Iwaizumi puts his phone down and looks plainly at you.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far,” you say to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear. “Well, I guess for starters, can you scoot over to the side a little?”

“No,” Iwaizumi says without missing a beat.

“Aw, come on,” you whine. You know it’s childish and are very aware that it bothers Iwaizumi when you’re like this, so you do it a little more to egg him on. “If the situation was switched and a pretty girl was behind me, I’d gladly move to the side for you!”

“If you want to look at some guy so bad, just look at me.”

You want to protest but a different idea comes to mind.

“Fine,” you say and lean forward to prop both elbows onto the table in front of you, cupping your own face as you stare at him.

Iwaizumi looks at you questioningly, his eyebrows furrowed but you notice the slightest tint in his face to betray the unimpressed expression on his face.

“You look like a dumbass,” he says, not looking you in the eye as you blink innocently at him.

“You know, after all this time, I think I just realized your eyes are kinda green,” you say, ignoring his statement.

“How long are you going to keep this up?” Iwaizumi also doesn’t seem to have a problem ignoring your statements.

“Keep what up?” You can’t help but smile smugly at him.

Iwaizumi inhales deeply before he also leans forward to mirror your position, his face dangerously close to yours. You never realized how small the table between the two of you was and now it’s your turn to blush.

“I can sit here all day like this if you want,” he teases, a confident smirk plastered on his face. He still can’t meet your eyes for too long before he has to look away, but you don’t mind because suddenly, you are also having trouble maintaining eye contact with him.

“Maybe not all day,” you say, doing your best to not look fazed by any of this. You’re also feeling very aware of how the two of you must look to other onlookers and can’t help but feel the embarrassment heat your face up even more.

“You can always give up first,” he taunts, maintaining his smirk.

You internally curse his stubborn resolve and the fact that you are able to match it, refusing to give up first.

“The more I look at them, the prettier your eyes seem to be,” you decide to use a different approach in getting him to give up first.

“That’s not going to work on me,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

“Wow, do people just tell you that all the time then? Must be nice.”

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice,” he retorts.

“Clearly, I’m not the most observant person in the world,” you push your lower lip out just the slightest bit to form a small pout. The flicker of his eyes to your lips does not escape you.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says. “Something can be painfully obvious and in front of you and you still wouldn’t notice because you’re just that dense.”

“Pfft, notice something like what?” You frown, furrowing your eyebrows. Sure, sometimes you were a little clueless, but you didn’t go as far as to consider yourself dense.

“Like a test or quiz answer—”

“Lame. Everyone misses things like that from time to time,” you scoff.

“—or if someone likes you.”

“Well, someone has to like me in order for me to notice that kind of stuff,” you retort back.

“You’re literally not seeing it right now and it’s right in front of you,” Iwaizumi frowns, unable to look you in the eye.

You feel like you’re catching onto what he’s saying now but decide once more to give him a hard time just to confirm your thoughts.

“Wait, do you think the guy behind you is into me then?”

You see the irritation on Iwaizumi’s face and do your best to not laugh.

“Forget I even said anything,” he scowls as his eyes fix onto something behind you.

“If I’m dense, then maybe you can just enlighten me,” you say, your eyes searching his face for any signs that he might be upset with you, just in case. He just seems a little dejected.

“There’s no point,” Iwaizumi sighs. “Maybe the guy behind me can tell you for me.”

“Wait, I was just teasing you,” you pout your lips slightly again leaning to the side to get into his view. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings or anything. “Just tell me.”

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he grumbles as he looks away from you again.

“You can tell me anything, Iwaizumi,” you say, removing one hand from your face to reach over and poke his arm. Sometimes you forget how toned and solid his arms are.

“You’re just giving me a hard time now, aren’t you?” Iwaizumi looks at you skeptically and you can’t resist the small grin on your face. “You’re a crappy person, you know that?”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you whine, your grin leaving your lips as quickly as it came. “You still haven’t told me.”

“Should I spell it out for you?”

“If that’s the method you choose, I won’t stop you,” you shrug as you bring your hand back to cup your face. Iwaizumi gives you a look, unamused.

“I like you.”

Your hunch is confirmed but hearing it out loud from him makes you feel different.

“Can you say that again?”

“No,” Iwaizumi frowns as he relents, dropping his arms and leaning back, looking away from you. You can see his cheeks and ears are reddening by the second and can’t resist the smile on your face.

“I guess I am pretty dense when it comes to that stuff,” you say as you also drop your arms and sit up straight. “On a serious note, can I have some time to process that?”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi nods as he grabs his coffee cup, getting ready to stand. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” You look at him with curious eyes.

“Do you not want me to leave you alone?”

“No,” you shake your head. “If anything, can you just tell me again? I want to make sure I heard you right the first time.”

“You really are a crappy person,” Iwaizumi says, but you can see the small smile on his lips. “You would’ve gotten along well with my friend Oikawa.”

“Ah! That’s his name!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader #iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #hq x reader #hq x you #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi imagine #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff

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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

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Gifts From the Heart (Soft!Ojiro x Wolf!Reader)

Art credit: Pixiv ID 4177162

Requested by anon: Saw the word Ojiro, came running. Can I request fluffy, wholesome Ojiro x Fem!Reader where Ojiro makes the reader a gift?

A/N: This is a chapter from my unpublished Ojiro x reader book that will be uploaded all at once very soon xD. Stay tuned!! there needs to be more ojiro content out there, this boy is so underrated

[anon, i got so carried away the full fanfic is at 50k words and its climbing im so sorry it took me so long to post what you requested, it spurred on my creativity and now i have a fanfic sitting in my docs waiting to be shown to the world lol]

✨Edit: this is part 10 of Ojiro’s fanfic series titled “Saving Her”. Masterlist for it found here!! ✨

Words: 3.8k

It was a lazy Sunday and everyone was lounging around the Heights Alliance dormitory. Aoyama was sitting at one of the tables with Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka, serving hors d’oeuvres.

It made a great accompaniment to Yaoyorozu’s herbal tea.

Ojiro gathered what he would need in order to make you your gift. It was almost done, but it was missing a few key finishing touches.

Throughout the time you had spent with them, he had found himself growing more and more attached to you and given your past, he wanted to show you just how much you were welcome here.

Alright, maybe it was a little bit more than that. Maybe it was more along the lines of wanting to confess to you badly, but if he went in with that idea, he was sure he would get rejected. Not to mention, he lacked the courage.

He had roped in the assistance of Yaoyorozu and Hagakure. They were the only ones who knew of his feelings and his plan for your gift, but they roped in the rest of the girls to keep you distracted while he put his plan into motion.

He had been surprised when Hagakure suggested it to him, since he wasn’t able to get you anything from that day at the mall when you all went. You didn’t want anything but what once was bewildering gave him an idea for your next present.

He was the only one who hadn’t gotten you anything, desperately wanting it to be perfect before he gave it to you.

His lack of creativity was soon solved by one simple thing as his eyes fell on what you had discarded on his bed the day before.

While you were distracted by the girls upstairs, he got to work. Pushing up his sleeves alongside Sato and Koda, he started to prepare what he needed.

Meanwhile, you were having a blast.

Yaoyorozu was teaching you how to braid your own hair so it wouldn’t get in the way and so that your fluffy ears would be shown off and not hidden. You and Asui were talking about the upcoming week where they were going to get trained for the provisional licensing exam. Since you were so new, you wouldn’t be able to take it at the same time as everyone else but that didn’t deter you.

If anything, you were even more pumped to catch up to them.

Things had been rough. You had narrowly escaped a bad situation only for Ojiro to save you. Since then, things had started to snowball one after another, but in the best way possible. Aizawa had arranged a temporary agreement with Principal Nezu concerning your enrollment into UA which also enabled you to stay at the dorms.

But what once was supposed to be temporary solidified into a permanent situation as Aizawa adopted you and now you were hoping that they would let you stay.

Overtime, you had grown close to all of them. The paperwork had all been filled out but you were nervous if they would all really be okay with letting you join their ranks. You just had to ask your fellow classmates if they would accept you.

Orjio had been particularly nice to you, taking you under his wing and letting you explore your new surroundings with a safety net that he provided.

You gulped. Just thinking about him made your heart flutter and tail wag.

“Oooo, Y/N’s thinking about him again.” Ashido teased, sidling over to you from her closet to where you were sitting on the floor by the window.

“Huh?” You blinked, your fluffy ears twitching. “Who?”

Uraraka swatted your arm playfully, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Oh come on!! You don’t expect us to fall for that again after all this time!! Who do you take us for?!”

You flushed, gaze dropping into your lap where your hands were folded neatly. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Trailing off with a nervous mumble, you fiddled with your tail as Yaoyorozu shot you an empathetic smile.

“It’s alright, Y/N-chan,” She reassured kindly. “You don’t have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“But Yao-Momo!!” Ashido pouted. “She was about to admit her feelings for him!!”

“No I wasn’t!!” You protested, then clapped a hand over your mouth but it was too late.

The damage had been done.

Squeals burst out all around you and you had the sudden urge to take refuge in your room, no longer wanting to be a part of this humiliating conversation.

“How long?!” Ashido shrieked in your ear, tugging on your arm, wanting to know the exact time it started.

“I don’t know!!” You cried out, burying your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed.

Uraraka and Hagakure let out a gasp at your indirect confession but squealed excitedly as realization finally hit them.

“You guys would be so cute together!!” Hagakure gushed.

Uraraka’s eyes crinkled up joyously. “Aww!! I can already picture them out on their first date!!”

“Guys, give her space to breathe.” Jirou said, rolling her eyes at her overexcited friends as she freed you from their grasp.

Yaoyorozu seconded that, even though she was equally as excited as her friends at this new information.

“I didn’t know you had feelings for Ojiro-san.” She lightly teased with a soft smile on her face, patting your back like an older sister would.

“I don’t!!” You denied but winced at the collective glare that was thrown your way. “... Maybe…”

Ashido sprang up to her feet. “She’s totally crushing on him!!”

You grabbed onto her arm to prevent her from leaving the room, finding Ojiro and outing your secret. “No I’m not!!”

“Are too!!”

“Am not!!”

“ARE TOO!!!!!”

“NO!!!!”

The both of you fell back on top of the bed, bouncing a couple of times on the mattress as the other girls forced the two of you to sit down.

Even Asui seemed on board.

“I think you would be able to make him very happy, kero.” She relayed, a finger resting on her chin. “He already thinks very highly of you.”

You couldn’t help but blush at that, wiggling around uncomfortably as your heartbeat echoed loudly in your ears.

“W-What…?”

Hagakure shoved your shoulder and you nearly toppled over, not expecting her to do that.

“Y/N!!” She chastised, wagging a finger at you. “You can’t be serious!! Haven’t you noticed it?!”

You were lost. “Noticed what??”

“Oh dear.” Yaoyorozu commented, gazing at you sympathetically.

“Someone tell her or else I’m going to explode!!!” Ashido shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

You opened your mouth to ask just what was going on when the door suddenly opened and everybody fell silent.

Todoroki didn’t do or say anything. He simply inclined his head to the side and the girls who were so docile for a few seconds burst into action.

You weren’t sure exactly what happened but within the next minute, you were being shoved outside and hastily instructed to go downstairs in exactly five minutes while they all raced out, Ashido dragging a reluctant Todoroki along with them.

Since you left your phone back in Ojiro’s room and you didn’t want to be rude and barge in just to get it, you stayed outside in the hallway, counting the seconds that passed until five minutes had passed.

You lagged behind, not really sure what to expect. They had never acted like this around you before.

Maybe Aizawa had told them of your permanent stay at Heights Alliance and they were all against it.

But that didn’t make much sense since they went to such lengths to be so friendly and open with.

Shaking your head to clear the muddled thoughts, you continued on down the staircase until you reached the first floor.

When you arrived, it was dark. All the lights were turned off, which was strange because you vividly recalled Iida saying something about how important it was to keep the lights on 24/7 so that none of the students tripped or anything.

Mostly for your benefit since you tended to trip over air.

Claws sliding out, you narrowed your eyes, baring your canines threatening as you scanned for any signs of movement.

Putting into the play the training Aizawa had taught you, you crouched low to the ground, slinking along the abandoned corridor.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you crept around the corner, coming to halt just before the common room.

Here goes nothing.

You stepped out.

Then, several things happened at once.

You were blinded as the lights suddenly flashed on and you shrieked, jumping on the nearest person out of instinct.

“What the fuck, dumbass!!!” Bakugou raged as he caught you when you tunneled into him.

You squeaked frightfully, backpedaling until you were a sufficient distance away from the group of twenty now standing in front of you, clearly seeing them for the first time.

“I told you she would get scared!!” Jirou chastised, smacking the sheepish-looking pikachu on the head.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would be fine!!” Kaminari argued back, gripping his head in pain. “Ow!! That hurts!!”

“Serves you right!!” She snapped back.

You retracted your claws, reverting back to the adorable wolf that they all knew and loved now that you realized there wasn’t any threat. Your ears perked up and your lips curled into a smile of disbelief.

Beaming happily as Ashido smothered you in a hug, you blinked back tears as your eyes fell on the banner that said, “Welcome Home!!!”, in bright lettering above the entire class of 1-A.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. “You guys did all of this for me?”

Uraraka gestured to the pile of presents behind Shoji and Tokoyami.

“It was Ojiro-kun’s idea for the presents and Hagakure’s for a party.” She told you cheekily, pointing to the embarrassed boy hiding behind the counter to make himself appear smaller. “We just all pitched in to help.”

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me…” You said softly, in awe and vastly overwhelmed.

“You’re staying with us from now on.” Todoroki quipped plainly from the back row. “This was in order.”

Hagakure rushed over to you. “Do you like it?! Are you surprised?!”

You nodded and squeezed her tightly, thanking her before making your way over to Ojiro, who had yet to acknowledge you. At least, with words.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, completely under your spell as you padded over to him.

Blushing, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, then cursed yourself for doing something so embarrassing in front of your long-time crush.

“Mashirao?” You said curiously, noticing his arms were hidden behind his back.

Man, he was never going to get tired of hearing your sweet voice saying his name in such an intimate way.

Winding his tail around your waist, he tugged you closer until you fell into his chest. You shivered as you felt one of his arms snake around you, as if shielding you from the people who were crowding around you.

Your face burned and you were thankful it was hidden from all of your classmates as they ‘awwed’ at the two of you. Vaguely, you heard someone slyly note how cute the two of you were and you swore, feeling more self-conscious than ever.

You didn’t get a chance to wiggle out of his hold to smack Ashido on the head for her comment since Ojiro decided to give you what was behind his back.

It was a small, carefully wrapped gift box, not impressive on the outside by any means, but your eyes sparkled and your heart skipped a beat.

Seeing the expression on your face, his shoulders shook with laughter. Your eyes were shining in excitement at seeing his present as opposed to all the other ones that were much larger than his.

He strangely felt touched by it.

You placed it on the kitchen island, running your fingers over the velvet bow and pretty gift wrap. You almost didn’t want to ruin it.

“Oh come on,” Ashido squealed in frustration the longer you prolonged it and everyone else crowded around you. “Open it already!!”

You shot her a playful glare, taking your time despite the many groans that sounded around you as you carefully unwrapped the neatly decorated box. By the time you finally finished taking off all the wrapping paper, everyone, even Bakugou, was leaning forward in anticipation.

Taking off the lid so that it covered whatever was in the box from their prying eyes, even though there were several loud protests, your eyes widened as you saw what was nestled inside several layers of crinkled paper.

Reaching in eagerly, you pulled it out and held it up.

It was a lion plushie. A beautifully crafted, complete with whiskers and a fluffy mane, stuffed lion. And you already adored it.

There were some disappointed complaints that his present didn’t live up to the hype they were expected to believe, but Ojiro didn’t hear them, only having eyes for you. As they started to disperse throughout the living room, you couldn’t tear your gaze from the cute lion.

“I seem to recall someone getting ahold of the giraffe in my room.” Ojiro teased with a knowing smile. “You seemed to like to have something to hold onto at night, so I figured another stuffed animal couldn’t hurt, right?”

Your ears swiveled happily as you heard him say that and you couldn’t refrain from bouncing in place, tail swishing behind you.

“It was so long ago, I would’ve thought you had forgotten by now.” You beamed, smiling from ear to ear as you tested out its squishiness. “Where in the world did you get this?! It’s so plushy!!”

When he didn’t answer you right away, you paused your shower of adoration over the beloved lion, tilting your head curiously at Ojiro, who was now bright red and mumbling something under his breath.

“Huh?” You squeaked, unsure if you really heard him right.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, grinning at you sheepishly. “Well, it’s just— The stores didn’t really have any lions that looked cute enough when I took my sister to the mall and that’s when she suggested making one for you.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor.

“I remember you saying that you liked lions because… well, you said they reminded you of me so I really wanted to get you a lion.” Ojiro continued, not noticing your reaction, too caught up in his rambling.

You had told him one night after playing with his tail to calm you down after you had a nightmare and he hadn’t forgotten it since.

“Holly-chan helped me sew it, I got the materials from Aizawa-sensei and Shoji helped me attach the tail and the mane and everything else.” He told you, pointing out all of the features that were carefully crafted together with the utmost love.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He hesitated, now picking up on the fact that you had yet to say anything. “Is… Do you like it?”

You would’ve punched him for his obliviousness if it weren’t for the fact that you didn’t want to let your lion go in order to do so. “Are you kidding?! I love it!!”

Ojiro’s chest deflated as he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, thank All Might.”

“You could’ve done this in private, you know.” You lightly teased, brushing your fingers over the soft material in awe. “I’m sure it would’ve been less stressful for you.”

He made it for you. You’ve never had anyone buy anything for you for the longest time, let alone make something for you with their own two hands. The time and energy it must’ve taken, not to mention the thought he put into it.

That was it. You were going to explode with happiness.

“I was going to.” He said, shooting a look over your shoulder at a satisfied Shoji and a smug Tokoyami gazing at you from the sidelines while everyone else wrecked havoc on the common floor. “But everybody kind of wanted to see what it was. And your reaction.”

You giggled, hugging it tightly to your chest. “Thank you, I love it, Mashirao.”

He kissed your forehead, murmuring, “I’m really glad you do, Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you bit your lip to stop your smile from getting too wide. It was too much. You felt like you were going to burst.

“Y/N?” Ojiro asked worriedly, cupping your chin and furrowed his eyebrows. “Your face is all red.”

“Dummy!!” You pouted, pushing him away and clutching the lion plushie tighter. “It’s your fault, you know!!”

He chuckled, patting your head. Your lashes fluttered shut at the stimulation, throaty growl emitting in approval at the affectionate gesture.

Ojiro’s gaze softened, brimming with love. He couldn’t believe how far you came from being that shy, wary girl back then.

You raised the stuffed animal up, tapping it on its nose. “Your name will be Koko!!”

Squeezing it tightly to your chest, you rocked back and forth on your heels, gazing at it with adoring eyes when you held it up.

Ojiro’s heart melted at seeing you so happy.

Your other friends insisted that you open their gifts next, nearly dragging you over the table. Everyone had given you something, even Bakugou.

You objected to their generosity, protesting that they spent too much on you already the first time around but it was like all of them went deaf and ignored your objections, shoving box after box in your hands.

Sato had made sure to have enough food on hand for moments exactly like these, when everybody got swept up in the energy of it all and were literally bouncing off the walls.

Somehow, somewhere, Aizawa was found and dragged out of his cave to join his students in the party. But he mostly was out of the way, watching from afar as you were handed gift after gift.

Aoyama had gotten ahold of a painted tea set that looked very fragile and it was paired with Yaoyorozu’s jasmine tea she had gifted you.

It took a couple of turns for you to realize that they had collaborated when giving you things.

Sato’s cookbook filled with a couple of his own added recipes he knew you loved went with the polished pots and pans Shoji gave you. Tokoyami and Asui’s were combined into a patterned quilt that everyone had pitched in to help with.

The two tickets you got for the autumn festival stumped you but that mystery was soon cleared up when Todoroki gave you what looked to be an extremely expensive, embroidered kimono.

“When you two finally go on a date.” He said monotonously, pointing a finger at Midoriya and Jirou. “They said that you two will have to confess first, though.”

Your jaw dropped and you and Ojiro both turned opposite ways, unable to look each other in the eye in case that claim wasn’t true.

You had to physically push Ashido and Hagakure away when they made kissing sounds at you, embarrassed beyond belief.

Ojiro had to fight to keep Shoji at bay but his friend was much stronger than him and the tailed teenager ended up losing his balance and careened into you.

You yelped as your face ended up right in front of his, a millimeter away. Breath catching in your throat, your heart stopped and he audibly gulped at your proximity.

Neither one of you moved.

It wasn’t until you shakily held up the tickets Kirishima had given you did he blink.

“Would…” You swallowed hard, gathering your courage. “Would you like to go with me?”

Ojiro didn’t even think of saying no.

A huge smile broke out on your face as he said yes and you covered your face with your hands as Uraraka and Ashido squealed, instantly hiding into Ojiro’s chest out of instinct.

He didn’t mind but the heat that was creeping up his neck turned into a full-fledged blush as he hugged you, keeping you close even after Shoji and Tokoyami sent him a pointed glance.

Mouthing for them to mind their own business, he held you until you collected yourself enough to face them. Even then, he kept you seated on his lap, running his fingers through your fluffy tail as you opened the rest of your gifts.

He knew you were going to cry by the end of the night, most likely when the two of you were alone, but he couldn’t help but agree with everything that his classmates had thought of for you.

You had been without love for so long that when you saw it, you didn’t know what to do. He would take every opportunity to show you how much you meant to him and how precious your life was.

After hours of playing video games, eating Sato’s delicious cooking and getting caught up in Kaminari’s schemes as he tried to push you and Ojiro together not-so-discreetly before Jirou bonked him on the head, you were so tired you felt like you could fall asleep standing up.

Aizawa had left a while ago, once Bakugou destroyed the TV remote, lacking the energy to deal with his students outside of the classroom.

You had run up to him, begging cutely for a hug and he hesitated but didn’t refuse you.

Everyone except for Ojiro’s jaws dropped as you called him dad so nonchalantly but they were even more shocked when Aizawa simply ruffled your hair and told you not to stay up too late.

You had made your way back into Ojiro’s arms as soon as the older man left his student to their craziness, and you tumbled onto an empty sofa with him cushioning your fall.

He smiled at you fondly, eyes softening as he swept the hair away from your eyes, his heart stopping as you nuzzled into his chest.

“Princess…” He murmured, tucking a lock behind your ear, as he had seen you do earlier. “Are you happy?”

A smile curled against his neck.

“Mmhm…” You hummed happily. “Thank you, Mashirao.”

For the rest of the night, you didn’t let go of the stuffed lion he gave you once, eventually falling asleep on the couch with your new present tucked safely in your arms.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you once as he used his tail to pull a blanket over the both of you.

“Anything for you, Y/N.”

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years ago

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A Cup of Something Better

Chapter 14: Lessons in Misreading the Room

Hank had been right, he had been worrying too much about his nurse’s exam. It was easer than he was expecting it to be, now he just had to wait a week for the results to be posted. He knew it would be a while before they were posted, but he was still checking his phone pretty regularly despite only having finished the exam the day before. “Alright, give me that.” Hank said and held his hand out across the table. His tone was stern but his expression was general, “We’re here to celebrate you finishing your nurses exam not to sit and worry about the results.” “Right.” He locked his phone and put it away, opting for his bag instead of his pocket. “ I know the results won’t be posted yet, but I keep thinking that I’m going to get a message that I failed.” “Connor.” Hank put his hand over his and squeezed it, “You didn’t fail, not with how much time you took to prepare. I know you’re worried because this one decides a lot for you, but you also said that it wasn’t as difficult as you had thought. That was because you were ready for it. There’s not a doubt in my mind that you passed, so just relax.” “Have you met me Hank?” Connor half joked and Hank rolled his eyes. “A tall order, I know.” Hank said dryly. “But seriously Connor, take some time to catch your breath. It will be fine I promise.”

Connor sighed and changed gears as best he could although his worry was still gnawing at him, “So how are the manuscripts coming?” Hank barked out a laugh, “Wow, I tell you to relax and you attack me.” He let go of Connor’s hand and he was tempted to chase it, “They’re going, and I’m a bit stuck on them both if I’m honest.” Connor laughed as well, “I was only trying to make conversation.” Hank rolled his eyes and took a drink from his latte. Connor reached for his own and found it empty so he stood up. “I’m going to get another coffee. Do you want one as well?” He asked. “Yes please.” Hank replied, “Mind ordering them to go? There’s more I wanted to do today to celebrate.” “Alright.” Connor agreed and did what he could to keep the suspicion out of his voice, “Meet you at the car then?” “Sure.” Hank responded and Connor made his way to the short line after he made sure he had his wallet. Hank had this day planned for when he had finished his semester finals, but since Connor had basically been an overly emotional pile of jello when they had ended, they moved it to after his nurse’s exam. Now that it had passed there was no more putting it off. He had no reason to be nervous, yet he was.

Hank wasn’t his professor anymore, the only thing he really had to worry about was Ezra, but she wasn’t any of his business. Yet he still found himself anxious. What if he was reading too much into this? What if Hank only saw him as a friend? He shook his head to clear away those thoughts. They were celebrating today, the very least he could do was try and enjoy it. He stepped up to the counter and immediately wished he had asked Hank>” to get the coffee. North was working the counter and Josh was working the bar. They were both going to give him shit, they always did. Save for the new girl, all of his coworkers were under the impression that Hank was interested in him. They were only friends, and that seemed to be how it was going to stay. “Taking the date on the road?” North asked in way of a greeting, “To go refills I’m guessing.” Connor rolled his eyes, “Its not a date North, but yeah, We’re heading out.” “He held your hand for like a whole minute.” She pushed as he handed her the cash. “I was panicking over my exam. It didn’t mean anything.” He pushed back. “Did you want it to?” She asked and Connor hesitated. “That doesn’t matter.” Connor replied as he moved to the other counter. He could wish it to have meant something all he liked, but it wouldn’t change the fact that it hadn’t. Hank was just friendly like that. There was nothing more to it unfortunately.

Josh seemed to be better at reading the atmosphere than North had been because when he handed Connor the drinks he didn’t have much to say. “Tell Hank hello when you see him; and Connor, relax you did fine. I’m sure.” Connor gave a nod and lifted one of the cups in place of a wave as he left. He didn’t know what they were seeing from Hank that was making him think that he was interested in Connor. They were only friends, and Hank didn’t really seem interested in him as it was so he planned to leave it alone. He walked around the corner into the side lot where Hank had said he was parked. Hank smiled when he saw him but it quickly turned into a look of concern soon after. “You alright Con? You look like someone intentionally gave you decaf.” Hank said as Connor handed him his drink. “North was being her usual pleasant self.” Connor said flatly, “Also Josh says hello.” “Hello to Josh then.” Hank remarked as Connor made his way to the passenger’s side of the car, “Ready to head back to the house?” “Yeah, my dog has apparently missed me.” Connor joked as he got into the old beat up car. “Your dog?” Hank said with mock offense as he started the car, “You’ve only spent one weekend with him.”

“It was love at first sight Hank, I’m telling you.” He laughed and Hank joined him as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You let him onto the couch didn’t you?” Hank said with mock accusation to his voice. “How dare you suggest such a thing.” Connor replied placing a hand over his heart like he had been personally offended, “I obeyed all of the rules.” “Which is exactly why my massive fucking Saint Bernard has decided to become a four legged tripping hazard every time I set foot in my kitchen.” Hank pressed with a slight smile. “So I might have fed him a little.” Connor admitted and Hank quirked a brow, “At each meal.” Hank shook his head and chuckled, “Only you would give in.” “I’m weak okay?” Connor laughed. Connor found himself in a good mood again. It seemed easy for Hank, both to notice when he was caught in his own head as well as get him out of it. A crack of a joke or a simple conversation and Connor felt fine again. He knew why, it was because he liked Hank. He had fallen for the first man to show him kindness as he always did. He had plans to keep it to himself though. Hank had enough going on without having to pry one of his former students off of himself. Instead Connor would treasure the days like this and the times he would get to see Hank at the cafe.

“You’re pulling away from me again.” Hank said as he pulled himself into the driveway, “Is the exam really bothering you that much?” “Ah, no. I was just thinking.” Connor replied. It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Hank eyed him skeptically, but didn’t push it much to Connor’s relief. “I’m here if you want to share, but for now we should probably head inside before Sumo breaks the door down.” Connor laughed and opened his door, “That’s a good plan.” When they got closer to the door Connor could hear Sumo’s excited barking from inside. Connor found himself smiling as Hank opened the door. “Get back you big lug. He can’t pet you if he can’t get into the fucking house.” Hank gruffed and Connor heard the effort that went into moving Sumo away from the door. Connor barely set foot in the house when he was knocked back against the door by an overly excited Sumo, “Hey buddy, I told you I would be back soon.” He said as he pet Sumo who’s head was nearly level with his own given that Sumo was standing on his hind legs. He licked a wet stripe up Connor’s face and he laughed, “Yes, I missed you too, I promise.”

“Sumo, get down.” Hank said firmly, and Sumo hesitated for a moment before he obeyed. Connor straightened his clothes out of habit and then stepped out of his shoes. Sumo didn’t let him get too far out of his sight and Connor pet him near constantly. “I have never seen him so excited to see someone again.” Hank said as they settled onto the couch, “Normally he sticks to me like glue, this feels almost like betrayal.” Sumo was sitting in front of the couch with his front paws and head in Connor’s lap. He smiled at Hank, “I suppose its because he knows who the softer touch is.” “That’s a word for it.” Hank laughed, “So are we going to try and catch up on House today?” “I don’t know how far we’re going to get since you said you have plans for later.” Connor replied as he reached out to pet Sumo. “We have plans for later, this is part of your surprise.” Hank said as the show started up. Connor knew better than to object and settled in as the show started up. Hank liked House for the mystery aspect and Connor liked it for the blatant medical fantasy. It was a show that they both genuinely enjoyed and enjoyed making fun of. Connor found himself laughing unexpectedly at some of Hank’s more sarcastic comments. It was more given the combination of wit and timing than finding them genuinely funny. It was a nice way to unwind as take his mind off of things. Hank was always a pleasant distraction.

A couple of hours in Hank brought two bottles of light beer over to the coffee table. Connor reached for his and took a drink and winced at the taste. He wasn’t much of a drinker usually but he always had one beer when he was with Hank. Once he got past the taste and the alcohol hit it was relaxing. It was just a matter of getting over the taste. “I forget that you don’t drink often. I could get you something different if you would like.” Hank offered as he sat down and Connor leaned forward so Hank could get comfortable before Connor leaned back against him again. “I can handle one beer Hank, I’m not that weak.” Connor said in protest despite the disgust lingering in his voice, “I just have to get used to the taste again.” Hank put his arm up over the back of the couch and hit play again, “Next time I’m out I’ll grab some wine coolers for you.” “Thanks.” Connor said as they show started up. They got another four episodes in before Hank’s phone began to ring playing a metal song Connor hadn’t heard before. He jumped and wound up setting his beer bottle down with more force than he intended to as Hank swore under his breath and scrambled to shut off the music.

“Sorry about that.” Hank said once it was quiet, “I had that set in case I fell asleep. Its time to head out so we don’t miss our reservation. Do you mind feeding Sumo while I get ready.” “Of course.” Connor said as he stood up, “Come on Sumo, its dinner time.” He coaxed the Saint Bernard into the kitchen to get him his dinner. He put him through a couple of tricks before he set the dish on the floor so he could eat. With that done he picked up the living room, threw away the beer bottles, and folded the blankets they had been under. Hank came down the hall in one of his usual loud button downs and black jeans. His hair was tied back and he had his glasses on again. Connor was not ready for that sight and swallowed thickly. What a time to have a fucking crush he supposed. “You ready to head out Con?” Hank asked. Connor swallowed again and tried to figured out how to speak, “Uh, yeah, I’m ready.” He said after a long moment. “Alright, then let’s head on out.” Hank said gesturing toward the door. Connor nodded again and made his way toward the door, put his shoes back on and reached for his jacket. Hank did the same then opened the door for Connor and they headed for the car.

Hank played jazz as they drove back into the city. They made small talk on the way but Hank didn’t seem all that inclined to tell Connor where they were going. It didn’t matter how Connor phrased the question, Hank would just give him that half smile that melted his resolve a little more and tell him that it was a surprise then change the subject. To be frank, Connor’s curiosity was killing him slowly. Connor opened his mouth to ask him again, but Hank beat him to it, “If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise. That, and we’re almost there, just be patient.” “Hank.” He groaned and the man in mention only laughed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured before he changed the subject again, “How has work been?” “Its been alright, not as busy as it is when classes are in session.” Connor responded, “We’re going to be training another new girl starting next week.” Hank nodded as he pulled into a parking garage, “Because Josh is going to start his student teaching right?” “Yup.” Connor replied as he looked around trying to get an idea of where they were, “I may have to cut back on my hours as well depending on how the nursing program treats me.” “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Hank said as he pulled into a parking place, “We’re here.”

“Are you anymore inclined to tell me what are doing?” Connor asked again. “No, but I am willing to tell you that it’s my treat.” Hank replied, “I don’t want a repeat of the last time we got coffee.” “I ask for the bill one time and you never let it go.” Connor grumbled with mock annoyance, “I was trying to be a gentleman.” “It was greatly appreciated, but this time its my turn Connor.” Hank said as he opened his door. “Thank you Hank.” Connor said as he got out as well. They walked side by side to the bank of elevators and Connor tried to guess what they were going to do. Hank had mentioned reservations so he had to assume that dinner or something similar was involved. A nice place probably considering as reservations were needed. The thought made Connor a little nervous, it seemed like a lot to do just for finishing his exams. He didn’t want to read too far into this because Hank wasn’t interested in him, but he couldn’t help but think that this felt almost like a date. Hank hit the call button, “You have a good memory, think that you can remember that we’re on the lavender level?” “Uh yeah.” Connor replied as he was pulled from his thoughts, “The lavender level, got it.” “I knew I was in good hands.” Hank said with another pleasant smile.

The elevator to the far right opened and they made their way toward it. Connor still didn’t know all of what was happening, but Hank seemed pretty excited and it was contagious and Connor found himself smiling as well. When the elevator opened on the street level they stepped out and Hank took his hand to lead him down the busy sidewalk. Connor knew it was so they wouldn’t get separated, but he still smiled and curled his fingers around Hank’s hand. He could pretend for now. They stopped at a restaurant with a name that Connor couldn’t pronounce, but it looked fancy. He hesitated at the door and Hank pulled him inside and gave him a reassuring smile. Once they were inside Hank let go of his hand and made his way to the podium. Connor looked down at his hand and then toward Hank’s back. He needed to get ahold of himself, being this emotional was unbecoming; he was better than this. “Alright Con, let’s go.” Hank’s voice broke through his thoughts. He gave a sharp nod and followed Hank and the waiter back into the restaurant. Even the atmosphere of this place seemed expensive and he felt nervous and out of place. Hank took his hand again and squeezed it. They were brought to a booth along the far wall. Hank took one side and Connor took the other. The waiter handed them their menus and excused himself.

“You look uncomfortable Connor.” Hank said once the waiter was gone. “I’ve never been somewhere this nice, its probably expensive Hank.” Connor said quietly. He felt like if he spoke too loudly everyone in the restaurant would hear him. Hank only chuckled, “Of course its a nice place. You only graduate so many times.” He said, “I wanted to celebrate. I should have checked, I’m sorry.” “Its alright Hank, I was just surprised.” Connor said and Hank rolled his eyes, “Well okay, that wasn’t the right word, I wasn’t expecting this. I thought it might be a movie or something.” “Go big or go home.” Hank laughed, “Sorry if its too much.” “Its fine, I just needed a moment to adjust.” Connor admitted, “I’m alright now.” The conversation fell away as they looked over their menus. When the waiter came back Connor ordered a drink that Silas said was good and would help him relax. It was alcoholic which caused Hank to raise an eyebrow and he ordered a Coke for himself. “I didn’t think you would order another drink after the beer this afternoon.” Hank said with a teasing smile. “You said go big or go home right?” Connor replied, “I’ll only be having the one anyway I’ve been wanting to try it.”

They ordered their food when the waiter came back with their drinks. Connor went for something cheap since his drink had been a little pricey. Hank had given him a look but didn’t say anything about it. They’d had that talk before, but old habits died hard. They talked more over dinner, plans for after he finished school, potential books, and so on. Connor felt his drink hit him about halfway through dinner and had he been a smarter man he probably would have stopped, but he was twenty-seven and didn’t have anything to lose. Dinner ended with him considerably less sober than he would have liked. He felt a bit like he was floating and when he stood his balance was practically shot. When he pitched forward Hank was quick to catch him. He pulled Connor to his chest and Connor found himself smiling. This was nice. Hank chuckled and Connor felt the sound rather than heard it, “You really are a light weight aren’t you? You’ll just spit your thoughts right out.” It took Connor a long moment to realize that he had in fact voiced his thoughts. “Sorry.” He said as he straightened up. He waited for the restaurant to stop spinning before he took a tentative step away from Hank. He kept an arm around Connor’s waist, not a tight hold but enough to keep him from losing his balance again.

The walk back to the car was an adventure. Connor knew where they were parked, but his internal compass was not in the best shape and he kept getting turned around. Hank didn’t seem to mind. They finally got back to the correct garage and into the elevator. “Do you remember where we parked or did your drink take that from you too?” Hank asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. “We’re on lavender.” Connor replied and stumbled over his words, “My drink didn’t take anything from me.” Hank moved his hand from the small of Connor’s back to take his hand as the other one hit the button for the lavender level. Even in his intoxicated state, or perhaps because of it, Connor was hyper aware of the point where they were connected like it was a grounding point. He looked over at Hank and took in his form. He was attractive. Greying blonde hair and comforting blue eyes. He was tall and broad and Connor liked that about him. Then there was his personality, the rough exterior with vibrant kindness just beneath. This was a first for Connor; liking someone rather than just the idea of being with them. It was hurt because he was certain that Hank didn’t feel the same. The hand holding and hugs aside Hank didn’t seem to be interested in having Connor as anything more than a friend. He was fine with that of course, dating a former student would probably be awkward.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a hand on his cheek. “Hey, come back to me Connor.” Hank’s voice was gentle but laced with concern. Connor came back to himself a little confused by the wetness on his cheeks, “Sorry.” “Lesson learned, too much alcohol puts you at the mercy of your thoughts.” Hank responded as he stepped out of the elevator. “Apparently.” Connor said with a wet laugh as he followed Hank into the parking garage. If he was chasing those touches again that was his own business. Hank took his hand again on the ride home and rubbed his thumb along the back of Connor’s hand. Connor’s heart cracked a little in his chest because he didn’t think that Hank knew what this was doing to him. It was intended to be comfort because he had been crying in the elevator. It was a painful act of kindness. He was slowly starting to understand Silas’s view on love. This shit fucking hurt. “What’s eating at you?” Hank asked as they pulled into the parking lot of Connor’s apartment complex, “You’ve looked miserable the entire ride back, tonight was supposed to be nice. If its something I did can you please tell me?” Connor flinched and tightened his grip on Hank’s hand, “Could we maybe talk about this inside because I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He watched the concern on Hank’s face deepen as he turned the car off, “Of course. Let’s go.” Connor felt guilty for asking this of him, but Hank had asked what was wrong and Connor wasn’t ready to say all that in a place that wasn’t his. Especially if Hank was going to get upset he wanted to be in a place he was comfortable. If he was going to be rejected he wanted it to be on his terms. Yet he still hesitated when he got out of the car. Hank had never been up to Connor’s apartment. He’d only ever dropped him off. It was easy to blame their schedules when classes had been in session, but the reality of it had been that Connor was nervous about having Hank in his space. He was keenly aware of the irony of this now, but he couldn’t lie to Hank, not after tonight. Not when it had felt so close to something that was entirely unreachable to Connor all because Hank had once been his professor. He hated it and needed to set the record straight. If only so Connor’s heart would stop reaching for something his mind understood that he couldn’t have, not yet if ever. It was after hours so he had to use his code to get into the building. He held the door open for Hank and they walked to the elevators together. Connor could almost pretend that he wasn’t about to mess up a really good thing just because alcohol was making him overly aware of his emotions.

Even though he only lived four floors up, the elevator ride felt like it took hours instead of a few minutes. The silence between them was tense and almost uncomfortable. He nearly reached out for Hank and felt a deep sharp pain when it looked like Hank almost did the same. He opened the door to his apartment and held the door open for Hank. He cleared his throat in an attempt to gather his words, “Um, make yourself at home.” Connor made his way to the kitchen to start on coffee, it was an old habit from growing up. Hank settled onto one of the bar stools, “Its a little late for coffee don’t you think Con?” “Don’t worry, its decaf.” He replied, “I wouldn’t do that to you. I mean, I know you will probably be up late anyway, but I don’t want something I did to be the reason why.” “Connor relax.” Hank said gently, “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I promise I won’t be upset. But I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Connor smiled bitterly as he handed Hank the first mug of coffee, “Please don’t make promises that you can’t keep.” One look at Hank’s shocked expression had Connor sighing quietly, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” “Did I do something wrong tonight Connor?” Hank asked as he held his mug of coffee with both hands as though he was trying to absorb its warmth. “You’ve been acting odd since the restaurant and I don’t believe all of it can be blamed on the alcohol.”

Connor nearly dropped the coffee pot as he was pouring a mug for himself. So much for having a handle on his emotions, that or Hank was better at reading him than he had thought. He took the time to finish pouring his mug before he answered. “Yes and no.” He said vaguely as he leaned against the counter mimicking the way Hank was holding his mug, “I know its not much of an answer.” He received an answering scoff from Hank and he continued, “But I think its more of how I interpret the things you do than the things you actually do.” “I don’t understand.” Hank replied. Connor sighed out his frustration and gripped his mug tighter, “I find myself particularly attached to you and I find that I tend to project those feelings onto the actions you take. I know that you don’t feel the same and having alcohol tonight was a bad plan because it blurred the lines I drew and it hurt; because tonight almost felt like you loved me too.” He wasn’t looking at Hank because he didn’t have the strength to. Which is why he missed Hank get up until he saw his large shadow fall over the counter. “Who’s to say that I don’t Connor?” “Don’t” Connor said harshly as he slammed his mug down on the counter, “Don’t do this to me. Either you do or you don’t. Please don’t make me question myself anymore than I already am.”

Hank flinched away from him at his outburst before he set his own mug down much more gently. He placed his hands on Connor’s shoulders and turned him to face him. His blue eyes were intense and the most emotional Connor had ever seen them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you question yourself.” He said gently, “I thought I was clear in my feelings; but to use your words, I find myself particularly attached to you as well.” Connor’s heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest as well as stop, “You aren’t just saying this to appease me because I’m a little drunk, right?” “As much as I believe that this should wait until you’re sober; I wouldn’t do that to you.” He replied, “I’m being honest Connor.” Connor was moving before he could think too much about it. He leaned up onto his toes and pressed his lips to Hank’s. After a small eternity, Hank returned it pressing closer to Connor. Hank tasted strongly of coffee and Connor lanced his fingers in Hank’s hair when he tried to pull away. Hank put enough space between them to speak even when Connor tried to chase the kiss. “As much as I would love to continue, this is something better for left for when you’re sober.” Hank said against his lips. “Will you stay the night?” Connor pressed. “Only if you promise to behave.” Hank replied.

“I cross my heart.” Connor said with a soft smile. Connor moved to pour out the coffee and heard they key taps of Hank’s keyboard as he did who knows what on his phone. Connor was on cloud nine and couldn’t find it in himself to ask. He set the mugs in the sink, they could be an issue for future Connor. Right now he was more concerned with finding out if Hank’s chest was as comfortable as it looked.

#A Cup of Something Better #CSB #Hankcon #dbh hank #dbh Connor #dbh fic #dbh

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