#… Honestly. I mean. Well maybe I’ll wait until next semester when I do a class that’s in python and also involves data scraping

[anthyies]

they need to make a database where you can pick character(s) and get a list of every comic they’re both/all in. someone listen to my vision

[atomicladytimetravel]

How I Met Your (Step) Mother

Chapter Three: Flashbacks

Summary: We take a trip back to the 80s to see how things started for the trio.

Word Count: 2,895

Chapter Two

Monday August 22nd, 1983

It was the first day of freshman year and Tommy was nervous. His leg bounced subconsciously as he sat waiting for the day to start. His older brother had tried to calm his nerves on the drive over, telling him that high school is no big deal and it’s not exactly how it’s portrayed on after school specials.

He glanced over when he noticed a girl he didn’t recognize sit next to him. She was very pretty. She wore a Metallica t-shirt and ripped jeans, worn black Chuck Taylors on her feet. He had been going to school with the same people since elementary school and he knew most of the people surrounding him in his home room, but he’d never seen her before.

“Hey,” he said. When she turned to look at him, he continued, “I’m Tommy. I’ve never seen you before.”

“My family just moved from Dallas,” she responded. She went back to staring at the board ahead of her.

“You got a name?” Tommy prodded. She gave him her name without looking back at him.

“Pretty name,” he said, giving her a half smile.

“Thanks, my mom gave it to me,” she deadpanned. Tommy laughed. The tiniest grin tugged at the corner her mouth. She decided he might be okay.

—————————

It didn’t take long for the two of them to begin dating. He brought her home after school one day and introduced her to his parents and older brother. Joel was as good looking as Tommy was. He was the reason Tommy broke up with her the first time.

In the second semester of freshman year, she and Joel had home economics together. He was the only other person in the class she had ever really spoken to, so she sat next to him. They talked during class and realized they have a lot in common. She laughed at his jokes and when they left class, he held the door for her.

She found Tommy in their usual spot at lunch. She attempted to kiss his cheek but he turned away. She frowned.

“What’s up?”

“Heard you were having a pretty good time with Joel,” he spat.

“What are you talking about Tommy?”

“In home ec? I heard y’all were getting pretty cozy,” he explained angrily.

“Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes. “He was the only person in class I knew so I talked to him.”

“From what I heard it was a little more than that,” he said.

“What, are you spying on me? All I did was laugh at something he said and he held the door for me when we left class. You’re acting like I fucked him in the floor or something. Jesus.”

“Well if he’s so fucking funny, you can go out with him then. I’m done.” He picked up his lunch and stomped away from her.

“Tommy, wait!” she called after him, but he ignored her. She stood there, stunned, until she felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. She made it to the bathroom before she let them fall. Unfortunately for her, Joel’s locker was right across from the bathroom and he saw her emerge, eyes puffy and red. He rushed over to see what was wrong.

“What did he do?”

“He broke up with me because someone told him you and I were getting too friendly in home ec,” she told him honestly. “He wouldn’t listen when I told him it was nothing.”

Joel was taken aback. Had he been subconsciously flirting with her? She was pretty, but she was his brother’s girlfriend - and a freshman for fuck’s sake.

“Oh fuck…I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to start anything,” he said. “I’ll talk to him, maybe I can fix it.”

“It’s not your fault, I’m the one that sat next to you. You would think it would be good that we get along but I guess not.”

She was sulking in her room when the phone rang. She ignored it, thinking it would be for her mom or dad. Her mom called up the stairs that it was for her. She rolled over and picked up the receiver from the phone on her nightstand.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hey…,” Tommy’s voice came through, sheepish and apologetic.

“What?” she huffed.

“I’m sorry. Joel told me what happened and said if I ever made you cry again he would kick my ass,” he said.

“You should’ve believed me when I told you there was nothing going on,” she pointed out. “You have to trust me. Yeah, me and Joel get along but that’s about it.”

“I know, I’m an idiot,” he sighed. She smiled.

“You’re forgiven,” she giggled.

Friday September 14th, 1984

“Tommy Miller, you unbelievable asshole!”

They were at a party they most definitely shouldn’t have been attending. Most of the kids were seniors, but a few underclassmen had been invited. Tommy had gotten drunk for the first time and she had just found him in someone’s bedroom with Tiffany Anderson, a cheerleader who was always subtly flirting with Tommy.

She slammed the door and ran downstairs to find a phone. She couldn’t call her parents, so she called her only other friend not at this party - Joel. She breathed a sigh of relief when he answered instead of one of his parents.

“Joel, can you come get me?” she sobbed into the receiver. His stomach dropped.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Tommy?”

“I found him in a bedroom with Tiffany Anderson.”

“I’ll kill him,” Joel growled. She heard Tommy calling for her.

“Just hurry, he’s looking for me and I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Okay. Wait outside, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

She managed to avoid Tommy until Joel pulled up to the curb where she was standing. She flung open the door and slid into the seat before a fresh bout of tears overcame her.

“You been drinkin’?” he asked.

“No, but he was,” she said through her tears. “He got really drunk.”

“Great,” Joel grumbled. That meant after he dropped her off, he’d be going back for Tommy. “Tell me what happened.”

“I was talking to some people when one of the girls grabbed my arm and said she’d just seen Tommy go upstairs with Tiffany. I went up there and found them kissing and her shirt was off.” It took her a few minutes to get the whole story out between sobs. Joel felt bad for her and hated seeing her cry. He patted her on the knee gently.

“I’m sorry he did that. I guess I’m gonna have to kick his ass now.”

She thought back to the promise he made last year if Tommy made her cry again. Despite how hurt and angry she was feeling, her heart fluttered a little at the realization he cared enough about her to remember that.

When he circled back to the party, Tommy was already waiting for him outside.

“You’re gonna kill me, right?” he slurred when he opened the passenger door.

“Somethin’ like that, yeah. Get in, you little jerk.”

Instead of roughing him up, Joel did the next worst thing a brother could do - he ratted him out to their parents. Tommy was grounded for a week for going to the party and two more for cheating on his girlfriend. The Millers weren’t raising playboys.

Saturday March 23, 1985

It took six months for her to even entertain the idea of talking to Tommy again. She talked to Joel every day, the pair having become good friends since the incident. That bothered Tommy to no end.

“You know it’s not cool that you still talk to her and she won’t talk to me,” he complained over breakfast one Saturday morning.

“Get over it. I ain’t gonna stop being her friend because you couldn’t control your hormones. You really hurt her. Don’t you think it would hurt her feelings even more if I took your side when you were clearly in the wrong? Have you even tried to apologize?”

Tommy looked down into his bowl of cereal and mumbled a defeated, “no.” He knew Joel was right. He called her house and to his surprise, she agreed to talk to him. He apologized a hundred times, telling her he had been so drunk that he doesn’t even remember doing anything with Tiffany, or how he got home.

“I miss you,” he told her earnestly. “Can we meet somewhere?”

She was quiet for a few moments. She missed Tommy, too. She believed he was sincere, although she was pretty sure Joel was the catalyst for the conversation. He was always the voice of reason among the three of them. There was a tiny part of her, shoved away in the recesses of her mind, that wished she could be with him. The older Miller was more mature and they had a lot more in common. She was in denial about her feelings for him and he was seeing someone anyway.

“You still there?” Tommy asked tentatively.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. Yeah, we can meet somewhere.”

Friday May 8th, 1987

“Why don’t you just fucking admit you’re in love with him?” Tommy shouted.

“Tommy, I’m not in love with Joel. I love you, would you please stop?”

It was true, she had shaken any feelings she thought she had for Joel. She focused on her relationship with Tommy after they got back together near the end of sophomore year. Things went great for a solid year - until Stephanie came along that is. When Joel suggested a double date, she had been excited to meet the girl he talked constantly about, but she wasn’t worth the hype he gave her. She mostly ignored Peach and Tommy in favor of kissing and touching Joel whenever she could. It made Peach want to vomit. When she did talk, she was condescending and rude. Peach was mad at Joel by the end of the night for even entertaining this woman. This triggered the argument between her and Tommy.

“Please, you seethed the entire time we were at the restaurant with them,” he argued.

“Yeah, because she was a huge bitch. She acted like we were fucking toddlers because we’re still in high school. If we’d closed our eyes for a few seconds, she probably would’ve fucked him at the table,” Peach countered.

“Stephanie’s only half of the problem. Jealousy is the other half.”

Peach put her head in her hands, frustrated that the conversation was getting nowhere.

“Maybe we’re just supposed to be friends,” she sighed. “I can’t keep breaking up and getting back together with you. If you leave me over this, then I’m done. I don’t know how to convince you that I’m not in love with your brother.”

“You can’t,” Tommy said sadly. “I can see it. It always been Joel for you, Peach. I just couldn’t see it til now.”

“Tommy please, that’s not true.” Her voice broke and a cascade of tears flowed down her cheeks. “I love you Tommy.”

“Maybe so,” he shrugged. “But I don’t think you love me as much as you love him.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He stormed out of her house and left her sobbing in her room - only this time Joel couldn’t pick up the pieces.

When Joel asked her what happened, she told him it was too upsetting to talk about and he didn’t push her. He couldn’t console her like he wanted to - not without Stephanie losing her shit. She didn’t like Peach but put up with her because Joel was adamant about being her friend. Stephanie ultimately ended up getting her way, though, because Joel hung out with Peach less and less. She lost her boyfriend and her best friend in one fell swoop.

Saturday June 6th, 1987

For the first time in weeks, Joel approached Peach and gave her a big hug. He’d had to elbow his way through the throng of fresh high school graduates to see her.

“Congratulations, grad,” he beamed. Peach saw Stephanie scowling over his shoulder and Tommy was glaring at her from across the auditorium. She fought the tears that were coming and gave Joel her best fake smile. He saw right through it, of course, and his face fell.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “He’s an ass. He - he told me what happened.”

“For fuck’s sake,” she groaned. “I’m not in love with you, okay? He’s always thought we had something but it’s in his head and I can’t make him see any differently.”

“I know, I know. It’s okay,” he soothed. “Hey, it’s your big day and I see your folks lookin’ for ya right now. Go enjoy yourself, okay Peach? Promise me?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Okay. Promise.”

Saturday July 4, 1987

Peach walked through the back gate of her friend Julie’s house. Her family always had a huge barbecue on the fourth and Julie was allowed to invite whoever she wanted. They were filthy rich. Joel spotted her coming in and called out to her; she found him sitting alone at a picnic table, smoking a joint. Julie’s parents were very liberal. He offered it to her as she sat across from him.

“What would Saint Stephanie say?” she teased before taking a drag.

“She ain’t gonna find out,” he replied.

“Where is she, anyway?” She passed the joint back to him.

“This ain’t really her scene. She’s doing something with her folks.” He took a drag off the joint and passed it back.

“How are you doing since…you know?” he asked. Just when he asked that, Tommy walked through the back gate, Tiffany Anderson clinging to his arm.

“Well, I was doing a lot better until he just walked in with Tiffany.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Joel sighed. “He’s so stupid.”

Peach made to get up, but Joel stopped her.

“Don’t leave. He just wins that way. Besides, we ain’t talked in weeks.”

“Fine,” she agreed. Tommy approached them with Tiffany in tow.

“Peach, you know Tiffany,” he said smugly.

“Yeah, it’s really nice to see you with your shirt on Tiff,” Peach quipped with a fake smile. “And Tommy, at least you broke up with me before whoring around this time. I call that character development.”

Tommy scowled at her, his plan obviously failing. He grabbed Tiffany’s arm and left without another word. Joel shook his head.

“Idiot.”

Later that evening, there was a knock at Peach’s front door. Tommy stood on the other side, hands shoved in his pockets and guilt on his face.

“What do you want, Tommy?” Peach sighed when she opened the door.

“I’m sorry. It was stupid for me to show up with Tiffany. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He looked genuinely sorry.

“Are you two dating or what?”

“No; I asked if she wanted to come with me but I took her straight home after and I didn’t even have a good time,” he admitted. “I miss hanging out with you.”

“I miss hanging out with you, too,” Peach told him honestly. “Can we try to be friends? I’ve been miserable all summer.”

Tommy looked at her sheepishly, knowing he was at least half the cause of her misery.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said.

Thursday October 6th, 1988

Things went back to normal for a long time. Peach, Tommy and Joel saw each other on a regular basis. Peach and Tommy were getting along much better as friends and the three of them were closer than ever. They were hanging out at Joel’s new place when Peach noticed he was being unusually quiet.

“What’s up Joel?” she asked. “You look a million miles away.”

He heaved a heavy sigh before answering, “Stephanie’s pregnant.”

Tommy and Peach stared at him in stunned silence. Tommy had finally seen what Peach saw in Stephanie and he didn’t like her either.

“You’re having a demon spawn with She Devil?” he asked incredulously. Peach nudged him in the ribs.

“Tommy! You can’t refer to your future niece or nephew as demon spawn.”

“You didn’t say anything about the She Devil comment,” Joel pointed out. Peach raised her eyebrows at him.

“You know how I feel.”

“Well, she’s gonna be the mother of my child so I suggest y’all get on board,” he shot back angrily.

“Oh god, you’re not gonna marry her are you?” Peach groaned.

“Thought about it,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m gonna give it a little bit.”

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes. Peach was the first one to finally speak.

“Well…if you’re happy, I’m happy,” she said. “Obviously I wish Stephanie was a better person, but as long as she treats you and the baby right, I’m good.”

“She’s getting better at lying,” Tommy thought to himself. He wondered if she believed anything she was saying, because he didn’t.

Thursday July 20, 1989

Tommy and Peach waited anxiously in the waiting room of the maternity ward for Joel to come out and tell them he was officially a father. He’d called from the hospital a few hours prior and they rushed right over. At 4:47 pm, he burst through the doors with a huge grin.

“It’s a girl. Her name is Sarah.”

[cno-inbminor]

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin​ for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia 

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings:  DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

-

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

-

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

-

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

-

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and  caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him.  It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,”  he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

-

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

-

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

-

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

-

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

-

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

-

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

-

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

-

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

-

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

-

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

[warmblanketwhump]

close proximity

two rivals, one bed, one snowstorm. what could go wrong? (word count: 1.3k)

A was furious. They’d told B that their university project could wait until tomorrow, that they’d work out the details before class. But no, B just couldn't settle for that – they had to prepare the night before. And now, B was stuck at A’s apartment as a blizzard raged outside.

"Are you happy now? Class'll probably be cancelled, and it won't even be due," A snaps.

B stands in the doorway, arms crossed, stifling a cough. “It’s your fault that I even had to come over here in the first place. If you hadn’t put your part off, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“Oh don’t start,” A retorts. “I’ve got better things to do than help you keep your precious 4.0.” A and B had been at each others throats all semester, but this project was the last straw.

The snow was coming down in great white waves, and if A was a crueler person, they'd throw B right out on the stoop. But they weren't heartless.

“Look,” huffs A. “You might as well not skid off the road and blame me for that, too. Sleep on my couch. Or don’t. I don’t care.” With that, A snatches the nearest blanket and throws it B’s way, and B catches it. B looks torn, eyes glancing out at the storm and back at the blanket, then to the storm again. Coughing weakly, they sink onto the couch, resigned to their fate.

“Sleep well,” A mumbles. With that, they head back to their room, burrow into their bed, and promptly fall asleep.

Hours later, they’re woken by the freezing cold biting at their nose. A groans as they sit up, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. They snatch a blanket from the top of the pile to wrap around themselves, slip a pair of socks over their cold toes, and step back into the hallway.

They make it to their thermostat and are greeted by a dark panel where a warm glow used to be. The blizzard must’ve knocked out power - and hours ago, if it’s this cold.

A turns to go back to their room, but they’re stopped by the sound of a weak sob. They listen again, confused. Someone, sniffling, coughing in short, shuddering breaths - wait, B. That’s who’s here in their usually empty apartment.

A takes a couple hesitant steps. B’s huddled on the couch, the thin blanket pulled closely around them, knees tucked up so they’re a tightly wound ball. And even in the dark, A can see them shivering.

“B? Hey, come on. What’s wrong?” In the darkness, A can make out a small tuft of hair poking out above the blanket.

“M’ cold,” they whimper. A reaches out to feel B's forehead, too warm and speckled with sweat. A’s hand trails down to B's shoulder, feeling the thin blanket that's now their feverish body's only protection against the freezing air. The anger from hours before melts away, replaced by a guilt that punctures A's chest.

“Oh, honey-” The term of endearment slips from A’s mouth before they can stop it, remember who they’re talking to. But B either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care enough to respond, and a weak cough slips from their lips. They've been down here for hours like this.

A sits on the couch and pulls B close under their blanket, rubbing B's arms, their back, their shoulders, desperately trying to warm them up. B just presses closer, and A can feel the heat of the fever radiating off them.

The sudden intimacy just compounds A's guilt. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

B shrugs limply, head buried in the crook of A’s neck. “I was just tired and achy before. I was just going to try and make home if you hadn't offered for me to stay. I figured you didn't really care what I did or how I felt.”

A momentary vision of B sick and stranded in a cold, broken-down car puts a lump in A's throat, and they swallow hard. "C'mon, B. We don't get along, but you can't think that I'm enjoying your suffering."

B snorts softly. "The way we go at it? I was expecting you to pitch me out on the porch." A feels a twinge in their chest - they had considered it. And yet here they were, trying to keep their sworn enemy just a little bit warmer.

Despite the fever, B’s hands are like ice. A puffs warm air onto them, vigorously trying to rub the blood back into their chilled fingers.

B groans with gratitude. "It's so warm."

A sighs. Their options for keeping B comfortable are few, especially with the power being out. And honestly, it makes their heart squeeze a bit to think of B down here, alone and sick. There's only one feasible option - and it's not one that they think B will love, either.

“C’mon,” A says, standing. They hold out their hand to B, who has the decency to look confused as they take it. “It’s freezing and God knows how long it’ll be until the heat comes back. It’ll be warmer with two of us.”

B, still drowsy, is halfway down the hall before they find it in themselves to object. “A, I’m not - we can’t share -"

“You honestly want to turn into a popsicle on my couch and get sicker?”

B drops their protests, and they reach A’s bed, piled in blankets. “It’s a mess," A says sheepishly, "but I promise it’s warmer.”

“You have SIX blankets on your bed? Normally?” A can hear the disbelief in B’s voice.

“Seven, once you bring yours. I hate being cold.”

“So do I - that doesn’t mean I need SIX blankets. Do you even feel a difference after the first three?”

“Do you want to go back to the couch?”

“....no.”

“Then be quiet and enjoy this beautiful, majestic nest I've welcomed you into.”

They help B clumsily navigate the layers, and soon they’re both tucked away, A leaving generous space between the two of them.

“A...” B whispers after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” A huffs.

“You said it'd be warmer. I’m still cold.”

“You have a fever, you kumquat – of course you're cold. These are all the blankets I have.”

B rustles in the blankets for a moment. “You know, it was kind of nice when you hugged me.”

“You mean it was warm when I hugged you.”

“Yes. It was. And being warm felt nice.”

“Are you...implying something?”

“C’mon, A. I’m cold. You’re warm. There's only one solution I can see for that.”

"B, you've got germs and you're technically warmer than I am. Just give it a minute."

B sighs dejectedly, and A can't help but feel an ache of sympathy. Even on the other side of the bed, A can feel B shaking. Though they're loathe to admit it, the bedroom is still cold. And maybe the idea of curling up next to another warm (okay, fevered) body is tempting, even if that body is likely to promptly pass on whatever plague they've got.

“Please?" B whispers a few minutes later. "I'm freezing. Just a minute or two. And then I promise you can shove me off and I'll shut up.”

A pauses for a moment. B's voice is so soft, so pleading, so unlike their usual intolerable self, and A knows they must be truly miserable if they're begging. So they give in.

"Fine. Just until you're warm enough." A scoots closer, pulling B's fevered head onto their chest and wrapping their arms around them. A can feel the tiny shivers that ripple through B's body, and they rub soothing circles onto B's back as their breathing slows. B nestles closer, and an unexpected warmth floods A's whole body. Their hand slowly makes its way towards B’s head, fingers gently running through their soft hair.

Before long, B is completely asleep. But A doesn't let go. Somehow, a small sliver of them has been won over by the least likely person imaginable. And as they drift off, they realize they might not mind at all.

[omegaobeyme]

I've been obsessed with Lady Gaga's, "Judas" Song...and it gave me an idea for a short Fic. A Devil's Angel Tags: PG13+, scene of violence/death, Angel/Human!MC, DiavoloxMc, Spoilers for lesson 16 Part 1/?

Diavolo was a glorified demon, rivaling strength to only 2 other realm leaders. Of course, if you asked any obedient servant of the throne, he was naturally the obvious winner. So what happens when you have all of the strength a being could dream of and more? You "make friends" apparently. There was no way this all-powerful man could be up to such a light-hearted task. Perhaps it was his butler, Barbatos, with such knowledge and time who guided Diavolo to urge such a conclusion. Had the green-haired demon known a war was to commence? Was Diavolo truly unfit to win such a battle, and therefore needed another way out? These questions filled your head as you stepped into your new dormitory. You were a human, just not too human entirely. Angels essence filled your being thanks to your ancestor, Lilith. You had even met Michael himself years back when her memories flooded yours as the angel essence was supposed to take you to heaven. Long story short, you were in a temporary coma after a car accident. Simeon shook you out of your head with a hand on your shoulder, "remember why you're here." He said, with the same smile he always gave. It was too suspicious for a soon-to-be demon lord to be asking for unity, and god wanted answers. This is where you came in: a seemingly innocent human whose in an extremely unique position to gain an advantage; and more importantly, knowledge. Solomon joined you for your first tea with Barbatos and Diavolo, time allowing. Knocking on the door, you were met with the tired eyes of the butler. "Welcome, over this way." Barbatos guided the pair of humans and you couldn't help but notice how unnervingly perfect this man was. It was as if a board has been placed against his back, perfectly aligning his spine starting at his hips, threaded through his neck. Finally, he motioned towards a satin couch placed within an openly lit common area, decorated with lavish antiques, artwork, and instruments. Solomon broke the silence, "Ah, Auguste Allaire?" "Indeed." The green-haired demon replied, understanding his question without having to look at the painting Solomon was referencing. "I would like to clarify this meeting is to get to know our human exchange students," He began lifting a tray off his serving cart, finished with matching teacups and plates for the both of us, "As humans, it's of upmost importan-" Doors burst open, featuring a particularly muscled demon prince. "Barbatos!" Diavolo smiled so wide his eyes managed to shut. Not only was his personality loud, his laugh was louder. "Sorry, sorry! I'm late, aren't I?" If you were embarrassed, you can imagine Barbatos' reaction in his own mind. He simply sat down and motioned for his Lord to follow suit. It was at this moment you thought it was a horrible prank you somehow got involved in. Months would pass, much like the meetings you had with the royals. During these moments you were allowed questions pre-approved by Simeon. "Why do you want to unite the realms?" and "What happened to the king?" All of which never satisfied any angels curiosity. It seemed for that you'd continue this way forever, until the day you knew of him. The sun gently glazed over your skin, sending shivers at the unexpected warmth of the devildom morning. Of course, it was Lucifer. "I know you better than to sleep in, MC." His gaze shifts to your own, as his back turns to face the now opened curtain of your room. "I'm sorry, I don't usually sleep in unless I'm sick." You weren't lying, it was unusual. "Oh? Perhaps it would be best for you to stay home. I'll have Satan take notes in your stead." Lucifer retorted, sparing you no opportunity to argue back. Then again...this would give you an opportunity to explore the house, especially to find anything Diavolo's "right hand man" might be keeping. Simply nodding, you rolled the covers over your head and set the alarm for another hour, knowing well a mostly human like yourself couldn't escape their well-trained eyes to watch them walk away. At 8 a.m, you awoke to find breakfast in a tightly-sealed container. However, hunger

could barely invade the anxiety creeping upon you. First in priority was making sure everyone was gone, no one in the kitchen, bedrooms, studies, or observatories. Now it was finally time...you took the steps towards Lucifer's room, each slower than the last. Lifting the back of your hand, you knock only to realize the door opening upon contact. The air was noticeably cooler, and his record player opened, as if suddenly stopped. You draw your attention towards his desk, the obvious choice. As you go through paperwork, you realize you can't find any, despite the mountains on his desk every night. Of course. They must've been brought to RAD along with his briefcase he brings every day. But there had to be something. Anything. Go through his bookshelves: nothing. Flip through his records: nothing. The closest lead you've got is a sticky-note in his book with a quote. You take off, looking for any other places he could possibly be storing such sensitive information, then it hit you: the upstairs. Lucifer had made it such a point to not venture upstairs, could he have been more oblivious of such a hint? Honestly, it was still scary to think about going up to an unknown part of the house, but you had no other choice. After checking the time, you begin making the climb only to find a hallway with one door. A loud bang comes from an unknown direction, and you flinch, thinking someone had come home. Then a low chuckle comes from the room in front of you, nearly taunting. Once you gather your emotions, you continue onward to face whatever lay in front of you, only to find a normal-looking human. "who-" "oh, are you the new playtoy?" he responds, "excuse me?" You step backwards, out of reach from his hands, "I don't know what you're talking about." His smile fades, "oh, you must be another human.." He's human, too? "I know what it looks like, but you're not safe here. Ask about Belphegor. Meet me again when it's safe. He's coming back." the blue-white haired male shrinks back into the darker area of the room, and before you can process, your feet run down to your room. Not too long after, a knock fills the empty air. The handle turns, and Satan makes his appearance visible. "Wow. You do look bad. Maybe you should get back to bed." you shake your head, attempting to mask the heartbeat in your chest. "No! No, I'm fine, I swear. What's in your hand?" attempting to avert his attention, you point to the notebook in his hand. "Oh, that. Well I came here to study with you since I heard you missed the day." Satan moved in towards your bed, laying the notebook on your bedstand and flipping to the nearest filled-in page. "Here's the theories we went over, and the elixir's following. I've already taken geography so I brought my old textbook to help, and then there's realm science." You hold your hand up for him to pause as you look over each notes. "Wait, Griffins horn? I thought it was powdered unicorn hoof." He smiles, "Nice catch. We go over it next semester, some things can be substituted for higher-grade materials depending on the molecular structure. If you take a look at..." Satan proceeds to take your mind off the previous situation for the next two hours. That is, until you get lost in thought. "MC? MC, snap out of-" "Who is Belphegor?" you interrupt, leaving him speechless. He clicks his tongue, hand on temple. Everytime he attempts to talk he groans in frustration. Panic settles upon your face unsure of what you had just asked. Had he just set you up? Was he another demon out to steal your soul? What will they do when they find out. "What do you know?" Satan manages to find words, "I-" you begin to lose yours. What does Belphegor mean? It seems like a name but what if- "You know what? I don't want to know. Keep it to yourself." He gets off from the edge of your bed and slams the door behind him. This wouldn't be the last time you heard of him, nor the last you saw. The next morning was eerie. You weren't dead, but..it somehow felt like it. No one came to let you know of breakfast, even after a few minutes of waiting. It

wasn't like you wanted to show your face either, you felt naked. When you did arrive, everyone at the table remained silent besides minimal conversations. Beelzebub no longer tried to steal your food, and Asmodeus wasn't trying to flirt with you. When Lucifer announced it was time to head to RAD, a weight had been lifted from the silence. After opening the door, you noticed another figure beside him. "Good morning, Mc. May I trouble you in taking you out of classes for another day?" Barbatos lightly tilted his head as his eyes looked upon your soul. "O-Of course." You took the hand provided, as he lead you to the castle. When you arrived, Barbatos told you to make yourself comfortable in the first living room. Before long, Diavolo appeared alongside him. "Mc! It's good to see you!" he beamed, arms opened for a hug. "And you as well, Diavolo." Quick to your feet, you met his courtesy. He brightened further when you returned his affection. "Do you by chance enjoy flowers?" Thinking back to the celestial realm, you nod. Taking your hand, he shows you to the garden out back. "Out of everything I was not expecting a garden.." "Really? What did you expect?" His arms crossed and he moved closer towards you, watching your expressions as you gathered your thoughts. "Well, for a demon, maybe stone statues or torture devices." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Is that what humans think now? Are we that cruel?" Diavolo jokes, until Barbatos chimes in, "Times have changed since young masters reign." as he finishes, you notice the plate of gourmet sandwiches prepared for the two of you, placed on a garden table not too far off. Together, you shared the next two hours together chatting alone. Without distractions clouding the brain, things seemed to appear as usual. The brothers began talking to you as normal, including Satan. Simeon hadn't brought up any information or lack thereof since the last meeting with Diavolo and Solomon. In fact, Diavolo seemed to be taking more time out of his schedule to spend with you alone, rather than the two human exchange students. It was nice, for a change; until you remembered what occurred with the Belphegor situation. "So, why did you ask me here in the first place?" Diavolo noticed your body language shifting for a few minutes now, but he knew something was coming at this point. "Today? Well, I enjoy the company of-" "No, Dia. When you first brought me to this garden." It couldn't be helped, you had now formed a friendship with Diavolo. He knew too much about you and how you truly acted when you were yourself, rather than the puppet an angel could use. Emotions conflicted, parts of you yearned to let loose, yet at the same time, what if it was all just an act? What if you had fallen right into his trap, and he knew all along? Just like the dictator Michael had expected. Putting his cup aside, he took a brief pause before answering. "Satan told me that day what had occurred. I thought it best to ensure my exchange student's --" Diavolo stopped as you stood up, allowing your exit. "Tired. So fucking tired." You thought to yourself as you made your way home to the house of Lamentation. Of course, not only did the oh-so-friendly prince take you out of classes once a week, he adjusted your course schedule to reflect such changes. All you could think was how pathetic you are for allowing this to happen under your watch. You never felt fit for this job, but never more so in this moment. Hesitation couldn't be found as you made your way up the stairs into the room. "You're back. Angry. Cat got your tongue?" He was obviously trying to rile you up and it was working. "So who is Belphegor? Are you trying to get me killed?" At this point, he bursts out laughing, "you think this is funny?!" you scream out. "Very." He stops, looking directly into your eyes. "And you're only helping me escape. How about I tell you a secret? I'm not even a human. I know you understand that by now, but I'm Belphegor, the last brother. And you just helped me escape." Before you knew it, hands wrapped around your neck. It was

gentle enough to find release, running downstairs and towards the front door. It was always apparent there was risks, but that's why you had the angels blessing! So why are you so close to death?? Before you could turn the handle, it moves itself. Belphie takes the chance to knock you off your feet, immobilizing you and landing you upon your back. The door opens as Belphegor protrudes claws into your most vital organ, and cold rushes over you, processing the last visuals of Lucifer's shock with Diavolo behind him. "Open your eyes." You wince. He's on top of you, how could you look? There's no way a human could escape the wrath of a demon. "Did you forget about me?" the voice echoes. What? Opening your eyes, you find nothing but white space. Suddenly, a door appears in front of your body. "Don't waste it. And don't forget where you came from." Lilith? There's no way...but then, this couldn't be a dream. It felt too real. On the other side of the doorframe was your last visual before you died, from another perspective. Glimpses flash from her own memories as it floods into your own.. in a flash, your perspective of yourself and the brothers around you changes. You could see the door Lucifer held opening in mere seconds. He froze, in shock of seeing Belphegor out. What's more, the man behind him couldn't see. The red haired demon pushed through, to find the worst fate. Immediately transforming, he flies to your dead body's side. Anger wouldn't be enough to describe what you witnessed in his eyes, nor the grief he was going through. This wasn't normal. Nothing in your body felt that what you were watching was normal. A king's priority should be on subduing Belphegor, and here he was at your deceased version's side. Suddenly, Belphegor's words filled the air. "DON'T FUCKING DARE, FOR THEM? HAHAHA!" You've never heard such a deranged laugh before. Lucifer's eyes opened even further upon processing what Diavolo was accomplishing. Tears couldn't be found in Diavolo's face, he was far beyond it. Whatever was happening, Belphegor didn't dare interrupt. "L-Lord Diavolo, you can't sacrifice yourself for-" Diavolo paid no mind to his right hand mans attempt at stopping him, taking a deep inhale, hands at his horns. "I apologize mother, but I can assure you I won't be wasting your gift." time slows further as Diavolo begins to pull away at his horns. "STOP." Every head turns to look at you, including Diavolo. It wasn't until you died that it hit you. The moments before anyone realized you came back you saw his selfless actions for yourself.

[aetheternity]

Hard pass (Levi x reader)

(Enjoy a beautiful pic of chubby cheeked Levi)

Synopsis: Levi is forced out of his comfy dorm room and in a strange twist of events right into your arms at a college party.

"No."

"But I haven't even finished the question yet.." Hange sighed

"You want me to come to one of these pointless weekend parties that you go to almost every Saturday." Levi responded, fingers clicking quickly against his laptops keyboard.

"Come on Levi, if I got forced into going you have to come too." Erwin said with exasperation thick in his tone.

"How did you stupidly end up saying yes?" Levi questioned looking up from his laptop with a small raise of his brow.

Erwin shook his head almost in shame. "Hange offered to purchase that book I've wanted all semester. The one I couldn't find for any cheaper than 350." He shrugged, "Speaking of which how do you plan on paying for it?"

"Don't worry about that. Worry about the party we're all going to have so much fun at tonight."

"I said no." Levi grunted

"Oh come on!" Hange's voice echoed in the small dorm room.

"What else are you going to be doing? You know besides staring at a screen all night and cleaning Mike's side of the room?"

Mike was an over all good roommate despite his cluttered space. Levi had known him his entire almost three years of college and after a while they'd become friends. Though Levi still sometimes found himself cleaning up after Mike because he just couldn't stand the growing clothes pile on the other side of the room.

"So what?" Levi shrugged rereading the same paragraph again because Hange kept distracting him.

"So?! Do you really wanna sit in here on a Saturday night again instead of going to get some pussy like Mike is probably doing?"

"That's so inappropriate Hange." Erwin commented

"Take the stick out of your ass we're all grownups here." Hange replied shooting Erwin a weak stare which Erwin reciprocated. "Come on! What'd I have to do to get you to come?"

Levi rubbed his eyelids. He knew this would pretty much be his night if he didn't go but parties definitely weren't his thing. Though somehow this might be mildly worse.

"One fucking hour. No more no less." He finally agreed

"YES!" Hange screamed so loud it could probably be heard in the building next door.

"Look who else stupidly ended up saying yes." Erwin smirked

"Shut up, I just want to be able to work in silence sometime tonight.

"Sure sure."

"Get ready! We'll be waiting downstairs!" Hange bounced

~ ~ ~ ~

It took Levi about thirty minutes to get ready. His attire comprised of a dark red shirt, black dress pants and a black jacket hung over his shoulder. He hopped into Hange's car ignoring the groans of how this was a party not a funeral and how him and Erwin sucked at having fun.

He hadn't even entered the front door yet and he was already praying for this hour to be quick. He didn't technically have to rush back to his paper since he was ahead of schedule for all of his classes. But he still hated to leave an unfinished paper just lying around. Even if only for an hour.

The drive was surprisingly (and thankfully) pretty short. Though Levi was surprised when they headed into a dorm building. Hange took the lead as they climbed up the stairs though the higher they got the worse the smell got.

Erwin coughed fanning his face, "God that is an ungodly odor." And Levi quickly followed suit wrinkling his nose.

"Can't have a party without it." Hange replied with a small laugh.

"Disgusting." Levi responded

"You can definitely have a party without weed." Erwin groaned

"Your stuffy book meetings are parties Erwin."

Levi almost wanted to laugh at this but he kept his composure. They finally rounded a corner coming up to a door where a guy and a girl were outstretched on the floor. Both of whom had drinks in their hands. They both greeted Hange and Hange quickly greeted them back.

"Alright boys. Time to party." She delighted

The booming music that Levi could hear out in the hallway went from mildly obnoxious to instantly pounding. Levi hated it. He might have to find a way to sneak out before the hour was up. Though at the moment Hange was pulling both him and Erwin by their collars as if she was scared either of them would make a run for it.

"You guys hungry?!" She asked "Let's go get some chips!"

It felt like the farther in you went the worse the godforsaken music sounded. And in such a small dorm. How was everyone not deaf? Somehow though it looked like almost everyone was ignoring the music. There were people on the floor making out, people talking, a guy laying in the sink with a lampshade over his head..

And throughout all of it Hange was getting greeted left and right. It was honestly weird seeing as Levi had never seen Hange with anyone other than him and Erwin. They finally reached the snack table where Hange quickly shoved the bowl of chips into Levi's hands.

Levi grumbled but Hange just smiled, "Come on guys, Loosen up this is your first party after all!" She sighed, loudly rubbing both of their backs.

Levi wordless handed the chip bowl to Erwin. "I've been to parties." Erwin replied, taking a chip and slowly chewing it.

"Your fifteenth birthday is not what I'm talking about." She huffed, "You guys are totally missing out on what makes college fun!"

"Watching people shove their tongues into each other's mouths and get drunk in a room that is far too hot and too crowded while music bumps obnoxiously over every word you say so you have to lose your voice screaming?"

"Yes! Isn't that great?!" Erwin and Levi simultaneously groaned over Hange's enthusiasm. "Here, come on have a beer!" She handed both boys a bottle. Levi stared at it plainly, that is until a voice shakes him from his gaze.

"Hey Hange!" This voice is much sweeter. So much more comforting to hear than the agitating speaker. He looked up in time to freeze in his place. His eyes transfixed on the person currently in front of him.

"Y/N! Hey, I didn't know you were coming out tonight."

"Yeah, my roommate forced me. She said I've been too stressed lately." Her smile was bright under all the strobe lights. Everything about her felt bright from her eyes to the shimmer of her hair. Was her hair shimmering? Maybe it was Levi's imagination.

Y/N? Was that what Hange called her? What a pretty name for such a pretty girl.. How could Hange know someone like you?

"You remember Erwin right?" Hange asked, which temporarily shook Levi from his thoughts.

Erwin stuck out his hand, "Hi again Y/N." Erwin knew you too??

"Hey! Erwin, let me guess you still haven't found that impressively old book full of research from like 1853?" Their hands stayed together for a minute longer than Levi would've liked.

"Incorrect, the only reason I'm here is because I found it."

She nodded her smile still warm and giving Levi a warmth that spread through his abdomen like a flame. "Sorry, I'm a little off my radar tonight. I'm the designated deliverer. Deliever because I'm just walking my drunk friends a couple floors down later."

Hange gave a brief laugh, "Where is Sasha by the way?"

Y/N searched for a second. "I'm hoping she's across the hall because I've been trying to escape all this noise all night."

"Oh! Right by the way this is Levi!"

Y/N's gaze turned from Hange to Levi and she stretched out her hand. "Oh hi Levi." She said

"H-H-Hi.." Levi said, hand shaking as he placed it in her's. She giggled and Levi swore he felt her thumb rub the back of his hand.

"Well, I better go look for Sasha. I can't go back to our room till she's with me. Come across the hall later I'll probably still be there."

"Sure, sounds good!" Hange replied

Y/N smiled, "Nice to see you again Erwin, Bye Levi."

Levi could've sworn up and down that Y/N had said his name differently. She had to have right? Her tone was so sultry.. the words ran through Levi's brain replying over and over. Shivers coursing up and down his spine-

"I can't tell if Levi looks red from the strobe lights or if he's flushed." Levi turned at Erwin's words cupping his face before grunting at how hot he felt.

Oh no..

"I can't believe you have crush on my friend!"

Levi felt his face grow even hotter. "I don't! Sh-shut up." He outwardly huffed over how pathetic he was being. His heart felt so heavy in his chest

"OH MY GOD SO CUTE!!" Surprisingly enough Hange caught the attention of a few people. "THIS'LL BE GREAT! I CAN BE YOUR WINGMAN!"

"Shut the fuck up Hange!" Levi practically growled. Erwin nodded to the people staring at them. "Shut up.. I-I don't have a crush on her.."

Hange finally stopped bouncing and weirdly fell silent as she stood staring at her best friend. "Fine, let's go across the hall then."

Levi's heart instantly fluttered. "But we just got here?" Erwin said, seemingly questioning his own weird reluctance to go across the hall when he definitely hated it here as much as Levi.

"No real reason. I mean. It's just that it's quieter over there. Everyone over there is just drinking and talking." Hange responded already walking towards the door. Levi felt his feet move without his consent practically bumping into Hange's back as he hurried out behind her. Erwin quickly following.

Hange knocked twice on the door across the hall. And the three of them walked in. And Levi didn't even realize how much of a relief it was to be here until the smell hit his noise and the peaceful chatter hit his ears.

Hange huffed but Levi barely noticed, his eyes scanning the room for Y/N.

"It's so quiet here. I'm not fond of this I might go back across the hall and you guys can stay here."

Erwin immediately protested, "We don't know anyone here."

"Yeah, but I didn't even get to enjoy the music!" Hange pouted stomping slightly like a child.

"You forced us to come now you have to stay with us." Erwin replied, "Besides-" he looked at Levi who was staring at three slightly cracked doors. "This could be way better."

"Soooooooo!" Hange smirked, elbowing Levi's shoulder.

Levi immediately tended up at the feeling. His gaze steely and cold. "What?"

"How are you gonna ask out Y/N?"

Levi's face betrayed him, turning a deep red at the spur of the moment question. "I'm not asking shit."

"Oh come on! I did not bring you two to this party for absolutely nothing exciting to happen."

"If you like her you should tell her Levi." Erwin replied honestly

Levi scowled, "I don't.."

"Yeah ok so let's pretend you're not talking out of your ass." Hange says, leading both boys over to the couch. "Nevermind we can't cause you're talking out of your ass."

"Tch."

"Is she even here?" Erwin asked

Levi did a quick look around once more just as you were coming out of the bedroom. A loud sigh falling off your lips.

"Hey!" She smiled "Didn't expect to see you guys so soon again."

"Oh yeah well, we just couldn't wait to see you again." Hange remarked ignoring the daggers Levi was sending her. "Come sit with us." Hange offers.

Y/N moves closer to sit between Hange and Erwin until Hange places a hand on her back. "No no no, you don't wanna sit here.. Erwin just let one rip. The whole room is gonna smell soon." She waved her hand in front of her nose and Erwin glared at her. "Sit next to Levi!" She offered

A part of Levi was genuinely thinking about how much Hange would sell for on Amazon while another part of him was relieved for the small plop of the seat next to him as you sat down. The way you reached forward to grab the tea cup you'd placed on the table.

It was easier now to see your curves and as much as Levi tried to hide his staring he couldn't help it. His eyes raking over every inch of your body he could see. Luckily you weren't paying attention to the way the tips of his ears grew redder by the second.

"You put her to sleep in someone else's room?" Hange laughed

"Well I think they're ordering another pizza so she's probably gonna wake up when she smells that."

And your smell.. Levi couldn't tell if it was your hair or your body but your smell was intoxicating right now. So mellow and sweet yet strong and vibrant.

"Uggghhh good cause I'm starving!"

Y/N laughed, "Ah I remember when I had to hear something like that every morning."

"That English class was way too early in the morning and you know it!" Hange laughed. Erwin had turned to his phone clearly more relaxed by the atmosphere.

"So, Levi what's your major?" Y/N suddenly turned to ask.

Levi blinked, then opened his mouth only to shut it again. His eyes were practically bulging and he felt like his face would melt off.

"He's business law." Hange helped clearly also holding in a laugh as Levi could only nod quietly.

"Oh. You know I know someone whose in-

"Y/N.. Where's my bed.." All four of you turned at once as a brown haired girl stumbled around in the space. "My bed.." she repeated staggering around.

"Ooo ok, you want you want your bed?" Y/N stood grabbing hold of the girl's waist. She giggled in delight and Y/N rubbed her back with a grin. "I'm gonna take Sasha downstairs."

"Are you going to come back?" Erwin asked and Levi was relieved in a way because he definitely wouldn't be able to get the words out.

"Mm, I don't think so. I'll see if she goes down easy then I might." She shrugged and Sasha giggled again. "Alright, time for bed." She chirped leading the girl in her arms out and soon far away from Levi's view.

He felt his stomach twist. Silently wishing he knew what being held like that by you felt like.

[clouditae]

First Love | Prologue

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 2.4k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

You drag your suitcase up the first flight of stairs, always hating the fact that you're not first to pick rooms when it comes to the date. Your roommate has an earlier time when it comes to picking a room, and she never picks the first floor. You only have one more flight until you reach the second floor, but you are tired from having to carry all your luggage up the stairs from the rental car you are going to have to return tomorrow. If only your parents weren’t so far away. 

“Do you need some help?” a voice asks from behind you, startling you. 

You almost drop your suitcase if it weren’t for the figure behind you stopping it from falling back down the stairs. “I’m so sorry,” you say, taking the suitcase back from the stranger. 

He laughs. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t know you had not heard me walk up the steps. I should be louder.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you begin, finally looking at him and all words are forgotten, “I’m…” He has an oval shape like head, his red beanie, that hid his dark blond hair, stood out compared to his sun kissed skin. When he smiles at you, his chestnut colored eyes almost disappear. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and dark gray sweats that are cut to his knees. “I’m the one who is walking slow,” you finally manage, forcing yourself to stop staring. 

“It’s move in day. Everyone is slow when it comes to moving. No one wants to unpack,” he answers, following you up the rest of the stairs until the two of you reach the second floor. You turn to face him, unsure of what else to say. You aren’t a very social person. “What floor do you live on?” he suddenly asks. 

“This one.” 

He smiles again, this one bigger than the last. “I do, too. Maybe we’ll see each other around,” he tells you, sounding so friendly it makes you question if he is being honest or humoring you. You nod, not sure as to what the best reply is. “Well, it was nice meeting you…”

Understanding the way he trailed off, you answer, “Y/N.” 

“Ah. Y/N. Nice to meet you, I’m Hoseok.” He extends his hand out towards you. 

You slowly took his hand sputtering, “Nice to meet you as well.” 

He points at the door next to the other flight of stairs that led to the third floor. The direction you’re going. “I’m headed that way.”

You honestly don’t want to say it, but you reply, “Me too.” 

“Really? Are we hallmates?” he questions, his voice showing signs of excitement. 

“I suppose we are,” you acknowledge. 

“That’s exciting.” You watch as Hoseok opens the door that leads you to the center hall, gesturing for you to enter first. You thank him and enter the hallway. He walks alongside you as the two of you walk a short distance until he stops at the first set of doors. He points to the second door closest to the exit towards the stairs. “This is me,” he begins, patting his pockets, “I hope to see you around, Y/N.” He frowns as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just realized I never grabbed my key off my desk when I left earlier,” he chuckles, knocking on his door. Immediately the door swings open, and you thought you felt your heart stop. He looks as if he had just woken up. His jet black hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and his lips in a little pout. The corner of his black, short sleeved shirt lifted as he rubbed his eye. “You’re awake,” Hoseok says in delight. 

“Well you were knocking so damn loud,” he grumbles in a gravelly voice. 

“It wasn’t that loud,” Hoseok protests.

Before Yoongi can argue, a familiar voice calls out, “There you are, Y/N. I thought you died or something.” Coming out of your own little world, your attention is now on your best friend, and roommate, Ari. “I finished unpacking a while ago, so I made your bed for you.” 

You open your mouth to reply, but Hoseok interrupts, “You’re our neighbor?” You can only nod, eyes meeting Yoongi briefly before looking at Hoseok. “That’s even better! Our chances of seeing each other are a lot higher.” 

“I should go,” you mumble, heading down as you quickly walk towards Ari. 

“Bye, Y/N,” Hoseok calls. 

You wave and enter your dorm, the door closing behind Ari as you set your luggage on your bed. Your heart is racing, cheeks most likely a blush color. “What’s up with you?” Ari asks, climbing into her bed as she watches you place a hand over your heart. 

“It’s him,” you reply in a whisper. 

“Who?”

You look at her, her strawberry blond hair coming loose from her bun. “Him.” 

You can see the cranks working in her eyes before they light up in realization. “Oh, you mean your crush for two years?”

“He has a name you know,” you remind her. 

Watching her as she places her finger to her rosy cheek. “Ah, yes. Fuckboy Yoongi,” she avows. 

“He is not a fuckboy,” you object.

“Have you heard the rumors about him? If he’s our neighbor, then those rumors are about to be confirmed soon enough,” Ari implies. 

“They’re just rumors.”

Ari sighs, “I just don’t want your feelings to get hurt if they are true.” 

“They won’t,” you promise her. 

With that, you continue to unpack, listening to your roommate complain about a professor she hasn’t met yet. She rants long after you have finished packing and the two of you are making your way downstairs to the dining hall to grab dinner. When the two of you enter the dining hall, you wait in line as the woman behind the counter takes the student’s ID and swipe it along the card reader. The line goes from four, and four goes to one. When the woman gives the card back to the person in front of you, you hand her your ID. 

“He is making us write three essays, and they’re only worth 13% of our grade,” Ari whines, handing her ID after you received yours back. “Our midterm and final are worth more, and you know I suck at taking tests. I’m not going to pass this class. I can already feel it.” 

The two of you enter the separate room where the food is displayed. A salad bar in the center, drinks to the right, and sweets to the left. Different types of foods are shown everywhere else. 

“What class is this?” you ask her, grabbing a plate from the stack by the salad bar. 

“Psycho,” she cries, taking a plate you hand her. “I actually have to show up to every class, participate, and probably kiss his ass a little so he knows I’m desperate.” 

You giggle. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Ari. You passed syntax last semester.” 

“And I did everything I had just told you. Maybe a little more. Hell, I even laughed at his jokes I didn’t understand,” Ari tells you before she wanders off to the direction where the pasta is. You follow in suit, eyes on the fettuccine alfredo. “Guess I’ll just have to read the textbook more than once.” 

“Have faith in yourself,” you tell her, handing your plate to the server who places a spoonful of pasta on it before giving it back. 

“I guess,” she sighs, taking her plate and drags her feet towards the salad bar, clearly disappointed with her decision to take the class. 

You don’t bother comforting her and instead you grab a bottle of water. Entering the dining room once again, you scan the area for an empty table. In the back of the room, you can see an empty table in the corner. Ari walks up next to you, letting out a sigh. “School sucks.”

You laugh, gesturing towards the table you found. “Let’s eat.” Leading her past the occupied tables, you set your food down, taking a seat. “You’ve passed all your classes before. You can pass this class, too. Have more faith in yourself, Ari,” you point out. 

Ari hums in response as the two of you eat in a comfortable silence. Your eyes wander around the room, watching as everyone sits at their tables and happily chats with one another. You’ve been living in the dorms for three years and you aren’t all that social like everyone else was. You watch as they greet one another as they pass by. It’s like they all know each other, and all you know is Ari. She’s been your friend and roommate for three years, and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. 

“If it isn’t my favorite neighbor,” a voice calls. You look up to see Hoseok smiling down at you as he holds a plate of food in his hand. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You glance at Ari who only shrugs. “Sure,” you say. 

He smiles, taking a seat next to you. “My roommate wouldn’t come eat with me, and I didn’t want to be by myself. I’m lucky I saw you guys,” he says, taking a bite of his pizza. He looks at Ari. “Ah. Right.” He sticks his hand out towards her. “I’m Hoseok.” 

Ari smiles, shaking his hand. “Ari.” 

“Well, Ari. Y/N. There’s a party happening on the third floor if you guys want to come. It’s several rooms that are having it, but it’s one big one,” he says, taking a bigger bite of his pizza. “Plus it’ll be nice to have someone I know there. Even if I only met you two today.”

“A party? I am so in,” Ari says, an excited smile on her face. “You going, Y/N?”

You shake your head. “I need to fix my camera,” you tell her, giving her a small, apologetic smile. 

“Camera? Is that a hobby?” Hoseok asks, finishing his first pizza. 

You shake your head again. “Major.” 

“Oh, really? You must be a pro at it.” 

“I’m really not,” you reply sheepishly, your face flushing. 

“She’s lying. She’s really good at it,” Ari tells Hoseok, dismissing your comment. You kick her under the table, but she ignores you completely. “I’ll show you some time.”

 “No one will be showing anything,” you state in a threatening tone but it doesn’t come out all that threatening. They clearly don’t take you seriously, but say nothing more about it. 

By the time you’re done eating, you and Ari are in your room, Ari is currently deciding which dress she likes more. You watch her as she switches between dresses, each hovering over her body as she tilts her head to the side in question. “Which looks better on me?” she asks you, her eyes meeting yours through the closet mirror. 

“Why are you dressing up? Isn’t it just a party upstairs?” you question. 

“It is just a party upstairs, but it’s a party where I plan to find a boyfriend. A better one than my ex,” she says. “Now which one do you think looks better?”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “The black one. It makes your hair stand out compared to the red one.”  

She smiles at you. “I knew I could trust your opinion.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a fashion designer, and it’s common sense.” 

“Either way, you’re the expert.” Ari walks to the bathroom door in the corner of the room next to the sink. She gives a quick knock before entering the bathroom. You’ve known her for three years now, and you still find it funny how the two of you change in the shared bathroom rather than in front of each other. You guess it was a habit by now. 

A minute or so later, Ari comes out of the bathroom wearing the black dress you picked out. It’s a form-fitting dress, the straps as big as your index finger. The dress fits her curves perfectly, showing all that she has to give. Sometimes you wish you had her confidence in wearing such a dress, but then again you’re perfectly fine in your seaweed green sweats and big, black shirt that can pass as a dress. 

“And you’re sure that if you bend over, nothing will show?” you ask in concern, staring down at how short the dress was. 

“I’ve bent over quite a few times, so no, nothing will be revealed.” She glances at you as she slips on her heels. “Would you like to confirm?”

You shake your head. “I trust you.” Ari does a quick lookover in the mirror before grabbing her room key and phone. “Have fun, and be safe,” you tell her as she opens the door. 

“Don’t work too hard on your camera,” she says before leaving you alone in the room. 

You can hear the clicks of her heels against the floor until you can no longer hear her. Stretching your arms out, you stare at the camera that lies on your desk. You honestly don’t want to work on it. At least, not tonight when you’re already in bed and all you have to do is switch off the light and close your eyes. You think for a second or two before finally deciding to just go to sleep. Today has been a long day of unpacking, and going to sleep before having to wake up to go to some mandatory meeting sounds a lot better with each passing second.

Switching the light off next to your bed, you get under your covers and lie there in silence, counting sheep. So much has happened today, and the one that repeats in your head the most is that Yoongi is your neighbor. 

Yoongi. The guy you’ve had a crush on for three years now is your neighbor. That means a possible opportunity to talk to him. Especially now that Hoseok seems to want to be friends, maybe you’ll see Yoongi a lot more now. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a light tapping sound on the wall next to you. It’s a rhythmic tapping sound. Then slowly, ever so slowly, the light tapping turns louder and harder, and with that loud pounding sound, a girl's voice can be heard. 

You lie in bed frozen. 

“I just don’t want your feelings to get hurt if they are true.”

[buckys-other-punk]

Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all

A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅

A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.

[Y/B/N = your blog name]

As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3

Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick. 

After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.

*across town*

“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.

“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.

“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.

“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.

“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.

“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.

“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.

“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.

“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.

“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.

“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.

“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.

“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.

“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”

“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend. 

“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.

“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’ 

“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.

“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.

“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.

“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.

“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.

“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony. 

“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.

*later that evening*

After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.

*one week later*

Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.

Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!

Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.

Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.

Seb: okay okay I will

Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am

Seb: fine

Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.

(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)

Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!

Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...

Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you

Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do

Seb: whatever I’ll let you go

Mackie: alright. bye lover boy 

Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.

*the next morning/later that day*

Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”

Y/N’s POV

You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.

sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)

You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.

y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.

sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.

y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.

sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.

y/b/n: thank you Carter <3

sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?

y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US

sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)

*a couple weeks later*

You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant. 

y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend. 

sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?

y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!

sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too 

y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?

Seb’s POV

Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.

sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!

y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over. 

sebstan_fan: alright have fun 

y/b/n: <3

Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself. 

“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.

“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.

“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.

“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.

“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. “Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.” 

Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.

*the next day*

y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.

sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)

y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.

sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha

y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol

sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!

y/b/n: what like in person?

sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!

y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...

Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”

sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?

y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D

sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?

y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...

Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!

y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3

“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.

*Saturday*

You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside. 

“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.

“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.

“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.

“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.

“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.

“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.

“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.

“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.

“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.

“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.

“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.

“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”

“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you. 

“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.

“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.

“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.

“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.

“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.

“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.

“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.

“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.

“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing. 

“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.

“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.

“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.

“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath. 

Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?” 

“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.

“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.

“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.

“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.

“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.

“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.

A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince​ @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​ @princess76179​ @anbrax5553​ @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes​ @miraclesoflove​ @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie​ @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom​ @thefallenbibliophilequote

^please lemme know if you wanna be added to future works or removed for tags^

[scabopolis]

Omg congrats on 600 followers! Honestly any fake dating with Jonah x Amy would be amazing, although I love number 44 and/or 48 on your Google Docs <333

This is my first Jonah x Amy fic and I offer two caveats: 1) I’m still not sure if there is a particular vibe people who read for this pairing preferring, so...here we are, and 2) I have only made it through 4x12 of Superstore but am pretty familiar w/ what happens the rest of the series. 

Prompt: “You know we’re not actually dating, so why did you propose to me in front of my family?” / “I’m sorry, I panicked.” --- Title: the scene of the complication Fandom: Superstore Pairing: Jonah/Amy Other Characters: My crippling insecurity writing for a new fandom, sleep soft mornings, dumbs being dumb (but, like in a cute way) Additional Tags: friends to lovers (or idiots to friends to lovers??), fake dating shenanigans, alternative universe where Amy’s HS pregnancy test was negative and she and Jonah met in college Word Count: ~2,100 ---

It started with a chance meeting ten years ago, and somehow it’s brought Amy Sosa here: awake in her childhood room with Jonah Simms beside her, sleeping off upwards of half a dozen tequila shots. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew that day they met in the lecture hall that Jonah was a person who would make her life exceedingly more complicated. 

And ten years later, here they are, practically leaving complicated behind in the rear view mirror. 

(“What are two hopes and one fear you have for your first lecture on your first day of college?” the guy sitting to her right asks. 

Amy doesn’t answer at first but this stranger just waits for her, all blinking, bright eyes and freshman eagerness. It’s barely morning. Is this her life now? 

“Hope one,” she says, holding up a finger, “that I’d sit next to someone quiet. Hope two,” she holds up another, “that no one would talk to me before I managed to find coffee.” She holds up a third finger. “And this moment right here is what I feared.” 

For some reason, her shortness delights him. His smile is open and affectionate, and he nods in appreciation. 

“Noted.” 

And Amy fully intends to never speak to this wide-eyed panda boy ever again, but then their General Psychology professor informs the class that the person they’re sitting next to will be their assignment partner for the semester. 

The next lecture her partner – his name is Jonah, she learns – brings her a cup of coffee and doesn’t speak a word until she takes a long sip. 

Complicated.)

Jonah snuffles in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly. His hair is doing that thing it does when he’s hot or drunk or has run a hand through it too many times, where a single lock of hair hangs in the middle of his forehead. Amy resists the very real urge to brush it away. Because, yeah, she has those kinds of thoughts a lot and they also make things complicated. They’re friends. Maybe even best-friends, but definitely not ‘tenderly brush a lock of your hair away’ friends. 

Do those kinds of friends even exist? 

Jonah stirs again, and now that it’s clear he’s actually waking up, Amy reaches for her phone and opens Candy Crush. The last thing she needs is to get caught staring at him like some weird stalker.

“Oh, god,” he groans, his voice scratchy. He stretches out with another groan, his foot bumping against Amy’s as he does. Rather than move away, he kind of just rests it there on top of hers. And this is something she is all too familiar with. Drunk and/or hungover Jonah is yet another complication. More accurately, his propensity to cuddle indiscriminately is a very real complication. 

“I need—” Amy reaches for the glass of water on her night stand and hands it to Jonah, stopping him mid-thought. “Do you have—?” She hands him two ibuprofen. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” She looks back at her phone. 

Jonah swallows the two pills and drinks the entire glass of water, and then lays back down, curling slightly into Amy’s side.  

“I made so many mistakes last night,” he says.

“I’m aware. As are your 80 Instagram followers.” 

“I liveblogged it?” 

“And tagged everything with the hashtag ‘best noche ever.’” He groans again and turns his face into Amy’s side. She sets her phone back on the nightstand. “What got into you?” 

“Your dad is intimidating.” 

“My dad?” 

“Yes. Your dad. And then he and your brother kept pouring me shots—” 

“I knew this had Eric’s fingerprints all over it.” 

“Well, it was kind of my fault, too.” 

She frowns. “What do you mean?” Jonah doesn’t answer and Amy kicks him under the covers. He looks up at her. His eyes are red-rimmed but also so sleepy and soft. Complicated. “Jonah.” 

“They kept asking me questions. About you and me. And I was so worried I’d say something wrong, I kept taking shots to avoid answering.”

“You could have found me.” 

“I know, but—” he trails off. 

“But what?”

“I want them to like me.” 

“Oh, Jonah.” She gives in and brushes the lock of hair off his forehead, and he looks up at her. “They’ve known you for 10 years. They’re never going to like you.” 

“Thanks, I feel so much better.” 

“I do have one more question.” 

“Okay.”

“You know we’re not actually dating. Right?” 

He closes his eyes and nods. “No. Yeah. I know.” 

“So why did you propose to me in front of my family?” 

“I panicked.”

“Panicked?” 

“Your dad asked what my intentions were, and there were just so many shots. 

“And that’s why you shouted ‘I intend to marry her!’?” 

Jonah flips the comforter over his head. “I just got wrapped up in it all.” His words are muffled from under the comforter.

She’s glad for the moment of respite, with Jonah unable to see her. If Amy didn’t want things to careen so off track, she probably shouldn’t have agreed to let him come to her dad’s retirement party as her fake boyfriend. 

(“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jonah says, spooning more cashew chicken onto his plate. “You don’t still have feelings for Adam, do you?” 

“No. No. God no,” she says. “Absolutely not.” 

“Alright. I’m clear on the no.” 

“It’s just the last time I saw him— Well, you know.” 

“I recall, yes.” 

And he does. Jonah knows all about Amy’s high school boyfriend. The one she liked but never quite loved. The one she broke up with when the pregnancy test came back negative. The one she slept with again the summer after their senior year of college. 

(An event that occurred in no small part because Jonah was dating Mindy and the two of them were talking about moving in together. Maybe moving to the west coast together and Amy realized there was a very real possibility she was going to be left behind. 

Jonah doesn’t know that part of the story.) 

Adam is also the guy who thought having sex in her childhood bedroom meant Amy wanted to get back together. He’s the guy bringing his very beautiful fiancée to her dad’s retirement party. Because he’s also somehow the guy who still helps her dad with home improvement projects. And Amy is just Amy – the one who doesn’t visit St. Louis enough, and is using her very expensive liberal arts degree to work as a survey researcher for Cloud9, meaning she’s basically paid to manipulate shoppers. 

And, not that it should matter, but she’s also very single. Has been for a while now. 

She mostly blames the man stealing chow mein from her plate for that. She blocks Jonah’s chopsticks with hers, and a piece of cabbage goes flying. 

“Stop that,” she says. 

“You’re not eating it.” 

“I’m too annoyed to eat.” 

“If you only ate when you weren’t annoyed you’d starve.” 

“I hate you.” 

She pushes the chow mein around her plate. God, when she thinks about it, this really is Jonah’s fault. If she could just find a way to get over this stupid, dumb, little crush that has creeped up – without her permission, mind you! – then maybe she could actually—

“I could do it,” Jonah says, interrupting her thought spiral. 

“Do what?” 

“Go with you to your dad’s retirement party. Be your fake boyfriend.” 

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a great idea. Besides, I am very close to getting your dad to like me.” 

“He’ll never like you.” 

“It’s not that I didn’t like the painting—” 

“—How would this even work?” she asks, cutting him off. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think we act like we normally do, but maybe you can hold my hand and be nice to me.” 

“Eww.” 

Jonah smiles around a large bite of cashew chicken. She really needs to stop hanging out with him so much – he’s become immune to her insults. It’s rude. 

And him as her fake boyfriend is a terrible idea. Truly awful. If Amy is looking to get over her crush and make things between her and Jonah less complicated, there are better ways to do it. 

Except. 

Except she kind of wants to. 

“Okay. Let’s do it,” she says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” she says decisively. “But if you try and kiss me, I’ll cut your lips off.” 

“That seems like a proportionate response.”)

“So, to be clear, I told you kissing wasn’t allowed, and you thought that left proposals on the table?” 

He groans again from under the comforter. It’s a little sad and a lot pathetic. Poor guy. 

She pats the comforter in the area of what she hopes is his shoulder. As annoyed as she is at having to untangle these threads, it’s not his fault. Not really. She knows her family is relentless. Amy slides down and flips the comforter over her head as well. 

Jonah rolls over onto his side to face her. Amy does the same. 

“It was better than Adam’s proposal.”

“Adam proposed?” 

Amy nods. “Ish. If I remember correctly he said, ‘I’ll marry you if I have to.’”

“Yikes.” 

“Right?” It’s cozy under this blanket. Intimate even. “You did say some nice things. Even if they came out kind of slurred.” 

“Amy—”

“Sexy, huh?” 

“I really didn’t mean to shout that to all of your dad’s—”

“Because it’s not true?” 

“No!” Jonah winces and Amy isn’t sure if it’s ‘I have a hangover’ induced or ‘I am revealing too much’ induced. “It’s true. Of course it’s true. You are very, you know.” 

“Sexy on a completely objective level? Or, are you saying that you, yourself, Jonah Simms, think I’m sexy?” Jonah goes completely still. Amy isn’t even sure he’s breathing. It’s entirely uncharacteristic and a little unnerving. She pokes his cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Big time, yeah.” 

That does enough to break the tension under their blanket enclave, both of them laughing, at first awkwardly and then more genuine. Once they stop to catch their breath, Amy notices they’ve shifted closer together. 

This would be the perfect moment to flee from the scene of the complication. But the complications don’t seem so terrible at this specific moment. She blames that lock of hair of his.

“How long have you held this opinion?” Jonah frowns at Amy’s question. “Regarding my sexiness?” she clarifies. 

“Amy—”

“What?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I just want to—”

“Really? You really want to have this conversation?” 

Jonah stresses the ‘you’ and Amy knows why he does. There isn’t a topic or feeling that is off-limits to Jonah – he’d happily discuss every feeling he’s ever had. It’s her. It’s always her. 

Their faces are so close they’re practically sharing the same pillow. It takes no effort at all for Amy to close the distance between them, lightly brushing her lips against his. As quick as it began it’s over, and even in the dim light under the comforter, Amy can see Jonah’s eyes blown wide. She’s sure she looks just as shocked and she’s the one who did it.  

“You said if I kissed you you’d cut off my lips.”

“Which is why I kissed you.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Makes sense.” Jonah taps out a slow but erratic rhythm against the side of his leg. She just knows he’s trying to stop himself from verbalizing every single thought in his head. “To be clear, was that a friendship kiss, or—” 

So Amy kisses him again. This time Jonah recovers quickly from his shock, winding a hand into her hair, his palm cupping the back of her head. It’s just unbelievably good. 

“Okay,” Jonah says, his voice unsteady as he pulls away. “That answers that.” He traces her jaw with his thumb. “Any chance we could do it some more?” 

Amy rolls onto her back, putting some distance between them. “I don’t think so.” 

“Wait. What?” 

“Your breath is awful.” 

Jonah breathes into his hand and sniffs it to confirm. “What if I brush my teeth?” 

Amy sighs, long and exasperated. “I suppose that would be—”

Jonah is out of the bed in seconds, scrambling for his overnight bag, and Amy presses her lips together to hide her smile. From the way Jonah smiles, soft and delighted as he backs out of the room, she isn’t fooling anyone. 

So far past the point of complicated, she thinks, her heart still racing. But then again, maybe complications that make her feel like this are okay.

[aquatik]

history in the making

pairing- atsumu miya x reader

word count- 1500

genre- fluff

fem!reader

history isn’t a common class many people enjoy. sure, they might not hate it, but it’s certainly not their number one subject. you quite happen to enjoy the subject. you found it entertaining how the study of the past occurred. how viewpoints have changed, or overall how different the past is from your now present. this current semester, your curriculum was starting to learn about american history. this you found exciting since it was different than what you were used to. to make sure everyone was paying attention to the last few chapters the teacher briefly touched on, you were put into pairs to present a certain topic of the chapters you had gone over. you had gotten the early development of the american government, dating back to the declaration of independence, the first president, etc. you were given a couple of main questions to answer then you had to make a presentation on the whole topic as if teaching it to the class.

this was a relatively difficult project concerning you and your partner were responsible for teaching the class on the subject. especially since you had gotten mr. ’head empty, only setting’, as you like to call him. your partner was miya atsumu. you could still feel the glares of the angry fangirls on your back, but you chose to ignore it.

miya atsumu, you both weren’t exactly the closest but you would like to consider you were more than strangers. perhaps friends? you both sat next to each other in your classes you would ask for the page number, he would ask for notes, etc. you had noticed throughout the time he had a dislike towards history. when you both got assigned partners you couldn’t help but notice how his then bored expression now became a little less bored. he turned toward you and gave you a small thumbs up. you had honestly found it adorable. well, you had until you could swear you heard most of the girls in your class start to snarl- wait was that a growl?

sighing, you shift your body forward returning your full attention to your teacher. well as much of it as you could with the two distractions- miya atsumu and now his fangirls. sure you had to admit to yourself that he was quite attractive. would you admit that to his face is another question.

“class, remember this is due in two weeks. miya, l/n, stay for a couple of minutes.”

“sensei, is something wrong?”

“not at all, i just wanted to say you guys are taking on the longest section. remember to manage your time correctly.”

“right, thank you!” you said as the golden blonde and you walked out of the classroom.

“finaally out of that class,” he said while stretching his arms.

“when are you free?”

“huh?”

“what do you mean ‘huh?’ i’m asking when you’re free for the project. you heard sensei, it’s the longest one in the class. it’s not something you can leave for the last minute you know?”

the older twin had stared at you, almost dumbfounded. his expression screamed ‘project? me? what, when? what about volleyball?’

“let me put this into simpler terms for you.” you had said, sighing into your hand.

“when..are..you..not..playing..volleyball..” you said slowly, trying to make the words sink into the setter like he was a sponge absorbing water.

“you see, i am playing every day!” atsumu says with a dumb, yet you had found adorable smile before smacking him.

“don’t give me that crap miya. it’s called a partner assignment for a reason. and no, don’t try that ‘i can present’ excuse on me miya. you need to know the lesson and with the number of volleyballs you draw in your notebook every class i doubt you know it.”

“yer’ so mean and for what l/n-chan.”

“it’s not mean it’s being a realist.”

“okay okay fine, i have a general idea but not the best.”

“great, now your brain is working,” you said with a slight smile. to another person, it might have seemed rude but this was your guy’ es normal.

“but it is true i have volleyball everyday. i have about an hour before practice every friday.”

“hmm, that won’t do...it’s too much material to cover in an hour.” you had said tapping your arm, a habit you had created.

“alright, the best way i can see us doing this quickly and correctly while taking away less time from your sport is one day you will need to skip practice altogether.”

“damn really?”

“yeah, sorry about that. but i think we can spend about maybe two hours, four being the max in the library doing research and answering the questions, and then heading to one of our houses to create the presentation. the atmosphere of a library can get exhausting, and i believe it’s the easiest and most efficient course of action. we could do it this friday so you miss a little bit less practice.”

“i hate having to miss practice, but it is what it is ain’t it?” he had said raking his hand through his hair.

“yeah, let’s do it this friday. i honestly didn’t expect you to want to consider my practice.”

“it’s fine so this friday-“ you had said before getting cut off.

“tsumu, your going to be late!”

“shut up i’ll be fine samu! here, just text me later okay?” he said while handing you his number while bidding you farewell and a small ‘see ya tomorrow!’

•

•

•

“ready to go miya?” you asked as you slung your bookbag onto your shoulder.

“atsumu.”

“what?”

“call me atsumu, it’s easier when we’re around samu anyways,” he said once again with the signature thumbs-up you both shared.

“alright then atsumu.,” you said, the word seeming foreign as it rolled off your tongue. not to mention the creeping blush appearing.

“what’s so weird about it y/n-chan? we’re friends ain’t we?” he said, facing you while walking, almost tripping in the process.

“y-yeah.” you had said, stuttering since you were still laughing at him for almost falling backwards.

“atsumu! you’re going to be late for practice,” his younger twin shouted at him. along him was suna and kita waiting for the golden blond to join them.”

“sorry! i have a project to complete!” he shouted at the trio.

“you? not going to practice what is tha- ohhh i get it.”

“well good on you prioritizing your grades miya, see you later,” kita said as he dragged the gray-haired miya and suna by the ear before they made fun of him.

“what was that about atsumu?” you had asked, pivoting to face atsumu face to face.

“who knows, anyways let’s go.”

•

•

•

“huh? why is this so complicated!” atsumu exclaimed as he banged his head against the written on table in the library.

“atsumu, it isn’t that difficult,” you had said with an awkward laugh. you guys had gotten all of your research for the presentation and decided to leave the questions for last.

“yeah, easy for you to say y/n-chan, yer smart.”

“anything but that.”

”sure.”

“but really,” atsumu started. “why do we need to know about the first president of the united states? the question is ‘why did george washington know he was setting a precedent and how did this affect how he governed?’ what does precedent even mean?” atsumu asked.

“precedent means an action or event that sets a guide or example for similar events in the future.”

“but still, i don’t think it’s that important. setting a precedent and all,” he said

“really? that’s funny..” you said trailing off.

“hmm? why do you think that,” he asked, subconsciously leaning forward.

“well, it’s just ironic to me,” you said looking up, as if asking for permission to keep talking. like reading your mind he nods his head.

“i mean, i just feel- no scratch that. i know you are going to set a precedent. i mean look at you! haven’t you seen how great of a setter you are? atsumu, you’re going to be one of the best setters this world has seen! atsumu, you’re going to set an example of what a setter should be. you’re going down in the history. i’m so lucky to be able to see history in the making right in front of me..” you said, trailing off embarrassed at your sudden outburst.

“you really think that..?” he said, dumbfounded. slowly going back to his original position from before he leaned forward. now a dumb, lovestruck smile and slight blush adorned the setters face. not that you knew of course. you lightly nodded before you two continued to work.

“atsumu?”

“yeah?”

“george washington knew he was setting a precedent since he knew he was going to be an example for future presidents. he knew he would become an important figure in history, which made him carefully chose his actions while governing. that’s the answer.”

closing note: the actual historical information can very well be wrong i am going off my memory

general taglist is open, send in an ask :)

general taglist- @drabblily @bellesowl @miki-snake @newfriendjen

[everybodyscupoftea]

born to run

isaac lahey x reader

running was never your favorite activity, but sometimes it was worth it

probably going to do this like my other series where i just write things in random order over the course of the friendship and relationship

you can read the first part, chemistry, here

There was a running trail near your apartment that you liked to use, normally going evenings you didn’t work to tire yourself out before bed. Until one day, the couple you babysat for scheduled a date night on one of your running nights, so you decided to go in the morning.

To your (pleasant) surprise, there was someone else on the usually abandoned trail. Isaac, headphones in and dressed down for once, passed you running in the opposite direction. He nodded, smiling slightly, but neither of you stopped.

The classes the two of you had together had ended, and with two very different majors, it was unlikely you’d ever have another together. He still texted you sometimes, but it wasn’t as frequent, and quite honestly, you really missed him.

-

“Would it be totally insane for me to start waking up early to run in the mornings?” you asked your sister later that day over the phone.

She laughed, “Go get your man.”

You sighed, leaning back on your pillows, and whined, “I don’t even like running that much. But, dude, he was in running leggings. How the fuck do I pass that up?”

“Wait what does he look like?”

“I’ll send you something from his Instagram.”

Your sister went silent a few seconds before making an intrigued noise, “Wait, he’s hot, holy fuck.”

“I know right!”

“You managed to study with him without making a fool of yourself for an entire semester, I’m kind of impressed,” she told you, a note of surprise in her tone.

“I have some social skills, Jesus.”

“The fact that you aren’t dating him despite liking him says otherwise.”

“You know, I don’t need any attitude from you, you’re just as single as me.”

She laughed, “Fair enough, but hey, you should just text him.”

“I’m going to try the running thing first, I think.”

Your sister sighed, and you decided to be the bigger person and ignore it.

-

What you didn’t realize was that Isaac was having a near identical conversation with his friends that night too.

“I don’t normally run that trail but I got bored of the old one,” he hugged a throw pillow to his chest.

Stiles made a noise from the floor, “Creep.”

“It’s not creepy,” Isaac defended, “it’s a public trail!”

“You don’t even know if she runs it normally,” Stiles added.

“Dude,” Scott interrupted, “let him dream.”

Isaac huffed and threw the pillow at Scott’s head, “Don’t be a dick.”

Scott made an offended noise and rubbed his forehead before throwing it back, “I’m defending you!”

Picking the pillow up, Isaac threw it at Stiles, “And you be nice to me too.”

“You don’t even like running that much!” Stiles threw it back.

Isaac grimaced, “The sacrifices one must make.”

“Maybe just text her,” Scott gently suggested.

“No, I think this is a better idea.”

Scott and Stiles exchanged exasperated looks.

-

When your alarm went off the next morning to get up in time for a full run, you almost said fuck Isaac, fuck running, and went back to sleep, but the prospect of seeing Isaac again eventually overpowered and dragged your sorry ass out of bed.

There weren’t any other cars there when you parked and got out to start your run. You sighed and stretched a little before taking off anyway. May as well since you’d gotten up and gotten dressed. Your breath fogged in the cold morning air, and it was actually pretty peaceful.

You’d gone probably about a mile when you started to hear footsteps in front of you. It wasn’t long before Isaac appeared in front of you, running the opposite direction again. You tried to regulate your breathing a little to make it seem like you weren’t struggling as much as you were.

He made eye contact with you as you passed and nodded at you, lips curving into a small smile. Your heart jumped, which honestly could’ve been from struggling to breathe. When you reached the parking lot, you hunched over, hands on your knees, and muttered to yourself, “At least I’ll be in shape soon.”

-

“I’m not sure it’s worth it,” you admitted to your sister one night over the phone.

She hummed thoughtfully, “Has he still not texted you?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the p, “and I’m so tired of waking up early.”

“Maybe you should just text him first.”

“Nah, I’m going to do the running thing for at least one more week and see.”

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Honestly, my calves look fantastic.”

Your sister snorted, “I cannot believe you,” and after a few seconds of silence amended, “well actually I can. But still, I say again, ridiculous.”

-

“Dude, drink with us,” Stiles urged, pushing a beer in Isaac’s direction.

Isaac wrinkled his nose, “Nah, I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“I cannot believe you’d rather run past a girl in the woods at 6:00 a.m. than drink with your roommates,” Stiles huffed.

“And friends,” Scott added from the couch.

Stiles motioned toward Scott, “And friends,” he agreed.

“Maybe I just like running.”

“No one likes running that much.”

“Well, honestly, my stamina has never been better, so can’t complain.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “One beer, Isaac.”

“Kinda tired actually, might just go to bed.”

-

That was going to be the last week you told yourself, 6 a.m. runs were just not worth it. Your sister texted you every day asking for an update, calling you a coward repeatedly when you had nothing new to report.

Friday morning you decided to finally do something. That way if he said no, you’d made it through the week, and you could go back to running in the evening where you wouldn’t have to see him anymore. It seemed foolproof.

Until you got to the parking lot and were sitting in your car. Both hands gripping the steering wheel nervously, you tried to breathe. You were there earlier than normal, to give yourself time to get hyped up enough to actually do something.

“Ok bitch, you can do it.”

And then, “You’re going to ask him out and he’s going to say yes. And if he doesn’t, you’re going to run away with your newly built speed and strength.”

When the usual time came, you got out of the car and started running. A little earlier than normal, you started to hear footsteps, and you started to panic. You’d planned out exactly where you were going to stop him and suddenly, he’d gotten to you faster? What the fuck.

Isaac finally came into view and you slowed. To your shock, he was slowing down too, and your eyes widened as he pulled a headphone out with a smile, “Morning.”

“Oh, um, morning.”

“Fancy seeing you here,” he joked, hands on his hips.

You felt like you were struggling to keep up, “Yeah, total coincidence.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Isaac started, rubbing his palms on his sweatpants, “would you be interested in accompanying me to breakfast after you finish running?”

“That would be great.”

His face lit up, “Great. I’ll text you?”

“Great,” you parroted.

“Great,” he responded and then cringed, smiling sheepishly, “I mean, good, yeah, sounds good.”

[chocojjk]

Hyunjin’s Playlist

summary: college student! hyunjin x college! student reader; strangers to lovers?

words: 5.2k

a/n: Hi, I meant to upload this a lot earlier however I was met with tons of writers block along the way. I wrote this without having an actual plot prepared lmao. But anyways, its done so I hope someone enjoys reading this :)

all songs used are songs that hyunjin has played on vlive but please keep in mind that the way the songs are portrayed are based off of my own interpretations. i am in no way speaking for hyunjin :) 

one.

we are often attracted to instruments that mirror our own identity. we find comfort in knowing that we aren’t alone, that somewhere out there, someone is feeling the same exact way. they say a person can tell a lot about another based on their playlist. songs become a portrayal of one’s feelings and experiences. through someone’s music, you can tell what kind of person they are.

“Let me see your playlist.”

“What?” the boy responded, curious as to why you chose that as your conversation starter. nonetheless, he unlocks his phone and opens his spotify app, showing you the songs that have definitely left a mark on his heart. 

Places We Won’t Walk - Bruno Major 

A blissful song with a hint of sadness. The boy in front of you treasures the small things in life, yet is saddened by the things that he cannot reach. 

When The Party’s Over - Billie Eilish 

He’s put up a wall. He’s not easily understood. He’s aware that he can hurt others so he has made himself believe that he’d rather be alone. That he’s better off alone. 

Instagram - Dean

He’s lonely. He often compares himself to those around him, wondering why he isn’t living the same luxurious life with all the same cheerful smiles that he sees on his feed. 

Please Love Me - Colde

He wants to be loved. “I like you,” you smiled, handing him back his phone, taking the seat next to him. 

-

“The weirdest thing happened to me today.”

Hyunjin started telling his friends about the girl he encountered on his first day of university. It’s been hours since it happened yet he couldn’t shake it out of his head.

“That’s it? She just asked to see your playlist?” Jisung exclaims, one eyebrow going up and a pout making its way on his face as he wore the same confused expression Hyunjin sported earlier that day. Hyunjin nods, answering the question that his friend had laid out for him. 

“Hmm, that is weird,” Felix agreed

“Maybe she’s actually a psychology major and it’s a project?” Seungmin suggested, trying to find the answers to the situation that has left them all clueless. 

“Orrr, maybe...just maybe...she thought you were cute?” Jeongin chuckled sarcastically

“But that’s literally all she said to me, she didn’t look at me after that anymore...when the class was over, she was gone without saying goodbye… s-she didn’t even tell me her name!” Hyunjin whines, sinking into his chair. 

“Why don’t you just ask her when you see her again?” their youngest retorts, tired of how his older friends were always overanalyzing things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

You frustrated the boy. The way you didn’t even know his name yet somehow you came to the conclusion that you liked him. The way that you spoke exactly 8 words to him but made it seem like you know every story he has to tell. You made him feel vulnerable and he did not like that. 

Not one bit. 

-

“What's your name?” Hyunjin plops his backpack down as he takes the seat next to yours, the same ones as last week. 

“Why does that matter?” you ask, clearly teasing the boy. 

Hyunjin plasters on the fakest smile he could muster up, not really having the patience for your mind games, “well, if you’re gonna continue to sit next to me then the least you could do is tell me your name.”

You bite back a smile, his music gave too much of him away. He was good at hiding his feelings though which is something you’ll give him credit for later on. Honestly, if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed the sour expression that was laced within the boy's tone of voice nor would you have noticed how he’s trying to show you that he’s unbothered by your words. 

Unluckily for the boy, your attention was focused solely on him. And so, you push his buttons some more, “technically, you were the one that sat next to me.”

Hyunjin stares at you, trying to read what was going on in your mind but all he could feel was the annoyance that was seeping through his body. 

God, you were annoying. 

“Slowly, hair will turn to gray,” you mumbled, a smirk forming its way on your lips. “What?” Hyunjin replied, a word he seems to be saying a lot ever since he met you. “If you keep thinking so hard, your hair might  turn to gray soon,” you joked yet it was clear to the both of you that it was only funny to you, the boy not catching on to the fact that you were phrasing a lyric from one of his songs.

“...my name is y/n,” you say, finally deciding to give the boy a break. 

“Alright class, I want to talk about your partner project, please find someone in the classroom to work with. This will be done throughout the semester and will be 30% of your overall grade so take it seriously,” the Professor informed, capturing both yours and Hyunjins attention.

“This project will be simple - it’s all about observing. Since this is a PSYCH class, I want you and your partner to pick 3 spots and just simply observe the people around you. For example, if you are at the cafe, what could the person in the corner with her eyebrows furrowed be wondering? Is she studying for an exam? Is she worried about a friend? There are tons of possibilities but I want you and your partner to jot down what you see and explain what you have observed.”

“That’s all for today, I’ll release you guys early so you can all have a head start,” she explained. 

You turn to the boy at your side, “so…you want to be partners?” 

-

Hyunjin doesn’t really know why he said yes, seeming he wasn’t comfortable with your presence at all. He convinces himself that he just didn’t want to go through the extra hassle of finding a partner when you were already available. Besides he could honestly care less, the only reason why he’s taking this class was for the extra units. After all, he was a music major. 

“How about here?” you suggested the grassy area in the middle of the campus. This part of the school was peaceful however it wasn’t quiet. Laughter and chatter from all the different kinds of groups filled up the morning air while the birds chirped along and occasionally, a squirrel or two would cause a bit of a ruckus. 

“We could grab some food and just sit down on the grass,” but the puzzled expression on the boy's face lead you to assume that he didn’t quite like the idea, “just so we would blend in more,” you added, hoping that it would be enough for the boy to say yes. 

“We don’t need to get food. We can just sit here and pretend we're talking, a lot of people around here are doing just that.” He was right. All you could do was nod and let out a sigh as the two of you sat next to each other, observing the scene ahead. You were hoping you could grab a quick bite during this since you still had classes for the rest of the day but that obviously wasn’t the case so you chose to just cover up your rumbling stomach with a cough or two here and there. 

“What do you think about him?” Hyunjin pointed at the boy that was sitting on the bench, flowers in his hand as he types away on his phone. 

“Hmm, I noticed his smile first, he’s practically beaming. He’s probably going to surprise his significant other. His legs bouncing up and down from excitement,” you chuckle, finding the anonymous boys’ action cute, “he’s probably texting them right now so they could meet up,” you concluded. You turn to Hyunjin, noticing his eyes slightly widen at your response. “What do you think?” you ask, slightly nudging him out of his trance.

“well... I think you’re right that he’s waiting for someone. But for me, he’s probably gonna confess to that person...uhmm, his ears are pink so he’s nervous… probably afraid of rejection. Because of this he’s probably texting a friend for advice,” he observed.

His answer didn’t surprise you, after all, you’ve already seen some of the deepest parts of him - even if he was unaware. On the other hand, he was in awe. Your guys’ answers were so different from the other. The way you viewed the scene ahead as something positive while his was more on the negative side. This sparked interest in him. But he breaks out of his thoughts as he hears your failed attempt to hide your growling stomach for the umpteenth time. 

He stands to his feet, grabbing you along with him. “Uhm, where are we going?”

He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs your hand and drags you along until you’ve arrived at the university’s main food court. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your stomach rumbling for the past twenty minutes,” he teases as you try to hide the blush that was making its way upon your cheeks. Now you were left speechless, nothing in the boy’s music has suggested that he had this sweet side to him. The side that would easily let someone in. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you admitted as Hyunjin handed you the sandwich he had ordered, one for you and one for him. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry that I came off strong on the first day,” you apologized, aware of the way that you’ve been pushing his buttons and leaving him uncomfortable. 

“Why did you ask for my playlist?” He was finally going to get an answer to the event that has left him stunned for the past week. 

“It’s just a thing I do,” you confess nonchalantly, “I check to see if  we have similar taste in music and from there, I come to a conclusion on whether or not you’re cool enough for me to talk to,” you lied. You weren’t going to admit to him that the reason you do it was to analyze him. I mean, what kind of person assumes a person’s whole character through their songs, right? 

He wouldn’t understand. 

Honestly, you don’t even really understand yourself why you do it. Maybe because you liked having the upper hand - that way, no one can hurt you. 

Hyunjin lets out a laugh and you feel a little guilty. “So, if my songs were bad, you wouldn’t talk to me?” he chuckles. 

“Yeah, no… not in a million years,” you joked, laughing along with him. 

“So what would be a bad song to you?” he questions, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I don't know, uhh-despacito?” you snicker

Honestly, there were no such things as bad songs. When it comes to songs, everyone is entitled to their own opinions but you had to play along with the little lie that you’ve already started.

“Hey! I like that song!” Hyunjin retorts, playfully throwing a crumpled up tissue paper along your direction, the two of you sharing a laugh as the small guilt you felt a while ago diminishes. It’s not like it’s going to hurt him anyways. You only see each other once a week and it was for class. Otherwise, you never see the brown haired boy on campus. You didn’t even know of his existence until you startled him with your question. 

The only reason he became your target was because the only empty seat was the one next to him. 

two. 

Second location. A frat party at the famous 3RACHA unit, who you’ve learned were good friends of Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin’s idea, convincing you that you guys will probably get a higher grade if you’ve incorporated various kinds of scenes. Plus, it was his first frat party and he didn’t want to miss it. You on the other hand was dreading this night ever since he brought it up in class last week. Parties weren’t your thing, you would much rather stay at home binging netflix shows, reading fanfictions, or watching compilations of your favorite kpop idols. But here you are now, rummaging the kitchen for something that didn’t contain alcohol as you’ve given up searching for the boy himself.  

“y/n!, heyy,” Hyunjin stumbles in, a red solo cup in his hand. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Can we please get this over with so I can leave,” you huffed, annoyed at the boy in front of you and the situation that you’ve found yourself in. 

“No.” He pouts before letting out a laugh, his eyes turning into little moons. 

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“Let’s have some fun first!” he beamed, dragging your hand out of the kitchen and into the party, ignoring your many protests. “Hyunjin, I didn’t come here for fun!” you sigh, arms crossing as you finally put a halt to the boys actions. 

“C’mon y/n, loosen up a little bit… you’re in the first party of the most popular frat in town, enjoy it while you can.” This time he holds his hand out, though his eyes had a tinge of red from the alcohol that was playing in his system, the sincerity in them couldn’t be missed. 

And so you do.

 You take his hand in yours as he shoots you one of his signature smiles. You party the night away with the boy at your side. He introduced you to a handful of new people but you forgot their names as soon as it came out of their mouths. 

-

You had way too much to drink but somehow you find yourself stumbling towards the park nearby, the boy's hand still in yours as he shares the story of how his best friend Jisung got chased by a duck and you couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. Nothing about your laugh was pretty and if you weren’t so drunk, the embarrassment would’ve probably creeped up by now but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care - not when Hyunjins laugh would mix in with yours and you guys would have to literally cling to each other for strength. 

“Tag, you’re it!” he breaks you out of your thoughts as he starts running away, his laughter still ringing in the air as you chase him. After a while, you give up, you were in no way, shape, or form, fast enough to catch the boy - especially with all the liquor bouncing around your stomach. 

You sit down on the grass, catching your breath, your laughter dying down as your back hits the grass, eyes focusing on the twinkling orbs above. A few seconds later, warmth fills up beside you, Hyunjin taking his place next to you, mirroring your actions. 

“We never observed a person,” you say chuckling, breaking the silence that quickly hung over the two of you. 

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, turning to you. Hyunjin takes this time to fully take in your appearance. No doubt in his mind, you are one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen. 

“Why don’t we, umm -,” he pauses, wondering to himself if this was going to be a good idea for him. 

“Why don’t we, what?” you reply quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as you turn to your side coming face to face with the boy himself. Your guys’ face were millimeters apart and the sudden feeling of his breathing being so close to you felt intoxicating. You dart your eyes down to his lips, thinking what it was like to feel them upon yours. 

Hyunjin lets out an awkward cough, breaking the tension in the air as he stares back up at the stars. “Why don’t we observe each other?” he suggests after his heartbeat finally calmed down. 

“Oh uhmm, o-okay,” you say, your voice faltering, pushing back your desire to kiss him. “You first,” you whisper, keeping your eyes locked into his features. 

“uhh, I think you’re wondering what the hell you’re doing with a boy you barely know at 3 in the morning. You don’t want me to notice that you’re actually really pissed at me for dragging you into this party and not getting any of our work done,”

The boy takes a pause as soon as he hears you giggle ‘hyunjin, you are so wrong,’ you think to yourself. 

“You’re the type to always get your shit done and you’ve probably already figured out everything you want in your life ever since you learned how to walk. You… you shouldn’t be wasting your time with someone like me,” he muttered, slowly turning to face you, this time a sad smile placed upon his lips. You sympathize with him, feeling sad with the way that he viewed himself. 

“Okay, uhm…you're anxious right now because you don’t know how i’ll react to your confessions. You’re the type of boy who doesn’t want to let anyone in but at the same time wants to know how it feels to be loved,” you sigh, the guilt you were feeling creeping in once again, slowly eating you up. Hyunjin grew tense under your observations. He hated how easily it is for you to read him when he thought that he was doing a decent job at keeping up with his facade. 

“You don’t notice the way others look at you because you’re too busy nitpicking your flaws. You didn’t notice how you were literally the life of the party back there. You didn’t notice the amount of girls practically begging for your attention…” you hesitate saying the last thing in your mind but as soon as you turned to him and saw the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help but let the words stumble out of your mouth, “you don’t notice how much I want to kiss you right now,” and with those words out in the open, he brings his hands up to your cheek, slowly placing a light kiss upon your rosy lips and you swear you’ve never tasted anything better. It was a quick kiss, leaving as soon as it came, but the mix of his cherry chapstick and the alcohol created a combination that left you wanting more. Leaning up, you kiss him again, his mouth moving perfectly in sync with yours, deepening the kiss that you find yourself getting more and more addicted to with every second that passes. 

Hyunjin pulls away first, his thoughts finally all coming together as the alcohol was starting to slowly leave his system. He looks at you, the fear evident in his eyes. He fucked up and he knows it. He shouldn’t have kissed you. You guys were friends and frankly, he liked your company. He can never be that guy who starts a relationship with someone. He was sure that he was incapable of love and could never give you what you wanted. You knew this, of course. You knew this from day one. 

“I’m no good for you,” he sighed, mumbling several apologies for the actions that he took. And you realize how truly scared he was. That the tough image he’s keeping up isn’t because he had to but because he truly believed that it was the right thing to do. 

“That’s okay Hyunjin, we can blame it on the alcohol,” you wished you didn’t have to but you knew yourself that you couldn’t let this get deeper than what it was now.

Hyunjin walks you back to your dorm room, making sure you were safe inside before he headed back to his own place. 

-quiet when I’m coming home, i’m all alone. 

three. 

Hyunjin saw too many relationships around him fail, starting from his own parents. For him, love was merely an illusion. A desire that people get caught up with not because they are in love but because they lust the idea of love. The idea of having someone there to hold, to laugh with, to share stories with - it was all bullshit to him because at the end of the story, someone always leaves. Someone always says goodbye. It wasn’t worth it. 

Not for him. 

But sometimes he’ll see a picture on instagram and wonder to himself, could those smiles be permanent? 

“Are you just gonna keep stalking her social media or are you gonna actually talk to her?” Jeongin breaks the boy out of his thoughts. 

“I’m not stalking her!” Hyunjin replies defensively, hiding the pink that was creeping upon his cheeks. 

“I’ve literally been here for the past 3 mins just looking at you scroll through her feed and you didn’t even notice,” the younger boy points out, teasing him. Ever since the night at the park, Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. He knew that the both of you agreed to just forget it but could he really forget something like that? You made him feel what he was scared of the most. You made him feel like he wanted to fall in love. The memory of your lips against his keeps him up at night, your laughter ringing in his ear while the warmth from your fingertips makes him feel like he’s completely losing it. 

How can he still feel you when you were nowhere near him? 

How did you get past his wall so quickly? 

And why, fuck, why does he want you in it? 

-

You, on the other hand, haven't made any effort to reach out either. He was right about you. You were a know-it-all. Ever since you were younger you knew that you wanted to help the people around you. You enjoyed listening to others’, letting them know that they are never alone and that they could always turn to you for advice or simply just if they needed someone to listen to them. You liked the idea of being someone’s safe haven - that’s why you want to be a psychologist. 

But this - the way the boy made you feel, the way he cluttered your every waking thought - this was something you didn’t plan. This was something you didn’t have the answers to. Grabbing your phone, you finally gain the courage to send the boy a text 

Hey, we still have one scenario left, any ideas? - y/n

Hyunjin reads the text, his heart suddenly doing somersaults in the air. ‘Hyunjin, stop.’ he warns himself. He knows that he wasn’t ready to see you and so he ignored it. Grabbing his backpack he shouts a quick, “I'm gonna go practice,” before heading out to the dance rooms to try and clear his head. 

-

umm, what do you think about going to the diner across town? - y/n 

You did it. You double texted. After several hours, the boy still hasn’t responded to your text so you decided to take manners in your own hands. But as soon as you pressed send, you felt pathetic. He’s most likely just busy and that’s why he hasn’t replied but you like to make yourself believe that you had more of an effect on him. 

You were about to scream into your pillow, feeling frustrated at the situation until your phone let out a small ding, indicating that you’ve received a new message. 

sure - hyunjin 

how does tomorrow at 6pm sound ? - y/n 

good - hyunjin

These one word answers were killing you. For someone who usually knows and can assume what’s about to happen beforehand, you were left clueless and that annoyed you.  

-

“Hey, am i late?” hyunjin takes the seat across from you. no, he wasn’t late. you just arrived way earlier than the time planned hoping to calm your nerves before having to face the boy who has settled himself into your mind. 

“What do you think of that girl over there?” you point at the girl who was sitting, laughing along with her group of friends.

“geez y/n, can’t we order something to eat first,” hyunjin jokes. He barely got there and you were already on top of it. typical, he thinks to himself. You let out a small smile, happy at the fact that the boy was teasing you. Honestly, you were afraid that his responses were going to be as bland as his text messages and it has been killing your thoughts the whole night. 

“ok ok,, my bad… let’s order first,” when your food arrived, you fell into a comfortable conversation. like the thoughts that the both of you have been struggling with never existed. but in the middle of the conversation, something clicked within you. 

You can‘t read him anymore and that scared you. 

“honestly i think this whole project is stupid,” hyunjin blurts out, capturing your attention. 

“hmm, why do you say that?”

“i just find it absolutely ridiculous to just judge someone based on one scenario, you know? like i bet all our guesses have been wrong so far,” he confesses and once again the guilt rushes to your heart and you were left speechless. 

“Like I really hate it when people judge others without getting to know them like who do you think you are? Do people who do that actually think they’re better or mightier?” Hyunjin continues and suddenly the space around you feels tight, your lungs struggling to find air. You were the type of person that Hyunjin would hate and that leaves an unsettling feeling in your stomach. 

Hyunjin notices this after a while of you not responding to him and just picking at your food. “y/n, you okay?” he says, eyes filled with worry and you can't help but let out a tear, quickly brushing it off as soon as it hit your cheek. You don’t deserve the way he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone that comes to hurt you. 

“Hyunjin...i’m sorry,” you let out quietly as you tried to stop the rest of your tears from water falling. Grabbing your bag, you ran out of the diner, leaving a very confused Hyunjin behind to wonder what you were apologizing for. 

four.

7 missed calls 

you don’t dare try to answer any of it. 

the thought of having to face the boy and explain the reasons for your apology hurts you knowing that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterwards. how do you even explain it to him? there is literally no plausible excuse: 

“hey yeah i’m the jerk that you hate because i judged your whole personality based off of five songs,”

“i only did it because i like superiority”

“it also helps me feel better about myself”

yeah. he’ll definitely hate you afterwards. and so you sulk in your room, letting out your frustrated cries, your blanket comforting you as the sound of your phone ringing filled the air. after the 12th call, the ringing finally stops and you feel like you can finally think until a knock on your dorm room brings you back to reality. 

“hey,” he sighs, your eyes immediately widening as you shut the door as quickly as you opened it. 

“y/n, come on!” hyunjin whines

“how did you know this was my room?” you yell through the door. 

“I asked around,” he shouts back “now can you let me in??”

You were frozen in place, hands gripped on your doorknob to make sure that he can’t come in. “Look, we don’t have to talk about what happened okay,” he starts, “but we do have a project due in 2 days and i would like to finish it...so please just ….. just let me in.” He finishes, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth once he comes face to face with the girl that has always been a puzzle to him. 

Entering your dorm room, you notice that the boy's hair is a bit disheveled and you wonder how many times he has let his hands run through them due to frustration. He’s doing his best to hide his furrowed eyebrows and keep a calm expression but you see through all of it. 

you’re doing it again. you think to yourself.  

“okay let’s just make up a scenario since we didn’t get one at the diner,” you suggest, finally breaking the silence that hung above the two of you. 

“why did you apologize?” hyunjin quietly asks, his gaze fixed strongly on you and you find yourself having to sit down due to the impact of his stare. 

“hyunjin…. you said we didn’t have to talk about it,” you responded, trying to change the subject. 

“I lied. I need to know the answers y/n. I need to know why you seem to see through my walls. I need to know how you dug a hole in my mind and stayed in it because I want you out. I don’t know what I’m feeling when it comes to you and I don’t like it.”

“How??? How can you see right through me?!”He frustratedly confesses, his voice getting louder with every question that leaves his mouth. 

“What?? are you a stalker??? Is that why you know?? have you been following me around ??”

“No!” you responded quickly, shutting down the assumptions that the boy has managed to come up with. 

“It’s your music.” you finally confess, your heart tightening as the words left your mouth, afraid of what’s to come next. 

Hyunjin stares at you, his mind finally connecting all the dots. The reason you asked for his playlist. The reason why you knew his stories and insecurities. All of it was because he gave you access to his music. And suddenly he felt bare. All his hiding, all the walls he put up, it was all useless when it came to you. 

“The last song in that playlist…” he starts but you finish the sentence for him, “please love me by colde,” your glassy eyes staring back up at him. 

“so, will you?” hyunjin asked, worry laced within his voice. 

“y-you’re not mad at me?” you stuttered, the boy's actions leaving your mind in a maze. he shakes his head. oddly enough, he didn’t feel any anger towards you. noticing that you were left in your thoughts to make sense of the situation at hand, he offers you a soft smile, “after knowing how troubled my mind was, you still stayed.”  

“i think i already do…” you confess, eyes fixated on him, “love you, that is,” you say mirroring the small smile that was on the boy’s face. 

At your confession, Hyunjin let’s out a shaky breath. 

“will you let me love you?” you ask him, a gentle tone laced within your voice, afraid of the answer to come. 

your eyes never breaking contact with his, you moved closer to him. hyunjins eyes darts down to your lips and suddenly the answer seemed so clear. 

love. 

the word that terrifies him the most. the thing that the boy has been swearing off ever since he was little. love was something hyunjin never understood but every time he looks at your eyes, every time he feels your warmth next to him, and now as your lips move in perfect sync with his, it all seems to make sense.

(a/n): this ending is so rushed and im not sure if im entirely happy with it but i really did not know what to do for the longest time. i was thinking of just scrapping the whole thing tbh but anyways....

feedback is always welcomed and my ask is always open :) 

thank you for reading! 

[mycomfortblanket]

About That Night

Chapter Two

“It’s Toph, right?” he asks, his eyes going back to their normal size and a small smile playing on his lips as if he can’t believe his good luck.

“Yeah, and you’re Aang.”

He smirks as he opens his notebook to a blank sheet, “Not surprised you remembered it. You said it plenty the other night.” The glare that Toph shoots him would normally disarm a normal person, but his grin only deepens.

The professor begins to pass out the syllabus to everyone while explaining what he expects from everyone for the semester, “And like I said, your deskmate is also going to be your project partner for the rest of the semester, so I do suggest you guys become buddies, or at least acquaintances.” He finishes passing out the packets and moves back to the front. Having the powerpoint finally pulled up, he begins to go through the schedule for the semester and makes sure they understand when certain tests are or when projects will begin.

Toph bites down on her lip to contain her groan at how she is stuck with this dude all semester. She really thought she had successfully snipped that relationship clean when she closed the door to his apartment undetected. What happened between them was amazing, but it had to end right there in his apartment and not go any further. Period.

Thankfully, Aang is quiet the rest of the time the professor goes over the syllabus, but sadly, that is short lived. “Okay class. So, to start off right, I would like you all to spend the next 15 minutes talking with your deskmate and getting to know each other a little bit.” Toph closes her eyes and takes a deep breath; this day is seriously going downhill fast.

“So, do you come here often?” Aang asks with a sly grin on his face.

“You can’t be fucking serious. A pickup line? Really?” Toph says. She turns to face him and rests her cheek on her fist. The way she stares at him normally makes  people uncomfortable, but he seems to be taking it in stride.

“Well, I’ve already gotten you into my bed so not much else to say,” he smirks at the eyeroll he gets out of her. Her cheeks are barely tinted pink with a blush, but the sight of it eggs him on.

“Right. Well, let’s get one thing straight before we continue this ‘partner’ thing. Me being in your bed, that was a one time thing. This,” she gestures in between the two of them, “is strictly school related.”

She jots down her number on the corner of his binder, “And I swear, if you text me ‘What’s up’, I will kill you- I know where you live. You’re not to text me unless it’s school related, got it?” She was really hoping her rude tone would wipe the smile off of his face, but he seriously doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, even though she said it very clearly.

“Right, well, here,” he grabs her arm and writes his number on her wrist, “is my number. Feel free to call me anytime,” he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Oh my god,” Toph groans and turns back to the front of the room, hoping for this class to end.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t text her until two weeks before their first project is due. Asking her if she is wanting to meet up to go over notes and work on the presentation together. The lack of flirting seemed a little suspicious to her, but nevertheless, she agreed and texted him her address.

Toph doesn’t know what she was expecting when he showed up, but him leaning against the door frame with a sultry smirk on his face wasn’t it. Rolling her eyes, she turns away from the door and walks back into the living room. She hears the door close behind her and footsteps that follow her.

Sitting down on the couch and pulling the laptop into her lap, she begins to pull up the rubric for the project and pulls out certain materials they may need. Aang sits on the floor directly next to her legs and his shoulder brushes against her knee everytime he moves.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.

“Getting my stuff out. What are you doing?” he replies innocently.

Toph rolls her eyes hard and pushes him away with her knee which just makes him laugh and move even closer to her. After a moment of getting stuff organized and setting up her computer, they begin on the project, neither of them talking much. The feeling of him against her leg distracts her more than she would like to admit.

They work nonstop for a few hours, only stopping to ask the other questions and once for Aang to go to the restroom. Around 6 pm, Aang stretches his arms up and groans a little as his back pops. Toph’s mouth goes dry at his groan; it was incredibly close to some of the noises she managed to ring out of him with the twist of her wrist the other night.

He stands up and walks around the coffee table and stands in the middle of the living room staring at her expectantly.

“What?” she asks, quickly averting her gaze hoping he didn’t notice her staring.

“You wanna take a break?” When she doesn’t reply, he groans and goes back around the coffee table and drops down onto the couch, resting his head against her shoulder. Having him this close, being able to smell him, is bringing back memories and she is finding her resolve slipping just slightly. She closes her eyes for a moment and steadies herself.

They sit there for a while longer, Aang’s head on her shoulder while he watches her type up her portion of the project. When she feels like she’s reached a stopping point, she rolls her shoulder trying to dislodge him, “Can you get off of me?”

“Oh, that’s the first time I’ve heard that. You were definitely saying something different the other night,” he recalls, laughing. He jumps away before her fist is able to make contact with his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get some food. We need fuel to keep this up,” he offers her his hand.

Toph hesitates for a moment, staring at his outstretched hand. She wonders if by accepting his proposal to go get food will give him the notion that his wooing is working. Deciding it would make a grand appearance, her stomach growl loudly and his smile only grows wider.

She sighs loudly and accepts his hand, standing up from the couch and together, they walk out of the apartment to go get some food.

They’re sitting across from each other at the nearest Panera waiting on their order to be called and Toph feels like it is super awkward. Aang on the other hand has kept up a steady one sided conversation. She looks at him with utter disbelief that he isn’t picking up the fact that she really doesn’t want to talk to him or get close to him in any way.

“Not to be rude or anything, but have you not picked up on the fact that I don’t want to be friends?” she asks, leaning onto her elbows that are resting on the table.

“Oh, yeah. I totally picked that up when we became project partners. But, one would say that I am pretty persistent at things I want.”

An employee comes and brings their food, effectively cutting off that conversation with a deep sigh from Toph. For the first time since they sat down, it’s quiet between them as they start to eat. “So, do you have a particular reason why you don’t want to be friends? Because, if I recall, you weren’t rushing to get out of my bed.”

She chokes on her food at that. Who the fuck- god, he is bold, “Jesus, what is wrong with you? People don’t just go around saying shit like that, you know? And why do I have to have a reason? I'm allowed to say I don’t want to be friends with someone,” she looks down at her sandwich when she says this. She doesn’t really have a reason, but the stress of more relationships- romantic or otherwise- sounds like stress that she doesn’t need at the moment. Looking back at him, she sees that he is staring at her with the utmost attention.

“I mean, I guess you don’t have to have a reason. But, there has to be one for us. We connected, in the physical, sexual, and educational sense. So, what would be the reason that you don’t want to be friends?”

“Besides the fact that it would be super awkward since we both saw each other naked and orgasm faces?”

“Yeah, besides that reason.”

Toph sips her drink and looks away from him and thinks for a better reason, but honestly coming up with anything other than ‘she doesn’t have time for a relationship’ which sounds incredibly stupid and cliche, “Because, I don’t want one.”

“It doesn’t have to be romantic,” he chirps.

“What makes you think that if I wanted a relationship with you, that it would be romantic? You’re awfully bold for someone who has no chance.”

“That’s the only reason I am so bold.”

Back at her place, they continue to work on the presentation, and again, there isn’t much conversation passed between them other than the project. It finally hits midnight, and Toph calls a quits, saying she can’t stand to look at another variable or table of covalent bonds.

She leans back into the couch and Aang climbs from his spot on the floor, cracking his back in the process and sits beside her, “So, buddy. When would you like to have this homework party again?”

She folds her arms across her chest and looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Why are you so persistent?”

Aang laughs a little, “Maybe I just deeply want our friendship?”

Snorting at his response, she says, “Bullshit.”

Laughing again, he replies, “Maybe I want to get you into my bed again? Or maybe, just maybe , I think we’re soulmates and are destined to spend eternity together.”

“Yeah, that’s a load of crud,” she pushes off that couch and goes into the kitchen and grabs one of the Naked Smoothies from her fridge and grabs one for him as well. “You got me into bed once, why do you think you could do it again?”

“Because, I am irresistibly smooth,” he says with a large grin.

Leaning against the counter, she crosses her arms, still holding onto both drinks, “There is no way in hell you would be able to get me into bed again.”

“You want to make a bet on that?”

“Stakes?”

“I get you into bed again by the time this project is due, and you have to go on a date with me. If I don’t, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the semester except to talk about the projects or something to do with class.”

Still leaning against the counter, Toph cocks her head to the side and studies him. She is sure she could win this bet; she’s so adamant about not getting into any new relationships in her life at the moment. But, she has been know to crumble when there is sex involved.

Against her better judgement, she sticks out her hand and confidently says, “Deal.”

Read the full story on Archive of Our Own

[faylor]

Faint

By @faylor for @peer-parker as part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark / Iron Dad

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Prompt: Peter over-works himself. - AKA Peter is REAL tired.

One week. One more week and finals would be over and done with. Then Peter could get some actual sleep. Between the constant studying every day, patrols every night, and interning for Mr. Stark, admittedly he wasn’t exactly getting the recommended eight hours of sleep at night. He was tired. Really tired. But he would never admit to it, at least not to your face. And he was pretty good at hiding it for the most part.

That is, until he accidentally dozed off in class. He couldn’t really help it though. That day’s chemistry lesson wasn’t anything new or exciting to him, so what would it hurt if he didn’t pay as much attention just this once?

“Mr. Parker?”

Peter’s head jerked upward at the sound of Mr. Harrington’s voice, his eyes immediately widening as he realized what had happened.

“Uh- I-“ he sputtered as his eyes focused on the board in the front of the room.

“As I was saying,” his teacher continued with a raised brow, “would you care to explain the name of the formula?”

Thinking quickly, Peter scanned the writings on the board, his gaze landing on said formula. “Um, it’s iron oxide. Or rust.” His voice wavered slightly with embarrassment as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Right,” Mr. Harrington said, clearing his throat. Peter quietly sighed in relief as his teacher continued with the lecture without another word to him.

Ugh, how could he be so stupid to let himself fall asleep in the middle of class? He’d never done it before, but god was he tired. Most of his classes this semester were more advanced, which hadn’t need an issue before, but trying to balance them with being Spider-Man had proven to be maybe just a bit too much on his plate at once.

“Hey,” Ned whispered from beside him, drawing his attention. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just... late night.” Peter shrugged. “I’ll explain later.”

And by that, he meant that he’d make up some story about patrolling super late and losing track of time, which wasn’t technically a lie. But he’d definitely leave out the part about it happening over the course of the past two weeks. Peter just didn’t like for people to worry about him. He was fine, really. Maybe he’d just have to sacrifice an hour or two a night on patrol until finals were over with. He could live with that. Maybe.

After school, Peter did his usual routine of homework and then studying, followed by dinner and more studying. By the time nine o’clock rolled around, he decided to retire his textbooks for the night and trade them in for his suit, which he slipped on before quietly escaping out his bedroom window.

It was only about an hour in on his patrol when his fatigue really started to hit him, but he figured all he needed was a short break. So he made his way to one of his favorite rooftops downtown and sat down on the ledge, letting his feet swing as he gazed out at the city. It was all in all a relaxing sight, which didn’t much help his state.

His head was all but spinning, and his limbs suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. His eyelids were fighting him to close, but he had to stay alert. He had to stay awake.

But sleep would be so nice, he thought. Maybe if he just took a short nap. He could have Karen wake him up and he’d be right back at it- No, he had to stay awake. He had to. But his eyes were beginning to betray him as they started to slip closed, and then he was out.

Something had suddenly jolted him awake, though - his senses practically screaming at him. His eyes flickered back and forth, widening as he saw the ledge he’d been sitting on getting further and further away. He was... falling?

“Shit!” Peter gasped. He had to think fast.

He quickly outstretched his arm, activating his web shooter toward the building. The relief of swinging away never came though. Instead, he felt himself hit the ground, hard. His back and head were immediately drowning in a wave of pain that made him groan with a strained voice, and that familiar feeling of heavy eyes quickly came back again. This time, he didn’t hesitate to give in to it.

The next thing Peter remembered was the feeling of floating. Was he still falling? No. He remembered hitting the ground. Or had he dreamt that? Was the whole thing a dream? Was he still just asleep on the rooftop? He really had hoped so. He hoped that he was fine. That he had just dozed off on the roof and he was just dreaming and that everything was okay.

That train of thought was entirely derailed as the faint yet distinct beeping of a heart monitor started to fill his ears. At about the same time, the back of his head began to ache, alongside practically the rest of his body. Okay, so he had definitely fallen, and he was definitely not dreaming. But where was he? And how the hell had he gotten there?

He fluttered his eyes open, his vision started to focus on his surroundings. He could tell he was in some sort of hospital room, but it definitely wasn’t a regular hospital. It was almost as if he knew, but his head was still spinning and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“And there he is,” an all too familiar voice sounded from his side. His head jerked toward the source as his brows furrowed.

“M-Mssr Stark?” Peter slurred, his eyes slightly widening.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” Mr. Stark asked, taking a small step toward him.

“I- My head...”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s gonna be sore for a bit, thanks to that lovely concussion you got from falling - what was it - ten stories?” His mentor raised a brow, his lips pressed into a fine line.

Peter’s face immediately shifted to a mixture of embarrassment, surprise, and guilt. He could tell Tony knew exactly what had happened last night. Wait, had it been last night? Or the day before. Peter could quite tell how long he’d been out. It honestly felt like days.

“Karen showed me everything, Pete.” He sighed, his expression turning to concern. “How much sleep are you getting at night?”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but the words never made it out. Instead, they were replaced with a sigh and a slight head shake. “I’m sorry...” he mumbled.

“Kid, listen,” Mr. Stark started, making his way over to Peter’s bedside. “I know I agreed to not spy on you and look through your suit recordings, but I wanted to figure out what was going on.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Karen told me you’ve been out patrolling until two in the morning sometimes. Wanna tell me why?”

Peter hesitated, a sigh sipping past his lips. “I- It’s just that- Finals are coming up and I’ve been kinda struggling with a couple of classes and I just wanted to make sure I did really good on the finals, you know? So I’ve been trying to study a lot more, which means I don’t get to patrol until later so I-“

“Take a breath, Pete,” Mr. Stark cut him off, a half amused smile on his face. “At least now I know why you’ve seemed so spaced out in the lab recently.”

“I- I wasn’t spaced out. Just... not as, uh, focused.” He gave his mentor a sheepish smile.

Mr. Stark hummed, an eyebrow slightly raised. “You don’t need to be working yourself that hard.”

“I know, I know... It’s just- I mean I’ve been trying to make sure I can do everything that I need to, and I guess I haven’t really been keeping track of time and-“ he sighed, his head slightly dropping as his fingers toyed with one another in his lap. “And I’m just trying to keep up with my responsibilities. I can’t just not be Spider-Man.” His tone turned dismal.

Somewhere in the back of Peter’s mind, he knew that he probably should’ve cut his patrols short for the time being and catch up on sleep, but he also knew that his guilt would be eating him away at the thought of Spider-Man not being there for his neck of the woods every day.

On the other hand, he should’ve known better. Getting about three or four hours of sleep at most over the past couple of weeks had definitely not been treating him well, and it only kept getting worse and worse. And now he knew the repercussions of that.

Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment, looking at Peter with a mixture of worry, yet with understanding.

“Hey,” he placed a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, prompting his attention. “I know I’m not exactly the poster child for proper sleep schedules, or time management for that matter... But Pete, you gotta realize that being responsible is also remembering to take care of yourself sometimes, too. Your finals are important, yeah. And being Spider-Man is, too. I get that. But you can’t keep over-working yourself and sacrificing sleep just so you can cram everything into your life at once. You’ve gotta take time for yourself, you know.”

Peter’s gaze found its way to his mentor, his head nodding a bit. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Pete.” He brushed a stray curl from Peter’s forehead. “And don’t feel like you can’t take a night off or two from being Spider-Baby if you need to.” A slight smirk formed on Mr. Stark’s features before it turned into a more genuine smile. “No more patrolling on nights you’re gonna be out past eleven, alright?”

Peter’s features formed a small smile of their own. “Fine.”

“Good.” Mr. Stark returned his smile. “Now you need to get some more actual rest, kiddo. You’ve got one nasty concussion to sleep off. Not to mention the cracked rib. And the major bruising-“

“I get it, I get it,” Peter laughed, playfully swatting a hand at him.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, kid.”

“Don’t wait up, Mr Stark.” He slightly smirked, his eyes already drifting closed. “I’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on...”

Tag List: @zissa93 @mala-sadas @romeoandjulietyouwish @justme--emily

If you would like to be on my tag list, please let me know! 😊

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 1

Word count: 2408

Debbie. Fucking Debbie.

Jesus Christ, why did it have to be Debbie and not Chris? I would take Chris over Debbie every day, at least he doesn’t judge me when I get my rent money in a few days late. I’m a poor college student paying the rent by herself, give me a break.

“What’s up?” I ask, swinging the front door to my apartment open.

“Hi Y/N,” Debbie sends me a fake smile. “I’m just here to remind you that your rent is due in a week.”

“I have it written down, Debbie.”

“Oh,” she actually appears to be shocked. Is this bitch serious? Does she really think that little of me? Well, I haven’t given her much faith to have in me, though... “Well, just don’t forget to give it to me or Chris.”

“I know.”

She gives me another fake smile. “Have a great night, Y/N.”

“Yep, bye.” I close my door, rolling my eyes at the judgemental, middle-aged woman. “Fucking bitch,” I whisper under my breath, making my way to the living room to take a seat on the couch.

Okay, I do see why she’s concerned, though. I have been turning my rent money in late over the past couple of months but that’s just because of my lack of employment. I’m struggling to find a job that’s flexible enough that will work with my class schedule since I’m taking more credits next semester than I ever have before. This means that I have to use the little money I have saved up for rent. That money’s running out fast, though, so I have to find a job right now.

I scroll through the list on Indeed, sighing at all of the minimum wage jobs. None of those will be able to help me afford my apartment and I can’t move even if I wanted to. Every apartment in Glendale is expensive as hell and this apartment is close enough to my college that I’m able to walk to class instead of having to spend money on a car or a bus pass.

I apply for a couple of jobs anyway, figuring that I could always pick up two minimum wage jobs, despite how much I would hate it, and reluctantly check my email.

The government sent me an email an hour ago letting me know that my FAFSA has been submitted and I groan out loud, resting my head in my hands. How am I supposed to save money to pay back my student loans when I don’t even have the money to afford an apartment now?

I really have no clue what I’m going to do and all I want to do right now is drink away my troubles. I check my phone to see how long ago my friends told me they were on their way to come over to get ready and pick me up to go out to the club.

This is a long overdue night out.

I scroll through Instagram until there’s a knock at my apartment door and screams letting me know that it’s locked. I roll my eyes, standing up from my spot at the kitchen table and making my way towards the front door, opening it.

“I know it’s locked, dumbasses, Debbie was just here and I didn’t want her to knock the door open asking for rent money again,” I explain, letting my friends in.

“Just offer to eat her out instead of paying for rent next month,” Tyler recommends.

“Can you imagine? Debbie would pass out if you said that to her,” Besty giggles before walking down the hall towards my bedroom.

“Is that what you’re wearing to the club?” I eye Tyler’s T-shirt and sweatpants.

“Girl, did you really just ask me that?” He practically buries me with his eyes as we follow our other friend to my bedroom.

“What are you wearing tonight, Y/N?” Betsy asks, pulling random articles of clothing out of my closet.

“Why? Are you trying to figure out which of my clothes you want to wear?” I stand in front of the closet with her.

She sends me a cheeky smile. “Maybe.”

“I’m definitely wearing this top,” I pull out the gold crop top. “And then some ripped jeans and my metallic blue vans. You can choose anything except those things.”

“Thank you,” she sings, pulling out clothes to look at.

I get dressed, throw my hair in a messy high ponytail and rest a gold chain around my neck.

“Who’s paying for drinks tonight?” I ask, walking into my bathroom to start my makeup.

“I’ll pay if you do my eyeliner,” Tyler offers, lying on my bed and playing on his phone since he finished getting dressed a long time ago.

“Get over here, then,” I order, pulling out my liquid eyeliner. I do his makeup carefully, directing his gaze towards the mirror to examine it.

“It looks great, thanks, babe,” Tyler sends himself a kiss in the mirror and I laugh, beginning my own makeup.

Two hours later we’re ready to go and stumbling down the sidewalk, some alcohol already in our systems from pregaming.

We’re all buzzed but not drunk yet, wanting to wait until we at least get to the club so we would be able to walk there. The bouncer lets us in the club with one glance, noting our slutty clothing and deciding we’re good enough to be let into the high class club.

The pounding music shakes the tiled flooring as we shoot straight to the bar, Tyler ordering us several glasses of shots and a variety of mixed drinks.

“Put it on my tab,” he yells over the bass to the bartender as she sets the tray down in front of us. I can barely hear his words over the feeling of the alcohol burning my throat as I take the shot of Jack Daniels.

“Dibs,” I call, reaching for the Sex on the Beach. The liquid sloshes out of the drink a little as I pick it up, the alcohol already taking over my system.

Betsy lets out a whine in protest at the same time she reaches for the Old Fashioned so I ignore her, directing my attention to the dance floor.

It’s honestly busier than I expected, which shouldn’t be surprising since it’s a popular spot for people to go to on a Saturday night. The dance floor is practically overflowing with people but if anything, it makes me want to jump in and go on a treasure hunt for the cutest boy to hook up with. I need a break from thinking and an attractive man is the perfect solution for that.

My vision sways as I stand up from the stool, setting the empty glass on the bar’s countertop before dancing my way over to the crowd. I enter besides a group of cute girls and they drunkenly invite me to dance with them, so there’s just five of us girls stumbling around and yelling together.

When I’m exhausted, I let out a loud giggle and move towards the center of the dance floor, closing my eyes and throwing my hands up in the air in carelessness and freedom. My body moves along to the beat of the music, the liquor swimming through my veins keeping me from caring about how I appear.

Soft hands press to my bare waist, firm enough to keep me in place but loose enough to let me go if I want to leave the grip. I let them rest, leaning back to rest my back on his chest. With my eyes still closed and the lyrics to the song belting from the bottom of my lungs, I wrap my arms around the stranger’s neck, playing with the long hair at the bottom of his neck.

I feel the chuckle that he lets out vibrate through both his and my body and his hands travel towards my belly button, connecting together and pulling me closer towards him. I smile hazily, one hand traveling down to rest over both of his and turning my head towards his. I have to lean up to reach his face but I leave a sloppy kiss on his jaw, opening my eyes to see what he looks like.

I can’t see much through the strobe lights of the dance floor but from what I can tell, he’s cute. His hair is not short but not long, it’s more on the longer side of short hair, if that makes sense. But I like it, I like long hair. He has a few cuts on his face and I can’t help but wonder what from. By his calloused hands I can guess that maybe he has a dangerous job or hobby, like working in construction or doing boxing on the side.

I can see a hint of a chain under his shirt and I reach for it, tugging it out of his T-shirt. He watches as I examine the silver cross, stroking over it with my thumb.

Something moves out of the corner of my eye and I turn my head towards it, noticing Betsy waving a glass of a daiquiri, my favorite drink, at me. Tyler laughs from next to her as I immediately launch myself out of the stranger’s arms, pushing through the crowd clumsily as I make my way towards the bar.

“Just as I was starting to sober up,” I comment, climbing onto a barstool and taking the glass from Betsy.

“Who’s your friend?” Tyler asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I sip on the beverage while moving along to the song, watching as Tyler leaves to talk to some cute guy at the other end of the bar.

“Will you be okay if I leave you here by yourself?” Betsy finally asks after exchanging seductive glances with some guy on the dance floor.

“Betsy, please,” I stir my second daiquiri. “You deserve to get laid tonight, go.”

“If you need me, come get me,” she orders.

I roll my eyes, calling after her, “I won’t!”

I start to enter my thoughts as I notice someone sitting down on the stool next to me. I don’t look over at the person, focused on counting how many drinks I had tonight.

He coughs, then says, “Hey.”

I glance over at him and my eyes are instantly drawn to the cross dangling from his neck. It’s the guy I danced with earlier.

“Hey.”

“You were dancing with me earlier,” he states, jutting with his thumb towards the dance floor.

“I know,” I nod.

He flushes, nodding as well. “Oh.” He’s quiet. “So, uh, I’m Clayton.”

“Y/N,” I respond, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He shakes my hand, sending me a small smile. Now that we’re in somewhat proper lighting, I can see what he looks like more, and dang, he is cute. I can tell now that his hair is a nice shade of brown and his eyes are this magnificent green color. I could stare at them forever and never be able to tell how many different shades and colors there are in his eyes.

“You from around here?” He asks, motioning the bartender over.

I nod and watch as Clayton puts in his order, turning to me. “Do you want another drink?”

“No, I’m good,” I reject.

He raises his eyebrows but nods, thanking the bartender for the beer. I like to play hard to get when it comes to boys. It makes the sex better.

“Who’s that?” I ask, nodding towards a blonde boy at the end of the bar.

Clayton turns to look, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “That’s my teammate. Why?”

“He keeps looking at us,” I take the final sip of my daiquiri. “Teammate?”

“Yeah I play for the Arizona Coyotes.”

“Oh, hockey.”

“Have you ever been to a game?” He questions.

“Yeah, I went on a date once and then you guys lost and my date got pissed so he ditched me in the middle of the arena,” I explain.

“Oh that sucks. I mean, I wouldn’t be with you at the game obviously but I’d love to take you out on a date after a game, if you would like,” he asks me out with a smile.

“No thanks,” I pass, watching as Tyler and the guy he was flirting with stand up from their stools. They’re probably going back to Tyler’s place to hook up now.

“What? Did you say no thanks?”

“Yeah I’ll pass on the offer, no offense. I’m just not looking for anything serious right now.”

A bunch of cash is thrown on the bartop in front of me and Tyler looms over me. “Money for the bar, and some extra for your rent next month. It’s not a lot but it’ll help until you get stable a bit, okay? And don’t you dare give it back, otherwise you’re paying for drinks next time when I plan to get blackout wasted. Oh, and don’t come over to my apartment for the rest of the weekend.” He winks, grabbing his hookup’s hand and leading him out the door.

I roll my eyes at Tyler, calling the bartender over to close his tab. Clayton watches as I pay the bill and shove the rest of the money into my pocket.

“You’re having trouble paying your rent, huh?” Clayton asks with a sigh, picking up his beer and swirling it around.

I give him a look. “Why do you care?”

“And you don’t want to be in a serious relationship but you want to have some fun,” he continues, “Looks like what you’re looking for is a sugar daddy.”

I scoff. “I don’t want to hop on some desperate sixty year old’s dick, Clayton.”

“Who said they had to be sixty? They could be, I don’t know, twenty one with seven million dollars to spend a year,” he responds.

“Seven million?” I almost choke.

“And maybe, that guy doesn’t know what to spend that money on but he sees a beautiful girl sitting in front of him and well,” he shrugs, maintaining eye contact while he takes a sip of his beer.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“Dead.”

“If you’re really offering to be my sugar daddy-””I am.”

“Be prepared. I’m high maintenance.”

[boredoutofmymindwriting]

Healing is complicated Pt.1

Summary: Jensen and the Reader meet at a coffee shop in town and start talking, they exchange number. Everything seems good but soon things get more than a little complicated.

Pairing: Teacher!Jensen X University Student!Reader

Warnings: slight fluff

Word count: 1690

Masterlist

Taglist

Disclaimer: I do not condone the relationship between a teacher and a student.

Tags can be found at the bottom. 

Love ya´ll and enjoy -Jo

~ Y/N´s POV ~

I could hear a slight mumble close by but chose to ignore it since the coffee shop is full and it's nothing unusual, then I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder that causes me to jump a little. I look in the direction of the hand while removing my earbuds before placing my book in my lap. I´m met with a man with soft hazel eyes and a small smile playing at his lips.

“Oh sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just wondering if this seat is taken, I mean this place is more packed than usual.” The man chuckles slightly as I nod my head.

“Of course, as long as you don´t mind me reading?” I ask knowing some find it disturbing if they´re gonna be working on something. The man shakes his head while placing his coffee on the table before sitting down.

“Not at all, I mean if that´d disturb me then the chaos in here would kill me.” He jokes and I feel a small smile creep onto my lips.

“True. Enjoy your coffee.” I reply before putting in my earbuds and getting back to reading. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the man placing some stuff on the table and I sneak a glance at him. He's definitely not bad looking with his light brown hair and square jaw, I can tell he's trying to stay focused from the way his eyes scan the papers in front of him and how his bottom lip is slightly drawn into his mouth probably from nibbling at the inside of it. Weird observation I know but I´m  an observant person, not in a creepy way but it's a nice way to pass time. I sigh a little and get back to reading my book but soon feel eyes on me. I smile lightly and look up at the man across from me before taking out my earbuds.

“Did you want anything?” I quiz him and I can see a light blush creep up his neck.

“N-no, I was just looking at your… book, it's a good one.” He replies trying to come up with a good excuse. I look down at the front page of my book and raise a brow.

“Really? You tend to read medical books for fun?” I try to hide the small smirk I can feel coming on. The man looks down at his papers and sighs.

“Well not really for fun but I´ve read a few so far.” He extends his hand and I take it.

“I should probably have introduced myself. I´m Jensen. Currently a nurse, soon to be a teaching nurse.” He chuckles and I nod.

“Well what are the odds, Jensen. Name´s Y/N, I´m a nursing student.” He takes a sip from his coffee.

“I kinda figured it was something like that, because I don't think you read medical books for fun.” He teases using my own words against me, making me roll my eyes slightly before chuckling.

“Touché.” I grab my cup of coffee and take a sip. “Although I doubt you were actually looking at the book, no offense.” I smirk as he blushes and rubs his neck from embarrassment.

“Yeah uhm sorry about that. It's just rare to see someone who reads in a book and not on their phone lately, who am I kidding you´re cute as well. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll get going.” He says as he starts packing up his papers. I place a gentle hand on the bundle of papers he's holding causing him to look up.

“Hey I didn't say I was uncomfortable. Let's talk some, I'm sure we can help each other one way or another. I can give you pointers on how to not be a boring teacher and you can tell me how to be a great nurse, if not we can just talk about something fun to forget the everyday pressure.” I smile gently and I can see him relax as he mirrors my smile.

“Alright, so I really don´t wanna talk about work. Let's talk about something nice. What about why you come to this coffeeshop or is it just because it was close by?” He quizzes and I shake my head.

“No. I come here because usually it's quiet, I've come here ever since I was little. It's like a home away from home, especially since I lost my grandpa 4 years ago.” I look down into my cup not wanting to go into too much detail.

“I get it, I´ve only been here a few times but I fell in love with it the first time I went here. As you said, it feels like a home and the coffee isn't something to complain about either.” He smiles lightly. “And I'm sorry for your loss Y/N.” I give him a half smile.

“Thanks.” I look down at my watch. “Shit, I need to get going or I´ll be late for class.” I cuss as I hurriedly pack my bag and take a big gulp of my coffee to empty the cup, I can hear Jensen scribble down something. I get up to leave and Jensen grabs my wrist.

“Wait! Here's my number , you can message me if you feel like it. I really enjoyed your company, even if it wasn´t for a long time. Take care of yourself Y/N.” He smiles as he slips the piece of paper into my hand. I close my hand over the piece of paper before replying.

“I enjoyed it too. Goodbye Jensen.” I give him a smile before walking out the door and hurrying to class. I walk past the window, quickly glancing at Jensen who´s sat by the table with a smile on his face while sipping on his coffee.

~ The following day Y/N´s POV ~

I had planned to text Jensen last night but I ended up studying really late and to be fair I fell asleep by my desk. I smile a little when I look at the piece of paper on my nightstand. I grab my phone and then the piece of paper before putting in the number that´s hastily scribbled on the paper.

--“Hey Jensen, Y/N from the coffee shop here. I was going to get back to you last night but to be honest I fell asleep at my desk so I'm currently mending a sore back and neck. I hope your night was better :) “ --

I type before hitting send and I can feel the light dread hitting me just as fast. I start tapping my foot impatiently as the minutes goes by. I let out a groan and got up to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. It seems as if it takes hours for one cup of coffee before I can pour the decanter content into a  cup and head back to my bedroom. I place the cup on my nightstand, I quickly grab my phone and hope there's a message notification. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face as I see the notification I´ve been waiting for.

--“Hey Y/N, I honestly wasn't expecting to hear from you. Try to do some light stretching and put some ice on your lower back and your neck for the pain, usually works for me (been there, done that a few times).”--

I chuckle a little when I read the last part as the writing notifications are showing before his next message comes.

--“Oh gosh I didn't mean anything with that… I've accidentally fallen asleep while studying a couple of times too. So what are the plans for today?”--

I smile lightly sipping on my coffee before replying.

--“No worries Jensen but I´ll keep that in mind for the pain. I´ll probably do some more studying, order takeout and watch a movie or something. What about you?”--

I get up from my bed, grab my coffee and phone before walking over to my desk and sit down. I open my books and start studying when I'm interrupted by my phone. I try my best to stay focused but after a few more notifications I give in.

--“Takeout and a movie sounds like a good idea :) I was thinking pretty much the same, except the studying part."--

--“You okay?”--

--“I guess you´re studying.”--

--“So not to be overbearing but I'd really like to talk more… No strike that, keep studying you need it but don´t forget to take a break now and then. I´ll be here if you need me."--

I can feel some slight butterflies in my stomach before replying.

--“Maybe we can talk later? Only after I'm done studying of course. I'd really like to talk more with you but sadly school calls.”--

It doesn't take long until I get a reply.

--“Shit. Did I disturb you? But yeah that sounds good. Keep up the studying.”--

I smile and put my phone on silent.

~ That evening ~

I'm halfway through the movie as I receive a message from Jensen.

--“Hey guess what? I´m becoming a teacher as early as Monday, there were some unexpected changes apparently.”--

I grin before replying.

--“Really? That's great! I´m sorry to do this but I'm really tired at the moment. I´ll talk to you tomorrow.”--

I yawn and turn off the tv.

--“Oh that's okay, get your beauty sleep and take care of your back.”--

~ Monday morning Y/N´s POV ~

I walk into class busy sipping on my coffee and looking for a seat. I finally found one in the back just how I like it. I sit down and unpack my stuff. As I open my computer I hear writing on the board and look up as I open my computer getting ready to take notes.

“I´m Mr. Ackles and I´ll be your substitute for this semester since Professor Carlsen had to go on maternity leave early.”

I know I recognize that voice and as the man facing the board turns around our eyes meet and I feel those butterflies again. I can see him swallowing, hard when realization hits him.

“Well fuck…” I mumble.

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