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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

#danny phantom #dead danny au #if bitch fartman won't redeem dash then I guess it up to me #god can you imagine growing up and growing old only to look at your past victim in the eye and see nothing has changed for him?#i could go on and on about what other characters got up to #but this is about the tragedy of the loss of Danny Fenton #not only his life but his memory #time moves on and Fenton got lost in the mix #once Dash's generation dies then Fenton will just be a cautionary tale #a ghost story #No one will remember that their hero was one long before he got his powers #god Im fuckign sad now #eat up and enjoy your angst

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Novelty

Jiang Cheng doesn’t speak much. One would think that would mean that people listen even more to him when he does say something, but one would be wrong.

Jiang Cheng learned very early on that no one cares about what he has to say; it didn’t start with Wei Wuxian’s arrival, but it certainly didn’t help either.

Wei Wuxian is a chatter box; there’s always something he has to say, no matter if it’s of sustenance or not but no one ever seems to care. People are listening to him, and they indulge him and that’s really all that matters, isn’t it.

Not so much with Jiang Cheng. If he says something without sustenance, people get bored and tune him out; if he is asked a question and he starts rambling on, people lose interest and move on.

So Jiang Cheng didn’t only learn to keep silent most of the time, he also had to learn that he has a very short time window in which people will give him attention. Attention usually comes together with eye-contact, and Jiang Cheng learned to make the most of that.

So he doesn’t talk much, and when he does his answers are short and on point. It seems like everyone prefers it that way, and Jiang Cheng learned to accept it.

His gruff nature helps him with this, actually, because people expect him to be taciturn so no one questions it much.

Jiang Cheng thinks his parents are glad he doesn’t talk much, because that means they don’t have to give him too much attention and Wei Wuxian is talking enough for two, so he mostly doesn’t notice if all Jiang Cheng contributes to a conversation are some grunts and hums.

It works for them.

Jiang Yanli—now things with her are a little bit different. She tries to get him to talk regularly, never taking for granted that Jiang Cheng simply doesn’t want to talk or has nothing to say, but her attention is so easily snatched away by Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother to talk with her either.

Sometimes he will try—because he can never help himself, always hoping that maybe things are different now, that she will listen to what he has to say—but before he can make it past the two sentence mark, Wei Wuxian will chime in and Jiang Yanli will give him an apologetic look and then the moment is gone.

It happened often enough that Jiang Cheng gave up trying with her too.

It’s okay that no one wants to hear him talk; it’s not like he has anything interesting to say anyway.

A tiny part of Jiang Cheng hoped that things would change in the Cloud Recesses, but since Wei Wuxian is still always at this side, everything stays just the same.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian don’t share a room here at least—Jiang Cheng feels bad for being relieved by that but he can’t help it—so he gets some time to himself, but it also means that Wei Wuxian can get up to all kinds of shenanigans without his supervision.

Shenanigans he desperately wants to share the next morning, so Jiang Cheng learned to expect Wei Wuxian to crash into him on their way to the hall where they’ll take breakfast.

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng, how are you?” Wei Wuxian cries out, just loud enough to attract the ire of a senior Lan disciple who is walking in front of them and Jiang Cheng elbows him in the stomach.

“I’m fine,” he gets out, right before something else catches Wei Wuxian’s attention and his eyes slide away from him.

These days Jiang Cheng is proud that he manages to say even that before something snatches Wei Wuxian’s flighty attention away from him, though he doesn’t even get the chance to ask Wei Wuxian how he has been doing.

He’ll probably tell him all about it, anyway.

“Huaisang!” Wei Wuxian yells, waving his arm so Nie Huaisang will definitely notice them, as if there’s any chance that someone could miss Wei Wuxian.

“Jiang-xiong, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang says and flicks open his fan. “Why are you this awake, it’s too early to be this awake,” he then whines and Jiang Cheng has to hide his smile with a frown.

He likes Nie Huaisang; he’s fun to be around, and he’s not half as lazy as he wants everyone make to believe and Jiang Cheng is curious to see how far he’ll take his rouse.

But Nie Huaisang is just as enamoured with Wei Wuxian as everyone else is, and Jiang Cheng is under no illusions that he’s just accepting Jiang Cheng’s presence as inevitable.

“It’s never to early to be awake, especially not when you can do so many new things here,” Wei Wuxian says and Nie Huaisang sighs.

“Jiang-xiong, you’re more sensible than this right? How are you?” Nie Huaisang asks him, but before Jiang Cheng can even answer, Nie Huaisang looks at Wei Wuxian who took the opportunity to throw his arm around Nie Huaisang’s neck, and Jiang Cheng knows there’s no reason to answer now.

No one will hear him anyway.

“Listen, Huaisang, how about we meet this night?”

“You mean after curfew?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to snap out at that, because he doesn’t want to be kicked out of the Cloud Recesses before he even had a chance to learn anything, but Wei Wuxian only waves him off.

“I’ll get some alcohol in, and you’ll bring the snacks, how about it?” Wei Wuxian goes on as if Jiang Cheng didn’t say anything at all and Jiang Cheng turns away from them.

No amount of protest will make Wei Wuxian change his mind and Jiang Cheng is too exhausted to try. Wei Wuxian will get into trouble like he always will, and Jiang Cheng will bear the brunt of it, like he always will.

It’s stupid to expect anything else, just because they are not at home at the moment.

“Don’t count me in,” Jiang Cheng mutters, more to himself than to Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang who are still talking to each other, and then he picks up his pace to get away from them for a bit.

Classes are fine, mostly; Jiang Cheng would love it if Wei Wuxian could manage to not cause trouble for five minutes, just so that Jiang Cheng can learn something and doesn’t always have to feel like he needs to be defending his shixiong but Jiang Cheng never gets what he wants and so he has to watch as Wei Wuxian sticks the drawing of a turtle on Lan Qiren’s back.

Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth at that, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s unwilling to draw even more attention to it, and it’s not like Wei Wuxian ever listens to him anyway, so what’s the point.

Wei Wuxian still manages to get thrown out of class and for all that Jiang Cheng hates himself a little bit for thinking it, he’s glad about it.

At least like that he gets to enjoy half of the class uninterrupted.

When class finally ends, Jiang Cheng intends to study the parts of class he missed before due to Wei Wuxian’s shenanigans, but before he can leave, Nie Huaisang catches up to him.

“Jiang-xiong,” he says and leans into his space. “You didn’t answer before. How are you?” he asks him, his face for once not hidden behind his fan, and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng tells him, waiting for the moment when something else catches Nie Huaisang’s attention.

But the seconds tick by and Nie Huaisang keeps looking at him as if he’s expecting Jiang Cheng to say something more and Jiang Cheng’s frown deepens.

“What?” he bites out, because attention like this is never good when it comes to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang flutters his fan.

“You’re not a man of many words, are you?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng tenses at that.

“What does it matter?” he snaps out. “It’s not like anyone is listening anyway,” he lowly tacks on, but it seems like Nie Huaisang still picked up on it.

“Wei-xiong does get a bit much sometimes, right? You can barely get a word in. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to live with that,” Nie Huaisang muses and now Jiang Cheng is openly staring at him.

“What do you mean?” he carefully asks because he cannot believe that Nie Huaisang picked up on something no one else noticed before.

“It must be hard talking on to Wei-xiong all day long,” Nie Huaisang softly says, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s mood.

“Maybe I don’t like talking,” Jiang Cheng says but Nie Huaisang’s eyes tell him just how believable he is.

“Don’t you?” he asks and Jiang Cheng looks away from him.

It’s the first time in a long while that someone is paying this much attention to him and Jiang Cheng has to admit that he no longer knows how to deal with that.

“What do you want?” he brusquely asks instead of answering Nie Huaisang and Nie Huaisang is silent for long enough that Jiang Cheng fears he already lost his attention again.

It would be just like Jiang Cheng’s luck.

“I want to know more about you,” Nie Huaisang says, catching Jiang Cheng completely off guard with that answer.

“There’s nothing to know about me,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him but when he turns around to look at Nie Huaisang again, he’s still staring at him.

“I don’t think that’s true at all,” Nie Huaisang says, and there’s a calculating look in his eyes. “You were very interested in the history part of the lesson today, right? I saw you listening. Are you interested in history?”

Jiang Cheng blinks at him, because no one asked something like this about him before and Jiang Cheng is unsure how to deal with that.

He distantly wonders how long Nie Huaisang will insist on pestering him, how long it will take for Nie Huaisang to talk right over him, but Nie Huaisang waits patiently for an answer.

“I am,” Jiang Cheng eventually gets out and watches as Nie Huaisang lights up.

“I know a lot about the history of my Clan. Do you want to swap stories? I know almost nothing about the Yunmeng Jiang history and I would love to learn!”

“I don’t think we’ll have time for that,” Jiang Cheng mutters, because he’s not going to stop studying just because Nie Huaisang wants to talk to him.

It’s beyond flattering but Jiang Cheng is here to learn.

“What about tonight?” Nie Huaisang asks and Jiang Cheng immediately frowns at him.

“Wei Wuxian wants to drink tonight,” Jiang Cheng reminds him because clearly Nie Huaisang already forgot about that.

“But you said you don’t want to be counted in, so I figured you’re not going? And I’d much rather spend the evening with you talking about history than drinking with Wei-xiong and then getting punished for it,” Nie Huaisang says with a shudder and Jiang Cheng stares openly at him now.

“You heard that?” he asks, beyond surprised that Nie Huaisang even heard him and now it’s Nie Huaisang’s time to frown at him.

“Of course I did. You were talking so I was listening.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do with that information at all, and so he simply turns away from Nie Huaisang and starts walking away.

“Jiang-xiong!” Nie Huaisang cries out and rushes to keep pace with Jiang Cheng.

“It’s Wanyin,” Jiang Cheng says, keeping his eyes on the path in front of him, because he’s beyond embarrassed but Nie Huaisang makes a delighted noise.

“Wanyin!” he says with excitement and Jiang Cheng feels himself flush bright red. “I insist you call me Huaisang then!”

“Why would I?” Jiang Cheng grumbles but secretly he is very pleased by the novelty of this whole situation.

“Because we’re friends now, and you can’t take it back. I want to hear all you know about your Clan’s history!”

“Mark your words,” Jiang Cheng threateningly says. “I know a lot.”

“Good. I love history.”

Jiang Cheng does too, but no one knows about that because no one was paying attention to him. And Wei Wuxian certainly does not like history at all, so why would anyone care beyond that.

“I like it as well,” Jiang Cheng lowly admits, for the first time out loud and Nie Huaisang gently bumps their shoulders together.

“I’m happy we get to share our knowledge then. I bet Lan Qiren also has some book recommendations for us,” Nie Huaisang muses and Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen.

“Why would he give them to us?”

“Because he loves people who like to learn,” Lan Xichen suddenly says from behind them and while Jiang Cheng has too much self-control to squeak in surprise, Nie Huaisang does not.

“Lan-xiong,” Jiang Cheng greets him, elbowing Nie Huaisang to fall into a bow and Nie Huaisang scrambles to follow his lead.

“I’m sorry, I overheard you talking,” Lan Xichen says with a gentle smile. “I can point you towards the right section in the library tomorrow, if you would like that.”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang immediately says and so Lan Xichen turns to look at Jiang Cheng.

“We would. Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says, surprised that Lan Xichen wasn’t satisfied with just Nie Huaisang’s answer but it seems like today is full of surprises.

“See, I told you,” Nie Huaisang whispers to Jiang Cheng who desperately tries to shush him.

“It’s my pleasure,” Lan Xichen tells them, still smiling as he walks away from them.

“He really is the most gentle one,” Nie Huaisang mutters behind his fan. “My brother did pick well.”

“Your brother and Lan Xichen?” Jiang Cheng asks, one eyebrow raised and Nie Huaisang flounders.

“You didn’t hear anything!” he rushes out. “They are not—official yet.”

“It’s not like anyone listens to me anyway,” Jiang Cheng says with a shrug at that, and he only has a moment to notice the pained look that flashes over Nie Huaisang’s face.

“I am listening to you,” he says and it sounds like he just made a decision too. “Will you spend the evening with me?”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he truly is looking forward to talking about history with Nie Huaisang. “But I make no promises about Wei Wuxian.”

“He’s not welcome,” Nie Huaisang grumbles. “I don’t like how he ignores you,” he then tacks on, much quieter than before and Jiang Cheng goes all warm at hearing that.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says, just as quietly as Nie Huaisang and he shares a smile with him.

Maybe having one person listening to him is already enough. It certainly feels like it to Jiang Cheng.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #friendship #gen #hurt/comfort #fluff #insecurity

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seijohsbabe · 3 years

Text

Necking

Ship: Bully!A.Miya x Reader

Tw: smut, nicknames, kinda Exhibitionism, humiliation, swear words, degradation, bullying, noncon

Wordcount: 2,5k

a/n: Please im craving for feedback or some love, I’m so sensitive rn lmao, need some confirmation that my stuff what I write is good for you guys <3

When they said high school was going to be a great time, it was a huge lie. It was hell. It wasn't the school stress, your grades were good, but there was someone in your class who kept an eye on you for no reason. Unfortunately not as you would have hoped, but the complete opposite. Atsumu Miya, pro athlete volleyball player. When you started school two years ago, you were seated right next to him. He looked nice, with his nice lazy grin, and his perfectly styled hair. But at some point evil emerged from behind this facade.

It started very small. Your things were broken, your locker was broken open, and things in there were stolen or destroyed as well. You didn't know who it was, but it wasn't a great feeling. But the whole thing really started in your second year. Right on your first day, Atsumu spilled hot coffee on your blouse. Of course, you thought it was accidental, happens to everyone. But as Atsumu became more and more aggressive with his actions, you slowly became suspect. He started to pull your hair as you walked by, put one leg in the middle of the hallway so that you flew in the middle of the floor, your skirt slipped up slightly and your books scattered all over the aisle, while Atsumu and the rest of the group just kept going. At some point, you turned to a tutor, but he denied everything.

,,Atsumu our professional volleyball player? No way“ Your parents don't let you change schools anymore, it would be too much effort, it's only 1 1/2 years left.

And so your judgment was made, another 1 1/2 years of hell with Atsumu Miya.

Half a year later, at the beginning of the last school year at this school, he exceeded all limits. He was getting more and more touchy with you.

You still sat next to him and it didn't make it any easier. In the middle of class, his long, strong hands grabbed your thighs to get higher and higher. Your hands clapped against his in protest, but he didn't mind, on the contrary, while the teacher turned around and you two sat in the back row anyway, he put your hair back so that your neck was free to attack it with his mouth, to make a big red mark.

"Now everybody can see what a slut you are." He only whispered before he wrote something for the class, which the teacher dictated without even give you a second glance.

He didn't stop with anything until today. Instead, he did even more to make your life hell. You didn't know why, and why exactly you, but unfortunately you got used to it. Falling down, the tease in class, hurting you in any way, no matter whether emotionally or physically. Today it was that time again, history and Atsumu was next to you again. He came into class with his smug grin as always, every girl turned around, but he didn't pay any attention to any of them, instead, he looked straight at you. The other girls followed his gaze to give you a dark look, but that left you cold. Only Atsumu was able to scare you. You never knew what he was up to today, what he had new on the reservation, the last time it was a volleyball that was wrongly set in your face, while you only wanted to get a message to one of his team colleagues, another time he had spilled juice over your perfect notes for class. In front of the teacher, he apologized to you several times, but you saw his big grin after the teacher turned again and the class continued. It was a vicious circle that you could never escape.

So when the lesson took its course and everything was going well so far, it wasn't long before you felt his hands on your thighs again. He only wandered up to your skirt hem and down again, but this time he even went under what your eyes read wide. He wouldn't? His face stayed calm and focused, he even nodded sometimes, but his fingers slowly pushed your panties to the side to slide his finger through your slit. It made you gasp and press your thighs together. But he just pinched you, and a small, "Let them open."

You didn't want to push him to go any further, thinking how should you push him further? He was just passing one of the last borders. His fingers ran repeatedly through your cunt, while you had to bite your hand in order not to get too loud. "Oh you Lil slut, I know you want it." He whispered softly and deliberately. But you couldn't answer at the moment, luckily the hand was still buried in your mouth while he suddenly sank 2 fingers into you. This time you couldn't help but moan softly.

,,Y/n? everything okay?“ the teacher asked.

,,Y-yes, I'm just tired." Fortunately, the teacher didn't notice anything from the hand under your skirt, but this left Atsumu unimpressed and got faster and faster with his pace, while he watched you briefly with an amused grin that you have to groan loudly, but it wasn't going to end well, so you clench your teeth and try to think of something else.

He hissed in anger that you were taking it so far. So when he tilted his fingers a little and hit your point, you groaned. It was unexpected that he hit that spot. With an evil grin, he looked over at you, his fingers now taken back.

,,Y/n, I think you should maybe breathe some fresh air don't you think? Atsumu Kun, please stay with her.“ Your teacher spoke again.

If he came with you now, what would he do to you?

,,No it's okay I can go on my-" you tried to talk yourself out of it, but a certain someone had to talk over you, of course. "Oh no y/n, you will fall over afterward, you're already so pale, come on.“

And with that, he pulled you out of the classroom followed by several strange looks from the students and the teacher.

He pulled you by your upper arm as you stumbled behind him. You dared not speak, too afraid that he might come up with a stupid idea. Nobody was in the hallway, everyone was in their class. Your steps could be heard in the whole corridor, until he suddenly stopped in front of a door and you slammed in his back. Your eyes examined the door before you were dragged in. It was the boy's toilet you were dragged into.

He pulled you into one of the cabins to lock it behind you with one click. Then he pressed you firmly against the door, holding you completely captive with his size, with no way out. He looked down at you, with an omniscient grin. He had something bad on his mind and you just hoped that you would still live after that. Of course, he noticed your fear and clicked his tongue a few times while he shook his head thoughtfully.

"Oh my little y/n-chan, don't be afraid, I'm gonna show ya something real‘ good. Believe me, you'll like it."

But you didn't like a thing he did, so you just looked up at him suspiciously. His blond hair fell slightly on his face, his brown eyes glistened at you. Slowly his hands sank down to get under your skirt. This time your hands pressed onto his well-trained chest while he clasped your cunt.

"Still so wet for me, my lil slut hmm?" Your head shook, but he just grinned wider.

"Oh you will see, later you'll be begging for my cock." With these words, he tore your blouse open and then tossed it on the floor next to you. His gaze wandered over your body, back up to your eyes. You just stood there, looking at him, no clue of what to do. He moved quickly to take off his uniform to show his muscles that smelled of strength. He leans down to stop just in front of your face. One hand leaned against the door the other brushed through your hair. You looked at him dreamily, you were just too much in thoughts of what to do when he caught your lips with his lips. It caught you by surprise, with widening eyes. You already had your first kiss, but this one was nothing compared to this one.

Atsumu was dominant, demanding, and quick. He thrust his tongue into your mouth to exude even more dominance. Until it went down and down, leaving a trail of spit until it met your collarbone, to stop there and suck onto the skin. Your hands found themselves in his hair again, pulled tight, which made him grunt. After a while, he broke away to look at his work of art from afar. He looked satisfied, and ran his thumb over it until he stared into your eyes again.

In a short time, his hands were back on his shoulders to push you down with force. You couldn't fight it and let yourself fall with your knees on the floor. It made you wince, the stabbing pain went through your whole body. His hands were now on his pants to slowly open them to let them and his underpants in one moment fall. His cock jumped against you. It pulsed. The tip was already leaking pre-cum. The size alone made you swallow. He just laughed down at you while he saw your amazed face. His hands were now in your hair to twist them around and have a closer grip on you.

"Suck" he directed you with your lips to his penis. "I don't think I-" and again he interrupted you, "Oh you can baby, and you will, now suck." He said with an annoyed tone. Your hands clasped his penis. They just fit drum. You started with little kitten licks along the tip and the length, but that wasn't enough for him. He pulled your hair to make you look up. "Take it in your dirty mouth you slut."

You just nodded, to look at its length one time again. Your mouth opened slowly to lie over the first few centimeters, but Atsumu was impatient, rolled his eyes, and directed your head down. Quickly his tip tapped against your throat and you had to gag, but there were still a few centimeters left. His hand in your hair, the strong grip made you wince while he guides your head up and down at an even faster pace. Your gagging noises echoed in the whole boys toilet, your spit ran out of your mouth down on your chin.

His other hand leaned above you on the door, his head hanging down, eyes closed. "Fuck- just like that baby." He groaned while his rhythm slowly decreased. Your eyes watered, and tears ran down your face.

Suddenly he pulled you away from his cock, and looked at your weeping face, spit ran down your face mixed with your tears.

"Look at you, already so fucked out." He laughed more to himself. Then he tugged you up on your hair, your scalp burned. When you were on your feet again, he finally let go of it. He suddenly turned you around and pressed your face to the door. Your cheek squeezed against the hard material as Atsumu tore your panties under your skirt. "I needed them!" you whined to him.

"Not anymore." He lifted your skirt slightly to collect your wetness again with one finger.

He took it with relish in his mouth as if he were trying the most delicious chocolate in the world. With a "pop" he let it slide out of his mouth, and groaned at your taste.

"You know y/n-Chan, I've always dreamed about that right here, and finally I can do it in real, it's just fuck- so much better than I imagined."

Your hands pressed against the wall of the cabin, which was getting hotter and hotter as you tried to see what he was going to do. However, when you felt his cock stroking along your entrance, the panic came up.

,,Please Atsumu! Dont do this please!“

But before you could continue, he buried himself in you with a jolt. To be filled with the stabbing pain all at once was not exactly pleasant. Especially with his size it was not really easy to accept the whole thing that fast. But he didn't even give you time for that, as he began to pounding right inside you while his hands were on your hips. Now you had to let out a moan too.

Although it burned, the feeling of being completely filled was so pleasant. So lapsed in lust you didn't notice at first that he hit you on your butt. Only when he hit it a second time you had to let out a small cry. "You like that don’t you? My lil cumslut. Fuck your sucking me in, so g-gready for my cock huh?“

And with the constant pace and one more hit on your butt, the knot of lust burst and you saw stars. You were afraid your legs were going to give up so much they wobbled. Your moans echoed trough the whole boys toilet, maybe even on the hall.

Worst of all, Atsumu kept his tremendous pace. The overstimulation was too much for you to make you cry. But he just grinned as always and gripped your hips even tighter.

Out of nowhere, he turned you around to pick you up by your thighs and push you against the cabin door. The door rattled loudly, you were almost afraid it would fall apart.

He picked up his lost pace again while your senses are completely out of order. All you felt was his length in you. The tip kissed your point with every thrust. Your hands, which were still just on his shoulders, were now holding on to his neck to pull him closer and press his lips tightly onto yours. You needed something to hold on.

The pace slowed down for a moment, because he was probably surprised, but didn't let himself be confused for long until he hammered into you again. You both moan into the kiss until Atsumu broke up and took you one more time into consideration. Your eyes rolled back, your tongue peeked out a little, and your hands went up to pull on his hair. "Aw come on, another one, you can do it." You just cried towards him, the pleasure overwhelmed you completely.

The knot got bigger as Atsumu put pressure on your clitoris while he penetrated your point further. „Fuck, im cumming! Come on, come with me baby.“ He groaned head back in his neck. Your legs clasped him tightly while the pressure rose again and everything is twice as sensitive as before. ,,I-I, too much Atsumu-" you've mumbled. And with his last final snap you cummed together. He shot his semen into you, white long strings painted your walls white while you were trembling. He groaned with you together until he let go of your legs and let you sit on the floor.

As he dressed again like nothing happened, he looked at your trembling figure, completely fucked out, cum dribbling out of you. He stuck a finger in your cunt to push the cum back in, and took your chin between his fingers to make you look him in the face. "Better not to waste any of my present, you dumb Lil’ bitch alright?" And with that he walked out of the cabin even hummed a little song while you were completely out of your mind on the floor, trembling.

#atsumu x female reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smut #Atsumu smut #smut haikyuu #smut Atsumu #inarizaki #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #bully Atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #dark haikyuu

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takechonces28 · 2 years

Text

Teachers Pet (Part One)

Y/N’s POV

Second semester. It’s like a new beginning, new classes, new teachers, it’s great. But this year is different, it’s my senior year, so it’ll be my last “new” beginning.

I walk into my first period, it’s a college level class, we take it for credit to graduate and college credit. The teacher’s new, his name is Awsten Knight, but Austin is spelled weird, at least he isn’t an English teacher.

“Good morning y’all! It’s nice to meet everyone, I’m Mr. Knight and I’ll be you’re US History teacher for the next semester” he smiled a toothy grin, as he greeted us.

I couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was. He had a beautiful jawline, the brightest smile I’ve ever seen. He’s toned and has great style. This fact starts to sink in more and more as the course progresses.

We’re now three weeks in and I’m still swooning, but today was different.

“Sam listen, I can’t be crazy, he’s been staring me down all class!” I start to gush to my best friend as we head to second period. “And he’s not like… scolding me, he’s just like staring… INTO my soul” Sam laughed my comments off.

“Oh yeah, and Mr. Wigington gave me “fuck me” eyes” she rolled her eyes at me as we entered our next period.

Awsten’s POV

It’s awful, I know. She’s my student. The age old story, creepy teacher after the matured student. I feel like shit, believe me, but she keeps giving me these looks. She looks like she’s studying me, like I’m a test she needs to pass.

I can’t help but stare back, she is beautiful, and of age. She’s 18. She’s actually almost 19, they held her back in kindergarten. So, it’s not creepy, right. She’s an adult, by state standards. But, I can’t just ask her out, that’ll get me in the local news, god.

So I guess I’ll just have to let it be. If it’s meant to happen, a way will open up.

Y/N’s POV

Guitar lessons. He teaches guitar lessons.

“Hey mom…. No I’m not calling for you to get me… why?… oh um, you know how I love music, but I’ve never had a chance to learn an instrument… yeah so one of my favorite teacher is giving guitar lessons, is it okay if I check them out today after school?…Yes I’ll be home before 8, okay thanks mom love you.” I did a little happy dance and turned to Sam. “Mission accomplished” she laughed at my elaborate plan.

(Time skip to that afternoon, cause I’m lazy :) )

I walk up to Mr. Knight’s house. It’s actually very well kept, the yard at least. I lightly knock on his door, my anxiety starting to surface.

“I’ll be right there!” I hear his soft voice reply to the knock. After a few moments he comes to open the door, and looks shocked when he sees it’s me.

“Hey Y/N, not to be like… rude, but how’d you find my house” he laughed, but also looked concerned.

“Your flyer… about guitar lessons…” his eyes light up.

“Oh shit, yeah, I forgot I did those.” He grabbed my hand and brought me inside.

“So where’s your guitar?” He looks at me confused.

“Well that’s the thing, that’s actually not why I’m here, I just needed a real reason to be. That was the best I had.” I start to fidget with my fingers, not knowing how to bring up what I want to say.

“You stare at me… in class. Way more than a student usually does Y/N. “ he looks up at me slowing, and I’m froze. He knows.

“I’m just really attentive…” he shakes his head, “to the lesson or my biceps Y/N?”

He knows how hot he is. God it’s not fair.

“Can’t I be attentive to both?” I laugh and he joins as well.

“Why are you really here Y/N?” He looks me up and down, and my whole body tenses.

“ I- um, fuck. You watch me too!” I shout, probably not the best way to bring it up but here we are.

“Well, we’ve both been caught, haven’t we.” I look down embarrassed with myself, but Awsten didn’t like that.

“Look at me darling” He lifts my head up by my chin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, we both have an attraction toward each other. And contrary to popular belief, it’s not illegal, just frowned upon.” He caresses my cheek, making every hair on my body stand.

“So you… think I’m pretty?” I quietly respond, entering full sub mode.

He nods, “Yes baby, you’re beautiful, most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” I just stare at him in awe, speechless.

“Can I kiss you?” I nod not being able to speak, he grazes his finger down my lips, “uh uh baby, words.”

“Yes, please…” I softly get out the words.

That’s all he needed to take my lips into his own. His hand moved from my cheek to my hair. The kiss still pure. He pulls away slowly.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” I shake my head at him.

“No that’s you” I giggle

I check my phone and see that it’s 7:45.

“Fuck! I have to go” he frowns

“Did I move too quick I’m sor-“ I shake my head, “no, no I have a curfew still, my parents are crazy!” I hug him really tight not wanting to leave, then I lean in one more time. We kiss for a little over a minute then I pull away.

“Where does this leave us?” He asks.

“Where do you want to leave it?” I ask in rebuttal.

He shakes his head, “We can do these lessons… twice a week… and they can be like, dates?” I nod and hug him again.

“See you Thursday!!”

(A/N hey y’all I’m alive!! Okay so I was just gonna make this a one off smut, but I decided I wanted it to be a short story, so there’s gonna be like two or three parts. I hope you guys like this!! ✌️)

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lexosaurus · 3 years

Text

Statistic

My contribution to DP Side Hoes Week 2021 day 1! Character: Mr. Lancer Theme: Reflection

---

William Lancer stood in front of the mirror, fastening his tie with practiced fingers. He pulled the fabric down, completing the knot, and straightened it before him.

There. Now he was ready to start his day.

Well, almost.

He picked up the steaming mug of coffee off his dresser and sipped it, cherishing the warmth. It was early, too early. No matter how much his parents told him he would get used to waking up early for work every day as an adult, he never seemed to get the hang of it.

He stifled a yawn, noting the bags under his eyes and creasing forehead as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Teaching had aged him, there was no doubt. Between preparing the lesson plans, grading assignments, editing papers, meeting with parents, tutoring students—not to mention the dreaded administrative meetings—it was really no surprise that teaching had slowly worn him down over the years.

But he wasn’t sure he could ever walk away. At least, not for a few more decades.

He headed downstairs, swiping his keys off his kitchen counter and starting the familiar drive to school.

Teaching wasn’t all bad, it wasn’t all weary, thankless work. The students, though hormonal and immature they could be, kept him going every day. Watching their eyes light up as they understood a concept, seeing them succeed in their athletic or creative ventures, those were the small moments he cherished. The parts of his days that he yearned for.

He parked and strolled into the school, coffee still in hand. The hallways, though empty now, would soon be teaming with life as the students slowly made their way to school. And though they’d be tired at first, slowly throughout the day the voices in the halls would get louder, more lively, as the day picked up steam.

He said a few obligatory greetings to his coworkers, grabbed a few files from his office, and then headed to the printer room. He had a few worksheets he needed to print out for his students today.

“Will!” Tom Falluca greeted him. A copy machine buzzed next to him, spitting out papers.

“Hey, Tom.” Edward set his mug down on a spare table. It always amazed him how lively Tom seemed to be in the morning. “Happy Friday.”

“And to you! Got any plans for the weekend?”

William shrugged. His weekends tended to all be the same, with him switching off between prepping for school, emails, reading, and video games. Not that he told anyone about the latter hobby. It would have been rather unprofessional of him to admit to such a thing. “I’ll probably get started on my book club book. It’s a rather interesting one I believe. Well, according to Jane from the history department it is. But that woman will read anything, so I take her recommendations with a grain of salt. How about you?”

“My wife’s sister will be in town this weekend, so we’ll be hosting them.”

“Oh, that will be fun. Is she the one with the kids?”

“Yup, although they’ll be spending the weekend with their grandparents, so we won’t have them this time. It’ll just be Alice and her husband. I think we’ll probably go biking around the city on Saturday and then go out to dinner and a bar.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” William pressed a button, whirring his copy machine to life. “Kids can be such a handful.”

“Oh, you’re telling me! I still have one at home, although he’s old enough now to be able to take care of himself for a day.”

“That’s the good thing about you working here, isn’t it? He would never be able to get away with a house party.”

Tom chuckled. “Heavens, no. The rumor mill works too well for that.”

William hummed, swapping a paper out of the copy machine with another.

“If any of your students look despondent today, it’s because they got their math test back,” Tom said.

“Not a good one?”

“Well, for the most part it went okay. But there were a few scores that were a bit lower than expected, and the usual suspects didn’t do well either...”

William didn’t miss the implication of that last comment. “You mean Mr. Fenton and Mr. Baxter.”

“Dash didn’t do great, but I spoke with his parents about arranging him with a math tutor last week and they seemed to agree with the idea, especially since I know he’s starting to think about college recruitment. But Danny!” He let out a sharp breath and rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers. “Good grief, I don’t know what to do with that kid.”

William recalled the essay he graded from Mr. Fenton earlier this weekend. It was a garbled blend of English words that could only have been written by someone who couldn’t even bother to read the Sparknotes of the novel. For a while, William suspected dyslexia. But he had seen Mr. Fenton’s work after being forced to study in the classroom after school, and while he certainly wasn’t on the same level as his sister, he had shown to be able to produce legible, comprehensible papers when he put the time into it.

It was almost too easy to write him off as just another lazy student. And sometimes, William did do that. But he knew that deep down there was a much, much larger issue at play.

He just didn’t know what that issue was.

“Fenton is a rather interesting case,” William finally said. “Truthfully, I haven’t been able to figure out how to handle him either.”

“It would be much easier if his parents would get involved. I’ve sent emails, but they just apologize for his performance and promise that they’ll talk to him. He doesn’t need to be talked to, he needs real intervention, and I can’t do that if his parents won’t agree to it.”

“I’ve had similar issues,” William admitted. Jack and Maddie Fenton were an unfortunate roadblock in his progress with Daniel. At the moment, it seemed detentions were the only way he could actually get Mr. Fenton to be forced into doing schoolwork at all. And even then, half the time Mr. Fenton would either not show up to the detention, or he’d pull one of his infamous disappearing acts halfway.

“I don’t know.” Tom shook his head. “Every so often, you get a student like this. I know, I’ve been at this job for almost thirty years. I know we’re not heroes, we can’t save everyone. But it still is such a damn shame to see a student with so much potential slip through the cracks.”

“I agree.”

At this rate, Mr. Fenton would amount to nothing more than just another failed statistic. He would just slip through the cracks.

William hated to think about it.

“We can’t save them all, Tom, but I’ll see about trying to get Madeline and Jack Fenton into my office again with the guidance counselor.”

“Theresa’s good. Maybe she’ll get through to them.”

William shrugged and collected his papers. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Theresa, Mr. Fenton’s parents, and himself had sat down together to discuss Daniel’s performance. But it was always the same response, just a, “We never had these issues from Jazz!” from the father and a, “I’m so sorry, I’ll talk to him,” from the mother. Any suggestions of a 504 plan was shut down before William could finish his sentence.

“He’s never had these issues before. We’ll talk some sense into him!” Jack Fenton had said.

There had been students in past years who had parents that spoke like this. Opposed to alternative methods, so sure they alone could “talk some sense” into their teen as if that would solve all their academic issues.

It never ended well.

William shuffled off to homeroom, one hand clutching his photocopied papers and the other holding a nearly empty mug of coffee.

He wasn’t sure how to get through to Daniel. He wasn’t sure how to convince his parents that Daniel needed extra help, and that was okay. It wasn’t a sign of intelligence, or lack thereof.

But he needed to figure it out.

He refused to let Mr. Fenton become another statistic.

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #dp side hoes week 2021 #phicc #my writing #unbeta'd

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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 3 years

Text

School House Blues

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Identifying Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Warnings: N/A

Request from Anon: Hey so I saw your post that said requests for certain characters were open and I was wondering if I could ask for a din djarin x plus size reader with this prompt please? : (19th c) I’m the town’s school teacher and you’re the gruff wanderer/traveller/cowboy/outlaw/etc. That’s come to town. You help me fix the school house and wrangle the little demons I teach. I was thinking the kid could be one of her students! Thank you so much in advance ♥️♥️

Summary: When the bounty hunter strolls into your little mining town you don’t think much of it, but with a little boy in his wake and your school house in disrepair, he becomes more than just a passing visit, but a welcome constant.

Notes: You know me too well, Western AU/historic AU Din is so good as a concept and ughhhhhh this was so wonderful to have requested and I hope desperately that it’s good!

Reader isn’t really specified as plus size just because it didn’t really come up in the story? Although she is described as being quite soft and sweet in appearance.

Archiveofourown

He comes into town with one hand clenched around his horse’s reins, guiding the bay and white creature with a bounty hogtied swearing and cursing over its rump, and the other hand holding a little boy of no older than six at his hip. It’s quite the sight, one that momentarily distracts you from your grief at the fact you’re teaching your children out of a saloon now since your schoolhouse was burnt to the ground.

He’s imposing or he would be if the little boy wasn’t smiling up at him with big brown eyes. It’s hard to be imposing when you’re clearly the world of a small child and it makes you smile from the porch of the saloon. You’d been organising the boxes of donations the townsfolk had put together, since all your books, slates, chalk, paper, pencils, and the like had burnt in the fire, when he strolls past. He glances over at you and tips his head, hat dipping over his chestnut eyes and it flusters you for a second when you finally see his face.

He’s handsome, incredibly so, too handsome to be in your small mining town you think. Deep brown eyes, a prominent nose and plump lips set in a perpetual pout. His jaw is sharp and his beard and moustache are trimmed neatly, despite the bruising on his face and the layer of dirt from the road he’s truly beautiful, a thought that flusters you further. The small boy sat comfortably at his hip and playing with the fabric of his suspenders is adorable, soft round cheeks and large brown eyes, but he doesn’t look much like the man and you’re curious what the story is there.

The boy is old enough to be in school with you, to sit and learn his letters and to read while the older kids move on to learning about science, history, mathematics and poetry. There are a couple of children his age in your class, Timmy and Mary-Beth, both just getting the hang of gripping a pencil correctly. You wonder if he won’t be joining your class soon or if he and his guardian will be out of town before you can even consider preparing for a new student.

You watch the man hitch the horse outside the Sheriff’s office, the one that’s not got a sheriff at the moment. You hope he’s not looking for quick pay, the lawman that resided in the Sheriff’s office at the moment was just there until they could find a new sheriff. He’d have to telegram out to get the bounty money. Your last sheriff had up and left after being shot at by a couple of drunk miners, he’d decided that was enough and quite the same day. The town had been a little more unruly since and it was beginning to make you and some of the other townsfolk uneasy without someone to keep the peace. The temporary lawman had been lazy and uninvolved thus far. It was after the sheriff quit that your schoolhouse burnt down and you weren’t sure it was coincidence.

You watch the man place the boy on his feet and say something quietly to him before brushing his hair fondly. He grabs the bounty off of the horse, and slings the man over his shoulder. It’s impressive that he doesn’t struggle up the steps to the office even with a fully grown man thrown over his shoulder, the little boy follows after him as he goes inside.

You return to your organisation. There aren’t that many books, not like you used to have. But, while you wait for some of your teaching associates across the country to send you items, they will do. There’s enough paper and some slates for all your students to practice their writing and get their work written down which is a relief and even a globe that the general store owner, Mr Hewitt, had found in a back cupboard for you to have.

You’re trying to lift one of the boxes of books when he comes back out again, the little boy still trailing behind him, but this time something shiny is pinned to the man’s blue shirt. You don’t think too much about it as you struggle to lift the box, your heavy skirts not helping you move much, hindering your progress and causing you to trip each step forward you take.

You hear his boots on the wooden stairs before you see him, he towers over you, as he takes his hat off, more polite than most men in town. You get a better look at the shiny thing pinned to his shirt and realise it’s a sheriff’s badge. The same one the old sheriff used to wear, you look from it to him and then down when you hear a little giggle. The little boy is still following after him, a sweet smile turned on you this time as he leans around the man’s legs to watch you.

“Miss, I can take that.” He gestures to the box in your hand, it’s not a question, and it’s straight and to the point. But, you’re grateful for the offer and hand it off to him without complaint. He’s stronger than you, that’s clear to see, his arms thick from years of hard work.

“Thank you…” You wait for him to tell you his name, trailing off as you lead him into the saloon that has been set out for the school day. There is a black board at the front, tables and chairs littered around the room, the liquor shelves have been emptied for books to replace them.

The fact that Mr Karga had offered the saloon for the school was a miracle and while many in town grumbled about their favourite place of vice no longer admitting them during the day time, most were supportive of the decision to help the kids continue their school. Nevarro wasn’t a large town and mining was its main source of income, but the children deserved a chance to do more than just become miners and the school helped them do that. You helped them get into colleges on scholarships, to find jobs as clerks and apprentices in other parts of the country.

“Din Djarin.” It’s a nice name, rolls of his tongue like honey. He doesn’t smile, not really, not properly, but there’s a little crinkle at the corners of his eyes that soften his face and make him seem warmer somehow.

“And this little one?” You smile at the little boy as he begins to bravely step out from behind his guardian to greet you with a smile. He is a quiet boy, not the usual talkative sort you find with a six year old, but who knows what he’s been through even at this young age.

“Grogu, he’s my…” He furrows his brow, clearly thinking hard on the right word. That alone tells you he is not his son by blood, a small fact that makes him even more interesting. Not many bounty hunters would take in a small child. “Son.” he finally says. Deciding it is the best term. Grogu isn’t his by blood, Din knows this, but the little boy he’d found all alone surrounded by death, was slowly becoming like a son to him. Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Family is more than blood.

“Will he be joining my class? I run the school, currently we’re based here...in the saloon. Not my ideal place to teach but needs must.” You gesture around you to the makeshift classroom. You don’t like that the place still stinks of liquor or that at night it goes back to being a saloon where people drink, gamble, and fight. But, you don’t have a better place right now and the children need somewhere to learn. You can teach in any building, even if you dislike this one.

You fit the image of a school teacher he thinks. You look like a respectable young woman, dressed appropriately, all neat and proper. Your hair pulled up and pinned away like it’s supposed to be. Everything about you is proper. Part of him wants to see you become ruffled, stop being so demure. It’s a thought that makes him frown at himself, the thoughts inappropriate especially towards a lady like yourself.

“Yes. We’ll be staying for awhile. What happened to the school house, Miss…?” He took on the job as sheriff the moment the lawman offered it, the pay was good, gave him his own accommodation and it meant he could settle down for a bit, give the kid an actual childhood. Bounty hunting was something he was good at but it wasn’t exactly safe to do with a six year old in tow. At least this job used his skills catching lawbreakers and put them to use in a place the kid could grow up. It helps that the teacher of the town is pretty too, he thinks.

You give him your name before answering his question, “Well, after the last sheriff quit, the schoolhouse burnt down and along with all the things we had in it. Luckily it was at night and none of us were in the building. Burnt right down to the ground, nothing left…” You say it with a heavy sigh, thinking of that sweet little schoolhouse. The white painted wood, the familiar rows of desks with names carved in them, your favourite collection of university level texts at the back for the older and more advanced kids to explore. You had been teaching in that schoolhouse for the last five years and in a way it had become a second home for you, if you weren’t at your own little home, then you were in the schoolhouse marking work or planning lessons for the coming days.

“Anyone know what caused it?”

“No. We didn’t exactly have the mind to investigate and if it wasn’t an accident it was probably just some drunk who didn’t know any better. But, we make do and Grogu,” You crouch down next to the small child, moving your skirts to do so comfortably, “will fit right in, I think, don’t you?” The little boy smiles at you and giggles, before hiding behind his father’s leg again.

“Have any plans been made to rebuild the schoolhouse?” Sheriff Djarin it seems is very straight and to the point, his tone isn’t unkind or aggressive, but his words are clipped, short, brusque as if he’s not quite used to being more flowery or saying much. You supposed a bounty hunter didn’t typically need to say much, but you hope he’ll become more comfortable with talking, at least to you, as time goes on.

“No...i’ve been trying to put some pressure on the mayor to get it done but...he just doesn’t seem to care all that much now there’s a temporary solution.” You say as you begin unpacking the box that he brought inside, exercise books are brought out and sorted into piles, ready for the children to write their names on the covers and start afresh.

He frowns, brow furrowing deep, lips turned down at the thought of the schoolhouse just never being rebuilt. It’s clear to him that saloon isn’t the place for a school and it’s even clearer that you are distressed with your new working arrangement, that you miss having a building that is entirely your own and entirely dedicated to teaching young minds.

“I’ll sort something out. Is class starting soon?”

“Yes, not...not long now.” You double check the clock realising the kids will begin arriving in less than an hour and you feel wholly unprepared for the first day of school since the schoolhouse burnt down.

You watch him crouch in front of Grogu, hand ruffling his hair fondly, “You’re going to stay here today, get some learnin’ in ya. I’ve got things to do, but I'll be back later, promise.” You’re surprised and warmed when he puts out his pinky finger for the kid to grab, a little promise that seems to you like something more. You wonder if the boy was scared of being left again, if this was Din’s way of reassuring his new son that he wasn’t going to leave him. The little boy wraps his whole hand around Din’s pinkie not quite understanding how the promises work yet.

“Have a good day of teaching, Miss Y/N.” He nods his head at you, grabbing his hat as he walks out the saloon with a purpose. The hat is placed on his head the moment he’s out of the doors and it’s that little element of politeness that surprises you. He carries himself like a gentleman but looks like any other rough and tumble man wandering the west. But it’s his treatment of Grogu that confirms the sort of man that he is.

I’ll sort something out. You smiled to yourself realising that perhaps the new sheriff would be the best thing to happen to this town in a while. Someone who actually got things done for once.

“Do you want to find your seat? Maybe do some drawing before class starts, Grogu?” You ask the little boy smiling at him as he nervously shifts from foot to foot, looking back out the doors as if hoping his father would walk back in. It’s clear he hasn’t had to do this before, be separated from him and left with a stranger, but you put on your softest smile and gentlest voice and wait patiently for him to nod his head before offering him your hand.

He takes your hand and you help him get settled into his seat, you decide to put him near the front so you can help him easily and get him settled near you. He only knows you after all, and you think being around all the kids and far away from familiarity might be too much. You give him some paper, scrap bits that you don’t need anymore and a pencil leaving him to draw while you get ready for class.

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

The school day goes...well, it’s hectic and your hair is frizzy and falling out of the updo you styled it in that morning by the end. The children are unsettled in this new environment, the older kids, those nearing adulthood frustrated by the younger kids who can’t seem to focus or be quiet. Your brain feels too large for your skull and you sigh out a goodbye to your students as they leave out the saloon doors, one or two shoving through the swinging shutters much faster than needed.

Grogu is the quietest of your students, sweet and attentive, he doesn’t speak a word, but follows your instructions well. He is behind on his writing letters and reading, that much you know from working with him, but he’s a quick learner and applies himself with a determination you rarely see. He doesn’t always play well with others. At lunch time you’d noticed him stealing food from the other children. It continued despite giving him your own lunch knowing his father hadn’t had time to prepare him something after coming straight into town and getting to work. He doesn’t share well either, but seemed to understand when you sat him down and talked to him about it. You suppose that being away from other children and only travelling with your father figure who would share his food with you without a thought, it must be confusing. The manners that he now has to observe, the rules of society that he’s never had to worry about until now. He looks suitably admonished despite the gentle way you chose to talk about it with him, that alone makes you think he’ll likely stop stealing the children’s cookies and be more willing to share.

“David, careful!” You call out when one of your older students nearly gets trampled underneath the sheriff’s horses’ hooves as he runs across the thoroughfare without looking.

“Sorry, miss!” David calls back over his shoulder, still storming ahead your warning lost on him.

You sigh heavily and rub at your temples, stress enveloping you. A tug, swift and sharp on your skirt has you looking down. Grogu has a hand fisted in the fabric, pulling to get your attention. Once he has it, his arms open, hands up towards you, opening and closing, a universal gesture to be lifted.

It surprises you, he is...quiet and reserved. You expected time to be needed before he was comfortable with you in any respect, especially after having to tell the boy off. Instead, he lets you lift him to your hip, hands reaching for strands of your hair and twisting them, surprisingly gently between his chubby little fingers.

You watch your students run in different directions through town, their books and lunch pails in tow. Some stop on the open green, playing games together before their parents demand them back home for dinner. The warm little body in your arms is a soothing presence and the boy almost looks like he wants to say something, but just makes a soft cooing sound instead.

“Not much of a talker are you, little one?” He almost shrugs his little shoulders before looking up at the sound of heavy footsteps and clinking spurs. The sheriff leads his horse up to you, eyes following David with a shake of his head. Clearly, just as bemused as you at his lack of common sense.

Grogu smiles and giggles happily at the sight of his father, arms reaching out for him. You pass him over to Din, trying to ignore how close you get to the man to do it. He radiates warmth and smells woodsy mixed with some sort of soap he must use. This close you can see little birthmarks dotted across his neck.

You step back once the boy is settled in his arms and smile, soft but tired. “Sheriff, how was your first day on the job?”

He gives you a humoured smirk, one you’re not expecting, it takes you aback slightly. He looks...charming, approachable. Little dimples at his cheeks that soften his features in a way that makes you want to step closer. With a huff, not quite a laugh, he says, “Eventful.”

“That makes two of us, sheriff.” He notices the tired creases beneath your eyes, the once unrumpled appearance now dishevelled, hair coming out of its updo and blouse and skirt wrinkled and creased. You look like you’d had a rough day and he hopes Grogu wasn’t part of the cause. He still hadn’t figured out how to discipline the kid, he always turned those big brown eyes on him and he just couldn’t tell him no.

“Din. Call me Din.”

“Then you should call me Y/N.” There’s a moment of silence. You stare at him, at the way his hat casts shadows over his face, at the gentle hold he has on Grogu, the open top buttons of his work shirt and the dig of suspenders into his shoulders. He stares back at you. The gentle softness of your cheek, the marks that make your skin your skin and not someone else's.

“We’re going to start building the schoolhouse as soon as the wood shipment gets here, I sent a telegram off today to get some good lumber in.” It surprises you in the most delightful way. When you said the mayor had been dragging his heels you meant it, but you hadn’t expected this new face to come in and make a start on what the mayor had been reluctant to do.

“We’re?”

“I’ve convinced some of the men around town to pitch in and I know a thing or two about building.” In truth he’d intimidated more than persuaded. Most of the men were lazy, and had more concern for their own vices than for helping out. But, a mixture of convincing them they’d get their saloon back and reminding them that he was now the town’s sheriff seemed to get a few of the stronger and more skilled townsfolk to agree to help.

“You’re the sheriff. You shouldn’t be building the schoolhouse, Din. You’ve got more important things to do.” You feel bad that he’s doing this, being quite so involved, when he’s starting a new job, one that takes up most of his time. Being a sheriff is a full time job, almost 24 hours a day 7 days a week. He has people to keep in line, criminals to catch, laws to enforce, and building a schoolhouse wasn’t on his list of priorities. It’s sweet and makes your heart ache oddly, but you feel guilty for adding another thing to his plate.

“This is important, Miss...Y/N. The kid can’t learn in a saloon forever and you can’t work here forever neither.” He can see how desperately you want your schoolhouse back and something in him wants to provide that for you, to care for you. He tells himself it’s also for the kid, that his son deserves a proper schoolhouse to learn in. That all foundlings, all little children deserved a place to learn, like he had growing up in the covert.

“At least...at least let me and the children bring food and water down once you get started. I...you’ve not even been here a whole day and you’re already doing more than anyone else ever has...Thank you, Din.”

“It’s my pleasure, meg ba'jurir” You do not understand what he calls you, but you recognise that cadence, the rhythm of the language. Can almost see the symbolic nature of the alphabet. It surprises you that he knows what you’re sure is Mando’a, having only heard one other person in your life ever speak it. Mandalorian family groups were uncommon, but where they were they seemed to keep people in order, to value community. It made sense that he would take on the job of sheriff, adopt a child not of his own blood, if that were the case.

You bite your tongue and don’t ask, you don’t know him and it is too personal to ask about his upbringing, culture or heritage. Perhaps, after you know him better you can ask, but you can almost hear your headmistress at school reminding you about manners and decorum even in a little mining town.

“He didn’t...he didn’t cause any trouble today did he? He’s not used to being around others or...we’ve been on the road for a long time now.” He looks down at the little boy sitting at his hip, who’s playing with the metal star on his shirt. He knew that Grogu could be difficult, sweet, adorable, hard to say no to, but undisciplined and not used to the rules that people usually abided by.

“I...I did have to have a word with him today…” You can already tell Din’s disappointed. He clearly loves the boy, but part of loving a child is wanting better for them and getting in trouble isn’t part of that.

Din sighs heavily before catching the boy’s eye, “Ad’ika…”The boy clearly knows what’s going on and hides his face in his father’s shirt, suitably embarrassed about his behaviour. You think that’s enough to probably deter him from stealing from other kids in the future. You also think you might bake him some treats and use them as an incentive to work hard. You suspect bribery would work well with Grogu.

“He paid attention beautifully and he’s already doing so well with learning his letters, but he’s...he’s quite…” You try to think of the best way to say that the boy just can’t resist taking other children’s food.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Y/N. You can tell me.” You look Din in the eyes, deep brown meeting your own and sigh out before speaking.

“He likes to steal the other children’s food. I gave him my lunch and he still tried to steal Charlie’s cookies and Mary Beth’s macarons. I know he’s probably used to food being a thing he can just have since you’ve been travelling as a family unit…”

“Osik... I forgot to give him lunch. I am a terrible father…” Din looks at his feet, free hand rubbing over the scruff on his jaw. You feel the instant need to reassure him.

“You’re not a terrible father. You just came into town this morning, immediately took on a job, and instantly went to work. You’re not a terrible father.” You hesitate, but reach forward anyway, a hand on his arm giving a quick reassuring squeeze.

“Vor entye, Y/N. Thank you. Have you eaten?”

“Oh…” You hadn’t really thought about it, that you’d given your food to Grogu to stop him going hungry and that you’d spent all day teaching with little more than the porridge you’d made yourself that morning to keep you going.

“Don’t even think about lying to the sheriff.” You did in fact consider lying to him, but the look he gave you reminded you of an overbearing mother hen who wouldn’t let you get away with it. Combined with the fact he was indeed the new sheriff, you felt it best to stick to the truth for now.

“No...I haven’t.” You admit, feeling suitably admonished by him and a little guilty for even considering lying about.

Din adjusts Grogu on his hip and nods his head behind him towards the street, “Come, I’ll buy you dinner at the café.”

“You don’t have to, Din. I can make dinner at home.” You think back to the soup you were going to make that night, and even though you haven’t the energy in truth to make dinner, you can’t ask him to buy you it. It is too much and unnecessary. Any good teacher would have made sure their students were fed.

“You kept my ad fed in place of yourself. I’m buying you dinner.” His voice left no room for argument and so you found yourself following after him across the street towards Reeva’s Café.

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

Din’s presence in town becomes apparent very quickly. He does not allow the men to wander drunk through the streets, start fights, or harass women. He does not suffer law breakers or those who cause the peace to break. He is swift, effective, and there isn’t a member of town who doesn’t respect his authority even if some don’t particularly like having to listen to him.

For you it is a refreshing change. You don’t worry about the children wandering around town in the evenings or about walking out of your home at night. You don’t worry about your meager belongings being stolen or a fight breaking out in the saloon on an evening and ruining the few bits you have for the school.

He is quiet and polite, not much of a talker, but everything he does shows a man of honour and good morals. He is sweet with the children as well.

It had become common place for him, while waiting for the lumber to begin the schoolhouse, to come into the saloon while you were teaching. He said it was because the day time left little for him to do as sheriff, but you think he just enjoys helping with the children. They make him smile. A real smile.

Sometimes he just sits with his son on his lap and helps him with his letters, other times he wanders between tables helping those who need it or using his presence to quiet the children after an exciting lunch break. Reminding them to respect you, their teacher, and listen.

Your favourite, and the childrens’ favourite times were when he’d sit down and tell them stories of his travels. For a man who didn’t speak much, Din Djarin was a natural born storyteller.

That’s how you found yourself taking a step back, sitting on one of the saloon bar stools off to the side as Din took your place at the front of the class. He had an ability with the little ones that amazed you, none were ever scared of him despite his height, posturing or the guns holstered at his side and slung over his back. He always managed to make them smile and laugh, always got their curiosity going and inspired them equally. He made it a point whenever he talked to your class to share stories of both men and women he’d met who’d done amazing things, you could tell he was trying to get the girls in your class to see they could be more than housewives or washerwomen and you appreciated it.

“So there I am standing toe to toe with the biggest grizzly you’ve ever seen…” He gestures with his hands, standing at the front, arms out front to show just how large this grizzly bear was. His voice took on a different, more dramatic quality then normal. Grogu clapped his hands from his seat on your lap, the little boy having grown increasingly comfortable around you.

“Now this grizzly has to be 8ft standin’, and he’s the angriest bear you’ve ever seen and i’m sure that’s the end of me. I’m about to become a grizzly bear’s dinner, Sheriff Djarin stew!” You laugh along with the kids at the prospect of Din becoming stew for a grizzly bear, you’re never sure how much is fiction or truth in his stories, although part of you wouldn’t be surprised if they were all completely true. He was...he always seemed larger than life despite being so quiet. Like some sort of figure out of a western story.

“When out of nowhere, charging between me and this mean grizzly, comes the largest bull moose I've ever seen…”

“What’d you do?” Mary Beth pipes up, big blue eyes open wide.

“Well, I got the he-” He stops himself looking at you, you raise an eyebrow reminding him that cussing around the children would not do well for him, “-out of there as quickly as I could! One thing you should never do is stay around to fight a grizzly, never ends well to go toe to toe with one. That moose was being kind and giving me a chance to get away.” It amuses you that he always manages to twist a moral into the story. This time about kindness and helping those weaker than yourself, along with a healthy dose of not getting into situations with angry grizzly bears of course.

“Well, I think it’s time I let Miss Y/N, get on with her mathematics lesson.” Groans and grumbling rises up from your students as you place Grogu in his seat and begin making your way to the front. You watch Din frown at them, hands on his belt, leaning into one hip more than the other. He is the perfect picture of a disappointed father. Lips twisting downwards, pulling on his moustache.

“Hey, now! Miss Y/N always makes your lessons fun so don’t you start giving her trouble or else i’ll have to stop coming in for story time.” It’s a threat that promptly has them settling quietly in their chairs and getting their books and pencils out.

You rest a gentle hand on his arm when you reach him, quietly telling him thank you. It’s heavy with meaning. Thank you for being there for the children. Thank you for providing them with stories. Thank you for always settling them and reminding them to respect me. Thank you for thinking about the schoolhouse. Thank you for settling the town and keeping the peace.

He just nods at you with the smallest hint of a smile, enough to make you feel the tiniest bit flustered as you watch him walk to the chair where he’d left his hat, holsters, and lasso.

“Say goodbye to the sheriff, children.” You tell them as all of you watch him make his way to the doors. He stops before them and tips his hat at you all with a smile, but the moment he’s out the doors it drops and in his place is the hard sheriff who won’t stand for trouble.

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

Once the lumber comes in and the plans have been drawn up and approved by yourself, at Din’s insistence, the work begins. The schoolhouse design had been run past you because Din didn’t want to miss anything that was needed or that would help you teach. He had told you not to worry about size, scale or cost, that the community was pitching in and that the mayor had found a fund tucked away somewhere for the school. The fund miraculously appeared after Din had a long meaningful chat with him.

He wouldn’t tell you that he’d made threats against the mayor about digging up some of his dirty laundry, but he had. The mayor had a lot of skeletons in his closet and also a nice stack of credits he was sitting on in his own personal mayoral vault. The fact that the mayor had been so reluctant to rebuild the schoolhouse when he easily could have almost made Din see red, but he didn’t think it would look good if he beat the man to the curb as sheriff. He was supposed to be upstanding and law abiding, if he wasn’t why would any of the townsfolk be?

A few days into the project you decided it was time you made good on your promise to come to the site during lunch time with the children to bring water and some food. You and the children collect pails of water and the baked goods you’d made the night before, trudging through the streets. You held Grogu on one hip, the small child the slowest of his classmates, and carried a heavy pail of water in the other, so heavy your shoulder slumped down on that side to accommodate the weight.

The children were happy to help, after all, many of their fathers and older brothers were working on the school site and it was a chance in the school day to see people they cared about. You were also sure they wanted to ask the sheriff a multitude of questions and beg for a story, but you’d reminded them that they weren’t there to get in the way or interrupt the work, just to offer food and water.

You’d reluctantly admitted to Reeva that you found the sheriff attractive, after the older woman badgered you day in and day out about the time you spent with him. You could admit he was handsome. His eyes were deep brown and spoke more words then he often did. He had both a look that could intimidate and also soften into something warm and safe. The beard and moustache he sported made him look ruggedly handsome and his shoulders were broad and wide. He looked like he’d stepped out of a story book or from an illustrated newspaper short story. Rugged but clean, dangerous but kind.

You had to admit though that this was your favourite look on him. As you came upon the building site he was busy sawing a plank of pine in two. His shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong forearms and thick wrists. His suspenders had been flung off his shoulders, resting at sides no longer covering the strong back that was tensed as he worked. The top few buttons of his shirt had come undone, almost indecently so to show a pronounced collar bone, strong neck, and dark chest hair and the brown hair on his head had begun to curl from the sweat he was working up. It shouldn’t have been attractive. He should have looked like any other man working up a sweat, you shouldn’t have wanted to wipe his brow and brush your fingers through the curls of his hair. But you did.

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself you look down at the little boy at your hip, “Should we go say hello to your father?”

“Papa!” He clapped his hands at you in confirmation. You’d slowly learnt that papa was one of the only words he said, you weren’t sure if he chose not to speak or simply couldn’t. But, given his increasing aptitude with writing his letters, you thought it likely that he simply chose not to speak.

The call instantly has Din’s head popping up from his work like a startled deer and you watch as his eyes roam across the children until he catches sight of his son at your hip. The smile that lights his face is so bright that it’s almost blinding, there is a longing you feel whenever you see his happiness to see Grogu. Some deep part of you that desires that sort of family bond. He loves his son so deeply, it doesn’t matter to him that their blood isn’t the same and part of you wants desperately to be part of that love and happiness.

“Children, hand out the food and water, will you? But be careful!” You remind them as they run towards familiar faces, it is still a building site after all, and the last thing you need is a child getting hurt in any way.

Din finishes sawing the plank before striding over to you, hand pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow. You look...radiant. The summer sun shining over you, causing your skin to glow, your hair to shine. Your smile is as soft as your eyes and you're gentle in the way you hold his son to your hip, like he belonged there. Like the two of you belonged together. Din can admit that he enjoys your company more than he probably should, he can even admit that a part of him deeply desires you, wants you to join his family unit, become part of his aliit. You’re tender and kind to all the children you teach, your children as you often call them, and you’re incredibly kind to Grogu who you treat with more understanding than most school teachers ever would. You keep order in your classroom through kindness and mutual respect, not through fear or punishment. The maternal shine to you draws him to you in a way that, had he not been Mandalorian, he might be ashamed of. But, family is everything to him, Grogu is everything to him and if he is to put down roots here, he can’t help but consider putting down roots with you.

It’s a silly thought though, you’ve not known each other long and he isn’t well to do or gentlemanly. You’re far better educated than him, kinder than him, and it is a pipe dream that he doubts will ever come to fruition. It doesn’t help that he struggles at times to even talk to you, let alone make his feelings known.

“Miss me, Ad’ika?” He calls to the little boy, carefully pulling him from your arms when you offer him. If you allow yourself to, you can almost imagine he’s taking your own child from you, that the two of you have formed some sort of family. But, you are just his son’s teacher and he is just the sheriff of your small town.

The boy babbles at him, not real words, nonsense, or attempts at words that don’t translate, but you can see that improving. Can almost imagine what settling down here can do for the boy, give him a chance to learn, grow, make friends, and find some stability and safety.

“He’s been itching to come over all day, they all have. I was struggling to get them to focus on their history lesson.” You had 15 children all desperate to get out of the saloon and visit their fathers for lunch. It had been a...very difficult lesson to say the least and you still felt a little frazzled.

“History?” The boy tugs at his father’s hair and you watch him wince as he speaks, pulling little chubby hands from brown curls.

“The fall of the empire and the rise of the republic. Not the most riveting subject for them I'm sure, they much prefer when I tell them about different societies rather than politics.” You want to say like Mandalore and the Mandalorians because you want to draw him in, desperate to have more of his time even when he’s already doing so much for you. You enjoy the odd hour here and there when he takes over your class and becomes the teacher, where you can just sit and listen, learn yourself.

“Mandalorians believe that our history is our future. We learn it as soon as we can walk.”

“So it is Mando’a you’ve been speaking?” It warms you to see him open up to you like this. He is a private man, quiet, and insular. While he can yell with the best, and demand attention, can intimidate and even persuade, it’s all part of his job. The face he puts on as sheriff. He is quiet about himself, sharing little and not so often. You revel in the trust placed in you wherever he tells you a little something more about himself.

“You noticed?” Most people don’t even know Mando’a exists, let alone recognise that the words he slips into his speech are such. He finds they slip out more around you, than with others. He’s comfortable with, he is happy to share himself, his culture with you and it...it is a startling discovery about himself. He has been insular and closed off for longer than he would like to admit.

“I can’t speak it and I..I don’t know it well, but, I recognise the cadence. I grew up in Naboo and there was a Mandalorian there, she used to speak it when I would sit and practice my letters with her.” Atin’a Caivass was a kind woman to you even if she could be hard. She had been one of your teachers, always pushing you harder, to do better. Yet, it had never felt frustrating or like a chore, the Mandalorian had always made it a desire to impress her, but also to prove to yourself that you could. She had always been kind to you and the other children, gentle but firm, like you were one of her own. You saw similarities with how Din treated the children. He was kind and gentle, but never overlooked an opportunity to firmly correct their behaviour or mistakes. A perfect balance. Not too soft and not too harsh.

“You never learnt?”

“She was very protective of it and I...I was always too afraid to ask.” You confess. You had always been fascinated with it, like any young child when faced with a new language, but you had always believed it something sacred, and had worried that you would offend her if you asked to learn. “Ad’ika? What does it mean?”

He can’t help but laugh at your pronunciation and sounds it out for you, “Ah-Dee-Kah, it means little one.”

“Ah-dee-kuh?” You are even more beautiful, he thinks when you butcher his language, trying so hard to get it right that your eyebrows scrunch together and your eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Ah-Dee-Kah” The little one squirms in his arms and he places him on the ground, only to watch him plunk himself on his bottom and play with the dirt. He had always had a fascination with dirt and rocks, more so than any of the toys he had actually brought or made him.

“Ah-Dee-Kah”

“Perfect.” You smile blindingly at his praise and he wonders if he can forgo his job as sheriff and simply teach you Mando’a every minute of every day. “You can always ask. If you want to learn. It’s nice to hear it from another person’s lips, not just mine.”

“I would like that very much...maybe when you’re less busy? You’re rather booked up at the moment, what with being sheriff, storytime for the children, and building a schoolhouse. You’re a busy man, Din Djarin.”

“I like to keep my hands busy.” You look down at your feet before looking back up at him, unsure how to respond to what you were sure was meant as a perfectly innocent comment. Din almost swears, osik, once he realises how that sounds, lifting hand to the back of his neck to rub it.

The silence that you fall into isn’t uncomfortable necessarily, but feels almost solid, like a physical thing and not just the quiet that comes with two people not talking for a moment. There’s a tension there that is not wholly unpleasant but hard to describe or pin down.

Seeming to remember the pail of water you’re carrying you place it in front of him, “Water, so you can clean off or if you’re thirsty. There’s some pastries somewhere as well, to keep you all fed...Can’t have you keeling over on us or else we’d never get our schoolhouse.”

You take a step back and cast your gaze around, making note of where each of your 15 kids are. You’re caught watching Jerome splash water on Annie, about to go and tell him off when you hear splashing much closer to you.

You thought he couldn’t excite you more than he already had. Thought that Din Djarin couldn’t possibly tempt you more, cause your well-mannered sensibilities to crumble further. You were utterly, terribly, ridiculously wrong.

There’s something to be said about the man pouring half a pail of water over his head to rub away the sweat and dirt from a hard day working in the summer sun. He flicks his head back, long neck outstretched as water droplets fall like mirror glass over his tanned skin. His hair sticks to his skin, kissing it in a way you realise you desperately want to and his shirt clings to broad shoulders with the familiarity of a lover.

You spin back around away from him flustered, determined not to look as you march towards Jerome. You decide in that moment that perhaps it’s best not to bring pails of water at lunch time. You might just not survive to see the school built.

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

For the next two months your routine features lunch time trips with the children to bring water and sometimes food to the men building the schoolhouse, and the odd afternoon story time hour when Din feels confident enough to leave the others to continue working without his guidance. Each day the schoolhouse comes together more and more and each day you fall a little bit more in...in whatever these feelings for the sheriff were.

You also have the startling realisation that Grogu has wormed his little way into your heart in a way that none of your other students have. You have a soft spot for the little boy, especially as he becomes more vocal, begins to say more little words, including the delightful name ‘Miss Y/N’.

Din is a temptation in himself, each time he teaches you another word or phrase in Mando’a and his lips wrap around syllables or every time he works hard to build the schoolhouse muscles pulling taut underneath the weight of wood. He tempts you in a way that no one ever has and you can’t quite explain what it is about this man that makes you desire to be in his presence, to kiss him, to hold him, to be close to him both physically and emotionally. You want to know everything about him, to understand him better than you understand yourself.

In some ways it is a relief when the schoolhouse is finished and in other ways it feels like a loss. Part of your routine, part of the day where you always see Din was no longer needed or necessary.

When you bring the children over at lunch time, it’s to show them the finished building, the one they’ll be in come Monday morning once you have the time to move all the books and other odds and ends into it. They’re all excited as are you, to see it...it strikes you in the heart so badly that you can’t move your feet, can only stare at the building with tears in your eyes.

It’s beautiful. Not large, but larger than the old one. Freshly painted white, with a school bell hanging out front. It strikes you that this isn’t just a schoolhouse, but it’s your schoolhouse. Din had been adamant about building it for you.

“Children, why don’t you go inside and take a look? You’ll be here on Monday!” You wave them all off as they run ahead and up the wooden steps, throwing the door open none too gently. “Careful! We only just got it!” You call out and receive a series of sorries back.

“Shall we go find your buir?” You look down at Grogu, who’s hand is holding the heavy fabric of your skirt. He smiles up at you and nods his head with a quick little ‘papa’ that has your heart warming.

You hear him before you see him, “Now don’t go breaking the tables when we’ve only just put them together, girls!” Already laying down the law to 3 of your children as you enter the schoolhouse. They had seemingly been swinging on tables in a most ill-mannered fashion that has you putting on your teacher-face and raising an eyebrow at them from behind Din. They promptly stop and return their feet to the floor with an abashed look.

“Sorry, Sheriff. Sorry Miss.” They call to you both before scurrying away in hopes of avoiding punishment, leaving you, Din and Grogu alone in the main room for the building. You let it go. It isn’t an issue, they need to learn to respect things, and not damage them, but that does not have to come at the cost of punishment when a quick look and a reminder does enough.

Din spins at them calling out to you, faster than he seems to have expected, looking decidedly dizzy for a second before the mask of sheriff falls right back into place.

“Y/N, how do you like it?” He opens his arms wide and gestures to the main room of the schoolhouse. A large blackboard already nailed to the wall at the back, rows of tables and chairs set up so every child could see you. A desk at the front for your things. It is sweet and fits your needs infinitely better than a saloon ever would. You even note the bookcases along the walls, enough space to place many of your books for the children to have easy access for when they wish to learn something more than you could teach them.

“It’s...it’s wonderful, Din. It’s beautiful. I...I can’t thank you enough...I...I’m a little lost for words.” You can feel the happy tears starting to pool in your eyes again, the gratitude making you a little bit emotional. “I don’t think I can ever repay you for this.”

“You...you don’t need to repay me, Mesh’la. This...you and the children deserve a school, a place to teach and learn. You don’t have to thank me or repay me for doing what the damn mayor should have done in the first place.”

You nearly don’t do it. Nearly let that fear that wells up inside you and the proper manners, the belief that you were about to be far too forward than was ladylike, stop you. But, you think back to his kindness, his gentle nature, the calm and order he’s brought to town. The son of his that you have a large soft spot for. The handsomeness of his features, the sharpness of his profile. The gentle hand he always places on your back as he helps escort you somewhere. The respect he shows you at every turn and his willingness to share his culture and upbringing with you. You think of all the things that make up the Din Djarin you know and you think of what he has come to mean to you.

With a silent prayer and an apology to your late headmistress for being more forward than is ladylike, you push yourself forward and into him. Lips soft and chaste lifting to meet his, only briefly. You do not push for more than a second of contact, but it is enough, you hope, to get the thought and intent across. That he is someone you would like to get to know more, that he is someone you could happily be courted by, even marry one day.

He doesn’t even have time to blink, it happens so fast. One minute you are standing a few steps away from him thanking him, the next your lips are pressed to his in the shortest sweetest kiss he’s ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. It takes another second for him to realise what’s happened before he’s reaching a hand out to cup the nape of your neck and drag your lips back to his for a significantly more substantial kiss that leaves you a little breathless.

When you pull away from each other you don’t go far. Din presses his forehead to yours, hawkish nose pressing into your cheek, a soft touch that grounds you with his presence. The hand at your neck, rubs a soothing thumb across your skin. Your own have chosen to grasp at the suspenders over his shoulders, to keep in close proximity.

“I’d very much like to court you, Miss Y/N.”

“I think i’d like that, sheriff.”

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

Mando’a Translations

Meg Ba'jurir - roughest way I could get to someone who educates or a teacher with meg being who and ba’jurir being educate

Osik - Shit

Vor entye - Thank You

Ad - son

Ad’ika - Little one, term of endearment for small children

Buir - Father also Mother basically parent.

Mesh’la - Beautiful

Aliit - Family (Clan)

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Taglist for this fic:

@lex-ham

#din djarin x reader #din djarin / reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian reader insert #reader insert #readerinsert #western au #putting down roots #din djarinxreader #din djarin/reader #female reader #female identifying reader

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ghostlywritten · 3 years

Text

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Six

James Potter x OC

Words: 4,8k

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Chapter Five

"What?"

"I'm asking you out," James stated matter-of-factly whilst I sat next to him, having a mental breakdown.

"Um, I'm not Lily, you know that, right?" I asked slowly, pondering on the possibility of Poppy overlooking a concussion that caused him to blabber nonsense. His eyes did continuously flicker over my shoulder like a madman.

"I know that," he rolled his eyes.

"Then why?"

He shrugged. "I wanna hang out with you."

I raised an eyebrow, "That's not a reason."

"Do I need a reason other than wanting to spend time with you?"

"We've been hanging out for the past months, why the sudden need to date now?"

James huffed impatiently, "Are you telling me that you don't think something is going on between us?" My eyes widened in surprise, a sense of déjà-vu hitting me when I remembered Sirius saying the same thing not long ago.

"No?" I squeaked, still in shock before I narrowed my eyes at him, "Definitely not. You are in love with Lily, remember?"

"No, I'm not," he said with a blank face, "Not anymore."

"Oh yeah? All of a sudden?"

"Yes, all of a sudden."

"I don't believe you," I shook my head, causing him to stare at me in disbelief, "You've been pining after her for years and now you want to tell me you are over her, just like that? And after her you want to go out with someone like me?" I shook my head again, "Unbelievable."

James' eyes softened, "It did not happen just like that. I've just come to realise that my affections were shallow...I don't really know her and the way she treats me is not the most lovable as you might have noticed."

I winced, her past yelling echoing in my memory, "Yeah...I have. But still, this feels like I'm gonna be a rebound and I don't really want to be the filler for anyone."

"You are not a rebound! Merlin, Cec!" James huffed, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"What? You can't blame me for being suspicious," I defended myself, "Why would you even wanna date me? Just because I'm nice to you in comparison to her?"

"Yes!" he almost exclaimed, throwing his arms up, "That's it. You are nice, incredibly so. And yet...you are still sarcastic and witty. And you make the worst jokes ever."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know how to persuade shit but give advices that are surprisingly convincing. You have the aim of a hippogriff when it comes to spells in DADA but you still manage to throw a Quaffle through the hoops from a bloody mile away."

"Cec!" he grabbed my shoulders, completely turning me towards him, "You are full of contradictions and make no sense at all. And maybe that's exactly why I want to date you."

I wondered when he had noticed all these things about me when I said, "I don't know whether I should feel flattered that you know this much about me..." James beamed. "Or creeped out." His grin deflated into a pout, "The first please. I'm usually not observant."

"Please, you are a Seeker and Quidditch Captain. You are nothing but observant," I retaliated.

"Touché," he responded with a shrug, "So, what do you say?"

"Say to what?"

"Say to going out with me, Cec!" he exclaimed impatiently.

"Oh, that..." I sighed, trying to ignore the way my racing heart shouted at me to say 'yes' already. After all, he would be the first to date me and possibly become my first boyfriend, too. Which was basically everything I had been missing to complete the whole adolescent experience. Besides, I really had no reason to not agree on a date; he was good-looking, kind if he wanted to be, charming even teachers like McGonagall (her twinkling eyes ain't gonna lie) aaaand he was good-looking. I could say 'yes' just because of this and to finally receive my first kiss but a churning in my stomach - my gut instinct - told me it was a bad idea.

"Cecily," James called me out of my thoughts and I shook my head slightly, "Talk to me. What's holding you back?"

"I'm not really sure myself," I said slowly, "Let me think about it, alright?" James nodded, "I'll be patient."

The next morning...

"ARE YOU GONNA SAY YES OR NO?" James yelled from across the hallway and I cringed at the number of heads that turned at the commotion, halting in their way towards the Great Hall for breakfast. I waved at Alice and Marlene to go ahead as I turned to face the messy-haired boy jogging up to me.

"So much for being patient, eh?" I commented, my cheeks still red from the attention around us.

James huffed, "How much can someone think about something this easy?"

"It's not easy," I protested lightly though 80 percent of me was already convinced to say 'yes', "It's a huge thing for me."

"It's not a huge thing," James rolled his eyes and I almost pouted at the sting in my chest, "Not?"

"No, it's just one date. No big deal, eh?" he stated.

"Well, I've never been to one," I pointed out quite shyly, embarrassment colouring my cheeks. Better tell him I was a freak at the beginning when he had the chance to still run away.

James shrugged, "Me neither." My eyes bulged, causing him to blink. "What?"

"You? Never on a date? You?" I spluttered in shock.

The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow, "You've been here the past few years, right? Has Evans ever said yes to me?"

"No, but...," I trailed off. I had thought he would have at least tried dating besides wanting Lily. "Why have you never tried dating anyone else before?"

"Why would I if I'm not interested in them?" he asked back though cringing right after his words. I looked at him weirdly, "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied hastily, regaining his composure, "So what do you say?"

"You haven't really given me a lot of time," I pointed out and he moaned in despair, "Why does no one want to go out with me?"

"It's not that," I relented, giving him a pitiful look, "It's just I think no one can overlook the fact that you've been in love with someone for almost your entire school career. For it to just disappear is strange."

James breathed in deeply, straightening up, "Believe me when I say I've...wasted enough of time thinking about it. And yes, it was hard giving up on her but on the other hand it's not because she is never been mine to begin with."

I looked at him almost sadly. "And don't give me that pitying look," he accused, pointing at my face, "I'm really done with her. And I want to start fresh. So...will you go out with me?" he asked with a sigh as if already expecting me to say no.

Regarding him quietly, I decided to not reply to it directly, "Come on, let's go eat breakfast." James blinked. "You can't expect me to answer on an empty stomach now, can you?"

"You need food to make a decision?" he asked with a judging look as he fell into step beside me and I shrugged, "I love food. Now you know what to do if we go on a date." I could practically see the reels turning in his head and pinpoint the exact moment he realised what I had said as his face started to split into a wide grin.

"This is how it feels when someone says yes?" he wondered, his chocolate brown eyes shining like a kid.

"I said if, Potter," I replied but he seemed to be in another world already, muttering to himself on how he could finally ask Padfoot for some dating advice, "I said if-"

"If means yes," he beamed, skipping away with a fist pump whilst I shook my head in confusion. "No, it doesn't?"

"Yes, it does!" he yelled over his back, already far ahead as I stood rooted in my spot.

Was I going on a date with Potter now?

Apparently, I was. Or at least, the whole school seemed to think so. After History of Magic the whispers about James' dating a mystery girl roamed the halls and everyone tried to figure out who Cecily Grant was.

I rolled my eyes, I really seemed to have been a nobody in this school despite playing Quidditch and being friends with the popular girls of my year. That changed now after someone started spilling what had just - not actually - been decided earlier this morning.

"Is it true?" Marlene asked in Potions as I sat down next to Alice, Lily on her other side.

"Is what true?" She rolled her eyes, "You know exactly what I'm asking. Is it true that James asked you out?"

"Well...yeah," I replied, feeling weird at the unknown feeling of having a positive answer on a question like this.

"Wow...," Alice breathed, "He really is over you, Lils. Who would have thought?" The red head stayed surprisingly quiet.

"Isn't it exciting though?" Marlene squealed, "Our little Cec is finally growing up. Going out on dates!"

"Oi, I'm not little," I grumbled though I couldn't help but grin back at her wide beam.

"We have so much to do!" Marlene whispered urgently whilst Slughorn recited his instructions for the potion of this lesson; Draught of Living Death. It was a complicated procedure, which should give us enough reason to listen attentively, however, we didn't. "You definitely need to get a whole makeover. And get your hair cut," she started making a list of things and I raised my eyebrows higher and higher the longer it got.

"You want to make a whole different person of me?" I asked after even Alice, who was all for 'be yourself' added a few things.

"Of course not," Marlene rolled her eyes, "But you don't wanna scare away your first date with your armpit hair, do you?"

I went red; So what if I was too lazy to regularly shave it? "When is he going to see my armpits anyways?"

Marlene gave me look before grinning slyly, "You wanna be prepared for everything." As if on cue, we all turned to look at the boy that started all this, cackling at something Sirius was whispering to him. Upon feeling our gazes, he turned to shoot me a sweet smile. My blush deepened as Marlene and Alice started giggling.

"You know I'm pretty glad he is going out with you," Lily randomly blurted as she unsuccessfully tried to cut her Sopophorus bean to get the juice out. I watched the frustration grow in her face, though I didn't know if it stirred from the bean not being cracked or something else.

"Figures. You must be so happy he is leaving you alone now," Alice stated lightly, turning to her own cauldron.

"Yeah...really happy."

Class ended with no one really succeeding with the potion besides Severus Snape, by far the best in our year. I spent the rest of the day avoiding eye contact with any curious being - and there were surprisingly a lot of them; Alright, I knew if it hadn't been me I would be extremely eager to figure out who managed to sway James away from Lily myself, too. But did people not know how to exercise discretion for Merlin's sake?

"This is getting ridiculous," I muttered as a bunch of Fifth Year girls stared at me unabashedly.

"What is?" Marlene asked disinterestedly, already used to this kind of attention.

"People staring," I whispered as we walked past the girls whispering something about 'Potter' and 'Evans'.

"Oh, you will get used to it," the dark-haired girl waved off, "You better, anyways. You are popular now."

I scrunched my face, "Because I'm apparently dating a popular boy?"

"Not just any popular boy. One of the Marauders," Marlene said as if it was the biggest thing ever. I briefly wondered if that would change her attitude towards me when she continued with a mischievous smirk that strangely reminded me of Sirius, "And not any Marauder but the one who has sworn his life to another, one of your friends nonetheless." She straightened up, flipping her hair back, "If that isn't juicy gossip, I don't know what is."

"So much for becoming popular because I'm a good Quidditch player," I grumbled to myself. Don't get me wrong, I kind of loved the attention even if I wasn't used to it and I had been dreaming of being acknowledged by others all the time after staying in the shadows of my friends for so long. For some reason it bugged me though that the only way for that to happen was because of me dating a boy.

"Hey, you don't know that, maybe they recognise you for your Quidditch skills now," Alice tried to cheer me up when she saw my pout, "You know, since Angie's last games are coming up, people are naturally going to wonder who will take her place."

"And it's gonna be James' future girlfriend!" Marlene announced loudly, causing me to slap her shoulder quite hard, "Ouch! Cec!"

"Shut up, will you?" I whispered embarrassed, ducking into the library, "I'll see you at dinner."

"Sure, try and hide but the limelight will find you everywhere!" Marlene called after me dramatically.

Who would have thought that the library would be my sanctuary when I used to avoid this place like the plague? Well, people do change...

"Cecily?" I jerked out of my lying position, the book 'Quidditch Through the Ages' that had been draped over my face falling down with a thud. "Wha? I'm awake."

"What the hell are you doing?" Sirius asked amused as he placed his books on the small table in front of the couch I was settled in.

"Eh, studying?" I replied, dusting myself of with an embarrassed laugh, "What else would I be doing in a library?" Sirius raised an eyebrow and I deflated. "Alright, I was hiding."

"Hiding? Of what?" He sat down on the armchair across the couch, occasionally glancing over me. We were in a pretty secluded place where you could still overlook the rest of the library, which I chose wisely to avoid Madam Pince throwing me out for using one of her books as a sleep mask.

"Of gossiping beings," I whispered in a conspirative manner.

Sirius' expression cleared. "Ahh, the rumours about you and Prongs dating has spread then," he concluded, smirking to himself, "Splendid."

"Not splendid. It's annoying," I huffed, and he looked at me in surprise. "What, you don't like the attention?"

"Not this kind of attention," I said pointedly. The boy stared at me, still confused. "I don't wanna be known because I'm dating James Potter. Why does no one recognise me for my Quidditch skills or something?" I groaned, dropping back against the couch.

"I see," Sirius said quietly and if I had looked, I might have seen a flash of guilt in his eyes, "Sorry about that. It could have been me, who spread the news."

I lifted my head, ignoring the fact that I was proudly flashing my double chin as I started at him incredulously, "What? Why the hell would you do that?"

"Well, I was proud of Prongs that he finally asked someone out, who would say yes for once," he defended himself but I noted his voice catching slightly. "And he is going on a date after six bloody years. About time, honestly," he muttered to himself.

"Good for you, Black. But it's not helping my case," I grumbled, rubbing my forehead. Sirius kept quiet before he leaned forward with a smirk, "Come on, people always talk but the gossip will die down at some point. Might as well bask in the attention while it lasts."

I shot him look, "Why are you here again?"

Sirius barked a laugh before he shushed himself quickly. I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion and he coughed slightly before pointing at the stack of books between us, "Research."

Craning my head around I read the title of the book on top, "The Tales of Beedle the Bard?"

"Exactly," Sirius said too quickly and too stiffly, "Got a problem with that?"

I giggled, "What are you researching for?"

"Ways to overcome boredom," he quipped.

"And you chose the library for that, of all places," I wondered.

"Yes..."

"..."

"Alright, Grant," Sirius huffed exasperatedly, "If you must know everything that is going on in my life...I'm here because of Reg."

Gasping dramatically, I chuckled when he shot me a look, "Was that so hard to tell me now? Why lie about it?"

"Because I don't want you to avenge me by spreading rumours that I'm stalking my brother."

"...I would have honestly never considered that," I said, and he sighed in relief, "Until now." I grinned wide like a Cheshire cat.

"Grant..," Sirius started with a warning tone, causing me to laugh and wave him off, "I'm just joking. I'm not like you to spill private information out to the world."

"It wouldn't have stayed private for long anyways!"

"Whatever, where is he then? I have never really seen him before," I mused, sitting up when Sirius stopped me, "Don't. At least be discreet if you have to be snoopy."

I grimaced at him, straightening up casually, "...Gotcha."

"Good." He nodded at something behind me.

Whipping my head around I eagerly scanned the library with wide eyes, ignoring the groan emitting from behind me. "Target spotted," I muttered to myself like I would whenever I spotted the Quaffle as my gaze landed on the slightly scrawnier version of Sirius.

"This is your way of being discreet? Are you serious?" the grey-eyed boy asked as I settled back down.

"No, you are." I chuckled as he gave me a blank stare, mentally high fiving myself for finally using that pun on him. "He's cute," I commented, looking over my shoulder at the boy quietly reading a book and scribbling something down on his parchment, "Looks a lot like you. But less...sharp."

"Sharp?" Sirius questioned, picking a book from his stack and pretending to flip through it as he glanced at his brother. His attempt was futile for the cover was upside down. I grinned, deciding not to tell him.

"Yeah, his features are softer," I mused, "He looks more approachable than you."

"Please," the older one scoffed, "He's a Slytherin. They are never approachable."

"Well..." That was probably the only reason why his brother wasn't as popular as him then. Many thought Slytherins weren't approachable and that in turn made them pretend they weren't actually approachable for real. Mind you, I remembered meeting many decent Slytherins in the first few years until they fell under the group pressure. "At least, among his peers then."

Sirius looked over the boy, who was oblivious to all the talk about him, and started smirking, "For sure. He is my brother after all." I rolled my eyes in amusement but didn't fail to notice the fond tone in his voice whilst he stared at his brother. Something akin to longing flashed in his grey eyes.

I opened my mouth to ask him whether he had tried talking to him but decided that it was not my business. "Well, I'm off then," I said, yawning as I stretched my limbs and went to get up.

"Wait!" Sirius snapped forward hastily to hold me back. "Can't you stay? Just for a bit...let's look like we are studying," he requested, shooting me a pleading look. I relented almost immediately, not because of his admittedly cute expression but due to the fact that his brotherly fondness made my heart melt.

"If you want to make it believable that we are studying you will have to get another book...and actually not read it upside down," I pointed out with a grin. Sirius spluttered, sheepishly turning the book over and we sat back in a companiable silence.

"So, are you going on a date with Prongs now or not?" he broke the few hours of peaceful quietness around us and I groaned internally.

"It was so nice right now, Sirius," I complained, and he grinned.

"It's still nice, you just have to give me the right answer."

"Which would be?"

"Yes, I am going out with Prongs, Sirius."

I sighed, "I sometimes think I don't really have a choice."

"You're right about that."

"Sirius!"

The dark-haired boy chuckled to himself before scrutinising me. I squirmed slightly under his gaze, wondering what he was thinking about. "What is it?"

"I believe...you would actually do him good," he said slowly, and I raised an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Sirius said with the shut of his book and stood up, stretching himself. I turned to see Regulus was already long gone. "At least you seem to accept him the way he is."

I stared at him in surprise.

"Come on, let's get dinner."

"Padfoot! Cec!" James shouted from behind us and I cringed as once again a few heads turned to look at the commotion.

"You will get used to it," Sirius whispered with a grin as his best friend jogged towards us, "What's up, Prongsie?"

"Where have you been all afternoon?" James questioned, glancing between the two of us.

"Eh, snogging some girl," Sirius replied with a shrug and I gave him a weird look. James' eyes widened. "Not her, Prongise," he continued with a pat on his shoulder, "Don't worry, she's all yours."

"Excuse me? I'm right here," I complained when James grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulder and causing me to almost flinch in surprise at the sudden touch.

"If that's the case, you don't mind giving us some privacy, do you, Pads?"

"Of course not. Have fun, Prongsie. Cec." With that 'Pads' left, whistling a cheerful tune.

"Where are we going?" I asked as James led me away from the Great Hall, "I'm hungry."

"That's why, dear Cecily, we're heading to a very special place."

"Which is where?"

"The kitchens."

My eyes widened as I took in his words. "You...know...where...the...kitchens...are...?" I asked almost breathlessly.

James grinned widely. "I knew you would be interested." He leaned down towards my ear, "Yes, the kitchens. Food accessible around the clock, whenever you want to eat. Midnight snacks, second breakfasts, afternoon lunch..."

"That sounds too good to be real," I sighed dreamily, blissfully unaware of him chuckling at my expression, still leant in.

We went down several stairs until we reached near the dungeons where I presumed the Slytherins had their quarters along with the Hufflepuffs nearby.

"Where is it then?" I asked eagerly.

"Right...here," he announced cheerfully, pointing at the painting of a fruit bowl.

I deadpanned, "Food in a picture is not actual food, James."

"I know that," James rolled his eyes though his blush told me he hadn't always known. Grinning at the imagination of him trying to grasp food from a picture, I watched him tickle the pear in the bowl. To my bemusement it giggled before transforming into a green door handle.

"My lady," James announced as he pulled the painting aside, "Take a faithful step closer towards heaven on earth."

Following his orders, my jaw slackened at the sight; a high-ceilinged room, big as the Great Hall - if possibly bigger - and filled to the brim with pans and pots...and elves.

"Elves work at Hogwarts?" I asked in surprise. I had always wondered, who was responsible for the amazing food that was presented to us daily out of nowhere. A few tiny heads turned at our entrance and some shuffled over with big eyes.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter is back!" they greeted the boy next to me, shooting me curious looks, "What can we do for Mr. Potter and his friend?"

"Cecily," I introduced myself lamely with a wave.

"What can we do for Mr. Potter and Ms. Cecily?"

James chuckled. "Just get us whatever you think is your most delicious dish this evening, please," he requested kindly. The elves nodded eagerly, shuffling away towards the crowd of elves bustling around busily. "Come on," he gestured towards a set of tables with chairs on either side. As soon as we sat, the table started getting filled by various foods and my mouth watered at the sight.

"Dig in!" James urged cheerfully, filling his plate.

"This. Is. Heaven," I said through a mouthful of chicken, sighing blissfully through my nose, " And this is all just for us! How did you find this place?"

"Well, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail and I were setting up some pranks for the Slytherins-"

"As usual."

"-when we saw a few older Hufflepuffs sneak out of their dorms. I believe, one of them was the Head Boy. Naturally, we followed them-"

"You mean, you stalked them," I pointed out and he shot me a peeved look.

"We followed them," he continued with extra emphasis on the word and I snorted into my cup of pumpkin juice, "And watched them enter through the pear."

"That's it?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and he nodded with a shrug, "That sounds almost boring."

"Excuse me?" he spluttered. "What do you mean boring?"

"Well, when I think about all the crazy prank stories you've done that people talk about, I figured the way you found this place would have been some kind of adventure."

"How else would we actually find a place like this?" James asked with a raised eyebrow, "It's not like you can stumble and tickle a pear in a painting by accident now, can you?"

"If anyone can do this, then it's you," I said, pointing at him with my cup and he grinned as if that was a compliment. It probably was.

"Enough about me," he waved off, gulping down his bite, "I wanna know about you, Cec."

"Oh yeah?" He nodded and I swallowed down the chicken, wincing at my suddenly dry throat, "What do you want to know then?"

"Something no one else knows about you," he requested easily, and my eyes widened at his confidence.

"Ehm, there is not really anything interesting that no one knows about me."

"Please, everyone has a story," James stated, leaning forward, "What is yours?"

"I'm not old enough to have a story, yet."

"You want and at the same time don't want to become a Healer," James pointed out, "That has a story."

"You know about that already. I've told you about my parents," I said back, and he nodded.

"Yes, and now I wanna know another story."

"…That's my only story."

James narrowed his eyes, "You are really stubborn, aren't you?"

"So are you," I replied with a grin before sighing at his steady stare, "Honestly, I don't know what you want to hear. My life is not as exciting as yours."

"...Tell me why you like the Montrose Magpies?" he asked after a while, and I laughed.

"Alright, but only if you tell me why you like the Chudley Cannons."

"Deal."

And thus, we started talking about our likes and dislikes, our favourites in every thinkable department and other light topics. It wasn't until the elves started crowding around us, asking if we needed anything else that I realised we had stayed here long past dinner.

"It's probably almost midnight," I mused, yawning behind the back of my hand.

"We should head back," James agreed, standing up and thanking the elves around us for the food.

Quietly, we padded across the halls towards the Gryffindor Tower, having talked enough for tonight to have a peaceful lull in our conversation. Giving up the password to the Fat Lady, James gestured for me to get inside and I sighed at the warmth of the fireplace that was still lit in the Common Room.

"So...I would say that was a nice first date..." I almost choked on the intake of my sigh, my peaceful inner mind waking up with a whirlwind of thoughts. 'What the-'

"Right?" James pushed, turning to look at my surprised expression as I coughed.

"Eh..what- that was- was it?" I stumbled over my jumbled words and he grinned.

"Was it not?"

"We never said-"

"Doesn't matter, I consider it as our first date," James announced, raising a hand to lightly graze my red cheeks. My red cheeks from coughing. Yeah. "Besides, you would have just disagreed if I had said it was a date."

"You tricked me!" I spluttered indignantly, "You tricked me with my biggest weakness."

"You gave that weakness away yourself," James stated with a grin as he walked backwards towards the boy's dormitories, "Anyways, I wouldn't mind a second date, Cec. Just saying."

And with that he and his frustratingly cute and mischievous grin vanished from my sight.

Chapter Seven

#james potter x oc #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #James Potter #sirius black imagine #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders fic #fanfiction #james potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt6 / On AO3

Lan Xichen comes to Yunping City with a secret mission in his heart. Things don't quite go according to plan.

Huang Quiling bowed deeply and thanked Lan Qiren and Jiang Fengmian once more for their help dealing with that gang of fierce corpses, which had escaped from the Burial Mounds of Yiling and made their way to Yunping City. He had explained, when they'd arrived, that he’d asked two Great Sects for their help because it had seemed to him that anything concerning the Burial Mounds required close attention. It had made sense at the moment, but Lan Xichen now realised that above all else Yunping Huang was a very small, very young sect that just didn’t have the manpower to deal with such a threat.

Not that the threat had been too great, in the end. The fierce corpses had been dealt with quite easily, just like in Lan Xichen’s memories. More easily, perhaps, since he’d remembered exactly how and where to strike them for a quick victory. For that reason, young Jiang Cheng had been particularly impressed by his performance, and Nie Huaisang even more so.

Nie Huaisang who shouldn’t have been there.

While his uncle and sect leader Jiang discussed with sect leader Huang about precautions to be taken, and what to do with the remains of those fierce corpses, Lan Xichen allowed his gaze to drift toward Nie Huaisang. The younger boy was standing on his own, near the lined up corpses, observing them with bored curiosity as if he’d never seen fierce corpses before and wasn’t too impressed by the sight.

It might well have been the case. Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue had rarely managed to drag his brother on Night Hunts, and always had to select very easy preys even when he did… not that Nie Huaisang ever did much when he was brought on Night Hunts anyway. Lan Xichen doubted he’d ever so much as subdued a small ghost, at an age when other boys already had killed several monsters and conducted exorcisms.

And yet, as soon as he’d heard about this Night Hunt near Yunping City, Nie Huaisang had begged to come.

Lan Xichen had been so stunned by the request that he'd almost refused on principle. Night Hunts were serious business, even one he knew would go smoothly, and idle observers always brought trouble. Besides, Lan Xichen had big plans for that trip to Yunping City, and knew that agreeing to let Nie Huaisang come meant he’d be put in charge of the other boy, which would disrupt his efforts to find and recruit Meng Yao into Gusu Lan.

The very last thing Lan Xichen wanted was for Nie Huaisang to be following him around while he tried to change that part of history. Partly because he dreaded anything that would bring together those two future enemies, but mostly because Nie Mingjue would never forgive him for taking his precious little brother into the brothel district.

Lan Xichen had wanted to refuse.

He should have refused.

He hadn’t, and even pushed against his uncle’s reluctance when Lan Qiren said, not without wisdom, that it might be a dangerous Night Hunt for someone of such a low level. But Lan Xichen had insisted, knowing as his uncle did not that the fierce corpses would reach the borders of Yunping City already weakened and too disoriented by their long walk to put up much resistance.

Besides, Lan Xichen hadn’t expected Nie Huaisang to do much except stand around and allow others to deal with the threat.

He’d been right. Nie Huaisang had stayed close to Lan Xichen the whole time, having apparently decided that this was the safest place to be.

That, along with the request to come to this Night Hunt, was giving Lan Xichen an impression of progress. That was something he desperately needed, he realised while watching Nie Huaisang wander among their group. The younger boy had proven surprisingly reluctant to the concept of making friends. Or at least, he’d been resisting all of Lan Xichen’s efforts, and showed no interest in the other guest disciples either, while developing an apparent obsession with Su She, of all people.

A mutual obsession, judging by the way they were both always seeking each other. A dangerous obsession, Lan Xichen thought, and so when his uncle had wondered about taking Su She with them, Lan Xichen had been forced to disagree.

They didn’t need a traitor in their midst.

Truly, if Lan Xichen had had the power, he’d have ordered Su She away already, even if it was unfair when he hadn’t yet committed any crimes. Still, since he intended to bring Meng Yao to the Cloud Recesses and keep him there, then Su She couldn't be kept around. It would be better to avoid…

“Lan gongzi, did I do something bad?” Nie Huaisang cried out, suddenly appearing in front of Lan Xichen, startling him. “You’ve been looking at me for a while and you’re frowning… I’m really sorry I wasn’t much use at all, you know! I swear I didn’t mean to drop my sabre like that, and then it would have been dangerous to get it back!”

Lan Xichen smiled, and tried not to wonder if Nie Huaisang had dropped his weapon on purpose.

Tried and failed. It was hard to not suspect Nie Huaisang of secretly scheming every time he cried out about being stupid, every time he failed at some easy task.

“You’ll have to try to train a little harder,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “You could have gotten hurt. You’re lucky there were others to protect you, but it might not always be the case.”

“I’d never go anywhere dangerous without someone strong,” Nie Huaisang retorted with an insolent grin. “Or anywhere dangerous at all, if I can help it. I thought maybe Night Hunts would be more fun without my brother shouting at me, but in the end this was still scary and boring. I don’t think I’ll try again.”

Only years of good education prevented Lan Xichen from rolling his eyes. “I hope Nie gongzi realises that these things aren’t about having fun,” he said. “It is about helping those in need, and defeating evil before it can cause harm to innocents.”

“Is it?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking sincerely surprised. “I thought that was just something people said. But I guess Lan gongzi is such an honest person, of course you’d really believe that, right?”

Lan Xichen tensed.

It was amazing, really, how Nie Huaisang always found exactly the most awful thing to say, and to make something like ‘honest’ sound like an insult.

“What’s going to happen now?” Nie Huaisang asked, blissfully unaware he’d said anything wrong. “It’s still pretty early in the day, do you think we’ll have a chance to visit Yunping City a bit? It'd be really neat if we could. I even brought my pocket money in case I see something nice.”

So that was why Nie Huaisang had wanted to come, Lan Xichen realised, instantly relaxing. For tourism, and to get a break from lessons. It was such a simple and innocent reason, perfectly fitting the sort of person Nie Huaisang appeared to be, but Lan Xichen had been too taken by his future memories of a ruthless manipulator. Perhaps it hadn’t all been a comedy. Perhaps until his brother’s death, Nie Huaisang had really been just silly. Just an ordinary, lazy teenager whose only agenda was to make as few efforts as possible.

It gave Lan Xichen some comfort. He would have been blind in that future he wanted to avoid, but perhaps that was because for the longest of times there really had been nothing to see.

“We need to do some clean-up first,” Lan Xichen explained, gesturing toward the defeated fierce corpses. “But I’m sure that won’t take too long. We might have the afternoon off at least, if shufu and Jiang zongzhu wish to talk with Huang zongzhu.”

They would, as Lan Xichen already knew. In fact, they had so much to say that the Lan and Jiang wouldn’t start heading home until the following afternoon. It should give Lan Xichen plenty of time to look for Meng Yao and find a way to bring him to Gusu, so he could be prevented from ever joining Lanling Jin.

Somehow.

“Will this take long?” Nie Huaisang asked, glancing toward the city.

“It’ll take less time if you help,” Lan Xichen suggested. “You’re here anyway, so you might as well. And I’m sure your brother will be proud of you if he hears you did your part.”

The advice caused Nie Huaisang to grimace and sigh, as if being asked to participate was the very worst thing he’d ever been ordered to do. In the end, he was more of a hindrance than anything, until Lan Qiren told him to get out of the way. That order he obeyed quite efficiently.

When all the fierce corpses had been purified, their group headed back into town, toward Yunping Huang's home where they had all been invited to stay. It wasn't a very large place, so while Lan Qiren and Jiang Fengmian were offered their own rooms to freshen up, the juniors had to share one room between all of them, Lan and Jiang mixed together.

Several basins were offered to them to clean a bit, as well as some light collations to help them last until the next meal. Some of the boys were more interested in chatting than in getting clean. The Jiang boys in particular seemed quite talkative, blabbering between themselves about their great deeds, talking about how much they'd boast to Wei Wuxian about the great Night Hunt he'd missed out on, and even trying to start conversations with the Lan disciples to comment on their technique.

Even Jiang Cheng, who Lan Xichen remembered from his future as severe and joyless, was chatting with enthusiasm. He also kept glancing toward Lan Xichen, as if wishing to say something but lacking the nerves to actually do it. Lan Xichen found it a little amusing to think that the terrifying future Sandu Shengshou had once been shy, but didn't pay it much mind.

He had a goal to accomplish while in Yunping City, and mingling with peers would have to wait.

It did not take too long for Lan Xichen to clean up and be ready to head out again. As he prepared to do so, he stumbled upon his uncle who asked him whether he’d seen Nie Huaisang. It appeared that while everyone went to rest and freshen up, Nie Huaisang had left the house, and alone at that.

Although he tried his best to look suitably worried, Lan Xichen almost leaped from joy at the news. Nie Huaisang’s mischief gave him the perfect excuse to head out as well… and since none of the other juniors were done cleaning up, since the adults had much to discuss, Lan Xichen had no trouble at all arguing that he could go alone after his friend’s brother. He promised to be careful, and to bring back Nie Huaisang as soon as he found him. He’d have promised anything, really, and only felt mildly guilty for immediately heading in the direction where he thought Meng Shi’s brothel should stand.

Lan Xichen had not often come to Yunping City, in that future he remembered, and the town had not left a very big impression on him. On this present Night Hunt, he’d mostly been worried about supervising other juniors while his uncle discussed politics with the other two sect leaders. Then, on his second visit, Lan Xichen had been a prisoner, weakened and worried that after having been kidnapped by the man he had trusted the most, he might get murdered once he outlived his usefulness as a hostage. In such circumstances, in neither of his visits Lan Xichen had really paid attention to his surroundings. Adding to this the fact that Yunping City would change a good deal in the twenty years to come...

Lan Xichen got lost.

He got immensely lost, and realised, a little late, that he couldn’t ask for direction. He’d never learned the name of the brothel where Meng Shi worked, partly because he’d never thought to ask. Why would he have ever needed that information? Why ask a question that would only have upset his dear friend by reminding him of his origins?

Of course this wouldn’t have been a problem if there had only been one brothel in Yunping City.

There were many more than one brothel in the city, as Lan Xichen discovered when he reached the right neighbourhood. Wrong neighbourhood.

A neighbourhood.

Since it was only afternoon, there wasn’t too much activity going on, aside from the different brothels starting to get ready for the night, or welcoming a few special clients. Walking in the streets, Lan Xichen heard laughter coming from the buildings, and arguments as well. He found himself forced to mostly keep his eyes to the road in front of him, because looking up meant he risked catching a glimpse of a lady or young man in a partly undressed state, arguing from a window with someone in the street or just enjoying some fresh air. But of course, refusing to look up made it virtually impossible to try and recognise the building he was looking for.

After well over a shichen of aimless wandering, Lan Xichen felt himself fall into despair. This plan of his might not have been very well thought out, and he was well and truly lost now. If his uncle came looking for him and found him in such a place…

“Lan gongzi?” a squeaky voice called out, startling him. “What are you doing here?”

Lan Xichen turned, and found himself staring at Nie Huaisang.

It would have been hard to say, between the two of them, who was the most embarrassed one. Nie Huaisang certainly looked quite stunned, but perhaps also a little upset that he had cried out like that instead of escaping unseen. Lan Xichen had a feeling the younger boy wasn’t quite as lost as him.

“I was looking for you,” Lan Xichen explained. “And then I ended up here.”

Nie Huaisang let out a curse. “Damn, I thought I’d been more discreet than that,” he grumbled, confirming Lan Xichen’s suspicion. “Well, cat’s out of the bag, uh? I’m here because I figured I might buy some spring books without anyone breathing down my neck. So, uh, I’m quite well as you see, so you can go back. I’m sure I won’t be very long. Well, I hope. I’ve just got to find what I’m looking for.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t refrain a small smile upon hearing this. He knew, distantly, that Nie Huaisang had eventually become quite well known among guest disciples for having smuggled some spring books into the Cloud Recesses. Apparently, it was a hobby in which he was already quite invested, if he’d dared to venture alone in such a part of an unknown city.

“You really should head back to the Huang sect's home,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “It’s getting late, and you might get in trouble.”

“I’m in trouble already since you found me,” Nie Huaisang muttered, nervously glancing around. “I’m… I’m not really finding what I want so far, so I’d like… please Lan gongzi, can you pretend you didn’t see me and let me look a little longer?”

“I promised I’d take you back as soon as I found you.”

Lan Xichen paused, and considered the situation. It was obvious that Nie Huaisang wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as him in this place. Maybe if they walked together, Lan Xichen himself would feel more at ease, and even manage to actually look at the buildings surrounding them to try and recognise those that had been near that temple, twenty years in the future.

“Nie gongzi, if you must really stay here, then at the very least I should stay at your side to make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

Nie Huaisang startled so badly at the suggestion that he nearly tripped and fell. His face turned very pale, and he started fidgeting nervously with his sleeve. He hadn’t yet gotten into the habit of always carrying a fan, as he would during the following year, or else Lan Xichen knew Nie Huaisang would have opened such a fan and hidden behind it.

“Lan gongzi! This really isn’t a place for you!” Nie Huaisang squeaked.

“And it is one for you?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. His face was turning grey with anguish, while his eyes looked red, as if he might cry.

“I’d really rather be alone, it’s too embarrassing if you’re here,” he whined miserable.

“You’re just here for spring books, right?” Lan Xichen asked, worried that the younger boy might have wanted to do more than merely look while in such a neighbourhood. “You’re not here to…”

“No!” Nie Huaisang urgently shouted. “No, I’m just here to… I just wanted to… I was…” He took a deep breath, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “Lan gongzi, believe it or not, but I had no bad intentions at all. But something like this… how could I do it with you around? I just can’t… you’re too… And it’s getting late now, and it’ll be impossible to… ah, I messed this up, I really messed this up!”

He’d burst into tears, sobbing loudly and attracting the attention of a few passerbys. Lan Xichen knew he should have said something, tried to calm the other boy, but the sight of those tears, the tone of his voice, brought back unpleasant memories.

Lan Xichen found himself frozen, and unable to breathe.

Nie Huaisang had sounded, would have sounded the same all those times he’d come crying for help after the death of Nie Mingjue. The same pathetic tears, the same stuttering, all lies, all pretences.

Lan Xichen couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t…

“Lan gongzi?” he heard Nie Huaisang call to him, voice distant, as if coming through a thick wall. “Lan gongzi, are you unwell?”

Lan Xichen didn’t answer.

One needed air to speak, and he still couldn’t breathe.

He was feeling as if he might pass out from the lack of air, when the feeling of a burning hand on his own freezing one pulled him back to the present.

Lan Xichen took a deep, shaky breath, then another, and another, until he found himself in control again. The whole time Nie Huaisang held his hand, still sniffling and crying a few tears. His face was splotched with red, and his nose was runny, when Lan Xichen had always taken him to be the sort of person blessed enough to become more handsome with tears. Perhaps it meant this fit of crying was real, when other ones had been staged.

He couldn’t imagine the man Nie Huaisang would become holding anyone’s hand while they were unwell, nor indeed letting anyone’s discomfort distract from his own antics.

There was comfort to be found in that.

“Sorry, I sometimes have episodes like this,” Lan Xichen explained when he felt capable of speaking again. It hadn’t been the first time his other memories provoked an intense reaction, and he feared it wouldn’t be the last either. “I hope I didn’t worry you too much.”

“It was really scary,” Nie Huaisang said, squeezing his hand tight. “You looked like you were going to faint. Actually, you still don’t look too good.”

Lan Xichen didn’t feel so well, truth be told. He knew from experience he probably would be a little uneasy until he’d slept.

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he still insisted. “It could be dangerous.”

After glancing around at the now busier streets, Nie Huaisang sighed deeply. He let go of Lan Xichen’s hand and quickly wiped a few new tears.

“It’s too late, I don’t think I can do this,” he mumbled, sounding rather more emotional than he should have been about mere spring books. “I’d get in trouble now that the brothels are opening for the night. I’ll just… I don’t know. I really don’t know what I’ll do,” he sighed, and for a second Lan Xichen thought he was going to lose his breath again, until Nie Huaisang spoke again. “I can’t leave you on your own when you’re unwell, anyway. Da-ge would never forgive me. So let’s head back, and like that I can help you if you start feeling bad again.”

At some other time, Lan Xichen might have laughed, or at least smiled at the idea that Nie Huaisang could help him in any way. Whether he was a foolish boy or a scheming avenger, Nie Huaisang wasn’t one to help others.

But it was the other boy’s hand on his own that had called him back to the present, and Nie Huaisang certainly looked sincerely worried.

“Thank you, I think I’d like that,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m really sorry for ruining your fun.”

“It wasn’t much fun anyway,” Nie Huaisang replied as they started walking back toward the local sect. “And anyway, this is important too.”

Lan Xichen said nothing, a certain tiredness slowly creeping up inside him as a consequence of his moment of panic, but he smiled faintly.

Maybe he really was making progress with Nie Huaisang. And as for Meng Yao, there was always the following morning to try and find him.

Nie Huaisang was scolded by Lan Qiren when they returned to the Huang sect's dwellings, promised punishment, and ordered not to wander off again. He looked as if he might cry again, being talked down like this in front of everyone, but he just pinched his lips and nodded along, as if accepting he would be punished this harshly. It was not quite in character for him, since he usually was more the sort to argue and whine to get out of trouble, and he looked utterly depressed, almost as much as he would in a few years upon losing his brother.

If Lan Xichen hadn't been so exhausted by his moment of panic, he would have made a note of it and tried asking the younger boy what was wrong. As it was, he could barely stand anymore and had to excuse himself to go sleep before even having dinner. He thought his uncle looked a little disapproving, aware surely that such a simple Night Hunt shouldn't have tired him so… but Lan Xichen didn't care. All that mattered was sleep, so he could leave that day behind him.

Sleep, however, brought less rest than Lan Xichen would have liked. He had nightmares throughout the night, though he couldn't remember them when he opened his eyes. He thought they'd had to do with Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao, perhaps also with Nie Mingjue, but he couldn't be quite sure.

He didn't want to remember those dreams.

It wasn’t quite dawn when Lan Xichen woke up one final time. He quickly decided that he probably wouldn’t manage to go back to sleep, not when it might bring more nightmares. Instead he got up quietly and got dressed. As he did so his eyes scanned the room he shared with other juniors, and noticed that Nie Huaisang wasn’t present, his bed slept in but currently empty. Lan Xichen, who had wanted to meditate until the other Lan disciples awoke, changed his plans and instead went to look for Nie Huaisang.

He didn’t have to go very far. Yunping Huang’s home wasn’t large, and there weren’t many places a guest might wander off. After checking at the door with the Huang disciple on watch duty, Lan Xichen learned that Nie Huaisang had indeed tried to go out only to be denied, and had been directed to the courtyard if he didn’t want to go back to bed. That was where Lan Xichen found the younger boy, sitting on a bench among some potted plants, restlessly moving his legs in small jerky movements and chewing on the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood.

Lan Xichen walked closer, making sure to step a little harder than he normally would so Nie Huaisang would hear him coming. Even like this, Nie Huaisang appeared startled when he noticed he wasn’t alone anymore, and went completely still for a moment. He quickly recovered though, and without getting up bowed to Lan Xichen.

“Good morning, Lan gongzi. You’re up early, are you still unwell?”

“I’m much better. Thank you again for helping me yesterday. May I ask why you are up so early? I never took you for a morning person.”

“Well, I am, actually,” Nie Huaisang said, wringing his hands. “Early mornings are good for bird watching, you know. And I’m a night person too, because, well, there’s a lot of birds in the evening too. It’s the middle of the day I don’t like so much.”

Lan Xichen smiled, pleased that Nie Huaisang, for once, would speak to him so freely. He gestured at the bench. “May I sit with you?”

“You’re not scolding me for being awake when I shouldn’t be?”

“I’m awake too, how could I scold you?”

That answer appeared to satisfy Nie Huaisang, who motioned for Lan Xichen to sit.

"I really should be sleeping, I know that," Nie Huaisang said, words shooting out of his mouth at high speed. "I tried, but I couldn't. And then I wanted to go for a walk, but I was told I can't, because the city has a curfew on because of those fierce corpses and also to avoid smugglers, and what if I got in trouble, or someone attacked me because I look like I have money, and also your uncle said I'm punished so I wouldn't be able to go out anyway. But I'm really bored, and I really need to go into Yunping, it's very necessary."

Nie Huaisang paused to take a breath, then resumed speaking at a more resonable speed.

"Lan gongzi, do you think you might help me go out? I have something really important I have to do, you see. I think I'll be in huge trouble if I don't do it. And if you help me…"

"What is it you need to do?"

"Can't say," Nie Huaisang muttered, instantly closing off.

"Then you have to understand I can't…"

"I can't say what it is, but I can say it's important," Nie Huaisang corrected, starting to chew on his nails again. "It's very important, and I'll owe you a favour if you help me. Please, Lan gongzi? I swear I won't do anything bad, please believe me!"

His hands clenching on the fabric over his knees, Lan Xichen felt on the verge of another attack of breathlessness. If only Nie Huaisang had come to him in that horrible future, if he'd asked his help then…

Before panic could really seize him, Nie Huaisang grabbed the hem of his sleeve and pulled on it like a child demanding attention.

"Please Lan gongzi, please help me and I'll do anything you want!"

"Anything?" Lan Xichen asked in a voice he barely recognised, as if he'd already started struggling to breathe. Nie Huaisang didn't appear to notice, and nodded eagerly.

If Lan Xichen had slept better, if he hadn't had so much on his mind, he might have told Nie Huaisang that his help didn't need to be bought, or invoked a friendship that didn't exist yet between them. But he was only half awake still, and there was in fact one thing he wanted from Nie Huaisang, something which had caused him immense distress and worry for weeks now.

"What if I asked that you distance yourself from Su She?"

Instantly Nie Huaisang let go of his sleeve and jumped to his feet, his face twisting into a mask of contempt.

"Then I guess I'll just do this on my own, if you're going to be like that! I can't believe… well, maybe I can,” Nie Huaisang laughed darkly. “In the end, Lan gongzi is no better than others, eh? You hold just the same ideas as the rests! It's fine. I don't need your help, if you only give it upon such a condition!"

Lan Xichen stood up as well, and grabbed Nie Huaisang by the wrist to stop him from leaving.

"I didn't mean that," he lied, terrified he might have ruined all his efforts already. Terrified, also, by the apparent strength of Nie Huaisang’s attachment to Su She. "I was just trying to tease you, but I'm not very good at it. I thought…” He hesitated, looking for a decent excuse only to panic again. “Isn't it common to tease people on their crush?"

"My what?" Nie Huaisang sputtered, so shocked he stopped struggling to free himself. "He's not… I'm not… I don't think? I mean, I do like him a lot, I guess..."

Seeing the other boy's growing confusion, Lan Xichen winced. From watching other boys his age make friends, he had assumed it was normal to tease on such a matter, and that the accepted reaction was always to vehemently deny having a crush on anyone, let alone on another boy. He had hoped that the unexpected accusation would confuse Nie Huaisang enough to make him forget his anger.

If instead, after having forced the encounter with Su She, he ended up causing a romance between the two…

"Huaisang, I swear I'll help you sneak outside if you forget I said anything," Lan Xichen pleaded. "I was just… I'm still a little tired and I said nonsense, please forget it."

Nie Huaisang kept silent a moment more, still thinking over that matter, before turning his attention back to Lan Xichen. It seemed to the older boy that something had changed in Nie Huaisang, who now stood a little stiffer and watched him with even less warmth than before.

“I’ll take Lan gongzi’s offer,” he said coldly. “The second offer, to be clear. But I have to say, I don’t think you should make jokes. You’re really not good at this.”

On that matter, at least, they could agree, Lan Xichen thought as they both sat again, and silently waited for a more reasonable hour to head into Yunping City. He was starting to realise that making friends was a much harder endeavour than he’d ever expected.

Lan Xichen had never tried to make anyone like him, be it in this life or the other one he remembered. His uncle had always taught him that only inferior men needed to go out of their way to obtain the good will of others, while men of true quality would let their actions speak for them and find peers of equal rank in that manner. Lan Xichen strove to be polite to people regardless of rank or affection, because being disrespectful to others was also the mark of an inferior man, but he had never tried to cross the distance between himself and others, convinced that friendship would bloom naturally where it was meant to do so.

Looking back on it, Lan Xichen realised that the man he would have become only ever had two friends, and very few people that could be described as more than acquaintances. Three friends, if one included his younger brother… but it left something of a sour taste in Lan Xichen’s mouth to think that he needed to include Lan Wangji in such a list. Most people, he was aware, didn't need to count family among their list of friends.

What bothered him the most, though, was that his future self hadn’t even minded. After everything that had happened, he had counted himself lucky to even have a friend like Jin Guangyao, and had been willing to close his eyes to anything that might have displeased him about the other man. Lan Xichen had convinced himself that he didn’t need to become close to others, all because becoming close to others meant exposing himself to the pain of losing them, should they die.

He hadn't been very good at dealing with loss.

Lan Xichen didn’t want that part of his future, either, he realised. Being an accomplice to crimes was awful, certainly, but this bothered him as well. He had no interest in becoming that lonely man who hid everything behind a smile of empty warmth.

Sadly, that meant he needed to learn to make friends

Judging by the side glares Nie Huaisang was throwing his way now and again, and the way the younger boy kept moving aside so there was as much space as possible between them, as if Lan Xichen's very proximity were now intolerable to him, making friends wasn't going to be easy.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #this one is a bit long oops lxc had a lot of thoughts ok #It would have been longer but I decided to cut it in two already so... yeah

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Quick Thoughts: Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl Reveal Trailer and Initial Roster

Whelp I didn’t expect to be doing another one of these so soon but welcome to quick thoughts where I give well quick thoughts on stuff instead of the longer form reviews I usually do.

So as longtime or even short time readers of this blog might know I love NIck. I don’t review shows from it as often as Disney or Cartoon Network, but it was still a beloved part of my childhood and still makes great shows today such as the Loud House, Harvey Beaks and Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It’s horribly mismanaged, which is why two of those shows are no longer with us and the last of them is weirdly missing from this game, and have a long and storied history of screwing things over.. and i’m not exagerating when Mr. Enter, no matter your opinon of him now, did a whole marathon of every nicktoon almost every entry included the fact the show had been screwed over in some way.

But as anyone who knows my history with Disney will tell you just because I don’t sugarcoat a brand I like’s fuckups dosen’t mean they aren’t near and dear to me at the same time. I”m a grown up: I can have complex emotions towards a chlidren’s tv network. So I love it’s varied shows some of whom (Avatar, Harvey beaks again, Danny Phantom, Hey Arnold) are among my all time faviorites.

Now something readers of my blog probably WOUDLN’T know is I love Nintendo, they have their own fuckups like weird release strageies and never doing a remotely decent discount like the competition, but their still a company I love and since I only play handhelds most of the time are my primary source of good shit. So naturally Smash Bros is my faviorite franchise of theres. I love the idea of fighting games but often struggle with the combo heavy nature. So Smash Bros, having a roster of some of my faviorite characters ever, a plaformer style control scheme, and a deceptivley simple style that’s easy to learn and fun to master with the right character, is my shit. Sure I won’t rush out to buy every dlc character, but you better belivie I played the hell out of Ultimate, will likely go back to it again some day, and did buy Banjo and Kazooie because fuck yeah.

So yeah I needed to talk about Nick making their own smash bros clone. When I heard the rumors I wasn’t sure, mostly because Rumors can be just that.. but nope this game is happening and i’m all on board for it. This isn’t Nick’s first crossover rodeo in recent memory either also making a pair of Kart Racing Games: one I KINDA wanted to play till I looked at the roster, had a good laugh and lost that i want, and the other I really want to play as it seems like the first game if it were you know an actual game with a decent track selection, a deep character roster and an actual love of it’s properties.

So making their own Smash Bros was a logical step and one i’m here for. We haven’t had any of the big cartoon networks make one since well.. Cartoon Network, and Nick has just a deep a bench to pull from, one that will hopefully get CN to get their cast to throw hands once more.

For now though the idea of the vast history of nick all throwing hands with each other is amazing. Look i’m honest with myself: this looks like a decent smash clone,functional but nothing specail, but with the expressive character animation and solid roster you need for a game like this. I know going in i’m not going ot get Smash Ultimate quality of brawler, but i’m probably going to have fun with it.

The only downside I see so far is , like the Kart Racers, theyd idn’t seem to get ANY voice actors for this which smacks of laziness, especially since most of the voice actors for these characters are still active, and in some cases like Spongebob or Loud House are still working with you. So you have no real excuse for this, shame on you.

But yeah the game looks good.. despite the trailer being pretty bad. It’s just some generic music set to “LOOK WHO WE GOT”. And granted look who they got is really spiffy and i’ll be diving into that in a second, but it dosen’t give any of these characters a reall chance to show off how they play or how awesome they are. It’s just a bland montage of whose in the roster in the same 2 or 3 stages. And when you have 15 stages overall to show off that’s not excusable. Again i’m not expecting Smash level quality revelas, this game dosen’t have the marketing budget, but you have a really great concept and roster here, you coudl’ve revealed it better and this game better. The Kart Racers 2 Trailer was also mildly bland but it did show off the game better, showing off several tracks and how VASTLY improved the roster was, so you CAN make a good trailer you just didn’t. It felt like they thought the poitn of all the smash reveals trailers was here’s a character and missed all the style and substance to them.

That being said while the trailer was weak.. it was boyed by the fact this roster is REALLY damn good. Let’s face it I woudln’t even be talking about this game if the roster wasn’t this minty but they clearly learned from Kart Racers not to half ass it and while they learned the long lessons from Smash in how to promote the fighters they have, they learned the right lessons in having a nice mix of crowd pleasing faviorites for kids and vetrans alike along with a few deep cuts for said longtime fans. And this is JUST the intitial reveal roster: Given the Box Art isn’t out yet, I feel there’s more to come, especially since despite being perfect for the game there’s no one from the Avatarverse yet, but I also feel that Nick is saving that for a second trailer to announce the release date. But I can and will go into who i’d LIKE on the roster in another one of these sometime soon. -

Spongebob, Patrick and Sandy (SpongeBob Squarepants): I’m getting these three out of the way as their essentially to this what Mario and Co were to smash: necessary and inevitible. As for who was chosen.. it was as obvious as putting spongebob himself int he game. Sponebob is Nick’s mascot, Patrick is nearly as iconic and Sandy is well loved as well as the spongebob character most associated with buttkicking. Being an expert martial artist is both part of her character and a cerntral part of her character and relationship with Spongebob. So yeah not a lot ot say here: it was ineivible but I don’t mind at all having grown up with them and with my niece and nibling being huge fans.

87 Leo and 87 Mikey (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles): This one i’m mixed on. Not on the turtles being here: i’m a MASSIVE TMNT fan and i’td be stupid to leave them out since Nick Owns them, made the last two series, and they fit this kind of game like a glove, even having had their OWN smash clone to themselves once.

No my issue is obviously in the version choseN: The 87 turtles. Again I have no beef with the guys themselves, I haven’t seen much of 87 but I want to and they look really gorgeous and nicely cartoony. It’s just a REALLY weird choice. The 87 turtles have never been on a nick network due to rights issues, have never been associated with nick, and aren’t the ones most kids of EITHER DEMO would be familiar with: Grown up fans of nicktoons from the 90′s like myself would be more familiar with 2003, and kids and teens from more recent eras would be more familiar with 2012 and rise, which REALLY should’ve been the rep. I mean their weird shame of rise bothers me enough on a good day but not using EITHER show you actually made bothers me, it bothers me a lot. I’ll still probably play Mikey, i’m not made of stone and as I said I have no beef with the 87 turtles, I just wish nick had used the others or hell just gone all lin and used one turtle from each cartoon. I mean if your going to use stuff you’ve barely aired why not give me some 2003 nostalgia too huh? Though it could just be that since, unlike the rise and 2012 turrtles the 87 turtles have the same body type and colors it was easier to just do all 4 and just give each unique facial expressions. Who knows... I knows it was probably that.

Lincoln and Lucy Loud (The Loud House, Duh): Another pretty obvious one as The Loud House is currrently nick’s co-flagship show with spongebob. Still waiting for my diffrent world spinoff with Bobby and Lori guys. So yeah Lincoln isn’t a suprise and Lucy is only minorly one as it was a matter of “which sister”... and Lucy is one of the most popular. Neither really fit a combat setting.. but given this is a fun crossover game, that really dosen’t matter and in fact is kind of the fun: taking just the most insane matcchups imaginable and mashing them together. I mean this is a game where Lincoln and Lucy can beat up Leo and Mikey, why wouldn’t I want that kind of crack on my nintendo switch? I am hoping for Luna to make her way to the stage next as she was absent from Kart Racer 2 and would be really fun to play. Plus having ANOTHER bi fighter in the mix if korra gets in there would be awesome, let alone letting the two beat up or punch each other’s face. But again I could and probably will mak ea whole article about other possible fighters i’d want.

The Plesant Suprises: Nigel Thornberry , Oblina and Powdered Toast Man (Wild Thronberries, Ahhh! Real MOnsters1 and Ren and Stimpy) : Yeah while only one of these cartoons was a faviorite as a kid (Wild Thornberries)... I have nothing but respect for these choices. One of the funnest things about Smash is while you can see some roster members coming sometimes you get utter curveballs like Mr. Game and Watch, Pirana Plant and MInecraft Guy. They also go for more cult franchises like SNK or Earthbound (the latter of which is fucking awesome localize mother 3 already dammit) too among the big heavies, making it feel like a true tapestry of Nintendo’s history.

Nigel is the only one of these three that’s really obvious. He’s a meme, he was the best part of his show.. but it’s still just uniquely batshit to put NIGEL THRONBERRY in a fighting game. You better belivie he’ll be one of my mains.

Oblina is more a suprise because I thought they’d go with Icket, but instead went wtih the character who was more popular and had a really unqiue and cool design, so i’m pleased as punch to have her. Finally while I don’t have any real attachment to ren and stimply apart from Log, and really it’s hard to gain any now knowing i’ts creator was a pedophile piece of shit, the franchise is still a cornerstone of nick history, the rest oc the crew didn’t abuse power or not make deadlines or be a com plete piece of shit, and powerded toast man is genuinely great. I”d love to see Really Big Man too, clash of the weird superheroes, I love me a weird as hell superhero. This also speaks promisingly that w’ell get some real weird curveballs to come and i’m here for it.

The Rest: Helga, Zim, Danny and Reptar. (Hey Arnold, Invader Zim, Danny Phantom and Rugrats! ): Note i’m not lumping these together because their bad: their all graet nostalgic picks from timeless shows and with the rugreboot currently running on Paramount+, it’d be weird not to represent them.

And since I brought it up reptar is a fun chocie, another oddball but one more understandable as no one wants to beat the shit out of a toddler. Or rather no one playing the game would care you could because it’s a silly fighting game and a 12 and 8 year old are also beat upable, but someone would probably throw a fit somewhere. Plus again it’s a game where you can have danny phantom fight reptar. Shut up and take my money.

The rest are all great choices if ones I’m not suprised by: Hey Arnold’s an all time classic and being tough is a lot of Helga’s character, and again I can have her throw hands with nigel thornberry, reptar and a ninja turtle in the same match. Zim is another fan faviorite and fits the game like a glove and Danny Phantom is the one out of Nick’s three suprehero classics it actually still cares about so my boy getting in there isn’t a shocker, though his attacks lookw eird. Hopefully they green them up before the final prduct.

So yeah overall it looks really promsing and really fun and i’ll probably check this game out if I get enough money when it comes out or more likely put it on my christmas list. But I will get it somehow this i swear.. speaking of which put manny in the roster dammit. If you liked this.. thing consider joining my patreon for a buck a month fo exclsuvie reviews and ot help me review tuca and bertie, amphibia and more as part of my memebership drive.

#nickelodeon #danny phantom #the wild thornberry's #spongebob squarepants #hey arnold #teenage mutant ninja turtles #ren and stimpy #the loud house #ahh! Real MOnsters #rugrats

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clara-licht · 3 years

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you are enough: first impression

Summary: She was just another face in the crowd, someone you wouldn’t look at twice. He never really noticed her. That is, until the fifth day.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warning: burst of anger? should that be a warning?

Timeline: Peter's first school year, pre-spider bite

Note: yay for first story! I wrote this under 3 hours from sudden burst of energy, so if you spot any mistake please let me know! This story is taken directly from my real experience on my fifth day of university. What happened then followed me even until now, but now my friends and I can look back on that day and laugh. Please tell me what you think about this 💜

Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

——————————

Peter first noticed her on the fifth day of his first school year. Well, actually everyone in his class noticed her on that fifth day.

He had seen her a few times in some of his classes that week, but he didn’t really pay attention to her. After all, she was just another classmate. She was also pretty quiet and kept to herself most of the time. He didn’t think he had even heard her speak before.

Always wearing an unzipped jacket over a shirt, pants, a pair of Converse, and with her red Kipling backpack. Sitting on the second row. Earphones are usually on in between classes. As far as Peter was concerned, she was just another face to forget.

Until that fifth day.

He had come into class almost late that morning. It was Friday and Fridays always felt so slow since it’s so close to the weekend. Peter admitted his almost tardiness was the result of being too lazy to wake up on time when all he could think of was having the weekend off after a week of school.

The only seat left was the one behind her, so he just took it. His best friend since childhood, Ned, wasn’t in that class, and he didn’t really know anyone else yet, so no one saved him a “usual spot”.

When the teacher came in, Peter was already prepared to pay attention, hoping that the day would go faster if he was busy.

“We’re going to do a group project starting next week. Each group will take turns presenting their assignment every week, so that’s one group per week.” The teacher, Mrs. Warren, said. “Let’s see… We have 24 people here, so split into 6 groups of 4. I’ll give you 10 minutes to assign your own groups now.”

The classroom immediately erupted into chatter while Mrs. Warren turned her attention to the computer screen on her desk.

Peter felt some kind of dread as his classmates started talking among each other on how to split the class. He had nothing against group projects, but he knew virtually no one in this class and would most probably be left out and joined the “leftovers”. He could only hope that whoever winded up in his group could pull their own weight instead of just dumping their work on others.

Therefore he was pleasantly surprised when the girl at the front seat (“I think her name is Sally?”) turned around and said, “Should we just use our current seating to split the group? That way it’s random and fair.”

There were a few hums of agreement.

The classroom they were in had 8 long desks, 4 on each side of the room, with 3 seats per desk. So taking that into account, the group should consist of one student per desk. Seeing as Peter was sitting right behind her, that meant they would be in the same group.

Peter looked at who would be in his group. Aside from her, there were Sally (“It is Sally, right? Right…?”) and behind him was a guy whose name he couldn’t really recall. (“It’s either Tyler or Abe, I think…?”) Peter could kind of remember them being active in other classes, so that was a sigh of relief for him.

Until another student piped up.

“I don’t want to be in this group!”

Peter glanced at that student. ‘Ah, this one I know,’ he thought with a slight eye roll.

Eugene Thompson, though he insisted to be called Flash. He’d been loud in every class they shared and bragged a lot. One of those rich kids, Peter assumed. Growing up in a modest household, bragging about money was never something he could understand. If you had enough money to brag about, then maybe use them for charities and stuff instead? At least that was Peter’s opinion.

“Then which group do you want to be, uhh, Thompson, was it?” Sally asked.

“Call me Flash,” he answered. “And I don’t know, I just don’t want to be in this group!”

“Why?”

“I just don’t like it.” Flash shrugged nonchalantly.

Peter could see Sally’s eye twitch in annoyance. “It’s just one assignment and you don’t really have a reason.” She tried to say.

“Why would I need a reason? Mrs. Warren said we can choose our own groups, and I don’t want to be in this one. I don’t vibe with it.”

Despite being annoyed himself, Peter decided to just sit back and watch everything unfold. He didn’t need to attract attention to himself. With his big glasses and frail figure, he looked very nerdy and jocks like Flash liked to pick on nerds. He didn’t need that.

The banter between Sally and Flash went on for a while. Peter was sure everyone in the class was pissed but no one said anything, probably because they didn’t know each other and didn’t want to say something wrong accidentally. It was getting very annoying, though. And to make it worse, Mrs. Warren didn’t seem to care.

While listening to Flash, he didn’t notice the girl sitting in front of him glaring heatedly at Flash with clenched fists and gritted teeth.

“I’m just saying, why can’t I-”

SMACK!

Flash’s words were interrupted by a sudden loud smacking noise, causing nearly everyone to flinch.

The girl in front of Peter had smacked her palm on her desk and stood up, pointedly glaring at Flash with a glare so intense it could probably burn him, clearly seething with anger.

“STOP MAKING EVERYTHING DIFFICULT, FOR GOD’S SAKE!” She yelled.

Peter blinked.

Did the quiet reserved girl just… yell?

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?!” She yelled again, this time coming closer to Flash. Flash gulped and took a step back. “You don’t even know anyone in this class! It’s only our FIRST WEEK!”

“But I-”

“ZIP IT!”

Flash shut his mouth so fast Peter could hear his teeth clacking.

“Our teacher is waiting for us right now! If you have any complaints about your group then speak up properly once you KNOW them! SO JUST GO WITH IT FOR NOW AND GET THIS DONE AND OVER WITH!”

The class was silent. She was still glaring at Flash and Flash was cowering in fear.

To be honest, Peter was afraid of her too, but deep inside he was impressed. When no one else spoke up, she did. Maybe with a bit of an overkill, but she still spoke for the rest of them. He’d take that.

“Any more complaints?” She asked through gritted teeth.

Flash quickly shook his head.

“Good.”

She sat back down and looked away as if nothing happened.

No one said anything for a while, still in a bit of a shock.

“Um, well…” Sally cleared her throat, “So are we decided then? With this arrangement?”

A chorus of yes later and Mrs. Warren finally spoke, “Give me your group lists later after class. I trust you can arrange it, Ms. Avril?”

Sally nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, let’s start our lesson for today.”

As Mrs. Warren started teaching, Peter couldn’t help but stare at the girl in front of him. This was the first time he actually looked at her.

The first thing he noticed, although it may sounded rude, was her… size, so to speak. She was considerably bigger than the rest of the girls in his class. She was clad in plain unisex clothes. From what he had seen earlier, he could find no trace of makeup on her either. She actually looked a little messy, not fitting into that traditional feminine look.

Not that Peter had anything against femininity or even not conforming to said femininity. He was raised by a respectful pair of husband and wife who drilled respect for diversity and people’s choices into him. Aunt May would also have his head if he had even the slightest misogynistic thought. No, he knew better than that.

Around ¾ into the lesson, Mrs. Warren told them to go into their groups and start discussing their projects.

“Let’s start with introduction, I guess?” Sally said once all four of them were together. “I’m Sally Avril, but just call me Sally.”

“I know, I was in your History class.” The girl from before said. Her voice was actually quite soft when she wasn’t yelling. Peter was once again surprised by her.

Sally giggled at her, prompting her to let out a small smile. “I’m (y/n) (l/n). Feel free to call me (y/n).” She said quietly.

“I also know that already. You sat two desks from me, didn’t you?” Sally asked with a smile.

(Y/n) nodded. “Also I apologize for earlier… I just couldn’t stand him.” (Y/n) muttered with narrowed eyes.

“We don’t blame you, honestly,” the other guy in the group said. “Flash was being a dick. I’m actually glad you spoke up against him,” he snickered. “I’m Tyler Corbyn, by the way. People usually just call me Ty.”

“It’s just that no one said anything, so I thought I had to put a stop on it. He was disrespecting our teacher by misusing the time she gave us like that.” (Y/n) scoffed.

“And you?” Sally turned to Peter.

“Oh, um… Peter. Peter Parker.” He mumbled.

“Okay, now that we’re introduced, let’s talk about the assignment, shall we?”

After the discussion, the group agreed to meet up after school on Monday to start their project.

Sometimes Peter would let himself glanced at (y/n). He had to admit, even if he was still a bit scared of her, she didn’t seem that bad. He just needed to not press her buttons or risk her blowing up. She still had a short temper, after all.

He was certain that the rest of his classmates realized this too. They were all afraid of her, for sure.

It was kind of a bummer, but her display of anger that day would follow her for nearly her entire high school days. All the boys in their class feared her, especially Flash, and tried to avoid her. The girls would eventually befriend her once they know more about her.

And Peter? Well… He may thought she was scary for now, but there was respect within him. His Physics class seemed quite interesting now.

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Notes: yes, I did yell in class when the professor was present and yes, she didn’t give a shit about it.

Taglist + Mutuals (let me know if you want me to untag you!)

@marvelexi @lou-la-lou @spiderbibby @hello–zuko-here @everydaymj @galaxystern08 @allegra-soleil @fancyxparker @delicatepeterparker @parkerpeter24 @terrifictomholland @quackeroos @angel-spidey @greenorangevioletgrass @awkward-darkness @chloecreatesfictions-archive @tonguetiedholland @peterspideysstuff @and-it-burns-like-a-fire @geminiparkers @weirdowithnobeardo @perspectiveparker

#peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #tom holland #mcu #marvel fanfic #peter x reader #peter x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #you are enough

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fishoutofcamelot · 3 years

Text

It has come to my attention that after all these years I still have not told yall about the Cell City Incident. Well, it’s time to rectify that

Realistically i know this story isnt all that funny, but its probably the only interesting thing that will ever happen to me so let me have this dammit

So! I was 12 years old. My science class was doing the Cell City project. For those of you who don’t know, Cell City is a thing that some schools around the US do where everyone has to make a physical/visual model of a cell. We spent a full month learning about the cell, studying its components, and using class-time to design/construct our models. A full month. Logic dictates that I should have this in the bag, right?

Well. That’s only if you use your classtime wisely. I, the dumbass I was, had the chronic inability to pay attention in class, and instead spent all my time sitting in the back and watching “Keroro Gunso the Super Movie 5” about fifty times in a row.

So no. I didn’t work on the my Cell City Model. I hadn’t started it. I didn’t even know the first thing about cells, because I hadnt listened to a single thing my teacher had said for the last month.

And to make it even worse than that, I didn’t realize this until the night before this very important, grade-defining project was due

So. I panicked for about ten minutes - and then, true to form, procrastinated again. Told myself I could just work on it in the morning. And then rolled over and went to bed, nary a trouble to be seen.

Come morning, the morning this big project was due. I had twenty minutes to eat breakfast, get dressed, and whip together a project that SHOULD have taken me a month to prepare, and also was about a subject i had no knowledge of.

So. I looked up ‘cell anatomy’ on Google, found an old poster-board in the closet, drew a bunch of random shapes and labeled them as various parts of the cell, and then used pink and orange highlighters to color everything in. It was TRASH, and it looked hideous, but it got the job done.

But! I was also worried that everyone else in class would be doing posters too, and if there’s one thing you should know about me its that since birth i have been afflicted with the deeply american need to be Different For The Sake Of Being Different TM.

So on my half-hour walk to school, I contemplated ways to jazz up my mediocre poster. And you know what I came up with? You wanna know what my tiny, lazy, absolute dumbass past self came up with?

I had the oh so brilliant idea to just. Tape the poster to my chest. Just take scotch tape and attach it to my body. And then dance around saying, “Hi! I’m Planty, the magical plant cell that came to life!” Essentially roleplaying as a cell while i tell people about what all my body parts do.

Yeah. I really did that. The limits of my stupidity know no bounds, but in my defense I was 12 and also an idiot and also pressed for time

So, eventually presentation time rolled around. And when my teacher strolled by my desk and asked me to present to him, I did the shtick. “Hi, I’m Planty the magical plant cell that came to life!” And proceeded to spend three minutes riffing on whatever information I could only vaguely remember learning earlier that morning - because my dumb ass had struck again and neglected to take any actual notes

At the very end, my teacher paused, wrote down my grade on his little rubric clipboard sheet, and said, “That was very creative. I can really tell you spent a lot of time on this.”

And looking back I realize he was probably being sarcastic, but in the moment? Hearing him compliment the effort I had put into a 20-minute Hail Mary? I absolutely ascended.

I got an A.

Now here’s where things get tricky. The moment presentations were over, I tore the poster off my body and theatrically ripped it into shreds. But little did I know, my teacher had decided to enter me in for a community outreach presentation night thing, where parents and civilians could come to the school and review everyone’s best projects.

And he entered me in. And the project I was supposed to present? The Cell City poster. Yknow. The one I had slam-dunked into a trash can in the hopes of getting someone to pay attention to me (no one did, obviously)

But my teachers didnt know that. They just eagerly approached me like “Oh, your science teacher told us all about the Planty thing! We’re all so excited to see it!”

So I lied through my teeth. I told them that I couldn’t remember where I put the poster, but I know I left it in the storage room next to the lab. Which resulted in me being led around the school for a half hour in search of something I already knew full well had been destroyed. Because I had ripped it to shreds. With my bare hands. I even primal-screamed while I did it, too.

In the end, my history teacher dejectedly lent me his laptop so I could showcase a Prezi I’d allegedly made about Old Growth Forests. I say ‘allegedly’ because in truth no such presentation existed, but I told him it did, and hastily whipped together a Prezi in the five minutes his back was turned. I got good reviews for that presentation too, but thats only because the people reviewing me were parents, and parents know youre supposed to be nice and supportive to kids that arent your own

(That night, my parents asked me how it went. Not wanting them to think I was a total failure, I lied and said I had made a new friend named Sebastian. There was no Sebastian. A month later, they suggested that we invite Sebastian over sometime, to which I hurriedly lied and said he was moving to Wisconsin like tomorrow and I was never gonna see him again. I know for a fact that they probably didn’t buy it, but they never brought it up so neither will I)

To this day I remember almost nothing about cells, and even in college I still pull dumb crap like this. So that’s a big fat ‘no’ on whether I learned my lesson. But my teacher already gave me the A, and I’ve already graduated, so its too late. No take-backsies.

#every time someone says im Smart or a Model Student #i instantly flashback to the Cell City Incident #i also flashback to the time it took me 18 years to realize why they call it a butter knife #its because you knife butter with it. revolutionary i know #long post #fish post

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purrincess-chat · 4 years

Text

My Chosen’s Keeper CH2

Posting a little early, but I doubt anyone will complain. ;) Who is the mystery voice from the end of last chapter?

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

The putrid smell of old cheese hit her before she even turned around, and the lazy black cat that accompanied it lounged on his side. He tossed a wedge of Camembert into the air and caught it in his gaping mouth, swallowing it whole with a gulp.

“Plagg!”

“Great prank, sugar cube. Did you see the look on her face?” He snickered, clutching his swollen belly.

“It wasn’t a prank!”

“Oh? Then I suppose that sink just malfunctioned all on its own?” He raised a brow, and her cheeks warmed.

“What are you doing in here?” Tikki asked, and a mischievous glint flashed in his eyes.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, circling her—a cat hunting its prey. “It’s been the weirdest day for your owner. First someone accused her of cheating, but the answers weren’t in her bag. Then someone accused her of stealing, and magically, the necklace was returned to its rightful owner. Almost as if she had someone watching over her.”

Tikki averted her gaze with a sigh. “Okay, you caught me. I meddled. Are you going to lecture me about it?”

“Nah, lecturing’s not really my style,” Plagg said, leaning back and propping his arms behind his head. “I’m actually impressed you’re finally getting back at that girl, sugar cube. It’s about time you did something fun. Our owners are such pushovers when it comes to her. Don’t you think someone should teach her a lesson?”

“Plagg, no! I’ve already done enough. From now on we should stay out of it,” Tikki said with an emphatic shake of her head.

“So, you want this girl to keep tormenting your owner?” Plagg asked.

“Well, no, but-”

“Hasn’t she already been nearly akumatized because of this girl? And in this very bathroom too. What if she can’t fight off the akuma next time?”

“I know, but-”

“Just think of how awful the world will be if Hawkmoth gets his hands on those earrings. Not to mention you’ll be under his control, and the whole entire world will be-”

“Alright, alright!” Tikki snapped. “I know she’s dangerous. That’s why I interfered today, but we can’t just go around meddling in human affairs all the time. We’ve already been seen by a human once. What if it happened again?”

“Relax, sugar cube. You worry too much.” Plagg waved it away, but at her glare, he added, “Look, no one believed that cranky old bat anyway. Everyone thought she was crazy. Besides, it’s not like anyone can capture us.”

“I still don’t think it’s right, Plagg,” Tikki said, and he rolled over and floated down to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, you know this girl is out to hurt both- bleh and Ladybug. Stopping her could be our most important mission yet,” he said pointedly, and Tikki lowered her gaze.

“Okay, but how are we going to stop her? If we foil her plans, she just comes up with new ones. She’ll never stop until she succeeds,” she said, and Plagg tapped his chin.

“I think you had the right idea earlier. This girl won’t be able to scheme if she’s too busy worrying about the universe playing tricks on her,” Plagg said, but Tikki darted several paces back.

“No way! I already feel bad enough about the sink,” she said, but Plagg gave her a knowing look. “What?”

“Come on, sugar cube. Haven’t you ever wanted to cut loose and have some fun? It’s not like our owners give us any restrictions. We can do whatever we want,” he said, and at her conflicted expression added, “Live a little. Partners?”

He held out a small paw that Tikki eyed hesitantly before shaking. Plagg seemed surprised by her acceptance, his ears sticking up straight, and she’d even surprised herself. But he was right about Lila needing to be dealt with, and she couldn’t in good conscience encourage her master to resort to playing dirty. Besides, Lila was too good. This operation needed stealth that only a kwami could achieve.

“Alright, sugar cube, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

***

Tikki peered out from under Marinette’s lab bench the following day while students worked in pairs. Marinette was too preoccupied with her assignment to pay attention to her which was fine. Part of Tikki didn’t want her knowing what she and Plagg were up to because she didn’t want to be up to it herself.

Plagg popped up underneath Lila’s desk and motioned her over. With a quick glance around the room, she darted over to join him.

“Ready, sugar cube?”

“Stop calling me that, you know I hate it,” she hissed, but Plagg barely noticed. “Are you sure we should be doing this? She’s not even doing anything right now.”

“Yet,” Plagg said, catching her gaze with a more serious expression than she was used to from him.

“Why do you care so much about Lila anyway?” She asked, and he faced forward again, tail flicking.

“Last time she weaseled her way into my owner’s house, she went through his stuff which included my cheese stash. I’ve never felt more violated in my life,” he said, and Tikki rolled her eyes. Typical. “And I don’t like how she uses him.”

Tikki smiled at that then rolled her shoulders in preparation. “Ready?”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One!”

They surged forward, disappearing into Lila’s lab chair then popping out moments later with two bolts. Before anyone could see them, they ducked back under the bench with wicked giggles, but Lila didn’t sit in her stool right away. She wandered over to Marinette and Alya’s bench, concealing a test tube behind her back.

“Oh, Marinette, Nathaniel and I are a little lost. Can you help us?” She said, tipping the contents of the test tube into Marinette’s beaker when she wasn’t looking.

“Here, I’ll go take a look, girl. You prep this next part,” Alya offered, trading places with Marinette, and Lila walked back to her bench with a smirk.

“See? She totally deserves to be put in her place,” Plagg said, and Tikki eyed Marinette’s beaker worriedly.

“We have to do something before whatever Lila did blows up in Marinette’s face. Literally.”

“I’ve got an idea, but we need a distraction,” Plagg said as a loud crash sounded above them.

“Ow!” Lila cried out as her stool gave out under her weight.

“That’ll work,” Plagg said, zipping over to Marinette’s bench.

Together, they lifted her beaker and swapped it with Lila’s while everyone was focused on her.

“How did this happen?” Alya asked, crouching down to examine the stool.

“Looks like some of the bolts came loose,” Nino said, digging them out from under the table.

“Someone must have unscrewed them. Someone’s out to get me!” Lila said, but Mme. Mendeleiev shook her head.

“There’s no need to accuse anyone. These stools are just old. The bolts probably popped out when you stood up. You’re not hurt, so just go back to-” Mme. Mendeleiev’s voice trailed off when Lila’s beaker erupted onto the counter, and she examined it with a sigh. “You’re supposed to add the acid last. There’s not enough time for you to start over. You’re just going to have to take a zero on this assignment.”

“But-”

“No, buts! Next time read the instructions more carefully.”

Everyone dispersed after that, and Tikki and Plagg retreated under Marinette’s bench with triumphant beams. They slapped paws before returning to their owners to await their next mission.

***

Lila was quiet the next day, and Tikki thought that she’d given up on trying to get back at Marinette. It didn’t last an hour. By the end of their first class, Lila was already on the move again, but she was no match for Marinette’s silent guardians.

Tried to hide a book Marinette needed for her history report? Hope she enjoyed the several bumps on her head from a stack of falling books.

Put pudding on the lunchroom chair? Strange how her milk carton mysteriously exploded. She could have fun getting that smell out.

By gym class, Tikki was having the time of her life pranking Lila. She didn’t care if it was mean. Lila was a mean girl, so it was all justifiable in her eyes. Or so she told herself, pushing away the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Plagg was right. It was about time she cut loose, and the more pranks they played, the more she wished she’d done this ages ago. But the most important thing to come out of all of this was Marinette.

“Look how happy she looks,” Tikki said as they watched students pelt each other with rubber balls from their refuge under a cart.

“See? What’d I tell you. Your owner hasn’t had to worry about a thing since we started messing with Lila, and she hasn’t been able to tell as many lies because she’s too busy trying to figure out how her schemes keep getting thwarted,” Plagg said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should listen to me more often.”

“Oh, you mean like that time we went to Italy and you ran into the-”

“I didn’t see it!” Plagg huffed. “Besides, it’s famous for being crooked now, so I did them a favor.”

Tikki giggled, and Plagg’s ears flattened, his tail swishing back and forth. He tackled her to the ground, playfully jabbing the spots he knew were ticklish. The curse of knowing someone for eons was that they knew everything about you, but just like he knew all of her weaknesses, she knew all of his too. Like that scratching behind his left ear always incapacitated him.

“Okay, okay, truce! Truce!” He sighed as his limbs failed him.

The dodgeball game wore on above them, but in their moment of distraction, they’d taken their eyes off Lila. The teams were diminishing swiftly, and seeing as Lila had most of the boys in the class entranced, she’d managed to survive until the end. Kim and Nino were on her team leaving Ivan and Adrien on Marinette’s side, and as Ivan moved to catch a ball Nino had thrown, he opened a clear shot at Marinette.

It was probably a harmless situation, and hitting the opposing team with the ball was the object of the game. Interfering was petty at best, but Tikki and Plagg didn’t care. They tied her shoelaces together, and she stumbled forward, tossing the ball directly into Marinette’s hands.

Mr. D’Argencourt blew his whistle to pause the game as Lila screeched from the ground. She glared down at her twined laces as everyone rushed to her side.

“Art thou alright?” Mr. D’Argencourt asked.

“No! Someone tied my laces together,” she growled, but when she gestured to her feet, her laces were neatly tied into individual bows. “But-”

“You probably just tripped over your own two feet,” Nino said, giving her shoulder a pat.

“But I swear my shoelaces were tied together just a second ago!” She said.

“But we’ve been watching you play this whole time just fine. Besides, how could anyone tie your shoelaces while you were running around?” Alya asked, and Lila sputtered to reply.

“Man, she’s gonna give you a run for your money as the clumsiest person in class, Marinette,” Kim laughed, elbowing Marinette’s side.

“Stop,” she giggled, shoving him back as several of their classmates snickered.

“Regardless of the circumstances, Marinette caught your throw, so I hereby dub thee…out,” Mr. D’Argencourt said, gesturing Lila to the sidelines with the other eliminated players before blowing his whistle. “Resume.”

With Lila out, Marinette’s team was able to easily overtake Nino and Kim, securing their victory. To make matters better, it was Marinette’s turn to clean up the dodgeballs after class, and Adrien volunteered to stay and help.

“You didn’t have to stay behind. It’s breaktime,” Marinette said as Adrien stooped to pick up a ball.

“It’ll get done faster if we work together,” Adrien said, tossing the ball into the cart. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Y-You wanted to talk to me?” She stammered, cheeks burning red.

“Yeah, Lila’s been acting weird lately, don’t you think?” He said, opting to push the cart while she retrieved the balls.

“Yeah, she’s been trying to get me in trouble, but her plans keep backfiring somehow,” Marinette said with a smirk. “I think it’s karma catching up to her.”

“Maybe so, but I mean, come on. Did she really expect anyone to think you would ever cheat or steal?”

“Ugh, I don’t know what happened there, but I’m glad it did.”

“Me too.”

Tikki and Plagg huddled together in the cart, masking their snickers behind tiny paws. They’d tell their owners eventually, but not today.

#miraculous ladybug #tikki #plagg #lila salt #petty kwami au #my writing #hiatus cat

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jiminwreckedme · 4 years

Text

Unfamiliar. (m)

Yoongi doesn’t feel so unfamiliar anymore, now that you feel things you haven’t before.

Genre - Smut, little angst if you peek, fuckbuddy Au (not so pwp, the characters have a bit of a backstory?) Word Count - 12K Pairing - (Bartender!) Yoongi x (Doctor!) Reader Warnings - bit of PDA (touching, making out), dirty talk of sorts, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (Remember folks, No glove, no love), rough sex (maybe slight choking? and restriction too) Music - High for this, Pillowtalk

You don’t know, what’s in store, but you know what you’re here for.

“What can I get you?”

You blink at him with absolute disbelief etched across your face.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m serious.”

What a killjoy.

“Fine.” You give in and lean, resting your elbows on the cold granite stone of the counter. “Surprise me.”

Close your eyes, lay yourself beside me

He stares at you intently for a moment, a very brief moment before he replies.

“Do you have any preferences? What kind of alcohol do you usually get?”

He knows the answer to that.

“Hard liquor.”

Hold tight for this ride. We don’t need no protection

“How do you feel about gin?” He points at a bottle on the shelf behind him. “We have a fine bottle of Copper & Kings, the History of lovers.”

You look at it and cross your arms, eyebrows arched up. Really?

“Or scotch maybe? Lagavulin, 16 years old, has a bit of a savory taste if that’s what you like?”

He knows the answer to that as well.

You don’t reply, looking at him pointedly but he waits, ever so ignorantly for you to use your words.

Come alone, We don’t need attention.

You give up and roll your eyes before answering him. “Remy martin.”

“Sure, how would you like it? Neat, on the rocks, straight up?-”

“Now you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“This isn’t a place to joke around Y/n,” His voice is threateningly low, yet you hear it above all that music. “You are in my workplace.”

Open your hand, take a glass. Don’t be scared, I’m right here.

“If you don’t want me to fix you a drink, I have other customers to handle, excuse me.”

Before you can even answer the question he walks away, grabbing the jigger, artfully spinning it with his fingers.

You stare at him shamelessly, oblivious to everything else, mouth going dry. Of course he was hot, Oh Min Yoongi was hot, but there was something about him standing behind that counter that was unbelievably attractive.

Even though you don’t roll. Trust me girl, you’ll wanna be high for this.

Maybe it was because he was dressed in that spotless see-through white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, all those veins stark against his skin every time he gripped something. Maybe because he had ditched his signature style of those blonde fringes falling into his eyes and had them pushed back, out of his face. Maybe because he was doing his job, hands working fast as though they had a brain of their own, fixing all those drinks with incredible artistic skill. Or maybe because you hadn’t been laid in about three weeks now.

For whatever reason, you were tempted to just pull him by the collar over the counter and kiss the fuck out of him.

But he walks past about 4 times without looking at you even once.

You know because you sit arms crossed, your eyes following his every action. He knows you’re looking at him. You know he knows. Because almost 15 minutes later, he brings two bottles, setting them on the work space right before you, a little less gently than you would have expected, speaking to you in the same tone as earlier, but with a hint of annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Would it kill you to talk to me normally for a minute Yoongi? Like I’m not a customer but someone who you-”

“Watch your mouth,” He shuts you up knowing very well what you were going to say next. “This is not just any place Y/n, I work here. You can’t just turn up here like this.”

“You come to my workplace all the time.”

“You work at a hospital, it’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

Yoongi gives up and he returns his momentary undivided attention towards you back to the drinks in his hands.

“Because people go to your workplace to get treated, like I do.” Your eyes are fixed on the way his hands move. So artistic. “People come to my workplace to drink, and you’ve come here to-”

You look up, meeting his eyes to find him already looking at you.

“-to fuck.”

No I did not.

What, it was okay for him to say that? Although the music was louder now than before, and with no one within an earshot of you, there’s no way anyone but you could have heard him.

“You know, it’s not like I’d say no if you came to the hospital for sex.” You mutter stupidly under your breath. Please tell me you didn’t hear that.

“Not now Y/n,” Ok, he didn’t hear that. “I’m in the middle of work.”

And he walks away again, grabbing a bottle, fixing the pourer onto it.

You watch, as he slowly spills the drink over the back of a spoon into an already half full shot glass before setting it carefully on the counter. Spinning a lighter on his finger, he clicks it and lights the surface on fire, earning the many many squeals of what looked like a bachelorette party. Though he resumes working, wiping a few glasses, he is watching the supposed bride from he corner of his eye as she downs her shot within seconds amidst all the cheering and slams the glass down, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, satisfied. The edges of his lips curl into a faint smile, the contentment evident on his face despite his attempts to not to make it obvious. He was proud of his work. When he looks away from them, he sees you again and simply sighs, walking away once more to the other side of the station.

It’s a whole ten minutes before he has work in the area you are sitting, ever so patiently. You take your chance to ask him.

“You didn’t mention when your working hours were going to end?”

“When the bar closes.” He begins to wipe the water near the ice bar and doesn’t even look up when he answers. “Two, two-thirty.”

“Fine, I’ll wait then.”

That’s what gets his attention, making him stop and meet your eye.

“It’s half past 11 Y/n.”

“I know.”

“That’s almost 3 hours.”

“I know.”

He raises an eyebrow. “For sex?”

With you. “For a conversation.”

Bending down, he grabs what looks like a bottle from below the counter and slams the mouth of it on the edge of the surface, knocking the cap off, before handing it to you. “Go home Y/n, It’s not worth it.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” You point at the beer bottle he’s put in front of you. “And this is not what I ordered.”

“You live far from here. Best not to get you too tipsy or drunk so you can go back safe.”

You look at him exasperated. “Yoongi-”

“What are you doing here in the first place?” He frowns at you. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I had the shift off for working overtime last week.”

“And you’re here? Instead of staying at home?”

Valid and rhetoric question. You did love staying at home, he knew you enough to know that. Turning up at a bar on your day off was quite uncharacteristic of you. Days off meant more time curled up in your bed, more documentaries to watch and just get lazy. If you weren’t someone who took every opportunity to stay at home you would never even have met Yoongi.

He was your brother’s tutor.

In a family full of doctors and scientists, your 16 year old brother was the only person insistent on becoming a fashion designer. You had assumed his passion was limited to collecting and maintaining a few catalogues and sketching designs for his blog. It was only when he was almost half way through his high school that he revealed his sincerity towards it. He was so determined, he even managed to contact some designer in Korea to intern under after he was done studying. But that meant he had to learn at least basic Korean and that’s how Yoongi came into picture. Your parents thought finding a Korean tutor in Amsterdam would be nearly impossible and frankly so did you. Until a few days later, when you got the fright of your life.

You had gotten off work early and returned home with your then boyfriend, the both of you giggling and walking in, thinking you were all alone. As the two of you sat on the couch, impatiently making out, it was then that Yoongi walked in on both of you with a simple “Could you please keep it down?” And walked back into the house.

That was the first time you saw him.

About 6 months from that day, you were in your bed grabbing the sheets as he covered your mouth with one hand and made you come with his other.

It still boggled your mind, how you went from being embarrassed whenever you saw him to sleeping with him every time you had the chance to.

It started maybe 2 days after your asshole of a boyfriend dumped you.

You were moping around the house that day after refusing to attend the baby shower of some acquaintance with the rest of your family. It was just as you were about to crawl into bed and get comfy that the bell rang and you opened the door to find Yoongi standing there. Apparently your brother hadn’t informed him about his new plans and so Yoongi turned up for the lesson as per schedule.

That’s when things started spiraling out of hand.

When he told you he would just wait on the porch for his friend to pick him up, you shouldn’t have invited him into the house you were in all alone. When he came inside and sat on the couch, you shouldn’t have told him to find you if he needed anything (even though you said it for formality’s sake). When you knew he was in the house, just one floor below you, you shouldn’t have tried to get yourself off in your room.

If you hadn’t done any of that you wouldn’t have found yourself with your fingers deep inside you, back arching off the bed when Min Yoongi knocked on your door and opened it before you could even tell him not to.

At that moment time went very strangely. It was as though he was standing at the door frame for unbelievably long, giving you all the time in the world to pull out your fingers, shut your legs close, sit up and then think of a hundred different things to say without even saying one word.

And then time sped up all of a sudden, because you have no idea how, you didn’t remember at all, but somehow Yoongi was by your bed leaning over you, planting his hand into the mattress right beside your head (Weren’t you sitting? When did you even lie down?) and then his fingers slipped into you.

That feeling of his fingers replacing yours? It was so unfamiliar but so good. They were so much longer, shaking much less, the pace so consistent - the sensation was wild. With a few thrusts he had managed to figure out how and where exactly to curl his fingers to draw that long moan out of you. And as you got louder, he got faster, not stopping for anything. Not even when he heard the car pull up in your driveway. Not even when he heard the front door opening. Not even when he clearly heard the voices of your family.

When you tried to warn him, instead of pulling them out, he covered your mouth with his hand and whispered, curling his fingers just the way you needed him to. “Shh, be a good girl and come for me Y/n.”

And you did, almost instantly, giving yourself just enough time to (1), ride the high on his fingers before (2), he pulled them out and calmly hid himself, standing against the wall right by the door while (3), you pulled the sheets over your half bare body - all just in time, before your father opened the door of your room to check up on you.

After you assured him you were fine, he left, closing the door behind him, slowly revealing Yoongi who stood there calmly, simply watching you propped up on your elbows looking at him as he slipped both his fingers into his mouth, sucking your arousal clean off his fingers before he left, a smirk dancing on his face. And as you fell back into your bed staring at the ceiling in absolutely disbelief, you heard him making his way down the stairs, updating your family on everything right up to the part where he stood by your bedroom door.

And that’s how your first orgasm with Yoongi happened.

And though you knew it was not right to let a man you barely knew do that to you again, a part of you knew that was definitely not your last orgasm with him.

The next time you saw him, about two days later, he was absolutely normal, behaving with you like he always did, like all that did not even happen. Even when you found him alone for a minute in the dining room and told him you had to talk to him, all he said was “Not now, I’m in the middle of work.” Almost an hour later, he approached you while you were strolling outside, in the backyard, surfing through your phone. When you saw him out there, your first reaction for some reason was to panic and try to hide him away from the eyes of anyone who might see you together. Yoongi was clearly confused the whole time, especially when you climbed the dog kernel right under your bedroom window, and sneaked into your own room in broad daylight, ( similar to your teenage days when you came back home late at night). But he calmly just followed you.

When you found him in your room alone once again, that was when you finally spoke to him.

“We haven’t spoken about….that incident.”

“What about it?”

“You- I mean I- that was a one time thing Yoongi, you understand?”

“This is what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes.”

“Are you done?”

“Y-Yes?”

“So I can go now?”

You look at him surprised. “Do you have nothing to say?”

“No. If you don’t want this, then there’s nothing left to say.”

“If I wanted more then?”

“Then I’d say, I thought so.”

“W-what?”

“I have never had one time encounters Y/n, I don’t do them and never will.”

“Why is that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Of course, it was. The way you felt when you got off his fingers? Who wouldn’t want to ride that high again? Women probably crawled back to him all the time, and he probably couldn’t have one time encounters even if he wanted to.

“I don’t like to.” He shrugs very simply. “I like to work on the basis of…..you can call it an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?”

“Just two rules.”

Rules?

“First, while this is going on, I won’t sleep with anyone else and you shouldn’t either.” He gives a pause letting you take in that information before he continues. “Second, If either of us should want to end it, for whatever reason, then we tell the other person and we’re done. No justifications, no explanations needed. When one person says no, it ends, as simple as that.”

You stared at him, not knowing what to say.

“I am only going to proceed if you are okay with that Y/n. All you have to do is ask.” He takes a step closer to you. “Ask me and I’ll give it to you.”

At that moment you really didn’t think it through when you said yes. You just wanted him. And that day after you made sure you locked the door this time, Min Yoongi made you come with his tongue not once but twice.

It had been going on since that day.

Though quite frankly, you didn’t know what to call yourselves. This was exclusive after all and a sort of commitment as well but nowhere even close to a relationship. He wasn’t exactly a booty call either. You couldn’t just text or call him every time you were horny, Yoongi wasn’t a man who entertained those kinds of requests. Sex, hence only happened in certain conditions and that was whenever came to your house.

So Min Yoongi who used to come to your house every weekend to tutor your brother began staying for an extra hour to ‘tutor’ you as well. When you told your parents you wanted to learn Korean, it was a miracle they didn’t question it. Maybe because Yoongi didn’t charge extra for teaching you (“I’m not going to charge to fuck you Y/n, that’s not how this works.”) or maybe because your extremely social parents were barely at home during the weekends and didn’t really care much about what their adult daughter did. Much like your brother who spent most of his time holed up in the basement working on his own thing. That left you and Yoongi all alone in your room for an hour twice a week. Yes, sex with him was technically pre-scheduled. So he was far from a booty call.

Could you call yourselves fuck buddies then? Initially you didn’t know if you could, you both were not even close to what you would consider ‘buddies’ - you barely spoke. Every time you and Yoongi found yourselves together, you only ever had sex. You could barely remember an incident or two when you didn’t actually fuck upon finding yourselves alone. Once when he saw a scar on your body and asked you what it was. You remember telling him, showing him the other scars too, telling the stories behind each of them and he did the same when you asked him. You didn’t remember sleeping with him that day. Or on that day when Yoongi turned up in animated pizza printed underwear and you couldn’t stop laughing. That day you didn’t have sex either. Instead you showed him all your printed underwear as a peace offering.

But that was about it. There were no other instances as far as you could remember. But if you really did have to give the relationship between you two a name, you preferred to call yourselves fuck buddies. You don’t know what Yoongi thought of that, you always just referred to it as ‘the agreement’.

And the agreement was going like it was for the last one year - just fine, till about three weeks ago, when your brother told Yoongi he didn’t need to be tutored anymore.

You were wondering what that meant for you and Yoongi. Because if he wasn’t going to come home for your brother anymore, it made no sense coming home for just you. You had no idea how you were going to continue this arrangement of yours now and only hoped that Yoongi had some alternative in mind. You tried calling him about it but he didn’t pick up. You dropped him a bunch of texts but he didn’t reply to any. Was he busy? Was he ignoring you? You didn’t know.

Your last ray of hope was that weekend. Your parents and brother had planned to go to Korea for a week to attend the new collection launch of the designer your brother was in contact with. You could have gone too, expect you had to go to work. That’s what you told yourself but deep down you knew that meeting Yoongi was also a part of your agenda. For all you knew, that weekend could have been your last time with him. So you sent him a message that you were all alone at home this weekend and just sat with your fingers crossed, hoping he would turn up.

He didn’t show up on Saturday.

And didn’t show up on Sunday either.

Another week passed by like that and then another. With you calling him only to reach voicemail, with you sending him texts only to be replied with silence. It was starting to reach the point where you actually began worrying about whether he was even okay or not because, was it really normal to ignore someone for so long? And you didn’t even know how to meet him at least to make sure he was at least alright. You had no idea where he lived, where else he worked, what other jobs he did, nothing. You knew nothing about him.

Except that he was some sort of expert when it came to alcohol. You were surprised when you came across some of his papers on which he had scribbled, in the messiest handwriting possible, some recipes for cocktails. Back then you didn’t think about why he had such stuff written down, rather you were more fascinated by all those interesting concoctions and so you excitedly asked him about each of them while he calmly answered them. (Oh. That was another day you didn’t have sex with him.)

That night though, you had thought about it, why he might’ve known so much. It was one thing to have an opinion on different kinds of alcohol but to know things such as what kind of ice and what kind of strainer to use? That was definitely not general knowledge, he undoubtedly was a professional of some sort. You had made a mental note to ask him the next time you saw him but you couldn’t. Not when his dick was thrusted deep inside you, his mouth hot on your neck.

A few days ago, when you took a closer look at his profile picture as you sat for the hundredth time wondering why he wasn’t getting back to you, in the background you saw the neon letters spelling out the name of a bar (Truck You) you had only heard about quite often. Putting two and two together, you began wondering if Min Yoongi might actually be a bartender of some sorts and if that was his workplace. There was only one way to find out and that was to personally go there and see for yourself but you were swarmed with night shifts at the hospital and heading to a bar was out of question.

Till today, when you finally got a day off because your friend offered to take your shift to repay a favor last week. And the moment you got free your first thought drifted towards looking out for Yoongi. Even though you knew it could be pointless - he might go there often or he might even have just been there once - and there was no guarantee you’d find him there today, this was your shot in the dark. You had one chance to try and one place you could do so at. So you took it.

And it paid off because the minute you walked in, your eyes fell on Yoongi behind the counter. At that moment there was just a wave of mixed emotions. You were happy he was fine, you were proud of yourself for finding him, you were mad that he was absolutely okay and just ignored you for three weeks, you were so turned on seeing him dressed like that - so many things at once. But you squashed all those feelings in and just sat on the bar stool waiting for him to react when he spots you. It had been so long since you saw him, you had to first make sure this was not a dream. And when he finally did see you a few minutes later, his eyes widened for barely a second (so this was real) before he resumed looking completely indifferent.

And he still looked so unbothered as he worked that cocktail shaker effortlessly. It was as though you didn’t even exist and you couldn’t do anything about it. All that could be done now was wait.

And you do, boredly squirming, tapping your finger on the surface, occasionally sipping on the beer which had gone pretty flat, looking at him whip up all those drinks for what seemed excruciatingly long. You did that till you heard a voice.

“The bar is about to close.”

Your eyes fly open and find a man dressed much like Yoongi, standing right before you with a name tag that read ‘Hoseok.’ When did you even fall asleep and for how long? Your first instinct is to look for Yoongi.

He wasn’t there.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“It’s my turn to clean up today so I guess he’s done for the day?”

“He left?”

“I didn’t see him leave the bar though. He might still be changing?”

“Where?”

Hoseok scratches the back of his head. “I’m not sure you can go there though, it’s for staff only.”

You sigh, really tired of everything. “Please.”

Hoseok looks at you with what seemed like pity in his eyes. “Are you Y/n?”

“H-How do you know?”

“There.” He points, but you don’t look. “The room next to the back door.”

“But how do you know my-”

“He’s leaving.”

You turn to see Yoongi far across the crowd on the dance floor, stepping out of the room in his usual simple tee and ripped jeans outfit. Hurriedly thanking Hoseok you rushed through the crowd “sorry, sorry.” till you finally reached the blonde man and grab him by the wrist to his absolute surprise and drag him away from the music out of the back door.

When you step out, the first thing that hits you is the smell of the trash from all the trash cans nearby, but you don’t care.

You let go of Yoongi and cross your arms but he beats you to the conversation.

“I was going to come talk to you.”

You cut it, straight to the point. “Why did not talk to me all these days?”

“Y/n,” He sighs, “I’ve just been busy.”

“How busy do you have to be to not find the time to type two words?” You unlock the phone in your hand and hold up your chat over the days, forcing him to see it.

You : Yoongi, are you okay? You : Please say something, I’m getting scared. You : Just say you’re okay and I can be at peace. You : Where are you Yoongi? You : Why are you doing this? You : Please, please just tell me once that you’re fine.

“I’m fine.” You put your phone down sighing. “That’s all you had to say to all this, that you’re fine. Do you know how worried I was?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? It’s been 3 weeks and I haven’t heard a word from you, I was scared something happened-”

“To our agreement?”

What? That’s what he thought you were worried about? Sex? Yeah of course, for a day, maybe two but after that you had been worried for his life. Wasn’t it basic humanity to? To worry and care for people you were associated with? Would he have not felt the same if he was in your place? Or were you the one thinking about this more than you needed to?

“Yes.” You lie. “You said our agreement would end only if we tell each other we wanted it to end. Ghosting me for three weeks was not mentioned-”

“I don’t want it to end.” He says it instantly and so earnestly. “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

He didn’t want to end things?

Deep down, this was your biggest fear, something you didn’t even admit to yourself. Being worried for Yoongi’s general well-being helped suppress every other reason for panic but with him standing in front of you and knowing that he was okay, there was only one thing left to be scared of. That he wanted to end things. That if Yoongi said he didn’t want this agreement anymore you’d have to stop seeing each other. You didn’t want to stop.

“So you…..you don’t want to end things.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“You don’t want to end things, you won’t reply to me, you won’t sleep with me and I can’t sleep with anyone else either, do you know how frustr-”

“Do you want to sleep with anyone else?”

His question throws you off. Out of all the things you had listed that’s what he catches? If he wasn’t ignoring you because he was planning on ending the agreement then….Is it because that’s what’s bothering him?

“Wait Yoongi, this isn’t one of those ‘I’m catching feelings for you’ kind of situations right?”

He blinks for a bit and then lets out a short laugh. “Are you mad?”

“Then….then what’s the problem?”

“I told you, I was busy.”

“With what Yoongi? What were you so busy with that you send me a message-”

“I lost my scholarship.” He confesses, taking you aback. “I have one term left to finish my degree in English Language. They cut my grants off because of some new rules and now I have to pay full tuition payment for a term and……I don’t think I can afford it.”

“Oh.” You stutter, completely thrown off by the information. “I-I’m so sorry Yoongi, I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t know anything.”

That was unfair.

“How would I?” You whisper softly. “It’s not like you told me-”

“I don’t need to Y/n.” He smiles sadly. “We don’t mean enough to each other to share so much.”

As much as those words were true they still made you feel strangely disappointed.

“Can….can I ask you what you’re going to do about it now?” You immediately add. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not eligible to get a decent loan with the earnings of a bartender. The only way to do this is…..to earn the money myself.” He reveals. “I’ve been trying to get a job over the last few weeks. I applied to couple of places and last week I got an offer, to teach Korean in this tuition center, over the weekends.”

“That’s great!” You smile, deeply relieved on the inside. “I’m so happy for you…How has it been working there?”

“I haven’t accepted their offer yet though.”

“What?” You’re washed over by a wave of shock. “Why not?”

“I’ve been considering dropping out instead,” He slips his hands into his pocket. “I want to follow my dream over what I think my dream should be.”

You know exactly what he means. It hits home. You always thought your dream was should be being a doctor, you grew up with the idea, you were brought up with the idea, you convinced yourself that it was your dream. But all those posters in your house stuck inside your cupboards, those stages, those costumes, those routines. That should have been your dream. Being a dancer should have been your dream.

“What is your dream?”

“To be my own boss.” He smiles. “Open my own bar one day. Maybe a chain. Serve the best kind of alcohol in the whole city. Have crazy Friday nights with packed tables and happy people. That’s my dream.”

“Then why….”

“It’s not a small investment, something like that. Even if I work 7 days of the week, save almost every cent of what I earn, it will be years before I can make enough money to do something like that. I thought the more practical approach to life then was to just change the dream”

He sighs, chest rising then falling.

“But whenever I look at the tuition fee I have to pay to finish this degree? It doesn’t make any sense to me. If I really had to churn up so much money, I figured I might as well put it where it makes me happy instead.”

“So you mean you want to drop out and…then what?”

“Kick start my dream by writing a book.” A book? “More of guide to be honest, for bartenders, it’ll have tips and techniques, how to actually use equipment, recipes, things of that sort. You’d be surprised how many people out there call themselves professional without knowing basic things like what ice to use-”

“Ice that’s not cloudy.” You state confidently, catching Yoongi off guard and shrug. “You told me this once. Ice is to a bartender what fire is to a chef.”

So that’s what all those notes had been about.

“Yeah.” He looks impressed. “But that means I have to experiment a lot, invest too much time and money, I don’t think I can do that with two jobs and continuing a degree. I have to decide what to hold on to and what to let go.”

Did you choose to let go us?

“Is that….is this why you’ve been so- I mean, is this why you couldn’t reply to me?”

“I need to sort things in my life first Y/n, and our agreement…… I didn’t think I should prioritize it at this point.”

“Of course not.” You shake your head. “I’m the stupid one, I should’ve understood you had your own problems, I’m so sorry, I just….I was being an idiot, I guess I was just so used to you being a constant the last one year, it was strange cutting off everything all of a sudden. I probably” You let out a short stupid laugh, “Probably even missed you-”

“Probably?” He chuckles. “I for one, definitely missed you.”

“Yeah sure.” You mock him, trying to lighten the mood even more, now that he was smiling again. “You wouldn’t have been able to stand so far away if you really did-”

He takes two quick strides and the rest of you words are lost against his mouth as he kisses you, trapping you between his hands against the wall. There’s a mix of urgency and gentleness in the way he moves, as though he badly wanted this but also wanted to take his time. You didn’t take his word for it, but it almost seems like he really did miss you. You take his face in your hands, gaining control, easing your lips against his, savoring the moment, not wanting to rush it through. Yoongi groans softly, low in his throat pulling your hands down with his, pinning them above you, against the wall kissing your neck as he whispered. “It was so hard to resist the urge to do this the moment I saw you.”

Your breathing becomes more audible as you arch off the wall, baring more of your throat to him, spiraling, getting lost in the sensation, before you finally manage to find the voice to ask him to stop.

“I’m….I’m not going to have sex with you near the trash cans Yoongi.”

He pulls back, face so close to yours as he grinned. “It’s been three weeks, I thought you might be desperate enough to.” There he was.

“You give yourself too much credit.” You wriggle your hands making him loosen his grip. You wanted him so badly, it had really had been way too long but the smell of the trash? You couldn’t bear it. “I just can’t here, the smell kinda ruins the mood.”

“Yeah we should get out of here.” Yoongi let’s your hand go, taking a step back. Where to though? “Let me grab my things.”

You nod and walk into the bar as Yoongi holds the door open for you.

Maybe because it’s much later at night but the lights were dimmer and the crowd was much lesser and the music was a lot slower and a lot sexier than you remembered it. You can feel your body automatically swaying to the music, forgetting the world around you. You didn’t even notice when Yoongi stepped in behind you and walked into the changing rooms.

Climb on board, We’ll go slow and high tempo

Letting the music lead you, you walk in, to the edge of the dance floor and let your body move the way it feels its right. It felt so good to dance again. You’re so lost in your own private bubble, it takes a while before you notice Yoongi standing in his leather jacket, backpack slung over one shoulder, just staring at you.

You beckon him towards you with a smile and he complies but he doesn’t take your hand when you hold it out, shaking his head instead.

“I don’t dance.”

You laugh and reach for his wrists instead, pulling him closer, wrapping them around your waist.

Light and dark. Hold me hard and mellow

“What a pity, women find a man who can dance attractive.”

“That’s a personal preference.”

“It’s a scientific fact.”

Yoongi chuckles. “As far as I remember, when you entered the club, you walked past all those ‘dancing men’ and sat right there for 3 hours” He points at the stool on the other side of the floor with a tilt of his head, that cocky look on his face. “What does that tell you?”

You shrug, continuing to play with the metal of the chain resting on his chest, as though you didn’t know the answer to that.

I’m seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure. Nobody but you, ‘body but me. ‘Body but us, bodies together.

“Those men may move their bodies however they like, but a woman likes a man who knows her body.” His voice is so fucking deep. “Like I know yours.”

“Do you now?” You run your finger along the line of his jaw. “It’s been so long since you’ve even touched me-”

“Doesn’t matter.” He presses himself onto you and you can feel it. How incredibly hard he’s gotten. “No one knows you like I do, I can promise you that.”

Your lips curl into a smile as you run your hand from his chest to all the way down there, rubbing him ever so slightly over the material of his jeans. “I could say the same”

I love to hold you close, tonight and always. I love to wake up next to you.

You want to see a warning flash in his eyes or some sort of reaction to your actions, but all he does is let out a breath. “It’s been three weeks, I didn’t think you would be in the state to tease.”

“I figured if you could leave me like that for so long, a few minutes shouldn’t hurt you-”

“3 hours.” Yoongi stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen in his eyes before. “Ever since you walked into the bar and sat there.”

I love to hold you close, tonight and always. I love to wake up next to you.

“Nonsense.” You put your arms around his neck, laughing. He was being ridiculous after all. “You barely looked at me the whole time.”

“I didn’t need to. Not when all I could think of was having you bent over that counter with your panties around your ankles.”

So we’ll piss off the neighbors.

You almost gasp, eyes widening, feeling that throbbing sensation in your core. Yoongi never speaks like this outside your bedroom.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“About w-what?”

He turns you around, your back against his erection pressing into you, his lips on the skin of your shoulder making their way up. He’s holding you in place with just one arm across your waist, his other hand is drawing circles on the skin your extremely short dress was exposing.

In the place that feels the tears. The place to lose your fears.

“Your moans” He’s not even whispering, he’s making sure he’s heard. “The way you sound when I’m fucking you, when you say my name.”

“The way your hands run down my back and how it feels to be inside you, so tight,” Its like he knows you clenched your walls at that exact moment. “fuck so tight all time, its like I’ve not been there a hundred times already.”

Reckless behavior.

“Yoongi-”

“And how you smell, that scent of you drives me crazy,” His voice suddenly goes so low, you unwillingly feel yourself swallow nothing. “and I can smell it right now. Is that how wet you are already?” You still can’t move. “I’m sure I can easily slide in two fingers. Maybe even three? You’re a good girl, I know you can take it.”

A place that is so pure, so dirty and raw.

It’s so hard for words to leave you. “I-I know something better you can put inside me Min Yoongi.”

He chuckles, “I offered to earlier today, you said I give myself too much credit.”

“Did you really take my word for it?” You turn to him, pressing your hips into his.

He lets out a small laugh. “Have you always been this easy to please?” There was so much pride in his voice. But he deserved to feel that. You were practically a puddle in his hands. “I can’t remember”

“Fuck me and you will.” You can’t hear or think of anything else, your hands finding that tiny cold metal of his pants and they start to unzip it already, forcing Yoongi to hold your wrist and stop you.

“I’m not sure this is the right place for it-”

“I take it back, I don’t mind doing it near the backdoor, trash cans or not.”

Yoongi smirks at your desperation. “We’ve been waiting for 3 hours, I think we both deserve more than that.”

“Yoongi…..” You whine, desperate. “Where do you want to go then? My parents will be home now.”

“I know….” He trails off for a bit. “I know a place nearby we can go to, about 10 minutes away. Would that be okay with you?”

After all these months was Yoongi finally taking you to his house?

“10 minutes is all you get.”

“Perfect.” He steps back flashing his gummy smile, holding his hand out. “Let’s go.”

The moment he leads you into the darkness of his house and shuts the door behind you, you don’t waste time and press him up against it, hooking you fingers in his belt loops, slamming your lips onto his. And he responds by letting his backpack slip from his shoulder onto the floor before he takes your face in his hand, slipping his tongue into your mouth, eliciting that soft whimper from you. His hands don’t wait there, wandering down, caressing your neck before he pushes his jacket that you had borrowed during the bike ride here off your shoulders, making you quickly reach behind and drag the sleeves down your arms before crumpling it unbothered and throwing it, however far your arm could extend.

“Careful!” Yoongi abruptly pulls back, making you almost bite your own lip as he cautions you, pointing at the silhouette of a vase you nearly knocked down with the jacket. “I have no idea how expensive anything is here. We don’t want to fall into any kind of trouble.”

You freeze.

All that excitement, the awe, the thrill, everything in you extinguishes in a second, the moment you hear that statement.

“Yoongi. This-this isn’t your house?”

“I wish.” He chuckles, hand searching the wall for the switches and flipping them on upon finding them. “My house isn’t even a quarter the size of this.”

When your eyes adjust to the brightness and you are finally able to see something other than shadows, you’re awestruck because the place is, well, absolutely beautiful. The white and blue tones of the walls, the slightly antique looking furniture, all those books racked up in bookshelves and those paintings on the walls - none of it looked even close to what you would imagine his place to look like.

“Oh my god, this isn’t your house.”

Yoongi shakes his head as if it’s that simple.

“A friend’s house?”

He shakes his head again.

“Do you even know who lives here?”

“For someone who was eager enough to do it by the trashcans you are having an awful lot of questions now.”

“Yoongi, just answer.”

He picks up his jacket and backpack from the floor and walks in casually to dump it on the couch.

“No, I don’t really know who lives here.”

You freeze. “Oh my god, what are we doing here?!”

He shrugs. “You said you couldn’t wait.”

“What?!” Your voice leaves you as angry whispers. “Yoongi, that doesn’t mean we trespass into someone’s private-”

“Relax Y/n. I have the keys.” He fishes them out from his back pocket, jiggling them at you before he throws them onto the couch as well. “ I have permission, this is far from illegal. My housing agent suggested this space.”

You slowly walk into the house, the fear subsiding with each step.

“The owner lives in Sydney, so I was free to come over and check it out whenever I wanted to. Though the agent did ask him to let him know when I do….” He grins. “Guess I just forgot. “

“I can’t believe you Yoongi.” You shake your head in disbelief, fighting back a smile. “So technically, we are breaking in?”

“Not technically-”

“Yoongi, you just brought me to some random persons house to have sex.”

“Should I be scared that you don’t sound disappointed saying that?”

“Hmm, I like it.” You smile slowly, walking up to him, a glint of mischief in your eyes “I’m so tired of us always having to do it in my bedroom, keeping it down, trying not to get caught. That had its own thrill but here,” Pressing your body against his you tiptoe, weaving your fingers into the back of his head, whispering in his ear. “Here you can make me scream.”

Yoongi lets out a short laugh, his hands finding the curves of your hips, walking you back till you feel the edge of the breakfast bar behind, and kissing you in a way that dragged out those desperate moans. When he pulls back letting you breath and whispering, “Trust me, I’m dying to.”, you look at him chest heaving, biting your lip that was already missing his mouth. His eyes are darken with a mix of desire and something you couldn’t quite tell as he began littering kisses along your collarbone and you attempt to pull your hair into a ponytail, the way he likes it, thank god for the hair tie on your wrist. His hands grip your thighs as he stands between them and his mouth feels so good but you want so much more.

“Are you just going to kiss me all night?” Your voice shakes as he makes a trail up your neck.“I can think of better places you can put your mouth.”

“Such impatience.” He chuckles, sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders and down your arms, his long fingers brushing them excruciatingly slowly. Of course, Min Yoongi’s recipe for mind blowing sex - foreplay, teasing, edging. But you were not in the mood for any of that today.

“You ditched me for 3 weeks,” You work faster than him, almost swatting his hands aside and pulling the dress down to bunch up at your waist, “I think I’ve been patient enough.” You unhook the clasp of your bra, and slide it off, discarding it somewhere on the floor, unbothered. Yoongi’s expression darkens as your fingers find the zip of his jeans, and unzip it without hesitation.

“Come on Yoongi, how much more do you want me to ask?”

He smirks but complies nevertheless, dragging his hands under your dress and up your thigh, pushing the material of your panties aside, running his finger between your folds.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” There is something about the way his voice goes so low and deep when he’s aroused that makes you clench your walls harder. “I could slip in there so easily, fill you up so good. Would you like that?”

Fuck yes Min Yoongi. That’s what you want to say. But you can’t. Not when he doesn’t even wait before he slides two fingers inside you, and all you can do is let out a soft moan, your body instantly reacting to the familiar feeling of his long digits thrusted inside you. But before you can fully savor that sensation, he pulls them out completely, much to your disappointment.

“Lift your hips for me.”

And you obey pulling away from the edge of the counter letting him tug that tight dress down your legs, throwing it somewhere. He pulls out the bar stool from behind you, guiding you to sit on it.

“Turn.”

You frown, not understanding as he swiftly spins the apparently rotatable stool half a round, pressing himself against your back. As you open your mouth to complain about not being about to see him, his hand slides from behind, over your waist, down there and this time, when he plunges his fingers into your heat again, “Oh fuck yes.” the feeling is wild.

His hand finds your breast as you feel yourself arch off against him, whimpers spilling from you mouth. He doesn’t let you grind against his hand, and picks up the pace instead knowing that’s what you want, as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, months of experience telling him just how deep you liked it and just how fast. His hand switches between your breasts, mouth hot on your neck as you tip your head back, quickening the pleasure building up inside, your breaths getting louder, shorter. It’s been so long since you’ve even been touched, with him pumping his digits into you like that, it doesn’t take long for you to edge.

“Fuck, I’m going to come, Yoongi, stop.” You weakly attempt to hold his wrist but of course you are not successful, not when you feel him run his tongue up your neck. “Fuck, I want you inside me when I come, please, just stop-”

“Cute.” He lightly sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, whispering against it. “What makes you think you’re only going to come once tonight?”

You bite back a moan, stuttering “Fuck, yes, yes, yes, right there”, incoherently and it takes just the slight pressure of his thumb on your clit and you fall apart instantly, breathing heavily.

When he feels you finish riding your high and relax around his fingers, he slowly pulls them out, and you turn to face him, finally gaining the ability to address his cockiness. “Make me come more than once today? Don’t you have a lot of confidence Min Yoongi?”

“I think I’m allowed to have it.” He sucks on his fingers, smirking proudly around them. “Delicious.”

Fuck.

The effect he had on you. Every time. Every time he managed to make such a panting mess of you all while remaining so calm, so composed and today, fully clothed moreover, with just his zip down. You look at the bulge in his pants, and you can tell he is not at his most comfortable, yet he waited for you to make the move.

You grab the edge of his shirt and pull it up, over his head, dropping it the moment he’s free of it, and run your hands against the pale skin of his torso as he watches you patiently. Oh but today you had the upper hand. You were satisfied by his fingers already while here he was, an erection still in his boxers. If you wanted you could give him a taste of his lesson, tease the life out of him, but there was something you were holding onto all these days, something you wanted to tell him for quite a few weeks now.

“Do you have a condom?”

He nods, reaching for his back pocket to take out his tattered wallet as you palm him over the material of his boxers before sliding your hand in to and griping his erection, drawing a very soft but audible groan from his throat.

“You’re going to have to take my cock out if you want to use this sweetheart,” He holds the foil pointedly.

“Or not.” You mutter unsure as you take the foil from him and put it on the surface next to you. “We don’t really have to use it you know.”

What did that expression mean?

When Yoongi doesn’t reply to that, you don’t know what to do but continue.

“I’ve uh,” Why you are so hesitant? “I’ve started taking the pill.” You bite your lower lip, muttering. “So if you are okay with it…..we can do this without protection.”

It’s a while before Yoongi stops just blinking at you and replies. “You’re saying,” He looks away momentarily, letting out a struggled breath. “You’re saying it’s ok if I fuck you raw-”

“I’m saying I want you to.” You look him straight in the eye, dead serious. “Fuck me raw.” Then quickly add, “If you want to, that is.”

Yoongi actually takes a few steps back instead. “The first time we slept together, you said without a condom, it felt too intimate.”

“Oh,” You scoff. “That was my nice way of saying ‘god knows what nasties you are carrying’.”

You roll your eyes when he looks at you confused. “STDs Yoongi.”

“I was clean then, clean now. You knew that.”

“Only because you said so.” You point out. “But I have medical proof now because I might have looked up your test results on our hospital records…?” You trail off, voice softening a bit in embarrassment. You weren’t prepared to answer all these details, it was a simple yes or no question.

“Really?”

“Yeah well,” You shrug. “I’m a resident, I have access to all kinds of records-”

“No, about this.” He straightens out, standing upright. “You really want to? You-you’re serious about….this.”

“Oh.” You nod. “Yeah, I mean, I am clean but I don’t have any evidence right now-”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You swallow on nothing, surprised by his trust in you.

“Uh and unless you’ve slept with someone the last few weeks-”

He scoffs, “You think?”

With just two strides, he’s right before you once more, kissing you with a ferocity that was new to you but you kissed him back just as intensely, biting, running your tongue over his lips, over where they meet, just inside of them, tracing their outline with the tip of your tongue. You slide your hand into his boxer, gripping his erection, attempting to free it, and he helps you, pulling both his boxers and his pants halfway down his thighs.

“Take them off.” You whisper and he obeys taking a step back and swiftly pulling off the last of his clothes as you push aside your drenched panties and stick your fingers inside you, feeling all that wetness, gathering it. Yoongi’s eyes follow your digits as you pull them out, your arousal slick between your fingers and he looks up to your mouth, as though he expected you to slip them in there. Instead, you gesture him to come closer with them and when he does you wrap your hand around his erection, the wetness of your fingers letting you stroke it with a little ease as you feel his breath get heavier.

“Can’t wait to put this in my mouth.” You coo into his ear, attempting to slide off the stool but he pins you by your thighs, not letting you move.

“Not tonight.” Yoongi refusing a blow job? He groans as you run your thumb over his tip. “I want to fuck you right now-”

“Then fuck me.”

Holding you in place with his hands under your knees, he wastes no time - no teasing your slit with his tip, not even pushing himself in you slowly to allow you to adjust his thickness, not even bothering to fully remove your panties, he just pushes them aside and he thrusts himself in with one swift move and fuck, the feeling of his bare cock in you is so foreign but unbelievably gratifying. You can feel it inside you, down to the last detail, your walls clenching, aching for some movement. But Yoongi just wraps your legs around his waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck, hands digging into your thighs, surely bruising them.

“Yoongi, move.” You moan into his ear, entwining your arms around his neck. “Please.”

And he does, picking up the pace, giving it to you so hard, your nails find themselves raking his back. He kisses you along your shoulder, not letting you hear the soft grunts he couldn’t help but let out. You though, wince every time he thrusts into you, body sore from your fixed position.

“It hurts.” When he doesn’t stop, you slide your fingers into his hair, and tug his head back, letting him see you and realize you were hurting. You sense how it takes every bit of his energy to halt and mutter. “I’ve been sitting for far too long.”

“Bedroom?” He asks, almost short of breath. When you shake your head he swiftly pulls you down from the bar stool, giving you immediate relief.

“Are you okay?” You nod but he doesn’t seem convinced. “We can find a bedroom-”

He goes speechless the moment you turn around, gripping the edges of the counter and slightly bend over. You just wanted a change in position, you weren’t really thinking about the effect it might have on him.

Not when all I could think of was having you bent over that counter with your panties around your ankles.

“Is this what you imagined?” You try to peer over your shoulder. “In the bar earlier today?”

He’s still silent. You can’t really see him well but you know he’s watching as you touch yourself, eager for him to shove himself back in there.

“No.” He murmurs.

You feel his hands on the elastic of your underwear, pulling it down to where he said he pictured it, before he makes his way back up, kissing and biting softly along the inside of your thigh, dropping one last kiss on the skin of your lower waist before he confesses in your ear in a low voice,

“This is so much better, you have no idea.”

Your proud smile falters the moment he digs his fingers into your hips definitely making bruises, and rams himself inside you, making your head dip down in pleasure as you bite back a moan.

“Don’t hold back.” He speedens his movements in and out, the new angle letting him snap his hips against yours faster and deeper. “I want to hear you.”

So you let him. Parting your lips you let him hear what he does to you, moaning his name and it drives him crazy because you feel him getting more aggressive, not hesitating at all. His hand wanders up, pressing into your skin wherever it could, grabbing your breast almost painfully before reaching your wrist, tapping it.

“Let go.” He growls, and the moment you obey he harshly pushes you forward, right up against the counter, till every bit of the skin of your upper body is against the cold surface, giving him the ability to pound into you harder almost as though he had no intentions of holding back.

“Shit,” You try to raise yourself but he leans over and pins you with his hand on the nape of your neck, restricting you against the surface, your cheek still against the coldness. “Fuck,” You moan shamelessly. “I forgot how good you fucked me Yoongi.”

No cocky response to that? It’s like he doesn’t care anymore, nothing but an occasional grunt or two leaving him unwittingly, his breath the most audible thing from him. You wish you could see him fucking you like this. Sex with Yoongi never was gentle love making but it also wasn’t this sort of rough fucking. You hated to admit how much you liked it. Even more so when he takes both your hands and holds them firmly against your lower back with his single hand, and starts to lose his rhythm, thrusts getting sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.” You feel his lips on your shoulder, trying not to sink his teeth into your skin. “Where do you want me to?”

Like you could respond to that with your mouth so dry and you were approaching your high too.

“Fucking hell Y/n, you need to tell me, shit I’m so close-”

“Inside, inside.” You whimper, breathlessly. “Come inside me Yoongi.”

And before you even finish your sentence he groans, shooting his load with a few thrusts, the warmth filling you up as you clench around him, desperate to hold on to the sensation of him inside you to tip over the edge once more.

“Stop. I’m going to get hard again if you do that.”

You sense him move back, slowly sliding out of you as you feel his cum leaking down, threatening to dribble down your thighs. Turning around you look at him, eyes savoring the sight of completely fucked out Yoongi before you as you get down on your knees slowly, taking his cum covered cock in your mouth, sucking him clean, that alluring taste of him making you want more and more. Yoongi lifts your chin with a finger under it, pulling you back as he looks down at you.

“If I get hard again, I can’t promise I won’t break you. So don’t try, Y/n.”

Fuck.

Normally you wouldn’t have laughed at that, but being deprived of your orgasm makes you gutsy.

You chuckle, standing up, licking your lips. “Speaking of promises, someone said I’ll be coming more than once tonight.”

His eyebrows furrow as the realization hits him and honestly, it surprised you just as much as it surprised him. Min Yoongi just fucked you with the most minimal foreplay, absolutely no teasing, and the man who had always made it his mission to make you orgasm first was standing here with his cum all up inside you before you had the chance to. It clearly hurts his ego because you can see the determination in his eyes to change things.

Pushing you back onto the stool, he gets on his knees instead and you gasp, seeing his head between your legs like that. Yoongi, who is so repelled by the idea of tasting himself that he wouldn’t even kiss you after you blow him was here, latching his mouth around your cum filled cunt, delving his tongue inside you. You are already so sensitive from his cock inside you earlier and it doesn’t help that he looks so hot buried between your legs like that, meeting your eyes, you can feel that tightening sensation rise in you again. Desperate, you catch yourself almost grinding against his tongue till he finds the need to stop you, taking one of your legs over his shoulder making you reach for support from the counter behind.

“Fuck y-yes.” You whimper, his mouth sucking on your cunt so hard and he brings his hand up to your clit, rubbing on it hard and fast and it takes less than a minute for you reach your orgasm, vision fading to black as you rake your fingers through his hair softly. He runs his tongue along the folds on last time and your look down at as he drops a kiss on the inside of your thigh.

As he stands up you slowly adjust yourself, rolling your neck to relieve yourself, pulling the hair tie, freeing your hair. Yeah furniture sex is great, but your body was surely going to hurt like a bitch in a few hours.

Yoongi holds you gently by the elbow, planting a brief kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?”

“You should ask me this question tomorrow because that is when I’ll know.” You laugh.

“I will.” He nods, picking your clothes from the floor handing it to you. You take it, trying to avoid his concerned gaze.

“Uh, I should go pee.” You hold your clothes against your chest, suddenly embarrassed about how much you were exposing to him.

“The washroom is probably down the hall.”

He moves to the side giving you way and you leave with a small thankful smile, hurrying with small steps, eyes searching around the house. When you push the bathroom door upon finding it, you are greeted by a full size mirror making you jump reflexively. “Ah fuck….”

You’re a mess.

You knew you were probably looking like one, but you didn’t know to what extent. You bite your lip looking at the purple marks stark against your shoulders and the inside of your thigh. Yoongi doesn’t usually mark you. Simply because you didn’t allow him to, at least not the neck. You told him that was off limits because you worked at a hospital and you obviously couldn’t go to work looking like that, it wasn’t appropriate. You did say though, that you didn’t mind anywhere else but he never seemed interested in that proposition because he never even tried to. But today looking at those marks, the pride in your chest does a happy backflip. Yoongi really lost control today.

When you clean yourself up and come out, you don’t know why you are surprised to see him still there. Maybe because every time after the both of you slept together, either he had to rush or you had to, there was never an opportunity to so much as even look at each other, forget saying something.

But here he was, with just his pants back on, shirt still lying discarded on the floor as he makes himself busy cleaning the surface of the table with a wet tissue, much like how he was clearing his station a few hours ago.

You sink into the couch nearby and watch him take his time, running here and there, scrubbing the surface clean, once with a wet tissue, then with a dry tissue, scrounging around febreze, spraying it around the place, sniffing it carefully in the air. You smile at his antics, shaking your head.

“Alright, clean here.” He grabs his shirt from the floor and pulls it over his head. “Oh yeah, sanitizer.” Your habits really did grow onto him. You did not know why and what kind of role you played in Yoongi’s life but the last 3 weeks taught you something. For some reason, you don’t know what exactly but Yoongi was important to you.

As he approaches the couch, hand reaching out for his backpack next to you, you hold him by the wrist, stopping him.

“Don’t do that to me again.” You stare at how beautiful his hand looks in yours, like its meant to be. “The last three weeks were……difficult.”

“You think 21 days of not fucking you were easy for me?” He scoffs. “The regular 5 days itself are ridiculously hard.”

“Difficult because I was worried, not because I was horny.” You laugh as Yoongi sinks into the couch next to you, rolling his head over, giving you his gummy smile.

This was the reason.

That’s when you finally, finally realize.

You realize that you laughed after almost 3 weeks now. After days of being upset and angry and irritable, just one night with Min Yoongi and you were normal again.

You were laughing ever since things cleared between the both of you.

You were laughing ever since you realized he was okay.

You were laughing because he was laughing.

You were laughing because of Min Yoongi.

Oh.

Oh no.

“I’m sorry though, I really am.” He looks away because he’s ashamed and you are relieved he can’t see the conflict you are going through. “I thought I’ll figure it all out and then talk to you about it but….I should have said something.”

You gulp air in the silence, not paying attention to his sincere apology, your realization evoking hundreds of thoughts in you head, the most important one being-

“What happens to us now?” You whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“My brother doesn’t need tutoring anymore, we can’t exactly…” This was the part of the night you were dreading, the part that decides it all. “How will we keep this going?”

“We’ll figure it out.” Yoongi nods slowly. His words, calm down your racing heart. “If you don’t want it to end then…..”

“Of course I don’t.” You answer certainly.

“Then we’ll find a way, I’m sure we can.” He then slowly smiles smugly, as though he realized something. “Maybe I can get my agent to find us a new house like this every week.”

You raise your eyebrow, letting out a laugh once again but slowly nod your head. “So we are going to continue breaking into houses like this?”

“It could be our thing.” He grins.

Our.

“Or would you rather the hospital instead? Like you suggested?”

It takes you a moment but when you remember it, you laugh. “Oh god, you heard that.”

“Mhmm.” Yoongi nods, “It made me think about doing it in my workplace.”

Not when all I could think of was having you bent over that counter with your panties around your ankles.

“Someday, when I have a place of my own, maybe after closing hours.” He smirks and you immediately find yourself picturing it already.

“Speaking of the bar,” You remember that man as you turn toward Yoongi, sitting sideways. “There was a bartender there who knew my name.”

“Who knew your name?” Yoongi frowns before realizing, “Hoseok?”

“I think that’s what his name tag read?”

“Probably him, I can’t think of anyone else who knows.”

“You told him about us?” Your eyes widen.

“What? No,” He adds slowly. “He saw your name flashing on my phone screen a couple of times.”

“Oh.” The panic ebbs a little. “Oh so you saved my contact as Y/n?”

“Yeah.” He nods like it was obvious before squinting at you. “Why? What did you save mine as?”

The Agreement.

“MYG” You lie confidently.

Why did you lie? Because you thought is might hurt his feelings? Why did that matter? You know why.

“Though…..” He speaks, still thinking. “Would that be such a bad idea? Telling people about us?”

You nervously laugh. "W-Why did you think of that all of a sudden?”

Why Yoongi?

“You were quite terrified when you thought I told Hoseok about us.”

“No I mean…..” You swallow not knowing what to say. “You said so yourself, we don’t mean enough to each other to share so much.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“What will we even tell people? What are we Yoongi?” You smile sadly. “We are just an agreement. Something that started with two rules and that will end with one sentence.”

Say I’m wrong Yoongi. Say we could be more.

“You’re right, We are just an agreement. ” He nods. “What would we even tell people?”

You : That I am falling for this man. Yoongi : That I’ve long fallen for this woman.

But both things were left unsaid, only a strange silence in the space between you two, sad smiles exchanged in the place of those feelings.

#yoongi smut #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #btsguild #yoongi angst #bts smut #bts angst #unfamiliar #jiminwreckedme

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