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forever-rogue · 4 years

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A Good Man - Part 1

A/N: So...this turned out to be much more than I intended. It’s not a one off, oh no, could I ever really do that? It’s going to be three parts (and yes, I am committing to three and three only before this gets away from me), and yes I guarantee you there will be smut. You can’t have professor Javi without some smut, after all. Shout out to the amazing and lovely @rosetophighlander for listening to my ideas and inspiring me! As always, comments and feedback is welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! xx

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: none

A GOOD MAN��‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier Peña was a good man. At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself. He was a good man with a bad past. A past he had pointedly left behind in Colombia. But even now, years later, memories haunted him at night - it wasn’t a regular occurrence, but it was often enough. Enough to have him startle awake, drenched in sweat as his chest heaved up and down. Enough to make him feel like a bad man again.

But that wasn’t him anymore - no. He was a bad man then and he was trying to rectify that now by being a good man. He was a good man, and what was in the past was in the past. It didn’t matter it anymore; he had to bury it and let it die. But every time he thought he had, he still found himself plagued by the memories. Shit.

He’d returned to Texas when everything was said and done, and taken up a post as a university teacher. It was boring; drool, but most importantly, it was a safe bet. A college professor, who would have thought? If you would have told him this a few years ago while he was in the midst of the drug war trying to bring down both Pablo Escobar and the Cali Cartel, he would have laughed in your face and told you to fuck off. But that was then, and this was now, a very different reality with a very different version of him. Well...no. Javi was still Javi underneath it all, the same man he had always been, he was just trying to be the best man he could be. Trying to make right what in his head claimed made him so bad.

He was regimented now, almost to a fault, keeping up a routine that claimed most of his mind that wouldn’t let his mind wander too far off track. Gods, he needed a therapist. He knew he did; it was forever on his to do list. Forever the one thing he would get to eventually because it wasn’t pressing enough. Forever the thing he would do when he had more time. Instead he found solace, a small sense of reprieve in his small four-legged friend.

He was a small, wiry thing with ears that always seemed perked up, colored like sweet milk and honey, affectionately named Stevie, much to Steve Murphy’s chagrin. He served as a good distraction and pseudo-therapist for all that seemed to bother the ex-DEA agent. Sometimes Javi felt bad about how he confided in his little friend but Stevie loved him back all the same, showering him in affection whenever he could.

His routine was the same almost every day, allowing for some variance on weekends. It was strict, almost authoritarian but he had come to have a certain reverence for it. Up at six, out for a jog or walk with Stevie, breakfast for the two of them followed by a shower, at work by 9, a morning class full of mainly bright eyed freshman, followed by office hours where he would check on the dog and then return to eat his lunch by himself, almost always a sandwich, coffee, and some sort of berry, two afternoon classes of disinterested juniors, seniors, and those who seemed to never leave college, followed by a few hours of paperwork and grading before arriving home between six and seven, followed by a simple dinner for himself Stevie. To pass the time he’d read or watch a movie or show, but it was almost always lights out by ten. Sometimes he’d fall asleep quickly, other times it would take him hours. Hours of his brain buzzing with repressed thoughts and emotions that he put off until he fell asleep and repeated his routine the next day.

Weekends allowed for some flexibility instead of the monotonous rigidity. He let himself sleep in longer, go for a long walk with Stevie and have a leisurely lunch, and laze about the house. Sometimes he’d meet up with a friend, usually a coworker from another department and have a drink or two, nothing too excess, before turning in well before midnight. On the rare occasion where he felt restless enough and couldn’t be alone with his own thoughts, he’d go and take himself to a movie, a play, a museum, something that would keep his mind occupied. But by Monday morning he was back to routine. Back to that rigid pattern that kept him on track.

And it had been enough. It had to be enough...right?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Teaching at his alma mater of Texas A&M in the sleepy town of Kingsville had proven to be both a curse and a blessing. When he’d left the DEA, unsure of what to do, what do he really wanted to do with his life now, he had turned his attention back home. One thing had let to another and, surely with some help from his former cohorts at the DEA, he’d lined himself up a fairly easy teaching gig. It wasn’t anything he had ever really given much thought to, but just like his routine, it had become familiar, mind numbing, and easy. It didn’t take much before it had become part of his regimented life.

He enjoyed the almost anonymity of it all; no one really knew who he was, the things, both horrible and great, that he had done, no one knew his previous reputation, no one judged him before they had the chance to meet him. He was, first and foremost, Professor Peña. The students came and went; no one questioned who he was truly was and he never offered. As far as his students were concerned, he offered them the tiniest shred, if any at all, of his personal life. It had it easy - simple - to keep things strictly business.

There had been a few times, a few moments when his heart had almost stopped, that a student would stop by his desk after he’d dismissed everyone and ask him his past. It hadn’t been more than maybe four or five in total, but it had still brought a grimace to his face each time. But instead of completely dismissing anyone, he’d politely decline to answer anything beside easy questions, the kind that were of public knowledge.

Otherwise he insisted that if they ever have any questions related to the course, exams, or homework, they were welcome to come to see him during his office hours. He had a presence about him, not intimidating per se, but firm and strong that usually deterred people from questioning him any further. They almost never came to his office hours; pretty much no one did. Which was completely fine by him because it always gave him a chance to stay on top of the mountains of paperwork the university imposed on everyone.

Much to his chagrin, however, this year the school’s newspaper had decided to start a professor spotlight column in their monthly magazine. Something about connecting students and professors and creating more of a sense of community. A load of bullshit, was what he thought, but he didn’t push the envelope. He wasn’t trying to ruffle any feathers, to step on anyone’s toes; no, he aimed to blend in. But something about having been the man to help bring down Pablo Escobar and the Cali Cartel made him a subject of interest; naturally it was only a matter of time before eager, hungry eyes were turned to him.

But Javi knew he couldn’t really decline, it would have been against decorum and he wanted no eyebrows raised in his direction. So, he answered the curious student reporter’s questions with basic answers, just enough to give a taste and satiate them, but not enough to have to dig deep. He let them take his picture, let them publish it in their magazine, hoping that not many students would actually read the column, and just gloss over it. He wasn’t sure if he could handle tons of students only signing up for his class for him. He had not plans on indulging them any further into personal life.

But his routine, regimented schedule was all fine and dandy, and surely he thought they would be enough. They had to be enough, right? That’s what he thought. Surely the monotony of teaching countless students would be enough; that’s what he had come to believe anyway. It had worked out for the two prior years, surely it should have been the same going into his third year there.

Until the day you stepped into his classroom on that first day of that brand new semester and school year. You weren’t like the others...you looked excited, alert, like you actually wanted to be there. Like you wanted to listen to him teach. Like you cared. The swarm of students surrounding you barely looked alive, but you did. There was a certain magnetic charm that you possessed that happened to draw in everyone around you, including the man at the front of the room. The man that was determined to adhere to the strict routine that he had concocted for himself; the man that vowed he not stray from his class structure. The man that so desperately just wanted to be a good man.

He hadn’t noticed you at first, keeping his gaze focused on the papers and stacks on his desk, picking up the roll call sheets and running through them with a sense of disinterest. Name after name of students that probably just took the class because they needed some sort of credit. They responded in voices that were barely audible, tones that strongly suggested that they did not care whether he made a note of them being in attendance.

But when he got to your name, calling it out softly, and he heard you confidently and happily respond with a loud here, his deep brown eyes almost jumped out of his sockets. He paused and looked up, taking a moment to push his thick, dark rimmed glasses up his noise, before searching for you in a sea of students. But he knew he had found you when he spied the beautiful face beaming back at him. You offered him the biggest smile he had ever seen within the confines of the small lecture hall.

He was momentarily phased, but the corners of his mouth lifted up slightly as he returned your brilliant smile with the best he could muster up. But before he could get too caught up in anything, even a singular thought that roamed freely, someone loudly coughed and snapped him out of his trance. Quickly switching back to his professor mode, he looked back at the roster and called out the rest of the names, tic marks and blanks boxes galore down the long sheet.

Like his life, his class structure was regimented, and while he thoroughly enjoyed history, he found it difficult, tedious even, to drone on about pre-revolutionary war America for hours. Sometimes it was enough to make his eyes almost glaze over; while it annoyed him that it got to his students as well, he couldn’t always blame them. But there was something about today, the way that you had smiled at him, that sent a spark off deep within him, and something just snapped. He found himself moving more about the lectern, his hands waving more animatedly as he gave his introductory lecture, and most importantly of all, he found himself stealing glances at you. And you met his glances, almost in a challenging way, never looking away when his gaze lingered a few seconds longer than necessary.

But, like everyone else, you were eager to pack up your bag and leave when he was finished and excused everyone. You glanced at him a few times as you slid your notebooks and textbook back into your satchel, wondering if you should introduce yourself, or hell, if he really even cared. But instead of acting on any impulses and potentially making a fool out of yourself, you hitched the bag further up your shoulder and left along with the rest of the crowd, letting them swallow you up and allowing you to blend in. It was the end of the day, everyone was eager to get home, especially after the first day of the new semester. Javier was too; first days were always tiring just alone with administrative tasks and getting to know hundreds of new names and faces. But none of them mattered, not really, they were just more students in an endless sea that he would teach and then forget about as soon as finals were graded and returned.

But somehow...you stuck in his mind. Your face, your curious eyes and soft little smile were already burned into his mind. He found himself musing on it, on how intently you had scribbled down notes, even if he didn’t feel like there was anything to memorize, how your leg bounced up and down the few times your mind seemed to wander as you had glanced around the room, taking in the other students. A low sigh escaped his lips as he slid his paperwork, texts, and other items into his book bag before throwing it over his shoulder. He wasn’t going to let his mind get hung up on you, or anyone or anything else for that matter.

Sure, you were pretty, very pretty, but so were plenty of other students. He wasn’t going to lie to him; he could admit, at least to himself, when he found a student attractive. Sure, you had a smile that had spoken to something within him, but -no. You were one student in a sea of hundreds the had for the semester. You would forget him as soon as you turned in your final and went on winter break. He was sure of it. Javier Peña was trying to be a good man, and letting his thoughts go wild about a student was definitely not part of that plan.

When he got home that evening, he walked in the door and left his bag on the small dresser he kept in the hallway, followed by his keys and shoes before eagerly greeting Stevie. He’d stopped by between classes to take check on him, always making sure he had plenty of food, water, and pets before he had to go back. He glanced around the small kitchen, already pondering what he would make for dinner, knowing he was stocked up on everything he would need for the week. In his retirement from the DEA he had become a meticulous planner, something that easily kept his mind busy, and Sundays had become his grocery shopping days were he loaded up on necessities for the week. It was robotic and allowed for little free thought; routine, routine, routine.

But before he could flick on the soft kitchen light, his hand lingered on the switch, fingers drumming lightly against the plastic plate while he contemplated his next move. Instead of flipping it on, he dropped his hand and grabbed Stevie’s leash off of the counter-top, dropping to his knees as the small dog wagged his tail in sheer excitement at the prospect of a walk. He gave him a few pets as he clipped the lease on, making sure his large ears received a good scratch.

“What do you say you and I go and pick up some pizza, huh? We’ll even get some beer. Call it a guys’ night,” Stevie made a small sound of excitement, clearly acquiescing to Javier’s plan. He stood back up to his full height, his joints crackling lightly as he grabbed his thin windbreaker, wallet, and keys, slipped his shoes back on and walked out the door, his mind already on the pizza place a few blocks away. It wasn’t even anything he really gave too much thought to, it was most certainly not part of his plan. No, this was all new - a break.

It was the first Javier Pena had strayed from his evening routine in almost three years.

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as you stepped through the door of your apartment you let out a long sigh as you tossed your book bag onto the floor and stumbled into the living room, flopping face down on the well worn couch. Sarah, your closest confidant and roommate throughout your college experience, looked up from her book and with a small smirk on her face. She’s gotten out of her classes and finished for the day hours ago.

“First day was that good, huh?” she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, as you turned your head to glare at her. She was in her last year of school too but had been smart, so you’d come to realize, and taken more classes than she needed in earlier years so her last year would be a breeze. You envied her and wished you’d done the same; now you were stuck with classes that were long, tedious, and required more thinking than you would have liked.

“I don’t know how I’m going to survive this semester,” you admitted with a heavy sigh; you had no one to blame but yourself. It still didn’t make your little pity party any better, “today’s classes were...boring at best, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a teacher that cared less than my last one. The topic’s already not my favorite, clearly not his, and I have no clue how I’m going to survive the semester, and this stupid class was the only one open that satisfied one of my last requirements. I’m trying to be excited, you know, to trick myself into liking it, but I dunno if that’s gonna work out.”

��If it all goes to hell, there’s always next semester,” she offered with a shrug before closing her book and tossing it on the coffee table, “what class it is?”

“Pre-revolutionary war American history,” you groaned as she gave you a pained look. Nothing about any of the words that spilled forth from your mouth sounded even remotely exciting, “aka hell. Whoever decided that there should be a whole dedicated college course to this subject clearly wasn’t in their right mind.”

“Hey,” she said suddenly, slipping out of the arm chair and trekking into the small kitchen, before rustling through a static of old mail. She was silent for a few moments before letting out a small aha and grabbing something out before tossing it at you, “I thought that class sounded familiar. Isn’t the guy teaching it the one that in the teacher highlight thing for this month or whatever?”

“You actually think I read this?” you scoffed and took the small magazine, shifting through the pages as you tried to find what she was referring to you. You made it almost to the end before finding the small article hidden and tucked away at the back. Quickly skimming it, you found your professor’s small, grainy, black and white picture staring back at you, “Javier Peña. Yup, that’s him.”

“He’s hot,” Sarah quipped over your shoulder as you silently rolled your eyes at her. That was most definitely not why you had signed up for the class. While you weren’t about to admit you mirrored her thought, you couldn’t help but think she was right. There was something about the small photo looking back up at you that suggested he was...very attractive. Hell, you’d seen him in person, and could confirm. The few times you’d gotten a good look at his face, when he wasn’t bent over his notes or facing the board, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. Tan, golden skin, thick dark hair and eyes, a handsome face. Yeah, he was hot, but you weren’t about to dwell on that, “do you think he’s single?”

“Sarah,” you groaned at her as you read over the article, surprised to find that was ex-DEA, having apprehended some of the most notorious criminals in recent history. He had seemed anything like the man they had discussed in the article when he had stood in front of the class earlier that afternoon, “that is not...no, that has nothing to do with anything. I just need to satisfy a few more credits in history and I’m done. That’s it; nothing more.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged before giving your shoulder a playful nudge, “a little eye candy doesn’t hurt. Especially when you’re taking a class like that. Good lord it sounds awful, I wonder how he got stuck teaching that. Was he as good looking in person?”

“Sar-ah,” you said with her namely slowly as you shook your head at her and sat up. She picked her book back up, a small playing across her features, “none of that matters. But, if you have to know, yes. He was very good looking, in that older guy kind of way.”

“Go on...” she feigned innocence but you could already see the gears turning in her head.

“There’s not much less to say,” you insisted, internally groaning, “wore glasses when he was teaching, white button up, I dunno, the average professor look.”

A damned white button up that had fit him perfectly, highlighting his broad chest, trousers that were slightly tighter than they needed to be, and a silver watch had sat on his wrist. Simple, effective, but yeah, a very good look.

“The average hot professor look, “ she sighed wistfully. The two of you, while best friends at heart, were polar opposites in many ways. While you namely cared about classes and just getting it done, she was more prone to getting lost in her daydream fantasies and pursuing matters of the heart, “I’m just saying! There’s nothing wrong with finding your professor good looking, as long as you’re respectful. Besides, he doesn’t need to know if you think about him at night or when you’re with a boy that you wish was a man like him. Besides, Javier Peña. Professor Peña. That even sounds hot.”

“Why are we friends?” you sighed as you rolled off the couch, a tone of amusement coloring your voice, “why are you the way that you are!?”

“You love me!” she called out after you as you made your way to your bedroom, deciding to get a head start on some work so you wouldn’t already fall behind.

“I’m questioning that,” you stuck your tongue out at her as you grabbed the magazine off the floor and took it along with you. You hoped she wouldn’t notice, but you were sure that her eagle eyed gaze wouldn’t miss a thing, “goodbye and good riddance!’

“Have fun staring at Professor Peña!” your cheeks felt warm and you were sure a deep crimson was already creeping into them. You remained silent as you grabbed your book bag and walked into the room, letting the door slam behind you.

Setting the bag onto your desk, you flopped on your bed as you reopened the magazine and looked back at the small picture again, re-reading the article. It didn’t say much about much him, or speak to who he really was. it was strictly related to business, just like he had seemed to be as he stood in front of the class and gave an almost two hour long lecture with no breaks. He didn’t seem much like a man that was running around and taking down criminals in the heat of Colombia. He had just seemed like a tired, worn out, disinterested man. A far cry from what was presented in the short little article.

And yet...you couldn’t help but think of the few times he met your eyes when he’d occasionally looked up from the board or his lecture notes. You swore there had been a smile on his face then, even if it was a small one, but then again, maybe you had been lost in your own delusions as you had watched him.

You’d even done your best to actively pay attention and take notes, both wanting him to know that you cared about class and because you knew it would be your downfall if you allowed yourself to miss anything. Even if it wasn’t your cup of tea, you wanted to give him your attention; it wasn’t his fault that it was a tiresome subject - someone had to each it after all. You’d felt bad as you looked at everyone around, all so zombie like and disinterested, looking like they would rather have been anywhere else in the world. You were sure he had noticed it too.

But you’d already decided to make an effort to actively participate in his class and do your best. You’d quickly scribbled down his office hours and told yourself that if you needed help or had questions you’d ask before you’d let yourself fall behind and struggle. Maybe he didn’t care, he didn’t really seem to, but you did. You somehow felt a need to prove to yourself that you could handle this class, and to prove to him that someone cared, that his efforts were worth it.

As you dogeared the page with his article on it, you closed the magazine and chucked it into your desk. You didn’t know what his deal was, or wasn’t, but you figured you’d be able to something out of him. Maybe learn more about the man from Colombia, and not just the professor that seemed so lost and wrapped up in his own head.

He had seemed so tired, so...run down that for someone reason it seemed to oddly affect you. Maybe it was because you had seen a glimmer of a smile on his face, watching as his dark eyes had crinkled up the few times he caught your gaze, how it almost reached them fully. Maybe there was more to him, maybe there was more to him than he had wanted to give out. But you were determined to find out what it was.

You were set that you would try and pull something out of Javier Peña, even if it was just a full smile. Something about him spoke to you, something had drawn you to something, causing an itch that you desperately needed to to scratch. And you sure as hell would.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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Professor!Javi Taglist: @misslolasworld @mrsparknuts

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #professor au #professor!javi #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #narcos

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bamsywrites · 4 years

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Mistakes Like These

Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that

Rating: 18+, nsfw

Words: 4877

Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use

Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader

Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.

“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.

Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.

Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.

Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.

You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.

Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.

Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.

And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.

-----------

Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.

In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.

“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.

“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.

You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.

“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”

There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.

“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.

“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.

God, you just wanted to go to your room.

“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”

Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”

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

“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.

Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.

“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.

“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.

“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”

Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”

Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

-----------

You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too. That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.

Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.

You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.

You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.

------

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.

“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.

Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.

“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.

Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.

I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.

The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.

Does she feel as soft as she looks?

He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.

The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.

“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”

Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.

“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”

---------

It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.

There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.

After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.

“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.

“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”

You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.

“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.

“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.

“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.

You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”

Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”

You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”

“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”

You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away. “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, at the time it did.”

You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”

“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.

“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”

“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”

“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.

“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.

“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”

Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”

“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”

Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.

“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.

Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.

Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”

He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”

You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.

“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”

In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.

You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”

Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.

He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.

“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”

You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.

“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”

He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.

“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.

“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”

It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.

“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.

“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”

You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.

“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.

“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.

“You know we can’t uh…-”

“Yup.”

“Like, ever.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”

You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.

“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”

--------

Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.

It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “

“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.

“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”

I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.

“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”

-----------

Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!

#kakyoin x reader #noriaki kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin x reader #kakyoin #jjba #jjba x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro #jojo #stardust crusaders

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 8

(Y/n)'s POV

I know someone at camp resents Percy and me because one night, I come into the cabin alone and find a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article takes me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I get, the more the words float around on the page.

GIRL, BOY, AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT

By Eileen Smythe

Sally Jackson, son Percy, and daughter (Y/n) are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.

Mother, daughter, and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.

Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past.

Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his sister's and his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson, (Y/n), Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free Crimestoppers hotline.

The phone number is circled in black marker.

I wad up the paper and throw it away, flopping down on my bunk on the far edge of the cabin under the window facing the sea.

I remain silent as Percy walks into the cabin, flopping down onto his bunk as well.

That night, I have the worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down!

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up, sure I'm falling.

I am still in bed in Cabin Three. My body tells me it's morning, but it's dark outside, and thunder rolls over the hills.

A storm is brewing.

I hadn't dreamed that . . .

I hear a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?" Percy asks, sounding uncertain.

Grover trots inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see the two of you."

"Why?" I ask, peeking through the curtain separating mine and Percy's side of the cabin.

'He wants to kill . . . I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, Percy and I get dressed and follow, sure we were in huge trouble.

For days, Percy and I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that we were declared children of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figure it's just a crime for us to be alive. The other gods had probably been debating on the best way to punish us for existing, and now Mr. D is ready to deliver their verdict.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looks like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain is coming in our direction. I ask Grover if we'd need an umbrella.

"No," Grover says. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy points at the storm, 'What the heck is that, then?"

Grover glances uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realize that he's right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm . . .

This one's huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin are playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysius's twins - Castor and Pollux - are walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everyone is going about their normal business, but they look tense; they keep their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Percy, and I walk up the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sits at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sits across the table in his fake wheelchair. They are playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D says without looking up. "Our little celebrities."

I wait.

"Come closer," Mr. D says. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortals, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashes across the clouds; thunder shakes the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus grumbles.

Chiron faints interest in his pinochle cards and Grover cowers by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus says, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron puts in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus says. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D - " Chiron warns.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relents. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rises, and the invisible players' cards drop onto the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you two must do."

Dionysus picks up a playing card, twists it, and it becomes a plastic rectangle. A security pass. He snaps his fingers. The air seems to fold and bend around him. He becomes a hologram, a wind, then he is gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiles at me and Percy, but he looks tired and strained. "Sit, Percy,(Y/n), please. And Grover."

We do.

Chiron lays his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, (Y/n)," he says. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Just hearing the name makes me shudder.

Chiron probably wants me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I don't feel like lying.

"It scared me," I admit. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You two will meet worse. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done?" Percy asks. "With what?"

"You're quest, of course," Chiron says. "Will you accept it?"

I glance at Grover, who is crossing his fingers.

"Sir," I say, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaces. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbles across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I can see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I guess. "They're fighting over something valuable . . . something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchange looks.

Chiron shoots forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover says, his eyes bright.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron orders.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes sparkle with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine," Chiron strokes his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, (Y/n), you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughs, looking nervous, "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warns. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron says, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?" I guess.

"Stolen," Chiron corrects.

"By whom?" I ask though I guessed what he was going to say.

"By you two," Chiron says and Percy's jaw drops.

"At least"—Chiron holds up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon argued. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't - We didn't -" Percy goes to say.

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron says. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you two as his children. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief.

"But we've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron and Grover glance nervously at the sky. The clouds don't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They are rolling straight over the valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy . . . ?" Grover says. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggests. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy.

"The Golden Net?" I guess again. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in it and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler?"

"Correct," Chiron says. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you two have come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But we're just kids!" Percy protests.

"Percy," Grover cuts in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, and that he's father, not one, but two mortal heroes who might be used as a weapon against you . . . Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I - we didn't do anything, Poseidon - our dad - he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Percy asks, and I remain silent in thought.

Chiron sighs. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a fullfledged war would look like, Percy? (Y/n)?"

"Bad?" Percy guesses.

"I'd guess that it would be like nature at war with itself," I say and Chiron nods.

"Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight," Chiron adds to (Y/n)'s statement.

"Bad," Percy repeats.

"And you, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

And then, it starts to rain. Volleyball players stop their game and start in stunned silence at the sky.

We had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of us.

"So we have to find that bolt," I say. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron says, "than to have the son and daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property.

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Percy asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression is grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Percy asks.

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I swallow thickly. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I exchange a glance with Percy, then Grover, who nods encouragingly.

Easy for him, I think. We're the ones Zeus wants to kill.

"All right," Percy says. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron says. "Go upstairs, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

. . .

"Well?" Chiron asks us.

We slump into our chairs at the pinochle table. "She said we would retrieve what was stolen.

Grover sits forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron presses. "This is important."

My ears are still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She said we would go west and face a god who had turned. We would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover says.

Chiron doesn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," Percy says. "That's about it."

He studies Percy's face, then meets my green gaze. "Very well. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I get the feeling he knows we're holding something back, and he's trying to make us feel better.

"Okay," Percy says, looking anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron says."if Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain."

"Someone else who wants to take over?" I guess.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Chiron nods. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbles out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh - what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminds him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but - but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protests. "Especially if he has found out Percy and (Y/n) are children of Poseidon . . ."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continues. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy and (Y/n) to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill these young half-bloods before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I mutter. "That's two major gods who want to kill us."

"But a quest to . . ." Grover swallows. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy and (Y/n) must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

A strange fire burns in my stomach. The weirdest thing is, it isn't fear. It's anticipation. The desire for revenger. Hades had tried to kill me two times so far with the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It is his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he is trying to frame me, my dad, and my brother for a theft we hadn't committed.

Grover is trembling now; he'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy had to complete a quest with me and Percy so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that is, but how can I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said we were destined to fail?" This is a suicide mission.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy tells Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron says. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used," Percy says.

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed you and (Y/n) now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs the two of you."

My dad needs us.

Emotions roll around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I don't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.

3rd Person POV

Percy looks at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said . . . I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

(Y/n) gets the feeling that there is a lot he wasn't telling them about the prophecy, but she decides that she couldn't worry about that at the moment. After all, she and Percy were hiding back information too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy says. "We're supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron says.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

(Y/n) looks over at Grover, who gulps down the ace of hearts.

"But I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asks weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy tells him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh . . ." He shifts his hooves. "No . . . it's just that satyrs and underground places . . . well . . ." He takes a deep breath, then stands, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his t-shirts. "You saved my life, (Y/n), Percy. If . . . if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let the two of you down."

Percy feels so relieved that he wanted to cry, though he didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover is the only friend she'd ever had for longer than a few months. Percy isn't sure what a satyr can do against the forces of the dead but he feels better knowing he'd be with them.

"All the way, G-man," Percy turns to Chiron. "The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looks surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

Percy's POV

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane -"

"No!" Grover shrieks. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me and (Y/n) anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.

"Percy, think," Chiron says. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackles and thunder booms.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, not looking up at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron says. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered if you will accept her help."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Gee," I say, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a suicide quest like this?"

The air shimmers behind Chiron.

Annabeth Chase becomes visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," she says. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks flush. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth is, I do. I need all the help I can get.

"A quartet," I say. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron says. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashes. Rain pours down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron says. "I think you should all get packing."

Word Count: 4018 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

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pinoyrella · 4 years

Text

“A Love So Beautiful” Chapter 6

Chapter 6: “It’s Not A Big Deal”

FT: Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, Yachi Hitoka, Ono-Sensei, Y/N’s Parents + Manami Aoki.

TW: Mild Language

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst, Coming of Age + Slow Burn

- This chapter contains mostly drama, and fluff thanks to Kageyama.

- This chapter is also slight Kageyama x Y/N

WORD COUNT: 4,800+

“A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL” Masterlist 🌸

A/N: BA BOOM! Hi everyone, I hope I didn’t leave you guys hanging too long with that cliff hanger??? Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for the endless support, LUB YOU ALL!!💖

The sound of an alarm brings you to consciousness. Keeping yourself under your covers, you turn to glance at the clock, ‘07:00a.m’. It’s been two days since Karasuno had defeated Shiratorizawa. It’s been two days since you’ve gone outside. It’s been two days since you last saw him.

Groaning as you slip the warmth weight of your blanket off, you step out of bed feeling the cold tile of your bedroom floor chill you. Making your way to the bathroom, you stop by the sink, staring at your reflection.

Throughout the weekend, you have cried yourself to bed. For the past three nights in a row, waking up tired, red and sore eyes every morning. You have barely left anywhere but your room, only making occasional trips to the bathroom, and to the kitchen.

Being stuck in your room left you with no motivation to do anything at all. You were already behind in all of your studies, but you couldn’t find it in you to move from your bed.

You’ve barely talked to anyone at all, not your friends, not your parents, you’ve isolated yourself to everyone and everything. Is this what heartbreak is like? Is this even considered heart break? What is this?

You barely notice the presence that passes by the bathroom, your dad about to question why you’re just standing in front of the mirror, before his wife pulls him away into the kitchen down the hall.

“Wh- Hun?” “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it” “What?” Your dad questions your mom as she lets out a sigh. “Am I not allowed to ask our daughter why she’s been in such a depressing mood for the past weekend?”

Your mom gives your dad a sincere look of worry, looking towards your direction before back at him. “She’s a growing teenager, she’s going through adolescents. I’m sure she’s fine.” She reassures, your dad giving a sigh of frustration. “You don’t know that, what if somethings wrong? She only came out of her room to grab snacks and use the restroom.”

“Akiteru-kun called me the other night.” “What?” “He told me Kei-kun and Y/n got into some sort of fight-” “WHAT?!” Your dad is about to storm out to teach the younger Tsukishima a lesson for hurting his precious baby, before his wife stops him yet again. “She’s going to be alright, this is her aftermath from their argument. She fought with one of her best friends, this is a normal reaction. She needs time to herself, you need to be patient until she’s back to normal.” Your mom explains, your dad pausing as he processes the information.

The sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen causes the two to turn their heads to you, as you make your way to the fridge to grab a carton of strawberry milk, not even making eye contact with them before strutting out, getting ready to exit the house for school.

Your parents share a look with each other before letting out another sigh.

“I’m heading off” You say out loud as you slip your shoes on.

You poke the straw into the milk carton as you make your way out your front gate, looking up to realize Tsukishima parked out front on his bike, waiting for you.

Your eyes widen in shock, looking both ways before booking it down the opposite side of the street. The sound of your shoes hitting the ground causes Tsukishima to turn, watching as you run off the opposite way to school.

He lets out a sigh, memories of the past Friday flashing back. He feels the same awful and heavy guilt that’s deep in the pit of his stomach, deciding its best to leave you alone for now, giving you the space you needed, before riding off to school.

You barely make it to class in time, the moment you step in through the door frame, the bell ringing exactly, as the class turns to look at you.

You quickly take a seat, pulling out your notebook and pencils as Ono-sensei makes her way in.

“Good morning class!” She says as the class greets back. “Before we start of the day, let’s take the time to congratulate the four boys in our class, for helping their team make it to Nationals last Friday.”

The class erupts enthusiastically, turning to congratulate the four boys on the volleyball team once again.

You sink your head down, the cheerful attitude making it feel like you were suffocating.

Kageyama’s the first to notice, about to lean forward to tap your shoulder before Ono-sensei resumes her announcement.

“Now that’s over with” She reveals a stack of documents from her podium, dropping it harshly. “I’m sure you are all aware, midterms are approaching.” The class groans in anguish before she continues. “I know, I know. This is the last exam before your finals, the finals that will determine your placement next year.” She glances around the class, her eyes falling on you. “I need you all to start taking this seriously.”

You gulp in your seat as she calls for Manami to pass out the study packets.

“I have assigned you all into study groups of three, you are to complete this packet by the end of next week with your group. Afterwards, we are to take the midterm, understood?”

“Yes” The class replies in sync as she begins reading off her list of groups.

Your brain is spiraling, hoping you’re not placed in the same group as you know who, hoping at least she will spare you from having to work with that stingy bean pole, or at least have one of your close friends with you, for comfort purposes.

“Yachi-chan, Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun.” You sink as she had just announced that 3 out of the 4 friends you were hoping to be paired up with are called. You are praying to every deity out there, that you will be in a group with Yamaguchi. Better yet, you rather be paired with that she-devil Manami Aoki than Tsukishima.

Just as you thought your prayers were answered- “Y/n-chan, Yamaguchi-kun-” ‘YES!’ You thank the Gods, your mind feeling the content it had deserved all weekend. “and Tsukishima-kun.”

You drop your head to your desk, causing the attention of the class to be drawn to you.

You groan into your arms as Yachi tries to help you emotionally. “Y/n?” “Hey” You look up to make eye contact with Manami. “Ono-sensei is calling for you” She says before taking her seat.

You wave to Yachi before making your way out to her office.

“Ono-sensei?” You peak your head in, and she notices you by the door. Getting up from her seat, she greets you, offering for you to sit on the sofa just across her desk. “Y/n-chan, please come in!” You make your way to sit before she shuts the door.

“Manami-chan said you c-called?” You nervously ask, wondering why you were called up into your homeroom teacher’s office.

“Y/n” Her voice, stern as ever. “Your grades, what’s going on?” She questions as she looks directly into your soul.

You gulp yet again as she slips a paper over the desk from her side to yours. You lean closer, seeing the paper adorned with D’s and F’s, scores below 30, and ‘FAIL’ written on the page.

You look up to her, shaken and she’s aware of it. She sighs before her demeanor softens. “You know I didn’t bring you in here just to interrogate you, but I’m concerned. Your grades have been slipping since the beginning of the semester, you used to be in the average zone, now look.” She points to a bar at the end of the transcript. “You are very below average, you are in a very dangerous zone. If you don’t pass this midterm, you won’t qualify to even take the finals. You will have to repeat this semester.” She explains.

You look up to her, eyes watering trying to explain something. She gives you the look of remorse before taking the transcript back to her end, looking at it before looking back to you. “I know this is a very stressful and difficult situation, but you need to know that as your homeroom teacher, I’m here to help and assist you in every way.”

You whimper a quiet “thank you” before she smiles, then continuing. “I am aware of your close relations to Yamaguchi-kun and Tsukishima-kun.” The names of your two closest friends causes you to glance up to her. “That’s why I paired you up with them for the study group. They’re two of the top students in our class.” She explains as you nod to her.

“They’re also your friend, I can trust them to help you.” You sigh, “Will you be telling my parents?” She adjusts her seating position before gazing back to you. “I already have.” She says before you give her an understanding nod.

“I know at your age, it’s very stressful with so many events going on. You’re growing and understanding more about yourself, but you also need to grow and understand more of your academics.” You give her another quiet nod, before she lets out a final sigh.

“That’s all I wanted to inform you” She stands from her seat, making her way to the door opening it, before making her way to you, kneeling and placing a hand to your shoulder. “I believe you can do it.” You give her a hug and your thanks before heading out.

Walking down the hall, you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan before bumping into someone. “S-sorry!” You squeak before looking up.

“Boss?” Kageyama looks down and notices the red swelling in your eyes. “What happened?” He asks, taking a step closer, using his blazer to wipe off your tear stained cheeks. You sniff before looking up to him and smiling. “It’s not a big deal, come on let's get back to the class!” You grab his wrist, dragging him with you.

As you sit, you watch as Yamaguchi notices you, giving a sweet smile before making his way over. “When do you want to start studying?” He asks you. “I’m alright whenever” You reply. “Tsukki- Um, we’re going to head to my house after school to study, will you be coming?” Your mind takes you back to what Ono-sensei had warned you, this midterm is very important. “Yes, I’ll be there Yams!” He gives your head a pat before going back to his seat.

Just as school ends, you make your way home first, informing Yamaguchi you were going to change into something more comfortable, and pick up some of the notebooks you left.

Back at home, you make your way in until your parents call out to you. ‘Shit, I forgot Ono-sensei told them about my grades.’ You curse to yourself before making your way to the dining table, sitting as your parents turn to you.

“Y/n” You watch your mom slap your dad’s shoulder. “Baby, we’re not mad” She starts. ‘No, but dad is’ You turn up to glance at your dad, he looks insane trying to conceal the fume burning through his ears. “But-” And so you were scolded by your parents for the next half hour, before finally changing, retrieving your notebooks and heading to Yamaguchi’s.

“Y/n!” The cheerful greeting coming from the freckled boy as he lets you in. You walk with him side by side to his room, as you walk in you make eye contact with the boy you were hoping to not see for the next 10 years of your existence. You sit down opposite to him on Yamaguchi’s kotatsu, before preparing your notebook.

“We’re going to go over what Ono-sensei taught during math” Yamaguchi says, and you give a nod, still avoiding the blonde in front of you.

The tension in the room is absolutely crazy, Yamaguchi thinks of grabbing some snacks for the three of you, but doesn’t think of leaving you two alone in the same room. He stills with his head down to his notebook, thinking of how he can help with the tension in the room.

The sound of scribbling against the poor notebook paper, and the amount of eraser marks left around causes Tsukishima to glance up to your paper, watching as you were way off path from solving the problem.

Just as Yamaguchi had thought of an idea, Tsukishima speaks up.

“The auxiliary line’s wrong.” He states bluntly before bringing his hand closer to grab your notebook. You snap back immediately, pulling your notebook away from his grasp. “There’s answers in the back. I can read it.” You state before taking the math textbook from Yamaguchi, flipping it to the end, finding the question.

You scan the page, finally finding the question before seeing that it doesn’t give you an exact answer. Tsukishima is aware of that, he knows the textbook like the back of his hand. He watches as you struggle and stare at the page before speaking up again. “Let me show you” he lightly grabs the end of your notebook, bringing it closer to him before you quickly snatch it back, not making eye contact with him. “I’ll do it myself.” You bark.

Yamaguchi sits in the middle, his soul already gone from his earthly body, watching the situation unfold. He has no idea what the fuck to do.

“You only know the word ‘answer’, everything in your notebook is wrong.” “But that’s what I wrote myself. It’s none of your business.” Yamaguchi glances over to Tsukishima, oh no.

“I don’t want to help you at all, but I have to because it’s required in case your grade humiliates the whole class.”

You freeze, the word ‘humiliate’ that left his mouth taking you back to last Friday in the infirmary.

Yamaguchi notices your triggered state before turning to Tsukishima, pissed. “Tsukki, don’t say that-” The sound of your notebook shutting aggressively startles the two as it cuts Yamaguchi off. You begin to shove your belongings into your backpack before looking up at Tsukishima, the first time all day. “Since our good boy Tsukishima Kei says so, I won’t put shame on your great class 4.” You turn to Yamaguchi, before turning back to Tsukishima. “I’m leaving” As you head towards Yamaguchi’s bedroom door, you hear Tsukishima scoff. “Leave? Whatever you like.” “FINE!” You yell before storming out.

It’s been another four days since that incident at Yamaguchi’s, you’ve been ignoring both boys. A bit guilty for Yamaguchi, but you didn’t want to drag him down with your ‘humiliating’ grades, you thought to leave him alone so he can focus on his priorities, studying.

You sat at the desk in your room. Your notebooks, stationary, textbooks and study guide sprawled out, but yet you still can’t concentrate. Even worse; your desk faces right outside your bedroom window, with a perfect view to Tsukishima’s. You look up to notice as Tsukishima’s bedroom door opens, watching him walk in before you immediately jump to shut your blinds.

You huff as you sit and stare at the blank page of your notebook for what felt like another hour, before grabbing your hoodie, making your way downstairs and out the front door.

You thought, if you can’t concentrate, you ought to take a stroll to maybe help clear your mind. You feel your throat become hoarse, dried out from the walking before you notice a vending machine. You make your way over, about to purchase a carton of strawberry milk before you realize, you hadn’t brought your wallet with you. Just as you began walking to continue your stroll, you nearly bump into someone.

Immediately apologizing, cursing your mind for being elsewhere rather than the road, you look up to meet the shock expression of a familiar blueberry eyed boy. “Y/n?”

And this is where you found yourself, sat outside of Ukai’s shop, besides Kageyama as you play with the straw that is poking out from the milk carton. Kageyama notices your behavior, thus asking why you were walking around almost past the sunset.

You explain to him how you couldn’t concentrate on studying for the past week, before asking him why he was out.

“I’m just on my daily jog.” He says before looking back out into the sky.

The two of you sat in silence before the growl of your stomach caught the boy’s attention. You blush in embarrassment before he gets up, going back into Ukai’s, only to come out with two kare pans in hand. He takes your hand, pulling you up before handing it to you. The two of you walk, before stopping by a nearby park.

Taking a seat on the swing, you thank Kageyama again before biting into the kare pan.

There is this comfortable silence before your whimpers causes his head to turn to you.

You sit, swaying on the swing as you continue to eat the kare pan in hand. Kageyama, having no idea what to do, reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong?” He asks worried. You look to him as tears continue to stream down your face.

You drop your hand holding the kare pan to your lap, before bringing the sleeve of your hoodie to wipe your eyes.

“Ono-sensei says, if I fail this midterm, I would have to repeat the semester.” Kageyama nods as you continue, listening to the pent up emotions you kept to yourself this past week. “It’s just, it’s not that. It would be pretty stupid to cry over something so small, it’s not a big deal anyways” You admit before he states. “Don’t say that!” You look to him, giving a soft smile before continuing.

“In all honesty, I have no idea what I’m doing.” Your gaze falling back down. “I feel silly to chase after something I know I have no chance with, that I’m not good enough for, better yet, it’s not something meant for me.” You play with the wrapper of the kare pan as Kageyama listens. “Maybe this outcome was inevitable, I mean, I guess it was never meant to be. I’m just not it.” You admit, another tear streaming down. “I had my priorities all wrong.”

Kageyama gives you a look of confusion as he processes your thoughts, then coming with an idea of what you were talking about.

He watches as you bring the kare pan back to your mouth, taking a bite, your cheerful mood returning after expressing your emotions.

Kageyama can’t help but stare and smile as your face turns into a look of delicious satisfaction from the tasty treat in your hands. You feel his gaze, turning to look back to him, he immediately turns his to the sunset from afar.

“Boss, look” He points as you watch the sun begin to set.

As the sunset catches your eyes, you catch Kageyama’s.

How beautiful the golden hour glow cascades onto your facial features, the way your eyes reflect onto the warm sun, and the smile slowly creeping across your face.

You couldn’t think of anything else but how beautiful the sunset looked, and Kageyama, he couldn’t think of anything else but how beautiful you looked.

The sun finally sets, and you two finish the kare pans in hand. You, actually finishing Kageyama’s too, before the two of you head off.

“I don’t want to go home yet” Kageyama turns his head to you, as you walk slowly.

“Can I show you something?”

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to intrude, Tobio!” You whisper to him as he holds the door to his house open for you.

You see as he rolls his eyes with a smile, before grabbing your hand and bringing you in.

He shuts the door behind you and asks for you to follow him, taking you to his backyard.

“Whoa-” You take a step out, as he shuts the sliding door behind you.

“Your backyard is huge! Is that an entire volleyball court?” You point to the volleyball net that spreads across his yard. “Did you invite me over just to show off your big backyard? I’ll have you know, my backyard may not be as big but-” You joke before he butts in. “No, come on I want to show you something.”

He walks closer to the volleyball net, you follow after him.

You bring your hand up to the net, grazing your touch over, feeling how worn out and used it has been. You turn to notice Kageyama bending over to pick up an object from the ground before turning to you.

You look and notice a volleyball, just as worn out and old as the net.

Your face contorts into one of confusion as he leans against the net, spinning the ball in hand.

“I used to practice with my grandfather everyday here.” He begins. “He was the one who had introduced me to volleyball, he had taught me everything I needed to know” You hear him sigh, standing from the net, looking up into the sky. “Both in volleyball, and in life.” Your eyes water, as your friend opens up to you. His gaze turns to you, “before he passed, he told me something” he walks closer to you, staring into your eyes, before lightly handing the old volleyball into your palms, his hands cupping the bottom of yours as you held the ball together. “If you get really good... I promise you... somebody who's even better will come along and find you.”

He lets go of your hands, leaving you with the ball as he looks back up to the sky.

“Though, I’m sure he was referring to volleyball with that.” He turns back to you. “I think, you can apply that saying to real life”

You bring a hand up to your mouth, trying to cancel the sob trying to escape. Kageyama immediately notices and comes to your aid. “I-I’m sorry- I’m not really good with this kind of stuff but-” He gets cut off with your sudden hug, as you sob into his chest.

“Thank you Tobio” You mumble, before pulling away. “I really needed that.” He gives you a sincere smile before the sound of the sliding door opens.

“Tobi- Oh? Is this the infamous Y/n-chan?” “Nee-san.” Kageyama calls out before she makes her way to you two.

“I’m Miwa, this loser’s older sister. Also known as, The Superior Kageyama.” She ruffles the top of Kageyama’s head before holding a hand for you to shake. You accept it, and introduce yourself.

“Wow, she’s even cuter in real life-” “Nee-san.” Kageyama gives his sister a glare before she laughs. “Are you guys hungry? I made pork curry.” You and Kageyama share a look of excitement, before the three of you making it back inside from the cold night weather.

“Thank you so much for having me, Miwa-san” You bow as Kageyama holds the door open, waiting for you. “You are welcome anytime Y/n-chan” She waves as the two of you make your way out.

You two walk in silence as the cold breeze tickles your ears.

You make it just outside before you turn to thank Kageyama for walking you home, and for the sentimental night.

“Thank you for keeping me company tonight Tobio” You ruffle the top of his head, copying his older sister’s actions. “I hope I was able to help, you m-mean... a lot to me, I hate to see you upset” You turn to open your gate, missing the second half of his confession. “Yeah, you did.” You look to him. “I really needed that Tobio, thank you so much again!” You wave before heading in, he watches as you make it inside safely before making his way home.

“Y/n? Where have you been it’s late!” Your mom runs to you, worried for your safety. You explain to her and your dad that you needed to take a stroll to clear your mind off things. Your much cheerful behavior startling them, before you make your way up to your room to focus back on your work.

The following Monday, Tsukishima had gone to school without waiting outside your gate. He feels as this week has gone by so slowly, it feels so weird not having you around like usual. And now he has two things to be sorry for.

As his mind is in another place, he is startled by a voice calling to him. “Tsukishima-san” He looks up only to meet eyes with you, taken back by your formality, not used to you calling him that.

‘Can you please help me with this problem?” You ask, he nods before replying. “Library later?” You nod, giving a smile before heading back to your seat.

You two find yourselves alone in the library after school. Yamaguchi not being able to attend this study session, having to deal with volleyball stuff with Ennoshita and Daichi.

Tsukishima stares, watching as you seem very focused onto your studies, thinking of what happened, wondering how you are able to talk to him all of a sudden. Have you had enough space? Were the two of you okay now? Can he apologize?

“Y/n” He calls to you. “Yes?” You answer, bringing your attention back up to him. The two of you share a brief moment of gazing into each others eyes, before he breaks away, looking down to your notebook. “You got the answer wrong, let me help.” You agree, sliding the notebook over.

He takes the notebook, and begins erasing. You watch him until he asks suddenly, “What made you want to talk to me again?” “What?” He turns the notebook facing you, explaining the problem and what you got wrong. You nod, understanding before taking your notebook, and solving it again. There’s another moment of silence, before you slide the notebook back to Tsukishima for him to check the answer.

“I guess you can say, I have come to realize my priorities” “Priorities? What do you mean?” He asks, his eyes still on your notebook as he checks your answers. “I want to be in the top 15 students.” He brings his gaze up to that statement, looking at the burning determination in your eyes, until you blink, leaning on your arm. “Then I’ll find time to be mad at you.” You give a cheeky smile, missing the one he gives you due to your smart comment.

You take your notebook back after he informs you that it is indeed correct. You feel excitement bubble in you, “Can you help me with this problem too?” The two of you continue to study, each passing day as the week goes by. Meeting everyday after school, reviewing each term, and every lesson.

Before you realized, it was the day of the exam.

Just as you were about to grab a pencil from your case, you open it to find a letter stuck inside.

“Good luck pipsqueak” it reads. You smile, closing your case as you take a deep breath. ‘Let’s do this!’

A month has passed and the exam results are out.

You rush your way past the students crowding the scoreboard, finally managing to squeeze your way to the front, you immediately went on a search for your name. Your eyes scan the board, before you find your name, placed right next to the number 13. You have reached #13 in the top of your class.

In excitement, you turn around, hoping to find Tsukishima to tell him the good news. You turn only to find him in the crowd, looking towards you with a smile before walking away.

You smile back as you watch his figure walk off into the hall.

After school, the six of you find yourselves outside of Coach Ukai’s shop.

Hinata walking out of the store with Kageyama, a plastic bag filled with a pack of strawberry milk.

Your group finds their way to the nearby park, sitting before Hinata starts ripping the plastic from the pack, before handing each individual a carton.

“Today, we celebrate Y/n’s entry into the top 15! We will have strawberry milk instead of champagne! Cheers!” You laugh as you bring your milk carton up towards your friends, as the six of you clink the milk boxes together.

Just as you bring the straw to your lip, you catch the gaze of Tsukishima giving a sly smile, immediately turning away when your eyes meet his.

You split ways with your friends, making your way home with Tsukishima.

“Let’s go, quickly.” He says before he begins walking off. “If you want to go home so quickly, then carry me.” You bite back jokingly. “No” “Why not?” He takes a moment to think, letting out an audible hum. “Too tired.” You roll your eyes before catching up to him.

Staying quiet, the silence throughout the walk in much more calming than the existing tension before. But, it’s still not the same as it used to be.

As you see your houses approaching, Tsukishima calls out to you.

“Y/n.”

You turn, only to find him leaned down as he eyes you. You blink confused, before he stands back up.

“Good job.” He gives you a genuine smile. “I’m proud of you.” What? You try fighting the blush running along your face. “Come again?” “No.” Just as he was about to turn into his house, you grab onto the ends of his shirt. It’s been a while since you last did that, and he missed it so much.

“Thanks Tsukki” You look up to him, giving him that smile he missed so much.

He brings his hand from his pocket up to your head, before ruffling your hair.

“Yeah, whatever.” You let go, waving to him before making your way inside your house.

He watches as you enter, letting out a soft smile.

Running up to your room, you strip your school uniform before hopping into your pajamas, immediately flying into your bed, clutching a pillow close to your chest as you look out your window, staring into his before turning to your back.

Your eyes glued to the ceiling before you drift off to sleep, the last thing on your mind;

“I think I still like you.”

TAGLIST: @cvlliesstuff , @strawberries-en-cream , @beanst0ck , @kimiiiiiiiiii, @lucyheartfilias-wife , @lanatheawesome , @owlnymph

PLEASE LEMME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS (OR IN ASKS) IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 🌸

A/N 2: I really do wanna thank you all so much for reading! You guys are all so sweet and kind and I just ksdhjncsdjk it makes me happy knowing someone is reading my, very cliche, sappy, bad english writing. Thank you to the ends of the Earth and back! You are just so, so incredible, so very incredible 💖

“A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL” Masterlist 🌸

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posi-writes1 · 3 years

Text

Why are you here?

Here is another drabble (or maybe oneshot? I don’t know what the rules are) from my AO3. Nothing to complicated. Just a reader struggling and Oikawa being helpful. Hope you enjoy. :)

Word Count: Just shy of 1.6k

Your eyes glaze over as you listen to your friend ramble on. If you have to sit here and listen to her ramble on about Oikawa freaking Tooru any longer, you are going to implode. You really shouldn’t be surprised that this is where your afternoon study session went. It had become the norm. The two of you would meet up at the cafe around the corner from the school to go over your homework together and she would eventually lead you down the Oikawa conversation rabbit hole.

You managed to rein her in and keep her on task for approximately 30 minutes today. A new record, you think to yourself proudly. Inevitably though, the conversation went to Oikawa, the charismatic 3rd year and captain of the school’s volleyball team.

It isn’t that you had a problem with him specifically. You just thought he was a bit overrated and fairly annoying. But you didn’t hate him or anything. You shared a class with him. He was a decent student and classmate. Not overly impressive but by no means an idiot.

You do have to admit that he always had a solid showing in volleyball. You have seen him play volleyball, seen the plays he makes up on the fly, the way he strategizes. Oikawa is clever. His motivation entirely focused on being better at his sport. You suppose there is value in his talent there.

You stop that train of thought before it goes too far. You don’t want to think about Oikawa. You turn a vicious glare to your friend. It is her fault you were thinking about Oikawa in the first place. She catches your look and returns your glare with a confused furrow to her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Why are we talking about Oikawa again? I’m tired of hearing about him. He isn’t even that great.” Why do you sound so defensive?

Her cheeks turn dusty pink.

“I’m sorry--I didn’t even realize. Let’s go back to our work?”

You nod stiffly, shaking your thoughts away as you pick up your pen and go back to your homework.

============================================================= You stare at the grade at the top of the paper. You spent the last three days on this thing. How did you get such a crappy grade on it? You clench your fist, the paper crumpling under your hand. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You always have struggled to keep up with their lofty expectations of you. It isn’t a conversation you are looking forward to having this evening over dinner.

You let out a deep sigh and sink down into your chair, your back hunching over and your shoulders coming up to create a barrier around you, a shield to protect you while you work through your thoughts and emotions. You try to tune out your classmates chattering while you steady your breathing. No point in being upset. You will just pick yourself back up, promise your parents you will try harder, and do just that. One mediocre grade isn’t the end of the world...right?

You exhale slowly as you sit back up properly, trying to appear casual as you scan the room around you to see if anyone saw your moment of weakness. Your gaze locks onto soft brown. You stare blankly at Oikawa for a few moments before turning back to your paper. You miss the curious look he gives as his eyes linger on you a little longer.

=============================================================

You hold onto the rusted metal chain as you swing slowly. You cancelled your afternoon study session, choosing to head to the park near your house instead. You wanted to kill time before the moment of reckoning when your parents ask how school was today. The last thing you needed was to be distracted by talk of Oikawa.

What you didn’t notice at that moment was the boy in question strolling past the park on his way home. By coincidence, he stops and glances over to see you on the swings, looking a little worse for wear mentally. It only takes him a moment to make his decision. He makes his way over to you, carefully as if to keep from scaring you away. He knows you don’t like him much but he can’t just ignore you when you look so sad.

You don’t notice his presence initially, the only thing alerting you to another person’s presence was the squeak of metal coming from the swing next to yours. Your head shoots up as you look around. The identity of your company throws you.

“Oikawa?” You sound incredulous.

“Yes?” He hums out in response as he pushes off to start the swing moving.

“Why are you here?” You flinch internally at the aggression in your tone. If Oikawa notices (he does), he doesn’t mention it.

“Well isn’t it obvious? I’m enjoying the swings.”

Your expression falls flat, your words tired.

“Oikawa, what do you want? I would like to be left alone.”

He brings his feet down abruptly, coming to a sudden stop and turning to watch you carefully.

“You want me to leave?”

You return his look warily.

“Do what you want.”

“Alright then.” He resumes his swinging. You think he is doing this just to frustrate you and it is working.

The two of you swing, the only sound breaking the silence was the squeak of rusted metal on metal, for about 5 minutes before Oikawa speaks again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pause.

“Talk about what? Nothing going on here. Nothing at all. Besides, even if there was something, why would I want to talk about it with you?”

He shrugs. “Impartial third party?”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you have a volleyball to hit around? Or fangirls to charm?”

He shrugs again, choosing not to respond verbally this time, waiting for me to break, to talk to him. You tighten your lips into a straight line as you look across the park. Maybe if you refuse to engage with him, he will give up and go away. Another five minutes pass before you realize that he doesn’t plan to give up that easily.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” The venom that laced your words earlier had faded significantly. You just sound worn down now.

“Okay.” He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t care one way or the other.

You huff and slow your swing to a stop. You toe at the dirt as you collect your thoughts.

“Do you ever get tired of the expectations?” Your words are so quiet you weren’t even sure if you said them out loud. You must have because Oikawa’s attention immediately snaps to you. He doesn’t seem to need long to consider his answer.

“No.”

You weren’t sure if the answer you expected but it also didn’t surprise you.

“Why not? How do you handle it?”

This answer he contemplates for a few minutes. You wait patiently, just as he has for you through this whole interaction.

“Turn it into motivation, the extra push I need sometimes.” He hums softly, mulling over his words before he continues. “But--ultimately--the expectations of others shouldn’t matter.”

You scoff, of course he would make it seem that simple. “Sure.”

“Are you happy?”

The question catches you off guard and your mouth drops open as you stare at him dumbly.

“Well what does that even have to do with anything?”

“Well--if you are happy, the expectations shouldn’t matter as much, right? Take volleyball--”

You interrupt him with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression. “Does it have to be volleyball?”

He grins brightly in your direction. It’s disarming.

“Yes it does. Now listen. People have expectations of my skill, right?”

He pauses and looks to you for affirmation. You nod. He takes that to mean you are listening to him and continues.

“Well, sometimes, I will admit, it does get tiring. But, volleyball makes me happy. I practice and train to get better for my happiness, not theirs. These are my dreams on the line, not theirs. My happiness can’t hinge on their expectations.”

The words roll around in your brain as you try to comprehend what he was telling you. Did Oikawa just give you advice in a roundabout way? And decent advice at that? Silence settles around the two of you again before you stand, dusting off your skirt and turning to Oikawa.

“Okay.”

Confusion paints his features as he stands to join you.

“Okay?”

You nod resolutely. You feel ready to head home.

“Okay. I’m going to find my happiness.”

He looks surprised that you actually listened to him as you turn away from him and begin to walk away.

You stop about halfway to the entrance of the park before abruptly turning and stalking back in his direction. His confusion turns to concern as he watches you make your back over. Confusion turns to shock as you stand on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. You pat his face lightly over the spot your lips just left as you plant your heels back on the ground. You throw a few parting words over your shoulder with a small wave of your fingers.

“Thanks for the advice, Oikawa. I guess you aren’t as bad as I thought you were.”

Oikawa watches you go, a small, unsure smile on his features before it falls as he processes your words. You thought he was bad? Well that won’t do. He collects himself as he rushes off after you, determined to change your mind once and for all.

#oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyu x reader #oikawa tooru #I really need to figure out how to tag #maybe one day #maybe never

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tmp-jatp · 4 years

Text

Guys I just wrote my first fic.

I mean, I’ve written fics before, but never finished them. But I was struck by inspiration and I’ve been trying harder to write while the muse is there because you never know when she’ll leave and not come back. I’m so excited to share this with you.

You can read it on AO3 here (2479 words btw) or read it below. I’d love it if you checked it out :)

It was safe to say that Luke’s mind was near constantly full to the brim with music. As a songwriter, it was one of his favorite parts of himself. He had notebooks galore, all chock-full of half-written verses and melodies he hummed once in the shower and chord progressions he’d heard in a dream.

Usually, once he freed them from his mind via his pen, they were gone, saved in ink on the page. He would come back to them, to draw inspiration, to weave pieces together, to fashion them into full-fledged songs eventually.

There was always the one song that stuck around, though. It would never leave him, no matter how hard he tried.

He would hear pieces bouncing around between his ears. Sometimes it was a drum beat. Sometimes he heard snippets of words. Sometimes it was two voices, his and another always unrecognizable one, blending more beautifully than he would’ve thought possible as their two sounds danced together.

The Song had always been there, since before Luke could remember. At first there wasn’t much, just three notes that repeated over and over. One day, five more came to accompany them. As he had grown older, he’d learned what The Song meant.

Luke’s parents loved to sing their Song to one another, or they would sing it by themselves when they were alone to feel the other’s presence with them. It was a beautiful sound, and Luke loved hearing it. He asked his mom to sing their Song to him each night before bed for far more years than he would ever admit to Alex, Reggie, or Bobby.

When Luke tried to sing his parents’ Song, either by himself or with them, he’d found he never could. Even though he’d heard it a million times, his mind couldn’t recreate any part of it.

Luke would get frustrated and pout, but his mom would kneel down and smile at him.

“That’s because it isn’t your Song,” she’d told him. “Your father and I get to share this with each other and with other people, and it’s something that’s just ours. You have your own Song, and it’s just yours. One day you’ll find the person you get to share it with.”

Luke knew from middle school that he wanted to be a musician. He’d always been crafting songs, even while his own Song taunted him in its incompleteness.

When he’d gotten his first guitar for Christmas in seventh grade, another gift had come with it: more of The Song. He didn’t know which gift he valued more.

Luke learned how to play chords and arpeggios. He learned techniques while his hands learned the dexterity they needed. He developed muscle memory and honed an ability for transcribing music from his ears to his fingers.

The more he learned, the more his mind seemed to go wild with ideas at possibilities for songs. He started collecting notebooks. He always had one near or on his person with a pen also within reach. They filled haphazardly at the whims of Luke’s imagination.

Luke would play his ideas on his guitar and let them drift through his bedroom. They’d grow on their own and become more. It never felt like Luke was writing them, they just came to him.

His parents called it a gift.

When he wasn’t playing his songs, Luke was playing his Song. It burned into his mind. When he didn’t know where to go next with a piece, his fingers would always bring him back home.

The four boys started a band together. They met in Bobby’s garage and played their hearts out. Luke collected stray ideas all together to form and fill in coherent songs that they would play.

They sounded good.

The boys all knew about each other’s Songs by then. Reggie’s had a country twang to it that drove Luke crazy. He liked to play his Song’s chord progressions on his bass, but he was learning the banjo too to help him fill out the sound in his head. Alex was always humming his between reps and during set up and tear down, lost in his own world. It was soft and sweet, like a lullaby. When he got anxious, he would tap out rhythms and vocalize melodies to help calm himself down. Bobby’s Song was energetic and exciting, a sharp contrast to his shy self. He liked to play it on his electric before practices started and would always be finishing up just as the boys came into the garage, so they never heard much more than that which would seep out into the backyard.

None of them ever tried to replicate each other’s Songs. Songs were personal, they were intimate. Anyway, it wasn’t like they could recreate them, even if they tried.

Luke tried one night to transpose his Song to paper, but it never worked. His pen would hover above the sheet but never write anything at all. He tried to get something, anything, even just a word down, but it wouldn’t come out, determined to stay only inside his head. That was what Songs did.

They named their band Sunset Curve and started playing gigs. Other people liked their music, too.

Bobby became less shy when he was on stage, drawing energy from his Song to create a confidence that he would wear. Alex let out his anxiety on the drumset in a different way than how his Song would relieve his anxiety but which ended up helping just the same. Reggie wrote more country music in his free time. Sunset Curve never played it.

Luke grew older. His voice deepened and matured. One afternoon in the middle of practice, he stopped playing. The other three petered out once they noticed.

“Luke?” Alex asked from behind the set. “You okay?”

There was a voice singing his Song now. His voice was singing his Song.

“Yeah,” Luke smiled and assured. He didn’t explain what happened.

But after practice, he was humming again, a tune which complimented what they’d heard him play before. Reggie, Bobby, and Alex shared a grin while Luke wasn’t looking.

All four of them were in the music program at their high school. There were a lot of talented students in their class.

In junior year, there were a bunch of new freshmen who came up into the class. They showed a lot of promise. Sunset Curve became friends with a group of four of the freshmen. Their groups meshed well as eight, but they also all found a complement within themselves. Alex and Carrie liked to dance together. Reggie and Flynn explored new music genres and played pranks on the other six. Bobby and Nick became study partners. And Luke? Luke had Julie.

She was...well, she was Julie. She wasn’t afraid to be herself and wore it proudly, with her butterfly hair clips and dozen friendship bracelets and doodled shoes.

Reggie suggested that their group of eight should have a name. Flynn was unamused by Bobby’s suggestion of “Octuple Trouble”.

Luke wondered what the four freshmen’s Songs sounded like. He never asked. Songs were intimate, and lots of people were shy about other people hearing them. Songs revealed the deepest parts of your soul.

Luke knew that his soul was pure music and music alone.

Besides his parents and his brothers, no one ever heard Luke’s Song. No one else needed to hear his Song. It was his.

Julie, Carrie, and Flynn showed the boys how to make friendship bracelets. They explained how you made them for each other and then tied it on each other’s wrists so they would never come off as long as the friendship would last. Luke thought he would be embarrassed by wearing friendship bracelets and how it would clash with his style of jean chains and cutoff tees and metal rings, but somehow he wasn’t. They all eight hung out at Carrie’s house and tied bracelets for hours that night, with Star Wars playing in the background on the TV at Reggie and Nick’s requests. By the time they were finished, beads were in mis-matched piles on the ottomans and slivers of tape and string sprinkled the floor. It was one of the best nights of their lives.

Luke wore his bracelets proudly. They were dorky, but they were so them and Luke loved them. He had a purple and blue knotted pattern from Julie, and an orange and green one with beads that read B-I-C-E-P-S---M-C-G-E-E from Flynn.

Carrie made Alex something pink that Luke never saw closely. They’d spent the whole evening with her teaching him some fancy pattern of knots that would make a picture, so theirs matched one another’s.

Luke didn’t see what Bobby, Nick, or Reggie had made or for whom. He’d been too focused on his bracelet for Julie. He tried to channel all of his love for the friendship he’d found with her and with all eight of them into the strings, but his fingers that normally were so dextrous and able on the guitar couldn’t hold the strands with the right tension and it ended up a mess.

She loved it and wore it anyway.

Luke eventually had one bracelet from each person in Octuple Trouble and had given one to each person in turn.

Luke’s Song still plagued his mind day-in and day-out. Every day it felt it was more complete. He heard it all the way through now, but even still it wasn’t complete. There was always his guitar playing, but there was another instrument dueting his. Luke knew what the instrument was in his heart but he couldn’t name it when he tried. It was just...there. A sound that he knew better than any other but it was also different than anything he’d ever heard before. He heard his voice singing all the words, and he heard another voice, too, but it belonged to nobody. The other voice was the biggest mystery to him. It made him feel like he was home but like he didn’t know where home was.

A few months into junior year, Julie changed. She became more reserved and stopped playing in music class. Luke knew why. He didn’t know how he could help, though. He tried to just be there, and to make sure she knew he always would be.

Sunset Curve was gaining a reputation and playing more and more gigs.

Carrie started her own group, Dirty Candi. At some point she cut off all of her bracelets. Alex still went to all of their performances to support her.

Julie and Flynn stayed closer than ever before, but the rest of them...drifted.

A part of Luke fractured alongside their group. He was pretty sure a part of each of the rest of them did, too.

Senior year started and the eight of them felt practically like strangers once more. They were still all in music class, but it was different. It had been different for a long time. Nick and Bobby didn’t study together anymore. Alex and Carrie still hung out, but Reggie and Flynn hadn’t pranked anyone since November. Luke missed Julie.

Alex came to practice late one afternoon in September with wonder in his eyes and voice about a skateboarder he’d met.

“Well, he sort of ran into me...literally, and we both fell down. And I scraped up my hands pretty bad on the concrete trying to catch myself-” Alex showed them the bandaged heels of his palms “- and it stung, like, really bad. You know how I have that nervous habit where I hum my Song when I’m anxious? Yeah, okay, so I started to do that while he apologized and grabbed band-aids out of his pocket - I don’t know why he had band-aids, Reggie, probably because he gets scrapes pretty often too. But so I was humming my Song, and he started humming it too.”

Luke wondered what it felt like to hear your other half complete you.

A year after Julie changed back in junior year, she changed again. She came back. She played in class again and Luke was once again in awe of the power packed into this sophomore. He’d forgotten just how amazing she was. He didn’t know what had triggered this return, but he didn’t care. She was back.

Three weeks later, Luke was looking for Mrs. Harrison. He needed her to sign some form for him for his guidance counselor, something about graduation requirements. Luke hadn’t been paying attention.

He had his hand on the handle to the music room and was about to twist it open before he heard a sound from inside.

Three notes, repeated. Five notes. The whole sequence repeated once more.

Any thoughts of forms fell from his mind. Luke opened the door with a fervor he’d never experienced before. He rushed into the room but only made it two steps in before his shoes squeaked to a halt on the wooden floor.

Luke locked eyes with Julie. She sat behind the piano, in a black dress he’d never seen before.

The paper in his hand fluttered to the floor. Wordlessly, Luke crossed the room and picked up Mrs. Harrison’s acoustic guitar. He slipped the strap over his neck and faltered. What if he was wrong?

He took a deep breath and pushed his doubts down.

Luke turned around and saw Julie, who was watching him with a concerned curiosity.

No turning back. No regrets.

Luke’s hands started playing the first song he’d ever played. The song he’d played a billion times. It was etched into his dreams and it framed his every thought. Luke played his Song.

Julie’s eyes widened in recognition and her jaw dropped open.

Luke started singing and that seemed to spring Julie out of her stupor. Her fingers started moving across the keys in chords that accompanied his plucking.

She picked up the verse where he left off and Luke was hearing The Song for the first time. The other instrument that melded with his was the piano underneath Julie’s fingers. The other voice was hers.

Luke could see it in her eyes. She felt it, too.

Home.

It was exhilarating.

They filled the music room with their Song - no longer his, it was theirs - but the entire world was just them two. Nothing else existed but their music together.

Luke walked around the side of the piano while he played so he could be closer to Julie. He saw his god-awful friendship bracelet on her wrist while she played and smiled at the part of her that he carried on his, too.

That wasn’t the only part of her he’d been carrying, he realized.

Their Song.

Wow.

The two of them drew to a close, out of breath with amazement.

We create

A perfect harmony

They locked eyes. They were home.

@pink-flame @thedeathdeelers surprise you’re on my taglist

#i wrote a thing #i'm really proud of this one #soulmate au #it's fluffy #yay #juke #jatp fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fluff #mine #my writing #octuple trouble

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seostudios · 4 years

Text

middle of the night: all about luv - p.js

ALL ABOUT LUV ‣ MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

you just needed to pass your classes and you'd be out of this hellhole but of course you couldn't do it alone! it was a two man job with your lifestyle so the school assigned you to the one and only park jisung, clumsy straight a student who you may or may not have now taken a liking to....

pairing: park jisung x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.5k

info: rebel!reader, nerd!jisung, strangers to lovers!au, non-idol!au, high school!au

warnings: explicit/vulgar language, mentions of drugs, alcohol, little bit alcohol consumption

a/n: hey omg i can’t believe i finally posted a part to this series, i hope u guys enjoy it and PLEASE tell me if you want a taglist okay? thanks!

You were fierce, everyone knew. Even those who haven't even seen you and your tricks in-person feared when you attended school. Although you were known to play tricks, rough-house, and start problems with the other kids who didn't even bother attending school or pursue their actual desires- you had one and was determined to make it come true one way or another. But unfortunately, you were pretty dim compared to the students who roamed the hallways, it never stopped you, Today you decided on approaching your math teacher since she was surprisingly the only one who cheered you on with your aspirations,

"So...I'm passing three of my four courses this semester!?" You eagerly questioned the woman in front of you, "Yes, you are" confirmed with the recent grade updates, you sigh in relief knowing you were passing most of your classes with satisfying marks, so you made your way to the exit.

However, she pulled you back down to your seat. "You're failing Science Y/n," she added pointing at the 34, "Well I don't even know what's happening in there, how can I pass in such a short time?"

He stared out the window of the Science lab. He had plans after school, "Jisung? Park Jisung?" an unfamiliar teacher called from the door frame; his attention was mainly towards the girl behind her which sent shivers down his spine.

"Can you meet me in Room 284 after school?" Of course not, he's finally scored a fucking date with Lee Jieun one of the prettiest and popular girls of the junior division, he looked over to Jieun in the back of the class who was listening in on your conversation along with everybody else in the classroom, she looked disappointed but nodded permitting him to ditch their date, he smiled apologetically at the girl before focusing his attention to the door,

"Sure."

Knocks were heard from the door which made your busy teacher who was marking work signal you to go open the entrance to this quite cold classroom. Roughly around 5'11 probably 6'0 boy is wearing a worn-out white shirt, with a navy blue blazer, pants and a poorly tied tie. His attire was mandatory but his hair was unique, rocking pink-brown hair was not something you see every day unless they were idols. The sun shined passed the windows onto the boy making his rosewood hair turn into a more dark salmon colour. "Jisung!" Your Math teacher chirped to the boy pulling out a chair next to yours indicating you two to sit back down. She took a good two minutes out of your time to finish up on marking and organizing the sheets sprawled across the desk, you and Jisung just sat in silence. In all honestly, Jisung was shitting himself. You and the reputation you had here were most definitely the reason why. Shifting his position every ten seconds, the occasional glances to you, and bouncing his leg. Finally, she turned her attention to the pair in front of her, "So you two are probably really confused."she stated looking at Jisung, then you."Poor Y/n here, my favourite student-"She pauses looking at you with a smile and towards Jisung who looked confused on how,"which is surprising to the staff apparently which I have no idea how...she hasn't been...rebellious in a few weeks since she's trying to pass before the summer break."Clasping her hands together she looks up at you two, "Jisung I need you to tutor Y/n until she gets her final grade in." When I tell you his eyes widened enough for you to see the wrinkles on his forehead form, you did. You smiled accepting the help but it quickly seeing his distressed self, "Are you okay? Do you not want to tutor me?"You asked, and it was your first time ever speaking to the boy he never expected you to sound so soft and gentle; predicting beforehand that you had a rough deeper voice. His facial expression softens slightly at your hopeful gaze piercing through him- hoping he'd tutor you, cause frankly, you needed it more than anyone in your division at this point (Maybe you're being a little selfish but who cares.). Jisung was sitting in his seat, zoned out, probably processing all this. It took him a minute, but he finally looked up from fiddling with his fingers. "Oh Of course I will! I can do Wednesdays after school and Saturday around noon?"It was pretty shocking how confident he sounded ordering you around that second- which made the teacher grin at the shy boy's sudden dominance. Chuckling a little with a small smile plastered on your face you say "Works perfectly, I'll be leaving now. Bye Ms.," You said jolting up grabbing your backpack walking towards the door, but before you leave you gotta leave a nice impression on the boy plus its rude to not say goodbye isn't it.

"Goodbye Jisung Park."

It was Tuesday and Jisung was sitting in the Music room during lunch eating and catching up on his Health papers when you walked in. This was your usual spot in the late spring when you needed AC and a place to lay down. On a regular day for Jisung, he'd be in the front of the school on the bench working however it was too hot for him today so he opted to break into the already unlocked classroom to eat and study in. Sitting on top of the sink counter you lean to open a window pulling out a cigarette, you came here to smoke and it was a great place since it was deserted. "W-What are you doing?" Jisung asked looking up from his notebook sitting on the carpet. "Do I look like I'm about to jump out the window? no. I'm gonna smoke."You informed sarcastically on the boy. He was slightly taken aback you were so sweet yesterday and today your back with your bad girl reputation still strong. He threw you a quick look before getting up, putting his things in his bag, and throwing out the rest of his lunch. Now, walking towards you he takes the cigarette out your hand before you could even light it and threw it out the open window. "Hey! I wasn't done with that, and I didn't even start with it!" You raised your voice at him which did make him flinch but provoked him to argue back, "Yah! Your smoking is unhealthy and against school rules." He paused but started again, "You want to pass, don't you? I'm helping you pass, aren't I? Get your things together if you want my help Y/n."He spat. Honestly, you didn't think his words would affect you so much but it fueled the fire you started a minute ago. "Shut up Park, stop acting all tough when you know nothing about me, I never needed your help I was just going along with Ms." you argued back before grabbing your backpack and the lighter on the counter before hopping off pushing the tallboy to the side rudely, muttering something about bullshit.

"I was helping her! And she says you know nothing about me Park! like of course I don't butt why does she need to be an asshole when I'm trying to help her out." Jisung complains to Chenle in front of him. "Maybe she's like addicted," Chenle says trying to make the best out of the situation "Look, she'll warm up to you eventually cause you two will be spending lots of time together now." Jisung huffs in disbelief that Chenle is basically on your side here, getting up from the grassy field to join the rest of his gym class in soccer.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees a figure under the bleachers; you. He knows you are upset with him as much as he is with you but he still wants to encourage you to pass Science with his help. "Park! Get your ass over here!" Yedam, his classmate calls him to grab his things on the field before heading into the change rooms.

The school bell rang, you watched students walk out of their classrooms to their lockers, friends, lovers. You were leaning against the wall beside the empty Music room contemplating if you should leave and hang out with some friends by Unjeong Lake Park or stay in with Park Jisung to study for Science. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a voice, "Hey." Jisung stood in front of you, backpack resting on one shoulder and a Science textbook in his hand. "Hi," It was awkward being around him after you little tilt.

"Let's go," You trailed behind Jisung watching him take you to an unfamiliar part of the school, the West End. "Why are we here?" You question the pink-haired boy, but all you get in return is silence. At last, he brought you two to the old gym, it hasn't been used in almost 6 years but somehow it looks squeaky clean. "This is my hangout spot after school, I kind of made my friends go down to Unjeong for the day so we could study here until I find a proper place." He explains to you placing his books and bag on the stacked mats, offering to take your bag too, you let him. "So what Unit is your class working on now?" He asked you once the two of you sat on one of the many beanbags in the gym (Probably brought in from his pals), "Well my mom made me take Biology I and I know you are in my class I just don't show up..." You lean back on the beanbag playing with the lighter in your hands "What are we learning Park?" He visibly gulps at you doesn't even know why he's nervous himself, maybe because your scary? Probably.

"Well we're on our last unit of the year and the Unit test and Final Exam are what can get you to pass the class with at least a 60," He said moving to grab his textbook flipping to a page with sticky notes plastered all over. "We are in Unit 5, Plants: Anatomy, Growth, and Function. It's an easy Unit so we could go through it in two months then spend the two weeks before the final exam prep." Jisung finished speaking and handed you the textbook that was on the Unit page, it didn't look hard but you knew better to judge a book by its cover. "Alright, where do we start." You smile at the grinning boy who's suddenly amused by your aspiration to pass the course.

It's 2:45 and you are in the middle of the last period, Science. It was your last day of the Science of the year, technically. You still had to prep for your final exam, but this was the final unit test which meant for the next month you'd be stuck in a silent classroom with your peers all silently studying over and writing recap notes for the final exam. You finish writing the date on your page and adding a little smiley face at the end of your name, flipping your paper over you take out your earbuds, and play music to pass time.

Good, 15 minutes have passed, and you see students getting up to hand in their papers, this where you tag along and hand it in too. Patting the eraser ends on your skirt off you make it back to your desk sitting then turning to look behind you, a few desks down to a now chocolate haired boy. He was finishing up his test when he looked up to see you basically ogling at him. Throwing you an awkward half-assed smile he looks back to the girl behind him, Jieun.

Jieun and Jisung took a very bad turn once Jisung agreed on tutoring you. She's ghosted the boy and took a liking to her lab partner, Taehyun. It was disappointing to see a girl get jealous over her date tutoring a very incompetent girl like you. If you were in her position, you might've gotten scared but wouldn't drop the kid; it was rude, and honestly, you were glad Jisung accepted that fate and moved on from her. He played with the end of his test sheet before sighing thumping his head against the desk, okay maybe he wasn't that over her yet but he's doing better than you ever would. Over these four months you and Jisung surprisingly got along well, you've opted to occupy a booth int he back of your town's ice cream parlor for studying instead of that abandoned gym in the West End.

In all honesty, you felt bad about how you treated the tall boy in the first few weeks of tutoring. You showed up late which strung the classes longer making one hour, two. You complained, never listened, argued, actually punched him once. But after warming up to him you've started to take a liking, noticing his features a little more than you did last week, finding his beauty mark under his lip stunning. Nowadays he seems ten times more charming, appealing, engaging, and irresistible to you, memorizing his favourite things how he looks up to Kai, the teacher assistant for the seniors. And that he actually hates Science and prefers Gym and Sociology class. He likes all kinds of ice cream and tries new flavors every visit, he never writes with a red-inked pen since he prefers the black one and always lets you know that too ("Y/n did you know red ink stains are a nasty stain to get out, always use black ink."). You aren't the only one who's learned to love the newly blossomed friendship as he's learned as much as you about him, on how you've always wanted to become a Veterinarian, that your love for animals is just unexplainable and the only things holding you down is this horrible reputation you've built yourself over the two years of attending. But better late than ever to change your ways and Jisung was absolutely mesmerized by your determination to achieve the new milestones you've set for yourself.

"PARK JISUNG!" You shrieked barging into the empty ice cream parlor to see the boy sitting idling on his device, he looks up at you running towards your booth. "Hey, shhh", he quiets your overly excited self-telling you to sit."I got my Unit Test mark," you stop talking to take your backpack off and pull out your Unit Test which was graded and with a big fat A on it. "Holy shit! Y/n this is amazing!!"He exclaimed eyes going wide seeing the mark, his hard work really did pay off.

"Now we can start prepping for Finals," Jisung told you after handing your papers back, your shoulders sagged and your smile disappeared, you were hoping to possibly celebrate with your tutor and newfound friend. Shaking your head, you look at him again, "No sorry, I wanna celebrate this tonight," you inform Jisung who looks at you with a somewhat annoyed expression. "Sorry Y/n but one A isn't going to help you get to a passing mark, you need more than that and the only thing that'll help you pass Biology is your Final Exam which is what we need to prep for." What the fuck? Jisung Park, the golden student, and who you thought was your friend basically telling you that your grade wasn't worth all that cheering two minutes ago. That was unbelievable what type of asshole does that, oh wait apparently Jisung Park. You knew you weren't gonna pass with one test, of course not. You might've been dumb but not to that extent, you clench your fists wondering how all that admiration you had for someone just got poured down a drain so quickly. You chuckle heartlessly ' that thought lingered before you look at him and speak.

"Yea of course I know that but do you not understand how big of a milestone this was for me? I am one step behind passing my hardest subject of the semester and you telling me that it's not enough and we need to prepare for a final at the end of a month that has just started is fucking rude Park."You hiss at him now baffled on how he couldn't comprehend after four- almost five months of knowing you. Getting up you grab your backpack and phone and turn to exit the ice-cream parlor.

You were now outside of the small store, and Jisung didn't even come after you. Sighing knowing you should've known associating yourself with someone with a better reputation wouldn't have been smart. Pulling your phone out, you dial in a friend who you knew would be there for you and who had more free time than most students his age. "Jeno," You stammered through the phone "Y/n? Are you okay?" You smile weakly at his concern, not even a minute into a call."Can you pick me up?" you asked quietly to the older boy. Looking through the big glass window to the back of the shop, you see Jisung sitting there watching you intently, and he knows he hurt you. It wasn't his intent to; he just wanted you to reach your goals and he thought celebrating could've been done another time instead not today, I guess he hit a soft spot seeing your facial expression so fragile.

He saw a motorcycle pull up beside you and a muscular guy go and place a helmet on your head after holding you in his embrace for a moment before the two of you hopping back on the ride driving off to god knows where.

You kick around an empty pop can on the sidewalk waiting for your ride. Jeno knew something upsetting you over the phone so he decided not to question it and get you riled up but to drink a couple of beers and play darts at his crib. A Black 2018 Kawasaki Ninja pulls up in front of you, the driver removes his helmet revealed to be your dear friend, Jeno. He felt your gloomy aura already deciding to just embrace you tightly, "Whatever it is, you did amazing." He assured you before breaking the hug to plop the helmet on you and hopping back on with you behind him seated.

"Great job Y/n, I can see you making it through the year, I just finished putting in your final mark 89 is an amazing score and all on your own is shocking." Your Science teacher complimented you after holding you back to show your improvement to you, Jeno encouraged you to still study hard solo after acknowledging that you didn't want to work with Jisung anymore, hard work did pay off now your officially finished with your junior year and with flawless grades. "Have a great summer break," You tell her before walking out for lunch. Last day of school before the summer break, it's been a crazy weird year but you don't seem to be upset. Jisung seemed happy without you anyways, you've been skipping Music to sit out on the bleachers while he had gym class, and made sure to visit the West End more often. You didn't realize it yet but Jisung looking happy stung more than it should've.

Fuck that bullshit Y/n is on, Jisung is miserable without her. He didn't take note of it but he was more than happy to spend his Wednesdays and Saturdays with you. He liked the way your eyes widened or how your jaw almost touched the floor when he teaches you something new, or when your eyed shimmered when your grades went up every quiz. How your nose scrunched up at a difficult question, the way you organized his pencil case when he wasn't looking because 'it had to be cute like him'. He was too much of a coward to keep you by his side, it's safe to say Jisung Park likes you back. Head over heels in love with you probably, but we shouldn't stretch it that far knowing he's working his ass off to get over you, and of his mind but when does he even succeed. It's the last day of school and possibly the last time Jisung gets to see you roam the halls, watch him in Gym class fooling around with his friends, or just see you until the next school year. No, Jisung made it his goal to win you back. He's never seen you that way, never thought he'd need you, all he wants is to see you, hold you.

"No Park. She's not even here kid," Your friend, Yuna told Jisung who was at your doorstep asking for you. "Just, just tell her to text me." He said frustrated now leaving.

"I thought you said he didn't want anything to do with you?" Jeno asked sitting on the couch of Yuna's living room beside you. "He doesn't, I don't know why-" Yuna was quick to argue with you, "He likes you and you left." Jeno nods agreeing, "I see that happening..." He half-joked. "Listen I know he was a jerk in May, but it's June- July tomorrow! He's not being a jerk right now because what freaking jerk comes to your doorstep BEGGING to talk to you?" Yuna ranted.

You know he's not a jerk and he meant no harm that day but it hurt. Everyone always sugarcoated things with you so when Jisung was pretty blunt with you, it stung. You whine at all this thinking about Jisung and feelings, plus even if he did like you, there was so much to unravel than just some lame highschooler who wanted to get her shit together. So so much more than just that. Drinking the rest of the alcohol in your plastic cup you sit up straight staring at the two in front of you who were dying to hear your say in this, "Okay so what if we have our happy ending, what'll happen then? He'll figure out how toxic I am and go running back to Jiwoo or whatever name is."Stopping and using a couch pillow to cover your face- did you seriously imagine yourself with a happy ending, you've fucked up so much that it seems impossible to turn back. Yuna notices your heartache and decided to tone down on his jokes and talk to you 'for realsies',"Sweetheart if he leaves you because your teeny issues were too overwhelming for him it's not worth it but from his recent actions it looks like he'd want to be there with you through those issues. Honestly, he could live a little too so dealing with you- and giving me and Jeno here a break should be thrilling."Adding a light-hearted joke was what you needed to place a soft smile on your lips.

“Now go get your man” Jeno says slapping your back playfully encouraging you to leave the house and venture off to him- wherever he is.

"Can I help you?" A boy wearing Yonsei University sweatshirt asked you. 'This must be Jisung's older brother he told me about' You thought to yourself, "Oh Yes, is Jisung home?" You ask him looking up trying to look as innocent as you can. "Oh you just missed him, he went to get ice cream with his friends," he said. Shouting a quick thanks you run down to the only ice cream parlor Jisung probably knows in town.

CLOSED is all you see in front of the ice cream parlor. Did Jisung's older brother lie to me? Now that you think of it, he and his brother aren't close enough to share those type of things from what you heard, and what type of boy would avoid the girl he supposedly likes. You sit down on the curb looking off into the little soccer field, watching kids play with their friends thinking, then it hit you. Did Jisung lie to his older brother? C'mon Y/n think of the one place Jisung and his friends could be...The park? Nah, too crowded. The mall? No, too far. Think Think Think, one place. Where in the world could Jisung- WEST END! God, why didn't you think of that in the beginning, of course, he's there. Getting up off the curb you make your way quickly to the back of the school, remembering Jisung telling you a back entrance to the West End.

Reaching the back entrance you see it open indicating someone (Jisung and friends) was inside. Maybe you shouldn't barge in and ruin their fun...opting to send Jisung a text you search your pockets to find, nothing. How could you leave your house without your phone? You're like addicted to it. "Excuse me?" A deep voice booms behind you, turning around you look up at the man. It's Jaehyun, the volleyball team captain. "Y/n." You know him, through Jisung, of course, why else would he be at the West End or know your name. "Hi," your breath rather softly which throws the older boy way off since he knows you for your snarky remarks or overly confident aura...Today you seem the opposite really. "Can you tell Jisung to come out for a second?" you ask avoiding eye contact and resorting to looking at the chalked up pavement. He gives you a thumbs up and heads in.

"Park Jisung-ah!" Jaehyun shouts for Jisung loud enough for it to echo in the empty gym. Looking up and seeing Jaehyun, Jisung excuses himself from his current conversation with Doyoung, Yuta, and Renjun to jog over to his Hyung. "Your chick is here," He says pointing out the door to you, Jisung's eyes lit up already knowing who Jaehyun was talking about peeking his head out the door to see you looking off into the parking lot, watching the sunset. He was pulled right back in by Jaehyun, "You better fix whatever's been going on between you, Y/n looks like an actual school girl being all shy and soft. I'm actually disgusted I need that spunky girl back before I force you two to kiss or some shit," Really Jaehyun? Some advice you got there.

"Alright kid go get your chick" Jaehyun cheered before pushing him and closing the door loud enough to alert and make you turn back.

It felt like a dream, none of this felt real. It hasn't even bee 24 hours since you last saw Jisung, but it's been a month of not interacting to get your heart racing this much. You looked unreal to Jisung, out of a fairytale actually and he looked amazing, like always. This is when he started to panic, you smiled weakly and started walking up to him. He looked down at his shoes not having the balls to look you in the eye, "Jisung look at me you pussy." You said so calmly but so rudely(?). It was funny and made Jisung giggle which made you short circuit.

Jisung looks up from his feet to see you staring into his brown eyes, taking in all his features again looking at him from head to toe; how fluffy his dark coffee bean hair was or his cheeks- god you always took the chance to pinch them when you could. His broad shoulders you always wondered how his hugs would be, probably so comfy and perfect. The beauty mark under his lip, fuck always wanted to kiss it. Your thoughts were disrupted when you felt two large hands enclose you in a tight hug; reacting almost immediately you wrap your small hands around his waist and rest your head on his chest while he brings his large hand to caress the back of your head. "I'm sorry, I know what I said was wrong and I shouldn't have made you seem so slow-witted when you totally aren't. I think over that conversation almost every night. I'm so so sorry Y/n," He finishes tightening the hug for a moment sympathetically.

You loosen the hug and tippy-toe up to the boy placing a small peck on his pink lips which caused his cheeks to go crimson. "You're forgiven, Park," you say giving him a tight smile. You see the tall boy pout a little and turn his reddened face to the side before mumbling "I was supposed to do that," which caused a fit of giggles from you.

"You'll have plenty of opportunities in the future Jisung."

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peachyteabuck · 5 years

Text

study buddy, part v

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: one restaurant date, two confessions, and three grades that will make or break natasha’s degree

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,881

trigger warnings: overstimulation, use of a safe word, teeth rotting fluff, strap on sex, ball gags, explicit conversations about whorephobia, orgasm control, angst if you squint

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two, part three, part four

The warmth of the sun filtered through blinds is what woke you, wrapped tight in Natasha’s arms. The sex-stained blankets were as messy as can be, some of them hugged your intertwined bodies like a tightly wrapped burrito while others were nearly falling off the bed.

It was messy, beautifully and wonderfully so. If you felt the need to move (which, of course you didn’t because who in their right mind would try to disentangle themselves from such a lovely human person) you doubt you could’ve; Natasha held you with arms too strong and heart beat too soft. You wouldn’t dare disturb her if the house was on fire; then again, if the world was burning down around you – you’d rather die in her arms than reach for uncertain safety. It’s there that you fell back into sleep, tucked under her chin and running your fingers through her hair.

Eventually the growling of your stomachs woke the both of you up, each respective organ desperate for nourishment – and the two hard-boiled eggs, sour gummy worms, gluten-free bread, and half a container of mustard wasn’t gonna cut it. The waning sun was an ominous sign of how long you’d truly gone without food, and you soon didn’t feel all that bad about poking your poor g-

Poking poor Natasha awake.

You didn’t feel all that bad poking Natasha awake as your insides beg for sustenance and your head feels light and holy shit, if you didn’t eat right then you were going to start taking bites out of her – and, for the first time, not in a fun and/or sexy way.

“Hey,” you pressed your forefinger to her nose. “Nat.” You poked the end of each eyebrow, then at various locations of her forehead. “Natasha!” Still, she remained asleep, and buried herself further into the blankets as some unconscious act of survival. “Nat.” You poked her right cheek. “Naat.” You poked her left cheek. “Naaat.” You poked each cheek with each hand at its softest part, pushing until you felt her teeth. “Nat wake uuup.”

She just grunted and pushed you away before she nuzzled back into the covers. “Go away. I want to die here. Let me become a body without organs.”

She paused.

“Or is it organs without bodies?”

You sighed but make no move to displace her. “One, Natasha, we have the midterm coming out soon. If you do not know the original work done by two far left authors from the sarcastic critique by another far left author, I’m breaking up with you. Two, that’s not what that means and you making a vague reference to some postmodern concept does not mean I am going to stop being annoying. Three, would you like to come get dinner with me?”

Natasha shot up, flame-red hair messy and shirt disheveled – it made her look like the top of of a thicket of trees during a forest fire. Along the side of her face, you could see indentations from where her skin was pressed to the pillowcase. “Food?”

You nodded, pushing the strands from her eyes. “Yes, darling, food.”

She wiped at her face and pushed the covers from her legs, eyes half-closed. “Food.”

You picked some of the crust from the corner of her eyes. She blinked indignantly at you but made no move to stop you. “Do you care where we go?”

Natasha shook her head left-to-right silently, then moved to wipe her face once more.

“Okay. There is a very good Chinese place that I want to show you. Is that okay with you?”

Natasha nodded and made a mmhmm noise.

“Cool.”

You kissed the tip of her nose before you got up and scrounged together a passable outfit that would cover the bruises that still littered your body and shield you from the cold. After a few moments, Natasha opened her eyes wide enough to see a few feet in front of her and did the same.

There was s a wonderful silence that filled the air, the comfortable kind. Like the day of that quiz, it’s a wonderful kind of cozy – soothing and sweet.

You could get used to this…

It was a short walk to the restaurant, one you were all-too familiar with due to your many, many nights there. It was the first place you ate at on campus (that wasn’t one of the mind-numbingly mediocre cafeterias) the day you moved in and it had become some pseudo-home, the place always warm and waitstaff always nice (and always willing to let you eat as much as you pay for and abuse their free WiFi).

The menu hadn’t changed much (by “much,” you mean they’ve fixed two of the five typos) since you first started going there, so you should have already known what you want. Still, you opened the folded, laminated paper and read each item with genuine interest, just as Natasha did.

You looked up at her once and awhile just to see her again. Every time you tried to keep her out of your line or sight for more than a few seconds you’d almost burst at the seams, like a sunburst than could only be quelled by looking at her.

“What year are you?” Natasha asked, which broke your unbelievably tender train of thought.

Your brain, which was still very fried, did not compute. “What?”

She reached over to point to the Chinese zodiac calendar on your menu with one of many of her fingers that was inside you last night. “What year are you?”

You mumbled something and shrugged, fake-intense-reading as your neurons attempted to rebuild your capacity for speech. Luckily, Natasha seemed determined to continue the conversation.

“I’m the year of the dog,” she said, nonchalant, as if you were not losing your goddamn mind on the other side of the table. Your brain was fried, your mouth was gaping like a fish out of water, and were your hands shaking? What the fuck were you supposed to say? How should you respond?

Think, you fool! Think!

“There’s a feminist critical theorist who fucks her dog,” you blurted.

Natasha just smiled – god her smile was so big and wide and beautiful - and laughed. “Part of me thinks you’re lying, but part of me worries you’re telling the truth.”

You laughed then, too, smiling big as she did. It set the tone for the rest of the night, mood light and happy as the tired, probably-high waitress took your order and then brought you the food a suspiciously-short amount of time later. It was good, very good.

“And my mom turns to me and she goes,” you wrinkled your noise in an effort to properly invoke your mother’s nasally tone. “This family does not get Fs or Ds or Cs. You better fix this or else.”

Natasha almost choked on her soft drink at your impression. “You were supposed to make an omelet for a foods and nutrition class, what did she want you to do!?”

You took another bite of orange chicken before you rolled your eyes and shrugged. “I have no idea what that woman wants from me now, let alone when I was fuckin’ fourteen.”

You were both laughing as you took food from each other’s plates and swapped small stories. Natasha told you about her own coding mishaps (apparently it was easy to hack into news websites and create fake stories involving certain celebrities and a certain large bird and many, if not too many, phallic objects), you told her about the time you stress-cried in the bathroom so much the janitor kept tissues in a secret compartment for you.

One hand from each of you remained occupied as you held hands on the side of the table farthest from the prying eyes of fellow college students (as if any of them were sober enough to notice, though. Along with being great to you, the restaurant’s very greasy menu meant it was a good spot to quench munchies or quell the pain of an especially bad hangover).

A phone – your phone, you realized – vibrated obnoxiously on the other side of the table. Previously forgotten, you broke from the moment to reengage with the (seemingly) hundreds of people who were attempting reach you via text. At first you thought it’s an email from a client – but then you realized it was a text from a classmate. Specifically, the girl who sat front and center in the lecture hall you and Natasha shared.

“Who’s that?” Natasha asked.

You furrowed your brows as you texted, swallowing the last bit of food. “Oh, Lindsay from our class. She wants to know what I got on the quiz.”

Natasha then realized she never bothered to figure out her grade, and it brought all her anxiety about graduating on time and also making sure you’d never leave her and oh my god what if she failed this fucking quiz?

A few moments of soul-crushing silence passed before you put your phone back down. Natasha watched you like a cat stalking a fake mouse on a string, or a drunk mom at a Christmas party eyeing a dessert table; the drive was genuine, but the goal? Ridiculous. Absolutely, totally ridiculous.

You didn’t press her like she expected, though, didn’t even stare at her with that evil eye Natasha’s sure you got from your mother on more than one occasion. You just went back to eating your food, and put your phone back out of reach.

You noticed her staring at you when you went to borrow (steal) another piece of food from her plate.

“What?”

Natasha furrowed her brow. “Don’t you…Don’t you want to know what I got on the quiz?”

You shook your head as you stole another few bites worth of food. “Not unless you want to tell me.” You shrugged as you swallowed. “I’m not gonna, like, push you if you don’t want to tell me. I’m not my mother.”

Natasha smiled at that and left the conversation there. She was unnaturally quiet for the new few minutes as she listened intently while you told more stories and commented on the food and thought out loud about school and the rest of your life and should you go shopping soon?

Throughout all of it, Natasha remained incommunicative – to the point you started to worry.

“Are you okay?” you asked and reached across the table to put your hand over hers. She smiled, softly, before she replied.

“I really care about you, you know,” she said, low and almost inaudible. You said nothing in return. “And I’m very bad at this. I’m so bad at this. I spent a lot of my childhood in rooms with therapists who said less than I did. I’m not good at,” she waved her hands as she tried to find the right words. “I’m not great at emotions. And expressing them and telling people about them and all that shit. Okay?”

You swallowed the last tastes of duck sauce that coated your back teeth. Despite the sweet substance being a liquid, it felt like a waterfall of boulders cascading inside your throat. “Nat, I-“

“This isn’t me saying I love you, but I want…” Natasha was on the verge of crying, just as you were. She averted your gaze as she continues, staring at the booth cushion directly behind you. “I want to commit to you in some way. I like you, I like the person I am when I’m around you. And I don’t want to lose you because I was too much of a pussy to make a move.”

You said nothing, did nothing. Despite her not looking at you, you stared at her very serious facial expression and watched every muscle twitch for some signs of lying. You saw none.

“I…,” Natasha met your eyes as you spoke. Your mouth was so dry you nearly coughed – but the idea of making any sound terrified you. “I…I need some air.”

You didn’t wait for a reply as you pushed yourself out of the booth and ran out the front entrance.

Natasha didn’t wait for the door to close behind you before she chased after you. She left both of your phones and wallet at the booth, not wanting you to get out of eyeshot but also terrified of the waitstaff thinking the both of you were dine-and-dashers (and terrible ones, at that).

She followed you outside, ache in her heart an excellent distraction from the nighttime chill that dug tiny knives into her pale skin. Still, as her breath was visible in a faint fog in front her, no pain was as unimaginable as the one as losing you.

“Babe, plea-“ began, voice small and nonthreatening as possible.

You interrupted her and avoided looking into her eyes and picked at a loose thread in the sweater you were wearing – Natasha’s sweater you were wearing.

You worried it was the last time you’d ever see her again, and yet you refused to look at her. You refuse dto look at her large eyes and the bags under them, at her nimble hands – thin and agile from years of typing; at her plush lips or beautiful hair or-

Wasn’t that the cruelest irony of all? Of the cognitive dissonant fear of missing something while desperately avoiding looking at it. Still, you chose to jump off the proverbial cliff with your eyes clenched shut and nails digging into the pads of your soft palms and blood rushing in your ears louder than anything you’d ever heard in your life.

“I’m a sex worker.”

Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed and she breathed heavily, like when your mom got mad at you for bringing home that C your freshman year. “There’s-“

“I’m a sex worker. I make my own porn. I sell my nudes. It’s my main,” you sighed. “It’s my only source of income. It’s how I make money. It is how I will continue to make money. It’s how I stay mostly-independent from my very judgmental mother. It’s how I plan on staying mostly-independent from my very judgmental mother and my very judgmental family and the very judgmental world. And if you think that’s morally wrong of whatever, or that I’m some sort of sub-human, or that I’m evil, or that I should stop…”

For the first time that night, you looked her straight in the eyes. No smiling, no laughing, no wishing to see her beautiful face. Power. Authority. Truth. You tried to channel the red you saw on all those feminist theory books you’d had to read for the class that brought you and Natasha together.

“If you don’t believe in the validity of my labor I cannot and will not date you,” you were snarling as you stomped toward her until your toes nearly touched. “I’m not going to let someone who can’t love what I do love me.”

As you stood there, teeth bared and hands balled into fists, stories of rage flashed like lightning in your brain. Narratives of horror from your media studies class, of actresses whose only chance to scream was in front of a camera. If you had sharper nails, sharper teeth, glowing eyes that would be some award-winning monologue where people clap and call it “mind-blowing” and give it “five out of five stars.” You’d be a prime example of how satisfying rage can be as a subversive practice.

But no. You were no antihero(ine), no supernatural being caught on tape. You were not on the silver screen, you were not being streamed on some overpriced platform, you were not the subject of dissertations on media studies or really good articles on feminism or whatever else academics were doing with their time in tenure. You had filed-down nails and wide eyes and soft skin and an uneasy stomach and shaking hands and breath that faintly showed in the air when you exhaled. You had tears that threatened to fall. You had fear.

Natasha’s eyes flitted nervously, her lip between her teeth. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Natasha was the one to speak first. Her voice sounded as terrified as you felt – with words that were spat through a set jaw and teeth bared.

“Who hurt you?”

You took a half-step back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Natasha, what the fuck are y-“

“Who hurt you?” she whispered, words like knives and eyes just as dangerous. You stepped back, almost scared of her and what she could do to you.

You were pressed against the side of the building then – you could feel the brick and mortar itching at the skin of your back through your top. “Natasha what the hell are you talking about? I don’t kn-“

“Yes,” she stepped back, but grasped at your left hand as she did so. She was a ship tethering to a dock, floating out on the water but always willing to come back to port. “Yes, you do. You know exactly who, what, I’m talking about. What they did. Just tell me who they are, and I’ll ruin their lives.”

You looked for the joke, the punchline. You looked for a glint in her eye that said she was fucking with you and was waiting for you to laugh it off. When you were in seventh grade you got asked out as a joke and the football player made the exact same facial expression you now hunt for.

But you found nothing, no teasing or set up in a larger scheme to mock you. She was serious as you’d ever seen anyone be. “What in the fuck-“

“Tell me who they are. Tell me the name of every person who ever made you feel like shit and I’ll ruin their lives. I’ll steal their identity. I’ll make it so they can never get a job, or a car, or a house again. I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Natasha let go of your hand and held your face in her food-warm palms. “I will destroy the very existence of every person who ever made you feel like this, because you deserve someone who will protect you from all that bullshit. And I want to be that person.”

The silence was painful, almost. But also comforting. Still, you broke it so speak. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Natasha smiled, and pecked your lips. “Good. Now come finish my food with me, it’s getting cold and our waitress is definitely judging us.”

You broke into a fit of laughter, nearly wheezing as she guided you back inside. The food was good, even though it had cooled considerably while you were both outside – greasy and thick with flavor and hot in your mouth along with your soul and Natasha held your hand on the table and fed you with her fork and you stole bits of her food while she was distracted. At one point, Lizzo played on the restaurant soundtrack and Natasha sung low with you, and you ordered more food to take home and it was hot, too hot in your hands as you carried the large brown paper bag soaked with grease to her apartment. Maybe you were going eat the food in the morning, maybe you were going eat it later tonight. It, truly, did not really matter.

There wasn’t much time between when you put the leftovers in the fridge and when Natasha pushed you onto your knees in her (and your) (it was now shared) bedroom. There also wasn’t much time between when your knees hit the ground and when Natasha grabbed the ball gag from its place in her toy drawer.

“I’m so happy you’re mine,” Natasha cooed as she adjusted the matte black straps. She kissed at your temples when it was secured, murmuring sweet words into the top of your hairline. If there was anyone else watching you, if there were some voyeur witnessing this profession of ownership, you doubt they could hear her. The entire world could be gazing at the two of you under a microscope and they would know nothing. Wasn’t it something wonderful, to share such, dare you say it, love that cannot, will not be observed by a single being outside your pairing? “Such a pretty little thing, a beautiful little toy for me.”

You didn’t dare move, worried even a flinch would disappoint her. Even as spit began to fall down your chin and between your breasts, as it pools in the gap between your legs, you successfully resist the urge to wipe it away. Natasha walks to the end of the bed, perching herself on the covers. The silence isn’t thick or uncomfortable, rather something closer to electric, something you can feel on the insides of your nose as you sniffled.

Slowly, she raised her right hand and crooked her first finger. You understood immediately and you got on your hands and knees to crawl across the room to her. When you reached the end of the bed you waited, obediently, for her.

Like at the restaurant – you were nearly bursting out of your skin with excitement as you awaited instruction.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” she cooed. “Now come up on the bed and let me wreck that pussy.”

You do as you’re told without hesitation, scrambling to get on the bed and onto your back. Natasha grabbed a bottle of lube out of seemingly nowhere and poured it over the same strap from the first time she fucked you.

You moaned deeply and reached for something, anything; you whined high in your throat as she pounded into you, the bed smacking against the stained wall with each thrust.

“You’re too pretty for your own good, you know,” her voice was breathless as she spoke. “Normally I would try to keep my toys intact, try to keep them in good condition, but I just can’t seem to help myself around you.”

With each word your back arched farther, your fingers tightened around the sheets.

“F-fuck,” you moaned around the thick plastic sphere in your mouth as you tried to push your back closer to Natasha’s chest.

She grabbed your hair and bit at the curve of your ear before she spoke in a low voice that sent another wave a slick down your inner thighs. “What do you belong to?” she hisses. “Who does this pussy,” she slapped your cunt and you cried out at the stinging pain. “belong to?”

You didn’t hesitate. “You Mommy, I belong to you!”

In that moment, you wondered whether Natasha’s neighbors could hear your screams. But in the one right after, you realized you really, truly, di not give a single flying fuck what they could hear.

“Fuck yes, you’re mine,” she growled as she pressed your face into the sheets, as she loomed over you like a god would punish some human exercising an unholy level of hubris. “Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You couldn’t speak because of the ball gag – didn’t even try to – yet Natasha seemed to know exactly what you wanted to say.

“You wanna cum, love?” she cooed, still fucking into you. “You wanna cum over Mommy’s cock?”

You nodded, the whines high in your throat resembed something close to a please yes please Mommy please I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum.

Just like the lube, Natasha grabbed the hitachi out of thin air before she turned it on low and pressed it to your neglected clit. It was something, it was enough, but only just so. Your muscle tensed and you wailed out as you bucked your hips, as you tried to fuck yourself harder onto the toy. Natasha notices and slows her thrusts, laughing as you become more and more desperate.

“You’re so pathetic,” she hissed. “Such a pathetic little toy. You’ll do anything to cum, won’t you?”

You nodded; words garbled.

Natasha laughed again. “Of course you would, slut. You’d do anything for me, right? You’d do anything I told you to? You’re just a mindless little toy for me, just a dumb little thing with no thoughts besides how you can please me…”

You were drooling around your gag so much it covered your cheeks and pooled on each side.

You’re blissed out, eyes glazed over and body wonderfully lax. Natasha’s isn’t done with you yet, though, because of course she isn’t. You’re now officially her girlfriend, officially hers, and maybe it’s that satisfaction or excitement or whatever in her blood but it it’s letting her stop, not now, not when you look so ethereal with a halo of sweaty hair and the sheets looking like wings and your skin practically glowing.

Not just any angel, her angel – her perfect little blessed creature, sanctified even as she degrades you in such a sacrilegious way.

“I want you to cum when I count to ten,” Natasha murmured as she pushed the sweaty hairs that had escaped their confines from your eyes. “Alright, baby?”

You nodded and tried to chase the fleeting feeling of her fingers as they dusted over your feverish skin.

She turned the Hitachi up a setting, smiling as it met your clit and you cried out.

“One,” she mumbled, rubbing the head against you in small circles. It was something, but certainly not enough.

“Two.”

Natasha knew this. She knew you didn’t orgasm all that easily.

“Three.”

Regardless, she agonizingly slowly turned the toy up a setting. Just as you feared, it remained insufficient.

“Four.”

God, nearly halfway there and you were terrified what would happen if you couldn’t cum. Part of it was exhilarating, but part of it gnawed a small hole in your stomach that left you…empty, somehow.

“Five.”

She ticked it up one, two more settings. You sighed in relief and moved your hips with what little mobility she’d allowed you.

“Six.”

She increased the vibrations again and reveled in your squeals.

“Seven.”

You cried out and wanted to beg for mercy.

“Eight.”

You didn’t.

“Nine.”

You felt like you’d forgotten how to breathe, lungs shriveled up into nothingness. It was as if you could feel each of your cells as they begged for oxygen, as your blood desperately tried to each your heart and brain.

“Ten.”

You came with a deafening scream, your whole body shaking for what feels like forever.

When you came down, your girlfriend was next to the bed, holding what you could only is another section of rope. What she planned to do with it, you had zero idea.

“How ya doin’, baby?” She asks. Natasha could sense something was off, but worried about misreading the signs.

It’s obvious she was not incorrect, though, when you tapped at your thigh three times.

Immediately, Natasha drops the toys in her hands and rushes over – untying the gag and freeing your limbs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She scanned your body – terrified of finding blood or something worse. “What do you need?”

You swallowed what little spit you could find, your voice hoarse as you spoke. “Red,” a pause as you attempted to swallow once more. “Water.”

It was all Natasha needed before she was rushing off to the fridge to grab a chilled bottle of the stuff and one of those reusable straws she stole from your apartment.

When she returned to the room she pulled you into her lap, keeping you upright as she leaned against the wall.

Natasha watched every muscle, every twitch as you drank from the straw. Your body seemed unwilling to move itself, relying on Natasha to hold you upright enough so that you didn’t choke. The room was silent except for the sound of your noisy swallowing (and, soon, the slurping of last droplets of water). You were about to ask for more, but Natasha found an unopened plastic water bottle within reach and held that for you, too. It reminded you of the first time the two of you fucked, and suddenly the world didn’t feel so cold anymore.

“I’m done, Mommy,” you told her when half the water was gone. “I’m good.”

“You sure, babygirl?” her voice laced with deep, genuine concern. Her eyes reflected the same emotion.

You nodded, leaning into her and rubbing your knuckles where they laid against her thigh. “I’m sure, Mommy. Thank you.”

Natasha closed the bottle and tossed it into the half-open bedside table drawer before she wrapped you in her arms. “Of course, honeybee. I’m proud of you for using your safe word, thank you for trusting me.”

You mmmed and laid there for a moment, your breathing in rhythm with Natasha. You two sat there, comfortable in the silence. If there was anything else to say, you’d say it – but for the while you enjoyed the wordless space you and her existed in.

It took a long while, after your heart had slowed and your breathing had evened out, but you eventually fell asleep in Natasha’s arms. It was peaceful, deep – somehow impossibly more satisfying than any of the other times you’d fallen asleep, even the times you’d fallen asleep with her. There, secured from harm in her arms and wrapped in blankets, you felt secure. It was indescribable, it was wonderful, it was safe. And to you, in that moment, it was heaven.

#study buddy #lukis writes stuff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader

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jishyucks · 5 years

Text

Amortentia II ‣ Lee Donghyuck

‣ genre: fluff, light angst, hogwarts au

‣ wc: 15.4k

‣ summary: Donghyuck used the love potion for the fun of it. That warm feeling that he was starting to feel in his chest when he sees you isn’t fun.

Second part to this

a/n: I wrote the first part about a year and bit ago so please don’t be discouraged into reading this after reading part one. I believe I improved a lot! This took about a month to write in but I had a lot of fun writing it! Hope the borders help in case you can’t read it all at once

Thirteen Days Remaining.

As always, the wise words of Huang Renjun had drifted through Donghyuck’s head and he had completely forgotten about what he’d warn him about. It wasn’t like he wanted to forget… he just didn’t see it as important and his brain believed that if it was nothing important, then it was worth throwing it out instead of keeping it to waste space inside his head.

“I need this book about muggles… Y/N will you get it for me, please?” He glanced down at you who had an arm wrapped around his while you both studied. A bright smile appeared on your face when you looked up at him, nodding almost too enthusiastically. You unhooked your arm from his and stood up, disappearing into one of the many aisles of the library.

“Donghyuck,” Renjun tsked from the end of the table, head resting on his arm. The energy he gave off reeked of disappointment. Like a mother with high expectations for her child. He had a sharp scold on his face. If looks could kill, then Donghyuck should probably be six feet underground.

Donghyuck glared back at his friend and tapped the end of his pen onto his paper, “Yes, Renjun?”

“Didn’t I tell you not to take advantage of her?” Renjun lifted his head from his arm and raised a brow at the Slytherin, “And you said you wouldn’t… Explain what you’re doing right now.”

“I’m simply asking her to do me a favour. Anything wrong with that?” Donghyuck avoided the piercing gaze that Renjun continued to shoot his way and carried on reading his notes.

“A normal wizard wouldn’t ask someone to fetch a book for themselves for the tenth time in the same hour,” Renjun started to pack his books up, “You’re treating her like some slave. I can’t even bear to watch this.”

Donghyuck only then realized that Renjun was leaving and he couldn’t say anything in defense as he was already out by the door when he looked up, “Bye, I guess.”

“Here, Hae,” you sang softly, sliding the book that Donghyuck needed for his essay. Before he could even question the nickname, he thanked you, sliding the book directly to him to search for a desired topic. Like earlier, you sat back in the same position you were sitting in earlier and continued to do your own work.

He looked down at you again and briefly watched how your eyes would follow the words and how your lips would mouth them slightly. When you noticed him looking, your focused expression had twisted into the same potion crazed smile, causing him to look away. For a quick second, Donghyuck saw you as how he knew you. The you that was intoxicated with the potion. It was like the spell caused your emotions to go haywire when your eyes were set on him.

Eleven Days Remaining.

Before Donghyuck was even able to reach the door of the potions room, Professor Sylva called him over with two waves of her hand. The look on her face indicated that there was nothing good about whatever he was about to be told and Donghyuck couldn’t help but swallow the spit in his mouth.

“This is private, Miss Y/L/N,” she said gently, “You can wait for Mr. Lee outside.”

Donghyuck turned to see you standing a few steps away from him, arms wrapped your books gently. He noticed the pupils of your eyes grow seemingly bigger, which allowed him to sense that the spell was acting up again. Lifting his hand to wave you off kindly, you nodded your head and followed his orders, leaving him and Professor Sylva alone.

“I want to speak to you about grades,” she stated sternly. The skin of her face were hanging low from age and she didn’t have the energy to give Donghyuck eye contact. She simply skimmed through the marks listed messily in her grade book, “As far as I know you’re part of the quidditch team?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am,” he nodded.

“And from the grades I have down from your exams, you are merely passing this class,” she told him.

Gulp. Donghyuck looked towards the door, hoping you would come in to save him from this conversation. It was too bad the potion didn’t come with such powers.

“Silence… alright… by school rules, you are not able to attend the quidditch tournament if your marks are below seventy-five percent,” she explained, “Do you understand Mr. Lee?”

“S-Seventy-five? But Professor, there is no way I’m able to raise my grades in so little time,” he tried to reason, “The tournament is one of the biggest events for the team. I can’t miss that.”

“I understand that Mr. Lee, but academics are far more important than sports… There is a unit exam this coming week and if you do well on that test I will allow you to go to that tournament, nonetheless your average,” she explained.

“Okay,” he nodded in determination, “Okay, ma’am, I’ll do my best in that, I assure you.”

“Very well, Mr. Lee, you are dismissed.”

Donghyuck bowed and hurried out the door, reaching a new level of determination. This tournament was important to him and if he missed it, he really didn’t know what to do. His absence would also make him look like a fool. Missing a quidditch tournament just because of poor grades? How dumb would he look in front his whole team and the entire school?

“Are you alright Hyuck?” Donghyuck caught himself just hovering outside of the classroom door, stuck in thought. He hadn’t noticed that you were holding him by his wrist, eyes pouring into his full of worry.

He nodded quickly, “I’m okay. I’m going to the library.” If his attendance to the tourney really depended on this upcoming test then he really should start studying.

“I’ll come with?” You slowly used your arm to hook it with his, eyes still not leaving his though he didn’t return the look. Instead, he was staring at the air in front of him, deep in thought.

“Sure,” he answered weakly, “Okay.”

For the next few hours, reaching dusk, Donghyuck skimmed through all the information on the topic that he had found in his textbooks. He could feel his eyes desperately begging for a rest, yet he wouldn’t let them. You had tried to explain the topics a few times, which somewhat helped, yet he believed he learned better on his own. Periodically, he’d tell you to find another useful book on the history of magic and to bring it to him as it’d help him out. With the potion driving all your decisions connected to Donghyuck, you willingly did. You stood up with a tired smile and carried yourself to the history section of the library.

Mark, who had his own test coming up, watched as you departed from the table with a seemingly blank yet occupied expression. You didn’t notice your fellow house member and the concerned look on his face as you passed his table. Did Donghyuck do something to her? He thought, She’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with him…

“Lee Donghyuck,” he stood at the boy’s side, trying to hold back his anger. He didn’t want to act up right away, “I have a question.”

Donghyuck didn’t lift his head from the text-filled book, “I can’t talk right now, Mark, I have a test to ace.” “This will be quick,” Mark snapped his fingers by Donghyuck’s ear, which didn’t serve its purpose. Donghyuck was tracing his finger along the line he was reading, not giving Mark any of the attention he was asking for, “Donghyuck.”

“I said I don’t have time,” he mumbled, eyes still occupied on the text.

Mark’s patience ran low and he grabbed the book, closing it so that Donghyuck was forced to look. Donghyuck gasped, “I didn’t even get to save the page!” He tried to reach for the book but Mark hid it behind his back.

“I’ll give it back once you answer my question,” Mark calmly explained, “Y/N has been spending less time with me and the others with no explanation because she’s been spending time with you. That’s out of character. Not even three days ago you guys hadn’t even spoken a full conversation to each other… I don’t want to accuse you of anything but… did you do something to her? Are you threatening her or something?”

“No,” he replied bluntly, “Now give the book back, Markly.”

“Lying, I can tell. You’re acting like how you did when you came to our table the other day…” Mark dropped his arm to his side, the weight of the textbook wearing out his arm, “Tell me what you did and I won’t get mad.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Donghyuck answered quickly. He snatched the book straight from Mark’s hand and sat back down in his chair, “Now please leave. I need to focus.” “I won’t leave until you tell the truth. It’s obvious you’re lying, look how fast you’re shaking your leg.” Donghyuck hadn’t even noticed his leg was bouncing. With the test in mind and now Mark bothering him, he seemed to lose some control of his body. He looked up at Mark, the tension in his eyes fully disappearing from the constant strain he was putting on them. He contemplated whether or not he should tell you. You and Mark are close friends. Mark was only asking because he cared about you. Besides… he said he wouldn’t get mad.

Making sure no one was around, he gestured for Mark to sit down so he could tell him. There was still a hint of hesitation within him, though he knew it was too late as Mark was already leaning in with wide eyes.

“I-I… I-um, I gave her a love potion… Amortentia to be exact.”

Mark gasped and jumped back in his seat slightly, “A-amortentia?” Donghyuck could sense some anger coming from his voice and now he regretted telling the older boy. “Yeah…” he scratched the side of his thigh and smiled sheepishly, “It’ll only last for two weeks, no more. I—” “What was the purpose of this? You do know those who take the love potion can remember all the embarrassing things they do, right?” Mark looked back to make sure you weren’t coming.

“I-I don’t know… I guess just to see how it would turn out and how it works?” It took a moment for Donghyuck to process the last part Mark had said before it was turn to gasp. He was basically mimicking the expression Mark had made just a minute before, “They can?”

“Yeah… didn’t you read it from the book? It’s like a precaution or something,” Mark was trying to hold in his laughter. He knew that he was a dumbass, but not as dumb as Donghyuck was being right now.

“Oh shit…” Donghyuck cussed. He was hoping that after all of this, you both could go your own ways and it would all be done. But now that he found out that you would know everything that you would go through the next two weeks, he couldn’t help but think that his great grandchildren could feel that embarrassment. “That probably explains why… when she’s not looking at me she seems to act like how she normally is.”

Mark was snickering now. His body was shaking from silencing it, “I-I’ll just.” He choked back his laugh and stood up, “Normally I’d get really pissed off. She’s like a sister to me but that’s already a bad punishment. Rest in peace, Hyuck.” He heard footsteps coming from behind him and quickly ducked at the sight of you coming with a large stack of books, “But I just wanna say one thing. Please stop treating her like this… It’s just not right, dude.”

Donghyuck watched as you struggled while trying to get to him, books threatening to fall from the stack in your arms. The weak smile that you still held on your face and the building beat of sweat that sat at your hairline made him realize that you actually were struggling… the potion probably just stopped you from telling him no.

“I think I will…”

Mark blinked at Donghyuck, “Think? Well I guess that’s a start… Well I’ll see you later, Hyuck. I’ll be watching!”

Donghyuck waved as a reply and then immediately went to help you. He’ll stop treating you this way from this point on.

I guess I’ll just let the potion work its magic.

Ten Days Remaining.

The Great Hall was close to empty. There were a few students scattered throughout the tables, you, Donghyuck, and Renjun among those few.

Renjun had a sketch book laid out, pencil in hand as he rendered whatever came to mind onto the book. His tongue was slightly hanging out as he focused on the drawing. You sat next to him with a reading book out, which wasn’t really being read as you kept your attention on Donghyuck, who sat right across from Renjun. Donghyuck was, not surprisingly, studying for the upcoming history exam. Though he had the concept memorized, almost engraved, into his head, there was still a part of him that believed that he would still fail the test.

“You look tired,” you pointed out lightly, “Did you eat?” Your eyes didn’t leave his face as he turned his attention to you.

“I ate a sandwich?” It was more a question rather than an answer. He knew that wasn’t enough, judging by the fact he didn’t eat lunch or breakfast either.

“I’ll get you something to eat. I’ll go to the kitchen,” you insisted, “You need to eat if you can’t stop studying like this. You can’t not eat, Hyuck.”

He smiled at you genuinely, not used to someone caring for him this much at Hogwarts. He remembered Mark’s words, “You don’t need to.”

“But I want to,” you replied, “I’ll get you a snack and you better eat it.” You stood up from you seat and started your way down to the kitchen.

“You better not have told her to get you a snack,” Renjun muttered, face down to the paper.

Donghyuck’s mouth slightly dropped and he shook his head, “Did you not hear her? She basically insisted on getting me one.”

“Wow, character development,” Renjun had retorted with a slight hint of sarcasm. His eyes weren’t leaving the sketch book, “Tired of ordering her around?”

“I wasn’t tired but…” he looked towards the door and sighed, “Someone just reminded me that all of this is really messed up, someone who isn’t you at least… I guess having someone who wasn’t a best friend knocked sense into me and I felt bad?”

“Felt bad?” Renjun’s neck had pivoted to turn his attention to Donghyuck who was watching his reaction curiously, “You? Feeling bad? That’s not the Lee Donghyuck I know…” He turned back to his drawing, scribbling down some cross hatches at a desired spot.

“What do you mean by that?”

Renjun shrugged and didn’t even put effort into replying. Instead he focused all his energy into his drawing.

“All they had were cookies,” you smiled, “I guess that’s better than nothing.” You plopped the glass plate down by Donghyuck’s book.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Nine Days Remaining.

“Want to go Hogsmeade later?” You found Donghyuck walking down one of the long corridors, head stuffed in a History of Magic book. He didn’t look up nor reply. He was so deep in focus that anyone coming his way would part just so they wouldn’t interrupt him.

“Hae?” You tugged at his sleeve, eyes following the slope of his nose.

Snapping out of his trance, he laughed sheepishly and apologized, “What did you say?”

“Hogsmeade,” you replied, “Want to go later?” This week had been busy for you, too, and you really craved some butterbeer before Monday’s arrival.

Donghyuck needed to study for the test which was in just a few days. This was seriously the time for him to review and he couldn’t let the time slip right through his fingers, “Oh… I–“

Just by the tone of his voice, you knew he was about to turn it down. Your face faltered slightly. A part of you had waited for this moment for the past week. It was just excitement built up for nothing.

Your saddened expression had caught Donghyuck’s attention immediately.

“Why?” He shut his book and paid attention to you.

“Nothing… I just wanted to go to Hogsmeade but it's okay if you’re busy...” you answered quickly. You tried your hardest to change the subject, which caused you to leave your mouth dry. No words came out while subjects were being tossed back and forth in your head.

Gaze shifting between you and the thick textbook at hand, Donghyuck gulped slightly when he found himself in the middle of a somewhat difficult decision. The past few days, you had been your happy self, smiling bright, radiating energy similar to the sun. Now, it was all gone just because of one simple thing. He didn’t like that.

He needed a break from studying right? He’d been studying almost endlessly for the past two days… he could use a break. “Wait, I’ll go with you.”

Your face lit up, like how a Christmas tree would, “Really? A-are you sure?” Your eyes were directed at the book in Donghyuck’s hand, which he had hidden quickly.

“I’m sure. I’ve been studying the whole day anyways… I need a break,” he laughed slightly, “I’ll meet you at the start of the path in ten?”

Smile widening, you nodded. Your feet teetered onto its toes as you reached your lips to Donghyuck’s jawline, pecking it. You whispered a little, “I’ll see you then,” before turning for the edge of the school grounds to wait for him.

Did that just happen? Donghyuck was stunned, briefly forgetting that you were currently under a love spell. He forgot that there were possibilities of skinship and kisses like you had done just now. So here he was, slowly reaching for the spot you had kissed him. Weird.

Snapping out of the daze, he shook his head at the unfamiliar fuzzy feeling that tickled his stomach while he found his way back to his chambers to drop his book off.

“This is nice,” you sighed out. Your breath could be seen because of how cold it was outside, “It’s good to breathe air that isn’t school air.”

“True,” Donghyuck replied. He had forgotten his mittens inside his chest back in the boys’ dorm, which he now regrets. He was constantly rubbing his hands together like how one would build a fire with two sticks. But no flame was created and all he felt was nipping from the icy wind.

“Cold?” It was hard for you to miss the boy and this efforts to create heat with his hands. He nodded like a young kid, still trying to produce warmth through the palms of his hands, “Come here.” You held your gloved hands out to him. Though he was confused, he ‘handed’ you his bare hands.

You did your best to hold his larger hands in yours, trying to warm them up as you guys approached the destination ahead. Donghyuck looked down at your guys’ hands with a hint of awe. He looked back up at your face, which you noticed. You only returned his shocked look with a small smile, “Better?”

“Y-yeah… thanks.” By that time, you and Donghyuck had reached The Three Broomsticks, which actually wasn’t as crowded as you thought it would be.

You let go of his hands to hurry inside, holding the door open for the Slytherin.

It was funny to Donghyuck because, for some reason, his hands still felt cold even when you guys were inside. But he wouldn’t admit to himself why it did.

“Butterbeer?” You questioned. He nodded.

“I can order, you can go save us some spots,” Donghyuck offered. Gladly taking it, you turn towards the front of the pub to sit by the windows.

Once you were gone, Donghyuck had stolen a glance in the middle of thinking. He liked it when you were like this. When you didn’t act like you were under a spell. He always thought that love potions would make people act crazy. But not like this. It was refreshing. It was like you guys were actually dating.

You didn’t even like her before, you dumbass, now shut up, he quickly stopped his thoughts before they had gone too far. The two drinks were slid in front of him which he had gladly taken before turning to where you had sat down, It’s just the spell and how she’s acting. You’re only feeling this now because of the spell. You can’t possibly actually like her because of this.

Eight Days Remaining.

It didn’t take long for Donghyuck to figure out why it had been quiet the past few hours. All classes were finished and Donghyuck was planning on going to the library to study a bit more before his quidditch practice, but the fact that you weren’t at his side sort of bothered him. He had grown used to you tagging along for the past week and at this point it was just weird for you to not be there.

He wandered through the corridors he happened to pass by, subtly eyeing the classrooms and students along the way. Glancing down at his watch, he nodded to himself when he calculated a lengthy three hours before practice. If he were to find you in under an hour, then he’d have two hours to study, which was good.

Noticing a familiar boy dressed in a Gryffindor robe, Donghyuck stopped him with a remorseful grin, “Jeno, sorry to bother you.”

Jeno’s puppy dog eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, “Donghyuck? What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’ve seen Y/N? Haven’t seen her the entire day,” Donghyuck unconsciously teetered back and forth on his feet, feeling a bit giddy.

“I think I saw her going to the forbidden forest with Hagrid…” Jeno hummed, “So I guess you might find her around his hut?”

“The forbidden forest? For what?”

“Beats me…” Jeno shrugged. Over Donghyuck’s shoulder, a few voices called out for Jeno, “Well I gotta go. Hope I helped.”

“Thanks.”

Donghyuck began making his way down the hill, eyes set on Hagrid’s hut that sat nearby the forest. Just at the front, he spotted you sitting on the steps of the building with a cup in hand. It looked like you were in a relaxed state, staring out at the thriving forest like it was the sunset.

When you heard footsteps that weren’t even close to the heavy ones that belonged to Hagrid, you looked up from your daydream like gaze, smile widening more than it already was, “Hae!”

“Y/N,” he smiled, “Where have you been all day? I was looking for you.”

“Got excused for the day since I was helping Hagrid with some chores,” you replied, “Got to see some of my favourite creatures…” There was a brief moment of silence before you continued, “You should come along one day… unless you’re a scaredy-cat or something.”

“Ha-ha, funny,” Donghyuck sat next to you and laughed, “Just because I’m not a Gryffindor doesn’t mean I get scared easily.”

“I know,” you snickered. Taking the last sip of your drink, you hummed, “Why were you looking for me anyways? Missed me?”

Though Donghyuck knew the spell was talking and that you were joking, that one simple question drove him into a state of confusion. Why was he looking for you? It wasn’t like the spell needed the presence of the administrator for it to work. So why did he want to find you? Shouldn’t he enjoy the rare moments of your absence?

“You did!” You teased again. You reached for his face and poked his cheek, “Cutie.”

Though Donghyuck wasn’t sure about his own feelings and reasons, he chuckled slightly and pushed you playfully, “Shut up~”

Donghyuck hugged the quaffle as he slowly neared the ground, almost out of breath even when hadn’t done any actual cardio. It was still exhausting to be throwing the ball back and forth and into one of the hoops.

“Good practice today, guys,” Xiaojun, the team captain, smiled. He was slightly hovering above all of them, overlooking them with a proud smile, “We are definitely ready for that tournament.”

At the mention of the tournament, Donghyuck’s excited smirk faltered, suddenly remembering that he’d have to do well on the test in order to play. He still hadn’t told his teammates yet, which he knew he should have so they had the chance to practice with the other chasers.

“You’re all dismissed.” Xiaojun lowered himself, hopping off of his broom at the right height.

“Xiaojun can I talk to you?” Donghyuck could feel his grip tightening nervously around his stick as Xiaojun approached him.

“Of course, what is it?” Xiaojun propped up his broomstick against a nearby wall, resting his hands on his hips, “You did good out there today, Hyuck.”

“Thanks…” Donghyuck shifted back and forth between his left and right feet, unable to find a good way to tell him the news, “Professor Sylva told me that if I didn’t do well on a test then I can’t play the tournament.” He kept his gaze down at his feet and frowned, “Sorry I only told you now.”

“What?” Though Xiaojun was trying to hold his disappointment back, Donghyuck could sense it easily. He let the silence drag on for a second longer.

“I’m really sorry,” Donghyuck spoke under his breath. Xiaojun scowled slightly at the younger boy in front of him, “I’m only disappointed because I expected better from you, Donghyuck. You’re one of the best players, possible captain of next year’s team… But as my mother says, school’s important so I can’t get too mad.”

A sigh of relief left Donghyuck’s mouth. He was expecting some sort of lecture from his friend, but thankfully he pushed it to side.

“I expect you to do well on that test.” Xiaojun turned towards the changing rooms, Donghyuck following him not too far behind.

As Donghyuck left the changing room to go for dinner, he was greeted by the lovesick Gryffindor who’s presence had grown on him. He smiled as you approached him, a toothy grin dancing on your face effortlessly. “You’re still here?” Donghyuck asked.

You started walking at his side, clutching a book in your arms, “I left for a bit but it was to get you this.” Seemingly out of thin air, you pulled out some water.

“Thanks,” he the smile on his face grow, accepting the water before gulping most of it down.

A comfortable pause floated between you both as you were making your way to the great hall for dinner. Other students who had been outside were making their way in as well and it gave you a warm feeling. It was the sense of community that you loved. You turned towards Donghyuck to share the feeling but you stop yourself when you see that his eyebrows were closely knitted together and his lips that often held a smile was upside down.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s that test in two days.”

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. Grabbing his hand to hold it, you questioned him, “Why are you worried? You’ve been working hard towards acing this test, more than me. I don’t see how you’ll fail this exam. Just be confident that you’ll succeed.”

He bit his lip and shrugged, “I guess I feel like even if I do study my hardest, there’ll be other variables that would stop me from succeeding.” Turning to you, he gave you a reassuring smile and sighed, “But thanks Y/N.”

Six days remaining.

Donghyuck had no idea if it was the room that was growing hot or if it was just him. He had walked into the room ready and confident to ace the test but now that the package of paper was sitting in front of him, he wondered if it was all just false confidence that had filled his head.

He looked over at you from across the room, mouthing a ‘good luck’ to brighten his own mood. You smiled back and held a thumbs up, mouthing back a ‘you too.’ The professor went over the format and the amount of questions, stating that there was very limited in the questions she could answer.

“You may start,” she said sharply. She stood front and centre of the room, eyeing each student and making sure that no one was planning to cheat.

To the best of his ability, he answered the multiple choice questions, taking his time if there were sources that supported the question. He underlined what he believed were the important parts of the source and used them to answer what the question was looking for. Only he was never certain when he actually came to answering the question.

“Ten minutes left,” Professor Sylva’s voice echoed throughout the room and it caused the pace of Donghyuck’s heart to speed up involuntarily. There were forty questions and he was stuck on question twenty-nine. He looked around to see if anyone else was still writing, which to his relief, most of the class was. Even you. He instantly regretted taking his time reading the earlier questions thoroughly. If he hadn’t done so, then maybe he would have time to finish and look over the questions again. The muscles in his eyes began skimming the remaining questions and answers, choosing those that seemed like something he had read from the numerous textbooks in the library.

“Five.” Professor Sylva was already clearing a spot on her side desk for students to place the exam. Donghyuck gulped.

Just as the Professor stood to announce the end of the test, Donghyuck was able to finish answering the final question, a sigh of relief leaving his partly opened lips. Row by row, the students began to file down the walk ways, placing the exam firmly on the perfectly cleared spot on her desk. Students have already started discussing the answers they had put down on the test, groaning if their answers hadn’t matched one that left one of the top students’ mouths.

“How’d you find it?” a fellow Slytherin, Seungmin, came up from behind Donghyuck, “I think I did decent.”

“I-I actually don’t know,” Donghyuck’s head played back the many times he marked a question with a star, meaning he was unsure that he had gotten that right, “I just don’t understand… I studied so damn hard for this test and I still found it difficult.”

“It’s either I failed or you failed,” Seungmin threw an arm around the boy, “But I mean no tests are easy you know. You never know, you could have done well.”

“I guess so.” Seungmin waved a quick goodbye before joining his friends, leaving Donghyuck alone once they had reached the doors.

“How are you?” You appeared at Donghyuck’s side, strands of hair out of place from messing with it during the test. You looked like you had just gotten a new owl for Christmas, corners of your mouth turned up.

“I don’t even know.”

“Well, you probably did good,” you held his hand and started swinging it, “Don’t worry about it too much okay?”

Donghyuck looked down at your intertwined fingers, feeling his expression soften a bit. It was actually comforting having someone there, even if problems weren’t that serious. Sure, Donghyuck had Renjun and other people from his house, but it wasn’t the same as how you comforted him.

“I won’t.” It wasn’t a promise but he knew you just wanted to hear a reply that satisfied you.

“Good. I’ll see you after classes.” Just like the day you both had gone for Hogsmeade, you bring yourself up to kiss Donghyuck’s cheek. You dropped your hands and waved, turning towards your next class.

Donghyuck didn’t admit it to himself but he was starting to get used to that funny feeling in his chest.

Five Days Remaining.

Donghyuck was struggling to keep his eyes open, head falling forward and almost into the oatmeal he had chosen as breakfast. He reached for a cup of coffee that was sitting to his right, gulping it all down in hopes to wake himself up.

Renjun, who was sitting across the table, couldn’t help but laugh at his friend, “You’re a dumbass.” It was one of those loving insults, when you knew the one saying it didn’t actually mean for it to hurt you. This was how Donghyuck and Renjun spoke to each other most of the time, “Why’d you stay up last night. I almost lost sleep because of your constant muttering.”

Donghyuck forcibly widened his eyes, “I was going over the test in my head.” He used the silver spoon to pick up a lump of oatmeal, throwing it into his mouth, “I was trying to make sure I didn’t make any mistakes.”

“You know the more you think about it, the more you’ll actually cause yourself stress,” Renjun munched on a bright green apple. He could spot the heavy bags beneath Donghyuck’s eyes and actually grew worried. Donghyuck has never been in such a state. This tournament was seriously that important to him.

“You know you have next year’s tournament if you miss this year’s,” Seungmin butted in. He was sitting about a foot from where Renjun sat, trying to finish some last minute homework. Being part of Slytherin meant he knew all the stuff that went on in the house, “You actually look like you’re ill or something.”

“You don’t understand,” Donghyuck groaned, “I’m a possible candidate for next year’s captain. This is one of my only chances to impress Xiaojun.” Again, Donghyuck basically inhaled another cup of coffee like it would wash down his worries. He stuffed his mouth with oatmeal and some pancake that was an arm’s length away from him.

Renjun twisted the apple’s stem slowly, ��How are you balancing that Y/N situation and this situation all at once? Isn’t she a bother… you know with the potion and all…” Renjun leaned in to whisper the last part. He hadn’t been around Donghyuck outside of the dorms as much as the time prior to the spell.

Donghyuck dropped his spoon and gaped subtly at Renjun, “Bother?”

“Yeah like, annoying and stuff,” Renjun took another bite out of his apple, juices oozing out.

“Actually no… she’s actually been helping me.”

“Helping you?” Renjun questioned through a filled mouth, “Wow, really didn’t expect that.”

“I didn’t either.” Donghyuck looked towards the Gryffindor table and to your usual spot. There you were sitting with Mark and Jeno, laughing at your daily dose of Mark’s foolishness. Spontaneously, Donghyuck felt himself wake up a bit more, eyes feeling less heavy and muscles starting to work again. Only, he didn’t know if it was the coffee finally kicking in or the sight of your smile.

Donghyuck was walking alongside his two friends, wandering aimlessly through the halls. All classes were over and there was no other way to kill time than fool around.

“I’m only like an inch shorter than you!” Renjun flicked Jaemin, their Hufflepuff friend, on the arm, “Not even!”

“Still shorter than me,” Jaemin teased. He broadened his shoulders to look like he had a larger frame than Renjun. Renjun shot a glare at him and flicked him again. This was his only defense as of now. He had no intentions of hurting the boy. Though Jaemin knew this, he poked Renjun’s side and started running down the hall in hopes of getting away.

He can’t catch him anyways, Donghyuck laughed, keeping his pace. Suddenly from down an intersecting hall, the familiar shriek of a voice had bounded down it like an echo, startling not only Jaemin and Renjun, but Donghyuck as well, who was doing nothing wrong.

“Boys! Stop running!” It was Professor Sylva. Her hair was messier than usual for no reason.

The three of them had stopped dead in their tracks, head shooting at the direction of the terrifying witch. She was making her way down the hall at a fast old lady speed and her robe was flapping behind her. Anyone who wasn’t used to the sight would actually be running the opposite direction. Only the three boys were smart enough to not be doing so.

As she got to them, she eyed them carefully, eyelid basically twitching. When her eyes set on Donghyuck, she narrowed her eyes and her brows had knitted so close together that it merged into one, “You.”

“M-me?” Donghyuck stammered. He sounded like a wimp, but he had to admit that Professor Sylva terrified him the most out of all the teachers. She was blunt and she seemed like she didn’t care about anything but her and the cat usually followed her around. Just picture Lady Tremaine.

“Perfect timing,” she said, “Boys you guys are excused. I need to speak to Mr. Lee.”

Gladly, Renjun and Jaemin bolted from the hall, but instead of running, the speed walked out there.

“This must be a mistake, Professor, I wasn’t even running!” he tried to defend himself, scared he’d lose points for his house. Before he got to add anything else to his defense, the woman interrupted him.

“It’s not about this. I’m talking about your exam grade,” she started walking down the hall, motioning for Donghyuck to follow.

“O-oh?” He gulped and felt his heart skip a beat, “How did I do?”

Professor Sylva turned around sharply, eyes narrowed once again, “You did… suspiciously well.”

A smile grew widely on Donghyuck’s face, weight lifting off of his shoulders faster than a snap. But then he shouldn’t have reacted so soon.

“I’m not letting you play the tournament.”

“W-what?” Donghyuck was a stuttering mess, “B-but you said I did well! That was the deal. I-If I did well, then I could play!” His voice started to rise.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Donghyuck,” Tremaine hushed, “You cheated on that test… Even the brightest of students didn’t get a mark as high as you.”

Donghyuck stared at the Professor, mouth agape, “E-exactly! If no one else got that mark then how could I have che-”

“No excuses! You’re not playing and that’s final,” if looks could kill, Donghyuck would have been dead by now.

“B-but—”

“No excuses,” Professor Sylva started walking down the hall, “I’m disappointed in you, Donghyuck.”

She left Donghyuck standing at the centre of the hall alone. He felt like crying, which he had never done in all his years at Hogwarts. He swore on his life, on his own family, that he didn’t cheat. He knew he was not the brightest, but he would never cheat on a test, not even on a quiz.

“Hyuck?” Where he had come from, he heard Renjun’s voice call for him, “What happened?”

He craned his neck to look back, tears threatening to leave his eyes. As he replied, he couldn’t control the way his voice cracked, “It’s nothing. I need space.” Knowing Donghyuck, Renjun let him go. He watched as Donghyuck began walking away from him, slowly disappearing from his sight.

Donghyuck didn’t dare look up. He stared at the tips of his shoes as they peeked out from beneath his robe after each step he took. He didn’t want to be seen on a brink of tears. He knew that if he were to speak once more, he’d break down.

All of that hard work only to be snubbed? He thought, Utter bullshit.

He was so tempted to kick the wall, though he loved his feet and the walls were pure stone. Donghyuck decided to just resort on walking, trying to hum out some tunes to get his mind off of things.

At one point in the middle of his seemingly endless walk, he heard a voice he hadn’t heard all day, “Hyuck!”

He glanced up slightly, seeing that you were already making your way down the hall, beaming a bright smile towards. As you got closer, your smile began to fade in realization of Hyuck’s red eyes and the pout that lay lazily on his face.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He noticed how much your eyes showed sincerity, which was probably not normal for one under a love potion.

He just shook his head, still refusing to speak. There was no way he’d cry. Not in the middle of this hall when anyone could walk in. Not in front of you when he could possibly embarrass himself. He would rather hold it all in for later.

You reached your hand out and intertwined you fingers with his, “Come.”

Even if he was confused, he didn’t speak up. He tried to keep the tears at the same time he was trying to figure out where you were taking him. You guide him down a bunch of stairs and then up others. You both passed by a variety of hallways with plenty of decorations on the walls. It’s like you were taking him all the way across the school.

Not long after, he found that you had brought him into a small room in one of Hogwarts’ pillars. It looked like an unused classroom. Blackboards lining the supposed front of the room and shelves to place books or such onto it. A small bunch of stairs lead up to the front, probably where the teacher could stand higher than students. It fascinated Donghyuck.

“Now you can tell me,” you stated, “I know you’re afraid of people seeing you cry so I took you here.” From how you spoke, Donghyuck guessed this was some sort of secret spot you had or even one you shared with your friends. It touched him somehow that you had chosen to bring him there. Even with that potion still running through your blood. It seemed like…

“I–“ Even with a short, one syllable word his voice cracked. But this time he let some tears go, “It isn’t fair…”

You sat down at an enlarged windowsill and listened to him continue, “I worked so fucking hard to get a good mark on that test and damn Sylva thinks I cheated.” Anger caused Donghyuck to walk back and forth along the space in front of you. He was clutching onto the sleeves of his robe, eyebrows furrowed.

“I would never cheat. She didn’t even let me explain myself,” by now he was full on crying, not sobbing, but close. He let the tears flow, he didn’t care if you heard the way his voice wavered, which he was secretly insecure of, “Now I can’t play at that damn tournament.

“The past fucking week I’ve been losing sleep and getting migraines just for that hard fucking test and I hate how the effort I put is all wasted… and mind her, I rarely put any effort into school… Am I… Am I overreacting?” He stopped in front of you. Tear stained cheeks visible because of the sun shining through the window.

You noticed how the brown of his eyes were engulfed by a darkening red and you couldn’t help but feel you heart truly drop at the sight.

You opened your arms and waved him over. He approached you slowly and shyly crept closer. Once he was in a good distance, you brought him into your arms and held him tightly.

“Professor Sylva is at fault here,” you say in a hushed tone. It wasn’t because you were under a spell that you were saying that. It was true that this was all unfair for Donghyuck when you’ve actually watched him study for the past few days, “She shouldn’t assume things. You’re not overreacting. I would be really mad if I were you, too.”

Donghyuck wasn’t crying out loud anymore. He had his face buried into your shoulder as he hugged you back. This was what he needed.

When you were sure he was finished crying, you gently dropped your arms and went to hold his face so that he would look at you. Your smaller hands struggled to do so, but you tried your best.

With emotions not hindering his other feelings any longer, Donghyuck was taken aback by the gesture. He felt his heart beat faster than a normal person’s would. For a second he thought he was going to pass out because of the rapid beating. But he soon came to a conclusion as to why it was beating that way.

He hated how real this moment felt. It seemed so genuine. The look in your eyes, the sincerity in the way you held his face. He wished it wasn’t the spell driving you to do this. Was the Amortentia potion this good? To make the person who had administered the potion feel things too?

“You’re going to be okay,” you ensure, “Alright Hyuck?”

Donghyuck hummed as a quiet response, eyes pouring straight into yours.

Now his heart hurt and it wasn’t only because of missing that Quidditch tournament.

Four days remaining.

Donghyuck and Renjun has stayed up until midnight talking about what happened. All from Professor Sylva and that bullshit to the moment you and Donghyuck had in that unused classroom. It was a surprise to Donghyuck that, even after a long day, he was still wide awake and thinking about it.

He held a hand to his chest and blinked at his friend who was fast asleep in the bed next to his. Why was he feeling this way? He shouldn’t even feel this way because in the end he’s just hurting himself. This was all feelings being brewed up from the actions of a girl who was literally under a potion.

The two weeks of the potion was almost up and he knew that after it was all done that you’d be trying your hardest to avoid him after what he’s done to you.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Donghyuck air punched himself in the head, “Donghyuck you dumbass. Stop. Just sleep.”

“Yeah I agree,” Renjun murmured, eyes closed, “I can't sleep when I can literally sense you staring at me.”

“Sorry,” Donghyuck apologized. He sighed and turned over to the other side of his body. Maybe these feelings were all because of the events happening. Maybe it will go away when he wakes up later. It was just a small crush.

Donghyuck suddenly realized that he was completely wrong when he found himself stirring the coffee he had with a spoon. The repeated sound of the metal being dragged across the glass could probably be heard by the other Slytherins on his side of the table. Renjun, who was sitting next to him today, was surprised no one had tried to stop him yet.

“Clear your head or something,” Renjun roughly bit on a bagel. He was only trying to look out for his friend.

“I… Can’t…” Donghyuck glanced towards the Gryffindor table, spotting you you almost immediately out of all those students, “Is it possible for a love spell to like… diffuse into another person?”

Renjun choked on the warm bread and pivoted his head towards you, “Huh?”

“Diffuse… well in this case move from one person to another.” Donghyuck wasn’t aware of Renjun’s shocked look. He was staring at the reflection of himself in the black coffee, blinking plainly.

“I-I don’t think so?” Renjun wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t read of those possibilities in the books, “Why?”

“Because I think I have feelings for her,” Donghyuck wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. He felt these emotions brewing up since that day Mark came to him the library, or more obviously, on that trip to Hogsmeade. He just didn't want to admit anything in case of his brain and his heart playing some tricks on him. He handled the potion didn’t he? It could've absorbed into his skin, which wasn’t even possible.

Renjun soon found this conversation more interesting than the food on his plate. He completely dropped it all and sat so that he was straddling the bench, “Feelings? How?”

“You know how amortentia makes people all wonky and weird?” Renjun nodded. He remembers learning about it in class. There were only a few rare classes where the spell didn’t do that or the effects were milder in some individuals.

“Well… there were times when it didn’t seem like she was... intoxicated, in lack of a better term,” Donghyuck described, “To me it felt real, which is bad to think about… there are times when I think that it wouldn’t be so bad to actually be dating her.”

The meal had finished and they were off to class, though the conversation continued.

“I’m not telling you to stop liking her or anything,” Renjun started, “But what’s going to happen when the spell wears out and she remembers everything you did to her? What if she hates you for what you did and you still have these feelings? The way she’s acting now is all because of that stupid potion you coined a week or so ago.”

“I only treated her ‘bad’ for like two days, then I stopped… ” Donghyuck reasoned, “But after that, I really don’t know.”

If only he knew that he was going to catch feelings for you, he would have thought this through. There was still a bit of hope inside of him that this was all just false, temporary feelings, but his heart beat says otherwise. There was no telling what would happen as soon as the spell wears out, but he knows for sure that it’ll hurt.

Two Days Remaining.

Donghyuck did not want to do anything with Hufflepuff’s quidditch team nor did he want to seem like a spy, but Jaemin had told him to wait by the pitch because he needed help with something after. Being the nice friend he was, he chose to wait.

He found a nice spot underneath a tree that was planted by the pitch. Donghyuck figured it was a good spot since he wasn’t actually able to see the team run their plays. He could only see them if they flew high enough. The sun shone warmly on his bare skin too, which was a bonus.

Leaning back against the tree’s trunk, he crossed his arms behind his head and relaxed. This was the first time he had done so the past few days, especially with the news Sylva dropped. He needed this. It was refreshing.

“What are you doing?”

Donghyuck looked up to see you standing there, hair catching the breeze gently. Your head was tilted slightly curiously.

“Just… sitting,” Donghyuck’s heart began to beat faster.

“By the pitch?” You laughed lightly. Making your way to his side, you sat down close enough so that your shoulder grazed his when you moved. You mirrored his state, “You know… watching others play won’t make you feel better, dumbass.” Shouldering him playfully, you brought a hand up to his eyes to cover them.

“I’m not watching them…” he defended, “Jaemin told me to wait for him.”

You let out a sound that meant you understood and then removed your hand from his eyes. This time, your head fell naturally on his shoulder. Silence took it upon itself to lay over both of you, comfortably sitting there like the both of you.

Even if the quidditch practice went no longer than two hours, the calming atmosphere had lulled you into a light nap right on Donghyuck’s shoulder. He hadn’t known you fell asleep until he heard the steady breaths leave your nose.

A gentle yet shy smile washed over his lips when he looked down out at you. His heart didn’t even try to settle back into its resting it’s normal rate. It continued to beat at such an abnormal speed that he felt like he was going to explode. Though it was a somewhat good feeling, he knew that this would only hurt more when the spell ended. He likes you too much at this point to get over his feelings in such a short time.

From afar he noticed Mark walking alone by the castle’s closest entrance. Mark, too, had noticed the two of them. It didn’t take long for him to decide to come over.

“How’s it going Hyuck?” Mark questioned. Donghyuck knew damn well he was asking both for him and for the situation. Mark’s eyes were shifting between your sleeping figure and Donghyuck.

“Good…” he threw him an ‘I’m okay’ smile and followed Mark’s gaze towards you.

“How long till the spell wears out?”

“The last day’s tomorrow.” Mark sensed an unusual tone in Hyuck’s voice. His ears perked up and tried to read Donghyuck’s eyes for emotions.

“You seem sad…” Mark sat down in front of them, a little bit more towards Donghyuck.

“Sad?” Donghyuck questioned. He didn’t mean to sound sad.

“Yeah…” Mark looked towards Donghyuck once again, trying to sense what type of energy spilled out of Donghyuck’s body, “You like her don’t you.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks flushed and he tried to hide his face with his free arm. It was lucky for him that the sleeve was larger than his head. This action already confirmed Mark’s assumptions.

“Not going to lie,” Mark started. He was picking at the grass, pulling them out carefully so that he could see the light green at the bottoms of each one, “It wasn’t obvious but she was interested in you… I’m not sure in what way, but she thought you were cool.”

Donghyuck couldn’t reply. All he did was look at Mark with doubt.

“I’m not joking,” Mark said a bit louder, “But yeah. What are you going to do after the spell wears off?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck couldn’t shrug, “Whatever happens, happens. If she hates me after this, I don’t blame her. I’m going to miss her, though.” He laughed at his own cheesiness, cringing a bit too.

“Well,” Mark made a clicking sound with his mouth, “True, you got a point… I gotta go but I wanted to say thanks for not continuing the way you treated her like before.” He held a hand out for a ‘bro-handshake,’ Hyuck immediately going in for it. At that, Mark left.

Donghyuck stares back down at you and sighed. Tomorrow was the last day the spell would be working and possibly the last day you would even talk to him. He can’t waste that.

When he finished helping Jaemin with carrying a project over to his classroom, he looked down at the wristwatch, “It’s… four. Do you think I could still go to Hogsmeade?”

“I don’t see why not. Curfew is not until ten,” Jaemin shrugged, “Why though?”

“It’s nothing.”

One Day Remaining.

Mondays were bad. But remembering that the spell wears out tomorrow and today could be the last day you’d be hanging around Hyuck just made it worse.

The classes that usually felt long on normal days felt like a few short minutes, which somehow angered Donghyuck. The day that mattered the most at the moment was flying past way too quickly when he honestly did not want it to.

By the end of class, he glanced at you, who had already been looking at him. He didn’t flinch at all though. Two weeks with the spell, he had grown used to it. A small piece of him even liked it.

“Are you busy after classes today? Plans to help out Hagrid?” he questioned. His fingers fidgeted with the writing utensil he held in his hand, tapping it, twirling it, anything to occupy them.

You leaned over towards the table and shake your head, “No, I don’t think so… why?”

“Want to hang out?” It was his first time asking you to hang out with him. Usually, it was you who engaged it, which made sense because of amortentia.

“Hang out?” Your eyes lit up at the idea, “Where? We can’t go to Hogsmeade.”

“I don’t know… around the castle? We can go people watching, judge paintings. If the sun sets early enough, we can watch it before curfew. Maybe star gazing,” his mouth spoke before his head could even think. All these things he had been thinking about throughout the day. Donghyuck could not control himself.

“That sounds better than going to Hogsmeade,” you smile. He mirrors your smile and nods at himself.

Almost just as the class ended, you both were the door and straight to aimlessly wandering around wherever your feet took you both. Some areas you’d stare at the paintings, trying to find its purpose and laughing when the paintings themselves corrected you both. Then for a short time, you’d be sitting at the popular hangout areas of the school and complemented those who were near and those who passed by. The smiles on your faces were shining as bright as the torches on the stone walls and it was pretty evident to everyone that there was no way they were able to wipe those off any time soon. At least, not until the end of the day.

After dinner, early evening, you and Donghyuck were perched on the wide windowsill of the unused classroom that you had brought him that one day, staring down at those who were in view and the sight that looked like a painting. You both sat on your robes for the purpose of comfort. The sun was low on the horizon, the bottom of it barely touching the place where land meets sky. The clock’s short hand sat perfectly in the middle of eight and nine, meaning that the sun was basically bound to set soon. Though it made Donghyuck sad that the day was coming to an end, he told himself that he shouldn’t let that ruin the mood and the energy between you both.

“Hae…”

He looked over and found you with your head resting against the glass, “Why do you call me that?”

“Cause it means ‘the sun,’” you replied. You were staring out at the sun as you said so.

“I know…” Donghyuck softly answered, “But why?”

Your eyes flickered over to him and you sat up, this time leaning your head back against the wall behind you. There was a pause as you started gathering an explanation that would make it easy for him to understand. He let this silence draw out, watching people down below faking some sort of duel.

“Hae… I guess that nickname sort of just fit, you know?” you started, “Probably starting first or second year, you sort of gave off the same energy as the sun… you brightened up the room, the energy, even if you always caused trouble. I found you interesting though. I wanted to be friends with you, which seemed easy judging my personality, but I could never get to ever doing it…”

A blush crept up to his face at the meaning of it. No one had never given him a nickname like that. Usually it just followed his real name, which, yeah, was nice, but one that actually had meaning? It caused a warm feeling to erupt in his chest. “Thanks, I guess?” he had no idea how to reply to it. Was it a compliment? “But hey, we’re here now right. You’re talking to me…”

You nodded, “That’s true…”

The sun had moved quickly in such a short time and as it sunk behind the horizon, with it, it pulled a beautiful pattern of colours. It had rendered both of you speechless, interrupting the conversation.

Not long after, the sky was almost pitch black, or a deep navy blue. The stars littered the sky, like someone had spilled a whole container of glitter. It was just as breathtaking as the sunset, maybe better. Playfully, you had began counting the amount of stars in the sky, Donghyuck joining in every once in a while. There were occurrences when you’d get distracted and talk about a subject with Donghyuck before getting back to counting.

“So much,” you lazily groaned out. You stopped at star one-hundred-and-seventeen and ran your hand through your hair, “And it looks like there’s one thousand more… so one-thousand-one-hundred-and-seventeen stars.”

“That is a lot,” Donghyuck chuckled. Naturally, he glanced over at the clock, “I think we have to get going… it’s half past ten.” The day’s over…

Donghyuck decided to walk you back to the Gryffindor Tower, where you silently and mutually decided to play a game of ‘try not to laugh.’

“Not fair,” you whisper-shouted. You weakly flicked Donghyuck’s shoulder, “This game is hard to play with you.”

“Not my fault I’m hilarious,” Donghyuck played along, brows raising with pride. The way he smiled caused his dimple to appear, making him look softer than he already was.

You rolled your eyes and began to skip ahead of him, trying your best to make a minimal amount of sounds with your feet. Donghyuck jogged to keep up, hair bouncing as he did. He had no idea how there weren’t scolded yet, by a professor or a prefect since the time was dangerously close to eleven.

Upon arriving at the Gryffindor landing, you slowed your pace so that Donghyuck could catch up. Silence was filled with the heavy breathing of both of you, a few breathy laughs being able to squeeze in between. Donghyuck began to realize that he almost had to say goodbye to you soon, his smile faltering slightly.

“Bye Hyuck, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you had your back beside the Fat Lady’s portrait, whispering the password.

Donghyuck’s heart stopped slightly. This was going way too quick for his liking, “Wait!”

Your brows furrowed, “Yeah?”

Stuffing his hands into his uniform’s pockets, he pulled out a cube shaped box. It was wine red velvet, and was so small that it barely filled the palm of his hand. Opening it, he pulled out a necklace, which had a star pendant. At the middle of that star was a diamond looking gem. It was simple, yet still so beautiful to the eye. It wasn’t too much.

“Hae!” You gasped quietly.

He couldn’t hold back the flourishing smile on his face, “I – um – I wanted to give you this… a gift from me to you to apologize and for remembrance… it’s not a lot bu–“

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a lot,” you stepped forward, a shy expression creeping up on your face, “Why say sorry and why remembrance?”

He unlocked the clasp on the necklace which signaled for you to turn so he could put it on, which you gladly did, “That’s not important right now. You know when the time comes.”

You nodded understandingly. You couldn’t help but stare adoringly at the necklace, “It’s beautiful… like the one-thousand-one-hundred-and eleven stars up in the sky right now.” A hand went up and held the star tightly, “I don’t think I’ll ever take this off.” You closed the proximity between you both with a warm embrace. He held you back tightly.

Donghyuck blushed, even when he does remember that you probably wouldn’t after tonight. You probably wouldn’t even take a second glance at that necklace when that spell wears out and his present is just gonna get hurried in a jewelry box you owned. But it was okay. He was glad he was able to give you it. That you owned something that he gave you.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered.

You looked up at him and grinned, reaching up to peck him on his jawline, “Goodnight, Hae.”

You let go and began making your way into the tower, “Bye Hyuck.”

“See ya, Y/N.”

Zero.

You stumbled down the stairs and into the Gryffindor common room, head pounding from who knows what. Mark was sitting by the fireplace while he read out of a school textbook.

“Good morning,” he greeted. He stretched his legs out and then folded them to himself, “You’re up early.”

“This headache woke me up… and the unconscious areas of my brain decided to make a whole weird dream for me...” you groaned, sitting next to him tiredly, “And now I can’t go back to sleep.” You grabbed your head, rubbing the temples with your fingers. You felt as though as you had done so much and gone through a lot but you know for sure that you hadn’t.

“Go get water or something,” Mark suggested, “Take medicine?”

“Sure, that sounds like a good idea,” you nodded. Standing up, you cringed into yourself as you felt the pounding return.

You made your way up to the girls’ dorms and grabbed medicine from your trunk. The bottle made a shaking noise as you walked heavily, passing by everyone else, still asleep. You almost jumped at your reflection in the mirror as you crossed paths with one. You had to stifle a laugh at your own foolishness, shaking your head. You were off off today.

Something caught your eye, stopping you in your tracks. What?

Your feet began to move your entire body to the mirror, eyes trained on that one thing that sat beneath the area where your collarbones left an empty spot.

Usually, you would never trust your eyes at this hour. They just weren’t functioning properly, but you could see it and you knew for sure your eyes weren’t lying to you. Not when you could now feel it against your chest.

“It wasn’t a dream?” You whispered. Reaching for the star that hung on your neck, your eyes widened, driven by the fear of your sudden realization, “Donghyuck wasn’t just a dream?”

Suddenly, the memories of the past two weeks had flooded back like a tsunami. All the embarrassing and cheesy things that you had done, the slight confession, the kisses, the hand holding… had you really done all of those things? You didn’t even remember willingly doing them. You cringed at yourself and ignored the headache that only grew with this epiphany. Thoughts of Donghyuck probably hating you and finding you weird had taken over your thoughts and you were close to freaking out. Why in the hell did you do that? When did you have the capacity to do that?

“Wait, no, stop,” you say, “I could just be thinking all that shit… what if I got this necklace from somewhere—someone else? I can ask Mark. Maybe he knows.”

You ran down the stairs, probably unintentionally waking up your fellow housemates as you did. At this point, you really didn’t care.

“Mark, who gave me this?” You stretched the necklace out to him, giving him a clear look at the necklace.

“Donghyuck did, you told me so last night,” he mindlessly muttered, “The spell’s suppose to wear out today, so I don’t know– hold the fuck up!” His eyes widened at his own realization of what he had revealed to you. He stood up rapidly, book dropping rapidly to the carpet.

“Spell?” Your eyes narrowed. Your fingers still played with the star, “What spell?”

Mark laughed nervously. He didn’t know if he was allowed to tell you, as it wasn’t his place to tell you, but it seemed like it was too late now. Before he was able to approach you, he watched as you almost fell into the wall. You saved yourself with your arms.

“Are you okay?” Mark hurried to your side.

“I’m fine, my head just… hurts a lot,” you squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed your head with your hands. Mark called for Jeno, who sprinted down the stairs half asleep, “Can you help me bring Y/N to the infirmary?” Jeno nodded and helped you up along with Mark.

A nurse almost knew that you guys were coming as she stood by the infirmary’s entrance ready to help out. Mark had explained to her how you woke up with a bad headache, but nothing about coming out of ‘spell coma.’ You hadn’t said anything about it either, mostly because you really had no idea about any potion.

The nurse laid you down on one of the nearest beds and started to check up on you, asking questions directly to you or Mark, Jeno standing behind as some sort of support.

“Is there anything severe going on?” Mark questioned. The nurse seemed to have finished her examination and was now standing to the side, writing some notes onto a pad of paper.

“Nothing bad. She needs a day’s rest,” the nurse replied quietly, “She can leave tomorrow morning.”

Mark nodded and sighed in relief. The nurse turned to leave to grab a few more things for treatment, leaving you, him, and Jeno alone. Mark let Jeno go back to the common room since he was abruptly woken up and he needed to tell you something that Jeno had business about.

“I’ll come back later to tell you some things…” Mark stated.

You cut him off, “Tell me everything… I really don’t care if it’s not your place. It’ll be easier for me and for Donghyuck…” It was true. If you think about it, there was probably no way that Donghyuck was going to be able to explain everything.

Mark nodded, “Okay but I’m telling him that I’m telling you.”

If Donghyuck were to bluntly describe how he felt right now, he would use the words ‘scared shitless.’ He had no idea how he would act towards you now that he had these feelings. Should he act like none of the last two weeks happened? Should he act like he didn’t care? What if in the end you really didn’t care at all and he was just overthinking all of this?

When you didn’t arrive at any of the classes you shared with him, he couldn’t help but think that it was all his fault you hadn’t shown up. He really had no intention of embarrassing you like that or making you possibly feel stupid. He didn’t even know you’d remember all of it. Donghyuck knew it was him and his idea that was stupid. He really hoped that you didn’t feel that way. He couldn’t even watch the team’s quidditch practice properly as his entire train of thought was basically devoted to you and you only.

“Lee!” Xiaojun yelled from yards away, “I know you’re not playing tomorrow, but you still have to watch us. Point out some things we can tweak.” Donghyuck’s lips tightened at the reminder as he nodded. He held a thumbs up instead of verbally responding to his teammate and sat back.

Xiaojun pushed off the ground and back into the air where the rest of the team played, leaving Donghyuck alone with his thoughts. Mindlessly, he used his eyes to follow anyone who whizzed past just to look like he was watching, but not in the way they wanted.

“Hyuck!” He heard someone call. His ears perked up immediately, hoping that it’d be you calling. He turned and found the lively Gryffindor waving his free arm.

“Markly!” Donghyuck called back. Mark was quickly making his way over to him, robe flapping behind him like a dorky cape. His left hand clutched a book tightly, threatened to fall due to his own speed.

“I’ve been looking for you the entire day,” he huffed, plopping into the seat next to the Slytherin, “It’s about Y/N.” Donghyuck was even more interested now. Mark continued, “The spell wore out this morning, I sorta accidentally told her about it.”

At this point, Donghyuck didn’t care. He only cared if you were okay, “Why didn’t she go to class?”

“She woke up with a really bad headache,” Mark started, “Probably from being released from the spell… she just needs rest though, so it’s nothing bad. I’m about to go there right now to tell her everything. She said it’d be easier for you.”

For some reason, the pace of Donghyuck’s heart started to speed up, “I-Is she mad at me?”

Mark shook his head, “I don’t think so? She seemed chill about it. I don’t know if that’ll change after I tell her everything she told me when she was under the spell.”

“Can I come?”

Mark sat silently for a bit, tapping the textbook with steady rhythm, “Do you really want to be the one to tell her everything?”

Donghyuck thought about it. Mark was right. Not only minutes ago he was filing through ways on how to approach you when he sees you again. Maybe it actually was best for Mark to explain it. Maybe he could be the one to tie the knot after the general explanation. Plus, he needed to ensure that you weren’t mad at him.

“Okay… I guess you can tell her,” he mumbled.

“Great, thanks!” Mark nodded once towards Donghyuck and stood up to leave.

“Just!” Mark stopped in his tracks as Donghyuck spoke up again, “Just don’t tell her the part about my feelings… I think I’ll tell her that part.”

A small and gentle smile crept up on Mark’s face. He nodded again. “I won’t. I promise. Anything else you want me to not tell?”

Donghyuck swung his legs underneath the bench as he sunk into a brief ocean of thought, “That’s all.”

When Mark arrived at the hospital wing, you were already prepared to take in the past two weeks. Sure it was partly from Mark’s point of view, and parts of yours due to the fact you unconsciously spilled everything, but it was a good start. It could help you in leading to understand Donghyuck’s point of view.

You pushed a cup of juice towards Mark, “Tell me… well remind me in this case. They all really felt like some sort of dream.”

And Mark did. He didn’t care about any of his plans to study the new unit in muggles class, he took his sweet time to tell you everything. He started off with Donghyuck’s motif and then straight to how he spotted you and Donghyuck at the library and how he carelessly treated you like a peasant. He took pride in the fact that he was the reason that Hyuck stopped treating you like that. That he enlightened him or something. Then he started to go on about the little date you guys had at Hogsmeade, which made you blush harder than you should. He added in the time he came looking for you the day you helped Hagrid, then followed it up with the test and the results and how you brought him to the classroom to spill how he felt.

“I remember how much you were worried for him that day,” Mark followed the rim of the cup with his finger, “You said he worked really hard for that test and how he studied harder than you did. You agreed that it was unfair of Sylva to do that and I agree.”

You nodded, “I remember that day… I think it’s the day I remember the most? They didn’t feel all dream-like like the others. If that’s possible. I think my other feelings overpowered the potion somehow because I was able to drive myself a lot when I saw how defeated he looked.” You didn’t even know if that was possible, but it was true. You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach at the sight of Donghyuck’s tears, “That day and the last day? I think.” Mark continued, telling you about how the rest of the days were all pretty similar to these days and how the potion drove most of your actions, “It’s lucky how you weren’t one of those people who acted like a lunatic when they consume the potion. You were actually pretty normal aside from the beginning. But after that, it just seemed like you really liked Donghyuck like how a normal person would.

“Finally, the last day,” Mark sighed out, “I don’t have every single detail, which you should have since you said you remembered it the most next to that other day, but that necklace,” he pointed to the piece of jewelry that still hung on your neck, “He gave that to you. He didn’t tell me why but he told you, pretty it’s obvious why he did, though.”

Once he concluded, he left you to respond. It was difficult for you to find a proper response or find a way you should react. Yes, you remembered the majority of it all, but you honestly could not believe that it really happened. What are the chances that Donghyuck would choose you for the potion, when you initially wanted to be friends with him anyways.

“Are you mad at him?”

“You know what’s funny?” You asked, blankly staring at the outline of your feet underneath the sheets.

“What?”

“I’m really not that mad for some reason, when I know I should be,” you shrugged, “Sure he didn’t have my consent… but it was bold of him to do that. That’s something I wouldn’t be able to do. It’s not like he hurt me, either.”

“So you’re not mad?” he sounded surprised.

“Not really. I just want to know his side of the story now,” you responded, “And I want to do something about the fact that he’s not playing the tournament. I remember how passionate he was about that and Sylva really isn’t being fair about that situation.” You tightened the left side of your lip and huffed.

“I think he wants you to know his point of view, too,” Mark snickered at himself, “How are you going to do that?”

“Easy…” you grinned, “Just some talking will do.”

You were released from the infirmary at lunch the following day, but you chose to skip the rest of the school day for the sake of it. There really was no use in attending the classes when you already missed half of it and you used this as an excuse not to face Donghyuck yet.

If you were being quite honest, the memories that you could recall from the two week time period caused your heart to pound a certain way. You didn’t know if it was just remains of the potion still lingering in your bloodstream, but you sort of liked the idea of liking Donghyuck. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just living his life. Everyone needs someone like him in life.

You threw on your uniform and decided to lounge in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for classes to end to enact the plan. The tournament started later today, around 6pm, so you were really hoping that it would work.

The clock had struck 3 and you began to make your way down to the History of Magic classroom, otherwise known as Professor Sylva’s classroom. You really hoped that you would not run into Donghyuck for the element of surprise if this all did work. It was like a game of dodgeball as you made your way into the class.

Professor Sylva was sitting at her desk, doing paperwork as her glasses slid to the tip of her nose.

“Professor, may I please speak to you?”

She looked up and naturally over the frame of her glasses. She smiled, “One of my prized students, Y/N.” Sylva straightened her back as she gestured to one of the nearest desks for you to sit. You gladly took the one right in front of her, “I noticed you missed two classes and I hope you’re feeling better. Are you here for the work and content you’ve missed?”

“That and,” you crossed your legs, “I was hoping if you could let Donghyuck play that quidditch tournament.”

You watch as the muscles in her face contracted in ways you couldn’t even explain. It was obvious she hated Donghyuck for certain reasons, which indicated that this was going to be harder than you thought. “I simply cannot,” she replied kindly, “As you know, he cheated on that test and there is no way he is possibly going to be allowed to play sports after he’s done so.”

“All due respect with all I say… but do you have proof he cheated? Didn’t he have the highest mark on that exam?” you started arguing calmly. It was easy to support your side.

“I—” Caught. Easy. “No, I don’t have proof. I have no idea why you’re siding with this Slytherin boy, as you are a Gryffindor, but Donghyuck’s performance has been poor prior to the test. There is no chance he is able to improve in that small amount of time.”

“You have no proof he cheated, yet you claim he did. If he had the highest mark on the test, I don’t think it was possible for him to cheat and have a higher mark than that of the other students. That’s impossible,” you reason, “And having been with Donghyuck the entire week before the test, I witnessed the hard work he put into studying. He lost sleep and threatened to ruin his health just because of that exam, Professor. This is why I’m asking kindly to allow him to play.”

Professor Sylva eyed you carefully. She pulled out Donghyuck’s test answers and tests of the other high marks. You watched as her head moved back and forth between the sheets of papers. Her face began to fall in some sort of sheepish expression. “What is it, Professor?” A sly look made its way onto your face. You knew what was happening but you wanted her to you herself.

“It seems like I have… made a mistake,” she mumbled, “Very well. I’ll let him know of this change as soon as possible.”

“You owe him an apology, as well,” you pushed on.

She looked at you and nodded once before standing up. You followed her.

Meanwhile, Donghyuck was walking alongside the team as they were relaxing before the first game of the tournament against Hufflepuff. Though he wasn’t playing, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to lift up the team’s spirit before they played since this was basically his role in the team.

Yeji, who was one of the beaters, was stretching her arms as she skipped near the front of the group. She was already trash talking some of the players of the Hufflepuff team. Normally Xiaojun would’ve stopped her, as this was a habit and not a good one, but he was growing as competitive as she would be during a normal game. He found it appropriate as this tournament was actually pretty big and it included some teams from other schools. It just so happened that they had to be versing a team from their own school first.

“It’s too bad you can’t play, Hyuck,” Yeji spun around and started to walk backwards, ponytail swinging along with her, “Your aim is unmatched. No offense you guys.” The other chasers didn’t take any offense to what Yeji had said. It was true that Donghyuck was one of the better players, which was why he cared so much about the tournament. He believed they had a chance to bring the trophy home.

Before anyone else was able to speak, Donghyuck’s name was being called from one of the halls, startling the whole group. They didn’t even need to look to see who it was to know who was calling him. The rest of the team started to power walk down the hall, a chorus of goodbyes fading as the distance grew between them.

Donghyuck muttered a few profanities under his breath as Professor Sylva, all poised and proper, made her way towards him.

“Professor Sylva,” he smirked, “Come to ruin my day more than you already have?”

Sylva held herself from responding back. Instead, she held a fake smile on her face as she shook her head, “No. Not at all, Mr. Lee. This is news you would want to hear.”

Donghyuck’s head tilted to the right, “Is that so?”

“Yes,” the professor gulped, “I would like to… apologize about last week’s dilemma. I should have never accused you of cheating.”

Where is this going? He thought.

“And because this is my mistake, I am allowing you to play the quidditch tournament.”

Jaw dropping, Donghyuck gasped briefly as he jumped up to hug the professor, “Thank you! So much! I promise I’ll continue to work hard.” When he realized what he had done, he stood back and bowed to apologize.

This time, a genuine smile slowly grew on Sylva’s face, “It is really no problem. I apologize again. But you shouldn’t be thanking me.”

“Huh?”

Professor Sylva stepped aside to reveal you standing directly behind her figure with a shy expression, “Miss Y/L/N was the one who told me how hard you worked and urged me to rethink my actions. I’ll see you around, Mr. Lee.” And with that, she turned and left, disappearing down one of the corridors.

“You really did that?” He felt the beat of his heart begin lose its steady pace. It was beating out of his chest and he couldn’t help but take a step forward in order to bring himself closer to you.

You nodded and brought a playful grin up onto your lips, “You should thank me.”

“T-thank you,” he sighed out. There was a long yet comfortable silence as you looked at him. He was unable to look straight at you, eyes planted at the empty space between his and your feet, “So… Mark told you everything?”

“He told what he could,” you crossed your arms behind your back, still eyeing him closely. You were unsure if he noticed that were doing so or not, “But I remember about ninety-nine percent of it. One percent of that, you need to fulfill.”

“I-I will. But first, I want to apologize,” he mumbled, “I was stupid for... everything. I really thought all of this wouldn’t lead up to other stuff.” He reached for his chest in hopes to calm his heart.

“There wasn’t any harm so I forgive you…” you replied quietly and teetered back and forth on your feet. Another long pause.

“What blank spaces do you want me to fill?” Donghyuck finally looked up at you, making a thin line with his lips, “I’ll tell you anything. It’s the least I can do after everything.”

You begin to walk and he trailed behind you. Stopping you stopped and turned to face him, “What this is about.” You pulled out the necklace from under your dress shirt and looked at it, “It’s beautiful by the way. And that’s speaking without the intoxication of the spell..”

When you laughed, Donghyuck wasn’t able to join you. Instead he gulped in nervousness, “You still have it on?” He really thought you’d taken it off by now, mad at him or not. It’s not like he had a special place in your heart.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” You smiled and then turned back to start walking.

“I just figured that…” then he stopped himself, “Nevermind.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ll push that aside for now.” You let him, he didn’t say he wouldn’t tell you.

“I…” he let out one huge huff of air, “Initially, I thought that using this spell would be fun. I thought it’d be amusing to have someone there that was wrapped around my finger. That I could order around or something. But then Mark and Renjun both told me how that was a terrible idea. Me being… me, I seriously ignored them until I saw how hard I was working you…

“Anyways, when I stopped treating you that way and just let everything just happen… that was when… all the fun and games sort of stopped…”

“Why?” Your voice lowered. It sounded like you had done something wrong. You see Donghyuck chew on his bottom lip, trying to find a way to express how he felt at the time.

“It’s nothing bad. It’s not like I liked bossing you around… It was just my own feelings just started to feel all weird. Especially when you–uh– kissed me on the cheek for the first time. I didn’t know how to handle that sort of emotion.” Donghyuck laughed a bit.

“I thought it was just the rush of feeling that made me feel things so I ignored it at first. Then the day you brought me to that classroom, everything felt too real and I almost forgot that you were under that damn spell. That was when I realized that my feelings weren’t leaving anytime soon…

“I believed that how I felt was temporary like the spell. I denied it at first, but it didn’t take me long to accept the fact that I like you… a lot… and I know it’s not just you being under a spell that made me feel things because I swear to you, my heart is going a hundred beats a minute right now just cause of you.”

He laughed a bit at himself before he straightened himself up, ”So that—” He points to the necklace, “—I gave you that because it wouldn’t dissolve or disappear after the potion’s time ran out. Like how Cinderella’s one shoe didn’t turn back after the clock struck midnight. It reminded them both of that one night. I guess to me that necklace reminded me of these last two breathtaking weeks.” He knew how cheesy he was sounding, but he never intended to actually explain why he got it for you. He simply believed that such a gesture was special. To him at least, “And on top of all that, it’s an apology present. I remember telling you it was to say sorry and to remember.

“The reason why I was surprised you still had it on was because I thought you’d be really mad at me after what I put you through,” he explained, “B-by the way, I completely understand if you didn’t return my feelings, I-I’m sure that they will disappear.” He fixed a sad smile on his face.

The sound of your shoes echoed quietly against the walls of the seemingly endless hallway. Unbeknownst to both of you, a warm feeling had started to engulf you both from the inside out.

“I sure hope they won’t disappear,” you replied softly. Donghyuck’s head spun to your direction. You took this as his reply, “You know those dreams that make you randomly catch feelings for someone totally unexpected?”

He nods.

“The past two weeks felt like one of those, but longer and more vivid and real,” you say.

“What are you saying?” There was no way he was jumping to conclusions. Not when his feelings could be played.

“You know this whole situation really didn’t help the fact that I already was fond of you before we even talked,” you tsked. You looked at Donghyuck, who still looked confused. He didn’t seem to catch what you were saying, even if you tried to make it clear.

“I’m saying that I like you back.”

“I swear, if you’re fooling me right now,” Donghyuck couldn’t even look at you. The warmth in his cheeks caused him to grow red and the corners of his mouth stretched his lips into a smile.

“Why would I be lying,” you say seriously, “I think I actually do really like you.”

“You think?” He smirked. You elbowed him slightly, laughing, “Shut it. I do.”

Donghyuck’s confidence resurfaced when he stopped to turn and face you, “Well in that case… want to go on a real date with me this weekend?”

You couldn’t help but just admire the boy under the sunlight. Hae.

“I would love that.”

Donghyuck beamed and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Xiaojun at the mouth of the hallway, “Thirty ‘til the game! Aren’t you going to cheer us on?”

“Sylva is letting me play!” he yelled back, “I’ll explain later!”

Xiaojun’s face glowed at the news, “Then hurry and get geared up, Lee!”

“I’m coming, you can go ahead!” And with that Xiaojun nodded and left.

Donghyuck faced you again, “I-I have to go.”

“I can tell,” you laughed, “I’ll cheer you on, though.” Upon this statement, Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel even more giddy than he already was. After exchanging goodbyes, still in a shallow level of shyness, Donghyuck went to leave where Xiaojun had disappeared only a few moments before.

“Wait! Donghyuck,” you say hurriedly. He had made his way down the hallway in such a quick manner that he was already metres away from where you stood.

“Yeah?”

With tiny steps, you made your way towards him. In a swift manner, you brought yourself up to your toes and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“Good luck.”

If you made it to the end, I want to say thank you and I appreciate you soso much for reading this! If you enjoyed reading it please let me know or leave a like/reblog!

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Text

Full of Guilt

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Overdose, Mentions of Murder, Language, Suicide, Mentions of Rape Summary: Andy is being asked about his daughter who was suspected for a murder. With the questions Mr. Logiudice asks. Andy makes irrational decisions.

Author’s Note: This is full of sadness and please note about this. We all have demons and we’re all willing to shush them and fight them.

~~~

This was a few weeks after Y/N’s second trial.

Andy hadn’t reached for the glass of water on the table. He didn’t need it. But it was welcoming him to take it. His arms still fold in front of him as his head hung low over the table.

The large windows shined through the room with the gloomy sky as people whispered to his left.

Neal Logiudice stood in front of him, holding papers as he sat on the table in front of Andy’s table.

Neal looks up, “Mr. Barber, could you describe us what happened few weeks after Y/N’s arrest?”

Andy leans over and sighs, “Well, I think it started with a Sunday. Then a Monday,” Andy breathes softly, “Pretty sure a Tuesday came next.” Neal rolls his eyes as the audience chuckled a little.

He looks back, “But what I mean, Andy, is what was the atmosphere of your home? What was it after?”

“The atmosphere?” Andy asks, ready to answer stupidly again. Neal sighed, “Oh, God...”

Andy looks up, “Just make me say what you want me to say, Neal. It’s not that hard. You wanna know if Y/N seemed guilty. Have the balls to ask.” Neal looks over and drops the file on the table. “Okay. Did she?”

Andy lowers his head, “I have no idea.”

“How was Y/N feeling after? Before she...” Neal stops from there as Andy shakes his head.

“She was quiet,” Andy said, he goes back to the days, “We gotten her a tutor for those last 8 weeks, happened to be her second grade teacher. Thought it’d be less awkward.”

“Did it?” Neal asked.

Andy sighs, “A little.” Neal goes through the papers and clears his throat. “Can you tell me how she got the propofol? Did you have it around the house?” Neal asked folding the paper and placed it down.

“We didn’t have that medication in our home,” Andy replies. “But Duffy have proven to see pills in the master bathroom,” Neal said. Andy shakes his head.

“Those weren’t it, I’m sure she bought them from a friend,” Andy says. Neal nods at him, “So she had friends?” He asked. “My God, Neal-Yes, she did.”

“Was Ben Rifkin a friend to her?”

“No. From what we heard from her, no. He bullied her. The name-calling,” He said. Neal folds his hands in front of him, “Name-calling. What names?”

“I don’t know. Usual names.”

“Did he call Y/N a whore?” Neal asked, Andy looks up. He didn’t know that, but he nods, “Yes.”

“More than once?” Neal asked.

Andy looks up to Neal, “That’s my understanding.” Neal looks through his notes again and sighed.

Andy had gotten back after doing short errands for Laurie. His wife was going to work as he helped a little to grab a few things. He was texting Y/N to set up the table for dinner as he went to run those errands.

After an hour, he got back into his car and drove. He texted Laurie he was done and was heading back home. He dropped his phone in the cup holder and continued back home.

A few days after Y/N’s arrest, she wasn’t herself. She was quiet, barely ate at the table. Andy tried to crack a few jokes but she never smiled. He started to feel a bit shut out.

She surrounded herself with walls and showed no emotion since her arrest. Laurie was somewhat frustrated by that. The family was moody at home. Everyone began to shut each other out sometimes. Though, Laurie didn’t like being shut out, she always spoke to Andy.

Y/N wasn’t herself no more.

It worried him.

He got home and walked in, throwing his coat off. He walked into the kitchen and looked over to the table. It wasn’t set. “Y/N,” Andy calls, he walks over to the stairs and peaked up, “Y/N!”

He doesn’t hear her so he walks up the stairs and over to her door. He peaked in and saw her in bed. She had fallen asleep. Her head was under the blankets. Music playing softly as he sighed and closed her door.

She must’ve stayed up late so he heads down the stairs and did some dishes for Laurie.

After a few hours, Laurie had gotten home and they ate alone in the living room. Y/N was still asleep. It was so long for Y/N to be sleeping on their part. Laurie knew how hard it was for her.

They head upstairs to go into her room. Laurie comes over to Y/N’s side of the bed and sat down. “Honey?” She reaches over and Andy realizes, Y/N’s in the same position.

Laurie’s eyes widen as she tugs the blanket back and pillows were lined up to form a body.

Andy peaks down the hall, “Y/N?”

Laurie stands up, “Where is she?” Andy rushes into their bedroom and looks in his closet and the bathroom. He leaves and heads over to the hall bathroom and he turns the knob.

“This is locked,” He said, Laurie rushes over and knocks, “Y/N? Honey! Unlock the door.”

“Y/N, open the door!” Andy shouts, he slams his shoulder into the door. Laurie pulls a hand to her mouth. Andy slams his shoulder into the door again and it doesn’t budge. “God damn it,” He looks up to the top of the door frame and reaches for the small ledge to pull out a small key.

“Y/N!” Andy unlocks from the outside and barges in. Laurie gasps and Andy rushes over. “Y/N!”

Andy shook his head as he lowers it. Those sirens blaring through his mind again as he inhales shakily. Neal looks over with determination, “Has Y/N ever been threatened to kill herself?” He asked.

Andy looks up, completely angered by that. “Everywhere on social media, yes.” Neal looks over to the crowd, “Can you describe on that day you found her?”

Andy kept his head low as he spoke, “I thought she was sleeping in her bed. Around nine, we went to check up on her and she had locked herself in the bathroom.”

“Do you know how long she had been there?”

Andy shakes his head, “I left around 11 in the morning, came back at 12. I remember seeing her after I left. She must’ve been there for almost 10 hours,” He said.

“Can you describe what you saw?”

“Why would I want to describe the worst thing that could ever happen to me?” Neal shrugs at his question, “I had the balls to ask it. You should.” Andy shakes his head.

“She was... laying in the bath tub... Pills were spilled on the ground. About 5 or 6 of them.”

“Were they the propofol pills?” Neal asked. Andy nods, “Yes.”

“Did they have a name on the bottle?” Neal asked. Andy sighs, “The name wasn’t on there, it was a clean white bottle with the print of the medication.”

“What happened after you found her?”

“Oh, my god!” Laurie chokes a sob as Andy kicks the pills as he comes over to his daughter. “Laurie, call the ambulance! Call!” Laurie looks at Andy as he turns. “Honey, go!” His wife runs out of the bathroom as he quickly picks the 14-year-old up.

He grunts as he carries her down the stairs. He placed Y/N on the ground and reaches for her neck. She’s not breathing. He turns her onto her side as Laurie held the phone to her ear.

“What are you doing?” Laurie asked, Andy looks up, “Laurie, call them.”

“I am!” She covers her mouth as Andy placed his fingers under Y/N’s jaw. “Fuck...” He lays her on her back and placed his hands on her chest. “Laurie, look away,” Laurie sobs as she does and Andy immediately starts CPR.

He chokes on his sob as he pinches her nose and puffs air into her lungs. “Come on, Y/N,” He continues to press.

“Hello? Yes, I need the ambulance. Our daughter might have overdosed... Yes, he’s doing that now. Thank you... yes, I’ll leave it unlocked.” Laurie rushes over to the front door and unlocks it.

Andy groans, “Come on, Y/N!” He shouts. He puffs more air into her lungs. He started to shake above her in fear. Shock. He chokes again. “Come on! Come on!”

Laurie covers her mouth.

“Y/N!”

Neal lowers his head and picks at his nails, “The ambulance came. So what happened after that?” Andy sighs and leans forward. “After that, we stayed with Y/N.”

“The doctor’s said she was in a coma.”

Andy sighed, “Her blood levels were low and they said they could support her so much. We stood with her.”

“Why do you think Y/N did this?” Neal asked, Andy shakes his head and turns to the right. Neal lifts his head, “Andy.”

“I don’t know...Maybe because people told her to.”

“Do you think she overdosed because she knew she did it-?”

“Don’t bring that shit up, Neal. You should know what happened to her and why she had been quiet this whole fucking time.” Neal looks over the papers and folded his arms.

“Some doctors said she showed signs of sexual assault. In her phone we saw the texts from Ben Rifkin. He asked her for pictures,” Andy looks up at Neal as Neal reads the pictures printed on the paper.

“What are you saying, Neal? The pervert asked for them, she’s mostly the victim here.”

“Well, pictures are somewhat harmful but very inappropriate. But first-degree murder is something else.”

“So that means both are victims and suspects.”

“You’re saying your daughter is a guilty-?” Neal asked.

“I’m just rephrasing what you’re saying because you don’t really rephrase things after,” Andy said. Neal puts down the papers and stands up. “Describe what it was like, sitting in your daughter’s hospital room. How did it feel? How do you and Laurie feel?”

Andy laced his hands together and sighed.

“We felt like we were chained. This heavy weight pulling us down.”

“What was the weight? Guilt?”

“Full of Guilt,” Andy replies, he turns his head, “From when she was arrested, she said she wasn’t the perfect kid. But to Laurie and I, she was. She was this happy three year old running around in the house. We thought as parents it wasn’t gonna be hard. After what Y/N did, we thought it was our fault. That we weren’t there for her.”

Neal looks over to the audience who listened to the mournful man.

“Now we feel like bad parents from the beginning. Didn’t love her enough. To have everything crush at her feet.” Andy shakes his head once again.

“So yes,” Andy looks up to Neal.

“I was full of guilt.”

~~~

I’m sorry, lads! I just need to stop with the sadness.

TAGS:

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167 notes · View notes

flipomatic · 4 years

Text

Color Coordinated

Summary: Edric and Emira were born fraternal twins. Their mother couldn't control that, couldn't make them identical, but she could match their colors. She could control everything else.

Author Note: I wrote this instead of working on Internship, don’t tell anyone. This is something I’ve been mulling over since the AMA where Dana said that Odalia likes her family color coordinated.

________________________________________________________

Emira was eight years old. She didn’t have many cares in the world, besides making sure her brother didn’t hog extra time with the training wand. Her magic was just starting to develop; she needed that time too! She wasn’t sure what kind of magic she wanted to do yet, there were so many options.

Other than that, she wasn’t preoccupied by much. School was easy, Mittens was big enough to play properly now, and there was always something to do.

Today, that something to do wasn’t nearly as exciting or interesting as Emira wanted it to be. Over breakfast that morning, Mother said that they would be hosting a party in the evening. All of the most influential members of coven leadership would be there, so they needed to be on their best behavior.

Ed protested that he was always on his best behavior, which of course wasn’t true. He had lost his temper over a failed spell just the day before and hid away in his room until Mother forced him to go to dinner.

“Your best, best behavior.” Was how Mother had replied to him, emphasizing the first best. Ed said he got it now, and that he would. Emira chimed in that she did too, and Mother smiled at her.

It filled her with happiness, seeing that smile. Emira almost never got to see it.

Later in the afternoon they got ready for the party. Mother had picked outfits for all three of the kids. Mittens got to wear a green dress, one that matched Mother’s hair color. She looked adorable in it. Once Mittens’ outfit was all set, she sat down in a chair in the corner to read a book.

For Emira and Ed, they were dressed in black with dark purple accents. The suit Ed wore was nice, but didn’t match him at all and as soon as it was on he started tugging at the collar. Emira was standing on the other side of the room, where she had been admiring her dress and earrings in the mirror. She liked them, they made her feel older than she was.

“Can’t I wear something else?” Ed asked with a pout, moving to take the jacket off. Emira looked over as a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“No.” Mother spoke firmly, her hand remaining in place. “You may not. You will match with your sister tonight.” She was dressed up as well, in the purple of her coven.

For a moment Ed sagged, before he perked up with an idea. “I could match with Mittens instead!” Emira shook her head frantically at him; that had been a mistake.

As expected, Mother’s eyes narrowed, her expression darkening. “What have I said about calling your sister mittens?” Her volume had come down as she wielded the words like a weapon in his ear.

To Ed’s credit, he kept his composure. Emira wouldn’t have been able to. “To not do it. I’m sorry.” His expression hardened as he locked in his emotions, since showing weakness would only bring more scolding.

“Good.” Mother released his shoulder and straightened up. “The answer is still no. Your outfit matches wonderfully with Emira’s. Come here darling.” She addressed the last sentence to Emira, who was still watching from a healthy distance.

Emira approached as directed, stopping in front of her mother. “It’s not that bad.” She looked Ed over from head to toe. It wasn’t that big of a deal that they matched.

“Thanks…” Ed muttered in reply.

“The two of you look splendid together.” Mother grasped her hands together as she looked between them. “Guest are arriving in an hour; I’ll come fetch you when it’s time.”

Mother left a minute later, leaving the kids to their own devices. Immediately Ed flopped down onto the ground, arms and legs crossed. “Can’t believe this.” He grumbled.

Emira leaned over to better talk with him, but didn’t join him on the floor. Her new dress would get dirty if she did. “You’ll survive; it’s just for one night.”

“I’m gonna die.” Ed countered, flopping his feet forward.

Emira just shook her head. “You won’t.”

He collapsed back onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling. “We’ll see.” He said, before closing his eyes. Emira rolled hers, then stepped around him to check on Mittens. She was still reading, undisturbed by the commotion around her.

Watching Mittens read was boring, so Emira left her alone and got a deck of cards. She had just learned how to make card houses from one of her friends, so that’s what she started to do. When Ed noticed, he joined her. He seemed to enjoy knocking the cards down more than building them up though, so she banished him to build his card house on a different table.

An hour later, Mother came back to get them. She fixed Ed’s hair, which had been ruffled when he lied on the ground, and scolded him for messing it up. Then she took the three kids to the party.

It was being held in the ballroom of the house, which Emira almost never went to. On most days, it was off limits. The huge room had a high ceiling with chandeliers. When Mother led the kids in, there were already a few witches inside. All of them were in fancy clothes, some even fancier than what Mother was wearing. Many of them glanced over to see who had entered, but looked away when they saw who it was.

Mother took Mittens’ hand in hers. “You’ll be staying with me.” She said to her youngest daughter, before turning to the twins. “Stick together, only speak when spoken to. Remember, your best, best behavior.”

“Yes Mother.” Emira responded for both of them; she knew Ed wasn’t in the mood to.

“Your Father and I will be around, if you need us.”

With that, Mother walked away with Mittens in tow. This left the twins free to wander the party.

“Where’s the food? I’m starving.” Was the first thing out of Ed’s mouth. He lifted a hand to use as a visor as he looked around, trying to spot something to eat. Emira looked around too, until she spotted a table with some small food items on it.

“Over there.” She pointed, drawing Ed’s eyes in that direction.

“Score.” He said, immediately starting to walk that way. Emira trailed after him, and then joined him in making a plate of appetizers. They were almost too short to reach the table properly, but the tongs helped them still grab far away food.

With food acquired, they walked around and ate. It was pretty good food, though Emira didn’t know what half of it was.

They had walked about half way around the room when an adult called their names.

“Edric, Emira? You’ve grown so big I almost didn’t recognize you.” A witch, who was standing with a small group of other adults, was calling to them. “Come over here, let me get a good look at you.”

Emira glanced at Ed, who was looking at her. They didn’t have much of a choice. Mother wouldn’t approve of avoiding guests.

The twins walked over to the witch, looking up at her beaming face. She had a full necklace of pearls around her neck.

“Oh, you two are so adorable in those matching outfits!” The witch practically cooed over them, with a drink in one hand. “How old are you now?”

“Eight!” Ed was always excited to share his age when asked.

“I swear they grow up so fast these days.” The witch chuckled, and then introduced the other witches with her. They included a coven leader, along with a few higher ranking members of other covens. Emira couldn’t be bothered to remember or even listen to their names.

After a few minutes, the witch freed them from the conversation. The twins moved on to continue walking, but were soon trapped in a similar situation again.

Throughout the evening, they engaged in many of these forced conversations. They were complemented on how much they looked like their mother, on their developing magic, and how well their outfits matched.

When the twins were dismissed to go to bed, the event was still in full swing. Mittens was sent upstairs with them, so they could put her to bed.

As soon as they were out of the ballroom, Ed took off the suit jacket.

______________________________________________________

Emira was eleven years old. She had quite a bit more to worry about than she had when she was eight, most important of which was what track she wanted to join at Hexside.

Since the new school year had just started, witches in her grade had to pick which pre-track to join. This would determine their track in a few years, and then their coven when they graduated. It was a big choice, one Emira was excited to make.

At school, they spent the whole first month of the year learning about the different tracks. At the end of the unit, each student received a pamphlet to take home. All of the tracks were listed inside, along with information about the kind of magic they learned and careers in the covens. Both Emira and Ed got one.

When the twins got home, they sat down in the kitchen to read it over. Mittens asked if she could read one too, so Emira told her she could have it after a decision was made.

Then Mother got home from work. When she saw what pamphlets they were reading, she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Is it that time already?” She asked, speaking again before Emira could reply. “Hand it over.” She held out an open palm, expectantly.

Ed gave her his without a word, but Emira hesitated. “We need these to pick a track?” It wasn’t intended as a question, but it sounded like one coming out of her mouth.

Mother frowned sharply. “Not these ones.” She said simply. “Don’t question me.”

“I’m sorry.” Emira complied, passing her the pamphlet. She would have to apologize to Mittens later, since she wouldn’t be able to read it.

“Thank you.” Mother flipped through a few pages of the pamphlet, before saying she’d be right back. She vanished into the house, returning a minute later. She was still carrying paper, but it looked completely different that the pamphlets Emira and Ed had given her.

“Here, choose your track from these.” Mother gave each of them a new handout, which consisted of about 10 sheets of paper stapled in the corner. “Let me know when you come to an agreement.”

She wanted them to join the same track? Emira would’ve asked for clarification, but she’d just been instructed not to question Mother.

That didn’t stop Ed though. “Agreement?” He repeated the word, confused.

“Yes. Agreement. If you don’t, I will choose for you.” Mother’s response didn’t really answer the question. Regardless, she then left them in the kitchen, having to go talk with Father.

Emira looked at the new handout. It was printed on regular paper, in black and white. The cover said “Blight Track Guide” in bold letters.

When Emira flipped to the next page, she could see that it featured a lot less tracks than the pamphlet she got from school. In fact, there were only three options in this one: illusions, abomination, or oracle.

This was not a lot of choices. Across the table, Ed was balking at the paper.

“What track are you thinking?” Emira asked, with the fact that they would have to pick the same one weighing over the question.

“I wanted to do beast keeping.” Ed frowned, flipping quickly through the handout. “Looks like that’s out.”

Emira sighed. “Yeah, Mother won’t approve of it.”

Ed threw the papers onto the table. “I don’t care then, let’s just pick at random.” He crossed his arms, glaring at the offending handout. He probably didn’t mean that.

Emira looked back down at hers. “I don’t know.” She said, flipping to the next page. “What about illusions?” That had been one of her preferred choices from the start.

“Hmm.” Ed mulled it over, tilting his head from side to side. “I don’t hate it.” He declared after a few seconds. “But I don’t like it either.”

“It could be fun.” Even though Ed said he didn’t hate it, Emira still tried to convince him a little. “Plus, according to this it’s the most versatile of all the tracks.” She poked her papers insistently.

Ed slowly picked his handout back up, flipping to the same page Emira was reading from. “Yeah, fine whatever.” He said, though he was actually reading the information now.

Emira kept reading the handout, taking notice of the information about potential careers for each track. It was very different than the ones in the previous pamphlet. The papers from the school had focused on a wide variety of jobs for each coven, while these ones only listed high ranking coven positions.

The two ended up sticking with illusions. So that was settled, though it wasn’t a decision either of them was truly happy with at the time.

Mother though, when the twins told her, was thrilled. She told them how impressed she was that they were able to decide, and how good they were going to look in their matching blue sleeves.

_________________________________________________________

Emira was fourteen years old. She mostly ignored her worries, as that was a great way to remove them. Sure, nothing was actually solved that way, but she no longer had to be concerned with them. It was easier to run.

In school, to avoid her problem of being bored out of her mind, Emira often cut class. As it turned out, the illusion track had been a great choice. It was easy to leave illusions in her place, ones the teacher couldn’t see through, and roam the school. Ed cut class with her; it was boring to wander the halls alone. Sometimes they even snuck out of school, but that was hard to pull off.

They were almost never caught. Only their best illusions teachers could see through the mirage, so once they learned who couldn’t be fooled they had to stop skipping those classes. Other teachers though, especially the ones for shared subjects, were much easier to trick.

Even when the twins did get caught, their punishment was light. Principal Bump would send them back to class, with the only punishment being a call home to their parents.

Emira doubted that he actually made those calls, since Mother never mentioned the few incidents to her or Ed.

Today was one such day. Emira had sent an illusion clone to class for her, with instructions to take notes so she would have them later. Unfortunately, this spell took more magic to keep up so she couldn’t do any other spells. When she and Ed were spotted in the stairwell by another teacher, there was nowhere to hide.

The teacher took them to the principal’s office, where they were seated in front of Principal Bump.

“What am I going to do with you two?” He asked, eyes flicking from Emira to Ed.

“I think-“ Ed started to say, but Principal Bump interrupted him.

“That was a rhetorical question.” Principal Bump maintained his usual calm tone. He reached for his office phone, lifting the receiver to his ear and dialing a number. Emira assumed it was ringing, though she couldn’t hear it.

“Hi, Odalia do you have a minute?” Oh, that was Mother’s name. A chill ran down Emira’s spine as she glanced over at Ed. He had turned pale. “I’m sitting here with your twins, caught them in the halls during class again.” He paused for a moment to listen. “No. No. Alright, have a nice day.” Principal Bump hung up the phone.

He looked at it for a few seconds, mouth in a straight line, then turned to the twins. “Get back to class. Your teachers are expecting you.”

Emira couldn’t bring herself to feel happy about being released, not after hearing that phone call. She had to yank Ed to his feet to get him out of the office. They walked slowly back to their classes, dreading what would happen when they went home. Mother was going to be furious.

When she got home later, Emira had decided to not bring up the events at all. She hoped that if she didn’t talk about it, then it wouldn’t come up and maybe Mother would just forget about it. She got Ed on board with that idea, albeit reluctantly. He said there was no way it would work, and that it would be better to just tear off the bandaid. Emira disagreed; the bandaid could be ripped off later.

Much to both of their shock, Mother didn’t bring up the call from school when she got home. She didn’t mention it at dinner either, and Emira had to elbow Ed to remind him not to. The evening passed without incident, without mention.

Emira wondered if Principal Bump actually had been calling home, with this as the true result. Why wasn’t Mother upset with them?

Ed counted it as a blessing and said he didn’t want to know. Emira was curious though, but she didn’t want to bring up the subject.

A week later, the Blight Family was getting ready to hold a party. They held a few a year, to bring the most powerful witches together under their roof. Emira and Ed had been attending them since they were very young.

Mother had picked out white and blue accented outfits for them to wear, which they were required to do without questions. Emira put hers on a couple hours before the party; she wished it was accented with green instead.

Well, with an illusion spell she could make that happen. She’d been getting very good at casting illusions, especially simple ones. This kind of spell, just to change the color of a small part of the dress, wouldn’t take much effort to maintain.

Emira tried it out in her room, casting the spell carefully. It had the intended effect, changing the accents green instead of blue. It didn’t look as good as it would’ve if they were naturally that color, but it was better than the blue. She let the spell fade for the time being.

When the party started, Emira recast the spell before heading down. Ed was waiting for her in the hallway, not wanting to go into the party alone. He raised an eyebrow when he saw her. “I like what you’ve done with it.” Was what he settled on.

“Thanks.” Emira brushed her hands over the dress, smoothing it. The illusion held under her touch.

They went downstairs to the party together. Mittens was already there, staring at Emperor’s Coven members with wide eyes. She didn’t notice their arrival, but somebody else did.

The twins barely made it ten steps into the ballroom when Mother materialized next to them.

“Emira, dear.” Her voice was like ice in Emira’s ear. “Please speak with me in the hall.” Her tone was polite, but carried distinct displeasure. Uh oh.

Ed was allowed to continue into the room, while Emira had to follow Mother out to the hallway. They continued to one of the study rooms, where Mother shut the door behind them.

“You will disable that illusion spell immediately.” Mother said as soon as the door was shut.

“I think it looks nice like this.” Emira liked the way the dress looked now.

Mother spoke firmly, each word clear and low. “It does not matter what you think.”

Emira crossed her arms. “I think it does.” She insisted. She was tired of always matching Ed; it was nice to wear something different.

Mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly. When she was done she reopened them, still narrowed sharply. “Why do you think Principal Bump doesn’t punish you for skipping class?” She changed the subject abruptly, throwing Emira off balance.

“I’m not sure.” Emira replied, trying to think of a reason. “Probably because my grades are good.” She was in the top quarter of her class.

“Wrong.” Mother started walking slowly, tracing a half circle around Emira. “It’s because I ask him to. It is by my good graces that you stay out of detention, or worse, and yet you dare to defy my wishes.” She was behind Emira now, her voice causing the back of Emira’s neck to tingle. “I don’t have to protect you.”

So she was interfering at school, likely to maintain the family reputation but also to set up this exact situation. To gain leverage over her eldest children, like she had been their whole lives. It had taken a while, but Emira was starting to catch on.

In the moment, Emira had no choice. “I understand.” She said, dropping the illusion spell.

Mother finished walking around her, examining the dress that was now in its original state. “Wonderful.” She said, with all of the hardness in her expression slipping away to be replaced with a small smile.

Emira no longer felt warmth at that smile, only bitterness.

Mother led her back to the party, dropping her off with Ed.

“You lived.” He commented once Mother left them alone.

“Barely.” Emira muttered under her breath in reply.

He offered her a plate of appetizers. That helped.

________________________________________________________

Emira was sixteen years old. Her stresses had increased over the last couple years, though pranks helped her cope with them. They were harmless pranks, just for fun.

When she turned eighteen and joined a coven after graduating, she planned to move out of the Blight Manor. She’d talked about it with Ed, and he was in too. They could rent a place together, at least to start.

Anything would be better than living under the roof with their parents.

As an act of rebellion, they decided to dye the tips of their hair a darker shade of green. Mittens helped them pick the color. This was in protest of Mother, of her control over their lives.

Of course, even in protest they still matched. That dark green was still color coordinated.

#the owl house #the owl house fanfiction #emira blight #edric blight #odalia blight #manipulation #odalia is a bad parent #character study #in retrospect this is depressing #but I think it turned out well #flip writes

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hoboal87 · 4 years

Text

Elastic Heart Chapter One

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, OFCs

Pairing(s): None

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N sees a familiar set of eyes in the crowd, and remembers the first time she saw them and how they changed her life.

Word Count: 4300+

Warnings: Show level violence, cursing, pre-Stanford era Winchesters

Notes: Series will be mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. Also, for purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

Please give a comment or reblog and let me know what you think!

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Chapter One - Senior Year

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N”

I don’t hear my name being called, I’m in my own world, looking out into the crowd for a set of familiar eyes. I spot them three rows back and smile. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and I miss the days where I would see those eyes nearly every day.

Life as a nursing student consists of going to class, lab work, interning at a hospital, and occasionally sleeping. I’ve spent the past two years doing nothing but that. I’ve always been one to do things early, but this was the one thing that, for once, I was on par with my peers. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. From the first time I saw those eyes, they altered my life, sending me down a path that I never planned to be on. Taking longer than we had thought, but eventually, I got back on track.

Finish school and get my fresh start. That had been my goal for the past two years. Move on, with or without those eyes in my life. I wanted them, but I knew that logically, it couldn’t happen. Our lives were too different, especially now. I lost my chance of having them with me always; now, I could only cherish the holidays and long weekends that allowed us to be together.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” the announcer’s voice contains a bit of urgency this time, drawing my attention. I step across the stage, shaking my supervisor’s hand, and receive my metaphorical diploma. I look back out into the audience and connect with those eyes again, wide and filled with joy. I take my seat and think back to the first time I saw them and how they changed my life forever.

Fall, 2002

This was it, the first day of my senior year. This is the year I will prove to everyone that I am no longer a kid. This is the year, mom and dad will see that I can act like an adult and make ‘good choices’ but, I’m determined to have just a little fun.

For the last two years, mom and dad have insisted that I take extra courses and go to summer school to ensure I graduate not only with good grades but early. I’ll graduate in the spring and be off to college in the fall. All I really want is to wait, take a year or two, experience life outside of my parents’ house.

I make the point to do as many high school activities as I can. Activities that they discouraged me from doing for the last two years; choir, volleyball, anything that will get me out of the house but still considered a school activity. I joined the decorating committee, wanting to participate in homecoming as much as possible. I know as long as I do nothing life-altering, I’m gonna be free in May.

“Be mindful of your grades, Y/N,” dad said, reading over all the consent forms, “if they slip, you will need to cut these extracurricular activities.”

“They won’t slip, dad.” I roll my eyes. “It’s my last year, let me have a bit of fun, please?”

“Your average drops below an A, and I’m pulling you out of each one of these clubs, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I mull over telling him the other part of my plan. “I was… thinking about getting a job.” I look down, not wanting to make eye contact. “Something part-time?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Y/N,” mom enters the room, “You’re going to be so busy already, tell her Rob.”

“Your mother has a point, and if they accept you to all these clubs, when will you even have time?”

“I may not even end up in the choir or the volleyball team,” I argue, “and if I don’t I’ll have a free period every day, I can talk to the counselor about making it my last class and—it’s my Senior Year, please, don’t you guys think I deserve a little more credit than this? I should get to experience a little bit of independence, don’t you think? I’m gonna be away at college in a year, I’m probably gonna have some on-campus job, I need to learn how to balance between the two.” I catch my breath, hoping that they will agree.

“Fine,” dad sighs heavily, “the same deal goes. Your grades slip, no more working. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes!” I throw my arms around him, “Thank you!”

“Maybe you could get a job at the clinic,” mom chimes in, “get some experience in the field?”

“I don’t think anyone wants a sixteen-year-old working at the clinic, Sarah. Maybe at the drugstore, though?”

“Yeah,” I sit on the couch, “maybe.”

I discreetly start looking at apartments that could be for rent after graduation. I look on the outskirts of town and find a garage apartment that a very sweet older lady agrees to rent to me if it is still unoccupied over the summer. Finding a job gets put on the back burner as the school year moves into full swing. It turns out I can’t sing, and I suck at volleyball, but the coach offers me the position of manager, allowing me to still participate with the team at pep rallies and travel with them on away games. As the season comes to a close, and with Thanksgiving break around the corner, I decide it’s time to actively look for a job.

The trouble is finding someone willing to hire a 16-year-old high school student with no experience. I try some local retail stores, but I know that mom and dad will never go for the hours they want me to work. I walk into Joe’s Burgers, my favorite place to get some dinner and continue looking through the classifieds.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” I look over and wave to the man behind the counter.

“Hey, Dan, can I get a Bacon—"

“Your usual?” he cuts me off, smiling.

“Yes, please,” I look down sheepishly, handing him the exact amount of money without being told the total.

“Whatcha got there?” he nods towards the paper that’s now on the counter as he hands me my receipt.

“Oh, I’m just looking for a job,” I tuck the paper under my arms. “Need to earn some money so I can get outta this town after graduation.”

“What’s wrong with the town,” his face grows serious, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Shit—I mean, n-nothing. Fuck."

“Y/N/N!” Dan bursts into laughter, “I’m just messing with you! You think you’re the first person who hates living here? We’re a small-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I say, relieved, “I’ll be in my spot, okay?” He tries to contain his laughter as I walk away, making my way to my usual table. I flip through the pages, seeing nothing that would really work for me.

“You know Joe has been talking about hiring another cashier,” Dan says, bringing my food over, “and you’re practically here all the time anyway, you may as well make some money while you’re at it. You want me to talk to him?”

“Really? Do you think he’d hire me? I can’t stay late on week-nights because of school, mom and dad would kill me.”

“Yeah, we need someone to work the register, Jana can’t do it all herself. Whaddya think?”

“Oh, my god Dan, that would be amazing!” I get up and throw my arms around him to give him a hug. I watch as Dan walks to the back of the restaurant, after a few minutes he returns, giving me the thumbs-up. Before I leave, he gives me paperwork to fill out and a uniform, telling me to return the next day for training.

For three days, I train, working with Jana on the register. She is a few years older than me, with absolutely no filter. She always has me hunched over, laughing at something she has said or done. The lunches are busier than usual with the break. On Friday, she decides it’s time to leave me on my own, ‘best way to learn,’ she quips.

I’ve never been a social butterfly, and the thought of having to deal with customers on my own genuinely terrifies me for a few moments. After giving myself a small pep talk, I turn around to see three large men waiting for me.

The shortest of the three looks at me, and leans over the counter, “I’m here, what are your other two wishes?” he asks, flashing me a wink.

“I’m sorry?” I can’t believe this guy is serious.

“My brother and I were wondering,” he gestures to the tallest of the three, “if it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“W-what?” I feel the heat pooling in my cheeks.

“Dean, knock it off, we’re here to work.” the older man behind him smacks him upside his head, and I have to stifle my laughter. He offers a sympathetic smile toward me.

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” I shot back; it was the only thing I could think of, albeit an awful comeback.

“It’s okay, just blink if you want me,” I stare straight into those green eyes for a solid 10 seconds before turning away.

“Dean, leave the girl alone, how old are you doll?” he asks, turning to me.

“Sixteen,” I say, watching as he rolls his eyes at the other two.

“See, are you trying to go to jail, son?” he says, looking at me apologetically “I’m sorry my sons are two walking hormones.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” the tall one huffs. Green-eyes shrugs and rubs the back of his head.

“Don’t even Sam, I heard you when we walked in.” Their dad grabs them by the shirts and drags them both to stand in front of me. I couldn’t believe my eyes, this man grabbing his two grown sons like they were pre-teens, “Now apologize to…” he looks at my name tag, “… Y/N.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to offend you,” Green-eyes says insincerely.

“That’s fine, it’s part of the job, learning to deal with frat boys who love to mess with townies,” I smile back curtly.

“What the fu—” green-eyes is clearly trying to contain his anger, but his dad chuckles at the remark, and his brother can hardly control himself.

“Yeah, frat boy, don’t mess with the townie,” the younger one laughs, pushing his shaggy brown hair away from his face, revealing gleaming hazel eyes flecked with hints of green and blue surrounded by dark full lashes.

“Listen, Y/N,” green-eyes looks at my name tag again, “we ain’t no frat boys, in fact, we’re here becau—”

“All right, Dean, that’s enough.” His dad gives him a stern look that is clearly a silent conversation. “Since we’re off to such a wonderful start, let’s start over, yeah?”

I nod politely. These guys are clearly passing through and will be gone in a matter of hours or days, but Joe wants us to make all people, even the ones we’ll probably never see again, feel welcome.

“I’m John, you already know Dean,” he reaches his hand out towards the tall one, “and this is Sam. We’re actually looking into the recent animal-related deaths,” he says, producing a Fish and Wildlife Badge. I study it for a moment before handing it back. “We’re interviewing some of the local business owners and residents in the area of the attacks. Have you heard or seen anything usual, smelled anything weird, anything that comes to mind?”

“Oh.” I look at the three men; here I was being a bitch to the people trying to help. “Um, I just started working here a few days ago, animal attacks?” I look back up to John, who nods. “The only animals around here are coyotes, but even they’re pretty rare. I haven’t heard anything, but I keep to myself. Joe might know something, he’s the owner and knows everything about everyone.” I offer a smile.

“Is Joe in today?” John asks. His grey eyes hold so much pain as he looks at me.

“Um… yeah. He may have a few minutes now that we’ve slowed down. I can see if he can come talk to you?”

“That’d be great, thanks, Y/N.”

“Please, Y/N/N,” I say, blushing, covering my nametag, “No one really calls me Y/N.”

“Y/N/N,” he repeats, “I’d really like to speak with Joe if it’s not a problem.”

“Yeah, shit. Let me go get him,” I say, walking towards the back. “Hey Jana, I’m gonna go get Joe. Watch the register?”

“I got it,” she hollers back.

“Dude! She’s 16!” I hear who I assume is Sam whispering loudly. “Shut up! How was I supposed to know that?!”

“Dean, she’s obviously not 18. Stick to girls your own age,” John responds. “Sammy—.”

I can no longer hear the men as I reach the door to Joe’s office. Jana and Dan had both told me that his door usually stayed open, today it was not only closed, but it was locked as well. I knock, waiting for him to answer. He looks a little frazzled when he opens the door, but smiles at me, “Hey, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

“There’s a guy from Fish and Wildlife; he’s looking into the recent animal attacks? He’s asking about strange occurrences or something? I don’t know, but I know you pay attention to that kind of stuff, so he wants to talk to you.”

“I—shit, yeah, let him know I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he straightens his shirt and closes the door behind him.

I nod and head back to the front of the building. I watch as the boys and their father seem to be in deep discussion. Turning away when I realize Dean has caught me staring. I gather their food, and as I walk towards their table, I can hear that for some reason, I am the current topic of discussion, specifically, my age.

“Actually, I’ll be 17 in a month,” I quip, dropping their food, unsure of why I am engaging with this odd group of men.

“Huh?” Dean looks at me curiously.

“Well, for some reason the two of you are overly concerned with my age, I’ll be 17 next month.”

“Still illegal, Dean,” Sam smirks.

“Yeah, but right up your alley, Sammy,” Dean winks at him.

“Boys, stop treating this girl like she’s a piece of meat,” their father doesn’t even look up from his plate.

I can’t help myself, I’m usually not this brazen, but something about these outsiders coming in, I have to say it, “Well, here in the Great State of Texas the age of consent is 17, it’s not technically illegal,” and before I can stop myself I wink at Dean.

“Oh, Y/N, you are killing me here,” he says, bringing his hand to his chest. “Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to pass, but Sammy here,” Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders, “may be able to help you out.”

Sam blushes furiously; it’s actually adorable. I can feel the heat coming up in my own cheeks, and know if I stay any longer, they will see it very clearly.

“Joe’ll be out in a few minutes,” I say, turning to go back to the register. I walk away, adding a little sway in my hips as I know the younger men are watching. “Lemme know if there’s anything else I can get you,” I shoot another wink, this time in Sam’s direction.

“Thanks, Y/N/N.” John’s baritone voice carries through the restaurant.

I watch Joe take a seat with the three men, the younger boys listening and observing their father very carefully. I watch John grab something—a fork?— out of his pocket and discreetly place it in front of Joe. Why would he do such a thing? Joe and the men continue to speak for 10 minutes until the dinner rush starts, and Joe excuses himself.

The three men finish their burgers and leave the restaurant; concern etched on their faces as they have a heated conversation.

Throughout the dinner rush, I notice that Sam is stationed outside of the building. It looks as though he’s watching somebody. But every time I look up, his position has changed. After it grows dark, I can no longer see him outside; I realize I shouldn’t let him occupy my mind. Jana and I work furiously until a few hours later when we finally close.

“First day on your own,” Jana says, letting her hair down and hopping onto the counter. “You did good Y/N/N, only a couple mistakes.”

“Thanks, it’s not always gonna be like that, right?” I say, sighing, mimicking her actions with my own hair.

“Nah, I mean, the Friday and Saturdays will be, but unless it’s a school break, the nights are not usually too crazy,” she reassures me.

“Thank God,” I laugh, “what about the customers? Did you see those guys earlier? The ones talking to Joe?” I ask, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that I am blushing at the mention of the men.

“Oh, you mean the green-eyed one who was clearly hitting on you?” She smirks at me, “With the older guy and the really tall guy?”

“Yeah… you have an excellent memory…” I laugh, “he was so cheesy. ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” I mock him. “I mean, he can’t think girls really fall for that? Even the tall one knew it was a bad line.” I blushed a little, thinking about them.

“Oh my god, you like him, green-eyes.” She gasps, “You wanna jump his bones,” she sang mockingly at me, “you love him!”

“Shut up,” I threw my apron at her playfully, “I do not want to jump his bones. Besides, I’m jailbait. He’s at least 21 or so.” Jana raises her eyebrow at me. “He basically told me he couldn’t.”

“So… you’re saying you would if he was younger?” she giggles.

“Jana! No! He’s not my type. He’s way too cocky—he probably thinks he’s God’s Gift to Women,” I mock him again.

“What about the tall one? He was gorgeous,” she offers, “And the dad? He’s hot, like I will so call him Daddy. Let him just—."

“That’s way too much information, Jana. Anyway, if green-eyes is too old, how on earth is the dad not even more wrong?”

“That’s what makes it so hot… like, the wrongness of it…” she says mock fanning herself. “Okay, so clearly, the giant is the one you’re gonna have to do. You can just climb on top—" she says, moving her whole body onto the counter, “and take him for a ride.”

“Jesus, Jana.” I try to suppress my embarrassed laughter. But I blush furiously at the thought of Sam, especially with the image that Jana just planted in my head. I cover my face with my hands as I try to compose myself.

“Oh my god, you are so red!” Jana laughs, “It’s the giant! He’s the one you lo-ove!”

“I don’t even know him! They’re just passing through. You know the type, no one actually moves here. Not for real, at least. They’ll be gone in a week.”

“Y/N/N, that’s why it’s perfect. Hook up, get all that pent-up frustration out of your system, and then you’ll go your separate ways,” she offers. “Wham-bam-thank you-ma’am.”

“I’m really not into that one-night stand stuff,” I say, “I mean, what’s the point?”

“Come on, Y/N/N, that’s the point. Sometimes you just need a release. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with some guy you just met and hook-up with once. I mean, you’ve hooked up with guys before, right?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Oh, my God. Y/N/N, you’re not a virgin, are you?” she whispers so that Dan and Joe won’t hear. I nod, I didn’t have a problem with my own virginity, but other people did. I know I have plenty of time. And with how busy mom and dad keep me, I have no time for boys. “Oh, okay, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know. Besides, mom and dad don’t even like the thought of me dating; they’d make the guy ask for permission. It’s not that I would ever have time for it anyway. Either way, it’ll happen whenever it happens, and it will probably not be great the first time,” I laugh, trying to break the serious look on Jana’s face. “I have very low expectations, especially if he’s never done anything either. Most boys my age don’t know what they’re doing anyway.”

“Not to be all romantic or whatever, but you know it doesn’t have to be like that. Your first time doesn’t have to suck. It can be really nice if you get the right person.”

“I figure it will either be awesome or okay,” I laugh, “hope it’s awesome, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Okay, I’m gonna have one more mom moment with you, and then we can leave, okay?” she grows slightly serious, and I nod my head. “Bring condoms.” I choke out a laugh. “I’m serious. Don’t count on the guy to do it. And don’t trust the ‘pull-out’ method. Dudes always think they can time it right, and half the time…” she makes a gesture I don’t quite understand, I look at her confused. “Inside. Or at least not all the way out. And I’m sure getting pregnant isn’t a part of your grand plan.” She smiles softly. “If you ever need someone to talk about this stuff with, you can come to me, okay?”

“Thank you, if and when the day ever comes, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She raises her eyebrow. “I swear. Don’t count on it being anytime soon, though.”

Jana finishes counting the tips, and I count the register. We grab our bags, say goodbye to Dan, who’s still closing down, and Joe, who’s in the office looking at receipts.

Jana and I live about a block away from each other, and close enough to the restaurant that neither of us bothered driving. Every week it’s getting colder, and I know by the first week of December it will be too cold to walk home at night. But until then, Jana and I walk together, her house off of the main road that leads to mine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you all the way home?” Jana asks as we reach her street.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Then you’ll have to walk back by yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’m prepared.” She pulls mace and a small knife that’s attached to her keychain out. “If someone or something tries to get me, stab stab.”

“Jesus, Jana,” I laugh out of shock. “No, I’ll be fine, how about tomorrow before work I get me one of those and then I’ll be prepared as well.”

“Fine, but call me when you get home,” she jots a number down and waves goodbye, “I’m serious Y/N/N, call me. If you don’t, I will call your parents.”

“I will,” I yell, turning back to head home.

I feel that I’m being followed. Paranoid, I know. I swear I can hear footsteps behind me, but every time I turn around, there’s nothing there. Freaking Jana, this is her fault. I’ve never had issues walking home at night before, but now I’m hearing things that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t put “I’m prepared,” in my head, now feeling like a taunt. I’m less than 5 minutes away from my house; what could possibly happen?

I hear a growling, something inhuman; it grows louder as I try to will myself to move faster. I turn the corner, and that’s when it happens, someone, something, jumps out of nowhere and starts running towards me. I try to run, but my legs won’t move, “fuck.”

I hear yelling, but I still can’t move, the creature is getting closer to me, and I get a good look at it. Claws, it has fucking claws. Its eyes are yellow, and its teeth are huge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a werewolf. But werewolves don’t exist. This must be the creature that John was looking for.

‘It’s some kind of rare species of bear,’ I tell myself, ‘a bear.’

It’s only about a foot away from me; it looks like something out of a horror movie. It’s on its hind legs, unnatural noises leave its body, and before I can even move, it's swiping at me. All I can do is close my eyes and pray it doesn't kill me. A loud bang forces my eyes open, I stand there, still unable to move. I look up to see a set of familiar eyes before me, ones I hadn’t expected to see ever again. Sam.

Chapter 2

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fic #Elastic Heart #Elastic Heart 1

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Pt.1

I did it! I posted it "today" (at least in my timezone)! Unfortunately, I don't know how to SHUT THE F*** UP, so this will need to be two parts. I'm sorry about that, but I hope you still enjoy!

Warm. He felt too warm, kicking off the blankets, panting as he tried to cool down. A function he rarely uses activates, water coating his skin, sweating. The heat was the least of his problems. Every joint, synthetic muscle, even every wire that compiled his nervous system hurt. A throbbing pain that won't leave him alone.

He was a fool.

Connor should have stayed home. Fowler had even offered him paid leave until a firewall or antivirus was created, but he was an advanced android. He had far more advanced security measures than the average android. Only Nines could match it. So many androids are under a Stay-At-Home order, but both RKs are considered essential workers, and they were happy to continue to keep the peace. He was so sure he couldn't be infected.

Two rookies had gone to break up a public meeting of androids at a park. They ended up arresting one on assault of an officer. What the rookies failed to do was announce that they had an android in custody. The virus spreads by forcing wireless connection, passing it when an infected android comes within 10ft of another android. For this reason, any androids brought into custody needed to be announced so any android personnel could vacate to the area.

Connor, both unfortunate and fortunate, was the only android in the bullpen when they walked by. A flash of code, followed by a buzzing sensation was his only warning, which was more warning than any other android received. When the rookies locked the android in a quarantine cell downstairs, Connor reprimanded the two officers, writing them up and sending the information for Capt. Fowler to review, along with a note that he needed to enter quarantine himself, as a precaution. He still believed that he would be fine. His programming will destroy it.

Fowler agreed, allowing him to go home once he was tested positive by the technician on duty, aka you. He immediately headed to the android repair ward, which you deemed a "glorified nurse's office". Before he entered, he informed you he was on his way, receiving the go-ahead that no other androids were there.

"Oh my god, Connor! Not you too!" You exclaimed. You were moving frantically, your hair out of place. With three of the five technicians working in the precinct being androids, you have been kept exceedingly busy, sleeping in shifts with the other technician, Cleon, on the small couch in your office. You've been pressing the department to hire more help, but they are slow-moving with your requests.

He watched as you sent a report, grabbed a device, answered a call, jotted down an address, before moving back to him.

"Open up, " you requested, and he revealed the port on the nape of his neck. You hastily shoved the wire from the appliance in your hand into his port, making him wince. You didn't notice as you shoved the device in his hands and went about re-filling an emergency repair bag, adding cold compresses and thirium you had stored in a freezer. After a few minutes, the device beeped twice and you yanked the cord out of his neck. He grunted, rubbing at his poor, abused port. You looked at the screen and finally froze. You read over the data several times, hoping you were reading it wrong.

"Shit... Dammit! Fuck!" You cursed. Connor surmised that it was not good, but you have yet to address him. Instead, you took the note and the bag, going into your office and tossing the bag on Cleon's stomach, making him jump. "Take care of this, please, " you call to him before grabbing a stack of papers from your desk and leaving the office and the repair ward completely.

Connor got up and went to the door, watching you march into Fowler's office. Cleon squeezed past him, still very much asleep and probably cursing the fact that he is low man on the totem pole. In Fowler's office, things were getting heated based on your body language, but he couldn't see your lips to determine what you were saying. Eventually, you dropped the stack of papers on his desk, jabbing at them before storming out.

"Come on, Connor, you're coming with me, " you demanded, giving him no choice but to follow you out. You were kind of freaking him out. He already knew he was positive, but his systems will take care of it. You have yet to say anything about it though, going to the car and pulling out your phone. You switched it to auto-drive as Connor sat in the passenger seat. He preferred to drive, enjoying the simple tasks. Why can't he drive while you make your phone calls?

"Hey, Hank, " you called Hank? That makes sense. He was out to lunch when the incident happened, "Connor tested positive." He could hear the lieutenant cursing and shouting into the phone.

"I don't fucking know! I'm taking him home now and we'll be out for the next two weeks, " two weeks? He can't be out that long! Especially during a crisis! You must know he isn't the average android! He'll be fine by tomorrow!

"Yes, I already talked to Fowler... I gave him a stack of applications! I warned him that if Connor or Nines got it, I'd need to be their primary, so he can fuck off!" When did you do that? "Yeah, I'll talk to him next... No, it doesn't work like that. Alright, bye." Connor thought you were done and he'd get some answers, but instead, you called someone else.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know, Connor tested positive, " heat settled in his cheeks. Were you telling everyone? "No, you are going to stay away.... Don't give me that bullshit! It works faster on advanced firewalls! That's why we haven't been able to stop it yet!" What? That's it. Connor wanted answers and he wanted them now. He grabbed your phone, briefly seeing the image of his stoic brother holding Gavin in a headlock before he hung up and tossed the phone in the backseat. You only stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What are you talking about?" He bared down on you. You were scaring him. He thought he was going to be fine, that it wouldn't affect him.

"This virus is designed for military-grade androids, which regularly upgrade their security programs. Your advanced programming makes you an easier target."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He felt a bit betrayed. You withheld that important information from him, you, who he trusts more than anyone.

"I'm sorry! Honestly, I thought I did!" You tried to think back, but your mind was a scrambled mess with how exhausted you are. You were lucky If you got 8 hours for the whole week. Connor noticed how distressed you were, so certain that you had told him.

"What... What's going to happen to me?" The car pulled up into the driveway, but neither moved to get out. He knew some of the symptoms, but believing he was safe, he didn't study it extensively.

"It's similar to a really bad flu in humans. Fever, body aches, coughing, and the like. Symptoms will probably start appearing over the next couple days, " you take his hand, "don't worry, I'm going to take care of you." He gently pulled his hand away and got out of the car. He knew you meant well and you didn't mean to forget to inform him, but he still felt hurt, and he was dreading what the following days are going to be like.

He unlocks the door of his shared house, SJ waiting at the doorway already. Connor reached up and grabbed his leash. A walk should calm his mind.

"Connor? Connor, wait!" You called out to him and he realized why. He can't walk SJ. He's infectious, and it's his responsibility to keep others safe. Reluctantly, he hands you the leash, bending down to pet SJ, then mopes back into the house.

Seeing him like this broke your heart, and knowing you neglected to tell him of his vulnerability filled you with guilt.

"SJ, what am I going to do?" You whine at the oversized pup. He looked up at the mention of his name and snorted before returning to smelling a lamppost. Well, that was useless. If Connor was human, you would make him his favorite meal as an apology, but that wasn't an option. You didn't mean to forget! There were so many things going on, and you had reminded yourself so many times, you legitimately thought you told him. Now, he is sick and it's all your fault. How do you even begin to apologize for that?

Then there was the virus itself. It was a terrorist act, and the FBI was already investigating it. Someone or some group had created this virus with the intent to take out as many military-grade androids as possible, so as to weaken the USA's army. What they didn't anticipate was how it spread. All androids could be affected by it, even foreign-built ones, and while it wasn't as deadly as they probably would have liked, without proper care, some androids have shut down from it. While it originated in the Artics, it has since traveled globally, resulting in a halting of the economy worse than even the Android revolution caused.

SJ finished his business and when you were done cleaning up after him, you both made the trek back home. Connor might not be able to leave the house, but he can still play fetch in the backyard. At least until he starts showing symptoms, you thought gloomily. Once you get home, you're gonna need to do a run-down of what you have and will need for the next two weeks. You know you'll need to stick some thirium in the freezer for when his fever spikes. Maybe you should pick up some fruit-flavored popsicles. Connor usually enjoys them, since it's one of the few food items he can eat without affecting his systems.

"I'm back, " you called out. Connor was still pouting, sitting on the couch. He didn't even bother turning on the tv, preferring to ruminate in his depression. Unclipping SJ, you moved to behind the couch, throwing your arms around the pouty deviant. SJ settled in his bed, ready for an undeserved nap.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you, " you mumbled against him. He sighed, long and heavy before relaxing into your grasp.

"I can't fault you completely. You've been overworked, and you are not an android with perfect recollection, " he spoke lowly.

"Rub it in, why don't ya?" You joke, earning a small laugh.

"I've never been sick before, " you could hear the worry in his voice.

"I know. I'll take care of you, I promise."

"You should be at work. Mr. Sunderland can't handle it by himself."

"Who?" Who the fuck is Mr. Sunderland?

"You don't know Cleon's last name?" Connor asked incredulously, "wasn't he your trainee?"

"He was, but I just called him either 'trainee' or Cleon. In any case, this is just what the precinct needed to "inspire" them to bring on some extra help. I already did the interviews and checked credentials. I literally did all the work for them!" You kissed his temple, right where his LED is, watching it flicker, "I swore if something happened to you or Nines, I would take care of you both. I'm registered to care for both models. If I didn't, you would have to go to the hospital to receive treatment." Both androids hate the hospital, Nines especially. You don't know why, but it seems to be the only thing he fears.

"But, if Nines gets sick now-"

"I will travel between here and his place to check on him. I've also discussed this with Gavin, even giving him a run-down on the basics. Nines would be fine. You are my concern right now, so if you start to feel odd, even if you think it's not a big deal, I need you to tell me, okay?"

"Okay, " Connor agreed. You settled back against him, but he wasn't satisfied. Turning slightly, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you over, onto his lap. You laughed as he snuggled against you, peppering you with kisses. The android had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, not that you really minded. You'll just have to make the list of things you need in your head.

"I have at least 24 hours, correct? Might I make a final request?" He murmured against your cheek.

"You're not dying, you know that right?" You giggled.

"Is that a no?" He gazed at you, pouting his lip, pulling off his trademark puppy dog face.

"As if that's ever an option, " you purred, kissing his nose, then his cheek, down his jaw before teasing him with a peck next to his lips. When you went to do it again, he turned his head and caught your lips.

"You're right, " he speaks against you, "it's not."

...........

You weren't able to escape his grasp until almost 3 am, body aching and satiated. Connor was in stasis, lying on his side in bed, blanket draped over his hips. It isn't common for you to be awake while he sleeps, but usually you try to soak up every second. He looks so peaceful, relaxed, and nothing like the relentless hunter he is at work. You had an obligation, however, and you weren't going to fail him again. Carefully, you pull the blanket up over his shoulders, his LED flickering a few times before slowing once again.

Taking one last look, you begrudgingly head into the kitchen, taking a couple of bottles and pouches of thirium from the fridge and sticking them into the freezer. Next, you headed for your emergency kit, checking for your iv needles and how much numbing lotion you had. Satisfied, you looked for your Liquid Ice. You looked all throughout your bag, even dumping the contents on the floor, but you could not find it.

"Shit, " you mumbled under your breath. Cyberlife stores are having trouble keeping it in stock. If they're out, you might need to sneak into work and grab a bottle, or message Hank. He'd do it for you. You take the time to organize your bag while picking up the spilled contents. A nose blocks your hand from grabbing your tube of liquid rubber-stoppers.

"SJ, shoo!" You whisper yelled, "I don't need help." SJ looked at you and snorted, right in your face. Disgusted, you wipe your face on the sleeve of your robe, "you really are your daddy's child, aren't you." Grabbing the last items, you push on his head to stand back up, patting his head, "I need to run to the store real quick to help Con. Think you can keep an eye on him for me until I get back?"

SJ let out a low borf, "good boy!" You patted his head once more before going into the bedroom to get dressed. Connor was still asleep, so you quickly found some clothes and started to put them on. The dog, though, saw the vacant spot in bed. With the same amount of grace Hank has after a few drinks, SJ scrambled into the bed. 'Wow, just dance all over my grave, why don't you,' you thought.

Connor stirred, opening his eyes and expecting to see his enchanting lover, he is instead met with a hairy beast looking down at him. SJ leaned down and gave him a lick on the cheek.

You come around to his side of the bed, hand on his shoulder as he tries to get up.

"Where are you going?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep. A simple stasis update, but boy, could that voice get you going.

"I gotta run to the store. I'll be right back, " you murmur.

"It's 3:42 in the morning."

"Which means no crowds. Store down the road is still doing three shifts. I wanna get supplies before you start showing symptoms. Just go back to sleep, ok? and I'll be back before you know it."

Usually, Connor would fight you on it, insisting it can wait or wanting to come with you. This time, he simply nods, laying his head back on the pillow. He felt... tired. It probably is a good idea, that way you'll be here when he needs you. He felt your lips on his temple, along with a whispered 'I love you'.

"I love you, too, " he hums, slipping back into stasis.

............

When he woke up again, he wished he never did. Now, he was lying in bed, drenched in artificial sweat, body aching. When he tried to turn off his sensors, the program immediately kicked back on, an instant of excruciating pain before dropping back down. He looked over, praying you would be there, but even SJ had left when the deviant started tossing in his sleep, leaving your side vacant. He tried calling for you, but his throat burned. The action triggered a coughing fit, which made everything so much worse. When it subsided, he pulled his hand away, seeing blue blood dotting his palm.

You rushed in when you heard the coughing, having been putting up groceries. One look told you how miserable he felt, the virus starting to run its course. Grabbing a tissue from your nightstand, you sat next to him and wiped his hand.

"Don't worry, that's normal, " you spoke, tossing the used tissue in the trash before feeling his forehead, as if it wasn't obvious he was overheating, "you're really warm."

"I know, " he rasped.

"Come on, I've already ran you a cool bath, " you helped Connor to his feet, guiding him to the bathroom. His vision kept swimming, and his gyroscope was malfunctioning, making the room spin. You tried to keep a firm grasp on the disoriented deviant, despite how slick his skin is. After a few failed attempts, he managed to step into the tub, relying heavily on you as you eased him down, letting him lie back against the wall.

The water was cool, but not cold. Pleasant. You took a small pitcher and filled it with water, tipping his head back and pouring it over his scalp. He sighed at the small relief, enjoying the cooling sensation. You did it a couple more times, until some of the color left his face.

"I'm gonna go switch the sheets and find you some shorts to wear, okay?"

He hummed, sinking down further into the tub, nose just above the water.

"Please, don't drown."

He hummed again, making no moves to sit up higher. It didn't put your mind at ease, but you'll only be a moment. You shot Hank a text, asking if he could swipe a can of Liquid Ice for you, then you pulled the blankets off the bed, sheets soaked from Connor's feeble attempts to keep cool. You peered into the bathroom as you walked to the laundry room, making sure he didn't sink any lower. You started the wash and grabbed fresh linens, checking on Connor, making the bed, checking on Connor, grabbing some supplies, then grabbing him a pair of basketball shorts and re-entering the bathroom.

The water was starting to warm, which you figured was going to happen. Connor was simply sitting there, eyes half-lidded but unblinking, his LED in a constant state of yellow. He focused on the cooling water, trying to forget his aches and pains. Was this how you felt last year, when you caught the flu? It's no wonder your mood had been so volatile.

"You ready to get out?" his eyes slowly landed on you before he started to stand, bracing himself against the wall. You immediately reached out, ready to help. He managed to get out of the tub before being hit with another coughing fit, crumpling to the floor and taking you with him. The violent fit triggered a gag reflex, body trying to clear his airways and cool down. Thirium poured from his mouth, staining the floor blue. You rubbed his back, comforting him until his breathing evened out. He tried to grab a hand towel from the tub to clean it up, but you stopped him.

"I got it. Let's get you back in bed, " easing him up, you moved around the mess, grabbing a towel and walking him to the bedroom.

"Sorry, " Connor huffed while you helped him into his shorts. He sat down, legs aching so much more just by standing.

"Don't be. You're sick, and I'm partially to blame, " you took the towel and gently ruffled his hair, "I told you I'm here to take care of you and that's exactly what I'm going to do." You had grabbed some extra pillows, so when he laid back he was gently propped up. You took some adhesive ice packs and stuck one on the base of his neck, one on his forehead, and one on his chest, right over his thirium pump.

"How do you feel?" You ask.

"Everything... hurts, " he manages to answer. You grab a bottle of lotion and start rubbing it all over him. Instantly, he could feel his body go numb.

"This stuff disrupts the impulses to your sensors. It won't work if the pain is too strong, but it's good for minor aches." In a way, you were envious. Any pain relief you want, you have to wait to kick in, "how's your thirium level?"

"92%." Too early to fill. If you want his body to cool down, it would need to be below 80%.

"Well, there is something I got for you that I think you might like, " you smile down at him before pulling out a jar and a spoon, "lucky for you, raw honey is safe for you to consume even with a fever and it should help your throat." You took a spoonful and put it to his lips. He happily took it, letting it coat his mouth and drip down his throat. Connor loves honey. He could feel it soothing the burn. You gave him two more spoonfuls before setting it aside.

"You should get some rest while you can, love, " you stroke his cheek.

"Stay with me?" He now understands why you don't want to be alone when you're sick, "at least until I enter stasis?" You move to lay on his other side, so he can reach the trash can if need be.

"Sure."

#detroit become human #connor fanfiction #dbh #connor x reader #rk800 #rk800 connor reader #connor #gaming #quarantine

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