#he lectures and every class he’s ever stood in front has been delighted to have him some students even get obsessed

[celabi]

a smut dedicated 2 u 🔥🔥🔥 tw for my bad english though english is not my first language and to make it worse its not proofread

note: noncon elements, voyeurism, stalking, reader has no privacy, afab reader

one word to describe scummy scara's room is that it's decorated akin to a shrine, one dedicated for you.

There's all sorts of pictures in his room. His favorite picture is when you were feeding a neighborhood cat before a large influx of felines started to come towards you. You looked so panicked and confused, but overall gleaming with delight. It was just so, so cute... The picture is slightly blurry because of how hard his hands were shaking when he took it. This picture is framed and hung right beside his bed, so when he wakes up, the first thing he sees is your smile and shiny eyes (God, when will you look at him like that?). In a way this is his form of manifesting that he'll actually have you in his bed, one day. and he'll wake up to your smiling face everyday.

Another one of his favorite pictures is the one he took when you fell asleep in class. it was a boring lecture and you had just silently dozed off. He remembers how at first, you were slowly nodding off before your friend poked you by the ribcage (he immediately glared daggers at her) and you were wide awake for the next 15 minutes until you dozed off again.... Adorable. He thinks it's just adorable how you just slept like that! He wishes that it was him who had sat next to you, and not your stupid shitty friend. Back then he was seething with jealousy, how your friend couldve probably heard your little snores, maybe you mumble in your sleep, too. It should've been him hearing that, not her!

But he would soon find that there's no need for jealousy.

Fine, your friend may be able to eat beside you and share food together. And he tries to ignore the fact that she sometimes spoons you her food, with the same spoon that was just from her mouth. Fine she might be able to hug you all the time and smell your sweet heavenly scent, and she doesn't need to steal your perfume for that... And she certainly doesn't have to sneak around and steal pictures of you like this, because from what he's known from stalking you 24/7 seen, you send a lot of selfies to her...

Ahem, but has she ever, ever seen you in this state?

That was the day where he had immediately maxed out the memory on his camera in a mere few hours.

You were sprawled on your bed after a tiring influx of exams. There's a lot of emotions pent up for you. You were stressed out, and he knows you've spent a lot of time being angry at yourself or crying. He had sent a few packages of food for you at that time, but you hadn't eaten any of them because of how busy and immersed in work you were.

So you had spent the day resting to let go of that stress. But there are other ways to alleviate stress, faster ones too.

So you began touching yourself.

You started off slow and unsure. Rubbing yourself over the cloth of your panties. You already started to look so red by the cheeks here, he didn't think you'd be that sensitive. Then you slid your panties down, and heavens, you started heavily breathing, gasping as your fingers made contact to your clit.

At that rate, scara found his pants were damp.

Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing... and occasionally a finger inside, but every time you do, you hesitate to put it deeper. soon enough, you stood up and started searching for something in your room. and whenever you bent down there was a feverish frenzy of clicks.

oh no, are you done? but you haven't even came. were you too scared to go further?

oh how he wished that he was wifh you, he wouldve been able to take care of you so so well. He wonders what kind of expressions you'd make, you already gave a snippet of it earlier. He imagines you looking down on him, cheeks flushed, and a glint of mischief in your eyes as you open your legs right in front of him and order him to suck. he'd be on his knees, lapping at your pussy, sucking on your clit, drowning himself in your folds. he'd suck on anything his tongue makes contact with.

it took every ounce of life in him to not make himself seen and drop on his knees to beg you to let him eat you out and shout i promise i can make you cum like crazy! if I don't you can punish me!

when you drop back on your bed, theres something in your hands. A pencil? Why... Did you suddenly have the urge to do your homework? Weird, he doesnt remember you receiving any new work. Plus even if you did, you should be rest- Oh. Oh.... Oh.

You're putting the pencil inside you.

At this point he's palming his lower region to try and alleviate the sudden feeling of his boxers suffocating his cock.

You wince at first, but eventually, you start pulling the pencil in and out of you. Your other hand toys around with your clit.

In and out, in and out, slowly slowly. The motion puts him in a trance, it took him a second before pressing down on the button of his camera, sending another frenzy of pictures down the SD card. The sounds of your moans and gasps are something akin to a church's beautiful choir in his head, singing a lovely song that he can only describe as divine.

You cum relatively fast, but you show no signs of slowing down with neither of your hands. Instead, your hands start making fast work of toying with your clit while plunging the pencil inside in a hereatic manner. You take off your bra, and this time, you play with your nipples too.

Again, it takes every ounce in him to not interrupt your session and instead plunge his cock into you. he's better than that measly pencil! though he doesn't adorn as much muscles on his figure as the jocks in campus, nor does he even look anywhere as healthy as they do. though he's rather slender, his cock isn't. the length of his cock is enough to hit all of the great places in you! and the girth of it is great too, its going to make you feel so, so full of him.

You cum again, and this time you look spent. Another great frenzy of clicks.

With sweat gleaming down your heaving chest, flushed cheeks, red puffy eyes and lips... scara doesn't realize how there are pools of cum already dripping down the floor, seeping through his pants.

The best part is when you take the pencil out of you, he could see the strings of your juices are intact with the pencil.

and when you fell asleep, he made his move.

he silently removed himself from his hiding spot, and slowly pushed the door away big enough to let him in.

you seemed really spent back there, you won't be up anytime soon.

first, he takes a good lick of your damp panties. he thought of bringing it home, but realizes you'd definitely find it weird that your panties had just dissappeared out of nowhere. then he takes a whiff of your scent... you always smell so sweet, he always walks past you in the halls just to get a scent of you although he had practically stolen your perfume anyway.

then finally, he licks and sucks on the pencil you had used. i'm cleaning it for you, see? he wants to bend down and lick your pussy, too, but again decides that it's too risky.

he takes more pictures too, here. he takes pictures of your face, then closeups of your pussy, closeups of your boobs, your legs, your neck, hell even your collarbones.

weird. he's still not sated. he feels guilty for being so greedy... his goddess had just given him the show of his life! but he still wants more.

"ahh... i'm sorry, it feels wrong touching you like this. but i can't hold myself anymore."

so he bends down and steals a kiss on your lips. a soft and tender one. he has to remind himself not to have a whole make out session with you, though.

an idea pops up in his head. he's had a lot of pictures of you, but he's never had a picture of the two of you in one frame before!

he bends down for another kiss, his hand gently caressing your gace, while the other holds his camera high. his heart is beating so fast, he can feel it reverberating throuch his ribcage, and up to his skull. he had watched you pleasure yourself, and he had pleasured himself in the process too... is that not just another form of making love? he made love to you, and you made love to him!

and now he's touching you! he's never been this close before. Haha! He's closer to you than any of your friends will be! And he'll make sure that he'll be the only one to ever get this close to you.

he takes another peck on your lips.

"i love you."

his hand is shaking so much, it takes him awhile to finally take a picture.

click.

.

.

.

"memory full"

OH LORD OH MY GOODNESS A PENCIL RAHHHHH 😳😳😳😳😳😳 JESUS I HAD TO SIT DOWN (I already was) AND TAKE A BREATHER AFTER READING THIS WOW ITS SO GOOD 😭😭

He’s so delusional and thinks that you both touching yourself at the same time is making love 🥺 (even when you’re unaware that he’s there).

AND GOD IMAGINE HOW MUCH HED HAVE TO CUM FOR IT TO SEEP OUT OF HIS PANTS WHATTT 🫣

i love this so much omfg, when I get better, I’d like to write something about this if you don’t mind ❤️

MEMORY FULL AHSHSONEE

[metagalacticx]

mason hewitt ❀ ₊⁻∘･ professor

[aetheternity]

I'll admit it's exciting (P2)

Synopsis: Being your professor's dirty little secret. His pet.. Sounded too good to refuse.

Warning: Smut in the later chapters! 18+ only

"He kissed me!"

"You know what they were wrong, 1,547th time is the charm." Eren picked up a new much rounder stone then the one he'd been holding previously. He quickly chucked the object getting about three and a half splashes before it went under.

"They who??" Sasha questioned

"They the people of society, Sasha." Mikasa replied

It was virtually impossible to remember any of the events of Friday. Ever since that kiss you'd basically lost a day of your life to your protruding thoughts. Now on a perfectly crisp Saturday like today you'd spent all day hanging out with Eren, Mikasa and Sasha as god intended. It was a ritual after all. The four of you coming down to the river together if you weren't all busy with homework and just discussing life events and skipping stones.

"It just came outta nowhere and it was so sudden!" You pout, resting your head on your knee.

"Just don't say it like that in court. You wouldn't want his little puppy to be homeless when he loses his job." Sasha patted your shoulder and you sent her a glare.

"I thought the puppy didn't live with him." Mikasa said, skipping a stone that went twice as far as Eren's to his own annoyance.

"Meanwhile that isn't the important part." Eren interjected "You have to take this to the higher ups you know."

"Please Eren, this is no time to think responsibly."

Mikasa giggled at the scrunched up look on Eren's face as she picked up a stone with both hands. One that was almost bigger than her torso.

"Mikasa, that one isn't going to skip." Eren said, trying to pry it from her grasp.

"Well, what do you want to do then?" Sasha questioned with an eyebrow raise.

"Huh?"

"I mean you clearly don't want to rat him out and you think he's hot so why not try to date him?"

"Cause she can't Sasha. It's against university policy." Eren replied turning away from Mikasa as she let the rock go. "And it's kinda gross."

When Mikasa chucked the rock in her arms the force was honestly intimidating. Surprisingly enough it managed to skip. Hitting the water once against the surface before sinking into the bright blue river.

"But I want to so baaaaadddd."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Well I mean if you go to the dean with that logic he'll probably allow it."

"Stupid sarcastic fuck.." You whispered with a huff.

"Mikasa, come on help me out here." Eren sighed turning to Mikasa who simply shrugged reaching for a new rock with one hand. "Thanks.." He mumbled

Sasha let out a loud sigh as she plopped down next to you. Scattering the rocks with her feet. "I'm hungry." She announced, resting her head on your shoulder.

Eren flipped the bag strapped to his back around digging in it for a couple seconds before tossing Sasha and you a sandwich and a bottle of lukewarm water.

"Yes!! You're amazing Eren!!" Sasha delighted

"Thanks.." You muttered, turning the baggie with the sandwich in it over in your hand.

Eren walked over plopping the bag between his legs and raising an arm to place over your shoulders.

"College is about new experiences." Mikasa said as she stood in front of you. "If you're not in a rush you'll find something to get excited over."

"Sleeping with a professor is a new experience that would excite anyone." Sasha said inbetween bites immediately getting flicked by Eren.

A mocking sob left your lips, interspersed with a couple snorts as you raised a hand up for Sasha that she instantly high fived.

~~~~

Somehow you'd managed to come to class on Tuesday and not hear a word of the lecture. Barely paying attention to your work as you read the same question over and over again and everytime he looked at you.... Dammit was he staring? Were you staring??

How could he sit there in that bright blue shirt? A shirt that matched his eyes so much so that they made their gorgeousness that much more enticing. You could feel your cheeks become pink as the memory of his lips drifting back like a curse. It made you grip your pen a little tighter, squeeze your thighs together a little-

"Hey.." You peeked up at the almost intimidating gaze he had set on you that had your heart racing. And wow your chest was definitely moving a lot faster. "The class ended." He muttered

Was he talking lower??

"Sorry.."

"Don't be."

He inched a little closer. The tip of his nose hovering just above the bridge of yours. His breath cold where it hit your skin. But then he was backing away.

"I promise you i'm not the kind of guy who preys on his students. I promise, seriously I.. normally don't but-"

"No-no.." You chuckled to break the tension. "No, I didn't think-don't think you would." It came off more as a question.

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable." He sighed, leaning his head back where he stood. "I just had to do that at least once. It's not excusing it I know it's wrong and I won't ever do it again. I don't know what got into me."

Your eyes grew a little wider with every word that spilled off his lips. Fingers clutching the black pen in your grasp just a little harder.

"I said yes!" You announced a little too loud in the empty classroom. "I said yes.. when you asked."

"Y-yes, you did." His flushed cheeks made him effortlessly more adorable. Pink stretching over the bridge of his nose.

"I like you a lot already Mr. Arlert." You admitted staring deeply at each tile on the floor.

"Call me, Armin."

"Armin." You repeated

"It's still unprofessional."

"No one has to know."

He let out a loud exhale, pacing towards his desk before coming to stand in front of you. "I can't date you. I'll get in trouble."

"No one has to know."

He was standing directly in front of you. Arms on each side of you boxing your hips in. "It's still-"

You pecked his whispering lips in a moment of weakness. Arm falling over his back and trailing down the shirt you kinda wanted to rip off now.

"Wrong." He finished

"I won't tell." You giggled, pushing his gorgeous blonde locks away only for them to flop back over his once exposed forehead.

When he stepped back it caused your heartbeat to practically fly from your ribcage. The once quiet room being quickly bombarded with the next class and you hoped you didn't look as dazed and flushed as you felt. You leaned over the desk to grab your bag and just as soon Armin was standing beside you again.

"My office.." He whispered "It's on your syllabus, the room number and floor." And with those last words he was flooding out like a decapitated chicken.

Did he mean?? No he couldn't have?? Your brain wracked the second you'd left the crowding room.

He couldn't be suggesting?..

Without a second thought you ripped your bag open, wrenching your folder from the small compartment inside. With a quick flip it was open though a couple of your papers spilled out. You gripped the misplaced papers searching over the syllabus.

Downstairs.

For the first time since you'd seen it during your first college tour and started your first day you took the stairs. Bolting around and almost through passersby going in the opposite direction.

You didn't even know if he'd get there before you and at this speed he might not but you were trekking so quickly until you'd finally reached the door. Slowed to a walk as you turned the corner passing people carrying papers and flipping through thick binders as they walked.

You slowed even further, walking past a couple of desks some with people typingaway on computers and some completely empty. Your chest was pretty much ready to explode once you'd stopped at the last door at the end of the hall. Copy maker and small plant decorating the mostly empty space.

It only took two hesitant knocks for you to get pulled in. Gasping as your back hit the back of the door with a small yelp and the light thud of your skull.

His thumbs held your head in place as he dipped his face close to yours. Every bit of his breath tickling your lips. So warm where they teased you. You brought both hands up to curve over the back of his neck gripping his head almost tightly until he was pressing his lips onto yours with a roughness he hadn't exuded the first time.

"Mm.. what's that?" You giggled, pulling back.

His breath was so intoxicating and as much as you were begging for more your curiosity always won over other emotions. "What's what?" He replied

You pulled his hand back from your face immediately delighted in the smooth cold steel between your fingers as you held one of the rings cuddlinghis index finger.

"My rings." He replied, pressing back against your mouth with gentle hunger. "I don't like to wear them in class anymore cause the girls ask too many questions." He traced his lips past your cheek. And towards your outstreched chin giving it a little suck that made you whimper.

"Questions.." Your breathed in affirmation.

His teeth grazed the skin of your chin teasing exactly where he wanted to leave marks as he left more splayed kisses. "That and.. I don't like typing with them on."

His hands were back on your cheeks now. Grip a little looser against your face. His tongue drifted forward towards your lips. Breath catching a bit as he tasted you for the first time. A moan slipped from your open mouth, the sigh from his lips unbelievably pleasurable.

"Do you like them?" He whispered against your open lips.

"Mm?" You could barely muster.

His tongue crested over yours, pressing it further back into your mouth. You only had a second to press back before he'd retreated to pressing the tip of his tongue against the roof of your mouth. And then he was pushing his tongue back against yours pulling it forward and then pressing it back.

"My.. rings." He breathed between kisses. Right against your lips. Stealing your oxygen while barely reacting on his side. "You like them?.."

"Mmhm.."

He let out a little giggle, blonde hair a complicated mess against yours and his forehead. He pressed in as close as he could be with each sweet kiss. One. Two. Three.

"Let me take you out ok?"

When you didn't answer he pulled back ignoring your little whimper. Blue eyes blown and dark right in the middle as he stared into the depths of you.

"Wanna take you out." He almost slurred "Ok?"

"Mm ok.."

He rewarded your efforts to speak with a deep kiss. One that filled your chest while simultaneously causing your heat to combust. Your body smothered by his, grip tight where it grabbed onto the back of his shirt and neck. His own hand on your chin with just his thumb and index finger to guide you.

"Where do you wanna go?" His free hand moved to press against the door. "Where do you want me to take you?"

You pulled back, air lost on you and face seething with heat. "How do you expect me to answer when you just had your tongue down my throat?"

He shakes his head with a breathy chuckle that finally proves how the kiss has been effecting his own body. "Sorry. So?"

"I-I don't know.."

"Mm. My pick then, I promise I'll take you somewhere good."

~~~~

"Don't tell Eren.."

"Mm." Sasha replied

You'd gone straight to Sasha's room the second you'd left Armin's office and now you were laying on her floor while she scarfed down a pound cake next to you.

"I made out with him in his office.. and we planned a date.."

Sasha paused with a raised eyebrow. "What about Mikasa's whole find another reason to be invested in college thing?"

"Ok, I never said I'd do that."

She nodded, "Eren's gonna kill you.."

"No! Look the reason it's just me and you here and not Mikasa and Eren too is because I don't need his judgement!" You pouted, pulling your legs into your chest as Sasha took a new bite from her cake.

"How was he?"

"God his lips were so soft and breathtaking. I was suffocating in the best way."

"Tongue?"

"His tongue is the reason my thighs are shaking like this." You pulled back, resting the backs of your hands on the ground as your leg continued the uncontrollable shivering it'd been doing since you'd left Armin's office.

"Oh, well that explains one of my questions." Sasha said with a smile. "New question, how the hell do you plan on hiding this from Eren?"

"He's my friend not my dad I don't need to hide it or get his permission."

Sasha paused mid bite. "But.. you didn't invite him here to listen to your date plans??"

"Who's side are you on?"

"I believe the correct answer is yours!" She beams as you brush her hair back from her face with your fingers. She stuffs the last of the cake into her mouth as you continue, "I mean I'm not hiding it. I just wanna be happy in this and Eren will ruin it. People say you shouldn't tell your friends about things you know they'll ruin."

"Society?"

"Huh?" Sasha stared up at you from where she'd moved to relax her head in your lap. "Yeah sure Sasha society.."

Sasha hummed as you slowly combed her hair from its ponytail. "So where's the date anyway?"

"He hasn't told me yet but he said it'll be special."

~~~~

You hadn't properly talked to Armin since you'd both kissed in his office but he had your phone number. Not that he texted you much (to your own annoyance.) But on Friday he did. Told you to come outside at almost 12am with a quick apology text underneath with praying hands hoping he hadn't woken you.

You got dressed pretty casually. V neck t-shirt and jeans with your best looking pair of sneakers before heading down stairs where Armin stood in his own casual white tee (that accented his biceps.) And some standard looking black jeans.

"I thought about it for a little too long huh?" He smiled holding out a thin piece of cloth. "Just until we get there." He assured

You couldn't stop snickering with each step you took. Sparks racing up and down your spine as Armin held your waist.

"What's so funny?"

"Hmm.. I don't know I just figured I'd have to wait till at least the third date to be blindfolded."

He paused and you held your breath. "N-no it's not like that.. I normally don't do this but it has to be a surprise."

You laughed away his tension. "No no I figured." You would honestly give anything to see his face right now.

You could tell the terrain had changed as soon as you felt grass tickling the backs of your ankles and you reached out to him as the feeling of falling started to take you.

"It's ok. We're almost there."

You managed to grab his wrist and the breathy laugh on your neck made your skin practically spark.

"Don't worry I won't let you fall." He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you were both gradually slowing until he'd stopped you.

He carefully untucked the blindfold making sure he didn't tangle your hair as he pulled it off your face. It slowly unraveled and tickled your skin revealing the cutest picnic set up. A small green blanket draped over the ground with tiny lanterns sprinkled around the spread and a basket right in the middle.

A container leaned against one side of the basket while another blanket rested on the other side. A folded white one with green stripes spreading over it.

"Come sit."

"This is so beautiful." You remarked, careful not to jostle the set up as you sat. "You should've told me I would've dressed nicer."

He shook his head, "The point of this was so you'd be your most normal self. So just be you ok." He held out a glass which you instantly took as he poured the liquid from the jug in his lap into your cup. "Sorry I didn't ask you what your favorite foods were.. I wanted it to be a surprise so I spent most of this week preparing."

"Armin.." You exhaled softly reaching out for his hand. He flinched away for just a second and then he was back, flipping his hand around for you to hold it.

"Let's lie down ok?"

"Mm."

"Unless you're really hungry." He offered looking at you as his head plopped back on the grass.

"No no I'm ok I promise. I ate not too long ago." You replied leaning your head back until it made contact with slightly dewy grass.

He hummed in affirmation, rubbing his thumbs over each of your knuckles individually. "Then all this food might have been too much." He chuckled

"I mean we can eat it sometime." You whispered rolling you head over to face him. He slowly did the same and it had quickly turned into a staring contest.

"I don't really feel like I should ask you about college." He started "I mean you must talk about it enough seeing as that's all people ever seem to ask about once you're there."

"Mmhm." You snickered

"Tell me something random."

You stared up in mock contemplation before a soft smile played at your lips. "Well, I'm really into my college professor.."

He laughed, "Not college related!"

"So I started dating this guy.."

"Ugggghhh!"

At this point you were both stuck in a small fit of giggles. Once he'd relaxed a little he threaded his fingers through yours squeezing both your hands impossibly tightly and then bringing the back of your hand up to his lips for a quick peck.

"You're wearing the rings." You said, turning your adjoined hands over and sliding your thumb over the one on his index finger.

"I couldn't help but remember, this girl likes them a lot."

"Where'd you originally get them anyway?"

He blinked not taking his eyes off your face slowly turning more serious. "Well.. I had this friend and she told me I had perfect fingers for rings so she got me these for my birthday."

"By friend you mean ex?"

He slowly nodded, "Hope that doesn't make them less pretty. I just couldn't get rid of them. Not because I still have feelings! Don't think that I just I really like them!"

You huffed hoping it came off playfully and not the way you felt you looked right now. "I've thought of something awesome to talk about."

"Mm?"

"What'd you wanna be when you grew up?" You smiled as he wrinkled his nose trying to prevent the very clear smile forming on his face.

"It's not that interesting.."

"Please don't say teacher. Please don't say teacher. Please don't say teacher." You beamed crossing your fingers on your free hand.

He playfully shoved you, "No! Close a surfer dude!"

You blinked in confusion bringing your cup up to your lips and taking a sip before repositioning yourself to be up on one elbow. "Huh??"

"You asked." He replied mimicking your actions.

"I did.. why did I do that again?"

He scoffed, "Gonna listen to my reason?"

"I'm here right?"

"When I was younger my mom used to love the beach. She had little ships in a bottle on her dresser, multi colored towels in the bathroom and a surfboard necklace with her initials engraved on it. When I was five she took me surf boarding for the first time." Armin reached into the basket holding out a loaf of bread which you cautiously bit off of.

"I was terrified, I cried so much and I fell over and scraped my knee. I fell over so much that day I'm still surprised she didn't give up on me. I didn't get it down that day or at all till I was eight and I rode my first wave and then crashed and had to be rescued by her. But by then I was able to laugh even while I was coughing up water."

He slowly pressed the bread to your lips once more as he let out a slow breath. "Once I hit ten her and my father had passed away in a plane crash and I vowed to be a surfer partially because of her. But I couldn't pick it up again after, no matter how easy I thought it would be."

You chewed through the new bite you'd taken. "Oh Armin, I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "It happened so long ago. And from then on I was raised by my grandparents so the story has a happy ending."

"In a way.." You muttered laying back on the grass.

"Sorry.." He sighed, placing the bread on a napkin by you and laying back down. "I shouldn't have told that story, it always makes people sad for me."

"No no, I'm not sad for you I'm glad your mom's life is a happy memory for you. Enough so that you can laugh while saying you wanted to be a surfer dude." You giggled

"Yeah yeah I know."

"It's not a bad thing."

"No I know."

"It's just-" You continued to laugh, holding your stomach. "I'm sorry it's just.. it's not surfer.. it's surfer dude." You cackled

"Well technically my dad suggested I say lifeguard so that was my true calling." You exhaled with a sigh, laughter slowly dissolving into the night air. "Cold?" He offered you the blanket and you quickly draped it over his shoulders too squeezing him in closer despite the objects between you both.

A comfortable silence slowly drifted in and you could swear in the distance you heard a soft hoot. Definitely ridiculous assumptions but you looked over at him.

"I just wanna stay here." You squeezed his hand under the blanket.

"Me too."

You looked back up at the night sky. "What if we slept here."

"We can't."

"Yeah.. I know."

A new silence fell over the two of you for a couple seconds and you could hear the sound of Armin's breathing slowing. "The stars are gorgeous tonight.." You mutter looking over at him. His eyelids shut for just a minute before he turned his head, cheeks immediately flushing pink as his droopy gaze fell over your face.

"Yeah.. yeah they are."

[official-weasley]

Niece Aoede - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: I can't think of anything really 🙈

Word count: 2,741

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Charlie

“Good morning.” I stretched in the doorway that leads to the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Olivia smiled at me. “Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“Tea's fine.” I rubbed my eyes and sat down.

“Are you okay?” She tilted her head, observing me.

“Fine. Just a bit nervous, that's all.” I scratched the back of my head.

“To take Aoede to meet your family?”

“Charlie?” She said softly after a moment of silence, me biting my lip.

“Yeah.” I confessed.

“Molly didn't mention anything to me, but did you two have a fallout?” She placed her hand on top of mine.

“No.” I shook my head. “It's nothing.” I tried convincing her with a smile but I know she knows me better than that.

“I know your mum can be a bit much.” She sighed.

“It's not...yeah.” I bowed my head. “It's just, I know she apologized and everything is fine now but I hated how she reacted when we told her that Nova is pregnant.” My brows came together, reminiscing on the moment.

“Ah, she told me about that, yes.” Olivia nodded her head.

“I am used to her not agreeing with my choices but you saw how happy we were when we told you and we wanted to share that joy with my family and she ruined everything. It might've not been planned but we wouldn't change anything in the world and you should see how nervous Nova was to tell my parents that we are entering a new chapter in our lives. She was supposed to burst from happiness not look green in the face because she knew how my mum will react and she didn't want to disappoint her.” I tried hard to keep myself calm but I just couldn't help it, she made me so mad that day.

“I hate that she can't understand that I am old enough to take care of myself and that I have my own family now. She treats me as if I am a first-year and I...” I took a deep breath. “I guess now that I'm older I am seeing her in a different light.”

“She is just worried for you and wants the best for you.” Olivia said calmly.

“Then why could you be happy for us and share such a sweet moment with us when we told you? Why could dad be happy and supportive? Why does she always have to...” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You know, what? Forget I said anything.”

“Don't tell her this, but I think she should've reacted differently too. Want me to talk to her?”

“What good will that do? She will never change and never stop bossing us around. Do you know that she is the reason why I suggested to Nova that we stay with you and not at the Burrow? I knew that you will give us space and act normal and not lecture us every five minutes and tell Nova that she shouldn't sit that way while pregnant but find a different position or some nonsense like that.”

“You know she loves you and she just wants the best for you and I am not trying to defend her or be on her side. She just has her own way of showing those things and perhaps bossing you around and telling you what to do is the only way she knows and is not even aware that she is doing it. I know it's hard to understand but you and Nova are planning to have more children and getting along with your family is important for them.” She sighed. “I would know, both my and Roger's parents died before Nova was even born and I wish for nothing else than she could have grandparents in her life. Do stand up to her but don't cut her off completely.” She gave me a soft smile.

“Yeah, you're right.” I nodded. “Thank you for listening to me, Olivia.”

“Any time, Charlie. As much as Nova is a part of your family that much you are a part of hers.”

“Are the girls still sleeping?” Olivia asked as she put a cup of tea in front of me.

“No, Aoede woke up a while ago. I changed her and now Nova is breastfeeding her.” I took a sip of my tea.

“It makes me very happy that you help Nova so much. She even looks rested.” Olivia giggled.

“Well, she has been carrying her for 9 months and she had to give birth to her now it's my turn to have sleepless nights so Nova can get as much sleep as possible.” I smiled at her.

“Yeah, you'll have plenty of those, don't you worry.” Olivia laughed.

“I don't mind at all. I would never sleep again if it means my girls would be rested and well taken care of.”

“Olivia?” I waved a hand in front of her face when she didn't say nor blink for solid 30 seconds.

“Oh, I'm sorry for staring at you.” She put her hand in front of her mouth, embarrassed. “I just don't think I ever told you how lucky Nova is to have you.”

“Oh,” I felt the heat on my cheeks, “thank you.”

“I mean it, Charlie. Roger and I were hoping that our Nova would find someone that can truly understand her and bring the best out of her. You have done that and so much more and I know we don't talk often and you needed quite some time to loosen up around me,” she giggled, “but just know that I think you are perfect for my daughter.”

“Uh, I-”

“Good morning.” Nova's soft voice saved me from my awkward stuttering.

Olivia's compliment caught me completely off guard. Nova has always been closer to my mum than I was with hers. Mostly, because she hardly had the time to see us and we never really spent that much time on our own – Nova was always with us.

She was right when she said that I needed some time to relax around her. She never gave me any reason not to, I just found her intimidating and I wanted her to like me, especially when Nova and I started dating.

We got closer ever since we announced that we are going to have a baby and we spent some time alone together when Nova told Bill about her being pregnant. Now, that we have been living with her for the past 14 days because our house is under renovation, we have become really good friends and I finally feel like I am a part of Nova's family.

“How is my favorite girl?” Olivia turned her baby voice on.

“Are you talking to me or Aoede?” Nova giggled giving her the baby then she sat down next to me and kissed me.

“You want to eat something before we go?” I asked her.

“I think Molly will be delighted to give me something and if we go right now, we might catch Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny in their common room.” She smiled at me.

“Right, they won't all be there.” Olivia was still talking in her baby voice. “Who is the prettiest girl in the world?”

Nova and I giggled looking at her mum. She has that voice every time she is talking to our daughter and at this point, I am surprised that she can even switch back to her normal voice.

“I'll go upstairs and prepare everything then.” I started to get up.

“I already did that but I did forget the bag upstairs if you could...”

“I'm on it!” I stood up cutting Nova off.

The sooner we come to the Burrow the sooner we can come back here.

—

“Are you ready?” I whispered to Nova as we were standing in front of the door of my childhood home.

“Are you?” She whispered back, trying not to wake up the baby.

“I'll be fine as long as she doesn't say anything to you.” I kissed her.

“See, sweetheart, daddy is very overprotective so you should get used to that.” Nova giggled, kissing our daughter's nose.

We barely had the time to knock on the door when it swung open.

“You are finally here! What took you so long!” Mum's voice was nothing near a whisper.

I looked at Aoede who just moved in the blanket Nova had her wrapped in and continued sleeping.

“Oh, the baby is sleeping. I'm sorry.” Mum lowered her voice and moved so we could come inside.

“Hi, dad.” I waved at him as he stood up from the sofa.

“There he is! Welcome to fatherhood!” He pulled me into a hug and tapped me twice on the back.

“Thanks, dad.” I couldn't stop a smile from spreading all over my face.

I liked my new title a lot. I always wanted a family but it wasn't until our daughter was born that I realized just how strong my wish to be a dad was. I know I can't be the one talking, Aoede being born 14 days ago but so far I loved every second of it – even when Aoede was crying in the middle of the night, not willing to fall asleep.

“I am sorry that nobody else could come, dear.” Mum was next to hug me.

“Bill can't make it?” I tried hiding the disappointment in my voice.

“Sadly, he has been more than busy at work lately.” Mum genuinely looked like she felt sorry that he couldn't come.

“It's okay. We'll meet with him some other day.” I turned to the fireplace.

“What are you doing, Charles?” Mum rushed to my side.

“I sent Fred an owl to meet us through the fire. We have half an hour before the twins, Ron and Ginny continue with their classes.” I explained.

“Oh, don't be silly.” Mum swung her hand. “They'll have the time to meet the baby, properly. You can't do it over the fire.”

“When? In July? Don't be ridiculous.” I turned around to cast a spell on the fire.

“We wish you could all be here for this moment so we came up with a solution.” Nova who was sitting on the sofa, watching my dad holding Aoede, smiled.

“Dad, Nova, come here, so we can all be close to the fire.” I gestured for them to move.

“You can't bring the baby so close to the fire.” Mum protested, trying to stop my dad from sitting down in front of the fireplace.

“Molly, we trust Arthur that he will be careful.” Nova tried calming her down.

“Please stop telling us how to take care of our baby.” I sighed, trying to stay as calm as possible, repeating Olivia's words in my head.

“But...”

“Oh, where is the baby? Where is it?” George's voice interrupted my mum from making me mad.

“Does it have red hair?” Ginny exclaimed.

“Does it look like me?” Fred clapped his hands together.

“Does it have my eyes?” Ron blinked a few times.

“Mum, dad, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny meet your granddaughter and niece, Aoede Io.” Dad gently placed Aoede in my hands and I carefully sat down in front of the fire in the hopes that they will be able to see her.

“Oh, she is so cute!” Ginny put her hands over her mouth.

“She is so small!” Fred was the next to speak.

“She looks nothing like us, Fred.” George tried sounding disappointed.

“We...we have a granddaughter.”

The second mum heard me say it, her cheeks were soaked with tears and she forgot all about the dangers of fire and kneeled next to me to finally get a proper look of the little girl in my hands.

“Arthur,” she breathed, “look at her. She is perfect.” Mum sniffed.

“Who picked the name?” Ron asked.

“Charlie.” Nova smiled, leaning her chin on my shoulder, sitting behind me as the space in front of the fireplace was too small to accommodate everyone.

“She has a beautiful name.” Ginny's voice shook a little.

“I don't know if you can see her.” I frowned.

“We see her just fine. Thank you for doing this, Charlie.” George smiled.

“Of course! When you'll see her in the Summer she will be 5 months old.” Nova returned the smile.

“Will I be allowed to hold her?” Ginny asked.

“Of course, you will. All of you will.” I answered, giving Aoede an Eskimo kiss.

“So, who won the bet?” I smirked.

“Almost forgot about that!” Fred jumped on the spot.

“Pay up, George and Ron!” Ginny extended her hand as if waiting for them to give her the money.

“How many times do we have to tell you that Ginny is always right?” I giggled, watching George and Ron give Fred and Ginny the coins.

“Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to meet her, but we have to go!” Ginny nudged her brothers and stood up. “Nova, Charlie, congratulations!” She grinned at us before standing up.

“Yeah, congrats!” Ron followed her lead.

“Thank you for making us uncles!” The twins said in unison.

“I hope you know, we will spoil her rotten.” George chuckled and they broke off the connection.

“Her? I have a niece?” All four of us turned around, seeing Bill standing behind us.

“Bill, you came!” Nova got up at once and threw her arms around him.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss seeing my niece for the first time for anything in this world.” He smiled and returned the hug.

“But you told mum that you can't make it.” I gave Aoede to mum who was eyeing her with sparks in her eyes and stood up.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He winked at me before pulling me into a hug.

“Can I hold her?” Bill asked hopefully, looking at the baby in mum's arms.

“Here you go, William. Be careful with the head.” Mum gave him Aoede and Bill made his way to the sofa.

“Bill, meet your niece, Aoede.” I sat down next to him.

“You got your wish with the name.” He smirked.

That day when Nova told Bill she was pregnant we went for a walk when they came back and he asked me about baby names and I was just too excited not to talk about them to him.

“She looks so much like you, Nova.” Bill whispered as Nova sat down next to him on his other side.

“Even though it's darker than yours.” Bill looked from his niece to me.

“Except the hair.” Dad giggled.

“I was hoping she would get Charlie's hair.” Nova gently ruffled Aoede's soft locks.

“He had the same color when he was born.” Mum said, sitting in her armchair, admiring the scene before her.

“Did you give her a middle name?” Bill asked his eyes on the baby.

“Io.” Nova answered.

“Aww, like you. That is precious.” Bill cooed.

“Do you think she'll have any freckles?” Bill asked after a moment of admiring his niece.

“We hope so.” Nova leaned on his shoulder.

“If you look closely, she has 3 on her nose.” I giggled.

“How was the delivery?” Dad was the first one to snap out of us all looking at our baby girl.

“It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” Nova rubbed her chin.

“What's important is that it all went smoothly and that you're both okay.”

Just as my mum said that Aoede started crying.

“Oh, no. What did I do?” Bill started to panic.

“Nothing.” Nova giggled. “She's just hungry.” She gestured for Bill to give her the baby and she slowly made her way upstairs.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I started to get up.

“No, no. We'll be fine. Won't we?” She used the same baby voice on Aoede as her mum did.

“She looks fine and rested.” Mum turned to me the second they disappeared on the stairs.

“We are managing. Nova is feeding her when she's hungry and I take care of all the rest so that Nova can get her strength back.” I said nonchalantly.

“That's my son.” Dad winked at me.

“Congratulations, Charlie. She is just lovely.” Bill pulled me into another hug. “When are you having the next one?”

“Hey, slow down. Let this one grow a little.” I laughed, knowing full well he was only joking.

[harrytpotter]

RIGHT PLACE, WRONG TIME — Part V

Plot: Y/N finds herself trapped in a time in which she doesn’t belong only to learn that maybe that was her place all along.

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mild cursing.

A/N: First, sorry for the delay in posting this! I had some personal things going on and didn’t have the time to stop and write. Also, this chapter is a little shorter than usual because it’s mostly a filling-in one! Thanks everyone for your thoughts about this imagine so far, hope you guys enjoy this chapter! ;)

Once you arrived for transfiguration, the class had already started. As you entered the room, McGonagall glared severely at you. You mutter a quiet apology as you start walking to your usual sit next to Lily. However, before you could approach the redhead, a paper ball hits you in the head. Turning on your heels with a fulminant look on your face, you’re met by Amos’ amused smile. As you frown confused, he pointed to the seat next to him.

“Did you really have to hit me in the head with a paper ball?” You roll your eyes at him, whispering as you sat down.

“Well, I figured that it’s only fair that we spend more time together since we’ve been seeing each other,” he grinned playfully, mimicking double quotes with his fingers.

“You’re such a delight, Diggory,” you roll your eyes at him again, this time with a grin on your face.

You diverge your attention from him when your eyes land on Lily, who looked at you quite seriously. She didn’t say anything but you could hear her ‘what the hell?!’ loud and clear inside your head. Lily then motioned in James’ direction. Once you looked at him, you felt your stomach sink. He was staring at you and Amos with a sad expression, the hurt so clear in his eyes. You lower your head, awfully aware of the disappointed glances you were getting from all of your best friends, who rightfully stood by James’ side.

“Why don’t you just tell him the truth?” Amos says after studying your face for a while.

“Amos, please, we’ve been over this already,” you bury your face into your hands.

“Have we? Seriously, Y/N, I think you’re making a terrible mistake here. You fancy each other, besides it’s clearly bloody killing you to see him hurt like that,” he frowns worriedly.

“Why are you so worried about my wellbeing or James’ for that matter? It’s not like you and I have been friends forever,” you say a little harshly, trying to change the subject. “Sorry, I’m just... so bloody frustrated.”

“That’s okay, really. But to answer your question, I’m a sucker myself for a good love story,” he grins teasingly, lifting his brows and earning a laugh from you. “And as odd as it may sound, I do care about you, L/N. You’re just... extremely likable.”

“I’m sorry, are we disturbing the two of you?” McGonagall’s voice startled you and Amos. She had a brow lifted and her nostrils were dangerously inflated.

“Oh, please! You could never bother us, Minnie!” You joke as you realize all eyes were on you and Diggory, so you had to pretend everything was fine. “You do teach the best subject in the school’s curriculum after all.”

“Then I suggest you two quit chatting and start paying attention to my class,” she shoots back. Her lips were pressed in a thin line but you could swear you saw a shadow of a smile creep in there for a split second.

“I’m afraid Miss L/N won’t be paying much attention to your class today, Professor McGonagall,” Dumbledore’s voice waved from the doorstep. He had a serene and kind smile on his face. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

“Thank Godric!” You mutter to yourself, a sudden relief washing you. You were finally going to get back home, to your easy, romantically boring and happy life alongside with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Weren’t you?

McGonagall sighed heavily and shrugged before motioning for you to go. You quickly got your stuff together and followed the Headmaster to his office.

***

“So, can I go home already?” You ask barely waiting until you crossed the doors, your heart beating faster and full of hope.

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore offers you a sympathetic smile, sitting on his chair and pointing the one in front of him for you.

“But, sir, I’ve been here for weeks already,” you furrowed your brows in despair, occupying the offered seat.

“Time-turners are very temperamental and complex devices, Miss L/N. It can take some time before it gets fully functioning again; I told you that,” he interlaced his hands, lowering his head a little so he could look straight into your eyes.

“Pardon me, sir, I don’t want to sound rude, but... If you didn’t summon me here to bring me home, then why am I here at all?” You ask curiously.

Dumbledore just smiled at you whilst taking a few seconds to think. “I thought you could use the talking.”

You open your mouth but shut it immediately as you see him lifting a brow at you. You lower your eyes, thinking of what to say. You knew Dumbledore wanted to know why you had this rush to leave — given the dozen owls you sent him along the week — when you had a lot of close friends in this current timeline who you’d definitely miss and would definitely miss you as well. But how were you supposed to open up to him? How were you supposed to just open your mouth and say ‘yeah, you see, I fell in love with my best friend’s dad and ‘m actually besties with his mom as well, ha! Talk about double betrayal!”

“How is Mr. Potter? — James, I mean,” he asks bluntly, adding the latter after he noticed you were about to deflect the real question by mentioning Harry.

“He’s... alright, I guess,” you shrug, trying to look unimpressed.

“Is he? I don’t think that anyone who doesn’t have their best friend by their side can be classified as alright,” he smiled, his glare intense from behind his half-moon spectacles.

“Godric, you really do know everything that happens inside these walls, don’t ya?” You look at him in awe, genuinely impressed. “Sorry, sir, I mean no disrespect,” you add suddenly, earning an amused laugh from him.

“I like to keep myself up to date, yes. But in all seriousness Miss L/N, why do you think you’re here? Why do you think you came back to this specific time in history?”

“I... I wish I could know,” you whisper.

“What is the most powerful magic in the world?”

“Yours?!” You shrug, unsure if he meant what you thought.

Dumbledore laughs, grateful for your compliment. “Though I appreciate the compliment, the most powerful magic in the world is love, Y/N.”

You stare at him, sadness taking over your face as you were lost for words once again.

“Allow yourself to remember, Miss L/N,” Dumbledore smiled warmly at you.

***

Dumbledore’s words were floating on your mind as you walked aimlessly through the castle. He was known to be quite mysterious and it didn’t surprise you that he left you with an apparently senseless puzzle in hands instead of telling you exactly what you needed to do. Well, if he did, it wouldn’t be him. At first you had thought that you had to bring Lily and James together, due to the whole love-is-the-most-powerful-magic thing. But then he had told you to allow yourself to remember. Remember what, exactly?!

“Oh, fuck it!” You huffed in frustration, running both of your hands through your hair and sliding down the wall until you were sit on the floor. You shut your eyes and kept them that way in hope that once you opened them again, you’d wake up from this horrific nightmare.

You heard someone sitting beside you, but you still didn’t dare to open your eyes. It was probably Remus, Sirius or Lily, worried about you and ready to give you a lecture about the poor choices you had made in the last 24 hours. When the person slid their arm over your shoulder, you felt at ease. Your body could recognize his touch without flinching.

“You alright, love?” James asked you when you rested your head on his shoulder.

“No. Are you?” You finally opened your eyes and studied his face. His jaw was clenched and he was staring at the wall in front of him. No jokes, no warm smile. His eyes didn’t have the usual spark of eagerness. His nearly arrogant confident vibe was gone. He almost didn’t look like himself. You sighed heavily.

“Not really,” he rested his head on top of yours, reaching for your hand.

“I’m sorry. I really am,” you said sincerely, interlocking your fingers in his.

“I miss you. I just... i can’t lose you, okay? Not now, not ever,” he sighs.

“Me too. Not having you in my life every single day is the shittiest thing that could ever happen to me, Potter,” you hug him. James finally laughs and plants a kiss on top of your head.

“Same here, sweetheart. I don’t think I can be myself if I don’t have you around. You’re... part of who I am,” he smirks softly.

You rested your forehead in the crook of his neck, your thoughts fuzzy, wishing you could just kiss him right now and allow yourself to be truly happy for the first time in your life. But being the loyal friend you were, of course you suppressed this impetus you felt whenever he was around once again.

“Come on, let’s head back to the common room and let everyone breathe a sigh of relief that we’re on speaking terms again!” He joked after a while, getting on his feet and helping you to do the same.

As you made your way into the castle, James took your hand in his. You debated with yourself wether or not you should take it away, but it felt so right that you just shook the thought. Before he could say the password as you reached the Fat Lady portrait that guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor tower, you squeezed James’ hand. “Jamie...”

“Yeah?” He gave you a smile when he turned around to face you. The same smile that always turned your legs into melted jelly and caused your heart to beat like a drum.

“Promise me we’ll never loose each other again,” you say, hugging him and smashing your eyes shut.

“I couldn’t let you go if I tried,” he hugged you as tightly as he could. “You’re too bloody important to me.”

“Are we okay?”

“Always.”

The two of you just stood there in each other’s arms, enjoying the moment as much as you could before reality came smashing into your faces. And it didn’t take long to do so.

“Alright lovebirds, are you planning on moving any time soon or you’ll just stand there blocking the entrance forever?” A bored sixth year asked.

Blushing, both you and James let go of each other and muttered an apology, whilst the fellow Gryffindor rolled her eyes with an amused smirk.

“Just get together already, it’s getting quite embarrassing to see you painfully longing for each other year after year,” she shrugs before disappearing into the hole, leaving you and James with a dumbfounded look behind.

“Quite the crowd we have, huh love?” James asks with a laugh after seeing your pink-toned face.

“I think we just became more fascinating and eagerly awaited than the quidditch matches,” you frown playfully, bitting your lower lip whilst trying to shrug off the burning feeling in your cheeks.

James stared at you with a side smirk, his eyes lowering from yours until landing on your lips. The lips that he wanted to kiss every second of every day. The lips he wished belonged to him, but bitterly remembered it was now Diggory’s.

“What’s wrong?” You squeeze his shoulder as you noticed his smile fading and his face falling.

“Nothing, love. Let’s get inside,” he forces a smile before he too disappeared into the portrait hole. You stood there for a while, partially happy that you got your friendship with James mended, but also scared that it was only going to break your heart even more, and his own in the process.

“Are you coming in dear?” You hear the Fat Lady voice from beside you.

“Yeah! I’m just... sorry,” you shake your heard confusedly before crossing the frame yourself.

———————————————

Taglist: @treestarrrrrrrr @fanfic-enthusiast-collector @jgtfvhsg @jullianerey @silver-winter-wolf

[sevfanfic]

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 5: Jar of Stars

Word count: 1,545 

Classes began and the castle was filled with the constant buzz of life. The first few days were very hectic as students got settled but you were able to manage everything on your plate. You found yourself searching for Severus among the crowds often and when you exchanged glances you smiled at him and he would grin softly for a moment then return his face to it’s usual look. One morning you decided to sit next to him at breakfast.

“Good morning, professor.” 

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” 

You watched as students filled the large dining hall. A frown fell over Severus’ face as he watched the children, he couldn’t help but show his dislike of the dunderheads.

“You don’t like children very much, do you?” You laughed. 

“I tolerate them.” He chose his words carefully. 

“What are you going to do if you ever have your own?” The question slipped before you could think about what you were asking. He looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“The thought never crossed my mind.” He spoke quietly. Maybe having a family was possible for him but the idea of it seemed very distant. 

You looked away feeling embarrassed about asking such a personal question. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of breakfast, you smiled and gave him a friendly nod goodbye when it was time for classes to begin. Your students had already been sitting in your classroom when you arrived. Classes went by quickly but during one of the last classes of the day, a 5th year slytherin student was being difficult. 

“Please keep the chatter down.” You raised your voice, targeting the students in the back row. The boy who had been talking during your class looked at you and rolled his eyes, he continued to talk with his friend. You made your way down the middle aisle and placed both hands on the edge of his desk.

“I know you don’t care about listening but others do. So either stop talking or you can leave.” 

“Why would I care about what you have to say?” He spoke with a spiteful tone.

“Because I can make things very difficult for you,” you smiled at him, hoping that he’d back down, “so make your choice.” 

“I’ll leave,” The boy began gathering his things and mumbled to himself “bloody creature of dirt.”

“Alright, please report to your head of house for detention tomorrow.” You walked back to the front of the class not letting the insults bother you, “Now where were we.” 

After finishing the lecture you walked to Severus’ office hoping to find him available to talk to. You knocked lightly on the door and heard him speak to enter. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” he looked up from his papers for a moment and then quickly returned to what he was doing, “what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could ask for advice?” You walked hesitantly toward the large desk. Severus didn’t look up.

“Yes?”

“Is it… Petty of me to give a student detention in the first week of school?” 

“No, presumably they deserve it?” He looked up with a raised brow.

“Yes, well I believe so. He called me a ‘creature of dirt’ but-”

“He deserves far worse than detention,” he looked furious, “who was the mongrel that called you that?” 

“Vincent Blythe.” 

“If that dunderhead has any ounce of self preservation he’ll never use such terms again after I’m done with him.” Severus looked back down at his work. He knew that the boy was referring to you as a mudblood. He hated the word and felt that it had caused too much damage to this world because of those who stood by it’s flawed ideology. You were impressed by the amount of rage that emanated from the man that sat in front of you.

“I hope you understand that you are not-” he paused and waved his hand as if bating away his disgust, “-not a ‘creature of dirt’.” He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I know, it doesn’t bother me.” You paused. “One other thing,” you stepped closer to his desk, “I’ve been practicing some non-verbal spells and I’ve hit a road-block.” Severus looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. “I spoke with Flitwick but I am more confused now than I was before.” 

“Non-verbal magic is an advanced form of magic, it takes years to master. It may be too advanced for you.” He spoke cautiously.

“I can do it,” you stood tall in defense, “I just need a little help, that’s all.” 

“Very well,” Severus smirked and stood from his desk, “show me what you can do so far.”

You spent most of the evening with Severus practicing new spells. He admired your eagerness to learn and how much you improved in that short period of time. Watching you warmed his heart and he was eager to have more moments like this. He noticed how you nibbled your bottom lip when you were trying to concentrate and how excited you got when you were successful.  Soon it was time for dinner, you thanked Severus for the small lesson and when you turned to leave he stopped you.

“Come back tomorrow after dinner, I’ll be able to help you more.” He gave you a small smile and you nodded with delight.

Your meetings with Severus in his office became a habit. The two of you usually sat in his office working silently on grading papers and quizzes for about an hour. After that he began his lessons on non-verbal magic. You listened intently to every word hoping to one day be as talented as he was. At times you’d go off on long rants about your students and random ideas. Severus always listened patiently. He didn’t mind that you got distracted easily, he enjoyed hearing your thoughts.

“Focus, you need to clear your mind and visualize the spell.” Severus spoke with a stern tone. You furrowed your brow trying to do as you were told. You struggled with clearing your mind completely but each time you attempted you did better. You visualized the spell and soon you could feel the magic tingling at your fingertips. The feather you had been staring at began to float. Then you tried a different spell and the edges of the feather began to burn and it disappeared in a poof of smoke. 

“I think I get it now.” You beamed at the tall man who looked amused. You had spent many evenings practicing and you felt confident in your new abilities. 

“Good,” he turned and went to the closet at the back of his room. He searched for a moment and then produced a small jar, “this is for you.” He spoke in a low voice, almost mumbling.  

Inside the glass jar was a dark liquid. He handed it to you and when you touched it small particles of light began to shimmer as they floated in a dance-like pattern. It resembled fireflies and stars. You smiled in amazement.

“It’s so beautiful, what is it?” You held the jar close to your face examining its contents.

“It’s a potion that is meant to resemble the night sky, if brewed correctly it will also display the current phase of the moon.” He waved his hand over the glass and you watched as a small moon appeared amidst the dark fluid. One lazy day he had been thinking about the night you stood with him in the tower and how peaceful you looked gazing at the night sky. During one of your side tracked conversations you mentioned how much you loved the stars and moon. You described how as a child you dreamed of becoming an astronaut and you thought Severus wasn’t listening but he was. He paid attention to every detail because he wanted to know you. 

“It’s amazing,” you looked at Severus, “thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me.” You wanted to hug the man in front of you but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate it. So you held the jar against your chest, close to your heart. 

Watching you smile and hold his gift close made Severus melt, he felt his heart grow warm and he revealed a small smile. 

After realizing you had been standing there staring at each other for what seemed like hours, you awkwardly spoke, “It's getting late, I should go.” Severus watched as you gathered your stuff and fumbled with your books. Suddenly, words blurted from his mouth before he could even realize he was speaking. 

“Have dinner with me.” He watched you intently, hoping to glean an idea of what you were thinking.

“Like a date?” You spoke slowly.

“I suppose,” he muttered, “If that’s alright with you?” Severus was genuinely nervous about what you would say.

“Yes, that’s alright with me.” 

“Good,” he could see your cheeks brighten from across the room, “have a good night, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Goodnight, Professor.”

When in the hall you brought a hand to your cheek hoping to cool the redness. He made you feel like there was fire under your skin and it fueled your ever growing attraction. 

[getinthering]

Taang Week Day 2: Modern AU

“Thursday, never looking back,”

[ @taangweek​ Day 2: Modern AU

After only two weeks of spring semester, Aang is fed up and ready to drop his geology class.]

A/N: i wanna redo this and make it better and i really struggled with the world-building here ngl so I couldn’t really come up with good names for the buildings or profs.  what can you do¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Inspired by tumblr user @rllyjohnrlly’s modern au, specifically this post.

Read on AO3

***

Science, as Aang was learning, was absolutely not what he had thought it would be.  When he was still in high school, he excitedly declared a zoology major on all of his college applications, thinking he would turn his love for animals into a lifelong career.

All it took was his first college-level biology class to quickly bury that idea.  Between that and chemistry for non-majors, he felt resigned to the idea that all science classes were a bad idea for him, and that he’d better just pick the easiest one in the catalog to round out his general requirements.  Which is how he found himself enrolled in the Introduction to Geology class his freshman spring semester.  He’d learned the three types of rocks and the basics in high school, how hard could it be?

(the answer was very hard)

(but slightly less hard than biology)

After the second week of class, he sat on the floor of Katara’s dorm, textbook draped across his lap as she sat at her desk, diligently working on her homework.  She really excelled at the very classes that almost killed him and he admired that about her.

“Ugh!” Aang groaned, slamming his textbook shut and throwing his head back onto her bed.   “Katara, this is awful.” 

She set her pen down and shifted in her chair to face him, the look on her face one of confusion and concern.  “What’s the matter?” 

“I can’t do this!  I hate this class,” he replied, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“Aang, what are you talking about?  You can’t hate a class already, we’re only two weeks into the semester!  What could possibly be so bad about it now?” Katara asked, getting up from her chair and walking over to sit across from him.

He sighed and let his hands fall back into his lap.   He rolled his head to look at her.  “Because it’s awful!  I knew it probably wouldn’t be much fun, but I thought at least it would be pretty easy.  And it’s not!  It’s so hard and so boring and the professor is the most lame professor I have ever met.” 

(she couldn’t help but smirk at that)

“Okay, well, you’re not going to find a class that’s easy, especially in your weakest subject.  It’s just not going to happen.  Maybe it’ll get more interesting after the first few chapters.  Those are always just introductory anyway, they’re way more boring than the rest of the class.” She could see he wasn’t convinced and added, “The drop period was over Friday, anyway, so if you’re going to take a withdrawal, you might as well wait until after the first test.  Maybe it won’t be as hard as you’re expecting.” 

Aang sighed.  She was right.  He hated when she was right.  “Fine.  I’ll stick it out through the first test, but can we please take a study break now?”

***

Thursday morning, Aang walked into the lecture hall, trying his best not to drag his feet.  It took all of his determination that morning to make his way to class instead of staying holed up in his dorm, playing video games until he got hungry.  But he’d promised Katara and he knew he would get an earful if he broke his promise.  Maybe if he just pretended he was Katara for a period, he’d have more ease with the class.  Katara wouldn’t sit in the back, as was his first impulse, she would sit in the very first row.

He compromised and sat about four rows back.  Earbud in one ear, he set his notebook on the table and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the texts from his friends that he’d missed on his walk.  He didn’t notice when a dark-haired girl sat in the seat next to him until she tapped on his notebook.  Startled, he yanked out the earbud and looked at her.  “Um, hello?”

The girl looked at him 

(he couldn’t help but notice how pale her eyes were and the weird quality to her gaze that he couldn’t pinpoint)

and said, “You normally sit all the way in the back.  What are you doing up here now?  We haven’t even had a test.  Did you get in trouble or something?” 

His cheeks felt warm and he knew he was blushing.  “No, I just felt like maybe I’d learn better closer to the front.  This stuff has been kind of hard for me so far, I guess.” 

The look on her face was a little unsettling, like she was staring straight through him.  She finally shrugged, turning away from him.  “What’s so hard about geology?”

“I don’t know.   I guess science classes just don’t come very easily to me.”

“Well lucky for you, geology is, like, as easy as they get,” she said.  He didn’t feel especially reassured, but smiled a little anyway.

“So what you’re saying is you’ll help me study?”  Aang asked sheepishly.

She snorted, but replied, “Maybe I will.  What’s your major, anyway?”  

“Oh, um,” he stuttered, feeling the redness in his face deepening and rubbing his neck in embarrassment.  “I was a zoology major, but right now I’m undeclared.” He wanted to ask her the same question, wanted suddenly to know everything about this brazen, somewhat guarded girl who had sat next to him (and had noticed that it was not his normal seat), but was cut off by the professor calling the class’s attention to the lectern.

***

Seventy-five painstaking minutes of trying

(and failing) 

to pay attention to the powerpoint in front of him instead of the dark-haired girl leaned back in the seat next to him later, the class was dismissed.  The girl had stood, grabbing her bag, and Aang panicked for a moment, trying to think of something to say.  He finally settled on asking if he could walk her to her next class.

She paused, turning her head towards him.  “Well, it’s all the way over in the Humanities building.”

“That’s okay, that’s on the way to my dorm, and I don’t have another class for an hour, anyway.” He swore he saw her smile as she rolled her eyes and said, “Fine.  You can walk with me.” 

They talked the whole way there, never seeming to run out of topics.  He was disappointed at how short the walk felt, having so much more to ask her.  He’d found out she was an architecture major with a lifelong special interest in geology, lived in the freshman dorms by the Physical Sciences lecture hall, and that despite being blind, she was as in-tune with her surroundings as anyone.  It was only after they said their goodbyes that he realized he’d never learned her name.

***

Her name, as it turned out, was Toph.

Every Tuesday and Thursday over the next three weeks, they sat next to each other and Aang walked her to her next class.  He actually found motivation to study his notes for the first time, if only for the fact that the recordings she shared with him featured their conversations in the background of the lecture.  

Once, he had been running late after sleeping through his alarms, and while his first impulse had been to go back to sleep and skip his first class of the day, he bolted out of bed and rushed to get dressed, worrying that someone would take his seat next to Toph.

(or worse, she wouldn’t even notice)

He nearly ran all the way across campus.  Heart pounding, he snuck through the doorway as the professor lectured on and slipped into his usual seat next to Toph.  She lifted her head; something he couldn’t quite place flashed over her face.

(relief?)

“Finally decided to show up, huh?” she whispered.

He started to explain himself, but stopped short, deciding on a better way to embarrass himself.  “Yeah.  I got caught up trying to figure out why you’re so good at this class.” 

“Did you figure it out?” 

“It’s because you don’t take anything for granite.”  He looked over to catch the way the corner of her lips tugged upwards through the taken-aback look on her face.

“That was awful.  Don’t do that again,” she hissed at him.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, chuckling to himself.  “You know what I would’ve been if I hadn’t shown up today?” 

“What’s that?”

“A skipping stone.” 

The irritated expression she wore intensified, fending off the smile he so desperately wanted to see.  “Seriously, you have got to stop doing that.  I don’t like puns, especially when they’re that bad.” 

“My sediments exactly.”  He almost expected her to hit him, but was delighted to hear a giggle escape.  A warm feeling spread through his chest and he knew then that he would spend every last moment he had for the rest of her life trying to make her laugh again.

***

“You guys!” Aang exclaimed, slamming the door to Sokka’s apartment closed a little harder than he had meant to.  He continued into the living room, all but throwing himself onto the couch next to Katara without so much as a “hello” to her, Sokka, or Suki.  “I had the most amazing date today.” 

Sokka looked up from where he sat, getting his hair braided, between Suki’s legs.  “You had a date?  With who?” 

“Was it that girl from your geology class?” Katara asked. 

“Yes!  Her name is Toph and I finally got her number and we’ve been talking, like, non-stop,” he blurted all at once.

“Slow down!” Katara giggled.  “Are you going to tell us about the date?” 

“Right, so I’ve sat next to her in geology since I’ve been wanting to do better in that class.  That’s been a bad idea as far as paying more attention, but spirits, it’s been the best.  I was almost late this morning because I slept through my alarms.”  Seeing the admonishing look on Katara’s face, he added, “I actually got up as soon as I realized and went to class, don’t worry, Momtara.  Anyway, I got to class just as the prof was starting the powerpoint, and when I first walked in, I was worried someone else might have taken the seat next to her that I’ve been sitting in, but no one had.  And she actually seemed like she was looking for me.  I mean, she can’t see, but still, when I finally got there and sat down, I swear it looked like she was happy to see me.” 

Not leaving room for Sokka to make a disparaging joke, Aang recounted the jokes he’d told her,

(which he definitely stayed up several nights in a row to come up with) 

how she’d acted like she’d hated them, but he’d caught her snickering a few times.  

“So you asked her out after class?” Suki asked.

Aang blushed and ran a hand through his short hair.  “Not exactly.”  He held up his hands in protest of his friends’ exclamations.  “I always walk her to her next class because it’s on the way to my dorm and I always want to keep talking to her.  Well, we get all the way to the Humanities building and she looks at me and says, ‘I don’t really feel like going to this class today.’” 

“She skipped class?” Suki asked with a mock-scandalous tone.  “Maybe you two are meant for each other.” 

“I know!” Aang said, ignoring the jab entirely.  “And, Katara, don’t give me that look.  I would have convinced her to go to class, but the opportunity was there and I couldn’t pass up taking her to lunch.” Grinning, he told them about how Toph had loosened up while they ate, even agreeing to try his favorite vegan restaurant in the main commons, how cute she was when she smiled at him.  She had even agreed to a study date the following night.

He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face when he asked, “So would you guys be okay if she came to hang out with us this weekend?” 

[violet-knox]

Sweets and Treats

Year 7 - Chapter 56

Summary: Taking a break from your studies, Severus takes you out on a date at Hogsmeade. 

Word count: 3496

A/N: I was beginning to think I’d never update 😂 I have too many things to write 😭

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1 

~

The bell hanging above Honeydukes’ door rang as you stepped outside, popping another bean into your mouth, humming at the delightful chocolate flavor swirling around your tongue. Severus was right as always, this trip to the village was a much needed breather, away from your studies, from Quidditch, from all your worries. You could enjoy a change in scenery, walk through a part of the Wizarding World you’d very rarely gotten to enjoy in the past. 

Everywhere you went with Severus was special to you this year. Even in Cokeworth, the most bland, unmagical town in England was made glamorous in your eyes simply because you got to spend your time with him. Diagon Alley, your first step back into the Wizarding World became a thousand times more exhilarating with Severus by your side. First day of classes had never been so enticing, Quidditch never so thrilling, (though your position as Captain may have been to blame for that one). 

It was no different with this little village. Severus made walking down this street all the more illuminating and you were beyond joyful for his presence.  

“Just try one Sev,” you said as you tried passing the box of Every Flavored Beans you had in your hands to him. 

Severus rose a brow as the sound of the compressed sugar candies hit the sides of the cardboard box that held them. You shook it in front of him as if the motion would entice him into chewing one of those wretched beans of death. 

“No,” he said, his lips tugging downwards as his nose wrinkled in disgust, “Those flavors are horrendous. Even if you get a good one, you still have to endure the unpleasant sweetness that comes with jellybeans.” He sounded as though he was trying to lecture you in your choice of candy, but that wasn’t going to stop you from loving that passion in his eyes that shinned when he spoke to you. “Why do you like those things anyways? Honeydukes has much more gratifying treats. Wouldn’t you rather have a Chocolate Frog instead of gambling your taste buds?” 

You bit your bottom lip, a giggle rumbling through your throat as you listened to his evident hatred for such a small, harmless treat.

“Because it’s fun!” You gave as much enthusiasm as you could, just to tease his gloomy attitude. “It’s thrilling to see what flavor you could get.”

“And when you get a bad flavor?”

“Then you laugh it off and try another!” Your smile grew as he narrowed his eyes, unable to believe your worlds. “The bad ones are part of the fun Sev! Please, just try one.”

You shook the box once more, the clicking of his doom more rapid this time. He let out a long sigh as he slowed to a stop in the middle of the road and reached into your box, retrieving a yellow jellybean. Your lips stretched from ear to ear and he kicked himself for his inability to resist pleasing you. One day he’d learn to put his foot down, but clearly, today was not that day. 

Bringing the yellow treat to his mouth, he pressed it against his lips as he peered into your shimmering eyes, filled with delight. His own joy seeped from him as he smiled before letting the candy in his hand slip between his lips, landing in the middle of his tongue. Slowly, and regrettably, he bit down on the yellow bean, feeling the flavor release and swirl in his mouth. There was no going back now. 

“Well?” You asked in anticipation, watching him slowly chew, holding his expression perfectly still. 

“Earwax,” he mumbled before turning his head to the side and spitting it out. You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him desperately try to get that awful taste off his tongue. Pulling out your wand, you vanished the half-chewed bean before putting away the rest of the box and reaching back into your robe to pull out a chocolate frog.

Silently, you handed it to him as an apology for the earwax jellybean he’d chewed, even if his reaction was a bit exaggerated considering the other flavours he could have gotten. Stopping his motion, he looked down at the familiar blue packaging in your hand and smiled. The fact that you’d both come full circle, enjoying Chocolate Frogs together in that train compartment when you first met, and now as a couple with the same treat, was the strongest magic he’d ever gotten the pleasure to experience. 

Mischievous as always, Severus reluctantly decided against tearing open the package and instead went to grip your waist as he quickly pulled you in for a kiss. His movement took you by surprise as you stood there frozen by his touch. It wasn’t until you tasted the earwax on his tongue that you suddenly snapped back, pushing on his chest and pressing the back of your hand to your mouth. But it was too late, that awful taste had seeped into your own taste buds, overpowering that of the chocolate flavoured bean you’d had earlier. 

“What was that you were saying about laughing it off and trying another?” He teased as he watched your abrupt reaction to his kiss. 

“Shut up!” you pushed him once again as he began to chuckle. At least he’d had fun sharing his misery. But you couldn’t let him win. You had to stand by what you said and prove to him you weren’t wrong, so you quickly tugged on his robes and crashed your lips with yours, doing your best not to focus on the taste as he hummed in surprise before parting. 

Your giggles slowly died down as your eyes met, his smile more radiant, softening those charcoal eyes of his. Stepping forward, you pressed yourself almost entirely against him, your hands moving down to his own, holding up the Chocolate Frog in a motion to open it and rid you both of the aftertaste left by the earwax jellybean. 

Deciding to put you both out of your misery, Severus silently opened the box, quickly grabbing the frog and handing you the packaging. He took a bite out of the treat as you went to retrieve the card from inside. Salazar Slytherin. A rare card Severus had yet to collect. Exchanging the card for the second half of the frog, you both made your way down the road, Severus reading the back of his new card in glee. 

“Shall we grab some tea to wash down those sweets?” he said, nudging in the direction of Madam Poodifoot’s Tea Shop down the road. 

Peering down the street, you recognized the little shop as the one place all couples seemed to prefer over the Three Broomsticks or even the Hogshead. It was the main reason you’d always stayed away, never wanting to bring attention to yourself in your years at Hogwarts. Even with Severus last year, what with all the secrecy and need for privacy, neither of you had ever showed interest in popping into that shop. The last thing you’d expected from him was to flaunt your status as a couple to the rest of the school. 

“You want to go in there?” your voice was so low, it almost passed as a whisper when you turned your attention back to him. Of course you’d dreamt of one day heading into that shop with your boyfriend, but Severus, well, he was the last person you’d have expected to take you. 

“You don’t?” He said as he gently ran the tip of his fingers along your hairline, pushing the few strands you had framing your face back. His hand immediately went to cup your jaw and you couldn’t help but step just a little closer to him, your own hands going to his waist, your eyes lost in his. He could take you to the moon for all you cared, so long as he’d continue to be by your side, so close to you. 

“No, I just have never considered it before.” You almost sounded lovestruck and if Severus didn’t know better, he’d say someone had snuck you a love potion. But he did know better and the look in your eyes was one quite familiar to him after almost a full year together. It was the same look he was sure you’d grown to enjoy when he looked at you. 

“And now?” His voice had lowered to a whisper, so delicate, so… charming. 

“And now,” you said, smiling like a little girl trying to hide her excitement, “I have you to take.”

Your smile was so contagious, even now, standing here in public with you, he couldn’t resist his lips twitching to replicate yours. He slid his hands down your arms, grabbing them firmly right above your elbows, trying to restrain himself from feeling anymore of you. 

“Correction. I have you to take.” 

That warranted a small giggle from you as your hands moving up to rest on his chest. Your hands. How he loved to feel them on his chest, around his waist, caressing his cheek. He could spend eternity locked away if he’d be allowed the simple pleasure of your gentle touch.

“Lead the way then.” But the only movement you made was to lean on him as much as the bags around your elbows allowed. 

Severus’ smile turned into that sly smirk he gave whenever he contemplated kissing you, and you loved to watch him give in every time, no matter where you were or what you were doing, he’d always give in. Quickly pressing his lips to yours, you felt his body melt under your palms, his shoulders dropping with the mere taste of your lips. Always so eager, always so needy, and of course, you’d always obliged. Grasping fists full of his uniform, you pulled him close, your lips moving against his until you both parted for air.

Severus watched your eyes flicker open and your lips stretch in the most delicately sweet smile as he held you in your corner of Hogsmeade. There was nothing in this world he wouldn’t give you, nothing he’d care more about and he wanted the whole world to know that. 

Shifting his own Scrivenshaft’s shopping bags to one hand, he intertwined your fingers with the other and began making his way down the street before the brilliant idea of taking out those dreadful beans he knew you were brewing came to light. 

The shop was practically overflowing with love, every table accompanied by at least one couple, but the crowd didn’t stop you from spotting a very peculiar pair sitting in the left corner by the window. A couple that had melted away your smile and brought down your high on joy. 

The small glimpse of red hair brought back all those awful memories of Severus’ betrayal. His worst moment, the one he’d tried so hard to mend, the one you tried so hard to forget. But it was still there, burning a hole in the back of your mind. Never had you been so excited to graduate Hogwarts and finally rid yourself of such horrors, separating them from what had gone right in your life.  

Tightening your hold on Severus, you tucked your hair behind your ear, uncomfortably peeling your gaze away from the couple, trying everything you could to focus on your date instead. But it was too late, Severus had already noticed your change in mood and had followed your gaze to the corner where he saw his childhood friend having what looked like quite the lovely chat with his school tormentor. 

He’d told her so many times Potter fancied her, that everything he did to put himself above others was a pathetic attempt to woo her. She’d never even tried to listen and looking back now, he realized; she never wanted to hear it. She was simply waiting for Potter to scramble his brains back in a more respectable order before finally accepting his want for her. 

It angered him to see them together. The girl he’d longed for, the girl he’d fought so hard for, his ex-best friend, sitting there with that ignorant git, lovestruck and blinded. He was the reason his Hogwarts experience was tainted and she… she was the reason you’d gone crying out of the Astronomy Tower last year on Christmas. 

Turning his head back around, his eyes met yours and he could see the hurt you’d felt that night in the depth of your pupils, his own chest aching from the sight. 

“We-we don’t have to stay,” he whispered in a voice so low you’d almost say he sounded ashamed, like it was his fault the smallest glance of another person’s hair reminded you of your broken heart. And though you’d forgiven him, though you didn’t blame him for the memories leaking into your mind right now, he was partly to blame for how you felt and that was something you could never help. 

You shook your head, rejecting his offer and instead made your way to the very back corner of the room, grabbing the booth the couple you’d passed as you entered the shop had left. Seclusion was always best when it came to the two of you anyways so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for you to sit as far away from everyone else in this shop.  

“Has he bothered you as of late?” You asked nervously as you thought back to all the times you watched James taunt Severus.

“No, he hasn’t come near me since the second task last year.” 

You sighed with relief as you removed your cloak and set it aside, along with your new school supplies (and your favourite sweets of course). It was good to hear Severus had finally been relieved of the pain James and his friends seemed to enjoy inflicting on him.

“Sorry,” you said, your head bowed low as you played with the buttons on the end of your sleeves, “I didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”

“It’s not your fault.” Severus shook his head as he slid his hands across the table, offering them to you. He could see the corner of your lip twitched as your eyes followed his movements, your own hand slowly reaching up from under the table to be placed in his. Leaning forward as far as the table would allow, he shot you a quick smile before attempting to bring up your spirit. “How about we talk instead about the amazing job you did on that essay you wrote for Transfiguration?” 

“You really think so?” And just like that he had you smiling like a little school girl again, cheeks covered in blush. He loved how red your face could get when he complimented you like that. 

Biting your lip, you looked back down at the table, refraining from sharing the true nature of your little extracurricular project with McGonagall, hoping to instead surprise him sometime in the near future and you were about to reply when the waitress came over, asking for your order to which you both slowly slid apart, leaning back against the cushions behind you. 

Severus ordered right away, asking for the tea he knew you loved (because you wouldn’t stop talking about it that night you had at the Leaky Cauldron, as if hinting at something), his own cup of lavender tea as well as a tray of Jammie Dodgers. 

“What?” he asked as soon as the waitress left. Your eyes sparkled like the moon and your bottom lip caught between your teeth as if you had a secret to tell. 

You shook your head as you placed your hands on your lap, your eyes following your fingers as they traced the pattern of your skirt. “I love you,” you said simply, voice so soft he could fall asleep listening to it.

Your eyes met, activating that magnetic charge between your bodies and you both began shuffling deeper into the booth until his arm was around your shoulder and your hand was on his knee. You leaned into him, his hair brushing against the side of your face as his fingers travelled down your curve, resting right above your hip, where your shirt met your skirt. With his lips pressed against the top of your head, your scent filling his mind, your breath matching his heartbeat, steady and tame, you both became to feel at ease. There was nothing you wouldn’t give just to spend the rest of your life here in this booth, secluded away from the rest of the horrible world in his arms. You’d make a world of your own, just you and Severus, living in bliss. 

The waitress came back too soon, startling you both as she set your tea and biscuits on the table before you. Giving his knee a small squeeze under the table, you went to reach for your belongings and retrieve your money bag when you heard the jingling of coins hitting the mahogany table. 

“It’s on me,” he said as you watched him hand the waitress three Gallons and five Sickles. You sat there silently as she told you both to enjoy your tea before making her way. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered nervously. You’d never enjoyed watching others paid for you, even if they were returning the favour. Some would call it a pride thing, others would call it selflessness, but in truth, you just didn’t want anyone to think you couldn’t make your own way. “I would have paid my fair share.”

Severus smiled as he slid his hand around your back, gripping your hip as he pulled you back into his embrace.

“I know,” he said, bringing his index finger under your chin, his thumb teasingly swiping your lips as his eyes screamed with hunger. “I wanted to.” You’d done so much for him these last three years, the least he could do was buy you a lousy cup of tea. 

You sat there, stunned in your place as you fell for his trance once again, wanting nothing more than for him to take you right here in this booth. A small ball of desire burst in your stomach and you felt your cheeks tint pink as you thought of all those moments in the Astronomy Tower, your rooms back at Cokeworth or the Leaky Cauldron, his hands gliding so perfectly over your skin, his breath hitching every time your lips parted from his.

“Thank you, Sev,” you whispered, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

Taking his hand in yours, you moved his thumb out of your way as you kissed him, your breath stolen by the same boy who’d taken your heart. You leaned further into him and slowly lead his hand down to the edge of your skirt as your own weaved itself in his hair. You could feel the tips of his fingers, cold against your bare skin and you wanted him to slide them up further, you wanted more, but you knew he wouldn’t do such a thing here, even if you were hidden in the corner behind such a deep booth. 

You kept him steady as you parted, wanting to tease him further, keeping your lips so close to his as his eyes flickered open. He sat there, waiting in anticipation for your next move. He couldn’t lie, he loved it when you teased him like this. Smirking, you gently bit on his bottom lip before leaning back, your hand slipping through his long locks and resting on his shoulder. Neither of you made a single move as you enjoyed each other's gaze, your eyes running over every feature of one the others face, memorizing every tone, every curve, every detail. Severus always enjoyed running his fingers over your skin during these times and you knew nothing would hold him back as his fingers so delicately ran across your cheek, your lips, your chin. 

“Tea’s getting cold,” he’d whispered, doing his best not to lose control. But how could anyone expect such a thing from him when he had such a beautiful girl centimetres away from him. 

You nodded your head and finally broke your gaze to pick up your cup as he reached for his own. Severus kept his arm firmly around your waist as you nibbled on some Jammie Dodgers and sipped on your tea. As you both picked up your prior conversation, Severus began to wish the school would give its students access to Hogsmeade every day because he would have loved nothing more than to end every night right here in this very booth, cuddled with you over a cup of tea. He’d have to take a mental note to try and replicate this moment later, but for now, he could enjoy the sweet sound of your voice, the enchanting smell of your hair and the elegant touch of your skin.

~

Next Chapter

~

@dusk-realm @a-slytherin-sin @trashandshook @gbatesx @sneezy-s @emsdroid @leah-halliwell92 @dellightfullydeceitful @sparklingkeylimepie @nameless-sovereign @living-in-margins @justanobodyinthisbigworld @soft-slytherin-sweetie @youtube4life10 @scarletmoon83 @fluffymadamina @sleepysnapesnake @michellemsg

[alright--okay]

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 3

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~2.8 k

a/n: the first five chapters are already on ao3 so imma post them here real quick, hope anyone reading enjoys!

read on ao3!

pt. 3 Girl Scout Cookies - Mom Jeans.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Tsukishima said as you walked into the lecture hall, gesturing to your outfit.

“I don’t understand the question.” You calmly replied taking a seat beside him, only to awkwardly bring your legs up to the chair in front of you. The attempt to look laid back and “chill” clearly not working.

Tsukishima widened his eyes and pointedly shifted his gaze to your plaid pants.

“They’re my fun pants!”

“Is fun the word we’re gonna use?”

“Yes. We are. Because these,” you gestured to the patterned pants, “are a statement piece and fashionable. I look trendy and professional.”

“You look like you got lost on your way to an underground cafe that serves farm-fresh honey.”

“That sounds delightful, not gonna lie.” You turned away from Tsukishima to start unpacking your materials for the class. “Oh, and before I forget, I figured you’d like to know that Yachi was very happy to see you again.”

Tsukishima let a small smile slip onto his face at that, “I’m sure, Yachi was close with a lot of us on the volleyball team; when we got to college it just got harder to coordinate, even if we were at the same school.” He turned to look at the pen he had been playing with in his hand, “It was nice to see her too.”

“Aw, Tsukishima, you do have a heart!” You laughed. Even though you had known Tsukishima for a short period of time, it was easy to get comfortable around him. You actually kinda enjoyed his snarky attitude and it was fun to tease him. Not to mention Yachi trusted the dude so you knew he had to be a good person (even if it was deep down).

Tsukishima attempted to ignore you the rest of the class for that comment but decided to bother you by pushing your elbow off your shared armrest every chance he got.

After the third time your pen ran down the page in an abrupt straight line, you stoned your face and silently looked forward, ignoring the chuckles Tsukishima was hiding behind his hand. You slide the small lecture desk back in its place and calmly made your way to one seat over. Once settled again you turned to Tsukishima who was already looking at you with bright eyes and a poorly repressed smile.

“I’m not having it.”

~~~

From Tsukishima archeology:

hey i don’t know if you’d be interested but me yamaguchi and our other roommates were gonna have a game night situation tonight

i think yamaguchi told yachi about it but i wanted to let you know that youre welcome

to come that is

if you want to

You smiled at the texts. Yachi had informed you of the “game night situation” happening on Friday last night, but it had seemed wrong to impose. These were friends Yachi hadn’t seen in how long? And you were just supposed to crash their full reunion? But Yachi had taken the time to assure you that yes, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima were friends from high school, but their other roommates were really just “friends-of-friends”.

She had convinced you to come with her to be another familiar face, but having Tsukishima explicitly invite you made you feel better about the situation as a whole.

To Tsukishima archeology:

yeah yachi told me !! ill see you there :)

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and continued your walk away from campus to your apartment with Yachi. It was still the early afternoon and you were (thankfully) done with classes for the week, giving you plenty of time to mentally prepare for a night of socialization with a group of people you largely didn’t know.

What the fuck did you agree to?

~~~~~~

“So she is confirmed coming?” Yamaguchi asked from the kitchen, peering around the corner to see Tsukishima, hunched over his phone starring at the screen.

“Yeah, she’s coming with Yachi.”

“I still can’t believe she knows Yachi,” Yamaguchi said, shaking his head slightly as he sat beside Tsukishima on the couch. “Well, at least it gave us a reason to reach out, right? I’ve missed my favorite blonde.”

Tsukishima beside him sat up, looking at his friend, “Oh so I’m number two?”

“Sorry, but you’re number three,” Yamaguchi said with false sincerity, “Akiteru beat you out when he brought those pork buns last month.”

Tsukishima gave his friend a blank stare before falling back into the couch with a “shuddup Yamaguchi” mumbled under his breath, Yamaguchi only offering a snicker in response.

“Come on, get up. We have to prepare this place for tonight.” Yamaguchi stood, holding out a hand to help Tsukishima up.

“Prepare? It’s not like we’re throwing a party or something.”

“No, but we have a fairly tiny apartment and with eight peop-”

“Wait, eight? I thought there would only be six…” Tsukishima trailed off as he came to realize who the other two were.

Yamaguchi gave a nod, moving to fix the couches in the small space, “Yep. Bokuto was sad he couldn’t come last weekend so they’re taking the train in. They should be here in like an hour. Hope your new friend likes being interrogated.”

At this Tsukishima groaned. “I might have finally found a normal friend and those two are gonna ruin it.”

“Oh come on, Tsukki. Yeah, they’re loud and crash and have way too much energy BUT you love them.”

“I love Kenma and Akaashi, that’s the only way I deal with those buffoons.” Tsukishima paused before going to help Yamaguchi position the couch, “But for real … do you think they’ll scare y/n?“

“Tsukki, that girl can deal with you. I’m sure she’ll be fine with Kuroo and Bokuto. Plus Yachi is gonna be here, Kenma and Akaashi will keep them in line for her, and by proxy, y/n.”

Tsukishima knew this was true at least. Back in their first year of university, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi hung out a lot more and even back then Kuroo and Bokuto would come to visit their respective boyfriends. In the few times all of them would hang out together, Kenma and Akaashi made sure the two were respectful of Yachi, knowing how anxious she could get.

So as long as Kuroo and Bokuto didn’t get you alone, all should be fine.

~~~~~~

“Oho, ho, ho,” a man with black and white spiked hair approached you with wide eyes, getting borderline too close to your face before you even fully walked through the door, “who are you?”

“I’m y/n, it’s uh, nice to meet you.” you tried to give a casual smile as the man continued to make direct eye contact with you, “I like your hair.”

His face lit up with a blinding smile, “Thank you! Your hair is also very nice, very pretty, suits your face shape.” A genuine smile slipped on your face at the compliment, “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, I don’t live here.” His smile still in place, despite your now confused expression, “And Yachi! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Bokuto turned to your roommate who had been standing beside you, leaning down to give her a seemingly very tight hug.

“Hello, Bokuto-san!” This was not one of the people Yachi had told you about. She had mentioned Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s other two roommates, but nothing about a random boisterous man.

“Bokuto, please put her down.” A very pretty man came from around the corner, laying a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. Bokuto did such and turned to throw an arm around the man’s shoulders. “It’s nice to see you again, Yachi.” He now faced you with a small smile just barely curving his lips, “And you must be y/n? Tsukishima said he invited another friend.”

“Yes, that would be me. Can I assume you live here?”

“You can. I’m Akaashi Keiji and you’ve met my boyfriend I see.” Boyfriend got it. “Everyone else is in the kitchen getting snacks but feel free to get comfortable.” He gave you two another smile before going back down the hallway he came, Bokuto trailing behind him.

You and Yachi walked over to the small living room area in front of you, “Sorry I didn’t warn you about Bokuto, I didn’t realize he was coming.”

“It’s all good,” you said with a chuckle, “He seems nice.”

“He is! It probably means that Kuroo is here too, but don’t worry! He’s nice too! They can just get kind of … loud.” The two of you were interrupted by a freckled man (who you recognized as Yamaguchi from pictures Yachi had shown you) that walked into a room.

“Yachi! What’s up?” His smile was warm as the two met in a hug, “And y/n! It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Same. I’m happy to expand my social circle,” you said, returning his smile with a chuckle.

“So as for games-”

“Y/N!” You startled at your name being yelled by an unfamiliar man (possibly, Kuroo? He was already loud) power walking from the hallway. Tsukishima was quickly trailing behind him, trying to act calm but obviously failing. “Were you the vixen that swept our dear Tsukki away last Saturday night?”

Your wide-eyed gaze met Tsukishima’s (who looked physically in pain), “Perhaps.” Tsukishima closed his eyes, seeming to anticipate the following smirk that grows on the man’s face at your answer. “But in my defense, Yachi was there too.”

“Yes, but Tsukki didn’t know that, did he.” Eyes turn to Tsukishima, who was now sitting at the end of the couch, a hand rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.

“Can we move on?”

“No! We cannot, but first,” Kuroo looks to Bokuto, both straightening their backs as they say simultaneously, “shots?”

Oh, this was going to be a fun night.

~~~

“Tsukishima. Tsukishima … Tsuki … shima”

“Can I help you?”

“Please let me try on your glasses.” Okay so maybe the sixth shot was a bad idea. “Please, I just want to see how blind you are.”

You were usually okay when it came to drinking, never getting too wild or out of control, but the vibe of the night mixed with Tsukishima still being annoyingly sober after three drinks made you more … talkative.

“I’m not blind.” Tsukishima relented, slipping his glasses from his face and into your waiting hand, and subsequently onto your face.

“Damn, you really aren’t, this is a pussy prescription.” Your eyes were slightly glazed as they looked around the living room, not being able to focus on the shapes of the room.

Kuroo broke into a cackle from his position on the floor playing a card game with Bokuto, Akaashi, and Yachi, “Fucking burn Tsukki.”

“Kuroo.” Kenma called, curled around a pillow on the couch, phone clutched in hand.

“Sorry, sorry. Quiet voice, shhhh.” Kenma gave a nod and returned to his huddled position.

You focused back on Tsukishima, giving him his glasses, “I used to wear glasses, you know. My prescription was really bad. I’ve been wearing contacts recently though, hence the,” you gestured to your face, lacking frames.

“So that’s how you know I have a ‘pussy prescription’?”

“Heh wait, ‘pussy prescription,’ I just realized.” You giggled at him, “Like the opposite of a dick appointment.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that conversation. Want some water?”

“Yes, but also!” You faced the other members of the group in their various positions around the small room, “can we order food?”

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Bokuto sprang up, already going around the room to take orders before calling in an order to a local restaurant, known to be specifically used by drunk college students at two a.m.

While Bokuto and Kuroo left to pick up the order, you quietly sat back down next to Tsukishima.

“I know this is very out of the blue and maybe it’s cause I’m a lil drunk-”

“A little?”

“Shaddup, I’m not that bad,” you gently slapped his chest at the comment (and wow that’s a thought for later), “just … thank you for inviting me.”

“Well, you know, we were inviting Yachi, just seemed like we were obligated to and all that.” Tsukishima wasn’t looking at you but you could see a light blush staining the tops of his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure you were very obligated to do so. But come on bro, I’m trying to have a tender moment.”

“… you’re welcome.” You stared at him intensely, he sighed before relenting, “Okay, I get it. I’m glad you came. Seriously.”

You smiled up at him, “Do you guys do this type of thing often? You guys are all really nice and I think Yachi is happy to have you guys back in her life. I think the both of us would really enjoy doing this again.”

Tsukishima gave a small smile back, “I think the both of you are welcome anytime.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The two of you sat in your own bubble for a bit before the smack of the door against the wall alerted you to the food arriving.

The night ended soon after that, everyone sitting on various pieces of furniture in the cramped space, slowly sobering up and getting sleepier at the same time while eating your respective orders (and if you stole some of Tsukishima’s french fries, no one had to know).

Akaashi had already dragged a clingy, half-awake Bokuto to their bedroom, and Kenma had been curled half on Kuroo’s lap for the last half hour. Yamaguchi, while still participating in conversation, was letting out large yawns in the middle of sentences and Yachi wasn’t much better.

“Alright, I think we should head home,” you said, turning to Yachi who slowly nodded in agreement. The two of you rose, slipping your shoes and coats on near the door, “it’s been real, goodnight everyone, I hope to see you soon.” Yachi also giving a quiet goodbye to the room.

“I’ll walk you guys home, it’s late and Tokyo can get scary at night,” Tsukishima said, walking over to his own set of shoes and coat.

“Thank you, Tsukki,” Yachi replied, continuing to settle into her coat. You didn’t voice your own thanks, but you smiled at Tsukishima.

“What a gentleman, Tsukki. It was a pleasure to see you ladies,” Kuroo said, voice much quieter than it was previously in the night.

You and Yachi waved as a final goodbye for the night before the three of you made the short walk to your apartment.

~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Tsukki to see you and Yachi off. Just as he had done last Saturday, he walked you two to the door where you all said your goodbyes.

“Hey text me when you get home, I heard these streets can get scary.” You told Tsukishima as you entered your building.

“Yeah, I will,” You smiled at him then turned back to walk with Yachi further into the building.

Tsukishima took his time going back to the apartment, reflecting on tonight’s events. You got along with his friends. That was good. That was a normal thing to want from a new friend. Just a friend. Yeah, he could go with that.

He tried to be quiet entering the apartment, but it was no use, Kuroo and Yamaguchi were still sitting in the living room and immediately turned to him.

“So … ” Yamaguchi began.

“You and y/n seem to be getting close,” Kuroo winked and tried to raise his eyebrows at Tsukishima but the movement ending up looking twitchy and not at all smooth.

Tsukishima tried to look aloof as he answered their waiting stares, “She doesn’t like me like that.”

“Wait, so does that mean you like her like that?” Yamaguchi smiled, seeing the slight tensing of his friend’s shoulders.

“Oh, that is definitely what it means, Yama.”

“No, no it does not,” Tsukishima tried to stop the two before they had the idea hard set in their minds, “y/n is just a friend. We like the same music, we share a singular class, and yeah okay she’s kinda cute-”

“Oho, ho, ho, did you hear that Yamaguchi?” Fuck. Kuroo’s smirk was wide at this point, “So this is happening then?”

“Nothing is happening.” Tsukishima quickly finished ripping off his shoe and walked to his room to pass out for the night, he could still hear Yamaguchi’s reply to Kuroo though as he shut the door.

“It’s happening.”

Tsukishima sighed, sprawling across his bed. Before he forgot, he pulled up his phone.

To y/n:

streets weren’t too bad

i got mugged but the scar is gonna be pretty cool

From y/n:

does it at least go through your eyebrow?

To y/n:

just a little bit :/

From y/n:

i dunno man

is it really worth it at that point

To y/n:

…

goodnight y/n

From y/n:

goodnight tsukishima

[wylanvnneck]

Age Rating: T for Troglodyte

Summary:  Hunger Games modern day AU, Peeta is a policeman and Katniss just broke the law. Kinda. Whoops. 'Tis a oneshot. 

(Also, mentions of nudity in relation to streaking, so if you’re not comfortable with that kinda stuff this isn’t the fic for you.)

On AO3 | Can you spot all the references?

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

It was all Johanna’s fault. Against Johanna Mason and alcohol, I never stood a chance.

‘District 12’ was a pretty popular nightclub, famous for its signature drink ‘The Nightlock’, so that’s where Johanna, Madge and I had decided to take Annie for her Bachelorette party, she’d just wanted a small get together with ‘The Girls’ so there we were.

The night began when we all met up at Annie’s apartment to get ready together and ‘pre-drink’, ‘cus there was no way in hell we could afford to buy that many drinks at such a fancy place. We dress up, do each other’s makeup, paint our nails, exchange gossip, tease Annie about her upcoming marriage and take lots and lots of shots in between.

By the time we head out to walk the few blocks to the nearby club we’re decked in the sexiest clothes we own, which for me equates to a little black dress with a lacy feather design on the back that Jo’d forced me to buy on a rare trip to H&M, which apparently made my bod look fab, her words not mine. Madge has gone crazy with the makeup on my face, with black wing tip eyeshadow to match the dress.

She herself is looking elegant as usual in her midnight blue catsuit and heels, while Jo is in a dangerous looking pair of black fishnet tights and a leather top that threatened to slip off and reveal its secrets at any minute. Annie is in her skirt and top, rocking a shiny pair of silver stilettos which for me would have spelt out ‘death trap’, but she pulls it off.

The club is loud and noisy, strobe lights switching colours every few moments, dizzying my senses. While I’m still recovering Jo’s grabbed us all by the hands and dragged us to the bar, even though we’re all pretty tipsy already. Looks like I’m getting smashed tonight, but hey, what better occasion to get drunk at than your best friend’s bachelorette party?

We order our drinks from the hot brown eyed bartender, who’s smoothly mixing beverages and flirting with us as he prepares our drinks, cocktails for Madge and Annie, a Nightlock for me and a Jack and Coke for Johanna.

Annie is blushing and I’m surprised that Annie even recognizes flirting at this point, she and her groom-to-be Finnick having been attached at the hip since freshman year in high school.

Madge is more receptive but we all know that she’s irrevocably devoted to my childhood best friend Gale and that she’d never go further than casual flirting. Johanna of course has no such qualms as she shamelessly responds, with me as an unwilling witness as she chats the guy up and I impatiently wait for my Nightlock.

It’s worth the wait though, the dusky blue liquid is enticing, drawing you in like a sweet poison. This was definitely worth the long queue at the entrance and the rather steep pricing.

Now that I’ve sufficiently imbibed in enough alcohol I’m feeling brave enough to hit the dance floor with my friends and Madge, Annie and I leave Johanna to her conquest and find our way to the middle of the room where the space is packed with sweaty, writhing bodies.

I’m not much of a dancer, but the Nightlock seems to have taken effect and I’m filled with a delightful buzzing sensation so I just give myself up to the music, following along to the seductive rhythm.

My surroundings blur, as people dance around us, couples play tonsil hockey, my friends and I do the macarena and bump hips and I barely notice when Jo returns after having secured brown eyes’ phone number and carrying a fresh supply of drinks.

I’m feeling adrenalized and the buzzing sensation increases with this next round and we’re laughing and panting and the music drowns out everything and the lights are shining and it’s the most exhilarated I’ve felt in a while, considering how run down I am each day after my college classes and part time job at the clinic.

For tonight, I’m just Katniss Everdeen, a free unrestrained rebel.

Hours pass and it’s 2.00 am and we’re staggering out the door, blurry-eyed and red faced. The deserted sidewalk is so pretty and black. The trees are so brilliantly green. Trees. Lights. Life.

I’m definitely hammered.

The rest of the girls don’t seem too sober either, but I’m the biggest lightweight out of all of us so it’s no surprise that I’m so far gone.

We’re giggling and talking and I hear Annie start up a game of Truth or Dare. It’s a teenager’s game but who cares and besides, it’s her night.

Madge starts us off. “Alright Bridesy, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Ok, what’s your least favorite thing about Finnick?”

She contemplates this for a while before replying, “I suppose he can be a little too proud of his looks,” she blushes.

The rest of us let out a collective snort. It’s certainly true that Finnick could be more than a little vain, but it was also true that being around Annie made him less so. Besides, when he wasn’t busy preening his blond hair in front of a mirror he was a pretty intelligent and loyal friend.

“I’ll say,” Jo smirks. “Now, ask me one, a Dare.”

Annie dares her to give a 3 minute lecture on safe sex, which ends up with us guffawing as Jo proceeds to explain the science of birth control pills and the mechanics of a condom in a posh British voice that sounds vaguely Australian.

When she’s done and we’ve finally recovered our breath she turns to me, “Alright brainless, Truth or Dare?”

Her black eyes are challenging me, and the alcohol makes me stupid.  

“Dare.”

It’s a testament to how drunk I am that I don’t immediately panic at the devilish gleam in her eyes. We’ve made it about 2 blocks from the club and we’ve still got a few more to go to get back to Annie’s apartment where we’re all spending the night. The streets are mostly deserted but the occasional car cruises along.

“Alright Kitkat, here’s what you gotta do. I dare you to streak around this block.”

At first, my alcohol hazed brain doesn’t comprehend what she’s saying. And then it hits me. Annie and Madge are doubled over with laughter and cheering, the traitors.

My cheeks are red, “You want me to...to strip and run around this entire block?” I ask, just to make sure.

“Yup,” the she-devil responds. “Come on, Everdeen, live a little.”

Easy for her to say, she’d done this millions of times, the worst that had happened was that she’d gotten off with just a warning from a mall security officer that she’d managed to charm. I, on the other hand, have always been extremely private about my body, not that I thought there was anything wrong with it but I preferred not to flaunt it. The dress I was wearing tonight is the most daring clothing I own.

However, tonight, I’m feeling daring. Or stupid. Probably very stupid. But it’s 2.15 in the morning, the streets are practically deserted, no pedestrians are around to see me other than my friends. And after all tonight I had been letting go, throwing off my constraints. Besides, when I’m 80 these’ll be the stories I tell my grandkids, right?

Well if I’m drunk enough to think about being 80 and having grandkids, plural, I’m drunk enough to run around a block naked.

So I do it. I take a quick glance at our surroundings to make sure no one’s around before I reach down and peel off my dress, while my treacherous friends let out ridiculous wolf whistles. I hand the black garment to Madge along with my black boots. The chilly night air hits my body and goosebumps erupt on my skin, pale in the dimly lit street lights as I cover my chest with my arms. I feel the blood rushing to my face.

“Well?” Jo raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say go on then, do it .

I take a deep breath and break off into a run. I feel as swift as lightning. I’m unstoppable. I’m running around the streets of the city in my lacy underwear and no bra as my dress was backless. I’m practically as naked as the day I was born as I race along the sidewalk and I’m burning up and I feel like a girl on fire.

I quickly circle the short distance and I’m just about to make it back to where my friends are standing, howling with amusement at the sight of me. The end is in sight.

And that’s when I hear it. The sound of a car approaching. Oh hell.

The situation gets ten times worse when I catch sight of the vehicle that’s just turned into the street. It’s a police patrol car.

Oh, the universe was a cruel, cruel place.

                                                    * * *

There’s no place to run and no place to hide in the open street. There’s no escape for me, the lone policeman behind the wheel knows it and I know it. So, heart pounding and with a sinking feeling in my chest I simply walk the rest of the way to my now silent group of friends and stretch my hand out for my dress while he stops the car by the pavement and steps out of it to approach me.

I manage to slip on my dress before resignedly turning around to face him, and when I do I’m struck speechless. In front of me is the most handsome policeman I’ve ever seen. Scratch that, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.  

Ordinarily I’d be disgusted at myself for internally drooling so much over a cute guy, but this isn’t ordinary Katniss. So I stare to my heart’s content. His eyes are the first thing I notice, a stark blue, standing out in the dark early morning light. His ashy blonde hair falls in waves over his forehead, and his skin is pale. He also looks pretty muscular, no doubt as a result of regular training. Shoot me now.

I’m so absorbed in staring at him that I almost don’t notice what he’s saying, “Excuse me ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in for being drunk and disorderly.” He sounds almost apologetic, despite his formal tone and his cheeks are tinged slightly red but that’s probably nothing compared to the embarrassed blush on my face.

“Don’t worry Katniss, I’ll call Gale, he’ll know what to do,” I hear Madge squeak from the side while Officer Blue Eyes attaches a pair of cuffs on me.

I turn my head and give her a quick nod before I’m gently ushered into the backseat of the patrol car. The drive is silent and I’m almost completely sober now. No more liquid courage for me, and I’m left feeling disoriented and anxious, starting to panic a little as I resolutely look outside the window as we drive to the station, unseeing of my surroundings.

“So, wild night, huh?” His voice is a slightly husky one. I could listen to it all day. And night. All day and night. Maybe I’m still a little intoxicated.

I let out a dry laugh that sounds rather high pitched, “You could say that.”

“I remember what that was like, you know, back when I wasn’t a cop yet. Highschool seems like a million years ago” He has an easy smile on his face that I can see from the rearview mirror.

“Doesn’t it. Although, I’ve never really been a huge party person. Tonight was an exception.” I wish I could cover my face with my cuffed hands.

I see him look at me through the mirror, blue eyes filled with sympathy. “Whoops, looks like it just wasn’t your night then.”

We’ve pulled up to the Police Station and he’s reversing the car into a parking spot around the back. “I guess not,’ I agree with a wry half-smile on my face.

I’m escorted into the building and it’s practically deserted, the sound of the ceiling fans working filling up the silence as two officers sit hunched around a desk examining a computer screen while sipping on what looks to be mugs of coffee.

Caffeine. I’m jealous.

Officer Blue Eyes exchanges a quick word with one of them and she simply waves back with her hand. He takes me to the back of the room through a short passage that leads to a holding cell, a small square room with barred walls through which I can peek at the corridor that leads to the main office we just walked through. There's a small bench attached to the wall, with a rolled up mat and a pillow on it where he indicates for me to sit. My hands are released from the cuffs and I rub at my wrists.

We haven’t spoken since we got out of the car, but now he says, “Alright then...ma’am, I’m gonna need to ask you some questions.”

“Hit me with it.” I slump against the wall. Might as well get comfy, this was gonna be a long night.

“Ok, well first off what’s your name?”

“Katniss Everdeen.”

“Age?”

“22”

“Are you in college?”

“Yep. But I don’t live within campus grounds.” I give him my address as well.

“Any part time jobs?”

“I’m a part time assistant at Paw Prints Veterinary Clinic.”

‘’Ok great, thank you,” he’s been writing my replies down on a plain spiral notepad. “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

He turns and walks away and as he does a question pops, unbidden, out of my mouth, “Wait. What’s your name?” I’d been trying to read his name tag since we reached the cell but I couldn’t seem to make it out.

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” His smile is breathtaking.

I scrunch my eyes closed and let out a soft groan the moment he’s out of sight. Stupid, stupid Katniss. Why didn’t I just say no to that idiotic dare? Why did I drink so much? Why were cops allowed to be hot?

What was wrong with me?

My eyes are still closed and I’m leaning against the cell wall, contemplating my life decisions that had brought me to this moment, when I hear footsteps approaching.

Peeta was back and he was carrying what looked to be a steaming paper cup and a brown paper bag.

“Here, this should help with a hangover,” he hands me the cup through the bars. It’s steaming hot coffee and the aroma reminds me of Heaven.

I’m ravenous and thirsty and I gulp the brown liquid down, relishing the invigorating feeling despite the fact that I’ve almost certainly burnt my tongue.

When I look up again he’s leaning against the bars, watching me with those intense baby blue eyes. I would feel abashed by how impatiently I drank my coffee but I seemed to have reached my quota of embarrassment for the day. Probably even my quota for the year, forget a day.

“So Katniss, what’s gonna happen now is that you’ll be held here overnight until you’re sober and discharged tomorrow morning, most probably you’ll just be given an official warning as this looks to be your first offense.” His tone is calming and helps to slow my racing heartbeat. He’s still clutching that brown paper bag in his hand.

I nod slowly in response. That wasn’t too bad. I could live with just a few more hours in this claustrophobic space.

He hands me the bag. “Here, in case you’re hungry.”

I look at the bag and there seems to be something soft and circular inside. I think of that old cop cliché and I’m almost certain it’s a doughnut. Instead, it’s a soft looking bun and as I’m opening up the bag further the smell of...cheese? Reaches my nose. My stomach gives a low rumble. I really hope it wasn’t audible.

“It’s a uh...a cheese bun. I make them myself,” his voice sounds a little shy and my heart gives a lurch. Who was this man and why had I been deemed worthy of meeting him? Granted, not in the most ideal circumstances, but still.

“You bake?” The question comes out sounding almost accusatory. “I mean, you- you have the time to bake, you know, being a policeman?” and do it really well, judging from the scents wafting my way.

“My dad actually owns a bakery so he lets me come in after hours and do some baking. It’s surprisingly therapeutic after a hard day at work,” his lips quirk upwards on the left side.

“Wow. That’s...wow. The best that I can cook is a pretty mean mac and cheese,” I confess.

He lets out a soft laugh, “Well, that’s a very useful dish. You can go ahead and eat you know, don’t mind me.”

So I do. It’s delicious. The first bite melts me. It’s soft and salty and creamy and absolutely delectable. I involuntarily let out a long, low moan.

He’s looking at me with that quirked mouth and it almost looks like he’s smirking.  “That good, huh?”

“Mhngmm” I garble out. I sound like a chipmunk with food in its mouth but I couldn’t care less.

I force myself to pace my eating this time and manage to intelligibly speak. “So you’re a policeman and a full time baker. Any other super powers?”

“Ah, no. I’m afraid not. Being a policeman doesn’t offer much downtime. I love it though, it’s a pretty fulfilling job.”

But perhaps enough downtime for a girlfriend? I’m tempted to ask, which is ridiculous. It’s none of my business if he's dating anyone. I’m just the drunken girl he’s arrested and taken pity on, enough pity to keep me company for the moment and even share the best baked treat I’ve had in my life with me.

But who cared what motivated him as long as he was here, right? So we talk and we talk and we talk, exchanging questions then jokes then stories. I tell him about my college classes and Environmental Science course and my part time job at the vet.

I tell him about the little girl with plaited blond hair who’d recently brought in an ill-tempered stray cat named Buttercup who for some reason had instantly hated me and proceeded to scratch me a grand total of 18 times.

He laughs and tells me about his little brother Rye and his first time making bread on his own, which ended up in a charred block of dough. He tells me about a recent case of his where this woman named Effie had sent threatening letters to the wrong lady, a distinguished corporate lawyer, rather than the Starbucks cashier that was actually her husband’s mistress and the hilarity that ensued after she found out.

The conversation is so easy and I’m enamoured by this man and the last thought to enter my head before he eventually gets called away and has to leave and I finally succumb to my alcohol induced mini-coma is of a pair of striking blue eyes.

                                                           * * *

A few hours later I wake up to the sunlight streaming through the bars of my cell. I’m groggy and my mouth is dry. My hair feels matted with sweat and the dark strands are probably still forming the remnants of a long gone fancy braid. My lacy black dress is wrinkled beyond saving.

“Morning!” Says a male voice that is entirely too chipper.

I blink a few times before I can finally focus on Peeta who’s standing in the now open doorway of my cell.

“Morning…” I reply, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

“So, you’re in luck Miss Everdeen, someone’s already come to take you home.”

“Katniss. You can call me Katniss.” I pause. “Wait, someone’s here for me? Must be Gale.”

“That’s the one...a Gale Hawthorne?”

“Oh thank god he’s here. I did not relish having to stay here any longer than I needed to.”

Peeta’s face looks more guarded than it had last night. Or rather, earlier this morning.

‘Yes, well, he’s here, so we can process you out.”

“Great.”

I’m taken to a desk at the front of the office where a middle-aged officer with lengthy dirty blonde hair sits behind the counter, looking bored with the world. He eyes me uninterestedly and as Peeta and I get closer I see that his name tag reads ‘Officer Abernathy’.

Officer Abernathy sluggishly carries out all the formalities and issues me an official warning. There's nothing for me to collect as the only thing I had with me when I was arrested were my clothes. It’d be a long time before I decided to take those off anywhere that wasn’t in the privacy of my apartment.

Peeta accompanies me to the entrance, he is strangely silent but he looks like he is thinking a million thoughts.

I can spot Gale’s Volvo in the parking lot from here, and I can see him walking up to the station entrance to come and get me.

“So, that’s your boyfriend I’m assuming?” Peeta finally speaks as we stand in the doorway waiting for him.

The idea shocks me, although it makes sense that he’d come to that conclusion. Madge used to think that Gale and I were an item too, but he’s always been more like my protective older brother rather than a lover.

“What? Gale? Ew no, that’d be like incest, it’d be almost illegal.”

He raises a lone eyebrow at me, smiling.

Right. I hadn’t exactly shown the greatest sense of distinguishment between what was legal and what was not. I blush in his presence yet again.

Gale comes up to us and his brown eyes are twinkling. “Well, Catnip, I gotta say, when Madge called and said one of you had gotten arrested I thought for sure it’d be Johanna. Guess I was wrong.”

I narrow my eyes at him, “Yes, well, Johanna’s got a worse punishment than getting arrested coming her way when I get my hands on her." I remember the officer standing next to me. “In the most innocent way of course.”

The quirked lip is back. I swear, for me, it was a weapon more lethal than the gun he carries in his holster. I blame that thought on the headache that I am currently dealing with.

‘Right..so uh, I guess this is it.” There’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I would probably never see Peeta Mellark ever again. Unless I decided to get arrested in this area again and hope to spend an hour or two in his company. The idea had merit. But no, I was already on my first official warning and I probably shouldn’t push the legal system.

I stick out my hand to him. He takes it and shakes it gently, his eyes seem to see inside me as they meet mine.

Almost reluctantly I turn away and start following Gale to his car.

“Hey, Katniss.” That husky voice suddenly calls out from behind me. “I’ll be picking you up at 8.00 tomorrow, just so you know. It’s a date."

I whirl around. He’s grinning and he’s got an annoyingly attractive cocky look on his face.

“Oh really? And how would you know where to pick me up from?”

He brings out his spiral bound notepad from his uniform pocket. “In here, remember?”

I flush yet again and this time I know that it’s definitely not the last time I’d be doing it in front of him. Oh no. If I had my way, this sweet, funny, intelligent and handsome officer and baker would be seeing that blush on my face for years to come.

“On one condition. There have to be cheese buns.”

“You got it,” he salutes me, beaming.

I’m walking on sunshine as I quicken my stride to catch up with Gale who’s already started up the car and as I do I hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Officer Abernathy’s yelling from the station, “Good on you, sonny boy, you don’t see a girl like that everyday.”

                                                       * * *

A couple years later and I’m in a lacy dress once more, white this time, with the added accessory of a bouquet of Primroses. Next to me stands the man who arrested me all those years ago and won me over with a combination of his personality and his insanely good cheese buns. I like to tell him that it’s the buns that were really the deciding factor for me, but we both know that’s a lie.

He leans down and presses his lips to my ear as the photographer stops to reposition his camera.

“You know Katniss, you should have just walked up that aisle in your underwear, it’s my favourite look of yours.”

I glare at him. At least, I try to, but it’s hard with those blue eyes looking back at me.

“Keep up the jokes, mister, and you might not see that look again for a while,” I threaten him.

The smug look on his face is immediately wiped off.

                                                          * * *

I’m not yet 80, just a couple more years to go, but as I look at that familiar pair of periwinkle eyes gazing back at me with love in them, I feel like a young woman again. I turn back to the tiny toddlers playing on the ground in front of me.

Someday I’ll tell them, I’ll tell them the story of how their grandparents met. I’d tell them how Peeta likes to say that the only moral of the story is that you shouldn’t break the law, but I’d say that it was really that you probably shouldn’t play such a high stakes game of Truth or Dare, or simply ‘don’t accept stupid dares.’

And yet, when I look at where it got me, I suppose I should also say that there are certainly much worse games to play.

[pseudinymous]

Doing Math on the River Styx - 1

Phic Phight / Team Ghost / word count not final

Prompt by Zainymusings:

In an effort to keep Danny from failing out of Casper High and becoming Dan, the ghosts band together to tutor Danny in various subjects (Technus in math, Ghostwriter in Language Arts, etc.) Shenanigans ensue.

Chapter Index: 1 / 2

“I, TECHNUS, GHOST MASTER OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC AND BEEPING, COMMAND THE GHOST CHILD TO FIND THE VALUE OF X!”

The Ghostwriter looked vacantly at Technus as if his brains were about to leak out of his ears, and for the first time in his life Danny felt as if he might agree. The three of them had been locked away in this library for all of fifteen minutes and they were already getting on each other’s nerves, but anything to prevent Danny from turning into the dreaded Dan Phantom was worth it. So here they were.

“You can’t just command him to find the value of x, Technus. You actually have to teach,” said the Ghostwriter, somehow keeping his patience. “Not everyone has a way with numbers, you know. He can’t just magic the answer out of thin air.”

Technus stared at him, dumbstruck. “Really? Human children can’t do that?”

“Most people can’t do that,” the Ghostwriter lamented, head within his hands. “Look at him, he’s just staring into that piece of paper as if the world itself is coming to an end. That’s not the look of someone who has clarity on a topic, Nicolai.”

“Fine then, you teach him!”

“Me? Teach math? In what universe? Christ, I’d pass out.”

“Will the both of you just shut up?!” Danny finally yelled, his voice shuddering the non-existent library foundations and sending them both silent. “Maybe I can do this! But we’re never going to find out if you just keep arguing with each other!”

Both ghosts suddenly realised their position in all of this — namely having gotten out of their chairs in the heat of that mildly passionate debate — and retook their seats quickly in their own embarrassment. “Sorry,” muttered the Ghostwriter, quietly. Technus didn’t apologise. What a surprise.

“… So, what part of this equation do you not understand?” said Technus, eventually.

“X,” said Danny, and Writer let out a smirk from the background. “I mean where are you even supposed to get the x from?”

Technus was feeling confident.

“You start with the first part of the equation, then you do the equation in your head, and then you only have x leftover.”

Danny’s head hit the desk. “Are you joking? That doesn’t make any sense at all!”

“He’s right, it doesn’t,” said the Ghostwriter, matter-of-factly. Technus glared at him. “If it’s any consolation, I’d like to use my keyboard to bend reality such that he would learn everything he ever needed to know in an instant, but unfortunately he destroyed it last Christmas.”

“Don’t remind me,” Danny moaned. “I can’t take much more of this, I gotta go home.”

Technus wasn’t having a bar of this. “The value of x is 16! 16!” he yelled, as if that would make his point clearer. “See! Now you can do this type of problem! Now you can find the next value of x!!”

Danny stood up from his chair about as calmly as he could manage. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather just learn the normal way from Lancer. I’m—”

“—What about literature?” the Ghostwriter cut in desperately, after watching his afterlife flash before his eyes. “Math might not be your strong point, but there’s more than just one subject.”

Danny looked at Ghostwriter as if he, too, had as much of a hole in his head as Technus. “Really? And are you gonna be any better at this than the Lord of Electricity over here?”

“I’m legitimately qualified to teach. Unlike the Lord of Electricity over there, as you so aptly put it.”

“… What? Seriously?”

“You don’t honestly think I made any money writing novels, do you?” asked the writer, looking a bit too wry for Danny’s liking. “No one does. I would’ve starved without a side job.”

Technus suddenly stood up. “ACTUALLY HE NEVER PUBLISHED ANY NOVELS, HE—”

A book came out of nowhere and smashed heavily into the back of Technus’s head. Danny watched him arc gracefully through the air, face aghast and twisting as he went, before he was gracelessly plastered all over the wooden library floor. The Ghostwriter’s brow was raised. “Oh,” he said. “How did that ever happen?”

“TELEKINESIS ISN’T FAIR GHOSTWRITER.”

“And why not? You’re perfectly capable yourself.”

“YOU KNOW IT’S ONLY ON TECHNOLOGY! BUT WE’RE STUCK IN THIS PLACE WITH ALL OF YOUR THINGS, YOU—”

A book mysteriously slid off its shelf and landed on straight on top of Technus, striking his head a second time. “Oh, it seems after three decades I’m still having accidents, I’m very sorry about this Nicolai.”

“LIKE HELL YOU ARE!” Technus screeched back. Another book struck him. The Ghostwriter grinned in delight.

“Dude, you’re enjoying that way too much,” said Danny eventually, his eyes wide open. “I thought you didn’t like to fight.” “A series of unfortunate events is not a fight,” said the Ghostwriter. He was far too happy about this situation, and he showed it with two long rows of very sharp serrated teeth. “Shall we say, it’s been a long time coming.”

“But can’t he… I dunno, kill you or something?”

The ghost shrugged. “I don’t know. Can he? Or did he accidentally become part of a pact in which he agreed I wouldn’t come to harm, then act like a monumental prat such that I might like to make every book in this god-forsaken library slide off its shelf and hit him? I suppose we’ll never know.”

… Danny refused to unpack any of that. Technus remained unmoving on the floor as if this might be the best course of action while the Ghostwriter simply stood there, apparently contemplating homicide. This was beyond messed up. But what the heck had he expected when he’d agreed to tutoring sessions in the Ghost Zone?

… Ghostwriter kind of had a point about Technus’s math teaching skills, though.

“Now that we have some peace and quiet,” said Writer, whose teeth were clenched on each of those final descriptors and whose gaze was also fixed precisely on Technus, “Perhaps you could enlighten me as to what you need to study in English class.”

Danny breathed. Maybe they could do this. Maybe it was still possible. “Nineteen Eighty-Four,” he said, staring at the sheet of paper in front him, covered in mathematics so poorly executed it was a wonder it didn’t shift the fabric of space on its own. He swapped it quickly for his English book. “I got to sort of skim it at home, but ghosts kept attacking during Lancer’s lectures.”

The ghost sat down again, slowly. “… Orwell? Very well… A bit dry, but that’s fine. They’re after an analysis essay, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” the Ghostwriter began, “Those are reasonably straightforward. All you really have to do is read the question, make something up, and argue it.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Lancer said we shouldn’t make stuff up.”

“Funny how in an analysis on fiction, the writing of which is the very act of making stuff up, you’re asked not to make anything up at all. No, that’s a misconception. What you actually need to do is pretend you’re the author and lie.”

“Lie?”

“About everything,” said the Ghostwriter sagely, tapping his finger on the desk. “You can’t know for sure what was in the author’s head unless they tell you, which is fine, because it means the English teachers don’t know the difference either.”

The little cogs and gears inside Danny’s brain started to fall into place, but it wasn’t a place they’d ever fallen into before. He felt attacked, almost as if stuck in some kind of weird trap, like his fight or flight reflex should be going off. “… That seems pretty suss, why should I even listen to advice like that?”

Ghostwriter seemed almost bored. “You do realise I have a vested interest in not seeing you going insane and killing everyone?”

“Yeah, that seems kind of bad,” Technus chimed in from the floor.

“Even I’m not vindictive enough the jeopardise my own existence.”

Danny turned from his paper and looked from one ghost to the other. Were they... suddenly more tired? “… So…” he began, slowly. “Did Clockwork put you both up to this?”

Technus finally managed to peel himself away from the floorboards. “Came knocking on both our doors. Said we had to do something so that That Future didn’t happen. It’s like, as if you failing classes is tied up in the cosmos to you becoming a mass murderer or something.”

Great. Fantastic. Passing his classes was the one thing Danny didn’t seem able to do, and that was apparently the tightrope that stopped him from becoming an evil megalomaniac who murders his family members and god knows who else. Perfect. Would’ve been nice if Clockwork could’ve given him a heads up about that one before his grades started slipping into the D- range. He stared at his empty English book page and groaned.

“God,” Danny muttered. “We’ve gotta make this work…”

Chapter Index: 1 / 2

[smolbeandrabbles]

This Kiss - Phil Beckman x Reader (Knowing)

GIF CREDIT: X @memendelsohn 

Author’s Note: So. This... has potential to come under Full Fic Mendo territory, I’m not 100% on that yet... We’ll see how Phil goes. But I love the whole idea...!

Disclaimer: Knowing characters not mine. I’ve also never been to an American University/College so... What I know is limited and drawn from American friends!

Premise: This relationship was dangerous... You couldn’t give a damn about that... All you cared about was having his lips on yours... If only for 5 minutes... 

Words: 1890

Warnings: Student/Teacher Affair / Obvious sexual connotations.

________________ I went out last night I'm going out tonight again Anything to capture your attention...

And you, I always know where you are And you always know where I am We're taking it way too far But I don't want it to end This kiss is something I can't resist Your lips are undeniable This kiss is something I can't risk Your heart is unreliable Something so sentimental You make so detrimental And I wish it didn't feel like this 'Cause I don't wanna miss this kiss I don't wanna miss this kiss You know you're just my type And your eyes are lock and key, to my heart Tempting my confession (my confession) And you're a real hot thing... So can you feel the tension? But if you ask me to I couldn't, I couldn't, I You're leaning closer and I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I... I don't wanna miss this kiss

--- It was nearing summer again, which meant your dresses were beginning to get shorter. He obviously didn’t mind that one bit. But that also meant there would be at least one (likely new) professor who would pull you up in a corridor and lecture you about appropriate clothing around boys. Phil would rescue you as ever, with a righteous monologue about not telling girls what to wear and what should distract boys or not, steering you away with a glare. Even if he thought you might be doing it purposefully for that reason, it wasn’t the boys you were aiming to distract.

Because Phil was a man. A real man. Not some teen-turning-20-something that had no idea what he was doing. He watched the way you told your friends to leave. “I just have a question for Mr.Beckman.” He couldn’t help but smile down at his paperwork. Oh, he BET you would have a question for him… Phil waited for you to approach his desk, still smirking to himself “...You have a question for me?” You folded your arms across your chest at the way he expectantly delivered the question; “One day I won’t and you’ll be disappointed.” He sat back in his chair, still not looking at you “Will I now?” Phil steepled his hands and pressed his fingers to his lips before grinning “How can I help you today Miss.L/N?” You sat on the edge of his desk and the already short dress climbed a little higher on your thighs. He knew you were doing it on purpose but he couldn’t help his smirk. “Well. Mr.Beckman it would be the same question I always ask you...” If his smirk could get any bigger it probably did, and finally his eyes flicked to yours “Then I would ask you...” Phil stood; one movement, but slow. He was tall enough to force you to look up at him from where you sat “if you’re going to bother locking the door this time.” You raised an eyebrow “Mr.Beckman no one is going to come asking you questions in the ten minute lecture break. They’ll go to your office, not a tutorial room. Now, we both know that....”   He placed his hands on either side of you and leant forward. His proximity left heat in your cheeks; “One day it’s going to happen. Someone will forget something... or someone will remember something... and then what will you do?” “I’m not the one who should be worried about things like that, Sir...” but you gave him a wicked smile “But if my favourite professor is going to get suspended, I guess I will simply have to leave the University in order to be with him.” He laughed; “You would do that... for me?” “Yes...” He didn’t ask it like he thought you were kidding. But he smirked again, “Ms. L/N, shouldn’t you be following your friends to your next lecture...? Won’t they be waiting? One day they are going to walk in and demand to know what’s taking you so long... and why you always seem to have questions for me...” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper and you didn’t think you could take that tone of voice for very long. “They wish this was them, they are too scared to ask you anything.” “Oh, do they now?” He sounded at least a little curious. Which made you give him a jealous pout. But Phil chuckled; “Too bad you’re my favourite student. I hope I don’t make that too obvious...” “I don’t know Sir. I think you do a pretty good job.” His lean into you was making you tilt back, but before long you couldn’t deny him his lips on yours. Your hands ran his shirt. Tight, black and showing off his more defined muscles. He groaned gently into the kiss at the feel of your hands upon him and gathered your body closer to his. As he slid you forward across the desk the dress you were wearing revealed even more of your exquisite skin to him and he growled into the kiss. Hands moving from your back and running down. His touch wasn’t forceful but it was strong. And his growl only made you sigh in delight, turning into a moan as his fingers travelled your thighs and under what remained of your dress covering your legs. He released your lips and went for your neck. You arched yourself to give him as much access to you as possible as your hands went to remove his overshirt; “MMm MMn” He hummed a warning into your neck – not now, not here – he still had lessons to teach. Well, you still had class to get to, so you half hoped he wouldn’t leave marks. Only half hoped; you liked smirking to yourself when your friend enquired as to which boy it was this time. For this was a sinful secret you could keep to yourself. His hands grabbed for as much of you as possible; and upon reaching for handfuls of your ass, he was greeted by lace. That made Phil pull away from your neck and bite his lip; looking between your eyes and your lips – his a considerably darker blue. “What are you wearing?” You gave an innocent little shrug “Guess you’re going to have to find out after class…” His eyes flicked to the cut of your dress and you knew exactly what he was thinking. He shook his head and traced his eyes back to yours; pulling you into his hips you couldn’t help but gasp at the friction; “You’re gonna regret that.” “…Not likely…” You couldn’t help but grin at him, and he went for your neck again – you ran your hands back from his chest up his neck and through his hair – relentless in the way you were sighing; “…Oh-! Phil-!”  You liked using his name, you heard other students call him Phil instead of Mr.Beckman all the time, but there was something about you saying it. Instead of calling him the way you would call every other teacher here. “Sir-! Please-!” He almost chuckled into your neck at that, and bit into your shoulder gently for good measure. So you elicited another gasp to a husky whisper of “Good girl.” He pulled his fingers into your hair and pressed his lips to yours again; allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your nails into his shirt. Your favourite time and place to do this would be in his office; preferably just before you had a lecture or tutorial with him – so you could attack his neck yourself and listen to him try to control himself. So when you got into the period he would stand at the front with his collar popped; or in extreme cases with his jacket on. And you would smirk knowingly from the back of the room; offering a wink if ever his eyes happened to catch yours. He looked good like that. Hell, he always looked good. You may dress up for him on the days you were attending his classes. But it hadn’t escaped you that any time you happened to mention a shirt you liked, or that the particular set of layers he was wearing today looked incredibly sexy he would wear them again if he was lecturing you that day. And that sexy AF black jacket had become a particular favourite of yours. The bell rang for the 5 minute warning and Phil pulled away from you slightly breathless. You whined and attempted to steal one last kiss. He pressed a finger to your lips. “Shhh… Darling.” He shook his head “If we start again I don’t think I’ll be able to stop…” His voice was still husky and it was turning you on. That was a threat and a promise… How were you supposed to make it through your lecture now? He stepped back from the desk and pulled his shirt to brush out the creases, running his hands through his hair to make himself look presentable. You did the same and hopping from the desk you regarded him for a minute. Had you told him that tight black shirt looked incredible? If not, you would. “Do you have a free period now?” “Yeah, only for half an hour. Office hours. I’ll get a coffee… Then I’ve got a 1:1 – with a he, if you must know, I would hate for you to be jealous. – Then I have an hour where people can drop by but. By that time…” His eyes flicked up and down your body “…I think I’m going to be distracted by other… things…” You felt the groan rise in your chest but pushed it back – there was no way you could sit through two hours of John Koestler now. “So…” Phil collected his papers from the desk and escorted you from the room; “As ever. You ask excellent questions.” “Shame you’re not my actual personal tutor really isn’t it?” “John’s not a bad guy!” “John’s not a bad guy.” You almost laughed “He’s not you…” “Well, I can tutor you on all my lectures. You’ve always known that.” You raised an eyebrow; “…Of course I do.” “And you know if John isn’t…” “Stop calling him John!” “He’s my best friend!” “Oh I know that-! I get you thrown at me every time I have a 1:1!” “…As far as I’m concerned you’re not at all bothered by that notion.” “Mr.Beckman!” You folded your arms and pretended to be shocked “What? Where are you headed anyway? I do hope I haven’t made you late…” Even though you hadn’t told him anything, he stopped in the corridor and started looking for signs to any possible destination you’d be going to. “It’s only Mr.Koestler in Theatre B and he always starts a little late... he’s not going to mind. Especially if I tell him YOU made me late...” you winked “As I’m sure he will love it when I tell him you said its only Mr.Koestler. He’ll be very upset.” “Why?” Phil laughed “I’m not idiot enough to think that you’re only brilliant in my class for me... though… I do like the idea of it...” He was really too close to you to be out here in the open but… He didn’t care and neither did you… His eyes flicked to your lips again before he blinked and cleared his throat, turning, he pointed his folder ahead of him “…So, you’re going off that way…. And I’m…” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder “…Back to my office. BUT. I will see you later. Unless you would like me to escort you and explain to Mr.Koestler why you might be late?” “You don’t need to do that Sir.” But you thought it was sweet that he would offer. Phil nodded, that was probably the sensible choice; “Okay. Ms. Y/N… Until later. Enjoy your lecture.” “Oh. I won’t.” He smirked turning to go, but he turned back and caught your bag strap, leaning in close; “Try not to think of me too much…” His tone sent a shiver up your spine and you bit your lip. Well he’d really done it now. “…Yes, Sir.” He gave you a wink, and brushed his fingers dangerously across your arm “…Good girl.”

------

@dennismitchell @krnncsbtch @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad. 

[badboys-imagines]

Lie to me

Pairing : Tom, Reader

PART VI

Summary : A complicated story in which Y/N and Tom already know each other from work.

Y/N : Your Name

Y/L/N : Your Last Name

A/N : Sorry it took so loooong ! Hope you like it. xxx

Y/N woke up earlier this morning, almost sure Tom would cause her to be late again.

As she entered the kitchen, she saw him typing on his computer, but he instantly looked up at her,

"Hello," he paused, gauging her mood, "How are you doing ?"

Grabbing a bottle into the fridge, Y/N slightly shrugged and took a sip of milk.

"Today I'm feeling cloudy, with a chance of sarcastic."

"Can't you use a glass ?" Tom sighed, but immediately corrected himself, "Never mind."

A satisfied smile curved Y/N’s lips and she sat in front of him as he typed furiously on his keyboard. It felt so unusual to be here with him, in an almost peaceful atmosphere. Closing the lid of his laptop, Tom looked at her for a moment.

"I didn't know working with Ken could make you so happy though." he chuckled, referring to the smile on her lips.

Y/N frowned. She hadn't even realized she was smiling. But it had nothing to do with... What was his name again ? Suddenly, the young woman felt angry at how Tom's attitude influenced her own thoughts.

A proud grin appeared on his lips and Tom took a sip of his coffee,

"Oh dear, you don't even remember his name, do you ?"

Y/N flushed. No, she didn't.

"Of course I do, he’s my assistant."

At this point, the young woman was nothing but a constant state of internal cringing.

"Well ?" he insisted.

"Tom, if karma doesn't come around and hit you in the face, I will."

Tom Hiddleston was like the weather. One minute he was sunny, the next, he was pouring down with rain. He could be an ass around her, but the rest of the time, it was all about Tom's polished, plummy accent combined with the rich timbre to his voice. The effect was completely obscene.

Tom was never just being irresistible, and the tabloids loved that. They also loved that he'd temporarily moved in with Y/N and it didn't take long until fake news popped into magazines.

It was Sebastian who handed her the first article where her building appeared on a picture, Tom apparently walking out. Near him, a bold title dramatically read: "New girlfriend ?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, wondering what the press could possibly say.

"After writing his first book about her... Taking a step further... New girlfriend..."

Her eyes widened as she read.

Tom wrote a book ?

All day long, Y/N couldn't think about anything else. Tom had already left set and she was eager to find out what Tom frantically typed on his laptop every morning.

After a moment searching in a library, she found it.

The Remedy for Love, by Tom Hiddleston

Cocking an eyebrow, Y/N couldn't keep a laughter. She turned the first pages. Science, science, love.

Apparently it wasn’t exactly a fiction.

Without thinking, she bought it and continued her lecture in the subway.

"Human behavior is linked to genetic. All actions, every move, every love story has consequences on the gene pool and can be scientifically explained."

Hm, boring Tom, she thought, turning another few pages. This didn't sound like him.

"You might think, 'this doesn't sound like Tom Hiddleston'. In fact, it didn't, until I met this woman."

Her eyes widened and she felt her heart racing. Y/N skipped a few lines and stopped breathing as she read her own words,

"You don't know anything Hiddleston," she said, "you just act like it." (...)

She turned another page,

"Now, how to make the right choices when they don’t make you a happy person (...) happiness seems to be a condition to humanity. However, finding it without love is quite possible. (...) This is what you learn from a heartbreak (...) to stop loving someone is easier than you think."

The last words echoed in her head. Slowly then, she replayed the past few weeks in her mind. How Tom behaved. How he clearly seemed to hate her now.

Legs shaking, Y/N slowly made her way back home. As she pushed the door,

"Tom ?" she called, "Tom come down !"

Hearing his footsteps in the stairs, she sighed deeply. As soon as she saw his body shape appear, Y/N threw the book at him. A surprised look on his face, Tom shot her a glance,

"Well, I see you've found something to read."

"You owe me 15 box." Y/N sniffled.

She stood there for a while and contemplated discussing with him about love, but renounced. It was too late after all. Instead, she started to laugh,

"Oh god," she cleared her throat, "This was the most terrible thing I've ever read."

She saw his blue eyes widen at her words and Tom tilted his head, as if he hadn't heard her well,

"I beg your pardon ?"

"You don't really believe what you wrote, do you ? It was just for the fame, wasn’t it ? Tell me it was just for the fame, Tom." Y/N scoffed, balancing on one leg to pull a stiletto off her foot.

"I do believe every word I wrote in this book, Y/N.” For a moment, Tom seemed hurt. 

"It’s worse than I thought, then. Aren't you getting tired of your own bullshit ?"

"It’s not... bullshit.” he scoffed, shocked, “This book received an award by the way.”

"Yeah, so did Goebbels for his research and he was still a nazi. I'm serious Tom. It feels like it has been written by a four times divorced 45 year old woman. And the fact that you used these things I said... Damn it, you could have asked."

Tom looked straight into her eyes, his blue gaze becoming colder as she talked.

"What ?" Y/N grumbled.

Suddenly, he took a few steps closer, enough to bring his face inches away from hers, "I love it when you rant to me." he said, closing the book at once, "How delightful, to be entrusted with your hate. That’s all I wanted, Y/N."

Tom splayed a hand on the wall behind her, leaning further so she could feel his breathing against her mouth and the heat emanating from his body.

He plunged his deep blue gaze into her lost eyes, "Your kink for nice, perfect guys like Ken is completely unrealistic. People make mistakes when they are in love, and they forgive each other."

Y/N blinked in confusion, heart pounding against her ribcage as she felt the electricity coursing through her whole body, craving his touch. To the blush on his cheeks, Y/N could say he’d felt it too.

"What ?" Tom clumsily asked, as if he’d admitted some enormity.

Y/N slowly shook her head, her voice barely coming out of her mouth,

"I..." she pressed her hand on Tom's chest, long enough to feel his heart pounding under her fingers, "V-vital space..." she managed, causing him to move back.

For the first time in months, Tom had let his guard down. Y/N released a deep sigh, throwing her head back against the cold wall, her body still shaking from the uncontrollable, painful attraction she felt towards him.

Tom started to pace in front of her like a wild animal, as if he wanted to make a confession, but the words remained stuck in his throat.

“Do you realize what you’re saying, Tom, that Sebastian doesn’t have real feelings for me ? You don’t even know him.”

“What I’m trying to say is...” he stopped near her and looked down, his chest lifting up quickly. For a moment, Y/N thought he was finally going to admit how he truly felt, but Tom’s eyes fluttered, “I think he’s not right for you.”

That was it.

“And who’s right for me, Tom ? You ? I've met some pricks, but you are the fucking cactus." Y/N growled.

Tom sat down on the couch, crossing his legs as he stared blankly into space. Maybe she’d gone too far, but he had too.

After a moment, the young woman cleared her throat,

"By the way, I didn't know you were being followed by paparazzis. Now I see you like a Lana Del Rey song that took human form."

Tom's own cynicism burnt off like morning dew,

"What are you talking about ?"

"What did you expect after writing this book ?" Y/N scoffed, "Apparently, you moved in with your new girlfriend,” she waved her hand in a theatrical gesture, “me."

Tom rolled his eyes and she was about to throw an awful comment when he raised his finger up,

"Watch out. I'm strong enough to carry your corpse to the woods."

Cynical Tom was back.

"Look, Tom,” Y/N inhaled deeply, “you might be used to paparazzis because you are an A celebrity..."

"I'm not."

She released a sigh,

"Tom. I’m serious.” Y/N paused, “I think you should find another place to live while we shoot the movie."

There, she’d said it. Tom didn’t move or look at her until he narrowed his eyes,

"You didn't read my book until its end, judged it by its cover, and now you’re kicking me out because of paparazzis."

"You definitely need anger management classes." Y/N sat next to him on the couch, winning a cold glare from him, “Yes Tom, it is too much for me.”

She shot him a glance and shook her head,

"What ?"

At that moment, she saw the light in his eyes disappear, but Tom kept his usual calm and cynical voice,

"There is not enough therapy and liquor in the world to undo your effect on me." he grunted, sinking into the couch as he turned the TV on, unable to hide the desperate look on his face.

"I know, you can't stop thinking about me." Y/N smirked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Hmhm. I touch myself whenever I think about you." Tom muttered, causing her to blush until he added, "More specifically, I constantly have to rub my temples because I get a headache every time I do."

"Sh-sh." Y/N hushed, gently kicking his arm with her foot as she grabbed his book and lied down, extending her legs so they were resting on his thighs.

Silence fell between them, as it always happened every time their bodies touched. After a while, Tom cleared his throat, his voice softer than before,

"So, you really want me to leave ?"

At first, he didn’t look at her directly.

Of course, Y/N wanted him to stay. But she couldn’t live like this for another two weeks. The last days they’d spent together had been painful, and what she’d read about his conception of love had finished to break her heart. Tom looked up at her, and she quickly nodded,

"It will be better for both of us."

A heavier silence settled in the room and Tom leaned back. He wasn’t even watching the TV screen anymore.

Y/N skimmed through the first lines of his book once more and released a series of sighs, making faces at each new paragraph.

After what seemed an eternity, she realized he was observing her and her eyes fluttered. For a moment, he just searched her gaze, until she shook her head,

"I intend to read it, entirely." she paused, "You're pretty quiet tonight."

"No one plans a murder out loud." Tom retorted, focusing back on the TV screen.

A smile crossed her lips and she rubbed a foot against his abs, then pressed her toes into it, causing him to chuckle. The sound filled Y/N’s chest with a warm feeling and she smiled. Tom grabbed her by the ankles, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin.

"Why do we fight over such stupid things ?" he suddenly whispered.

Not lifting her head from the book, Y/N felt a fluttery feeling invading her whole stomach and she flushed. Because I love you, idiot.

Slightly shrugging, the young woman gulped the lump in her throat,

"Because you say stupid things."

His smile didn't fade away and his voice softened. There were so many stupid, romantic things Tom wanted to tell Y/N.

He wanted to stay by her side, he wanted her to finish his book and he wished she could understand how much he loved her. Tom also wished she knew he had a hard time talking about his own feelings and the last thing he wanted was to see her with another man. All those things, he wanted so hard to tell them to her.

Instead, Tom chuckled, hiding the pain behind a smile.

"Go to Hell, Y/L/N." he simply muttered.

In the morning, Tom was gone.

TAGS:

@medussaurora, @nataliehasgrace, @hakuoyuki, @candygui, @im-not-having-your-baby, @toaster-strudel-witch, @midnight-queen-1​, @hufflepuff-flufflepuff, @irinabatsy, @hiddlestoner3059, @lilyrosebae​, @sarahivi​, @kirstieflowerslove-blog, @veerniks, @kasiarella​, @honey-anon​, @dormousse​, @keenkryptonitedelusion​, @devilbat​, @addyliners​, @islaylivesinshire, @little-me13​, @t-a-l-i-n-a-l-a-n-i​, @nwmtagsb, @aaminah12, @super-who-locks-world, @acidic-nectar, @smexylemony, @sebstaned-loki-ed, @theojjjames, @cookies-and-cream-forever, @jamilelucato, @mikithekiki, @alizayalove, @marveloushiddles, @goodbyebabes, @hiddlestonstansworld, @jozza1bro, @lokilvrr, @multifandomdump, @diana-parker02, @toastystrudleblr, @hiddlestaan, @thundermaximoff, @naniky, @midnightdragonzero, @yokaimoon

[yehet-me-up]

Ablaze

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader (female)

Word Count: 10,674

Genre: Soulmate AU, Professor/College AU, Smut

Rating: (M) for language and explicit sex

Summary: They called you “Ice Queen” all throughout elementary school. Even now, as a graduate student, the nickname still stings. As if your inability to feel heat means you’re cold-hearted too. You decide to pursue a degree in Biochemistry, desperate to figure out the reason why you are the way you are. 

Mark Tuan, everyone’s favorite hotshot professor, can pass his hand through an open flame due to a similar inability. Until the day you walk into his class, that is.

↳ Oneshot as part of The Inevitability of You collab with @kpop-wetdreams and @mak-baes 💜

A light breeze blows across campus, rustling the leaves above you, making you huddle further into your coat. Mid-September and the weather is still warm and sunny. Or you guess it must be, considering how many students are sitting together, studying or talking on blankets spread out on the quad’s lawn.

You guess it must be warm, because you’ve never felt warmth in your life. It’s not to say you’re freezing cold all the time; if you fill the bathtub with hot water you can almost feel… something. A flicker of the sensation your sister and parents have tried to describe time and time again. 

Cold, now that’s something you can feel. Snow, ice, the freezing rain that falls in the evenings here in the late winter – those you are intimately familiar with.

You hold out your hand as you walk across campus, watching the light fall on your skin in patterns. Frowning at the lack of sensation, you clench your fist and stick your hands back in your pockets. When it’s warm like this you just feel… an absence. A void where you know something should be, like a phantom limb; the aching sensation of nothing.

A buzzing in your pocket draws your attention and you pull your phone out to a message from your friend Kelly.

[Kelly 1:15pm] running a little late because of who I am as a person [Kelly 1:15pm] save me a seat???

You smirk to yourself. She’s likely running a little late because of her boyfriend, Adam. But boyfriend seems like too small of a word to convey their relationship. He’s her soulmate. They’re in the lucky 3-5% of the population that’s found their biologically fated match.

You had watched in amazement as Kelly’s ability to taste sweetness had come to life just after winter break, one afternoon in the cafeteria during your junior year of high school. 

You were sitting next to her, chatting with some of your other friends, when suddenly she dropped the cookie she was eating. She’d turned to you with wide eyes, reflexively bringing her hand to her lips in awe.

“What is it, Kel?” you’d asked, concerned.

“I – it’s – I think I can taste this…” she’d said, staring at it with such concentration it could have been a bomb about to go off. She’d licked her lips and sat up in her seat, whipping her head around.

You’d both turned to look at the other kids in the cafeteria. You saw him instantly - a new boy was standing at the cashier, paying for his food. He picked up his tray and lifted his eyes, sweeping the room to find a spot to sit. Kelly, in her usual exuberance, had stood up and waved him over.

He furrowed his brow, turning to look behind him for a moment, thinking she was waving to someone else. Once he realized she was motioning to him he’d given her a cute smile and come over, taking the spot across from Kelly and introducing himself.

“So – what’s your deficiency?” she’d asked the moment he said his name, staring him down.

“God, Kelly. No one uses that word any more. It’s not PC. My mom says we’re supposed to use ‘inability.’” Laura had said with a condescending tone.

“Whatever,” Kelly had said, waving Laura off. “What’s your inability, then, new boy?”

He’d stuttered, clearly unaccustomed to discussing something so sensitive in such a bold way. “Oh – umm, well I can’t taste salty things,” Adam had said in a low voice.

“Laura, give me some of your chips,” Kelly had said, snatching the bag and handing it across the table to Adam. “She always buys these super salty chips, can you taste them?” she’d demanded.

Adam had looked at her like she was crazy, but with a shake of his head he’d shrugged and popped one in his mouth. He had chewed thoughtfully for a moment before his eyes had gone wide and he started nodding furiously.

“Holy shit,” he’d whispered loudly. “Wait – how did you know?”

She’d grinned mischievously at him, holding his gaze as she picks up her discarded cookie and takes another bite.

“Well new boy, until today I couldn’t taste sweetness. I guess that means we’re soulmates, huh?” she’d said matter-of-factly.

They’d been inseparable from that day on. They were one of only six other confirmed matches in your high school, they’d had the test done just before graduation. It was something new the government was working on, a blood test to confirm the presence of a matching chemical, supposedly only released between soulmates.

[Y/N 1:17pm] god I’d say get a room but I have a feeling you’re just coming from one [Kelly 1:17pm] ha freaking ha [Y/N 1:18pm] *sigh* fineee I’ll save you a seat [Kelly 1:18pm] you’re the best [Kelly 1:19pm] when you find your soul mate I’ll cover for you too ;)

You smirk as you click the phone off, sliding it back into your pocket. The steps to the science building are packing with students flooding out of classes, excitedly heading out into the sunshine. You’re delighted to be doing the opposite – to be heading into your first two hour lecture for The Science of Soul Mates.

Kelly is taking the class for fun, you’re required to do 20 credits of upper level seminars for your Biochemistry Master’s degree. This course is newly offered by Professor Mark Tuan. It’s open to any student on campus, so even Kelly, an MFA student in creative writing wanted to sign up. The interest in the class was apparently through the roof and you’d both only gotten seats because you have priority registration as graduate students.

You pull open the heavy doors and head up to the second floor to the lecture hall. The room is just starting to fill up and about half of the hundred or so seats are filled. You head to your preferred spot near the back of the small auditorium, finding a space in the middle of the row and setting your bag next to you to save Kelly’s seat.

She rushes in five minutes before the class is supposed to start. You smother a smile as she sits down with a sigh. She turns to look at you and notices your barely contained laughter.

“What?” she demands as she pulls her laptop out from her bag.

You lean over and fix the strands of hair that had fallen into her face. “You had sex hair, Kels,” you laugh.

She groans. “Oh my god, I’m going to kill Adam. He was supposed to make sure I looked presentable.”

“Well I’d say he failed spectacularly at that,” you say with a wry smile as you make a new Google doc on your Drive, getting ready to take notes. “I am so excited for this class, you don’t even know.”

“You’re such a nerd, why do I hang out with you?” Kelly asks with a laugh.

“Because you love me. And how are you not freaking out? His research is groundbreaking, I’m dying to hear what he’s found,” you say. 

Ever since you decided to pursue Biochemistry as a profession you’ve been hearing his name, reading his published articles. You’ve been anxiously waiting for a chance to talk to him about your theories.

“Yeah, I hear he’s some genius prodigy. Adam says the University president was thrilled that he agreed to teach here, said that it was ‘the get of the century.’ He got his doctorate at what, twenty four?” she says, amazed.

“Twenty three, he’s been doing research this last year,” you reply automatically. “I just hope that everyone isn’t just signing up for this class because he’s supposedly gorgeous,” you say with a frown, looking around at the overwhelming number of female students in the class.

“Supposedly? You mean you haven’t seen him around campus this week?” Kelly asks, raising a brow at you. You shake your head. “Well girl, you are in for a treat. He’s better than gorgeous – he’s hot as fuck,” she says with a knowing grin. 

You open your mouth to chastise her but she cuts you off. “Yes, I know he has a heat inability, but hey, it’s true. I think I’d burn myself just touching him,” she says dramatically, shaking her hand and wincing as if she was in pain.

You shake your head and turn your attention back to your computer, a wave of guilt washing over you. His inability to feel heat has made him a legend - every interview and feature article loves to use a pun about it. 

Yours on the other hand had made you a pariah. You’d made the decision to lie about it after sixth grade, so Kelly had no idea what your true weakness was.

Ever since Ben Mezrich had called you “Ice Queen” in the cafeteria and poured scalding hot, or so you’d been told, soup down your back you’d decided it was better to keep the truth to yourself. You forced your parents to let you go to a public school for high school and had started telling everyone that you couldn’t taste bitterness – it was laughably easy to fake.

In the decades since humanity had noticed these sensory deprivations evolving, myths had started to form. Can’t see certain colors? You must be narrow-minded. Can’t feel cold? Must be a hothead. Can’t feel heat? Well, then you must not have a heart. Even all these years later you still feel a shudder of fear and shame at the nasty names and rumors that had spread about you.

You see a movement in the front of class and look up to see a man walk into class. He sets his bag on the table and looks around at the now packed auditorium, an easy smile on his handsome face. You look over at Kelly and she’s dramatically raising her eyebrows at you. She’s right – he’s gorgeous.

His messy blonde hair falls into his eyes and his face is classically handsome in an almost painful way. He wears a thick grey coat similar to yours. Kelly always makes fun of you for your warm clothes and you dodge her questions as casually as you can. You always brush her off, saying that you just run cold.

The buzzing of discussion quiets down as he moves around to the front of the class, leaning casually back against the desk and looking up into the room.

“Hello and welcome, everyone. I assume you know who I am, but I’ll introduce myself in case any of you wandered in here by accident,” he says in a conversational tone. A ripple of laughter goes through the crowd. This is supposedly his first class, but he acts like he’s been doing this for years.

“I’m Mark Tuan, but I’ll fail you automatically if you try to call me Mr. Tuan,” he says gamely. “Please, it’s Mark. And while I’ll be doing a lot of talking and presenting in this class, I really want it to be a discussion. The concept of a biological soulmate is just now being seriously studied, and as far as I’m concerned, we’re in this together.”

He folds his arms across his chest, his coat falling open. You can’t help but notice how strong and lean his body looks in the grey sweater and dark jeans he wears. “Now, I suppose the first question in this sort of class is – have any of you met your soulmate?”

Everyone looks around, whispering excitedly. Kelly raises her hand, confident as always, unconcerned that she has a hundred people looking at her. Two other girls raise their hands as well, toward the front of the room.

“Excellent, would you mind telling us about it?” he asks, pointing to the first girl, a hungry look in his eyes. “How you met, what your inabilities are, if you’ve had the official test? Whatever you’re comfortable sharing.”

She goes on to detail how she and her partner met last year at a party. The next girl goes, saying that she met her soul mate at a soccer tournament out of state. Kelly goes last, sharing her story, a sweet smile coming to her lips as she finishes and you know she’s thinking about Adam and the happy years they’ve had together so far.

Several of the girls in the class are looking starry-eyed, wistful smiles on their lips as they treat these three stories as confirmation of the fairy tales they’ve been told about soulmates all their lives. You roll your eyes, drawing Mark’s attention. He quirks and eyebrow up at you and you quickly look down at your laptop, pretending like you are typing.

“Fantastic, thanks so much for sharing. We’re right on par with the rest of the world,” he says, pacing back and forth in front of the class as he speaks. “As far as recent studies can tell, approximately three to five percent of the population has found their soulmate, and of that about half have had the government supplied blood test to confirm it.”

“But beyond that – there are so many unanswered questions,” he turns to look up into the stands, his gaze lands on you. 

You fidget as he gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes holding yours for a long second before moving on. Your coat suddenly feels too heavy. You slip it off your shoulders and shrug out of it as he continues.

“So. What do we know for sure? As far as we can tell everyone has just one soulmate. There have been a few reports of people finding a second, but none have been confirmed using the test. The chemical that’s secreted into the blood stream, affectionately known by us in the field as Cupid X, rises in proximity to one’s soul mate, accompanied by a scientifically verifiable reversal of one’s inability.”

“Over the past year I’ve been working with confirmed soulmate couples, testing how this reversal is affected by prolonged proximity as opposed to separation. We’ve been able to pinpoint the distance at about a hundred feet. Further than that and it seems like there’s no effect.”

“It’s maddening, isn’t it? To think that you could pass within a football field’s length of your soulmate, somewhere out in the world – but completely miss them? Fate sure can be a bitch sometimes, can’t she?” he asks with a smirk.

“Anyways, back to the science, since that is why you’re here. I’m working with the University to set up more research with their funding, but the question remains – where do we go next? There’s so many paths we could go down,” he says, his eyes lighting up as they sweep the room. You unconsciously push the sleeves of your sweater up your arms as you lean forward, fascinated.

“For example - is there anyone in the world with two or more inabilities? Does everyone just have one? How does love come into play – does the emotional connection heighten the physical bond? What about the millions of couples who’ve fallen in love but aren’t soulmates? And is this merely a helpful hint from nature, or does this evolution in our genetics signify a larger change?”

He brings his arms out in front of him, gesturing emphatically. “But that’s why this science is so fascinating – there’s still so much that we don’t know. It’s only been in the last twenty or so years that the concept has even been on humanity’s radar; and only in the last ten or so that it’s been seriously studied.” 

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Sorry – I tend to get carried away. It looks like class is just about up, but before I assign you the reading allow me a demonstration,” he says, turning to pull something out of his bag on the desk.

“How many of you discovered your inability before you could speak?” he asks, pulling out a lighter.

A small handful of people raise their hands in assent. “Research shows that the vast majority of people, over seventy-five perfect, discover which sense is affected in elementary school, between the ages of five and eight,” he says, holding up the lighter with a smirk.

“I discovered mine quite early, in the days before parents began obsessively running tests on newborns. When I was three years old I knocked a candle off the table. It fell on me, on my pants, lighting them instantly. My parents screamed, throwing me into the shower and turning on the water, trying to limit how bad the burns would be. But there wasn’t a mark on me. They said I didn’t even scream,” he says, trailing off as his eyes focus on the lighter in his hand.

With a cocky grin he flicks the lighter on. A small flame appears and he runs his hand through the flame, slowly, with the confidence of some who’s done it a thousand times. But when his hand brushes the top of the flame he gasps, hissing in pain, clutching his hand to his chest reflexively and dropping the lighter.

He stares at his hand in shock and fear. The red spot forming on the wide part of his palm near his pinky finger is visible even from your seat in the back. The class starts murmuring in confusion and speculation.

A sensation on your forehead draws your attention, an unusual itching feeling. You draw your finger across the skin there, trying to relieve it. When you pull your hand back you notice a drop of moisture on your finger. Your eyes go wide in realization – staring between the drop of sweat and Mark who’s still reeling in confusion up at the front.

You whip your head around to look at your coat, down at your exposed forearms from your rolled up sweater. The synapses in your brain finally connect these disparate facts, the realization slamming into you like a freight train.

“Oh shit,” you whisper to yourself.

“What’s that?” Kelly asks, leaning over to you, her gaze still drawn to Mark at the front of the class.

“Nothing, I think I’m getting sick, that’s all,” you say in what you hope is a casual tone of voice.

A moment later, Mark composes himself. “I promise I didn’t do that just for dramatic effect,” he starts, valiantly trying to contain his surprise but obviously still reeling. “I guess I’ve come to the right place. It seems like I might just be in that three to five percent after all…” he say softly, trailing off. He turns the wrist on his non-burned hand, looking at his watch.

“Anyways, class is almost up and I’ve got to go and find some burn cream it looks like,” he says with a laugh. “Read the first three chapters in your text and complete the attached prompt on page seventy-nine for our next class,” he finishes. 

Everyone starts grabbing backpacks, shuffling papers, and standing, moving toward the door.

“I’ve got to meet up with my study group, see you later Kels?” you lie, avoiding her eyes, desperate to get out of the room.

She gives you a surprised look, but nods after a beat. You forcefully shove your laptop into your bag and pick up your coat in a rush. Standing abruptly, you move down the aisle and start down the steps, hugging the wall as you try to stay far away from Mark on your way out the door.

Once you reach the front of the building you push open the doors and step into the sunlight, holding your hands out in front of you. You stare in awe as you feel a sensation on the skin of your palms… something new, something wholly unexpected. Your eyes go misty and you tilt your head up to look at the sun, still visible high on the horizon.

“Huh. So this is heat,” you say softly to yourself. Tears spill down your cheeks, hastened by the swirling emotions inside of you – excitement, fear, relief, confusion, anger. With a shake of your head you dash down the steps toward your apartment.  

Even after the last student leaves class, he still stands there, brow furrowed, staring at the bright red burn on his hand. He’s done that little parlor trick for years. In high school to impress his friends, in college to impress girls. The wound still stings, but he can’t make himself move.

Suddenly his rational mind kicks into gear – studies haven’t yet found how long one needs to be in the presence of their soulmate for the inability to fade, or how quickly the effect fades after exposure. It could have been someone in line ahead of him at Starbucks while he was catching up with a friend that morning. It could have been a visiting lecturer he passed in the halls. He doesn’t know how long he has.

Abruptly he turns, picking up the lighter and shoving it in his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he runs from the room. He sprints across campus, his bag smacking into his hip with every step. He distantly notices that he feels something on his skin where it’s exposed to the setting sun. But he’s never been the type to bemoan the fact that he couldn’t enjoy the sun on days at the beach with his friends growing up.

Nor has he cared about missing out on hot chocolate, sitting in front of a fire on a cold winter night, or if he’s honest – the heat that was supposed to come from being with a lover. But there’s always been one fantasy of his that he desperately hopes he can fulfill before the effect fades.

He dashes up the steps to his apartment, throws open the door and kicks it shut behind him. He tears off his bag and kicks off his shoes as he moves to the bathroom. He rips the curtain back, twists the knob all the way to the left and turns the flow of water on. 

Steam fills the small room as he frantically pulls off his clothes – the mist in the air had always been an object before, something inanimate that barely deserved notice.

But as he inhales he knows that steam, that heat, is a living thing. It presses against his naked skin, envelops him in what he can finally recognize as warmth. Like a word in a foreign language, just out of reach beyond comprehension that he’s suddenly learned the meaning to. He tentatively reaches his hand under the spray, practically trembling in hope.

Relief rushes through him. A fierce surge of joy – it’s hot. He lets out a choked noise and steps in. He winces at the scalding temperature, but he couldn’t care less. He ducks his head under the flow of water, laughing in delight as the it runs down his face, his back. He stays there for countless minutes, lost in the pleasure.

When he finally pulls back he sits down on the floor of the shower, letting the water run over him. He holds his hands out in front of him, staring intently as the drops spill between his spread fingers.

His logical mind works first, as it always has. Who is his soulmate? Where did he meet you? How can he find you again? Does he even want to? Of course I do, he thinks with a shake of his head. 

How wonderfully unexpected that he, one of the leading experts in the world on the biochemistry of soulmates, had an experience like this of his own. He feels like he’s just discovered a new species, a new element, a new planet.

Then comes the longing; possibilities explode in his mind. The word soulmate has always been clinical – a fanciful description for a biological concept. But now he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to share his life with someone who was fated to be his. He wonders what it would be like to belong to someone, to have them be made for him and vice versa.

His attention returns to the water. The sensation is fading. The water is still hot, if the steam surrounding him is any indication, but he can no longer feel it. With a shake of his head he heaves himself off the floor and turns off the water. He grabs a towel and as he dries off he starts to formulate a plan.

Over the next days and weeks he keeps a log, he starts experimenting, recording.

He thinks back to everything he did that day and tries to recreate it. He visits that same Starbucks every morning for a week; lingering, waiting. But no dice. 

He follows the same pattern he took to class the same day of the week, staring up at the red brick buildings covered in ivy, wondering who you could be with a whistful smile. He wonders if he’s being silly; if the chance meeting was literally a once in a lifetime occurance.

But the sensation returns, over and over. At night he writes pages of notes, describing the rise and fall of heat - how quickly it comes on, how strong it is, how long it lasts. 

Two weeks into the quarter and he’s narrowed it down – it’s got to be someone in his class. The sense doesn’t come on at all during the other five days of the week.

The day of the seventh session of class he doesn’t leave his apartment except to go to science building. He wakes up at the crack of dawn and rushes over to his lab on the fifth level of the building, staying in his office until it’s time to go to class.

He carries a hot pack with him, the kind that stays warm for hours, tucked in his coat pocket. As the students file in he greets them with a nod of his head, his hand anxiously holding the pack in his pocket. The sense flares to life abruptly, unexpectedly and he grins broadly in triumph.

One hundred students, he thinks, scanning every face as they unpack backpacks, talk with each other. Three already have soulmates, he thinks, and unless he’s a statistical anomaly it’s unlikely that he’s matched with someone who’s already found theirs.

Thirty one are male students. There are plenty of documented cases of same sex soulmates being found, but he has a theory that a person’s sexuality comes into play. He’s almost positive that the attraction will be matched between partners, and as he’s straight, he’s confident that his partner will be female.

So that leaves sixty six. Sixty six possibilities. As he looks from face to face he meets a lot of eager faces, coy smiles trying to catch his eye. Game on, he thinks, his mind already filling with ideas on how he can narrow it down.

For the next several weeks you manage to avoid Mark Tuan outside of class. You wait in the women’s room before it starts, always giving Kelly some excuse of why you keep coming in right at the last second. The second class ends you push your way out the door, some excuse on your lips. 

After your initial emotional reaction, you’ve decided on anger. How dare this man be your soulmate? If you had told anyone about this, Kelly for instance, you would have described this turn of events as ‘highly inconvenient.’ How are you supposed to ask him your questions, tell him your theories now?

Fed up after you turn down her third offer this week to hang out, Kelly barges into your apartment and drags you out of your unintentional isolation to go to a party with her and Adam. 

As the night goes on you relax. You drink awful rum and cokes, laugh at Adam’s endearingly bad jokes, and talk with Kelly about the other classes she’s taking for her MFA. For a few hours you forget all about Mark Tuan.

“Holy shit - Ice Queen? Is that you?” a male voice calls off to your right abruptly.

Turning your head you see a tall, burly man making his way through the crowd do you. “Oh fuck,” you say out loud and Kelly swivels her head in his direction.

Ben Mezrich. Even here, at college - on the other side of the state - you can’t escape him. He’s broader, his hair buzz cut short. Mark’s words on the first day of class come back to you. Fate, you bitch, you think sarcastically, your lips twisting into a savage smile.

He finally reaches you, putting his hand on your shoulder, either not realizing how intrusive the motion is or not caring in his drunken state. “What are you doing here?” he slurs.

“I go to school here, Ben,” you say flatly. “What about you?”

“Oh, I work here. My girlfriend got me a job at her dad’s bank downtown. So, are you still a frigid bitch?” he asks, sloppily waggling his eyebrows up and down as he brazenly check you out.

Your forced smile drops, your eyes turning hard as you stare him down. He gets bored after a moment, as if your silence renders you invisible to him, and with a shrug he turns around and blunders back through the crowd to his friends.

Kelly puts a hand on your arm, turning you to face her. “Y/N, what was that all about?” she says, not unkindly, with an inquisitive raise of her brow. “Why was that asshole calling you ‘ice queen’?”

You sigh and take a large sip of your drink. “Kels, you know how I always said I can’t taste bitterness?” She nods. “Well, that’s kind of... a lie. Guys like Ben used to pick on me growing up; all those myths about heat deficiency meaning you’re a ‘cold robot’ got to them.”

You tell her the story of the awful day with the soup. “I just wanted to be someone else for a while, so I lied. I’m sorry,” you say when it’s over, staring down into your cup.

She clicks her tongue and you look up cautiously. “God, you think I care about that? Inabilities are totally your private business, I’d never hold it against you for not telling me,” she says, giving you a warm smile and squeezing your arm.

“But holy shit, was that why you ran out of class that day? Why you’ve been avoiding people like the plague? Did your sense come back? Is Mark fucking Tuan your soulmate?” she yells, her excitement bubbling over.

You sigh dramatically and down the rest of your drink. “I think he might be,” you say noncommittally, looking anywhere but her face.

“Wait wait wait. Why haven’t you told him?” she demands, her eyes wide with excitement.

You open your mouth to speak, but snap it shut. What can you say? That you’re afraid, that you’re pissed off, that you’re confused – all of your life plans thrown out of whack?

“Ugh, I was so focused coming into this degree. When I found out he’d be a professor, it was everything I wanted. Kick ass in his class, win a spot on his research team, spend my days working on this fascinating science,” you say. “But this recent development makes things… challenging.”

She gives you a teasing smirk. “I’ve never known you to be one to turn down a challenge,” she says, clinking her empty cup to yours.

You shake your head in amusement, a wry smile coming to your lips.

You decide to get creative. After class one day you just email him instead. You send him your latest theory about the soulmate bond developing out of an ideal combination of genes for procreation, asking his thoughts.

He responds an hour later with some articles he’s found on the offspring of confirmed soulmates, noting their higher intelligence ratings. You counter with a study that found no noticeable difference in the intelligence, physical abilities, or attractiveness of the children of soulmates.

You end up emailing back and forth for hours, late into the night. His mind is fascinating, the way he pushes you to consider other ideas, the disparate sources he draws from. He’s incredibly well read, curious, and open-minded – he doesn’t ever turn down your ideas, he considers them thoroughly, fairly.

Against your better judgment, you like him even more. You roll your neck, standing to grab a cup of tea. As you stir, your mind wanders to how he looked today.

The connection, the rise in heat, is instant, for both of you it seems. You come to class bundled up but now you’ve come to expect the rush of heat and take off your layers as soon as you sit down. 

He does the same. Today he’d come to class and pulled off his coat, revealing narrow fitting slacks and a tight, deep blue button-up shirt. He looked so good you almost broke your pen in half in a rush of frustration and desire.

You shake your head to yourself as you walk back to your spot. This soulmate thing is entertaining at least, you think. You fold your leg up underneath you on the couch, taking a sip as you wait for his reply. The message comes through a moment later.

Why don’t you stay after class tomorrow and we can discuss this further?

“Shit,” you say to yourself.

“Just do it,” Kelly stage whispers in your ear the next day while you both wait on the stairs for people to file out in front of you.

“No,” you reply with a swift shake of your head. You’ve already decided not to talk to him, leaving his email unanswered. Besides, there are tons of people in this class, there’s no way he can know which one you are, you tell yourself.

A tightness comes to your chest as you stand there, willing the students in front of you to move faster. You tap your foot nervously. The secret you carry, that you’re his soulmate, feels like it’s clawing at your throat. As if it’s going to burst from your lips if you don’t keep your focus every second you’re around him. 

Finally, the line starts moving.

Kelly pauses by the door, rummaging in her purse, people flowing out the door around you two. “Hey babe, can you hold this for a sec?” she asks, holding her coffee thermos out.

“Sure,” you say, your eyes darting back and forth anxiously between her and where Mark is putting papers back in his briefcase. You reach out and distractedly take her metal travel mug.

“Ahh,” you hiss loudly, wincing in surprise as your bare palm touches the hot metal of the container. You barely manage to avoid dropping it, bringing your other hand up to clasp it as well.

Your eyes meet with Mark’s as he looks up in alarm at your noise of alarm. You close your eyes tightly for a moment, then open them to look at Kelly in disapproval. She’s abandoned the pretense of taking something out of her bag and has folded her arms, giving you a smug look of satisfaction.

“Oh, sorry about that Y/N. I keep forgetting,” she says dramatically with feigned casualness.

You tear your gaze away from Mark and stare daggers at her. You thrust the thermos at her, grabbing her arm in yours and steering her toward the door. Panic rises in you, you hope that he didn’t notice. But damn him, he’s too quick and observant for his own good.

“Wait – you have a heat deficiency, too?” he calls from behind you and you reluctantly turn around.

“Well she did,” Kelly says slowly with a smirk. “Until the beginning of your class.” She winks at you and pushes out the door.

It closes with a soft thud, leaving you and Mark alone in the room together. You regard each other, keeping your distance. He looks you up and down appreciatively, as if he can’t believe you’re real.

“It’s been you this whole time?” he says, incredulous, looking you up and down. “Wait, you’re not the Y/N that was messaging me last night too, are you?”

You nod slowly. “Wow, beautiful and intelligent too, I think I won the soulmate lottery,” he says with a wide, lazy grin.

You scoff. “Just because I’m your soulmate doesn’t mean I’m automatically going to sleep with you,” you deadpan, feeling feisty at being reminded of the fact that you’re supposedly fated to be together. “You don’t have to try to charm me.”

He bursts out laughing, bending over at his waist. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. Against your better judgment, you finally accept that you like him. He doesn’t have to know that, though, you think.

“And devastatingly sassy, too. I love you already,” he says as he straightens up, his face still alight with amusement. “This is so surreal. Do you want to go get a drink?”

You let out a laugh and shrug. “Sure, why not?”

“So, about your latest theory – where did you find your source, that article about the different ethnic groups study?” he asks, walking over to hold the door open for you.

You pick up the thread of the conversation, grateful that he doesn’t push you to talk about a potential relationship, or whatever it would be between you two. He chooses a restaurant down the street and you both order burgers and beer, bouncing ideas back and forth at a rapid pace.

He’s even more charming and articulate in person, you think as you take a sip, watching him as he relates his colleague’s idea about the differences and similarities in chemical reaction between soulmates and confirmed non-soulmates that are in love.

He’s even more attractive up close, you think with a sigh. You wonder if it’s like this for other people, for those non-soulmates who love each other. If they’re drawn to each other this viscerally. 

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The closest thing you can relate it to is the studies you’ve read about addiction. That the more you ingest something – sugar, caffeine, heroin – the more that you crave it.

You’re suddenly afraid of needing him, of wanting something that intensely. 

You take a huge sip of your drink. The feelings rising in you for him, both physical and emotional, feel ominous, terrifying. Like a tsunami that you can feel in your bones is coming, but that you yet spot on the horizon.

“So, have you had sex before? How was it for you?” he asks curiously. You look up abruptly, startled out of your thoughts by his question.

There’s a devilish look in his eyes that tells you he’s acutely aware of the line between academic and personal that he’s just crossed. You hesitate, hovering on the line, wondering if you should step across it with him. After a beat you decide to just go for it.

“Yes, with my boyfriend in college. It was… fine. I guess. Like it was physically pleasurable, but more like – a relaxing massage. Or that feeling of when you go over the top of a roller coaster, and you plummet down.”

He’s watching you curiously, toying the rim of his bottle against his lips. “But I’ve heard from Kelly that being with her soulmate, it’s… umm, more intense? In comparison. That’s what she says anyway,” you finish in a rush, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’ve had similar experiences. I wonder how it would be between the two of us,” he says thoughtfully.

Your jaw drops, a flush coming to your cheeks. You press your hands against them, not used to the feeling of blood pumping there. As always, denial and anger are the safest places to land.

“Well, that’s not going to happen any time soon,” you say firmly and he laughs.

“I was just proposing an experiment. Out of scientific curiosity, of course,” he says with a smirk.

“Yeah, right,” you say sarcastically, picking up your burger to take another bite.

[Y/N 7:02pm] YOU ARE SUCH A BITCH OMFG [Y/N 7:02pm] why would you do that to me??? [Kelly 7:03pm] god knows you were never going to do anything about it [Kelly 7:03pm] how did it go??? it’s been like [Kelly 7:03pm] over THREE HOURS [Kelly 7:03pm] what did you guys do?? [Y/N 7:04pm] we just grabbed drinks together [Y/N 7:04pm] and we talked [Kelly 7:04pm] and??? 👀 [Y/N 7:05pm] okay fine he hit on me [Y/N 7:05pm] but he also offered me an internship with his research team [Y/N 7:05pm] so like [Y/N 7:05pm] i’d say i broke even [Kelly 7:06pm] omfg [Kelly 7:06pm] YOU’RE WELCOMEEEEE [Y/N 7:07pm] okay but i still hate you [Kelly 7:07pm] whatever [Kelly 7:07pm] just remember that i have dibs on being maid of honor at your wedding 😘 [Y/N 7:08pm] i hate you so much

You manage to resist for two weeks. 

Fourteen days is as long as you can manage before your burning curiosity finally breaks you. Fourteen days of getting lost in the way his mouth carefully forms each word as he speaks. Fourteen days of biting your lip, turning away when he meets your eye in class, or during a meeting in the lab. 

Two weeks, that felt like they lasted a millennia.

It started your first day at the lab, his official ‘welcome’ handshake when you met the team lingering just a second too long – his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary. 

Next, it escalated to small touches. A brush of your waist as he reached for the next stack of interviews. His arm grazing yours as he leaned over you to grab a new set of slides for the next sample. His knee touching yours under the table repeatedly whenever you grab lunch or dinner together.

It’s the way he looks when you catch him staring at you, a hunger in his eyes that makes your skin feel too tight. You’re sure you must look the same, as you sneak in glances at him while his back is turned.

His infuriating smile tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing; testing you, testing himself. Pushing you both until you’re strung so tight you feel like he could breathe on you and you’d fall apart.

Tonight is another late night, everyone else went home hours ago. You’re bouncing from foot to foot, trying to keep your focus as you enter more data into the spreadsheets. He moves to the microscope next to you, his hand trailing across your lower back as he moves, leaving a trail of fire even through the layer of your shirt.

You sigh pointedly, but his hand remains. It was never like this, with the men before him. You never lost your focus, never wanted any of them so badly you could taste it. Your need for him threatens to drag you under, to bury you with the weight of its intensity.

“Mark,” you say firmly, closing your eyes briefly, steeling yourself against the heat building in you at his touch. He looks up from his microscope, raising his eyebrows in attention, his hand frozen in place low on your back.

“Hmm?” he asks, feigning innocence. “Did you need something?”

“You know damn well what I need,” you grit out between your teeth, dropping your eyes to stare meaningfully at his hand on you.

“Yes. I do. Because I need it too,” he says in a low voice, deliberately misunderstanding you. He stands up fully, moving his body in front of yours.

He rests his hands on the counter on either side of you, his face inches from yours. This close you can’t hide your feelings for him; you know your desperate want is broadcast across your face. His smug smile fades, melts away into something softer, sweeter.

“But if you don’t want me, I’ll drop it. I just – I’ve never felt like this before. Physically. Emotionally. It’s like I can only breathe when I’m touching you, and every second I spend away from you is a shallow breath,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s fascinating really, reading about this, and now experiencing it,” he says with a soft laugh. “I always thought they were exaggerating the pull. But now I think they might have been underselling it.”

You let out a shaky breath, furrowing your brow as you scan his face. Has it really only been a few weeks since you saw him for the first time? It feels like you’ve been wanting him, craving him, for decades. Your heart rate kicks up as you realize you can feel his body heat in the narrow space between you.

He lifts a hand, bringing it to cup your jaw. His thumb traces a lazy trail across your cheek, his eyes following the motion in awe. You know what he’s feeling. There’s something magnetic between you, it’s overwhelming - the way that your connection feels destined, fated.

“Is it always like this?” you wonder aloud softly. “Between soulmates. In your interviews, have you ever found a pair that doesn’t feel this…. chemistry?” Your lips twist into a wry grin. His eyes flare in awareness as he processes what you’re saying, arousal pooling between your legs at the intensity that comes to his gaze.

“I mean, maybe we should put it to the test. For science,” you continue, tentatively bringing your hands up to rest on his hips. Without intending to, your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt, your body automatically moving to pull him closer before your mind catches up.

His other hand leaves the counter, coming to rest along the curve of your waist, fitting perfectly as if it belongs there. He leans forward carefully, pressing his body flush against yours. You both inhale sharply at the contact. It makes you wonder how you ever lived with the absence of him against you, now that you know what it feels like to have him here in front of you, wanting you.

His closeness seems to heighten not just your ability to feel heat, but your other senses as well. This close, you breathe in the faint hint of his musky cologne. This close, colors seem richer; the red of his lips, the deep brown of his eyes. This close, you can almost taste him, and you lick your lips at the thought.

He groans, a low gravelly sound in this throat, as he follows the motion of your tongue. He moves his hand, tilting your head up toward him. Your lips part unconsciously in anticipation. 

“For science, huh?” he says, grinning.

You nod, smirking at him, straightening your back and moving your mouth close to his. “We are scientists, after all. I’d say it’s our duty.”

“Absolutely,” he breathes against your lips. He brings his mouth against yours, enveloping you in his arms. Your lips land slightly off center, mirroring how you feel, thrown out of yourself at the intensity of feeling. As he presses against you, sliding his lips along yours gently, you feel as if your world has been knocked sideways.

He pulls back and a moan leaves you at the absence, feeling bereft without his lips on yours. You lift your hands to his neck, pulling him fiercely against you, slanting your lips against his. He groans into your mouth, pressing you into the counter with his hips.

The hand on your back flexes, brushing up the fabric of your shirt and sliding along your bare skin. He swallows the whine that leaves your throat and you can feel him hardening against your thigh. The sudden rush of desire that rises in your core leaves you breathless.

As he works his mouth against yours his hand slides around to the front, brushing along your waist. You cling to him desperately, feeling unmoored as you drown in want, holding onto him as the only solid thing you can find. When his fingers graze the underside of your breast you open your mouth in surprise.

He smirks against you, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, pressing it along yours as his thumb finds your sensitive nipple over the fabric of your bra. You grip his shirt in your hands, fisting the material, trying to keep yourself together. He pulls back again, breathing heavily.

“Do you want to go all the way with this?” he asks, his hips rocking into yours, his erection brushing against your sensitive core.

You bite your lip, trying to find a rational reason to say no and finding none. You release your lip with a gasp, grinding your hips against him in response. “Yes, god yes,” you breathe.

He smirks against you, pulling your lower lip into his mouth as his hands drop to work on his belt. Now that you’ve given in fully to your desire for him, you can’t contain it. You undress each other in a flurry of clothes and lips and hands, ending up naked, pressed against each other, leaning on the counter.

He dips his hand between your legs and you gasp as he trails a finger through your folds. He grins, finding you wet and ready. A possessive gleam comes to his eyes as he slides a finger into you, watching as you close your eyes with a sigh. He crooks his finger, rubbing against that sensitive spot on your inner walls and you tilt your head up to give him a challenging stare.

He laughs and bends down to recapture your lips. After a minute he’s so hard it hurts. Unable to wait any longer, he grips your thigh, pulling your leg over his hip and positioning himself at the entrance.

Suddenly he shakes his head with a laugh. “Jesus, what was I thinking. Hang on, I have a condom somewhere,” he says and sets your leg down.

You turn, leaning against the counter on your elbows, grinning as you watch him run around the lab in the nude. “It’s nice to know you’re as affected as I am,” you say with a laugh. “I can’t think straight when you’re around.”

He laughs, glancing over at you with a grin as he digs in a drawer. “You know, I was a very organized person before you came into my life.”

“I know what you mean,” you laugh, a warmth rushing through your body that has nothing to do with lust, and all to do with another four letter l word.

He disappears into his office and emerges triumphant, holding up a condom. He rips open the package and sheathes himself. His hot gaze runs up and down your body, considering.

“You know, I think I’m going to need both my hands with you,” he says with a wicked grin. Looking around he sees a folding chair in the corner, its back against the wall. He sits down and motions you over, crooking his finger at you with a wink. “Come here.”

You walk over, spreading your legs on either side of him. His hands run up your thighs, coming to grip the flesh of your ass. You reach a hand down to grab him, positioning him against you. 

As you ease down you can’t help the moan that escapes you. Needy whines leave you as his cock stretches you out. A warmth builds in you as you slide down onto him that blows away anything you’ve felt before.

He groans, his hands gripping your thighs as you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. After a beat, he starts moving. Rocking his hips, he moves within you, pushing and pulling your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. 

You press your heels into the floor, tilting back to rest your hands against his legs for purchase. You swirl your hips, circling around him as he slides you back and forth on his cock. The friction is so delicious you smother a scream.

He drops his head to the wall with a thud, watching you through hooded eyes. “Has it ever felt like this for you?” he asks, his voice straining.

You laugh. “Ever the scientist. No, god. It’s never been this good before.”

A sheen of sweat comes to his brow and you grin, knowing that your skin is just as flushed. You shake your head, your mouth falling open as he snaps his hips up, driving himself into you suddenly. You hold yourself there, above him, as he thrusts into you deeply.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” you say between desperate breaths. “I feel like I’m being burned alive,” you pant, throwing your head back.

He bends back, opening up space so he can reach between you. In a rush he brings a hand to your clit, his thumb stroking you in frantic circles. His lips find the delicate joining of your neck and shoulder and he licks along it. His breath ghosts along your skin, his muffled groans turning you on more than you thought was possible.

Gently he bites down, barely pressing his teeth against your skin. But along with his bucking hips and the motion of his hand, it’s enough to send you over the edge. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you come, clinging to him as the pleasure bursts forth - more intense than you’ve ever felt, with the accompanying explosion of warmth in your core.

After a beat he sits up, wrapping an arm low across back and one across your shoulders. He rocks into you at a rapid pace, chasing his own completion. The movement pulls at your sensitive core, the aftershocks of your own orgasm making you gasp against him. He lets out a strangled moan, panting against your skin as he comes. Even after he stills he keeps his tight hold on you, not wanting to let you go just yet.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder, turning so you face his neck, inhaling his scent. You sit there in each others arms, a messy tangle of limbs and hair and lips, until your breathing finally slows. His hand runs a lazy path up and down your back as he holds you to him, the other cupping your neck as you rest against him. A growing cramp in your hip eventually forces you to sit up and readjust.

“Want to head to my place and do this again?” he asks, his eyes alight with happiness, holding your head in both of his hands.

“God, yes,” you say with a giddy laugh, leaning forward to kiss him again.

You wake in his bed, in his arms, and you think back to last night. He’d made love to you again,; softer, slower the second time. His weight on top of you, steady and grounding, as he thrust into you. His mouth against your neck, trailing hot open mouthed kisses against the skin there. Endearments and praise had spilled from his lips as you found your completion together in the darkness.

You blink, still in disbelief that it had really happened - it felt like a dream. But his body, molded to yours under the sheets, reassures you that it was real.

In movies this is the end, this is where you fall headfirst in love. An easy slide, and that’s it – happily ever after. But instead you feel off-kilter, as if you can’t firmly grasp the threads of your life. The warmth of his body, of the bed, is lulling you into a life you’re not sure you can handle.

In the morning light, things suddenly seem… messy. The carefully laid out life you’ve built for yourself feels like it’s crumbling. Fear and panic rise in you and all at once want to leave. You want to run, now. 

You slide out of his arms gently, making sure not to wake him. In the dim light you dress and grab your things, heading out into the cold streets. You shiver and burrow closer into your coat, the cold air mocking you and your cowardice.

You manage not to see him for days, holing up in your apartment. He emails you, multiple times, wanting to know where you went, what’s wrong. But you leave them unanswered, unable to find the words to articulate the complex swirl of emotions and thoughts in your mind. Unsure how to reconcile the seemingly opposite desires in your heart – for him, and for peace, order; for a life where you belong only to yourself.

Now that it’s late fall the temperature has dropped. You can see your breath as you venture out to quickly grab groceries. The cool air, the lack of warmth, taunts you. But you resist, upset again that nature has forced this on you. This bond, this intensity, that you never asked for. 

You miss him everywhere. Your bed feels empty, the water in the shower has returned to it’s bland sensation. The accompanying rush of heat you’d become used to whenever you think of his hands, his lips, has vanished. 

His absence is almost more painful than his presence, but you stubbornly cling to the hope that you might be able to function without him.

You call out sick from your internship on Friday, thankfully getting another person on the phone and not Mark. You skip his class the following Tuesday. You ask Kelly to get you the homework and share her notes with you. She does, because she loves you. But she also knows that something is wrong the moment you ask her.

She knocks on your door later that night. “I know you’re in there, Y/N. You’d better open up or I’m going to break this door down,” she says with as much sternness as she can muster.

You crack open the door, giving her a sheepish smile as she strides into the apartment. “What’s going on with you?” she demands, folding her arms.

You shut the door with a sigh, turning to rest your back against it. “We slept together,” you blurt out.

Her jaw drops. “Oh my god, you finally gave in,” she says excitedly. “How was it? Tell me everything! I can’t fucking believe you didn’t call me like, the second after you came,” she says and you laugh out loud.

“It was incredible. I’ve never felt like that, ever. It was like I was being consumed by a wildfire. Like my very blood was going to burn,” you say, desperately willing your body to recall the sensations. You sigh in frustration when you realize you can’t.

She raises her eyebrows, holding out her hands. “So? What’s the problem? I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Kels, I can’t do this – it’s – it’s too much. Everything about this is just too much for me,” you say, bringing your thumb to your lips, chewing on the skin nervously. “Do you think it’s because of the soulmate bond… or is it because I lo-” you snap your mouth closed as if you could stifle your feelings.

“Wait – what did you just say,” she presses, a predatory look coming to her eye. She points her finger at you and you know you’re screwed. “You were about to say you love him, weren’t you?”

You cover your face with your hands. “Maybe?” you admit weakly. With a groan you drop your hands. “But how do I handle this, Kels? The way he was looking at me that night, it was so open and trusting. What do I do with that kind of power over someone? And I’ve been a wreck since I met him too. How do I cope with the fact that he has so much influence over me, it’s infuriating,” you say dejectedly.

She grins, coming over to run her hands up and down your arms soothingly. “Babe, that’s love. It’s absolutely fucking terrifying. But it’s so worth it, too. You have to give him a chance, even if you’re afraid of trusting him – trust me. I wouldn’t lie to you. And if you give it a shot, I think it’ll be better than you can imagine. But if it all goes to hell, I’ll be here for you then too,” she finishes softly, holding your gaze as you feel your eyes go misty.

You let out a shaky breath. “I can try. But what if I hurt him? What if –” you start but she claps her hand over your mouth.

She tilts her head, giving you a gentle but stern look. “You can’t know what’s going to happen in the future. But you have to at least try, okay?”

After a beat you nod and she cautiously lowers her hand. “I think you have somewhere to be, don’t you?”

“You’re right,” you say, a nervous excitement building in your stomach as you think about what you’re going to have to do.

“That’s my girl,” she says. “Now where’s that black skirt I’ve always wanted to see you in?” she says excitedly as she rushes over to your closet. You laugh and wrap your arms around yourself, smiling to yourself.

The lab is quiet, as it always is this late at night. He’s at his computer when you walk in and he turns to look at you, his eyes widening as he drinks you in. He stands up in a rush, coming over to you, stopping a few paces away, hesitating.

“It’s only been a few days, but it feels like an eternity since I saw you last,” he says with a laugh. “How do people handle this?” he muses, waving a hand between the two of you.

You grin and shrug. “I don’t know. I handled it by freaking out and running away, so I’m probably not the best person to ask,” you say, carefully watching his reaction.

He gives you a lopsided smile, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Ah. Is that what was going on? I was worried I’d pushed you too far. If you didn’t come to class on Thursday I was going to send out a search party,” he says with a smirk. “Or, more accurately, I was going to ask your friend where you were.”

You rock forward on your heels nervously. “So you still... want me, even after I left?” you ask softly.

He takes a step toward you, then another, until he’s inches away. His hands come to your waist, as if he can’t bear to wait another second to touch you. 

“Y/N, it’s going to take more than that to drive me away,” he says earnestly. “I was freaked out too. It’s a lot to handle, everything we feel. But I’m willing to try and figure it out with you, if you still want me, too.”

You let out a laugh, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “‘If I want you too’? Do you really not know how much I want you? How much I think about you? You turned my world upside down and I have to focus all the time just to think about anything but you,” you say, smiling up at him.

He bites his lip as his mouth twists into a lopsided grin. “Well, you did leave me in bed all alone…” he says teasingly.

Your jaw drops in indignation and you scoff. “I guess I’ll just have to find some way to make it up to you, then,” you say seductively.

He bends down, his lips hovering over yours. “Mmm, I look forward to it,” he says with a wink.

You lean up on your toes, sealing your lips over his, pulling yourself against him. His hands wrap securely around your waist, holding you tight. He smiles against your lips, and you feverishly hope that he never lets you go.

[lisbonsteresa]

We’re a Team

I obviously can’t control myself when it comes to these two, so here, enjoy some random eleanor x chidi!

Sometimes, he falls and she doesn’t. 

     “You guys ready for our lesson?” Chidi asked eagerly as he turned from the chalkboard towards his “students”. “We’re talking David Hume today, bundle theory of the self, baby!” 

     Tahani and Jianyu looked…..well, much less excited than he was, to be honest, but Chidi wasn’t too concerned. After all, they had kept coming back for his ethics lectures, so they must like something about them. 

     It had been a scary moment when Tahani had burst into the house mid lecture - a subdued Jianyu following in her wake - to invite them over for tea. He couldn’t speak for Eleanor, but he had definitely been somewhere between choosing a froyo flavor and naming his childhood dog on the panic scale. All the secrecy, all the long hours and hard work they had put into Eleanor’s “good person” lessons, and now it was all going to blow up in their faces and he was going to be sent to the Bad Place for helping an impostor…

     But Tahani had simply stood for a moment, taking everything in, before bouncing up onto the balls of her feet excitedly. “Oh how delightful! Chidi, you’re spreading your ethical knowledge and showing Eleanor what it is you did whilst on Earth! That is just lovely, what a kind thing to do. You simply must allow Jianyu and I to partake as well; it would be ever so delightful to study under an expert such as yourself, wouldn’t it Jianyu?”

     Jianyu, for his part, had only nodded and slightly bowed, so Chidi couldn’t be sure if he was totally on board. But Tahini could be very persuasive when she wanted to be, and now three weeks later, here they were. There was still a bit of tension, and Eleanor had to be on her best behavior now that the others were involved, but the excitement of having students again was enough to help Chidi ignore her complaints after the other neighbors had left. Speaking of Eleanor….

          He eyed the blonde as she dropped the note she had been reading back onto the kitchen counter and made her way towards the group in the living room. “Sounds like a real banger,” she began, joining him in front of the chalkboard, and he couldn’t help but grin. The Eleanor he had met nearly 6 weeks ago would never have said even one good thing about his lectures, even sarcastically.

The first few interactions and lessons they had shared had been…interesting to say the least. (Infuriating, if he was being honest). They butt heads over nearly everything, and there had been several points at which he questioned why he even bothered. But eventually she had opened up and told him the truth - that she thought she had been sent to the Good Place as a mistake - and since then things between them had gotten better and better, to the point that he would probably call her his closest friend here.

     “But you guys gotta scram. My soulmate has some sort of surprise planned for me and he seems very excited about it”. Right. Chidi felt himself freeze up, the chalk he had been tossing from hand to hand suddenly grasped in the fist he was trying very hard not to make. As Eleanor was his friend, the fact that he found himself again desperately pushing away the hot, sickly feeling that bubbled up in him every time she mentioned her “soulmate” was more than a little concerning. 

     He exhaled deeply and composed his face into a neutral expression, as Tahani’s voice, heavy with implication, reached his ears. “Well you two are certainly getting along very well these days”. 

     “Yeah,” Eleanor replied, and Chidi felt his heart sink like a stone as she went on “I’m actually kind of into Sebastian lately. I mean, he’s a little hokey, but he’s growing on me a little bit”. Chidi let his head drop, his hand unconsciously tightening around the chalk as he felt a grimace stretch across his face.

     This was how it was supposed to be, he argued to himself as the foursome went about tidying up their notes and stashing the chalkboard back in its hiding place. Everyone had their soulmate; that’s how the system worked. He should be happy that Eleanor was starting to feel something towards hers. Although, a small voice in the back of his mind piped in, if Eleanor wasn’t supposed to even be in the Good Place, there’s no reason her “soulmate” actually was right for her. 

     But that didn’t mean he was, by any means. He had his own soulmate to think about, after all. And while yes, they were friends, they were still basically polar opposites. AND there were still so many things she did that irritated him to no end. The way she would doodle in the margins of his textbooks whenever she was bored during lectures. The way she always insisted he give her the first bite of his frozen yogurt. The way she refused to back down whenever they had a moral debate, invading his personal space even more than she usually did, biting her lip while she scrambled for a rebuttal….. no, no, it would never work between them. He knew that.

     So why wouldn’t his heart stop racing at the thought of it?

     He almost made it back to the safety of his home without further incident, but Eleanor caught him on the way out the door with a hand on his arm. “Hey,” she began, smiling softly up at him, “I’m sorry about having to cancel class for the day. Maybe we can rain check; you could come by later?” 

     His gaze unconsciously flickered from her eyes to her mouth while he considered, and he saw with a great rush of heat that she was biting her lip. He forgot what he was about to say; he couldn’t form words. He suddenly wanted to stay here forever; he wanted to be a thousand miles away; he didn’t know what he wanted, and her hand was burning into his arm and he couldn’t think… 

     And then his eyes met hers again and he saw the excited spark in them; noticed the slight grin she wore, and he realized that she was genuinely looking forward to whatever surprise Sebastian had planned. He took a deep breath in and lifted her hand off his arm, patting it in what he hoped seemed like a friendly gesture before letting it fall back to her side. “No, don’t worry about it.” he reassured her, each word feeling like it was causing him physical pain. “We’ll catch up some other time, go have fun with your soulmate”. 

     Her grin widened and she seemed to almost have a bounce in her step as she bade him goodbye and started walking back towards her bedroom. Chidi turned, walked out the door, and didn’t stop until he had shut and leaned against the door of his own home. “This is the way it’s supposed to work.” he muttered, and he knew it was true. But even so, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how such a “good place” could make him feel so horrible.

[ichigolden]

[Klance] Speed Limits

Since @lumorie has infected me with this ship and motivated me to write this one.... There you go.

It's been a hell of a week for Lance. It was only the first week of the new semester, but he already felt like shit. University had backhanded him more than one time too often. Sometimes he struggled to even show up to his classes. Sure, some weren't obligatory, but he wouldn't study the material anyways, so he tried to attend every lecture - even if he slept through it. But attendance is attendance, right? After all that suffering he definitely deserved to stroll through town. He met up with Shiro, his former tutor. Shiro was a tall man, with curiously dyed white and black hair, and a huge scar across his face. Still, he couldn't save his ass from all the women. He was a real girl magnet. Not that it fazed Lance. No way, he swung into the opposite direction. Sadly, he swung alone, as he had discovered. He didn't really want to take a look at any gay clubs. Lance was just annoyed that when he talked to a man on the street, they had a very friendly talk and then went their own ways. Sometimes he felt like he was the only gay man around.

"Okay, man. I really wanna check out that new store downtown. Maybe I can even find something to bring to the party tonight" Shiro said with a wide smile. "Dude, you don't have to do any catering. You're not throwing that party. We're just there to- I don't know, why are we?" Lance answered, getting confused the more he talked. Shiro sighed. "You know, it's our faculty. So let's not talk about that again. Also, more than just our faculty is gonna be there. We could get to know some people who could further our career!" Shiro said excitedly. "Woohoo. Career." Lately, Lance wasn't as euphoric about education as Shiro. It had been rough. "And all because of the term paper you flunked?" "I didn't flunk it or anything. That jerk just didn't like me." "Whatever." Shiro strode proudly and Lance slumped by his side. The street didn't want to end. They just had to walk half a mile to reach the new store, but somehow it felt way longer. Lance hated these long straight roads. They were so unlike him. Also, the streets were plastered with street lamps and other obstacles everywhere. The town was almost completely under construction, so if you didn't walk against a bus stop sign, you'd definitely fall into one of the open sewers. Lance didn't like any of this. At all. Nothing ever happened in this town, anyways. The roaring traffic annoyed him as well. It was all awful to him. Awfully hopeless. A car drove by way too fast, startling Shiro and Lance. "We're going fifty in this town!" Shiro yelled after the reckless driver. He growled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why can't nobody read? Did no one go to school?" Another loud vehicle came from behind, going faster than Shiro allowed. "What the fuck?" Shiro yelled and stomped around. Lance only shrugged his shoulders. Well, he didn't really care. A motorcyclist sped by. His machine was black and reflected the sun into Lance's eyes. His suit was made out of black leather and his helmet was  even blacker. "Slow down you jerk!" Shiro yelled after him. Lance's eyes followed the motorcyclist's attractive form. He loved that black leather on the motorcyclist's broad shoulders, and was delighted by the way the leather rippled under his movements. He couldn't help but follow his every move - and walk right into a street lamp. Groaning he fell back onto his butt. "Lance!" Shiro yelled and knelt down next to him. Lance cursed and rubbed his head. This would totally be a super nice blue bruise. Suddenly, they heard the motorcyclist laugh. He had stopped at a traffic light and glanced over his shoulder at the two friends. He almost doubled over his handlebar and rested his arms on it. Lance could only gawk at his smooth silhouette and the bending leather. Even his laugh was perfect. "You... you scoundrel!" Shiro yelled and was back on his feet, shaking his fists at him. The motorcyclist only continued to laugh, waved at the duo and sped off at green light. "Lance, are you okay?" Shiro asked, turning back at poor Lance on the ground. His face was dusted with a deep pink blush. "I think I'm in love" he stuttered. Shiro only sighed. "Can't you pick someone who respects speed limits?"

That evening, Shiro and Lance met at the latter's dorm room. Shiro was all dressed up, in a nice dress shirt and black pants. Lance wore the pants he had worn that day and the last two weeks before, and a simple blue hoodie, that complimented the bluish bruise that was beginning to form on his forehead. Shiro eyed him suspiciously. "Well, at least the bruise fits your sweater" he said flatly. Lance only shrugged. "Let's get this over with. I can't wait to get back, put my pjs on and just watch some series until I pass out at 5 am." Shiro furrowed his brows, but let it pass. Poor Lance might have hurt his head a little more than Shiro had initially thought. After he had declared his love for that rowdy, Shiro had just shrugged it off as Lance's body releasing chemicals to lessen the pain. Now, he kind of doubted it. Still, he and Lance made their way to the party. It wasn't a long walk, but the october air had gotten cold quickly. Lance enjoyed blowing out his breath to see little foggy clouds all around him. His eyes sparkled at the silhouettes he saw in them. "Look! I'm making clouds!" "Oh my god" Shiro facepalmed. When he dared to look up, he saw the building they were headed for. "Well, we're here. Please don't embarrass anyone. Especially not you or me." They walked through the parking lot, dodging cars and some kissing couples. "Ain't it too cold for action outside?" Lance asked, eying the couples. Shiro shook his head. Why go for action if you could go for education? Suddenly, Lance came to a halt next to Shiro, who kept walking until he noticed his missing companion. "Lance? What's wrong, buddy?" He turned around and looked at dumbstruck Lance, looking at some car. "Dude" "Yes?" "Dude" "Lance, what?" "Dude. It's him." Lance pointed at a motorcycle, hidden between two cars. The black machine was almost invisible in the meager light coming from the building. Shiro looked at Lance, baffled. "What? Are you sure? You only saw him for- what? Three minutes?" "Yes, but - " Lance blushed. "Doesn't matter. Gotta find him. His laugh was too adorable." Shiro felt the need to facepalm again. "This is excruciating." Lance suddenly got some life in him again. "Let's go! Maybe he's gay too!" "How will you recognize him, anyways?" Shiro was just always on point. Lance, who had broken into a sprint, now slowed down so that Shiro could catch up to him. "Um... I only know his laugh... So I'll just have to tell lots of jokes tonight, I guess."

As soon as they entered the building, the smell of alcohol greeted them. "I sure hope your motorcyclist won't drive home today" Shiro wrinkled his nose. Lance rolled his eyes. Why did Shiro have to be so upright? "Let's just go" "At least take him home, so there won't be any drunk driving" Now it was Lance's turn to facepalm. He sighed. If he found him. And if he did, who knows if he even swung Lance's way? After all, he was just some hot motorcyclist he didn't know. Still, he couldn't help but feel a surge of hope in his heart, as he looked through the people. There were many people, but at least he knew more than a half of them. Surely, someone must know the mysterious hottie. But he didn't want to ask. Not everyone knew about his sexuality and he was sure, not everyone would be supporting. He bumped his elbow into Shiro's side and they started walking.

It had been over an hour of searching now. Lance hadn't found a trace of the motorcyclist and was beginning to lose hope. He had ended up with some of his friends on a sofa, with an unusual high alcohol percentage in his blood. If he found him, he needed some courage, right? With him, there were some others. Some mildy intoxicated, some heavily. A girl sat next to him. She had bushy brown hair, wore a green shirt and jeans. She could have totally been his type, if he wasn't gay. Instead, Pidge - her real name was Katie but they found her talking to pidgeons once - was his best friend. She and Hunk, sitting next to her. They went through all of their classes together. "And you are sure that this mysterious hottie is here?" Pidge asked, correcting her glasses. She was the only really smart one around.  Lance nodded feverously. "Damn right I am!" "And you can only recognize him by his laugh?" "Yep" "Man, that's weak. How the hell are you going to find him?" "I told Shiro already. I'm gonna tell a whole lotta jokes tonight" "You've been telling literally none all night" "Well, I am sure none of you was that hot dude - no offense, Hunk" "None taken" replied Hunk. "And that bruise is your proof you didn't just dream all of it up" "And Shiro" Lance nodded. Pidge rolled her eyes. "As if that would make it any better. We all know that Shiro loves his stories" Hunk nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, it's already kinda late. You should probably get to it" Hunk said. Lance only sighed and slumped. He leaned his forearms onto his legs. "You can talk as much as you want, but doing it is always harder" he sighed wistfully. Pidge massaged her temples. She wasn't suited for this drama. "Okay. I've got a plan" She stood up and smashed a bottle on the floor as hard as she could. Everyone quieted down for a moment and stared at her. "Does anyone drive a black motorcycle and witnessed this dude here walk into a street lamp?" she yelled loudly and pointed at Lance. There was no answer, but very loud and obnoxious laughing from the back of the room. Before the others continued their conversations, Lance recognized that very special laugh. He bolted to his feet and hugged Pidge, whose glasses almost fell from her face. "Thanks!" Lance cheered and set her back on the ground. Pidge could only look at him dash off. In the same moment, Shiro rushed in from the opposite direction. "I told him not to embarrass anyone!" But Pidge only sat down and downed her drink. She'd need a lot more of it if she hoped to survive university with these people.

Lance stumbled through the dancing masses, his eyes darting from face to face. Now that the laughing had stopped, he had next to no chance of finding him again. He began feeling hopeless, there were just too many faces he didn't know. What would he do if he found him, anyways? Say something super embarrassing? Be really awkward? What if he wasn't what Lance hoped him to be? Standing in the middle of the dance floor, he contemplated his life. Man, he had fucked up, hadn't he? As he looked at the ground he didn't notice the nearing steps between all the dancing couples. A pair of feet came to a halt in front of him. "Ah, sorry" he said absentmindedly and stepped aside, but the feet didn't move. "Hey, um, I kind of witnessed you running into that lantern" a melodic voice said. Lance curiously looked up and was greeted by the smooth and pale face of a young and handsome man with pitch black hair and dark eyes. "Really? Aw man, that was so embarrassing!" Lance laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. This would probably haunt him until the day after graduation day. "In fact, I drive a motorcycle. Wanna see it?" the stranger prompted. Lance looked him over. Well, he wasn't one to be fooled, but considering that this was only a dude who wanted to show off... "Sure!" Both danced inbetween the countless dancers out through the door. As soon as they exited the building, Lance breathed in deeply. The stranger looked at him. "Sure was hot in there, huh?" "Yeah man, this air is just heavenly" Lance said with a bright smile. "C'mon, she's this way" The stranger led him back exactly the same way he had come with Shiro. Not that Lance would have noticed. "Is every motorcycle a she?" Lance asked instead. The stranger looked at him, dumbfounded. "Aw shit, I don't know. I just assumed, ya know?" He scratched his head. They stopped in front of a small parking lot between two big cars. "There she is" The stranger said, stretching his arms and pointing at his machine. "Yeah, I don't see a thing" Lance squinted. The stranger fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a phone. He turned on the display and pointed it at the motorcycle. Now, in very bad lighting, Lance recognized the machine. He looked at the stranger with huge eyes, but he was staring lovingly at the motorcycle. "Ain't she pretty?" "Are you sure that this is yours?" Lance asked with the same blank face. "Sure am. The name's Keith, by the way" he said charmingly and laughed at Lance's face. "You were that hot motorcyclist with the cute laugh?!" Lance exclaimed loudly and pointed at Keith, who was only smirking. "I'm surprised it took you so long. When your friend made that scene I recognized you because of that bruise" Keith said, gesturing at Lance's forehead. "Aw man" Lance said, face palmed, and winced. Keith laughed and turned his phone off. "So embarrassing" Lance whined and hid his face in his hands. He knew it. He'd fucked up. Keith probably thought he was insane. Even though he found Keith even more sexy now, he couldn't muster up the strength to say something charming. Keith cleared his throat. "Would you be up for coffee sometime?" he asked, scratching his head awkwardly and looking at anything but Lance, who stared at him, dumbfounded. When he didn't answer Keith seemed to start panicking. "Um, if you don't want to, I get that! I just thought that you're kinda cute and you called me hot so I figured-" "Yes!" Lance shouted suddenly. "I'm sorry, I think my brain just checked out for a second" he added, "Um, also, my name is Lance" He laughed nervously and blushed a deep red. Lance was suddenly very thankful that it was night time. Or at least still before twilight. "So... um, it's a date, then?" Keith asked hopefully. Lance could only marvel at his beautiful dark eyes. He was so damn lucky. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Sure. A date. Yes" Lance rambled, nodding. Keith laughed at that. "Alright!" he cheered, "Well, um, would you like to go back inside? It's getting chilly out here." Lance nodded. "Sure!" Together, laughing and joking, they entered the building again and sat down to have a drink. Lance noticed the knowing looks from Pidge and Hunk, who were winking and making kissy faces at him. Still, he enjoyed Keith's company. Both ordered some fancy drinks they actually didn't know but ended up trading them, because they liked the other's better. Lance and Keith were talking intently, so they didn't notice the nearing looming figure. "Well, well. If that isn't Mr. ' I'm too cool to conform to rules'." Shiro stood next to their table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Lance shrieked. "Shiro! What about that 'don't embarrass anyone'?" Shiro eyed Keith suspiciously. "It's fine, Lance" Keith smiled at him, and added "Well, it's true, I was speeding a little. So?" He smirked at Shiro, who started to squint. Then he turned to Lance. "I don't like him. He speeds and doesn't feel guilty." Shiro said, but Lance only hid his face in his hands. "I talk to a hot guy once and you come and embarrass me" he whined melodramatically. "It's alright!" Keith said quickly and waved with his hands. "Not really" Shiro huffed. Another figure suddenly appeared between them and jumped onto Shiro. "Stop it!" Pidge yelled and pulled at his collar. "Stop! Ruining! This! Don't make my stupid show from earlier go to waste!" she yelled at him. Shiro stared at her wide eyed and tried holding her so that she wouldn't fall. Simultaneously, he tried not to stumble himself. "Pidge!" Lance shrieked, "You guys are making this so hard! I just want to get to know him, okay?" He was still hiding his face in his hands and started rocking back and forth. Pidge was still yelling profanities at Shiro, while now even Hunk had come over to try and help Shiro to get her off of him. But Keith started laughing. He started to laugh that cute laugh that Lance liked so much. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "You guys are pure gold" he laughed. The others stopped their fighting and just stared at Keith, who was shaking and laughing. "What the fuck" Pidge said and let herself be taken away from Shiro. Hunk gently put her on the ground. Shiro fumbled with his destroyed collar, but never took his eyes off  of Keith. Lance stared at him again, dumbfounded, wide eyed and confused. "Man, you guys" he laughed again. "What the fuck. Aren't you... confused? Don't you... wanna flee?" Lance asked. "And miss this? No way! I think I found some awesome new friends" he announced. "Friends?!" Shiro exclaimed. Pidge quickly jumped onto his back again. "Yeeees! Friends!" she said menacingly to him, and he nodded quickly. Hunk waved at Keith, who waved back and grinned. "You guys are alright" he said and wiped at his eyes. Lance suddenly downed his drink. "I think I'll need more than this to handle this"

Three days later, Lance was on his way to his date with Keith and walked down the same road on which they first met. They had exchanged phone numbers and were talking constantly. He was crushing so hard on Keith, it was almost unbearable. His friends were pestering him all the time about it, even though he prefered to keep it to himself. After the party, it was all in vain, of course. He still couldn't believe that Keith actually asked him out. That super hot motorcyclist Keith asked him, Lance, the super lame student, on a date. It was like paradise. As he walked, he listened to his favourite music to fight the growing anxiety. He closed his eyes occasionally and the picture of him and Keith kissing in front of a setting sun crept into his mind. He shook his head viciously and, keeping his eyes closed, walked face first into a street lamp. "Ouch!" He fell back on his butt and rubbed his forehead. Now, it was a bruise on a bruise. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw a shaking shadow looming above him. He took one of his earbuds out and instantly heard his beloved laughing. Next to him, with one foot on the kerbstone, stood Keith on his motorcycle, dressed in his leather suit and with his helmet on.  Lance blushed a deep red. This can't be, he thought, facepalmed, and winced, which made Keith laugh even more. "Are you okay?" he asked inbetween the laughing, and held his hand out for Lance to take. With a red face, he gently took it and let Keith lift him to his feet. Keith then took off his helmet and smiled at him. With a gloved hand, he wiped at his eyes. "Who did you look at this time?" He asked, grinning. Lance blushed again. He couldn't really tell him about his super lame sunset daydream, could he? He only shook his head. "I was... just daydreaming and my music was really loud so I didn't hear you either" he rambled, waving his hands frantically. "Yeah, sure" Keith said smiling, and added "This time, I was looking at you." He scratched his head sheepishly. Lance fell in love all over again. Keith cleared his voice. "Um, would you like to... go for a ride? After all, we're on a date, aren't we?" he said. "Uh...Yeah, sure! I always wanted to sit on a motorcycle!" Lance beamed and his eyes sparkled. Keith, with his now molten heart, opened the storage room of his seat and offered Lance a blue helmet. "I actually packed this one just for you, hoping I'd get you to ride with me" Keith said and smiled, blushing a little. "Oh my god" Lance whispered and took the helmet, staring at Keith, who was startled. "What?" he asked, scared. "You are way too cute" Keith blushed and his face turned dark red. He turned away. "Well, uh, get on, then!" Lance put on his helmet and clumsily climbed on the motorcycle behind Keith. "All set?" Keith asked and gunned the engine. Smiling, he added "You can put you arms around me, so you don't fall off" Lance loved to comply. He hugged Keith around his waist and snuggled into his back. Keith put on his helmet, let down his pitch black visor, and they took off.

Lance couldn't believe how short he drive to the café had been. He would have loved to sit behind Keith for all of eternity. The ride had been way too enjoyable for him. Sitting on the same motorcycle as his crush, in his super hot black suit. He silently added the suit to his list of turn-ons. They parked the motorcycle in the parking lot behind the café. Lance struggled to get off the vehicle and almost fell down again, while Keith gracefully swung his leg across it to get off. He took off his helmet and shook his head to fluff his hair that had been pressed into the famous helmet style. Lance was frozen and stared at him, but was pulled back to reality when Keith pointed at his helmet. Sheepishly, Lance took off his helmet and handed it Keith, who put it back into the storage room. "Thanks" Lance stuttered. Keith smiled. "No problem. If you want, I could take you home later" Then he froze, because Lance's face was all dark red again. Keith started to gesticulate wildly. "No, no, I didn't mean - well, maybe" he shook his head and face palmed. "I wanted to say that I could drive you home later" he said, out of breath, with a desperate look on his face. Lance started laughing. At last, the tables have turned, he thought. Keith's face started to twitch and he started to laugh a little too. Suddenly, Lance stopped. "What do you mean, 'maybe'?" Keith flinched. "Nothing!" he said, startled, and with a red face. With his face in his hands, he went to the entrance of the café,  a grinning Lance trailing right behind him. Their date went smoothly - a little too smoothly for Lance's usual dates, if he had any at all. To his surprise, Keith ordered a coffee, all black. Lance ordered what he always ordered. A hot cocoa. He felt a little childish, but the again, he didn't care. They also ordered cake. Lance tried to give Keith a bite of his cake on his fork, which, to his surprise, worked, and Keith returned the favour. After three hours of cake and hot drinks, they decided to wrap it up. Lance sat behind Keith again on the motorcycle and held onto him for what his life was worth. Shiro was right - Keith was speeding. But little did he know that Keith only liked the feeling of Lance hugging him as strongly as he did when Keith accelerated. After a short drive, they ended up in front of Lance's apartment complex. He got off and handed Keith the helmet again. "Thanks" he said and smiled. Should he ask whether Keith wanted a coffee? They just had coffee. Would that be too obvious? He really didn't want to say goodbye yet. Lance loved talking to Keith, and something told him that Keith liked it, too. "No problem" Keith answered, shaking his helmet hair again. Lance was too smitten with Keith. "Would you" he blurted, then stopped, his face a mixture of the most unhealthy white and the hottest red. "Would I?" Keith laughed a little, noticing Lance's inner turmoil. "Would you... would you..." Lance looked around the street. Aw man, he thought. This was it. Over. Gone. Before it had even started. "Would I?" Keith repeated again, grinning. He knew what Lance wanted to ask, but he enjoyed this way too much. "Like to... come in?" Lance finally asked, his voice only a silent whisper. Lovingly, Keith smiled at his shyness. "If you'll have me?" he said and got off of his motorcycle. "Yes!" Lance yelled, and added "We could order pizza. My treat. I mean, you took me home, remember?" He smiled and Keith returned it, grinning a sheepish smile. They left the motorcycle in the parking lot.