#one of my few clear memories from high school is wandering around campus in a daze with wonder girl on repeat and eating a granola bar

[exeggcute]

gonna become one of those "this song saved my life <3" people but about wonder girl by sparks

[astralaffairs]

voltaire to versace 01 | thomas jefferson

title: voltaire to versace 01

pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: implied sex, heavily suggestive content but nothing explicit, hella teasing, dolley madison payne

desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.

WASHINGTON D.C. — HOME to the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, a metro that no longer catches on fire, and most importantly, one Y/N L/N's new university. Coming in as a transfer student in the second semester of her junior year wasn't exactly her ideal scenario, but walking across a stage in a cap and gown sixteen months later certainly was — a degree is a degree.

She'd spent the previous two semesters abroad, traveling throughout Europe and trying to figure out her next step. She hadn't yet paid her junior year tuition, and on one fateful night in northern Italy, she transferred to the University of Westphalia on a whim (that whim being a generous financial aid package and a pre-existing housing offer, but that was neither here nor there). It'd been a jarring few months, spending the Christmas season packing up her entire life to not only leave Europe — a process that came with many heartbroken nights of hotboxing a friend's apartment and mourning the loss of her societal nap times — but also finally abandoning her hometown in favor of moving to the east coast.

The change may have left a lump in her throat, but it lifted a weight from her shoulders; she felt light on her feet despite the heavy D.C. snow. Much of the credit for that had to fall to her dearest Dolley Payne, the light of her life, the wind beneath her wings, the old best friend who'd found herself a dirt-cheap apartment just outside of campus and offered that Y/N come be her roommate. How could she resist a proposal like that?

However, that was also how she found herself a drink and a half deep and putting back on her boots at nine o'clock the night before classes started.

"Are you sure going out right before the first day back is a good idea?" Though Y/N was eyeing Dolley skeptically, she just rolled her eyes, pulling on her coat and scarf.

"Relax, it's not like we're going clubbing," she assured her, but when Y/N raised a dubious eyebrow, she continued, "Come on! You literally moved in last night. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't take you out at least once before everything's back in college mode?"

Dolley nudged Y/N playfully as she pulled on her coat, and the latter sighed. "I'm a new student here, Doll. I don't think showing up hungover to my first class is a particularly good look."

"You don't even have class until 3 PM!" she argued, and though she pursed her lips, Y/N had to admit Dolley had a point. "Relax, I won't even get you drunk. I just need you to come see the cute little speakeasy on fourth street. It's my favorite spot."

"'Speakeasy'?" Y/N questioned, buttoning up the front of her coat, and Dolley nodded enthusiastically.

"Mhm. You've gotta know somebody to know about it," she said. "It's a pretty open secret in this neighborhood, but it's one of the only bars that isn't always crowded."

"It's a Sunday night; how many people are really going out drinking?"

Dolley gave her a tired glance. "You'd be surprised."

———————

AND WHEN THEY stumbled upon the bar not twenty minutes later, surprised she was.

"This is really the place?" Y/N was looking around skeptically, struggling to believe that the dirty, dank alley she'd been led into was was the entrance to Dolley's favorite spot in town. Had Dolley decided to murder her now that her name was on the lease, if only for the insurance payout? Had she been dealing with the mafia? Maybe she'd changed more in the past year or so than Y/N thought.

"Do I ever steer you wrong?" Dolley asked, eliciting a heavy sigh from the other woman.

"Too often to try and count."

"So then it's long overdue that I get it right." She finally stopped in front of a nondescript, weathered metal door in the back of a mildly battered building, and Y/N all but skidded to a halt, having been expecting to keep walking a while longer. She was hesitant to follow when the door Dolley opened revealed a set of stairs going up, but taking a step forward revealed the warm light filtering down toward them, carrying alongside it traces of jazz music and animated chatter. "See? I know what I'm talking about sometimes."

"Sometimes," Y/N repeated, unconvinced.

When they emerged just moments later, Y/N decided fairly quickly that she liked it. It was quaint, old-fashioned, but a warm, charming space.

"So?" Dolley asked, and though she gave a noncommital shrug, Y/N was smiling. "Let's get a drink or two in you and maybe you'll give it the credit it deserves." And maybe, just maybe, Dolley had hit the mark once again.

Two drinks and an hour later, the both of them were seated at the bar, giggling and slumped over one another but far from drunk. As it turned out, a year apart left them with a surprising amount to talk about, from Y/N's hostel horror stories to Dolley's nightmare of a former roommate -- both of which left them endlessly grateful that they were going to be living together from then on. Their coats were draped over the backs of their seats, and the energy spilling over from their spirited conversation was born more of a sugar high than of any real intoxication -- both their drinks were heavy with fruit juice and mixers, if only for the sake of sobriety.

"...but that was when the cops showed up."

Y/N's eyes widened. Dolley had only finished detailing about a semester and a half of her freshman year, and she was still at least fifteen minutes into sharing her first run-in with UW's notorious midterm rager. "You can't just stop the story there!"

"But there's no more to tell! No one stuck around to get arrested. We were on the steps of the library, for heaven's sake."

"So you just left? How'd you get away?"

"Oh," Dolley giggled, a hand resting on Y/N’s knee as she leaned toward her in her short fit of laughter. "Well, I just ran for it, and very nearly got myself hopelessly lost. A grad student ended up letting me hide out in the library until it all cleared up."

"A grad student, huh?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you spent the whole night locked in there with them?"

"Oh, you know it's not like that! I was nineteen, don't you start making drama where there isn't any."

"But Doll, you know that's my specialty," Y/N whined, and Dolley laughed. "Anyway, were they cute, though?"

"All I'll say is that if I were trapped in a library with them tomorrow, I'd feel lucky to be on birth control."

Dolley's sly grin made Y/N gasp teasingly, leaning back to eye the other woman as though she'd just instigated a scandal. "Dolley Payne! I am ashamed at your lack of self restraint."

"You wouldn't be if you were on the receiving end of it."

"You offering?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, my roommate just moved out, so there's no one at my apartment right now," Dolley said mildly, giving a slight shrug. "Any chance you wanna spend the night?"

When she winked, Y/N couldn't help but laugh outright. "Mm, I'll definitely consider it," she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and despite her dry tone, Dolley once again burst into a fit of giggles, her hysterics more contagious than Y/N would've liked to admit. Perhaps her roommate couldn't hold her alcohol quite as well as as she thought.

Dolley leaned back toward the bar for a refill, and Y/N's eyes began to wander in her absence. The room was packed with leather furniture, tufted couches and armchairs; it had a fireplace along one wall and a pool table in the corner at which two men seemed to be escalating quite a heated argument. The sight amused her, if only in the least, but she turned away with her small smile, taking another sip of her drink. That was when her gaze landed on the man directly to her left where she sat facing Dolley, his arm draped over the back of the couch and his stare fixed on her friend. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, don't look now, but the hottie at your three o'clock is totally checking you out."

"'Three o'clock'?" Dolley repeated, brow furrowed, "Y/N, it's past ten, what are you--"

"Military directions, Doll; just--" Y/N cut herself off with a scowl, glancing back to her side. "Don't be too obvious about it. He's directly to your right." When Dolley's head whipped around toward the man, subtlety be damned, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. However, the other woman's eyes widening gave her pause. "What, d'you know him, or something?"

With the way Dolley was biting her lip and fiddling with the rim of her glass, it was strikingly obvious that there was more to the story. "...Sort of," she replied vaguely.

"Which means what, exactly?" Despite Y/N's newly uncovered intrigue, Dolley's eyes didn't leave the man in question, and her best friend scowled. "Spill. Now."

"That's James," she finally answered, wearing a wide grin. "He's a friend."

"I need details here!" Y/N demanded. "Based on how he's looking at you, I'm not sure I buy that he's just 'a friend.'"

"He's a PhD candidate. We've crossed paths in the school of economics a couple of times, and he's a big sweetheart. But you didn't hear that last part from me." Y/N raised an eyebrow at her words, and Dolley continued, "And I might've slept with him, like, once or twice."

"How is that the last thing you think to mention? You've been holding out on me," Y/N said, swatting at Dolley's shoulder, but she just shrugged. "So are you gonna go over there and talk to him, or what?"

"Oh, no, I can't leave you alone here!" she protested. "This is our night to celebrate your finally moving here. I wouldn't abandon you like that."

"I can take care of myself; I promise." Y/N gave her a pointed look before nodding back toward James. "Besides, you're stuck with me all the time now. Don't pass up something like him just to spare your conscience. C'mon."

Dolley hesitated, stealing another glance to her right, and when James met her gaze, giving her a small smile, Y/N could see her face light up. "Are you sure?" Despite Dolley's hesitance, her eyes were shining, and Y/N nodded.

"Go. Have fun. Live a little."

"I'll be back for you in a bit, dear." Dolley squeezed Y/N's shoulder affectionately as she stood up, sending her a grateful look before starting off to her right.

Y/N turned back to the bar with a chuckle, finishing off her drink and asking the bartender for a glass of water, musing about what her first few days at the university would look like, her gaze absent as she looked up at the shelves of alcohol across from her. She was still sad to have left her semester of travel behind, but she'd long since decided to embrace the change this year had already begun to bring. She was living at the nation's capitol, paying next to no tuition at a prestigious university. New beginnings were bittersweet, but she was excited for her path forward.

Her thoughts had begun to gravitate toward the semester of actual classes she had before her (because apparently, to get a degree, she had to "get good grades") when she was pulled back to the room before her, the bartender setting a martini down in front of her. It looked tempting, but-- "I'm sorry; I think there's been a mistake?"

Her words seemed to catch the bartender by surprise as he stopped himself in his tracks, returned to where she was sitting. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"No problem at all, but I think this drink is someone else's," she said, pushing it back toward him with a polite smile. "I've just been having water."

"Actually, it was sent by the gentleman at the end of the bar." Her eyebrows shot up, and when she glanced to her right, she caught the gaze of a well-dressed man whose eyes were already trained on her, wearing a barely-there smile, an expectant eyebrow raised. She hadn't realized she was staring, gaze wandering from the v-neck of his sweater to where it was pulled taut around his dark forearms, until the bartender cleared his throat, and she turned back to him with a start. The man several seats over was now grinning outright, in her opinion overly self-pleased, and she deigned not to acknowledge how the way he was looking at her had her heart pounding against her ribcage. "Take it or leave it, but it's no mistake."

She bit her lip, not daring to turn to her right once more; she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, creeping up her neck. "Would you please send it back to him?" She asked in a small voice. "Tell him that if he wants to talk to me, he can come here and do it himself."

To her relief, he obliged her with a surprised laugh, continuing off with the glass she'd been offered, and she thanked him quietly as he went on his way. It couldn't have been a minute later when a low voice from behind Y/N made her jump.

"Y'know, when I buy women drinks, I don't usually get 'em returned to me with stipulations."

The corners of her lips twitched upward, but she didn't look at him until he came around to stand beside her. "Then maybe you've been buying drinks for the wrong women."

"It's like that, huh?" His soft huff made her smile. "Maybe I bought a drink for the wrong woman just now."

Y/N turned to him with her brow furrowed, already opening her mouth to rebuke him, but when she saw his teasing smile, she stopped herself. "You still decided to come over, didn't you?"

"So, what, you're just too irresistible?" He rose an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

"You said it, not me."

He laughed, drumming his fingers on the back of the chair beside her, and she pursed her lips as she eyed the man. He had a full head of dark, thick curls, and his tight sweater bulged at his biceps, drawing her distracted gaze away from his winning smile. "Mind if I join you, then?"

She was leaning onto the bar, resting on her forearms as she considered him, lips pursed. "I suppose some company couldn't hurt."

"Glad to hear it." Y/N was struggling to pull her eyes away from the wide grin he wore, but as he took a seat beside her, he didn't seem to mind. "So what's a woman like you doin' drinkin' alone on a Sunday?"

"Good question," she started, lips pursed as she considered him -- because really, what was she doing? Playing ghost wingwoman for Dolley? Reminiscing on her shitty flings in Europe? Trying to sober up from the sugar content of her sickeningly sweet cocktails so she didn't throw up from something other than alcohol? "Maybe I've just been waiting for someone to finally approach me."

Her mischievous smile made his eyebrows shoot up, surprised but more than pleasantly so. "'S that right?" The noncommittal tilt of her head gave him little to go on. "Sorry to say it, but if you're lookin' to meet people, this isn't the first place I'd recommend, sweetheart."

"It seems to be working for me so far," she pointed out, raising a smug eyebrow, and the man laughed, eyes shining. "Then again, I don't even know your name. Have we really even formally met?"

"You make an excellent point," he conceded, and when Y/N took another sip of her water, his eyes flickering down to her mouth was the furthest thing from subtle. "But what's the intrigue of a mysterious stranger approachin' you at a bar if I just tell you my name, hm?"

"What, are you going to make me beg for it?" The undertone of her own words certainly wasn't lost on Y/N, not as her voice dropped to a murmur, the corners of her lips curling up into a mischievous smile. He didn't seem thrown off, either; his eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, a fire blazing behind them that Y/N could've sworn hadn't been there even a minute before.

"Don't you start givin' me ideas," he said quietly, and she could feel her breath catch, her stomach turn, but she paid it little mind, "unless that's what you're really lookin' for."

"I don't think I know what you're implying." The innocent smile Y/N had plastered on made him raise an amused brow, despite that her voice sounded as though she'd been winded. "But it does seem awfully mean to make such a fuss over something so simple. I have to say, I almost feel like I'm being exploited."

"Hey, I came all the way over here. 'S your turn to put in some leg work now." When he bumped his elbow into hers, she hadn't expected to laugh at the brief, teasing action, but whether it was hormones or her excessive consumption of glucose, something about that night had her feeling just a bit lighter than usual.

"Alright, alright," she finally caved, dropping the coy facade. "What can I ever do to make up for the wasted martini and two meters of walking you had to overcome?"

"You can tell me where you're from, for starters." Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow at the question, folding her arms, but he only shrugged. "What? Haven't seen you around here before; I know I'd remember if I had." She rolled her eyes when he winked but didn't cut him off. "So what's your deal, then? In town visitin' a friend? Here for some kinda election event?"

"I just moved here, actually. I'm new to the neighborhood."

"So you're livin' around here?"

"So you're already trying to stalk me?"

He laughed at her accusatory stare, her lips pursed. "Nah, 'm just from this part of town," he said, but hesitated a moment to continue as he eyed her curiously. "Can you blame me for takin' interest when I hear a pretty face like yours is gonna be out 'n' about here more often?"

"Excuse you, I'm much more than just a pretty face," Y/N said defensively, but the man just shrugged.

"Well, since you're refusin' to tell me anythin' about yourself, how am I supposed to know that?" The look in his eyes was challenging, and she let out an amused huff, trying to bury how endeared she was in a facade of exasperation.

"Alright, smart guy; you win this one," she said with a scowl, but her lips quirked as she continued, "I just settled into an apartment building a block or two over. Now have I earned your name?"

"I'm Thomas," he supplied.

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated quietly, the look in his eyes softening. "So, where'd you move here from?"

"A little bit of everywhere," she responded vaguely, taking another sip of her drink, and Thomas cocked a brow.

"Care to explain?"

"I've been abroad," Y/N laughed, enjoying his look of bemusement. "I'm from Ohio, originally, but I went to Chicago for school, and I've spent the past year or so in Europe."

He nodded, pausing a moment at her words. "Really? Ohio?"

"I spent a year halfway across the world, and that's what you choose to focus on?" Her words were almost indignant, and the disbelief in her narrowed eyes made him laugh.

"'M sorry, I just..." He trailed off, his eyes wandering down her figure, and she gave him a skeptical glance, turned back to her drink. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a Midwesterner."

"There's a reason I ran for the hills the first chance I got." She snorted, taking a sip of her seltzer water as she shook her head. Her gaze was absent, drifting across the wall behind the bar, but before Thomas could question it, she'd turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "So what about you? What's your origin story? Texas? Alabama?"

"Virginia, born and raised," he answered easily, clear pride in it laced through his voice, but he glanced at her suspiciously a moment later. "I really strike you as bein' from Alabama?"

"Listen, the southern accent was all I had to go off of. I did my best," Y/N defended, trying and failing to keep a laugh out of her tone, and he scoffed.

"Sure you did, sweetheart." The sarcastic lilt to his voice came alongside a broad grin, and had his voice not been so playful, she may have written him off right there and then. As it was, though, she couldn't even bring herself to scowl at the words. Instead, she held his warm stare, trying not to concentrate on the fact that she could feel his body heat permeating his sweater just inches to her left, trying to reign in her spiking pulse. Being beyond hyper-aware of just how close Thomas was, though, it shouldn't have startled Y/N when he knocked his knee into hers. When her eyes refocused, having been lost in thought, she could see in his eyes the pleasure he was taking in how skittish he'd made her.

"Anyway, now that I'm not some cryptic intruder," he started -- he didn't seem to notice that Y/N's focus was still fixed on subduing the heat rising in her neck, "can I buy you that drink?"

—————————

THUS BEGAN THE rest of their night. It was nearly eleven when Dolley texted her from the other side of the room, a frantic plea for forgiveness if she went home with James. (She swore, she hadn't meant to leave Y/N alone on their first night out together -- besides, Y/N seemed to have found a nightcap of her own. Forget a tall drink of water; the stranger in burgundy was a daiquiri and a half -- Dolley's words, not mine.)

And really, Y/N didn't mind. She was more than willing to walk home alone if it meant a night of just a little adventure. She ended up staying at the bar with Thomas until the owner nearly had to throw them out -- and Y/N couldn't blame them. Neither of them had had anything to drink in over an hour, so she supposed that as the clock neared midnight, they really weren't making much of a dent in the profit margin.

But it wasn't her fault, really. No one told her when she'd left her apartment that evening that, for once in her life, the person sending her a drink wouldn't be an incel with a god complex. Quite frankly, not only was that bullet dodged, but Thomas quickly proved to be more than a few inches above the low, low bar she'd set.

The night grew colder outside the windows, but the pair of them were preoccupied, busy inching closer, her hand falling upon his arm when she laughed, his legs brushing against hers as he acted as though he hadn't even noticed. They could both tell her demure front was just for show; her skin burned under his touch, layers of fabric be damned, and his gaze was electric. She'd long since thrown caution to the wind, anyway. Where the night was headed was clear only minutes after he'd sat down beside her; the air between them was charged. Sure, she'd only met him a couple hours prior, but any sort of a spark could certainly make a fire to last at least one night -- and last it did.

However, she didn't expect to have to be the one to push it that far. Brazenness seemed to be Thomas's mode of operation, so she was almost surprised when their being herded out onto the street below didn't immediately end in his hands on her skin, her body pulled flush against him. When they reached the musty alleyway, she was struggling to believe the firebrand of a man who'd bought her a drink hours before had suddenly become so mild in the night air.

But he'd bought her a drink. The ball was in her court.

"You cold, sweetheart?" Y/N glanced back over her shoulder, shivering, to see Thomas watching her with concern in his eyes. To be candid, she was fine -- winter in D.C. had nothing on the frigid bite of the air in Finland -- but she couldn't pretend how worried he looked wasn't part of what was tempting her to deal with the devil, heavy shadows clinging to his brow.

"I'm alright," she replied quietly, offering him a reassuring smile, but his creased brow didn't part.

"You sure? That coat doesn't look all that heavy."

"Really. I'm okay," she said with a light laugh, though she didn't think how she'd begun sniffling as her nose started to run was helping her case all that much. "I have a short walk home; it's no biggie."

That, however, made his eyebrows shoot toward his hairline. "You're walkin' home? Y/N, I dunno how safe that is."

"It's hardly snowing."

"I mean for you to be alone in the city in the middle of the night," he said, pausing as he reached where she stood just before the opening of the alleyway. "Can I call you an Uber?"

She turned her head to find him right by her side, perhaps an inch between the pair, his warm breath tickling her neck as he looked down at her. Her smile was hesitant. "I'm not letting you burn up some fossil fuels for a two block car ride. I can take care of myself."

"How 'bout if I walk you home?" he offered, and she let out a light sigh. "C'mon, leavin' you here alone in the middle of the night doesn't sit right with me. If somethin' happened..."

Though he trailed off, the implication in his words was obvious, and Y/N raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that, because a stranger might follow me home, I should let a different stranger follow me home to prevent it?"

When she put it like that, Thomas couldn't help his quiet laugh at the irony of the situation. "Hey, I thought we'd agreed I'm not a stranger anymore," he protested, but Y/N looked him up and down skeptically.

"What, you paid for my drinks and called me pretty, and suddenly we're besties?"

"Now, we both know 'besties' wasn't exactly what I was goin' for," he said matter-of-factly, his smile sharp but playful, and despite how tilted the whole situation felt, she couldn't hold back her chuckle. She rolled her eyes, stuffed her hands in her pockets as she turned back to the well-lit sidewalk before them, the January snow crunching under her boots, but when she met his eyes, Thomas's expression had softened. He rose an inquiring eyebrow, and finally, she sighed.

"Yeah, you walking me home would be nice."

A grin split his light demeanor. "Alright. Lead the way, sweetheart."

"Follow me."

They took a right out of the alleyway, and as traffic continued to roar by beside them, speeding through the night, as the low buzz of the antiquated streetlights permeated the air, they fell into a comfortable silence, never falling out of step with one another. Snow was flecked across both their coats, and shadows were cast across their features, cycling back with each passing lamp.

Y/N hadn't been exaggerating when she deemed it a short walk home; it couldn't have been more than five minutes before they found themselves nearing the front steps of her building, and she looked up at him.

"Hey, thanks for tonight," she said, voice timid, and he turned to her with a wide smile.

"'S been my pleasure," he replied. "Sorry for keepin' you out so long; your roommate must be startin' to wonder."

When Y/N laughed lightly, Thomas raised an eyebrow, apparently not following whatever she'd taken away from his words. "I have a feeling she's a little too preoccupied to be worrying about me right now," she said dryly. She'd been back in town for not 48 hours, and Dolley was already going out on her own -- as supportive as Y/N was, Dolley had a habit of getting too attached too quickly. She was praying James wouldn't end up another regrettable hookup.

However, Thomas couldn't exactly hear her thoughts, something Y/N hadn't considered before tightly grabbing ahold of the rope to her mental tangent -- it was his fault, really. She couldn't be blamed for his lack of talent in mind-reading. But as he continued to watch her expectantly, as she pulled herself back to the present, she finally said, "She's spending the night with someone else tonight. Make of that what you will."

He shook his head in amusement. "Good for her."

"I'm sure her host thinks so."

A moment passed in quiet under the frigid night sky, Y/N hesitant to act but Thomas hesitant to leave. He was the one to break it.

"It was good to meet you, Y/N," he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows. Her window of opportunity was dwindling. "Hope I'll see you--"

"D'you want to come upstairs?" She hadn't meant to cut him off, but the words were spilling from her tongue before she could lose her nerve. Her heart was pounding; she wasn't fond of having to make the risky move, and the tentativeness in his raised eyebrows wasn't helping.

"Seriously?" Oh, God. Was it really such a ridiculous idea that he was struggling to believe she was asking? "I..." Thomas let out a heavy sigh when he trailed off before pursing his lips, tongue in cheek and looking everywhere but at her. "'S temptin', but... I can't do that to you."

Y/N only stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"You've been drinkin' all night." His tone left little room for negotiation, but she was on the edge of taking offense. "I know you don’t seem drunk, but if your judgment isn't all the way there, it's not happenin'. G'night, sweetheart."

She was still standing in stunned silence when he turned to walk back the way he came, but when he started retreating in her field of vision, she called after him, "Hang on." To her relief, he looked back at her quizzically, footsteps stalling on the snow-coated sidewalk, and she took a step toward him. "I've been drinking seltzer water and fruit juice all night, Thomas," she said, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "So if you're not interested, you don't need to make excuses, but I'm asking you while perfectly sober."

Her stomach seemed to be trying to turn itself inside-out as she waited anxiously for him to respond; the calculated way he looked her over only exacerbated the feeling. "Have you had anything to drink tonight?"

"Next to nothing." The pause between them was heavy, both their minds racing but far from in consensus. "Your move, Thomas."

Not three seconds passed before he was striding toward her decisively, and she inhaled sharply when his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek, thumb sweeping over the expanse of skin. She was flush against his chest, too surprised to even react, her hands resting at his upper chest, and her eyes widened when she felt his cheekbone brush against the crown of her head. He tilted his head down to look at her, his lips hardly a hair away from the top of her ear. She could feel his breath down her neck, setting her nerves alight. "Can I kiss you?"

Her answer was immediate. "Please."

And before she had time to think, his lips were on hers; he was tangling a hand into her hair. He wasted no time in starting to walk her back toward her building, steadying her with a firm grip on her waist as she stumbled backward.

She yelped when her heel hit the bottom step up to her building's door, and she broke the kiss, then clinging to his shoulders in an effort not to fall, struggling to hold her weight on her legs as she lifted one foot onto the first step. Both their chests were heaving, and Thomas wore a wry grin.

"I've been wantin' to do that since I sent you that martini," he murmured, dipping down to kiss along her jawline, and Y/N let out a breathy chuckle.

"So you had to wait, what, three hours?" she retorted, tone dry. "Oh, how you've suffered."

"Had to wait three hours too long," he corrected her, and before she could jab back at him, his mouth again found hers. She moaned against him when he bit down lightly on her bottom lip, responding in kind by rolling her tongue teasingly against his. It was too much and yet still, not enough. His hands were all over her; she couldn't focus on how his body felt pressed into hers as the sensation quickly overwhelmed her, and when his grip on her hip tightened, she gasped into his mouth.

"Thomas, wait, I--" She was cut off before she could get the thought out. "Thom-- Mmh--!" He kissed her ardently, reveling in her response to his touch every bit as much as she was reveling in the feeling of it. Regardless, she pulled back, looking him in the eye, and held him off with a hand on his chest. "Let's go in. I'd rather be somewhere a lot warmer and a little more..." --she traced a finger down the lapel of his designer coat with a sly smile, finally using it to pull him closer-- "...private."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He split from her, tugging her alongside him and up the stairs by her hand, and her eyes widened at his frantic movements. She didn't even flinch at first, stunned by how abrupt the action had been, but when he glanced back over his shoulder at her, her fingers already linked between his, she drew in a shuddering breath.

"Let's go."

From there, their night was a blur of heavy jeans and chunky sweaters being scattered across Y/N's bedroom, their coats discarded and long forgotten not three feet past her apartment door. Whatever gods were above seemed to have smiled on her; she and Dolley both striking it lucky on the same night felt too perfect for it to be coincidental, especially as Y/N's bedroom door slammed loudly behind them, her body pinned against its interior moments later.

Every impatient touch was ablaze, brimming with fireworks and crave as her eager hands found their way up his shirt, his curls bouncing when he pulled it over his head.

It was all reckless, every second of it, but as Y/N saw it, what was the worst that could happen? The occasional uncomfortable run-in with Thomas if they passed on the street? That was beyond worth her evening of adrenaline. She gasped when he pushed her back onto her mattress, climbing on immediately after her.

"Thomas," she moaned, threading her fingers into his curls as his lips worked their way down her neck.

"What is it, sweetheart? Hm?"

She squealed when he nipped at her sensitive skin, nails digging into his upper back, but her tense muscles relaxed as he began sucking a hickey into the same spot a moment later. "I need you. Please."

She could feel his smile against her skin, the vibrations of his light chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He pulled back as the pads of his fingers dug into her hips, and she inhaled sharply. His eyes were shining, predatory and smug. "How could I say no?"

——————

COME THE NEXT morning -- or, really, the next afternoon -- Y/N was grateful to have escaped without a hangover, completely absent a headache, the light of day not even a bother as it glared past her curtains. However, the minute she tried to sit up, she realized that she certainly had a backache, and she wasn't entirely convinced her legs would be willing to work when she tried to stand.

Realization struck her a moment later; she winced as she sat bolt upright, ignoring the ache in her shoulders when she lunged for her phone. Oh, shit.

"Thomas," she hissed, shoving his snoring body through her comforter. "Thomas, wake up."

He sniffed as he shifted in her bed, trying to speak through his heavy yawn. "What's goin' on?"

"What's going on is that it's almost two o'clock." Her scowl was deep-set as she shoved the covers off of herself, paying him little mind as she began to root through her drawers for something to wear. "And you need to go. I have somewhere to be."

It hadn't occurred to her to be self-conscious as she paced through her room, but when she turned back to see Thomas's lazy stare following her still-naked body, she could feel her cheeks flare. "Get dressed."

"Alright, alright," he said, sleep still heavy in his voice as he reached for his phone where he'd discarded it on his long-abandoned jeans. She didn't see it, busy pulling on underwear and yanking on a hoodie over her the heavily-marked skin of her chest. "Fuck. I'm gonna be late."

She rolled her eyes when his own panic was finally what kicked him into gear, as he began shoving his legs back into his pants in a frenzy. "Jesus, do I need to get home," he muttered to himself, unsteadily typing something into his phone with one hand as he struggled to buckle his belt with the other. "Sorry for crashin', I--"

"It's fine; it was late as all hell," Y/N cut him off, too preoccupied to concern herself with what'd happened the night prior. She was clinging to the desperate hope that her laptop might not be dead as she dug through he drawers for its charger. "When you find all your stuff, you can just go."

"Alright. I..." He glanced to her hesitantly, pausing in his quest to put himself back together before he could flee with his dignity and whatever plans he had for that afternoon still intact. She glanced at him inquisitively in his silence. "I'll see you around, Y/N."

She offered him a small smile before he returned to trying to dig up his sweater, completely oblivious to where he could've possibly tossed it. "Let's hope so."

Those were all the words exchanged before she ducked into her bathroom, began running the shower, and wiped her smeared mascara from where it'd been running down her cheeks. Thomas left with no more pomp or circumstance.

She hardly had time to fix her appearance after she showered, doing the bare minimum before she rushed back to check on the charge her laptop had left. 74% would be enough to make it through her first lecture, right? She didn't waste a second on dwelling.

Her first class was, to her dismay, halfway across campus from her apartment. She hardly slipped into the lecture hall in time, the clock striking 2:59 PM as she took a seat toward the back, quietly greeting the person in the seat beside her as they glanced up from their phone. Maybe her rolling up less than sixty seconds before the lecture began wasn't exactly the best first impression for her, coming in as a 2nd semester junior at a new college, but she'd managed to beat Professor Jefferson, so it appeared she was safe.

It was 3:03 when he showed up; Y/N had just finished convincing the fan on her laptop to stop shrieking, had found a pen nestled into the deepest depths of her bag. She was scrolling absentmindedly through Twitter when the back doors of the lecture hall were thrown open one final time. She didn't look up at first, but his voice made her eyes widen.

"Afternoon, everybody. Hope you've all been doin' well through the long winter." His voice was upbeat as he padded down the carpeted steps toward the desk at the front of the room.

Y/N was fairly sure she was going to be sick, and unfortunately, she had no hangover to chalk it up to. Disbelief permeated her every shaky breath, the feeling trounced only by dread. Her throat had gone dry.

"For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Professor Jefferson. I started in the political science department this last fall," he said as he reached the floor, loud voice projected through every corner of the hall, tone joking when he added, "And for anyone who's eventually gonna ask, I promise 'm well aware of how young I am."

When he turned around, Y/N's worst fears were realized -- though, she was certainly surprised at how put-together he looked, having left her apartment just one short hour earlier.

"I've spent the past few years workin' in government, but I'm glad to be back in classrooms, even if I'm on the other side of 'em." He set his briefcase down on his desk, looking the room over as he withdrew his papers, opened his laptop. Y/N was sinking progressively further and further down in her chair. "I trust you've all done the assigned readin'?"

He was met with a scattered chorus of yeses and halfhearted noises of affirmation, and he chuckled. "Well, 'm glad to hear you enjoyed 'em so much."

She wasn't sure whether his words being met with soft laughs dispersed throughout the room was because of the sarcasm sitting heavy in his words, or instead because of how contagious his bright grin was.

"Alright, alright, the enthusiasm'll get there. Feel free to pull up the syllabus on whatever you've got with you, but it'll be projected up here as we go through it." The class sounded slightly more awake by then, and while it surely wasn't everyone, Y/N felt confident enough that a decent fraction of the noise was her classmates murmuring with disbelief about how this was their professor, no doubt interspersed with jokes about suddenly taking an intimate interest in political philosophy, capped off with a wink.

But she was no one to judge. Despite being unsure whether her heart was trying to beat its way through her ribcage or if it'd altogether stopped, when Thomas leaned against the front of the desk, arms folded and ankles crossed, she couldn't bring herself to regret the events of the past sixteen hours -- were she given a chance to turn back time, it was a mistake she'd readily make again.

"I'll take any questions as we go on through it," he continued, but that time, as he scanned the crowd, Y/N's luck seemed to have run out. However, though she'd been given the luxury of a gradual realisation, the inevitable punch in the gut of recognition hit him all at once. His eyes locked onto hers, immediately going wide, his expression dropping to one of alarm, and she held his gaze warily.

His silence was a fraction of a second too long, long enough to raise questions, before his self-awareness kicked in, and he picked his jaw up off the floor. The smile he plastered on was riddled with unease. "Hope everything in the course description was clear. I have no doubt this'll be an... excitin' semester."

He played off his shock easily, falling back into his upbeat persona, but as he went on, Y/N felt lucky she'd already read the syllabus — she didn't process a single word out of his mouth. The class was three hours long, and only five minutes into the first day, she’d apparently already slept with her professor.

If this was the semester she had ahead of her, then, well... 'exciting' was certainly a word for it.

[hheeyyhay]

The Familiarity of New Memories

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader (can pass as gender neutral if ya squint)

Summary: Old traditions make way for new ones as reader makes new friends with the help of a certain ball of fur. 

OR Shinso volunteers at a shelter with a grumpy old cat who just so happens to play matchmaker between himself and the newcomer to town.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy my contribution to the Konoha Simps’ latest server collab!! You can check out all the other wonderful pieces in this event right here. This is the first piece of fan fiction that I have written since high school, and the first piece I have ever put out into the world for others to see. I cannot thank the members of the Konoha Simps Server enough for giving me the motivation and courage I needed to FINALLY do this-- I love you guys so much!! 

Warning(s): fluff, mentions of anxiety/depression

quirkless college AU

Word Count: ~3K

There was no doubt about it, summer was officially on the way out. You could tell by the way green leaves were giving way to crisp splotches of red, yellow, and orange. In the way the cool breeze kissed your cheeks as it danced by. Most importantly, you could tell by the way your workload for classes picked up.

You tried to take in your surroundings-- take a moment to process a quick hello to autumn, and with it a farewell to simpler times. Gone would be the times where your biggest worries were what kind of trouble you would have to convince the rest of your friends to stay out of in between shifts at the local cafe. Normally, this goodbye was easier to say as it leaned to the happier side of bittersweet. After all, back home fall was your favorite season. That was all in the past though.

In your hometown, your walks around the neighborhood at the start of fall were comforting. You could stroll the streets with a snack in one hand, and a warm drink in the other as you headed to meet up with your friends under the canopy of changing leaves at the park. With textbooks sprawled across picnic tables and blankets the support of your friends kept you all warm against the slowly dropping temperatures. However, it was no longer the streets of your hometown that you were strolling along with a backpack over your shoulders, and it was no longer your friends at your side, but strangers.

You shivered, pulling your thick cardigan closer around yourself with a heavy sigh. You had been so certain that moving hundreds of miles away from home to finish your college work was a good idea. You had told your anxious family and friends that you would be fine, being alone in a new place for a while was just a sacrifice you had to be willing to make in order to pursue your dreams. Yet you began to doubt the truth in your own claims as the usual cold autumn wind whipped your hair about. It felt foreign rather than welcome as it would back home. The chill sunk into your bones where it mixed with your new found loneliness causing you to wrap your arms around your middle.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you thought to yourself pulling out your phone to see no new messages in response to all the ones you had sent out. You had known your friends for years and were lost without them. You sighed once more, shaking your head as you pocketed your phone. It had been the fifth time in an hour that you checked your phone knowing there were not any notifications you had already seen. You scolded yourself for being foolish and worrying that your friends had moved on without you. 

You had been distracted by the chatter of your own inner demons the entire rest of your walk, and it was not long before you were turning off the sidewalk onto the back walkway leading around to the front of the library.

You were headed inside to study on your own at the tables inside. It had become your new tradition after having found it too hard to study outside at any of the parks, where all the passerby would remind you of just how lonely you were here in this new town. As you rounded the corner and came up alongside the library you paused, noticing a lot more noise and chatter than usual. Balloons and signs amongst the visitors caught your eye. “Adoption day?”

You wandered closer to the tents that were set up in a corner of the parking lot. Upon closer inspection you realized that the people were gathering around various cages, crates, and pens filled with pets from the local shelter. There were as many different people there looking for new four legged family members to bring home as there were animals. Some children were leaning over a crate full of guinea pigs, others were picking out rabbits from one of the other pens, and still others were begging their parents for either a puppy or kitten. There were couples young and old alike speaking with the volunteers about which cat or dog was the best fit for them. You wished you could hang around a little longer, but there were so many people in such a small space that you could not help, but feel anxious. Turning away to finally walk inside you pulled out your phone once more to smile down at your lock screen; a photo of your cat from back home. 

Pocketing your phone you caught a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of your eye. Following your line of sight as you walked away, you were surprised to recognize a boy from campus. If his wild purple hair and dark under eye bags were not enough to make him stand out from the crowd then his lanky limbs decked out in his unique dark, edgy style definitely was. You paused at the top of the staircase to the library and watched as he spun around to crouch in front of a cage. As he stood there squatting in front of the cage you realized that he was a volunteer from the shelter along with the others.

With one last final look over your shoulder you walked through the door, leaving the boy and all the homeless pets outside. As he disappeared from view at your departure, you caught a last glimpse of him pulling a rather forsaken cat out of the cage he had previously been standing in front of. Heading to your usual secluded table behind some less frequented bookshelves you tried to not think of the cat or the boy who held it in his arms. From what you had observed from your short visit to the Adoption Day Event, no one else had shown the poor old cat any sort of attention. The lump of fur was not only fluffy, but a bit on the large side, and while his coat was far from scraggly you could tell that he had only recently fallen on some sort of good fortune. He was missing a leg and both eyes, rendering him blind. It made you sad to think that the others were more than likely passing over the cat in favor of the other healthier, younger cats who would not have as many problems. As far as the boy, you could not even begin to guess why he seemed to be clouding up your thoughts. It was not like you had ever spoken to him before. 

Your thoughts were a jumbled mess and before you had known it you were throwing your pen down in frustration. “Ughhhh! This is useless! It has been two hours and I have barely put a dent into this chapter,” you dropped your head into your notebook as you slammed your textbook closed. 

“Maybe I would have been better off just studying at home afterall,” you thought to yourself as you packed up the rest of your belongings. 

You stopped at the circulation desk on your way to the exit to check out a book you had reserved on your previous trip in. “At least today wasn’t a total loss,” you thought to yourself as you gripped the book to your chest and headed for the door.

As you threw open the door and made your exit you were once again met with the chill of the outside air. It did not feel as cold as it had that morning though. You looked down at the book clutched to your chest and then back out across the parking lot. With a smile on your face and a new sense of determination that you had not felt since you had moved you found yourself walking across back to the makeshift shelter. The crowds from earlier had long since thinned only serving to further justify your impulsive decision. 

With a deep breath you had brought yourself up to one of the tables where the last few volunteers were congregated around the forlorn cat. Everything else was just about picked up and it was clear he had not been able to find a “furever” home at the event. The volunteers, mostly middle aged women with bright smiles, greeted you and asked if you wanted any information on the shelter they were from or if you were perhaps interested in volunteering yourself.

You explained that you had recently moved to the area to finish your schooling, but that you had been especially missing your cat from back home. You showed them a few pictures as you expressed interest in the cat lounging on the table and using his one good front paw to swat away anyone who tried to pet him.

A deep voice from behind you startled you out of your conversation, “You really want that mangey thing instead of a cute kitten?” 

You turned around and were met with the lanky boy from campus. You had been about to argue with him, stand up for your new feline friend when you noticed the boy was giving you a devilish smirk and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Shinso Hitoshi,” he extended his other hand to you, “I’ve uh--seen you around school a few times.”

You shook the offered hand and introduced yourself as well, “We have two classes together. I’d hope you’ve seen me around at least once or twice.” You tried to play it off cool as a blush crept up the back of your own neck. Your eyes searched each other up and down briefly and it took a lot of self control to not make an attempt to hide your face as you felt the blush grow across your cheeks as you watched Shinso’s own face begin to turn red. 

“Ahh, well, I’m fostering old Charlie here until he recovers more from his surgery,” Shinso made a show of gesturing to his own eyes and then to Charlie’s like it was some secret or he did not want to hurt the cat’s feelings. You could not help, but stifle a laugh. From the impressions you had of Shinso you had not expected him to be so forward, or funny for that matter. “Lucky for you, Charlie is quite picky and has scared away any potential suitors.”

Shinso reached around you and was able to give Charlie a few successful scratches under his chin. You reached forward too and copied Shinso’s movements. While Charlie was a little hesitant at first, he quickly warmed up to you and much to Shinso’s surprise, even let you pick him up and give him forehead kisses.

“Alright, well I guess you passed the test,” he congratulated you as he took Charlie from your arms and gently placed him into a carrier. “He has another week or so, until he’s ready to go to a new home. If you want you can fill out one of the adoption contact cards and then one of us at the shelter can give you a call when it’s time for him to get ready to go home to you?” Shinso turned away as he once again began rubbing the back of his neck as he started turning red again, “Orrrrr, I don’t know. Maybe you could give me your number and I could text you updates or something?”

The other volunteers had slowly begun to disperse during your interaction with Shinso, and the last older woman who was left chuckled a bit to herself as she passed you a clipboard with the adoption paperwork. “Just fill this out for me dear and then Charlie will be all yours pending his final follow up with the vet. Shinso can go ahead and answer any questions you may have.” She gave you a final pat on the shoulder as she wandered off to help the others finish cleaning up.

You quickly filled out the paperwork and handed it back to Shinso, your phone sitting on top of the clipboard unlocked and already opened to the messaging app so he could add his number, “Please don’t tell me you volunteer at the shelter just to use the poor animals as your wingmen.”

Shinso made quick work of adding his number to your contacts and made sure he had yours as well before adding the clipboard to a pile on the table. “Only when they help me get the courage to finally talk to a girl I’ve had my eye on since she first transferred a couple weeks ago.” His face was red and his eyes were downcast. You wondered if maybe your first impressions of him were true and that Charlie had inspired him to do something out of his comfort zone just like the cat had done for you.

You could not put your finger on it, but you once again found your thoughts swimming with the boy from campus. This time though you had a name and even a voice to put to the face. You were not ready to say goodbye and decided to stay to help Shinso and the other volunteers finish cleaning up. The sun was quickly setting at that point and as the darkness rolled in so did another bout of cool autumn wind. However, this time you hardly noticed it. It carried a clean, crisp scent of fall that felt the most familiar than it had since your move. 

You passed the time with idle chit chat, quickly becoming closer and closer to Shinso. You learned a lot about each other and came to realize you had a lot more in common than you would have ever thought. 

Pausing you closed your eyes and tilted your head back taking a few deep breaths. It had been ages since you felt this content. You were not alone, you were not worried about the many different reasons your friends could possibly have for not texting you back, and you were not worried about the fear of never finding somewhere to fit in within this new place. You walked over to where Shinso had Charlie’s carrier resting on the sidewalk leading towards the back of the library. Kneeling down you poked your fingers as far through the bars as you could manage, “Thanks Charlie. Without you, I really wouldn’t have any friends here and I don’t think I would be able to love the fall anymore. With you by my side maybe I’ll be able to remember being stuck in this new place will be worth it all in the end.” 

You had not realized that Shinso had come up behind you, and you bumped into him as you tried standing up. He gripped your elbow tightly as you regained your balance, “So you really are new around here huh? I thought so, but. Well. I don’t know.” Shinso shrugged his shoulders sheepishly as he let go of you and quickly gave you back your space. As he avoided your gaze and looked up at the setting sun you noticed just how dark the circles under his eyes really were. 

“Yeah. Uhm,” you shifted your weight back and forth nervously as you tugged at your own sleeves. “Thanks for helping me with the adoption stuff. I hope Charlie doesn’t give you too much of a hard time before he can come home.”

There was a tension in the air as you were both starting to get cold as the dark approached, but neither of you particularly wanted to be the first to leave. You tucked a strand of loose hair between your ear, using the action to hide your face a bit as you gnawed on your lip. Shinso mirrored your uneasy behavior, staying halfway turned away and pulling his fingers through the mop of purple hair on his head. Luckily, Charlie had woken up and given a pitiful meow that sounded more like a chirp. It was just the encouragement you both needed as you and Shinso were once again able to make eye contact.

“It’s getting pretty dark and looks like it may rain,” Shinso broke away and looked up at the sky momentarily. You could not help, but be mesmerized by the way the sunset played on his pale features, accentuating his jawline. You felt the blush making its presence known on your face once more and simply nodded. Charlie chirpped again as if he were trying to encourage Shinso to continue on before he blew his shot. “My place isn’t too far from here. We could head there and hangout with Charlie for a bit to wait out the rain, and then I could walk you home if you’d like?...”

You could tell Shinso was nervous to hear your answer as he began rubbing at the back of his neck. Grabbing his wrist to gently guide it back down you flashed him a genuine smile as it felt like a weight was being lifted from your shoulders. The moment was interrupted by Charlie who decided that was the perfect opportunity to make it known that it was past his dinner time. “Come on Shinso, we wouldn’t want to make old Charlie think we’re planning on starving him.”

Shinso laughed and bent down to grab the carrier. “Wait until he realizes he’s going on a d-i-e-t after he’s fully healed up,” he spelt out. Charlie made a noise from the back of his carrier like he understood what Shinso was saying and was not pleased about it, which only made you laugh that much harder.

You once again found yourself taking the rear pathway behind the library into town. This time was different though. You were no longer alone. You had two new friends you could confide in. The leaves dancing in the autumn breeze were once again a welcomed sight. The dropping temperatures no longer reached the innermost corners of your bones amplifying your loneliness. The ghosts of the memories of your friends were no longer haunting you everywhere you looked as you walked down the street. There was now someone special you could create new memories and cherish the autumn with.

[lavendersuh]

“how much do you hate me?”

pairing: fuckboy!mark tuan/reader

genre: college!au, childhood neighbors, enemies to lovers, fluff, mild angst

word count: 2.3k

a/n: you should know how much i love enemies to lovers ok i really really love it,,,, this is based off the drabble prompt “how much do you hate me?” “not enough to say no immediately what do you want” enjoy! xx

“How much do you hate me?” 

The question came from behind you, as you sat reading a textbook and munching on an apple between classes. You spin around to see Mark Tuan, resident fuckboy on campus, smirking down at you. 

He wasn’t just the resident fuckboy, but he was also your childhood neighbor, the boy that you watched grow up beside you. It still baffled you that somehow you both had managed to choose the same college. You, for the creative arts program, and he, for the fraternities. The lives you led were different, yet somehow had always paralleled each other.

You were never really friends with Mark, despite your mothers putting you in the sandbox together at a young age. Pulling your pigtails at the age of six didn’t necessarily leave you with the best first impression of him, and that animosity followed you as you both grew up. Arguments ensued throughout the occasional dinners your families would hold together. It always left you frustrated, wishing you had a grumpy old man as a neighbor rather than the increasingly attractive boy you were stuck with.

Awkward teen years and the constant bickering warranted a bit of anger when you realized he chose the same college as you. Would you ever escape this man?

You close your book slowly, as he sits down next to you. It’s early on a Saturday morning, so the library is mostly empty. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Not enough to say ‘no’ immediately,” you say, “What do you need?”

He beams at you and you notice how much he’s changed. You have only seen him in passing glance in one of the dining halls since arriving on campus, and his hair is more blonde since the last time you saw him in the beginning of summer. He wears a hoodie with his frat logo on it, with sweatpants and a hat.

“You know me so well, Y/N.” he says, “I need you to kiss me.”

You immediately recoil, “What the hell?”

He laughs, “Not right now, but tonight at a party my frat is hosting. I’m trying to hook up with this girl and I want to make her jealous.” 

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” you exclaim, before pausing, “What’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of knowing you helped one of your lifelong, childhood friends get laid by a senior?” he throws you a convincing smile, “The fact that you’ll have kissed your high school crush?”

You go to stand up, packing up your books into your bag, “I am not helping you seduce a girl, I don’t care if she’s a senior.” You look back at him, “And I didn’t have a crush on you! Where did you get that dumb idea?”

“Your mom told my mom,” he mentions, “You know how they love to gossip.” 

It was true, your mothers both were quite the little gossips. But the fact that you did, indeed, have a crush on Mark was something you never told your mother. It was a secret you would keep to the grave. He would never had let you live it down.

He goes to follow you as you descend the stairs, leading out to the Quad. You continue to bicker with him as you make your way back to your dorm hall, and it feels all too familiar. Arguing with Mark is a sport, and you were a pro.

“I do not support using manipulation to get someone into bed with you. Just tell her you want to fuck! What is with guys and zero communication these days, Jesus.” you huff. 

“If I do that she might think I want more than just a one time thing!”

“Then communicate that you just want to hookup!”

You reach your dorm hall and just as you are about to slide your ID and open the door, he slides between the door and you. 

“Ok, listen, what if I sweeten the deal?” he reasons, “How’s $10 and some free booze?”

You sigh. He has always been stubborn. 

“How about $30?” You’ve always been stubborn too. 

He rolls his eyes, but holds out his hand, “Fine, deal, be there at nine, okay?”

You grasp his hand in a firm handshake, “Can’t wait,” the sarcasm drips off the words. 

It would certainly be an interesting night.

By the time you got to the frat house at ten, the party was in full swing. People littered the front yard, and as soon as you walked into the house, you were met with heat and smoke. You’d never been to this house before, but the kitchen was easy to find. Grabbing a beer from the coolers lining the wall, you cracked it open, wondering where Mark was.

You wandered around a bit before seeing a head of blonde hair coming toward you.

“Hey, you made it! I honestly didn’t think you would show up,” he chuckles, a beer in his own hand.

“I came from the booze and the grocery money,” you grin at him. You never were a lightweight, but the taste of alcohol already begins to loosen you up a bit. “So, where’s this girl you’re trying to make jealous?” 

“Not sure yet!” 

You whip your head around to look him in the eye, “What? You don’t have someone specific in mind? Why am I even here?”

He laughs, guiding you through some of the crowds of dancers, “I’m trying out a new technique. You know how chicks get jealous.”

Your face morphs into disgust. Of course he thinks like that. 

“Have you always been this shallow? This inept?” you ask.

“Hey, look who’s following along with my plan, eh?” 

You huff, and take a few more swigs of the beer in your hand. Mark stays next to you, nursing his own drink, watching you curiously. It’s been so long since you’ve really talked to Mark, yet the bickering dynamic feels like you talk everyday. 

It takes a few moments, of drinking and taking in the sights of the party around you, before you come to a decision. Taking the last gulp of your last drink, you muster up your courage and look at Mark. 

“Alright, I’m starting to get tipsy, I'm kind of curious to see if this will work. Find your target, let’s go.” you tell him.

He grins, “Give me ten minutes, I’ll meet up back here.”

With that, he’s off, and you go to grab another drink. At least there’s booze, you think. You find your spot back along the wall and try to find Mark in the crowd. Eventually you spot him, talking up a pretty brunette, who isn’t as into it as he would probably like. 

Watching him flirt relentlessly with the girl brought back memories of high school. Of hugging the wall at parties, watching him flirt and go for the girls in other classes. It was odd watching the shy neighbor boy transform in such little time.

Whenever you crossed paths with Mark nowadays, it always made life interesting. While he constantly drove you insane, you also felt nostalgic for the simple high school days of dumb arguments.

While you are caught in your own thoughts, you don’t notice Mark approaching you. He swoops his arm around your waist, taking you on a trip through the crowd. He nuzzles his nose next to ear, sending a chill down your spine. 

He whispers in your ear, “Let’s find a place to start the show, eh? She’s hanging with her friends in the living area.” 

He leads you through the house, finding a bookcase in the back of the living room. As he spins you around to lean against the bookcase you catch a glimpse of the brunette he had been talking to. You can’t help but stare at her, as she takes quick looks over at the two of you.

Mark moves in close, his arms coming to rest on either side of you, “Hey,” he catches your attention, drawing your eyes from the girl, “if you get uncomfortable or something, let me know.”

Was Mark being caring? Since when? Wasn’t this the fuckboy that would tease you for paying attention to your studies rather than finding friends? Wasn’t this the very man using you to get in another girl’s pants?

You nod, catching the dark look overtaking his eyes. He glances down at your lips, before leaning in, capturing your lips with his own. 

A warm feeling spreads through you, as he grips your hips and you bring your hands up to encircle his neck. His mouth is warm against your own, and you find yourself not hating this as much as you thought you would. 

You’re still curious, wondering whether the girl is looking over at you, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes and check. Might as well just live in the moment, right? 

You don’t know how long it is before Mark is removing his lips from yours, but as you open your eyes, he rests his forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. 

“Not bad, neighbor,” he comments, sending you a smirk that could probably leave you swooning if not for your pride.

“Ditto,” you reply, through it comes out as a sigh, as you still try to catch your breath. 

He pecks you on the lips once more before fully retreating from you, “Time to see if the plan worked,” he mentions, stepping away. 

You clear your throat, suddenly sobering up, from both the alcohol and Mark. “Right, go get your girl.” 

He throws you another smile before sauntering casually in the direction of the brunette. You look away, suddenly feeling sick at the thought of watching him hook up with someone. 

You weave your way back into the kitchen and manage to score a glass of water. You aren’t really sure how much longer you want to stay. You vaguely recall Mark owing you $30, but you don’t care all that much. 

Deciding you want to leave, you abandon the glass, walking towards the door. Why, surrounded by so many people, do you suddenly feel so alone? 

You stumble out of the frat house and into the cool night. It’s quieter out here, despite the background sounds of the bass and the occasional holler from someone on the lawn. 

The walk home is sobering, to say the least, as you make your way back to your dorm. It’s never been fun walking home from parties, especially when you are all alone and not very drunk anymore. 

You pass other parties, and crowds of people laughing, but you just want sleep, you just want warmth. Coming out tonight was not your finest idea, but you’ve found when it comes to Mark, things always shift from what you planned.

You aren’t sure why you suddenly feel so sad. Is it because Mark is so easily able to find someone to spend the night with? So easily able to talk to others and make connections?

Deep down, in your traitorous heart, you fear it isn’t Mark’s people skills you want, but Mark himself.

You sputter, shaking your head to yourself. That’s crazy, you think. It’s Mark.

By the time you make it back to your dorm hall, you finally accept that it probably is just Mark. You shove that down though, suppress it. That would never happen.

You laugh to yourself, walking up the steps to the front entrance. Blaming all these ridiculous thoughts on your tipsy mind, you don’t hear someone calling out to you until they get closer.

You spin around, only to find Mark staring at you from the sidewalk. He looks out of breath, like he just ran here. He climbs the steps, two at a time and before you know it, he’s standing in front of you, winded and with a wild look in his eyes. 

“Mark?” you ask, confusion evident in your tone, “What are you doing here?”

He’s still breathing heavy, and looking at you like he doesn’t even know the answer. “The girl- she- I don’t know, I can’t stop thinking about- and then-” he pauses, taking a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. 

He tries again, “She wasn’t what I was looking for.”

Your eyebrows knit together, “Oh, so you want me to help again? I’m kinda tired-”

“No! No, I-” he cuts himself off again, “Jesus, I’m so bad at this. I finally got her all alone and it didn’t even matter. I didn’t feel like kissing her, or doing anything.”

“Why?” you ask quietly.

“She wasn’t you.”

You are startled at his words. Shell-shocked. You wonder if you already made it up to your dorm, and were fast asleep, dreaming up this whole situation. 

He steps in front of you, taking your hands gently in his.

“I know we have fought for as long as I can remember.” he tells you, “But kissing you felt right. Tell me you didn’t feel the same. Tell me to stop and I’ll go; I’ll never speak to you again.”

“I-” you can’t find words as you watch him lean closer and closer. 

Because the truth was, something about it did feel right.

“How much do you hate me?” He asks, tilting his head as you feel his breath dance across your lips.

“Not as much as I want to,” you whisper back, pressing your lips to his, letting the emotions of hate and anger flow away has he kisses you back. 

You think back to the days of your adolescence, when your mother would tease you about your bickering with Mark, saying you acted like an old married couple, joking about how eventually the two of you would start dating. You used to think your mom was crazy. But now, with Mark leaning into you, and fireworks exploding in your chest, you wondered if she’s been right all along. 

[in-class-daydreams]

Cherry Blossom | Daichi Sawamura x Reader Oneshot

- Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Reader One Shot 

Word Count: ~ 4600

Genres: Fluff, slight angst, unrequited feelings

CW: Self-deprecating inner thoughts, implied anxiety

Summary: (Y/N), a third year attending Karasuno High School, spirals into confusion as she begins to develop feelings for a certain childhood friend. 

2: 26

‘Are you kidding me?’

The day was already going by extremely slow for (Y/N), and she definitely was not having a good one either. She slept past her alarm until about 20 minutes before class started. In a rush, she attempted to make toast, which she somehow managed to burn, which meant on her sprint to school she had to eat some crusty, burnt ass toast and try not to choke on it. Yum! On top of that, all her lectures throughout the day have been painstakingly slow, and that didn’t improve her mood one bit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hand slip a small piece of paper onto her desk.

“What’re you doing after class today?”

Judging from the handwriting, (Y/N) knew it was from Yui-chan, who, just like (Y/N), could not care less about the titration process.

Discreetly, she wrote and responded back to her note, “Photoshoot. Houka-san said it’ll be on campus today,” and quickly passed it back to her.

After multiple exchanges, the teacher was finally cut off by the bell. At last, they could escape this hellhole known as school. As she packed up her supplies into the bookbag, she felt a hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair. Immediately, she knew who it was.

“Ah! Daichi! Stop it! I have a photoshoot soon, you’ll mess up my hair!”

“What do you mean? It still looks the same,” the boy smiled back. (Y/N) could only look back at him back with the most deadpan expression. Well, she was actually looking up at him quite a bit. She was by no means short, but in comparison to the tall volleyball player, she was definitely on the shorter side.

“Where were you this morning? I waited for you at the usual spot, but you weren’t there.” Daichi asked.

“Overslept. It was a nightmare honestly.” (Y/N) responded while attempting to clear her memory of the chaotic mess that she was that morning.

“Oh? The flawless and perfect (Y/N)-senpai had a stumble getting ready?” Daichi grinned teasingly, with obvious sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Shut up, I’m human too,” she snapped back. “Don’t you have practice soon? You don’t want to be late now, do you, Captain?”

“Suppose not,” he said before facing the other girl standing off to the side, “Ah Michimiya-san, I was going to talk to you about the gym schedule for next week.”

Yui had an obvious flush on her face, and was struggling to get the right words out, let alone look him in the eyes. (Y/N) mercifully suggested that the three of them walk to practice together, so they won’t be late.

‘Hopefully, that’ll give her more time to collect herself and talk to him.”

With all her stuff collected, she went and changed into the bathroom to get ready for the photoshoot. After brushing and styling her hair that Daichi had ruined, she quickly walked out to the cherry blossom trees by the gym to meet up with her photographer.

“My apologies, Houka-san, I got caught up in something.”

“It’s alright (Y/N)-san. Please don’t be late next time. I’m on a strict schedule after all,” she sighed irritatingly, “Now, shall we get started?”

“Ah yes, of course. It won’t happen again,” she sheepishly apologized.

After getting herself together, (Y/N) felt immense ease. Being near the cherry blossoms had always comforted her. Maybe it had something to do with the aesthetic of it, but a lot of it had to do with the lasting memories that came along with it.

~~

Thirteen Years Ago : Age 6

(Y/N) woke up in an unfamiliar room. She sat herself upright, and took a look around the room. Bandages everywhere, a single stool, and a desk with a file folder.

‘Right, I fell asleep in the nurse’s office’

Her mom, being a teacher, told (Y/N) to go take a nap in the nurse’s office while she finished things inside the classroom. She would eventually go wake her up when she was done, or if the young girl woke up early, she could go to her classroom instead.

After straightening herself up, she opened the door and walked down the unfamiliar hallway. The only thing she remembered was that her mother had told the young child her classroom was in a different building. Naturally, she walked outside the building only to realize she didn’t specify which building it was in.

‘Ah shoot.’

Wandering around the large campus only drained the poor girl, and (Y/N) was suddenly overwhelmed with panic that accompanied her with her failure to find her mother’s classroom.

Tears couldn’t help but form in the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall any second now. She ran around the corner, now tears rolling down her face.

With her eyes facing the floor, half closed, and half visible from her hands wiping away her tears, she ran into a wall...or what she thought was a wall.

She looked up to find a boy, with jet black hair who looked to be about her age, looking down at her with a worried expression.

“Hey, you okay? What happened?” he asked.

The tears stopped flowing down her face, and she stood up to reach eye-level to the boy.

“N-no, I don’t know where my mom’s classroom is and I’m lost”

“Here I can help you find it!” The boy replied cheerfully, “I’m Daichi Sawamura by the way. What’s your name?”

“(Y/N) (L/N)”

“(L/N)-chan, we can go look for her classroom together! My dad works as a teacher here too, so I know my way around here pretty good”

Before she could respond, Daichi grabbed her hand and led her away from the cherry tree they were standing under moments ago. Something about him told her that she could trust him without any concern, and she was right.

(Y/N) learned a lot about him while he was leading her. She found out his favorite colour is orange, came to this school everyday after school to wait for his dad to finish work, and that he loved volleyball. After a few minutes, they entered a building filled with different classrooms, and managed to find the right classroom.

“Ah, thank you for the help, Daichi-kun”

“No problem. Say, wanna meet by that cherry tree tomorrow too?”

Little did she know that it would end up being a daily routine to meet there.

~~

The photoshoot ended smoothly, and that edition of the magazine she was shooting for was scheduled to be released sometime within the next month. Nowadays, it wasn’t uncommon to see her pictures on the front cover of popular magazines displayed at stores. Since the beginning of this year, her popularity as a model had skyrocketed beyond anybody’s expectations for someone who rarely posted on her social media. Well, that changed quite a bit after her career took off.

Normally, she would wait for Daichi to be done with practice so they could walk home together, but seeing that she would have to wait an extra 45 minutes or so, she started walking to the gym. Cracking the door open slightly, and seeing the coast was clear, she walked towards the back until a round object was flying towards her at an alarming rate.

Bam! A volleyball slammed into the wall beside her.

‘Phew, barely missed me.’ She looked up after receiving a mild shock, and everyone on the court had their eyes on the mysterious girl who just walked in.

‘Well, so much for sneaking in,’ she mentally slapped herself.

“NOYA-SAN! LOOK! (Y/N)-SENPAI’S HERE!”

“WHAT?!? (Y/N)-SENPAIIIIIIII!”

The two very energetic boys flung themselves at her, and before she could move out of the way, two strong arms held them back mid-jump.

“Oi, knock it off you two,” Daichi scolded. “(Y/N), I thought you said you had a photoshoot. Why are you here?”

“It went really well, so I ended early, and I figured I’d wait for you in here,”

“You could’ve just gone home--”

“Daichi, I’m not gonna break tradition because I ended early--”

As their bickering continued, the first years, particularly the one with some orange hair asked nobody in particular, “Who’s that pretty senpai punching Daichi-san?”

“That’s (Y/N)-chan. She and Daichi have been childhood friends.” A pure angel, by the name of Sugawara, was happy to satisfy his kohai’s curiosity, before mumbling, “though he should really do something about being friends,”

After facing a barrage of punches from (Y/N), Daichi finally got back to practice while she sat on the benches scrolling through her feed and managing her account. Her recent post was filled with support from her fans anticipating her next magazine release, as well as some hate comments, particularly about her age and looks. But honestly, they were irrelevant wimps that had to bully people from behind a keyboard to feel good about themselves, so it never really bothered her too much.

Before she knew it, Daichi’s practice had ended, and she didn’t even notice him get changed and coming back to pick her up. It wasn’t super dark, but having Daichi with her definitely helped her feel reassured, though she could easily fight off a couple people if needed. Regardless, the dim lights added to the comfortable silence as they continued to walk to their houses.

(Y/N) was the first to break the silence, “Hey Daichi,”

He hummed a quiet, “Hmm?” as he continued to look forward.

“Did things go well with Yui-chan earlier? You didn’t scare her off or something did you?” she joked light-heartedly.

“What? I didn’t think I scared her off? Maybe I did on accident?” he began to think about all his interactions with her because God forbid if it was his fault that’s causing tension between them. “You’re probably right though. I don’t think she likes me all that much, or at least she’s uncomfortable around me. I’ve talked to her on multiple occasions because of volleyball, but every time I get the same vibe from her...maybe I did something to offend her… Why? Did she say something about it?”

‘I guess the saying is true. Men are oblivious as fuck.’

“Oh no, I haven’t seen her after she left with you. I was just wondering because you know--”

“Because..?” Daichi stopped for a second to face her.

(Y/N) had to think about it for a second. She remembered Yui-chan’s request from a couple days ago that she couldn’t decline.

~~

“(Y/N), please! You know him really well! I just get flustered really easily around him, but he’s just so sweet! I really like him, can you please help me get noticed by him?” Yui pleaded. Her eyes were filled with genuinity, and after seeing that, there was no way she could say no to her.

~~

“--because I actually think it might be the opposite of what you think.” (Y/N) chose her words carefully, “if anything, I think she’s getting flustered because she really admires you, you know?”

“Really? You think so?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed. ‘And she’s not the only one,’

“Ah well, I mean, I know that feeling. I have for a while actually,” he stated awkwardly. Daichi was not one to express his feelings, so this came across as a big shock to (Y/N), for this was the first time he had ever said anything along the lines of romance.

This time, she was the one to stop suddenly, and before she could process her thoughts, Daichi interrupted her to let her know they’ve reached her house. After quickly saying goodbye, (Y/N) walked up before heading to bed with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

~~

The next day was filled with confusion in (Y/N)’s mind and heart. Her mind was confused because she did not understand one bit as to what the teacher was talking about, but her heart was left aching the entire day. After what Daichi said last night, she couldn’t bring herself to see him. If anything, it caused her to actively avoid him throughout the day. In the years that she’s known him, he’s never brought up his romantic feelings towards someone.

‘Do I like Daichi?’ she asked herself. She slapped both hands to her cheeks, ‘That’s not possible! I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s my best friend! It’s not like that! ...right?’

Yet, simultaneously, the idea of him being with another girl left her feeling queasy. As much as she loved Yui-chan and wanted the best for her, the idea of Daichi being hers gave her an ugly feeling inside that she quite disliked.

‘Will Daichi leave me then? I know he’s not the type to do that, but what if I’m wrong? If it’s Yui-chan that he likes, will she need me afterwards? What if they decide they only need each other, and I go back to being unapproachable?’

She knew that these negative thoughts weren’t true. (Y/N) knew better than to doubt her friends. If anything, she should be grateful that they’re by her side. After all, they don’t treat her like she’s on a pedestal. She was aware that being somewhat “famous” gave people a different perception towards her, but Daichi and Yui-chan still treated her as if she’s still a high school student, not a magazine model, and for that she was greatly appreciative towards them. But with that preciousness comes with the greater fear of loss. Before she could go off on her own tangent, she was interrupted by Yui-chan.

“-N),(Y/N). Class is over. Are you okay? You looked like you were spacing out for a bit?” Yui asked, concerningly, after the girl failed to respond to the bell ringing, and to her continuous (and aggressive) waving. The poor girl looked like she was about to break down from panicking seeing that her attempts to get her friend’s attention were failing.

“O-oh, I guess I’m just a little out of it today.” A familiar sense of fatigue and guilt pained her after seeing her best friend falling apart right in front of her eyes.

‘Clearly, there’s no need to explain the whole truth, right? If I do Yui is going to freak herself out’

“Did something happen between you and Sawamura-kun?” Yui asked innocently.

The sound of his name made her hesitate and shift in her seat. Yui, aware of how she acts when something bothers her, knew that it had to have been just that. Giving her time, Yui waited before (Y/N) responded.

“We were walking home yesterday, and we talked about you,” she started carefully, and glancing over to her friend, it was no surprise to see her eyes filled with anticipation, ready to hear what she would say next. “I didn’t say explicitly that you liked him, but rather you admire him, and with your personality, it could be a little harder for you to be open right away. It came up because he thought you didn’t like him, so I just assured him that wasn’t the case. Then he said something that I’ve never really heard him talk about. He said that he also had that feeling towards someone.”

She looked over once again, Yui, clearly at this point looked like she was going to explode. “I’m not sure who he's referring to, but I figured it’d be you. So, I’ve just been thinking about how to go about with what you’ve asked of me. But, I think it’s safe to say, you should talk to him more. To me it seems like the feeling is mutual between you two.”

She could’ve sworn she could’ve won an Oscar from that performance. To her, she showed no worries of avoiding the truth externally, quite contrary to the painful stabbing inside her chest with every word she breathed. What she said wasn’t completely untrue, but she hated how she couldn’t be open with how she felt. She trusted Yui with all her heart, but Yui’s happiness was more important in this case. Afterall, she didn’t want to destroy her relationship with Yui, and just decided to keep it to herself.

Contrary to how (Y/N) was feeling, her friend was clearly ecstatic. Her face just lit up with joy before jumping out of her seat to hug her friend.

“Thank you so much (Y/N)! You don’t know how much this means to me!” Yui beamed. All she could do was hug back in response.

After Yui left for practice, (Y/N) decided her heart had too much to handle for one day. For the first time since Kindergarten, she broke away from the “ritual,” and walked home alone without Daichi. Quite honestly, it was a weird sensation not having the boy next to her.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the only day that this had occurred. Over the next couple days, she actively avoided Daichi, and continued to walk home without him.

After a few days, (Y/N) slipped on her outdoor shoes and started to head towards the school gates, once again, without the absence of Daichi. Even though days have passed, she still couldn’t get used to the feeling without him. All of a sudden, a large hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her from walking further. Right as she turned around, she saw the one person she didn’t want to see.

“D-daichi!”

‘Great’

He was clearly out of breath as if he had sprinted over to her. ‘Did he run over to me before I could leave?’

“(Y/N). I wanted to talk to you before you left,” he said firmly. The days without talking to him, hearing his voice was so soothing on her mind that momentarily she forgot why she was avoiding him in the first place. Snapping out of her trance, she tried to pull away from his arm to stop them from walking further, but Daichi kept a firm grip on her. She didn’t realize she was back at their usual meeting spot, underneath the cherry blossom tree.

“Daichi, let go of me. I have to leave, and you have practice,” she tried to reason.

“I know you don’t have anything after school today, and practice can wait. This is more important,” he replied, not once breaking eye contact. He was serious about this.

There was a quick pause before he started again, “(Y/N), what’s going on?”

Thump.

“N-nothing” she said weakly, looking away from him. She could feel his gaze on her, and he still never looked away.

“(Y/N), I’m just worried about you. Is everything okay? I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been avoiding me lately. Did I do something wrong to upset you?” he asked cautiously.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I’ve been busy recently, and I wanted you to have time to sort out that feeling of admiration you have towards that person. It seemed like I was going to be holding you back, and I only just realized it after you said it that day.” Her voice was wavering, and she tried her best to keep her feelings in check. It certainly didn’t help that her heartbeat could be heard from miles away.

Thump. Thump.

“This was the first time you’ve ever said anything remotely related to romance, and I know you don’t talk about your feelings a lot. So I thought I would just be getting in your way. I mean, if there was a guy I liked, and I saw a girl around them constantly I would be pretty discouraged about my chances. And--”

Before she could even finish her rambling, she saw him walking closer towards her. She kept backing away slowly, only to be stopped by the cherry blossom tree behind her. Before she knew it, there was a warm,gentle feeling on her lips.

She froze.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Before she could process what was happening, he pulled away, and suddenly the distance between them grew bigger again. (Y/N) stood there looking like a dumbfounded idiot, unsure what to do, but mostly in shock trying to figure out what just happened.

“D-daichi...you, uh, uhm--” she sputtered.

“The girl that I feel admiration for wasn’t Michimiya-san. It’s you. It’s always been you, (Y/N). These last couple days without you near me, or by my side, it’s been so painful. I’ve missed you. You know you mean a lot to me, right. More than I could even tell you.”

“Daichi, I-” she composed herself. She finally looked him in the eyes, and noticed his face was clearly flushed. Oddly enough, that reassured her quite a bit in the moment.

“I don’t need an answer now, (Y/N). But, I just really needed you to know, and whatever you decide, I respect your decision. For all I know, things might change between us, but just know that whatever happens, I’ll still be there for you, always.”

Moments after, silence filled the air, and Daichi took that as his cue to excuse himself, and save himself from making the situation even worse. He shuffled his feet a little bit and glanced up at the girl before he headed towards the gym, only to stop momentarily to look back at her before ultimately deciding to leave her to her thoughts.

‘Oh my god. Daichi and I--!’

That kiss just confirmed that yes, she felt the same as Daichi, and she’s always liked him. That provided some relief for her knowing that his feelings weren’t towards Yui--

‘Oh no--Yui-chan… What am I going to tell her? Should I tell her? Yes, I should, she deserves to know.’

Shortly after, she decided the sooner she tells Yui, the better it will be for everybody.

To: Yui-chan [3:46 pm]: Yui-chan, after practice can we talk? Meet up at StarDollar at 6?

From: Yui-chan [3:47 pm]: Yup, see you then!

~~

6:00 pm

(Y/N) sat nervously at the cafe table waiting for Yui to show up. She got a latte to try and calm herself a little bit before telling her the truth. Seconds later, Yui walked into the shop scanning the room before her eyes landed on her friend, and walked over to her.

“Yui-chan,” (Y/N) started, “I’m sorry for calling you out here last minute, especially right after practice too.”

“Oh no it’s okay. I thought it might’ve been a little serious judging from your tone and all. Is everything okay?” Yui asked, hesitantly.

“Yeah. No. Not really.”

Yui, let her friend collect her thoughts before (Y/N) began to speak again.

“Yui, you have to know how much you mean to me. And I want to apologize for being a terrible friend, and letting this happen,” tears were starting to form in (Y/N)’s eyes. “Today, Daichi confessed to me.”

Silence.

At this point, the tears in her eyes were falling. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her friend’s eyes. She didn’t want to see the face of hurt and betrayal in her precious friend’s eyes. That was, until she left a pair of warm hands wrap around hers.

“(Y/N), you’re not a terrible friend. If you really were, I don’t think you would’ve told me this. In fact, I’m really grateful you trust me enough to tell me this,” she said with a smile on her face.

(Y/N) couldn’t tell exactly what her friend was feeling. She wasn’t mad? Was she beyond pissed, and this was all she could say out of courtesy?

“(Y/N), thank you for telling me this.”

“You’re not pissed?”

“Pissed? No. A little heartbroken? Yes. But I already knew somewhere deep down that the person he admired wasn’t me. I’ve known it was you all along. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and how his face brightens whenever he’s with you. I’ve also seen it with you. If anything, I’ve been the terrible friend. I knew that you two liked each other in some way, but I was being selfish, and I asked you a request that I never should’ve.”

‘I guess then not to make these worse, I might have to reject Daichi. Then that means everything goes back to the way it used to be, right?’

“(Y/N), I know you’re thinking of rejecting Daichi-”

‘Damn it, how did she read my mind?’

“Don’t. I know I shouldn’t tell you what to do, but it seems to me like you two like each other mutually. There’s nothing wrong with accepting a confession from someone you like.”

“But Yui--”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” she gave a small reinforced smile to try and prove some assurance for her emotional friend.

“Yui...thank you,” (Y/N) said as she pulled Yui in for a hug.

“Anytime. I’d never let a man come between our friendship. You mean so much more to me than some guy.” she replied, returning the hug.

After leaving as emotional wrecks from StarDollar, (Y/N) felt some sort of relief inside her. For sure, she felt bad for Yui having to deal with this outcome, but also extremely grateful that she wasn’t willing to jeopardize their friendship.

~~

The next day, (Y/N) woke up feeling a lot more refreshed. Maybe even empowered? She strode to class with an aura of fresh air, and Yui definitely seemed to take notice.

“Good morning (Y/N)!” Yui greeted.

“Good morning Yui!”

“Are you planning on returning his feelings to Sawamura-san soon?” Yui questioned.

“Yeah, I’m planning to do it after his practice today. I have another photoshoot today, but timings should work out if everything goes well,”

“Nice! Good luck (Y/N), you’ve got this!”

The rest of the day flew by quickly, and even the photoshoot went by a breeze. She quickly made it over to the gym where the boys’ volleyball team would be practicing and burst open the doors.

“DAICHI!”

Everyone turned towards her. The tall boy with freckles literally jumped in his spot.

‘Whoops. I’ll apologize to the team later.’

“(Y/N)?” Daichi inquired, “what’re you doing here?”

“Daichi, can we talk? Please?” she pleaded. Before he could answer, she turned to the team behind him, bowing. “Sorry guys, I’ll be borrowing your captain for a moment.” She took Daichi by the arm and dragged him out of the gym.

“It’s about time ‘friends’ became something more,” Sugawara muttered to himself.

Outside, (Y/N) walked towards the cherry blossom where Daichi had confessed to her. Daichi was quite honestly, frozen with shock after being suddenly removed from yelling at the simpletons for going crazy again.

“Daichi-” (Y/N) she started, and his attention snapped back to her, “Daichi, I thought a lot about what you said yesterday, and I have my answer.”

“(Y/N) if you need more time then--” he was cut off.

“Daichi, you mean the world to me. You treat me like (Y/N), the high school student, your childhood best friend, like a normal person, not like someone who’s placed upon a pedestal. That itself means so much to me. But it’s not only that. Daichi, I realized, when I started walking home by myself, my life is so different without you. It’s so boring, so dreadful. You bring joy into my life with just by being near me. And for that, I’m forever grateful.”

“(Y/N)-” his words were cut off this time with another familiar warm feeling.

She placed her lips on his, slightly hesitant at first, and Daichi, hesitant because he couldn’t believe this was happening to him. For years, this was only a mere dream, or fantasy of his, but it was becoming a reality.

After separating, Daichi pulled her into a warm embrace. Her head rested on his chest, and his arms wrapped around her like a protective shield (back off peeps lmaoooo).

This moment was quickly ruined by the rustling in the bushes, followed by the boys’ volleyball team jumping out and yelling in pure joy.

“About time Daichi!”

“Our captain is such a man!”

“(Y/N)-senpai isn’t single anymore, but she’s in the hands of someone trustworthy!”

“Noya-san! That was so deep!”

Fin.

~~

(A/N): This was the first one-shot I’ve ever written, so I hope it turned out okay :)

Special thanks to Apprentice Admin Strawberry-Chan and Mango-Chan for helping me edit this !

- Admin Kiwi-Chan

[makomori]

THREE | INTRODUCTIONS (Brand New Story)

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI x OC

Nishimura Yua has to take her nephew to his first rep practice with the Tohoku Tigers at Shiratorizawa Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi is filling in for the assistant coach on said team.

She’s recovering from a nasty breakup and he’s reeling from a stunning finals loss against the Jackals.

Yua’s drawn to his composure and honesty.

Wakatoshi finds her warmth and tenacity intriguing.

It’s the start of a Brand New Story; can they heal from past hurts and endure new challenges in order to help each other trust and love again?

CHAPTERS

ONE | NEW TERRITORY

TWO | FAMILIARITY

Length: 3.2k words

Yua convinces her nephew that a pepper session with a top V.League player isn't the scariest thing in the world. And Wakatoshi tries to understand the woman who's determination can't be ignored.

Worlds change when eyes meet | David Jones

Yua’s head whipped toward the man in question. No wonder he seemed familiar. He was taller and looked like he gained more muscle compared to the last time she saw him, but that was definitely Ushijima Wakatoshi on the other side of the gym.

But when she considered it, Ushijima-san being a part of the coaching staff made sense. He was one of Shiratorizawa’s most famous graduates and was likely to still have strong ties to the academy. She wouldn’t be surprised if Saitou-sensei coached him in high school.

Well, this turned out better than Yua expected. Without a second thought, she pulled on Rui’s hand, intent on marching over to introduce them— but stopped when his grip tightened, almost painfully, around her fingers. Surprised, she looked back at him. His eyes darted between her and Ushijima-san a few times before he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. When he tugged on her coat sleeve with his other hand, she finally understood.

Oh.

She stood in front of him and took both his hands in hers. “Hey,” she called out. Her voice was soft. When Rui’s gaze settled back on her, she thumbed his chin gently and smiled.

Yua was used to interacting and meeting with different people every day because of her job. They were usually CEOs and other higher-ups in various companies; she was seldom intimidated by titles or merits. But a moment ago, she was in planning mode and completely forgot to consider Rui’s feelings. He was about to meet someone he admired, after all.

“Wanna meet him?”

“W-what?” Her nephew sputtered. “Meet U-ushijima-sensei? I don’t know…” She could feel his flight response rising fast, so she squeezed his hands, hoping to act as an anchor while she talked him through her plan.

Yua nodded. Rui was logical like her, so she was going to lay out all the pros and cons for him. “Think about it. He’s here early, which means he’s the either the coach or the assistant coach.” Rui opened his mouth to protest but fell silent when he realized the truth of her words. “You’ll have to talk to him sooner or later. Why not sooner?”

Rui looked over at Ushijima-sensei again. He desperately wanted to meet him, but he didn’t know what to say. It sounded a lot easier in his head. He didn’t want to come off as a clingy and annoying fan. “I-I don’t know,” he repeated. “I don’t wanna bother him.”

Yua squeezed his hands again. She understood where he was coming from. He was probably thinking that Ushijima-san would reject him somehow. Sure, it was always a possibility, but Yua wouldn’t let that happen. “Sweetheart, I understand how you feel. It is scary meeting someone you look up to, but I’m sure you won’t be bothering him. He’ll be expecting you to ask a lot of questions. He’s here to teach you, remember?”

Rui rocked back and forth on his feet. He knew everything Yua-chan said was true, but he was still nervous. What if Ushijima-sensei said he wasn’t good at volleyball? And that he should stop playing? The man on the other side of the gym played on one of the top teams in the V.League and was skilled at every aspect of the game; why would he take the time to work with someone like him?

Rui didn’t think he could handle that kind of rejection.

“Hey.” Yua’s steady voice snapped him out of his terrible thoughts again. “Ushijima-san’s at the top of the V.League now, but he was just like you at one point—a thirteen-year-old who loves volleyball.”

Rui perked slightly at her words. “Y-you think so?”

Yua nodded strongly. “He loved volleyball enough to make it his full-time job. And I know because Tak-kun was just like you, too. Now he’s playing for Waseda.” She looked back and pointed at the man Rui was so anxious to meet and avoid all at once. “But one day soon, he’s gonna be just like Ushijima-san; playing in the V.League and loving every second of it.”

Her nephew’s eyes widened as he realized that he shared something in common with his idol. Just like me, his face expressed.

Yua tried to hide her grin when she saw determination return to Rui’s eyes. Meeting his idol was probably the last thing he thought he was going to do today, but there was no way she was going to let him pass up the opportunity to train with a player like Ushijima. She was proud of him. Despite being a bit nervous, he still trusted her to guide him through an unfamiliar situation. She looked at him one more time, and he returned her gaze with less apprehension.

“Yua-chan, I-I still don’t know what to say to him.”

“How about I take care of the introductions?” She offered. He nodded furiously in response. “Then I’ll give you the cue to come in and say you’re a big fan, and that you’ve admired his skills since you were little. How’s that?” Rui nodded again, this time committing her advice to memory. She gave his arms a light shake and chuckled when he looked down at her. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

Rui smiled; his notorious twin dimples making their appearance. “Let’s go.”

~

Wakatoshi felt at ease as soon as he stepped onto the Shiratorizawa campus, but he was truly at home when he walked into the gym. He told himself to set the net up first but couldn’t resist when he saw the Mikasa balls piled in the hammock. After all, he did tell sensei that he was going to warm up before practice started.

He started with a drill where he passed to himself fifty times and repeated the process two more times. Then, he alternated short and high passes to himself two hundred times. After that, he did passes against the wall about three hundred times. He usually did about six hundred reps, but he decided to go easy on himself since he hadn’t played in a month.

Once that was done, he decided to start a wall spikes drill; his favourite. By the time he was on his twentieth rep, he was breathing hard, but he didn’t feel heavy like he did on his jog the other morning. It was peaceful. Everything was familiar. The weightlessness of the ball just before his heavy swing sent it flying to the wall. The double THUD of the ball bouncing before it floated back to him. And the satisfaction of timing his next swing exactly right.

Wakatoshi knew there were a lot of things he couldn’t control. But training like this was a way for him to let go and not worry too much about the details. In hindsight, he really shouldn’t have stayed away for this long, but there was no point in—

Suddenly, a hand shot out in front of him from the right. It was accompanied by, “Sumimasen!”

Wakatoshi caught the ball easily as it bounced back to him. Strange. He wasn’t expecting anyone to show up for another hour. When he turned, all his mind could register was:

B R I G H T

After a moment, he blinked at woman standing before him. Like most of the women he knew, she didn’t come close to challenging his height of six-foot-three, despite being taller than average. However, something was different about her. The top of her head barely reached his collarbones, but the energy he felt coming from her was powerful and almost irresistible.

Their eyes locked.

Her honey-brown gaze was warm and strong, as if they were constantly focused on accomplishing a goal. It reminded him of the intense, singular stare Hinata gave him when they met. Normally, Wakatoshi was the one who caused people to feel uneasy with his candor. Who was she? Unaware of the turmoil stirring within him, she smiled. It affirmed his first impression of her. She was indeed bright. Even white teeth and twin dimples only added to her appeal.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but are you one of the coaches?”

Her voice was smooth, low, and Wakatoshi decided that he enjoyed its cadence. He allowed his eyes to wander over her briefly. Early spring in Sendai was still brisk, hence her choice to don a long, soft gray overcoat. When his gaze drifted back up, he finally noticed the expansive collection of freckles on her square-shaped face. Half of her wavy black hair was pinned expertly in a bun at the top of her head, with the rest falling past her shoulders, softening her defined jaw. Arching brows framed her warm eyes. And full, expressive lips were curved into a kind smile.

Remembering that it was rude to stare, Wakatoshi cleared his throat and finally answered. “I am. The assistant coach is sick, so I’ll be helping Saitou-sensei with practice today.” There was that disarming smile again. He couldn’t help but lift the corners of his own mouth in response.

“My name is Yua. It’s nice to meet you.” She bowed to him in greeting. “And this is my nephew, Rui. He’s one of your students.” Pride was clear in Yua-san’s voice. She loved the boy deeply. She reached for the tall teen to her left, who shuffled over before looking up at him. Hesitation was evident on his face.

Despite the young man’s nervousness, Wakatoshi could tell that he was serious about volleyball. The fact he was here an hour before practice spoke volumes about his work ethic. Sensei also had a knack for scouting talented players; the dark red Chidoriyama tracksuit he wore was another promising sign of his skill.

Yua. He doubted he’d forget her name any time soon. He bowed in response. “I’m Wakatoshi.”

Her eyes twinkled with delight. “The Ushijima Wakatoshi? The Adlers’ Left Cannon?”

Wakatoshi felt his ears grow hot and he resisted fought the urge to rub the back of his neck; his habit when he was embarrassed. Despite all his success in the last several years, he still wasn’t used to being recognized. He often wondered how Romero-san managed to deal with the constant attention. He was always relaxed and attentive during interviews or whenever fans swarmed him.

“That’s right.”

“I knew you seemed familiar,” she said, while returning his perusal. He found himself wondering what assumptions she had just made about him. “Rui-kun recognized you right away.” The young man tensed at the sound of his name, but she remained steady at his side.

Wakatoshi surmised that he was nervous about meeting him; a reaction he was used to. But he wanted to change that. He wasn’t charismatic like Romero-san, but surely there was something he could do that would make Rui-kun feel at ease. Unsure about what to say, he continued to address Yua.

“Were you a student at Shiratorizawa?”

No. It would be difficult to forget someone with her presence.

Yua shook her head. “No, but my younger brother was. He dragged me to a couple of your games while he was in middle school.” She smiled again, remembering how excited Tak-kun got every time Ushijima-san went up for a spike. “He’s always complaining because he never got to play on the same team as you.”

“Does he still play?” Wakatoshi was always curious about the talent that came from the academy.

“Tak-kun’s a middle blocker at Waseda. He’s aiming for the V.League in a few years because he wants battle scary wing spikers like you.” Her smile held a challenge this time and his curiosity was piqued. He was never one to back down from a strong opponent.

“But Rui-kun here is a fan of yours.” Yua’s voice softened, and the young man finally mustered the courage to look at him. A gentle nudge from his aunt was all the encouragement he needed.

He stepped forward and bowed. “H-hello Ushijima-sensei, I’m Rui. I-I’ve thought you were a great player ever since I was little.”

It would take time for Wakatoshi to get used to hearing that. “Thank you, Rui-kun. It’s nice to meet you.” He was constantly learning and adapting his current skills, so Wakatoshi still considered himself a student. “What position do you play?”

Rui-kun looked back at Yua, and she smiled gently and gave him a reassuring nod. “W-wing spiker. Hayate-sensei said I’m an outside because I’m right-handed.”

Wakatoshi nodded in approval. He couldn’t wait to see his skills in real time. “Then you’re like Romero-san.”

The teen’s eyes lit up, and the tension in his body was replaced instantly by excitement. “Nicollas Romero? Really?? He’s so cool.” His words came out in a rushed breath, and Wakatoshi chuckled.

“I agree. I’ll be sure to tell him he’s got another big fan.” He was relieved that Rui-kun’s energy changed at something he said. He hadn’t interacted too much with younger fans other than signing autographs and occasionally posing for pictures, but he seemed to be doing all right for the moment.

Rui barely stopped himself from jumping up and down. “You will?? Can you tell Houshiumi-san that he’s amazing, too?? I’ve never seen anyone jump so high! Except for Ninja Shoyo!”

Yua’s smile became bigger as Rui-kun’s excitement grew. That was one of the things she loved about him. He was so passionate about his interests that you couldn’t help being swept up in his positive energy. He didn’t realize it now, but that passion would serve him well as player and eventual captain. He was the type of person teammates would naturally rally behind and support without question.

“I was cheering for you and the Adlers the whole time!”

Wakatoshi smiled. “I think I heard your cheering all the way in Tokyo.” Sometimes, he forgot that people from all over Japan and the world watched his games.

Rui-kun suddenly looked down and clasped his hands together. He looked like he was at odds about what he about to say next. So, his voice was quiet when he spoke. “Uhm, I’m sorry you didn’t win the championship this year. The game was still amazing to watch.”

Wakatoshi was moved by his kind words. As young as he was, Rui-kun understood what it was like to lose even though you put everything you have into it. “Thank you,” he murmured. “The loss was hard for all of us.”

“Were you upset?” Rui-kun’s light brown eyes were full of sympathy. He was genuinely upset that the Adlers has lost such an important game. “I’m always get upset when lose.”

Wakatoshi considered his next words very carefully. Somehow, he knew his answer would have a huge effect on this young man’s life as a player and as an individual. He was beginning to understand how Romero-san dealt with press and fans so well. Like the players he looked up to and aspired to be when he was younger, Wakatoshi’s current position in the V.League enabled him to inspire the next generation of players, which included Rui-kun.

“I was upset for a few weeks,” he started. That was an understatement. “But losing isn’t a bad thing. It hurts, yes, but you can always learn something from it.”

Rui-kun’s eyes had grown owlishly wide; he was hanging onto his every word. “Like what?”

Wakatoshi squatted down in front of the boy, who’s mouth gaped open at the action. “Everyone loses at some point,” he murmured. “Even me. But losing makes you want to work even harder so you can do your best to win next time. The good thing about volleyball is that you’re never alone. You can always lean on your team and coaches for support.” His eyes shifted up to Yua briefly, who was watching him just as intently as her nephew. “Family, too.” He heard her breath hitched quietly at his admission.

“I-I’ve never thought of it that way,” Rui swallowed. “Now that I think about it, me and my team are really close.”

Wakatoshi nodded and grinned. “Good. That bond will make it easier for you to work through challenges together.”

Rui-kun’s wide smile returned. It looked like dimples were a family trait. “We get into fights sometimes, but it’s still fun!”

Wakatoshi stood up. “That’s normal for every team. Fighting is a good way to communicate sometimes.” Teams fought, just like any family would. At the end of the day, a common goal had to be reached and the road wasn’t always going to be smooth.

But working towards that goal was half the fun.

“Uhm, Ushjima-sensei? I was gonna warm up with Yua-chan but I-I was hoping y-you could…” The shyness had returned to Rui-kun’s voice, but Wakatoshi knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

“Would you like to pepper with me? We still have time before the net has to be set up.” The expression on Rui-kun’s face was priceless. He didn’t think his smile could get any bigger. Not bad for his first time as a coach.

Yua-san waved her hand. “I can set everything up while you two practice.”

Wakatoshi frowned and shoot his head. “Yua-san, I couldn’t have you do that—”

But she shook her head. Black hair flowed back and forth over her shoulders and Wakatoshi was reduced to staring again. “It’s all right! I interrupted your drill and you’re taking the time to practice with Rui-kun, so setting up the net is the least I can do to thank you.”

Rui-kun interrupted before he could protest. “Will you really pepper with me??”

“Yes,” Wakatoshi chuckled.

“I’ll be right back!” He sprinted to the other side of the gym, presumably to shred his Chidoriyama tracksuit. Saitou-sensei would have his hands full with him.

“Thank you for training with him.” Wakatoshi turned to the woman who orchestrated this impromptu pepper session. “He was so nervous about meeting you.”

“I tend to get that reaction, although it’s not my intent to make anyone nervous.” He rubbed that back of his neck this time. “I’ve been told that I can be intimidating.”

Yua-san tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, giving him another brief study. Wakatoshi felt like he was being dissected. “Only at first glance. I’ve worked with much scarier clients.” He was relieved when she smiled again. “You’re sweet compared to them.”

His brows shot up. “Sweet?” No one had ever described him that way, especially not after meeting him for the first time.

Yua-san laughed at his reaction. It was a full and sweet sound. “Absolutely,” she said confidently. “You made Rui-kun feel comfortable and gave him good advice about dealing with failure. That’s sweet in my book.”

It was Wakatoshi’s turn to gape. For once in his life, he didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m ready, Ushijima-sensei!” The teen was in the middle of the gym and waving him down furiously.

“You’d better get going,” Yua-san teased. “Rui-kun has boundless energy once he gets excited about something.”

Wakatoshi somehow managed to gather his thoughts before responding. She wasn’t shying away from his bluntness like most people did. In fact, she met him head-on right from the start. He found that refreshing, but slightly unnerving. “Please stay until sensei arrives, Yua-san. I’m sure he’d like to meet you.”

The spark from earlier settled into her honey-brown eyes.

“As you wish, Ushijima-sensei.”

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

March 29th

Master List

~~

There’s something spectacular about the last day of any school term. It’s the magic of knowing, the next time you set foot on this campus, you’ll be older. It’s the sadness of saying goodbye to the teacher you used to have and preparing for the ones you’ll have next year. 

Today was different. It was the last day, but this time, you would never be coming back here. Tomorrow night you would graduate, and then you’d be off, off in the world being adults. So today, the seniors were given the chance to just vibe, wander the campus, reminisce as they prepared themselves for the following day. 

“Hey, Y/n, remember this?” Jeongin giggles, pointing to a chunk of the wooden bench that had been knocked off. 

“I’m late, I’m late” You were gasping for air, dodging around other students, trying to get to the main office. You weren’t doing any parkour or anything, but you were bouncing off benches and sprinting along curbs. “Excuse me!” You called, brushing past a large group of men. You boosted yourself on the wooden bench next to them, but just before you could jump off the end, there was a loud crack and you were suddenly falling. As if in slow motion you turned, aiming to land on your back, but you never hit the ground.

You were in someone’s arms, staring up at a very cute boy who had stopped you from crashing onto the ground. He offered you a grin, carefully setting your feet back on the ground. 

“Are you okay?” You nod quickly, picking up the lunch box you had dropped. 

“I’m sorry, thank you. I have to go.” You turned to begin sprinting away. 

“His name’s Jeongin.” Someone called, and you turned back slightly to offer him a smile. 

“Thank you Jeongin, I’m Y/n” 

“Of course I remember breaking this stupid bench.” You huff, kicking the old seat. “Freshman year, I was late for my doctor’s appointment.” 

“Hey don’t be mean to the bench, this is where we met. When I heroically saved your life.” He posed for emphasis, foot resting on the bench and hands on his hips. Your face erupted into a grin as giggles escaped you. 

“Ah yes,” You began, pressing a dramatic hand to your forehead, “My hero.” You collapsed backward, falling towards him, and weren’t remotely shocked when he caught you. 

“Jeonginnnie! Y/n!” Someone called. You looked up to find Felix and Jisung jogging towards you. 

“Hey you, finished bothering Mr. Pips?” You greet, standing up straight, with Jeongin’s arms still around you. 

“Sadly, he’s got a meeting, had to run off before Jisung could declare his love.” Felix teased. 

“So what are you two doing?” Jisung pouts, dropping onto the bench. “Hey isn’t this the bench you broke?” You nod, kinda proud. 

“Yeah. We were just talking about that.” 

“My favorite thing you two have ever done was the escape on prom night junior year.” Felix recalls, sitting on the back of the bench. 

“This is straight-up lame.” You groaned, picking at the flowery lace on the edge of your dress. Your shoulders were cold, your legs were cold, and your feet hurt from these stupid shoes. Jeongin seemed just as bored sitting next to you, and Felix was sitting with Hyunjin and Jisung a few tables away. Seungmin was nowhere to be found but something told you he was at the snack table loading his pockets. 

“The music here sucks,” Jeongin whined, peeling off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. “We should leave.” 

“They’d never let us go, didn’t you hear? Everyone has to have their parents pick them up, cause of the murder last week.” You sigh, “Stupid rule. It’s not like the killer’s going after high schoolers.” 

“What if we snuck out?” Jeongin offered, pointing to a darkened section of a fence where no one was watching. “Hyunjin’s car is right over there, past the fence.” 

“But then we’d have to get Hyunjin to sneak out with us.” You reasoned. “And get me over the fence in heels and a skirt.” 

“We take the shoes off, and when you get to the top, I’ll be the only one on the other side to catch you.” 

“And then once we’re all over we sprint to Jinnie’s car.” He nods at the plan. “Where are we gonna go though? Our parents aren’t expecting us home till just past 2 am.”

“Let’s go to Chan’s” Seungmin’s voice made you jump, and you turned to find him on the other side of the table. “I was eavesdropping, cookie?” He pulled a bag from his coat pocket, offering you one. 

“No thanks, do you think Chan will let us come over?” 

“I was already going, he was gonna pretend to be my dad and come get me at midnight.” He shrugged.

“Alright.” Jeongin nods, “Let's get those three in on it.” 

Less than twenty minutes later and you found yourself perched on the top of the fence, waiting for Jeongin to give you the clear to jump down. 

“Alright babe, come on.” 

“You sure?”

“Now’s not the time, Y/n, Hurry.” Hyunjin huffs, jiggling the fence slightly.

“Shut up, Hyunjin.” Felix hisses. 

“No worries babe, I’ve got you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, and swing your other leg over the top, before dropping down.

“I was surprised you actually caught me.” You giggle, all of you laughing at the memory. “Weird to think no one heard us, we weren’t quiet.” 

“I’m pretty sure Seungmin bribed the security guards.” Felix reasons. 

“Who did I bribe?” Seungmin’s voice makes you jump, finding him walking towards you looking like a runway model. 

“Why are you dressed like you just walked out of a catalog, I thought we still had to wear our uniforms today?” Jisung wonders, tugging on Seungmin’s beige trench coat.

“I did just walk out of a catalog, dad had me doing a photoshoot, I wanted to clean out my locker before school ended for the day. Now answer my question.”

“The security guards at Junior prom, when we snuck out.” You answered, stepping away from Jeongin, “Hey we should probably all go clean out our lockers.” You realized, grabbing Jeongin’s hand. “Come on you two, lord knows Felix needs extra time to clean up his disaster.”

“Hey, it's not that bad.” He cries, jumping off the bench. “I’ve just got some extra papers.” 

“Yeah okay.” Jisung scoffs, “You kept every paper from this semester. It’s like a tornado in there.”

“Your’s isn’t much better, Jisungie.” You tease, trailing your hand over the lockers as you walk down the hall. 

“Speaking of absolute messes, where’s Hyunjin?” Seungmin asks, glancing up and down the mostly empty halls.

“Who knows, probably making out with someone in a bathroom.” Felix laughs, “I know I saw him walk into the science wing with some girl earlier.” “You’re so mean to him. Let him live his hoe life.” You defend your friend. A locker in front of you bursts open, making you shriek and jump back, partially falling on Jeongin as Hyunjin bursts out of the compartment.

“Exactly, let me live.” He cries, bursting into laughter at his scared friends. You were practically in Jeongin’s arms, and Jisung was on the floor staring up at his friend. 

“You’re a monster.” He gasps, trying to calm his breathing.

“It was so funny, you should have seen your faces.” Hyunjin cackles, earning a slap on the arm from Seungmin. “Oh my gosh, where’d Felix go?”

“Hey,” Jeongin whispers, “We gotta stop meeting like this.” He jokes as you detach yourself from him. 

“What can I say, I keep falling for you.” You tease back, kissing his cheek as he blushes. 

“With any luck, I’ll always be there to catch you.” He flirts back, making you giggle. 

“I found him!” Jisung shouts, and you look over to find him pointing up at Felix, who had somehow managed to climb onto the lockers in fear. 

“Something tells me that this isn’t the end of these idiots antics.” You sigh. 

“Hey, at least we have each other.” Jeongin grins, nudging your shoulder. 

“Thank god for that.” You grin back, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Otherwise I’d go crazy.” 

“I’m already crazy.” Jeongin begins, resting a hand on your cheek as he pulled you closer, “Crazy for you.” 

You were too focused on Jeongin’s gentle kiss to register the groans from the boys as they echoed down the hall.

[9uk]

Let Me Stay Close To You : part 3

⌲ summary : you were finally free from the worst nightmare of your life in high school. the doors of college welcomed you with open arms, you were set on living your best life in here, away from the toxicity back at home. that shimmer of hope in restoring your life, was somehow effortlessly crushed by a tap on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

⌲ pairing : bully!jungkook x reader

⌲ word count : 4.7k

⌲ genre : angst, pinch of fluff

⌲ warnings : battling of demons and mild suggestive terms, mentions of torture, other than that enjoy.

⌲ a/n : hehe hope you guys enjoy this, it’s kinda draggy for me (i feel) but it plays a huge role to character development. thank you all for patiently waiting, & like always, feedback is more than welcomed ;>

part two  >  part three  >  part four

“So,” She props her elbows on the countertop and begins, raising her cheeky brows and lips curling up in mischief. You aimlessly scroll through your dusty twitter feed, nothing in particular that lures your undivided attention to it.

Tossing your phone onto the couch, you grab to hug a pillow as you switch on the television instead, and absent-mindedly wait for your roommate to finish her sentence.

Sooyoung, however, has quickly spun around with her back facing you, placing all attention on the pot of boiling soup on the stove without a word—pretending that she never said a word in the first place.

Brows furrowed in confusion, you thought you could be aid to remind her of where she left off just a few seconds ago.

“Um, carry on..?” You shift your gaze back to the television, heading for Brooklyn 99 instinctively and almost immediately, heart craving for a series of laughing fits.

You might be too stressed out ever since the beginning of the term—today being your first day of classes—and it just couldn’t turn out any better with the unridable stench of Jeon Jungkook.

A small scream breaks into your ears and—

“Goddammit Y/N! Can’t you see that I’m trying to salvage this pumpkin soup right here?”

The loudness of her voice makes you jump, her words of despair shattering the quietness of the entire room apart.

Sooyoung looks like she is about to rip off all the hair on her head in pure frustration—with a smell akin to a burnt pumpkin soup diffuses into the living room and into your nostrils.

Oh no.

“Oh my god, hurry turn the stove off!” And the sight before you is a major trigger to your anal retention: your poor friend bends to look at the gas knob, hair almost catching on fire, hot soup on the ladle she’s holding dripping onto her wrists and the orange liquid in the pot bubbling violently, threatening to spill onto the kitchen floor—which you had just responsibly mopped earlier in the morning—at any given moment.

In sheer luck, she manages to put the life-threatening, disastrous situation under control—hand coming out to switch the stove fire off, everything settling into a silent aftermath of a warzone.

Both of your fearful and panicky states dissolve into a huge sigh of relief as the pumpkin soup retreats back to safe home— amused chuckles of disbelief erupting from the two of you.

“On the bright side, this serves as a gentle reminder for you to not ever try make soup again.” You raise your brows at her with arms crossed.

“And that I didn’t burn down the kitchen.” Sooyoung adds, smiling gleefully. You can’t believe she’s real.

“You had something to say to me?” You inquire again, blowing onto the soup that was quite surprisingly, not half bad after all the hassle.

Sooyoung narrows her eyes hard, at the bowl of pumpkin soup, trying her best to recollect her intentions of speaking just a while ago.

“Ah!” She points a finger in the air when she manages to hook onto that piece of memory floating away.

“What were you doing with Jeon Jungkook during the party yesterday?”

The question drops onto your tense body like an atomic bomb.Your hand freezes, soup dripping from the spoon back into the ceramic bowl. You open your mouth to answer Sooyoung, but how exactly were you supposed to explain that?

“Erm...” It was all you could manage while you figure out the best way to articulate your relationship with Jungkook to her.

Where should you start?

“Well..” Sooyoung leans foward on the countertop in unnecessary anticipation, looking at you with sparkly expectant eyes.

From the day you made him fall face flat to the ground?

“You see...” You drag for as long as you could, not so sure how to put it, at least in the most decent manner possible.

The thing between you and Jungkook—if it’s not obvious enough already—is a bully and a victim. There’s nothing worth bragging about that relationship.

And no, you’re definitely not trying to victimise yourself or anything of the sort. It’s a fact as clear as day that you have accepted long  ago. Or too used to belonging to the title ‘victim’ in this whole bullying situation. There’s also nothing much you can do honestly. You were destined to live life this way, having a father who has a financial fraud vandalised on his records forever, a mother who wakes up before the sun does to brew coffee for the people setting off to work— making the child of aforementioned people inferior to the child whose parents own one of the top three largest companies in the entertainment market.

You were inferior to Jeon Jungkook.

Power and money-oriented society, remember?

Something between a scoff of resentment and an unamused chuckle leaves your lips to the thought of the awful past life you have finally abandoned (sort of). But Sooyoung seems to lack the ability to interpret your tone well, eyes lighting up at the sight of your teeth.

“No way, don’t tell me you guys left the party to make out at the front porch.” She gasps in shock, eyes widening and hand flying up to cover her mouth.

No way.

You immediately deny her absolutely outrageous and almost laughable guess.

“What? No! We were just-“

Suddenly, the memories of his calloused nail-bitten fingers and soft palm on the side of your face aggressively fights to replace every brain cell that you have, causing all the pores on your skin to vibrate as you quiver at the feeling. It almost seems like it was a mere hallucination of your drunken state of mind, not until Sooyoung brings it up again in your face to remind you that it was real. It did happen. Jungkook had caressed you.

“just…” Your voice drifts off, the electricity of pretence flowing through the tiny tangled wires in your head, smoothly making their way to light up the bulb in your mind. “..talking!”

You already feel bad for lying to her.

“About making out?” Sooyoung is not one to concede defeat to your lame, clearly-made-up excuse, the picture of you and Jungkook sucking off each other’s faces sticking onto her suspicions like gum on the bottom of a shoe. The direction of her imagination is going polar opposites from your initial fear of the revelation of your devastating past—to which you softly sigh in relief to.

“About whatever you think of, detective.” You try to lighten the mood, sending a cheeky wink her way and escaping the conversation—the perfect resolution to avoid spilling the truth and fabricating more lies.

She scorns at your open answer, leaving her only to imagination to take control of her doubts out in the air, wandering freely as she sulkily stirs at her soup.

You giggle at the cute pout beginning to form on her scarlet lips and slowly drain the warm pumpkin delight from the bowl into your stomach.

You would tell this kind and lovely lady about everything—from something as simple how a Corgi barked and wagged its tail at you while on the way to campus, to your deep inner conflicts between your passion and confidence and the dire situation of your family, and how you’d really missed the way things were when you were still in pigtails playing with doll—but not the major happening in your history. 

The story of the scar on the left side of your temple was something you had never want to dig up and elaborate on to your friends. Once they have a whiff of your pitiful side, those eyes that currently look at you with admiration and adoration will very quickly turn into unwanted sympathy and abomination—and your pals will gradually drift away from your side, knowing that they can do so much better than having a true loser stick around.

So you would never disclose the truth between you and Jungkook to her. You could never do that.

Nothing felt more suffocating than standing outside an extravagant yet simple looking bungalow. The darkness of the sky cannot further accentuate the black matte walls of the exterior of this home. The hazy moonlight shines on the stagnant turquoise pool, topped off with the stationary shrubs along the perimeter of this whole compound, flaunting the estate’s overall tranquility. This house looked like it belonged to some clean freak who never steps foot in or out of it through the front door and owns about eleven Dobermans. If you were a passerby, you would have never guessed it belongs to a boy currently studying in college. You clasp your hands together, fingers locking onto one another —a little too tightly— for emotional support and courage.

His fingers lift the heavy material with ease, as he watches you through the gaps of his curtains from his bedroom. 

You were about five minutes away from meeting Jungkook. Alone in a room most likely. As the number of steps you take increases, with an angry-looking security guard escorting you on your way, you can feel your heart hammering hard against your poor ribs, teetering on the edge of rupturing out of your chest there and then.

Finally, in no less than a blink of an eye, you were in the chilly immaculate bedroom with Jungkook. You aren’t even exaggerating when you say that the man in black had practically threw you in like a fresh piece of meat flung into a lion’s den—waiting to be ferociously devoured by the beast himself. At least, that was how you felt.

The slamming of the grand double doors echoed through the room and you scan your surroundings.

 Why were you even in his bedroom?

 Did that mean he doesn’t even have a study room in this uselessly big house? 

Your eyes fall onto a small desk at the corner of the room. Yep, the both of you were going to work on that.

 Finally, they fall onto the main subject of this room, standing at the window, gazing out to the night sky. You stared longer than you wished, no that you can help it because—he looked so innocent and normal like that, watching the stars and moon quietly in appreciation. 

Your breath hitched when Jungkook suddenly turns around to face you. Releasing the curtain from his hand, they flowed close again, effectively blocking out the the pitch-black sky. He looked you in the eye, before his lips curl up into an amused grin. 

You are mirroring his emotion as well—that you’re actually alone in his room for no other reason than a homework assignment—but the limelight of amusement is stolen by the overpowering terror and anxiety. Jungkook could quite literally kill you and feed your body parts to his dogs—if he even owned one, but that isn’t the main point. The main point is that he could do anything he want to you right here and right now and his guard, instead of helping you, would probably help Jungkook lock the doors. He could easily tie you up and use you as a sex slave or hold you captive in this plain bedroom, abusing you as and when he liked.

 You hate yourself for coming, but you knew that worse could happen if you hadn’t obeyed. You feel a trace of ease when you are reminded that now, you have actual friends who would call the cops upon the realisation of your disappearance.

Stay calm and stop overthinking, gosh.

Avoiding his gaze, you begin fishing out the worksheets and your laptop from your backpack. “We should start on it-“

“No, no, no,” He waves his hand in disagreement and walks over to you. His long legs bring him across the wooden floor swiftly reaching you within a second. 

And subconsciously, your hand movements halt as you retreat a step back. 

“Before we start on that useless assignment,” You narrow your eyes fiercely at him, putting up a brave front. He exhales, “I think you have the answers to the many questions in my head right now.” 

Stunned, your eyes hastily search the white walls of the room for answers. You visited his house for nothing else but one cause—and that is to finish the planning on the whole anatomy project, leave in one piece and hopefully never to come back ever again. You weren’t here for an unwanted session of questioning—and you weren’t about to give him the answers that he wanted. You will not allow him to have you at the tip of his fingers again, for you have become a strong, firm and fearless women. Whether he had plans to slaughter the fuck out of you here, is now placed in the back of your mind for a moment.

Seeing as to how petrified you look—your whole face going pale as paper, Jungkook feels as if he’s some kind of monster to you. 

Maybe he was, but he most definitely isn’t now. 

He purely just wants you to answer a few questions of his before the both of you can start on the project—which is why he was rather confused at why you seemed so afraid of him. 

You were never like this, even when he mistreated you and committed those unscrupulous acts on you, you would show zero emotions, to only ignore him and see his entire existence as irrelevant—so why were you look so scared now that he was standing so close to you?  

Nonetheless, Jungkook wants his question marks to be depleted.

“First of all-“

“No.”

Shut. Him. Out.

“We either sit down and start the planning, or I’m leaving.”

You feel a gush of confidence breeze past you, your heart hardening and a side of you never known before appearing. Wow, did you really just stood your firm to Jeon Jungkook, the guy who bullied you for the past 4 years? A heavenly warmth of pride runs through your blood.

Jungkook is momentarily perplexed, mouth halfway open as the remaining words are stuck to his throat. He gulps and blinks repeatedly, absorbing what you had just said in disbelief—that you’ve noticed.

Call it a bipolar disorder, because you too, have no idea how your pyroclastic flow of nerves transformed into a solid indestructible mountain of rock in a snap. It was either you were too determined to protect the life you have now, or that you’re beginning to catch the smear of vulnerability in his eyes. You really have no clue.

With a tilt of his head to the side—a habit he hasn’t got rid of since highscool, be it from confusion, rage or happiness—he mumurs an approval. “E-Erm, okay.”

Success.

Parallel universe, indeed.

Nothing is going through his head right now—not as you speak and point to the various ideas you have come up with for this homework, not as you explain which idea is the best and start listing the pros and cons of it, not as you ask him to do the mindmap for the planning.

You notice that you’re speaking tons of words more than talkative, nonsensical-blabbering Jeon Jungkook, and he was being unusually quiet. Maybe he was thinking of ways on how he was going to torture you later on. True or not, you wanted a high grade on this assignment.

Be professional, the rational side of your brain puts your drifting thoughts back on track.

“Hello. Are you there.” You slap a hand so close to his face right infront of his big doe eyes, and he doesn’t even blink. He’s staring so hard at the crotch of the human body diagram you printed—probably doing it unintentionally amidst busy building sandcastles in the air—and you try not to laugh at the sight of him doing that.

“Jungkook!” You finally decide to yell in his ears and he flinches away hard, flying up from his seat.

“What! I’m right here!” He shouts back in the retaliation of being shocked, rubbing his earhole and you irresistibly laugh at his reaction.

Wait what, you laughed at Jungkook? 

This felt so…strange, yet it is a very typical interaction between two friends. Maybe that is why, solely because it is a normal conversation between the both of you—a duo that have never experienced an ordinary interaction before, other than the occasional rubber band shots and verbal attacking of your outer appearance.

Hold up, did you just say friends? Impossible.

Your bright and smiley face falls into a blank expression at the sudden realisation faster than a flash. Jungkook’s face mirrors the falling of yours too, but his features drains from something a bit more—something like actual fondness— to scepticism and worry.

Clearing your throat, you turn to face the splayed out papers on the table.

“Let’s um, start on what we’re supposed to do.”

Jungkook slowly, warily sits back down to join you, staring at the laptop screen, lost.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Namjoon would have seriously made a better project partner. Now you would have to repeat your instructions, something that you hated.

Sighing in complete impatience, you start from the top again.

“Of course you’re right here.”

Silence.

It blankets the both of you squeezing two chairs into the desk made for one, quietly doing your individual parts in utmost concentration. Add on his vigorous smashing of the keyboard and the rough flipping of the pages of the handout (because you can’t wait to get out of here.)

It wasn’t unacceptably uncomfortable, but it wasn’t particularly settling and peaceful as well. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable—when the undesirable memories of the past sporadically appears in each other’s minds—one’s heart filled with guilt and the other filled with ache. 

Up to you to figure which is who.

You are extremely thankful for how complexed and meticulous the planning of the project is, allowing the both of you to fully immerse in doing the annoying details well and answering the challenging questions.

It is also silent because—none of you had dare speak to each other unless it was involving the task at hand.

The clock ticked to ten and with the shut of both laptops and the zipping of your pencil case, the papers gathered in a neat rectangle stack_it was time to face reality again.

Jungkook breaks the silence first.

“Can I ask my questions now?”

It was weird. The way Jungkook was asking for your permission to do something as simple as firing the burning questions in his mind. If you were him, you would not even be able to stay one bit focused on the mindmap creation, only able to ponder about how the girl beside him had changed into someone…so different.

It was weird because you weren’t used to Jungkook speaking nicely (normally) to you. There was an absence of irritation and danger in the tone of his voice, which made his words seem too kind to be true. It never fails to send you into a stupor when a swear word is missing from his sentence to you. Maybe, for the better or worse, in the fleet of eight months, Jungkook has changed. Maybe, and just maybe, it was time to view him in a different light.

“Yeah, you can.” You easily give him consent.

“Okay first question, why were you sitting next to Namjoon in anatomy lecture?”

Was that really all he had wanted to ask?

You shoot him a look of bewilderment. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely did not include who you sat with in lecture.

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“What-“

“You do know that he is a pervert that goes after girls whenever there’s a chance right?” Jungkook warns you, and you are at a loss for words.

Namjoon wasn’t someone like that, and you strongly believe the impression you have of him.

“Listen, he’s actually a really nice guy okay?” You counterattack his assumption. Jungkook rolls his eyes in disbelief, scoffing as you speak.

“That’s what everyone says.”

You actually felt like believing him. Jungkook is effectively inserting doubts about Namjoon into your head, and you’re actually starting to question the guy Namjoon really was. Did you not know him well enough? Was the low self-esteem just a plain act?

No, you have no reason to trust Jungkook—who was capable of manipulation and you were one to know best about this.

He seems to be able to sense the distrust from you to his claim, but what he said was true. You weren’t the first girl Namjoon has tried approaching. But you were the first to accept him.

“It’s really up to you whether to heed my advice or not—which is to stay away from a guy like that,” Jungkook puts his hands up in surrender, “but I’m just giving you a heads up, lest you fall into his trap of feelings or get taken advantage of... you know.”

Blinking, you take ten seconds to administrate what he told you into your  mind. For what exactly, was Jungkook being so kind towards you for?

You don’t have the answers to that, you think it is because he only wants you to himself to bully—and not share that privilege with Namjoon.

“I just..hope you don’t get hurt, again.”

And then once more, you were wrong about him.

The word ‘again’ reminds you of how bad he had hurt you physically, and emotionally, placed humiliation above your name and put you down to rock bottom. Everyday you would emotionlessly stare at yourself in the mirror and see a girl full of flaws and insecurities. A girl so unhappy and afraid to do anything she truly liked and follow her dreams. A girl who built up in four high walls around herself and not let anyone in, scared to feel the pain of losing someone again. A girl who was so, so tired of living. The undeserved death of your late bestfriend demolished the happiness in your soul, and Jungkook further crushed all its shattered fragments into fine dust—which made you become that girl.

However, the Jungkook you knew all those years back was gone—that you’re still trying to register—and he had changed. Not his face, which was still the same old handsome Jungkook back in highschool, but his heart had turned into something like pure gold. 

It may not be every part of him, but one thing you were sure as of right now, was that Jungkook had a kind side to him that was just never shown to you before. For all you know, he may have grown well from that immature brat in the past and became someone who’s trying to repent from his mistakes.

“Um, sure..” You’re not sure how to respond to such words coming out of his mouth—were you supposed to say thank you ?

Jungkook hesitates for a split second, before shooting the next question.

“Second thing, why did you act like you didn’t know me at the party?”

The thing is, did you really know him though?

It was harmless to attempt to keep him out of your life. It was also harmless to not have Jeon Jungkook in your happy new life.

“I’m not answering that.” You strictly follow the initial plan and Jungkook doesn’t seem too pleased at your answer.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna answer me?” He steps closer and the gap between your faces shrunk so much, that you can feel the fanning of his breath on your cheeks. He was riled up, threatening tone rebirthing and fury dripping in his eyes. Jungkook cocks a brow up, challenging your stand. 

This was the Jungkook you knew.

 He is a breath away from grabbing the collar of your shirt and slamming you against the wall and you flutter your eyes shut and squirm away from his menacing form. Witnessing how you switched into someone so fearful of him, he lets out a groan of disappointment.

Instead, all you hear next is the string of curses coming out of his mouth and you slowly open your eyes to see him running his fingers through his thick hair and pulling harshly at it in frustration.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit-fuck!”

It was like, he was trying to stop himself.

As he slapped himself back to the better of his senses, you realised that everyone had their own demons in their head. And Jungkook was no exception. At that moment, you felt pity for the guy who stood before you battling his detestable old self. His demons were overpowering, and just when you thought Jungkook excelled in manipulation, you thought wrong again—it was the demons fucking with his head, and Jungkook didn’t know how to properly deal with them, resulting in outbursts of physical and verbal abuse—the only way Jungkook knew to express his pain. 

What did Jungkook go through, that made him the monster he was?

“I-“ He starts again, cautiously speaking to you this time.

His breaths quickened and he grunts, exasperated at the failure of his words. You keep quiet as you wait for him to settle from the fit with his arms on his hips. Calming down, he turns around and suggests.

“It’s late, let me just send you home, okay?”

He was being so thoughtful for you—something you were still getting used to.

You felt so useless, standing at the side to watch him helplessly fight his inner conflicts—and being the main cause of his struggle.

The fear you felt at first has evaporated at Jungkook’s effort to not hurt you in the slightest way possible. You saw it in his eyes the first time he stroked his finger along your scar and heard it for yourself when he cared for your wellbeing.

It is in fact, time to see him in a different light—a better one.

Jungkook drives you safely to your dorm, a short and quiet journey given that his house is around the area. You wouldn’t have a peace of mind going back to campus alone through the dark alleys and streets—so you were rather grateful for the ride offer.

You mutter a ‘thanks’ before carefully exiting the grey Lamborghini you didn’t dare to cause a tiny scratch on. You speedily walked towards the entrance of your dorm building, before you hear the door of the sports car clicking open, followed by hurried footsteps.

“Wait Y/N!” Jungkook yells out and makes his way towards you.

His footsteps slow down as he reaches your patiently waiting form.

His eyes drop to the road, followed by a tilt of his head. He was nervous.

Scratching the back of his head in strong apprehension, Jungkook forcefully gets rid of all nerves and puts his words into correct place. And it goes way back when he clears his throat, bringing him to the time he faced the mirror and practiced this for a couple of dozen times.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t even have to question what for, because he has a lot to be remorseful and repentant about.

You can tell that it took a lot from him to say these three words, especially for someone who didn’t have to apologise to anyone with all that money and power. He wasn’t obliged to give you an apology. And so, he didn’t have to go through the trouble of apologising to you for what he has done. But here he was, handing you his words of redemption wholeheartedly. You were appreciative of his gesture, but you weren’t so prepared to readily forgive him just then.

“I’ll..see you around?”

Jungkook continues after your silent reply.

“Yup.” You smile assuringly.

And your answer itself sufficed for him.

[darley1101]

Missing Pieces (The Haunting of Braidwood Manor)

Title: Missing Pieces

Book: The Haunting of Braidwood Manner

Character: Hannah/MC with mention of the Waverly family and a few Freshmen characters

Rating: PG-13

Warning/Trigger: Mourning, loss. 

A/N: This goes out to @kennaxval and @strangerofbraidwood . Tags are at the end of the story. If you would like to be added, moved, or removed please let me know. If you enjoyed the story please consider giving it a re-blog so others might enjoy it as well.

Turning up the collar of her cream colored wool coat, Hannah hurried down the crowded sidewalk towards the little flower shop on the corner. It had taken some smooth talking, along with the promise of a glowing online review, but the owner had come through for her. “Be right there,” a frail voice called out when Hannah tumbled into the little shop. A few minutes later a petite elderly woman with owl like eyes and a white top knot appeared from behind a curtain, a smile on her wizened face. “How might I help you?”

“I placed an order for Hannah.” Tucking her lips between her teeth, Hannah waited with baited breathe. 'Please don't have sold my flowers, I know its Valentine's Day and I'm late getting here but those flowers are important,' she thought, her heart constricting at the thought. The recipients wouldn't know whether she brought a single flower or a full dozen each but Hannah would know. She'd made a promise to herself and come hell or high water she would honor it.

“Ah yes!” The elfin lady's face lit up. “Five dozen red roses. I have them in the back.” Without another word, she ducked behind the curtain. Moments later she returned, five beautifully arranged bouquets carefully set upright in a wooden crate. “Thought this might make it easier for you,” she beamed. “Must some very important people for you go through all this trouble.”

“The most important.” Emotion constricted her throat. It never got easier. Someone had told her that it would but they had lied. 'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,' she silently chanted as she handed over her credit card. Two hundred and fifty dollars on flowers would hurt, and she would be paying on them for months, but they were the only thing she could do for the people she loved. In an ideal world she would have been able to select the perfect gifts and enjoy the excitement on their faces when they opened them, but Hannah had learned and accepted that there was nothing ideal about the world in which she lived. It was a cruel, lonely place.

The florist offered her a gentle smile, her gnarled fingers raising in a quick goodbye when Hannah hoisted the crate into her arms. “Do come back.”

Hannah murmured that she would before ducking her head and carrying her crate of flowers out the door. The quiet, gravity of how she was spending Valentine's Day weighed on her as she made her way towards the older Toyota she had purchased with a prayer and a thousand bucks Victor had loaned her. She carefully set the crate in the passenger seat, wincing when she glanced at the time on the dash. There was only two hours before her shift at the coffee shop. Her heart screamed that it wasn't nearly enough time while her mind reminded her it was the perfect amount of time. It wasn't good to dwell where she was headed.

Saint Michael's looked the way it always did. A picturesque cathedral that looked cozy despite its size, and air of welcome about the cemetery tucked next to it. Sniffing and then clearing her throat, Hannah gently gathered one of the bouquets in the crook of her arm. She murmured a greeting to the groundskeeper and Widow Harrington before focusing on the headstone to the left of the statue of Saint Michael himself. “Happy Valentine's Day Jonathon,” she said softly, crouching before the marble slab that was etched with her brother's basic information. Birth. Death. Loving Brother and Son. And only a dash to represent the life he had lived. “I know, red roses on Valentine's Day is so contrived but hey, I wouldn't be your annoying little sister if I didn't intentionally do things to piss you off.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing to the tears to disappear. It was a useless plea. The salty drops were already running down her cheeks. “Your friend Zig put in an application at the coffee shop,” she whispered. Crouching, she placed the bouquet in the urn attached to the headstone. “I told him I would put in a good word for him. He was always nice. A little hot headed at times but nice.” Her fingers shook as she fluffed out the arrangement, shifting the stems until they looked the way she wanted. “I'm supposed to hang out with this girl Kaitlin and her roommates after work tonight. We're going to try to make it to the midnight release of that new wizard movie. It's more your kind of movie then mine but...I told you I would try and I'm trying.” Taking a deep breathe, she laid her palm across his name. “I love you Jonathon, and I miss you more and more each day.” She blinked back several tears and let out another huff of air. “Don't forget to look after Eleanor, Thomas, Clarissa, and Simon for me. They're our family now too.”

Clearing her throat, Hannah stood and hurried back towards her car. There were those who thought she was crazy for wanting to spend Valentine's Day wandering from cemetery to cemetery, leaving expensive flowers that would wilt and die. What they thought didn't matter. Valentine's Day was supposed to be about love, about reminding people how important they were and even if it didn't make sense to anyone else, what she was doing made sense to her. During the thirty minute drive to Braidwood Manor she went over the things she wanted to tell the Waverly's. She'd uncovered so many things that they would have wanted to know and it sucked that she couldn't actually tell them. On New Year's she'd tried. She'd let herself be conned by some gypsy who swore they could commune with the dead. Hannah might have bought into it if the woman hadn't gone into some spiel about their peaceful deaths. Murder and suicide were never peaceful. 'Stop thinking about that,' Hannah ordered, blinking back tears as she turned her car off the main road and onto the seldom traveled lane would take her to the family cemetery where Eleanor and her siblings were buried. 'Remember your promise. You're only going to focus on the good.'

“Happy Valentine's Day,” she called out, her voice echoing in the woods that surrounded the small plot. “I tried to get a different color for each of you but the florist was only able to promise red, so...I'm sorry Thomas but you're going to have to get over having the same as Simon.” She walked around the car to retrieve the crate from the passenger seat. “I have some news that will make you smile Clarissa but first...” Hannah stopped in front of the first of four identical headstones. Eleanor Waverly. She dropped to her knees and traced the name with the tip of her finger. 'I should have said yes,' she silently sobbed,' when you offered to stay I should have been selfish and said yes.' It had seemed too good to be true, nobody got a second chance at life. Or did they? Hannah found herself questioning that more and more. She'd read some things, met some people, specifically an Egyption antiquities dealer named Kamilah and her  girlfriend/assistant Lily, that made her think maybe there was more to life after death than, well, death. “I discovered something you would find interesting. There's a Waverly Hall at Hartfeld. I had forgotten all about it because I'm not an English major. I did a little digging and it turns out the funds to build it were donated by your father! Since you...none of you...had the opportunity to attend college he had a hall built in your honor. There's even a plaque with your names on it.” Shifting slightly, she reached for a bouquet and laid it at the base of the headstone. “I wish I could give you these in person. I mean, if you were here I probably would have done something a little more personal like baked a cake or made your favorite dinner.” She paused, closing her eyes. “I should have told you that I loved you,” she murmured. “I should have been brave, like you, and just...” She shook her head. There was no use in dwelling on what she could not change.

“Clarissa,” she choked out, scooting on to the next head stone. “I found out the most fascinating thing. Do you remember that boy you were telling me about? The one you had a mad crush on but never had the chance to tell?” Reaching back, Hannah dragged the crate towards her. “I think he might have a crush on you as well because...” smiling sadly, she placed another bouquet near Clarissa's headstone, “...he had a daughter named Clarissa. I tried to find out more information, like did any of his ancestors know how his wife and him came about that name...and in the process I got to actually meet your namesake! She's an elementry school teacher in Northbridge. She says her father named her after a dear friend of his that died too soon. He didn't forget you Clarissa. He made sure you were remembered.” As she had done with Eleanor's, she traced Clarissa's name, her heart tightening with each letter. Her hand fell away and she made herself move on to the next headstone. Thomas.

“I'm not sure if you heard me telling Eleanor about Waverly Hall at Hartfeld, but that isn't the only memorial on campus. My friend Kaitlin is a music major and every day she practices piano in the Thomas Waverly room. Your father did that for you...just you.” The crate was almost empty, save for the two bouquets for the boys. It hurt to pull out the flowers, to lay them in the dirt that covered where Thomas's body rest. “When I found that out I had to tell her about you. What an amazing musician you were and how you probably would have become famous if you hadn't died so young.” It was hard to say what Thomas's musical future would have been but Hannah liked to think he would have become a household name. “And Simon,” she forced herself to lay the last of the flowers against his headstone, “I found your insect collection in our science department. College students marvel over it and the fact that it was built by someone so young makes it even more awe inspiring.”

Rising to her feet, Hannah struggled against the sob tightening her throat. She had known this would be hard, had thought she was prepared for the onslaught of emotions, but like so many times before she'd been wrong. “I miss you,” she whispered, her eyes welling with a fresh onslaught of tears. “I miss you more than you could possibly know.” Sniffling, she took a deep breathe and let her eyes wander from headstone to headstone. “I...I have to go now but I promise I'll be back soon.” She took a shuddering breathe, whispered her love once more, and then made her way back to the car. If she hurried, she would just make it to work on time and then after..after she would try to pretend her heart wasn't shattered in a million pieces. 'Who knows,' an all to familiar voice whispered on the wind, 'maybe you'll find love again.'

[knbfanfic]

Takao makes sure to lose touch with Midorima after high school because he was in love and it hurt. He had tried confessing once but Midorima shut him down. But it was clear that Midorima knew what Takao wanted to do but wanted things to remain the same. But Midorima found himself full of regret and longing since Takao left. 6 years after high school, at Aomine and Momoi's wedding Kagami lets slip to Midorima that Takao is now with Izuki and that Mr & Mrs Aomine will be their new neighbours...

//Oooh why do I feel like this one might hurt a bit? Lets go~Phew this got rather long so I’m using the usual read more tag. //

((With Takao sick and unable to attend the wedding, the oblivious ace of Seirin returned from America encouraged by the new bride the tsundere and the hawk meet again… But can six years of distance and pain really be overcome over one night?))

                         ~.:.~Flashback to Team Graduation Day~.:.~Following Shuutoku’s tradition after the final game the seniors had to leave the team, and take the remaining time to study and prepare for school. There were quite a few seniors who had remained even though they didn’t get much play time, thanks to the talented rookies only one or two players in the same year as Midorima and Takao got to even be on the bench normally. There was a small party to see off the seniors, then a spartan drill lead by the third year regulars before they were freed. Everyone had split up, and as normal the former ace and point guard were together. There wasn’t really anyone around so he built up the resolve and stopped walking. Takao’s intent wasn’t missed by Midorima who was concerned at the moment the hawk faced him.

Midorima had looked at Takao with eyes full of confusion and disdain, he hadn’t been attracted to anyone that he was aware of, basketball was the thing that took all his time so he recoiled from Takao saying “Shin-chan… Since we’re going to be graduating soon I wanted to tell you something. After all, I don’t want to regret anything after we leave. So hear me out.” His smile was more fragile than normal, but that probably escaped the ace at that moment. The ravenette had taken a breath and looked up at him “I like you, I fell for you pretty hard somewhere along the line… We spent so much time together I didn’t even realize at first… But I can’t ignore it since I noticed… I really like you a lot.” The unchanging expression of shock changed to something similar to hurt and very similar to disgust, Midorima shook his head “…Takao… I…. That’s not something I can do…”

He refused to cry in front of him, and waved it off. The hawk had smiled and nodded “Of course… It’s not fitting for someone from a lineage like yours to be with a guy… I get it~ I just had to say it.” He had glanced at the clock on the wall and smiled wryly to himself “Right… I was supposed to meet my sister soon, I gotta run Shin-chan. See you around.” Turning on his heel he left Midorima reaching toward him hesitating, he could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t know what to say… Things between them had been so precious to him, to both of them he thought, and he wanted to protect that.

Takao might not have been a track star, but when he needed to he could run. And right that moment all he needed to do was run, so he did, leaving his bike at school he bolted off campus heading to a park no one went to anymore. He couldn’t get Midorima’s disappointed and disgusted looks out of his head. Tears were burning in his eyes by the time he got to the park, he threw himself at the ground back to a fence separating the weeded park from a decrepit basketball court.

              ~~A few weeks later~~ Shuutoku Graduation day~~

Graduation day at Shuutoku was always a grand affair, there were so many students and so many athletes continuing on to greatness. The hawk and the tsundere would have probably been standing together if things hadn’t cracked… Takao built up his resolve and after they graduated from the team, confessed to the former ace, who hadn’t taken it well. Takao knew that Midorima was bad with expressing his emotions to begin with, but the disgust that had seeped out made the forgiving hawks heart shatter.

Midorima was surrounded by people trying to recruit him last minute, family and team members who were congratulating him. That day Takao was glad to be part of the shadow family, he slipped out of the press of people after he got his diploma and a couple photos for his family. He avoided the buzz and slipped off campus for the last time like a shadow in the night. He’d lost weight from pushing himself to study, he enrolled in a nearby school knowing that Midorima wouldn’t be going someplace so small he was relieved. As he was aimlessly walking the street a familiar voice had called out to him with a bad joke “Ah! It seems birds of a feather do flock together! An eyesore has appeared!” Perhaps it was the memories from playing Seirin over the years, or maybe it was because he did feel a kinship to the eagle, maybe he just finally lost it… But the tears started falling again and Takao had tried to escape. Izuki had noticed something was wrong and caught him without meaning to at first, and brought him somewhere to talk.

~~ 6 years later ~~

Takao was bundled up in fluffy pajamas decorated with little eagles, he had a facemask on eyes red from lack of sleep and fever. Still he managed to joke “Jeez Shun… Everything will be untied if you stay like this.” With his trembling hands he fixed Izuki’s tie smiling under his mask. Gently he leaned his forhead to the other’s shoulder when he finished “You have to go for both of us… Momoi would kill me otherwise, especially since they’re moving into the apartment across the hall… We can’t just be flighty neighbors” Izuki couldn’t help but laugh at the bad joke and gently kissed Takao’s cheek before helping him back to the bed, his fever was insane. Honestly Izuki wanted to stay and look after him, but Takao would force himself to go if he’d attempted to do that, so there was an impasse. Takao’s little sister was going to drop by around dinner to make sure her brother ate some porridge, since she was attending university nearby she stopped in sometimes.

Reluctantly after tucking his little hawk into bed and putting a cool cloth on his head the eagle headed out with a sunset colored gift bag in hand. The pink and the blue colors had been so perfect for Aomine and Momoi’s wedding gift that the two birds had picked it before they decided on the gift itself. As Izuki headed to the reception hall to drop it off he crashed into Kagami. They chatted and walked to the venue for the wedding together, it’d been a while since Kagami left for America, he came back since Momoi made sure to invite him. After all who would skip inviting on of her husband’s best friends and rivals to their special day. Izuki caught Kagami up on everything he knew about, how Akashi was sponsoring different basketball events as he took over for his family. About how Midorima and Takao hadn’t talked since school, and how he didn’t know what the green miracle was up to but that he was seeing Takao. About how Kuroko became one of the most diligent preschool teachers around, despite his disappearing act. About Murasakibara opening a sweet shop, Kise was staring in films and on television now. Most of them still played ball in their free time as well, Kiyoshi had gone to America to get the best treatment for his leg. The coach and Hyuuga finally got together, they took over the sports gym and barber shop so they alternate what needs to get done. Kagami filled him in of what it was like abroad, how Alex was doing, about having met Nijimura the former captain of the miracles and such. After they arrived and took their seats they settled in to watch the wedding unfold, it was stunning how gorgeous Satsuki had gotten, she was glowing. With Kuroko and Kise standing behind Aomine and Riko behind Momoi everything was radiant. No one believed Daiki could be so gentle as he lifted the veil over his new wife’s face, there were plenty of cheers and tears as the two promised their lives to each other.

Hours later at the reception Izuki was apologizing to the Ao couple for Takao’s absence, he offered to help them move their gifts back to the apartment from the hall as well so they wouldn’t be late for their flight. While they chatted Kagami spotted a rather miserable looking Midorima, it seemed like he had taken the road of being a doctor. Midorima’s eyes had swept over the crowd a few times, appearing rather sad, drawing Kagami over to him without knowing it. They chatted about their professions, since Midorima over exerted himself in high school he had damaged some of the muscles in his arm. To help younger athletes avoid similar injuries he took the path of medicine, he heard a lot about Kagami playing pro overseas. They chatted a bit about the past and Kagami realized how much he was missing Takao, since Izuki-san hadn’t mentioned that Takao didn’t want to see the carrot he didn’t see any harm in telling him how the hawk was doing. Midorima’s hand curled around the small plush bird in his hand and he trembled slightly thanking him, then he dipped out to take a call from his job. Kagami wandered off to catch up with the others and congratulate the couple. Kagami was stunned to learn that the cake was made by Murasakibara, and the catering was done by Mitobe and Kogenai who now ran a catering company.

As the night was winding down Midorima saw Izuki helping Daiki and Satsuki and offered to help, since he had driven down in case he had to leave for the hospital. The blue-pink pair smiled and left Midorin and Izuri to handle the gifts so they could go on their short trip since it was only a few days. Satsuki handed Midorima the key smiling saying “If you could set things up Midorin I’d appreciate it~ You can leave the key with Izurin afterwards” She hugged the two and dragged Aomine away. It was her consideration, even Izuki couldn’t help but sigh. Good intentions pave the road to hell they say, her intentions were so pure no one could argue. Maybe her name should have been Shiroki instead of Momoi. Even Midorima was surprised by the obviousness of her intentions and looked somewhat apologetically at Izuki. After everything was loaded into the car he drove to the parking lot designated for the building and helped carry the gifts upstairs, between the two of them it took about three trips to get everything inside up to the third floor and into the apartment. It would take Midorima a few hours to sort everything and unpack it for them. He was probably going to be house sitting for the newlyweds for the night, Izuki couldn’t help but pity the awkward doctor. Midorima had taken out his phone and was searching for nearby restaurants, after all he’d have to eat something and probably buy toiletries or something. Granted being a doctor he likely had a stash in his car incase he had to stay out overnight.

Taking pity on him Izuki steeled himself and smiled “Why don’t you come over and eat dinner with us… Takao might be sleeping though, he caught a pretty bad cold when he was out doing his last photography exhibition shoot, he was trying to get the perfect photo for Aomine and Momoi’s wedding gift and he fell head first into the ice cold ocean… He’s been recovering for about a week now… I don’t know how he’ll take to it though, after all when you’re sick it’s hard to hold anything together…” Midorima hesitated and Izuki could see the internal struggle, he clearly regretted hurting Takao back then and missed him… Izuki couldn’t help but wonder just how much.

After a bit of coaxing and deliberation Midorima followed Izuki across the hall to the apartment the bird pair shared, they took their shoes off at the entrance of Aomine’s and Midorima just used slippers to cross over since he had to come back to unpack anyway.His little bird plushie was snuggled into his breast pocket since he’d needed both hands to carry that insane amount of gifts. Izuki was startled to see Takao sitting curled up in a ball hugging a deco pillow on the sofa sound asleep. It seems his sister had come and helped him eat, but then had to leave. She left a note on the coffee table ’Sorry Shun-nii, Kazu refused to lay back down and I have a lecture tonight for astronomy so I couldn’t argue! so I bundled him up before I left. He seems to be doing a bit better, his temperature is coming down! Good luck!’  Midorima had frozen in place seeing the hawk, although he had clearly aged, with that mask on and the flush from fever he looked nearly identical to how he was in high school. Izuki stroked Takao’s hair and murmured quietly so Midorima wouldn’t hear “Kazu, wake up love, we have a visitor if you’re up for it… An old friend of yours.” Takao’s eyes fluttered open tiredly and even with the mask his overjoyed smile was obvious on his face as he released the pillow and wrapped his arms around Izuki’s neck pressing his forehead to the eagle’s much cooler one mumbling tiredly “Shun you’re home… I missed you…” He affectionately cuddled for a moment and Izuki stroked his hair smiling, he was really cute like this. A few moments after he finally woke up he froze his steel eyes showed something that startled Izuki, they were full of fear when he noticed Midorima. He returned to hugging the pillow causing Izuki to almost lose his balance as he caught himself of the sofa, stroking his hair he said “Kazu, Midorima is unpacking for Momoi… I invited him over to eat so he doesn’t have to go to a restaurant… Is that okay?” The eagle was concerned seeing his lover so startled, he regretted his choice more seeing him visibly tremble. Midorima was about to say he’d go out after all when Takao’s voice finally responded “I-it’s fine…. Shin-chan probably still hates eating out… Especially alone… He finds people too noisy… And he got teased a lot back then…”

Both Midorima and Izuki were surprised by the answer, but the hawk wasn’t looking at his former teammate he was staring at the tie he fixed for Izuki earlier. Izuki kissed Takao’s forehead and nodded “Alright love, would you like some ice cream to eat with us? Your throat sounds sore.” Takao nodded and looked at his lover clearly nervous. Izuki whispered to him again “It’s okay Kazu, I’m not going anywhere… If you can’t take it anymore just call for me.” Reluctantly he nodded as he watched Izuki pull back and stretch glancing at Midorima smiling “Sit down for a bit, relax I’ll make us something light since it’s late.” Izuki the headed into the kitchen which was separated by an island toward the back of the large room.

Midorima sat in the chair closest to the exit, he smiled almost tearfully at Takao as he was the first to break the silence that spread between them “It’s been six years… Have you been doing well?” Takao was startled that Midorima took the initiative to break the silence and nodded. “I graduated from the same school as Shun with a business degree and a photography certificate… I’ve been doing photography for a few years and playing ball with a local team…. I’ve been together with Shun for about five years now…” Squeezing the pillow tighter to his chest he almost whimpered out “How have you been Shin-chan… I haven’t seen you since graduation…” Midorima blinked smiling kindly nodded “I finally finished my doctorate, I’ve been practicing progressive medicine since I hurt myself a bit in our last year from over exertion. I’ve been busy with my family as well, my father wants my assistance frequently. At the last alumni team meeting the senpai were asking about you, they asked me to pass their contact information to you if I got the chance as your number changed from back then…. I’ll be sure to leave it with Izuki-san for you so you have it when you’re feeling better… You know Miyaji-san has always been a worrier, and he was concerned that you were missing.” A small warmth took the edge of fear out of the hawk’s eyes hearing about their former seniors. The eagle in the kitchen making them fried rice relaxed a bit, this was going better than expected… Though they were rather formal with each other, clearly those two ex-best-friends didn’t know what level of distance to have anymore…

The two had small conversations, about the seniors, photography, their little sisters, their old friends, nothing substantial. This continued over the meal, they ate at the coffee table since Takao probably shouldn’t sit in a dining chair trembling as he was. Izuki sat beside Takao with a cushion between them at the hawk insisting that he might still be contagious. Slowly the eagle was dragged into reminiscing about Seirin and Shuutoku in the past, how him and Takao had hooked up and so on. The pace changed slightly when Izuki went to take the dishes into the kitchen after turning down Midorima’s offer to wash them. Swallowing his pride Midorima gave Takao the little bird plushie that had been his lucky item and said “I’m glad you’re doing well with Izuki-san Takao… Since you left back then I was worried… I didn’t want things between us to change… I loved you…. But you were like a brother to me, I didn’t know how I should respond… I couldn’t handle thinking I might lose you… But because of that, my selfishly believing that nothing would change… I did lose you… I won’t stop by anymore since it’s obvious you don’t want to see me anymore… Thank you for being my best friend and partner in the past… Stay well Takao” After that Midorima had thanked Izuki once again for inviting him and disappeared across the hall, locking the door and unpacking for the newlyweds. Before dawn Midorima had already left, leaving an envelope with the senior’s contact information with the key the the Aomine apartment in Izuki and Takao’s mailbox.

Takao was in shock for a few days and ended up getting more sick from stress, it took Izuki a few days to calm the hawk down and soothe him back to being himself. True to his word they didn’t see Midorima again, but Momoi promised he was doing well. Aomine accidently let it slip that the tsundere had gone on a vacation to recover from a heartbreak. That was the end for them. It was just as jagged as their start… A perfect ending for an imperfect pair, maybe once the hurt was gone once the nightmares of disgust and distance stopped plaguing them they’d be able to attend one of the alumni meets together, instead of one going by day and the other by night… A true light and shadow story. The hawk plushie sits in the bottom of a shoe box in the box with Takao’s Shuutoku things that Izuki refuses to throw away, knowing one day his lover might really regret it.

[puppetwritings]

Please! This isn’t a Game! || Pt. 2 || Jeonghan

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt. 4 // Pt. 5 // Pt. 6 //

➢ Word Count: 3259

➢ Genre: sci-fi, fantasy, fluff, comedy, transmigration

➢ Summary: What do you do when you get thrown into an unknown world? Well, Jeonghan sure as heck does not know.

——–

Just outside the outskirts of the city, past a forest and on a hill, stood a large, haunting Victorian castle. Near it was a large lake and behind it was an even larger yard that carried high-tech machinery and weapons. Inside, were students that range from twenty to twenty-eight years old, all mingling from first year to fourth year.

Down a hall with portraits of the previous deans on the wall, walked the student body president. You made a left, then a right, and then halted and stared at the crowd of students breaking their necks to stare out the window.

“Ah! Y/N,” Mari, your friend, rushed over and grabbed your hand. “Y/N, there’s a new student.”

“Of course, there are new students,” you said. “The testing just finished.”

“No, but there’s an amazing new student,” a boy named Don piped up. “My sister said he’s a hero.”

Another student nodded. “I heard he was used as a diversion so General Yoon and Major Yoon could take out a large portion of the Mutated Butterflies.”

“Is that so?” you tilted your head and inched forward. You looked out the window to see the sleek, black limousine that belonged to the Yoon family.

The dean was stooped down to speak into the car window. A long moment later, the door opened and a slim young man walked out. His hair was a soft brown and rested against his forehead, only to be moved by the spring breeze. He already wore the uniform. A crisp white…wait.

“White! Y/N, he’s wearing white!” Mari excitedly shook you. “That means he’s part of the elite class, isn’t he?!”

“The tie. He’s also in the accelerated class,” another student pointed out.

“Y/N, he’s the same year as you then!”

“Oh god, I wonder what class he’s in?”

“Do you think it’ll be E24 or E13?”

“If he’s good enough to be in the accelerated course, he must be in E13!”

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you pulled away from the crowd. You patrolled the halls for about thirty minutes longer before entering your classroom, E13.

No one was there yet. There was still twenty minutes before class but you sat down at your desk and pulled out the materials for class when the door swung open. The slim young man walked in. His eyes quickly scanned the room before landing on you.

He smiled.

You frowned.

Jeonghan awkwardly cleared his throat but walked over anyway. “My name is Yoon Jeonghan. This is where class E13 is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” Jeonghan waited a heartbeat for you to give our name, but when you didn’t he cheerfully brushed it off and went to find a seat far away from you.

You stared at him. This was Yoon Taewook’s brother. He looked like him, despite having different mothers. Their noses were inherited from their father but their other features seemed to be from their mothers. They were handsome, as their father was back in the day. While Taewook was the same unapproachable handsome, Jeonghan felt like a warm summer’s day—especially when he smiled. Yet somehow, behind his eyes, you could feel the same hardened soul that Taewook had. Maybe it was their father that made them this way.

Jeonghan felt you staring at him but did nothing. He silently called the system over. “Who is she?”

“She?” the system shifted through the colors of the rainbow. “Not sure. She’s not in host’s memory files and she isn’t in the system of the world, so she must not be anyone important.”

“Then what of the school? Search smaller, won’t you?” Jeonghan said, sounding exasperated.

The system did as it was commanded. “Her name is Y/N. She’s a third year in the elite course. She’ll graduate a year after you. However, in the original timeline, it says that she dropped out before she finished her fourth year.”

“Huh…”

“Does host have something on his mind?”

“Yes, I always have something on my mind. How else would I remain so brilliant?”

The system turned an impatient orange but Jeonghan didn’t expand on the subject. The small ball of a system floated to a corner and began to sulk. It was drained. It’s only been a week and it was already drained.

Jeonghan felt eyes on him all during class, but he only turned his head to ignore them and stared out the window the entire time. This created an ethereal picture of a fairy prince that just walked out of an oil painting. The girls sighed in admiration at such a lovely image but the guys’ expressions turned ugly.

When class was dismissed for a day, a few of the friendlier students walked over and started up a conversation.

Jeonghan awkwardly glanced out the window and sheepishly packed up his things. “Sorry, I have to go. My ride is here.”

“You don’t live in the dorms?” Mari asked.

“No, I, uh,” Jeonghan turned pink. His voice grew quiet and he seemed to shrink back a little, creating a pitiful image. “My father wouldn’t allow me to.”

The looks on the surrounding students’ faces turned sour. With Jeonghan’s appearance and his words, it seemed that his father was really mistreating him. Taewook was allowed to stay in the dorms, so why wasn’t Jeonghan? And why did Jeonghan look so scared about going home?!

“I’ll—I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Jeonghan quickly pushed passed the crowd and jogged out of the school building.

Mari wandered back over to you with a frown. She put a hand on your desk to get your attention. You pulled down your headphones and looked at her expectantly.

“Do you think Jeonghan’s dad abuses him?” Mari asked, concern laced in her voice.

You raised an eyebrow. You looked back at the door. “I think he’s acting.”

“Acting?” Mari looked surprised.

You nodded. “If he’s so powerful, like you all say, then how could he let his father abuse him. Maybe he’s just trying to defame him.”

“That’s not true,” the students that had surrounded Jeonghan’s desk migrated over. “I heard he doesn’t have a magic root.”

“He doesn’t have a magic root?” a girl gasped. “Then, how did he pretend to be Taewook to fend off the army?”

“Was that just a rumor then?”

“It wasn’t a rumor!” a boy spoke up. “My sister said that his moves were very textbook and elementary. He most likely studied how to fight by himself and got lucky.”

A dreary, pitying air surrounded the students.

“He could have died,” someone finally said, their voice quiet and barely above a whisper.

“I doubt his brother and his father would have let him die,” you rolled your eyes as you stood up.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Mari asked.

“It’s Wednesday,” you replied sullenly.

“Oh. Well, come back soon.”

After you left, the gossipy students merged on Mari.

“What does she do on Wednesdays?”

“Yeah, she always leaves campus on Wednesdays and doesn’t come back until the next day!”

“She visits her boyfriend,” Mari said with a long sigh. “I hope they break up soon. He’s honestly so awful.”

The students, excited that there was something substantial to talk about, asked more questions and Mari willingly answered in the most detailed way she could.

  ——–

When Jeonghan arrived home, he was faced with a locked door. He frowned and went through his bag for his keys and even rummaged through his pockets. He turned to find the chauffeur that had dropped him off, but he had long left, leaving only the smell of heated magic in the air.

“Navi, could you open the door?” Jeonghan asked.

“I can, but as this is an electronic system, it will act as if you broke in and alert the authorities.”

“Great.”

If he remembered correctly there was a statue just by his bedroom window. If he could climb that and push open his window, he would be able to get in. With this in mind, Jeonghan began walking around the large mansion to look for his room. He stepped onto the premises of the garden but froze when he heard voices.

Jeonghan had integrity. He had morals. But he had also long abandoned them when he was a child.

Jeonghan quickly jumped into the bushes and poked his head out just enough so he could see. The system circled his head until it was pulled down and held in place as Jeonghan quirked up his ears and listened. A male voice…and a female voice?

“There are no females in this household other than the maids,” Jeonghan said. “And Taewook would never speak to a servant.”

“How do you now it’s Taewook, host?” the system asked curiously. Its host was right.

“I never forget a person’s voice,” Jeonghan mumbled. He strained his ear before moving closer as silent as he possible could. A soft “ah” escaped him. “It’s Y/N.”

“What’s she doing here?” the system mumbled in confusion.

“Let’s just listen,” Jeonghan said.

Jeonghan frowned with brows furrowed. If he remembered correctly, you had still been in the classroom when he left. There was no way for you to arrive before him.

“Taewook, I—”

Your words were cut short by the stinging sensation that appeared on your cheek.

The system gasped and it bounced around angrily, turning a bright crimson. This guy was truly scum!

“You’re so stupid!” Taewook hissed. He gripped your shoulder tightly until his fingertips left bruising marks. “Couldn’t you tell that wasn’t me?”

“I—”

“I thought you said you love me,” Taewook said. “How could you mistake that wimp for me, huh? That’s already offensive in itself.”

Jeonghan held back a scoff.

“He just…held out so well,” you replied, your voice not wavering in the slightest. You pushed aside his hand and took a step back though, your head slightly lowered. “You said you weren’t feeling well recently, so I figured it must have just been the cold acting up.”

“Even if I was boggled down by a cold, I wouldn’t be that weak!” Taewook said, his voice raising before falling again. He pinched his nose bridge and let out a heavy sigh. “Well, now you’ve done it.”

You raised your eyes and watched as he paced.

“He’s actually joined the academy!” Taewook said, throwing up his hands. “That useless trash did! And father praised him! Can you imagine?”

You remained silent.

“If this continues, father might actually accept him despite him being a disgrace. He’ll be more impressive if he makes it through the military without magic,” Taewook grumbled. He glared at you. “What was he like in school today?”

“Timid but polite.”

“Anything else?”

“He…”

“What?”

“He acted pitiful.”

“Acted pitiful?” Taewook waited for you to explain.

“I think he deliberately worded some things to paint you and your father in a bad light,” you said without hesitation. “His eyes were a little moist and he’d flinch when he thought about his home situation too.”

“That brat…”

Jeonghan smirked to himself. You were right. Taewook and their father were public figures so naturally, news about them mattered. They rarely mentioned their home life. It was only known that their father had no wife and Taewook’s mother had long passed. They had a brother and a son but he was a magical waste so no one paid attention to him. There was no sympathy for those who are weak in this world but if the weak suddenly gained a voice and spoke about their difficulties, it would spread like wild fire.

“He can’t stay in the academy,” Taewook finally concluded.

“What should I do?”

“Make him hate his life,” Taewook said, his voice so low Jeonghan had to strain to hear him. “Make everyone else hate him too. I want him to willingly quit himself.”

You nodded obediently.

Taewook reached out and patted your head, a warm smile on his face. You were dazzled for a moment but you couldn’t help but think his brother had a warmer smile. To get away, you shyly smiled and ducked back.

“Are you busy next week?” Taewook asked.

Your heart jumped and you turned back to him expectantly.

“I need the floor plan for the Mutated Butterflies new hide out. You could pass it over to me and after we could go grab lunch.”

You nodded quickly. “I’m free any day next week.”

Taewook grinned and moved closer to place a kiss on your forehead when the bushes rustled. Taewook’s eyes grew dark. He pulled out a throwing knife from his belt and sent it into the bushes. A strangled scream emerged and Jeonghan stood.

At first, he looked alarmed, but then he looked sheepish. He shrank and began to frantically wave his arms. “I—uh—I didn’t see anything! Uh, just, there was this cat! And the cat took…took my key.”

“Key?” Taewook raised an eyebrow.

“Housekey!”

“Why do you need a housekey?” Taewook’s brows furrowed in distrust.

“Because I don’t have a chip,” Jeonghan subconsciously rubbed his wrist.

As an illegitimate child who was not born in an official hospital, Jeonghan did not get a chip implanted in him. Legally, he was documented but as illegitimate children are usually abandoned and left to rot, resources such as citizenship chips are not wasted on them.

“Oh,” Taewook smirked. “Right. Well, wait at the front, I’ll let you in.”

“Okay!” Jeonghan nodded, looking stupidly excited as he ran off.

You frowned. “How come we couldn’t sense his presence at all?”

“Most likely because we’re used to those with magic,” Taewook grumbled. “He’s so useless you can’t even sense that he’s there.”

You nodded. Even if he didn’t have magic, at least one of you should have noticed. “He must have just arrived.”

“Must have,” Taewook agreed. “Otherwise, he probably would have confronted us about all that shit we said.”

You hummed in agreement and began to relax.

“Well, I’m going to let that idiot in. I’ll see you next week, alright?” Taewook patted your shoulder and turned to leave.

“I’ll message you when I get home?” you called out but Taewook said nothing in response.

Taewook reached the front where Jeonghan was waiting. Jeonghan jerked slightly when Taewook walked past and unlocked the front door. Jeonghan quickly grabbed the door as if he were afraid his older brother would close it on him.

“How was school today?” Taewook asked offhandedly.

“It was fun! Everyone is really nice,” Jeonghan said sheepshily. “I thought I would get bullied since I don’t have magic.”

“Well, do they know you don’t have magic?”

Jeonghan thought for a moment. “I suppose they don’t know that…”

“You better keep it a secret then,” Taewook said.

Jeonghan nodded seriously, as if he were really taking the advice to heart. “Say, Brother?”

“Hm?”

“That…that was Y/N, wasn’t it? Are you and Y/N…”

“No.”

“But before I saw you were going to—”

“Y/N and I are nothing. Don’t make assumptions,” Taewook harshly reprimanded.

Jeonghan pursed his lips and nodded.

“And do not tell father about what you saw in the gardens today.”

“Don’t—” Jeonghan’s eyes bulged.

Taewook stopped walking and turned to look at him. “If I hear a peep from you about this matter again, I will make your life a living hell.”

Jeonghan gulped nervously and nodded. “I swear, I won’t tell father.”

“Good,” Taewook began walking ahead again.

Jeonghan let out what sounded like a relieved sigh and followed his brother until he got to his room.

“Host, what’s your plan?”

“Why do you expect that I have a plan?” Jeonghan asked, shedding out of his school uniform.

“Because you always have a plan.”

Jeonghan hummed. “Since you have such high expectations for me, I guess I should have a plan, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Are you curious?”

The system stared at its teasing host. “Yes.”

“Then I won’t tell.”

“Host!”

“I’ll finish the first mission,” Jeonghan said.

The system stayed silent.

“In order to do that, I’m going to need to move into the dorms,” Jeonghan let out a long sigh and fell back on his comfortable bed. “I’m going to miss this bed.”

“How is moving into the dorms going to allow you to activate your powers?”

“In the dorms, there’s a lioness. If you provoke her enough, she’ll bite,” Jeonghan grinned. He curled into the sheets and closed his eyes. “I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow. I haven’t been in school for so long that I’m drained.”

The system hovered beside Jeonghan a moment but then went back to its corner and decided it should get some rest as well.

  ——–

“You’re back?”

You jumped at the sound of another voice in your room and you turned to find a projection of your brother.

“Gosh, Joshua, don’t do that!” you let out an irritated sigh.

“You must be distracted if you didn’t even realize I was here,” the projection stepped forward and sat down at your desk as if it could get tired. “So, where did you go?”

“I went to see Taewook again.”

“How many times do you have to see that guy?” Joshua sighed.

“I go whenever he calls.”

“And what’s that on your face? Did he hit you?” Joshua raised an eyebrow.

“Joshua.”

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t get so invested. You don’t have to answer him whenever he calls. You’re not a slave.”

“Josh.”

“You’re supposed to be our family’s baby!” Joshua said. He stood with some determination. “That’s it, I’m going to tell mom and dad and—”

“Joshua, please,” you rolled your eyes.

“All I’m saying,” Joshua sat back down, “is we shouldn’t have sent you over there. They could have sent me.”

“Taewook is straight.”

“Romance isn’t the only way to a person’s heart,” Joshua replied neatly. “It’s all because of some stupid prophecy that you’re getting abused. You have to get out of there as soon as possible, you hear me?”

“If I can’t find the person, how am I supposed to get out?” you grumbled at your brother’s nonsense.

“Just grab any old Joe and leave,” Joshua said. “If our parents figure out something’s wrong, just blame it on me. The mission would fall through because you already left and then you don’t have to go back.”

“Joshua.”

“I’m just saying,” Joshua said. He paused a moment. “But, really, have you found anything?”

You shook your head. “There’s no one in the academy or the army that I’ve come in contact with that has dark magic as strong as the prophecy says.”

“See? It’s a dead end,” Joshua quickly concluded.

“But…”

“But?”

“There’s someone new,” you said.

“Oh?”

“Taewook’s younger brother. I don’t know what it is about him but I think he’s special.”

Joshua grew stone faced. “Y/N…we’re talking about serious business here, how could you go off on a tangent about a new crush?”

“This isn’t—! Brother!” you glared at him as your face flushed red. “I’m serious! I think there’s something off about him.”

Joshua frowned. “Then investigate him more.”

You nodded.

“Is that all there is to report?”

“Yes, brother.”

Joshua’s projection stood and he walked over. He placed a hand on your head. “Then, I’m signing off now. Make sure to stay safe. Don’t let that Taewook guy take advantage of you.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

You watched as the projection vanished. You kicked off your shoes and laid down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Taewook’s smile blended with Jeonghan’s for a moment and you frowned. How could an angel be related to a devil?

~~~

(A/N: check out the description or the pting ff tag on my blog for new chapters!)

[narniasummerexchange]

Modern Romanticism

for @little-narnian-notes

Word count: 2423

Summary: Modern!au. You meet Susan at university and your emotions snowball.

The university is beautiful. A roving campus steeped in centuries of history and knowledge. A gorgeous lawn you can imagine yourself studying on in the warmer months and a name and plaque for everything.

Downside? The fact you think you’ve made a grave mistake with your classes for the semester. You can just feel the thousands of dollars gurgling down the drain in the pursuit of intellectual enlightenment. Still, you plough on in the hopes that the next set of classes is better now you know what you don’t want.

You stifle a yawn and frown at yourself. You’ve held off from coffee for this long, but it’s getting to crunch time and there’s no more room for being strong and exercising self-restraint. You need caffeine.

Standing in line at the little cafe down the road, you rub at your eyes as you examine the menu. It’s a fairly average place - cream walls with old mass-produced paintings and stiff wooden chairs with rocky tables that you wouldn’t dream of resting your drink on. The usual or drink of the day, you ponder.

“One medium latte, regular sugar please.”

The voice in front of you sounds nice enough, gently pulling you from your early morning daze. Shifting in your worn jeans, your eyes follow the figure to their bag. The satchel is familiar, with its gold lion badge against warm brown leather. It sits a few rows in front of you in your Wednesday morning and Friday afternoon Intro to Poetics lectures. Someone clears their throat and you leap forward sluggishly to place your own order, coughing out a general apology. You stand aside once you’re done, eyes wandering till they fall on the customer in front of you.

The young woman is devastatingly pretty. Quiet, attentive eyes that seem to fragment light. Feathery lashes that tickle the fainest of freckles, surely earned from summers gone by. A glow to her cheeks and a striking lip colour flawlessly streaked on. If you had some kind of artistic talent, you might have gone on about her for longer. Her order is called and she drops the barista a whisper of a smile with her thanks, leaving you with your inadequate thoughts.

You find out through plenty of coincidence and eavesdropping - a rather bad habit of yours - that her name is Susan. An old school name, but you don’t question it. In fact, it suits her. Sophisticated and timeless.

It’s silly. You’ve never even had a proper conversation with her, why is she suddenly so interesting to you? Now you know she exists, as much as you try to stop yourself, you start seeing her everywhere.

Susan is very keep to herself, despite the many people she knows and enjoys. A spectre that weaves the quad pillars between classes. Long, whispering hair and a glide to her step. It contradicts all of the tidbits that you’ve picked up about her.

Most mornings you see her in the cafe, sometimes with a latte - usually those days entail vibrant makeup, maybe to distract from the long nights - other times with a green tea. You still haven’t introduced yourself during lectures, which you’re fine with - at moment, you’re existing educationally.

When you finally speak, your thoughts by now have gotten away from you and you’ve put this poor girl on a pedestal of beauty and curiosity. The lecturer for poetry - a kind woman who wears flowing tops in kaleidoscope floral, just the type of person you expect to teach such a class - asks for a group brainstorm on romanticism in the 18th century. Your partner in crime, Jonathon is away with the flu, leaving you high and dry on the buddy front. Susan is looking around, till her eyes land on you. She makes a little gesture at you and you nod, pulling your stuff together to move to her.

“Hi, I’m Susan.” She says brightly, holding out her hand.

You utter your own name, firmly gripping your hand. She looks at you, with a glitter to her eyes and a twitch to her pink lips.

“We get coffee around the same time, don’t we?” She drops your usual order.

“That’s about right. I’m surprised you recognised me, seeing as I’m always behind you.”

Both of you laugh at your attempt for humour then get down to it, knowing there’s only a limited amount of time.

Conversation flows easily with her and it’s not a struggle to remember what was said just ten minutes ago when her mind races eloquently and jump starts your own. Between your interpretations of what it all means, to how it’s seen today, ideas bounce back and forth constantly like the ebb and flow of the waves. It’s a little painful when time is called. Still, she smiles at you, the edges of her mouth curling.

You grab her phone number at the end of class, as she assures you that she’ll find you on messenger later. It feels like some sort of victory really.

She messages you the next day, asking if you were up for a party on the Friday. Spontaneous and filled with emojis. Much more like the nuggets of facts you;d heard. You decline though, stating you had too much to catch up on that weekend. Maybe next time, she replies. But, honestly, you’ve never been one for the night life of university. Of the house parties and pub crawls till your eyes fall out and you fall over. You get pictures on her snapchat story of that weekend, her make up sharp and figure flattered in the same kind of red that swirls in her glass. This was more common of her.

Anyway, there’s always still the cafe in the morning. Now you smile when you make eye contact and make brief small talk while you wait. Names pop up here and there, mixed with if only’s and back when’s and you wonder if the people who she’s made these memories with are very far away. You walk in time with one another back to campus and she babbles about what happened on the weekend and about how she wishes her roommate would tone it down on the punk rock for a moment so she can think - or at least share the speaker. She asks you about your days and feelings and that need to look at her blooms again. To take in every single part of her, because there is just so much there to admire.

Nowadays, you meet up to proofread work before handing it in or just to study in general. You excel in Shakespeare and the Elizabethan language - begrudgingly - and she seems to have the hang of everything else. Sitting in the cafe is your new favourite thing, especially in the mornings when the sun isn’t too strong as it filters down the street and into the big glass window the both of you have claimed as your own.

Susan looks at you, warmth rounding her cheeks and pen poised above paper. Her burgundy sweater devours her adoringly but you know from the cut of the fabric that it probably wasn’t hers to start with. “Has anyone told you that you’re quite the romantic?”

You splutter, her lovely aesthetic stationary feeling too pretty for your tactless grip. “P-Pardon me?”

She laughs. It’s not bell-like, but full and soft, like cotton sheets and a cat’s purr. She taps her pen to the spiral-bound notebook pinned under her wrist. You’ve managed to stuff a pie of paper under a table leg so it doesn’t rock and you’re careful not to be the one to kick it.

“Your way with words. It’s long and flowery. But not in a bad way! You just sound like a lovesick teenager about everything. Even coffee if I’m reading this right. There’s a pause and she smiles, turning it from a sharp beam to a glow. "It’s cute.”

Your face feels red and you can’t look her in the eye as you croak out a broken thank you.

It’s just getting to autumn and she’s suddenly gone very quiet. It’s mothers day and you’re both situated in the cafe, comparing notes again on what you suspect to be your own lecturer’s work. Her make up is a bit more subdued and her long hair is tied up off her face in fluffy, slept in waves. She reminds you of your first meeting, the colours de-saturated. She hasn’t done a very good job of hiding her weariness, from the way her nimble fingers tick slowly to the dullness in her eyes.

You clear your throat shyly. “Su, are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.”

She stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah. Sort of.”

“How come you aren’t at home, though? Didn’t you say that you lived close by?”

If your parents weren’t overseas for their anniversary, you would have made the long trip back home to cook breakfast and dry cupcakes along with binge-watch that murder mystery series you mum adores so much. She nods and shrugs, pulling her hands away from her tea into her lap.

“My parents aren’t very well at the moment. None of my family is. Just before the start of the semester, there was an accident - the train that derailed down by the south tunnel?” You nod for her. “We were all coming back from holiday. I missed the train in favour of one last night at the festival- James was really cute - but the rest of them - my parents, my three siblings, a cousin and a few family friends - went ahead on time. They were all in the front carriage. So at the moment, it’s just me. Everyone else is in hospital. Seriously injured or in a coma.”

You can’t resist the urge to reach out your hand to grip her arm. It jerks her eyes up to make contact with yours.

“How horrible! Su, I’m so sorry. I’m here for you, you know that right?”

She gives a melancholy curl to her lips and nods, twisting her arm to squeeze back. “I know, thank you.”

You make it your mission afterwards to watch over her. Insist on her messaging you when she got home from a night out, even though she was making all her friends do the same to her. Offering a cookie or two in your lectures - warm and just slightly soft in the middle with gooey choc chips, her favourite. Popping up with notions to go out and explore the town. She had been so kind to you before, you felt the need to return the favour.

This is when things went down hill.

You thought you had her on your mind before, not it was borderline obsessive. Not just her well-being, but just her. Did she like what you wrote? Did she know it might have been about her? Susan’s rapid existence had snowballed violently into a full-blown crush. You try your best not to stare at her too much, pressing crescents into your palms to quell the urge to hug her out on the university’s front lawn. She talked more about her family now that her burden was off her chest. How Edmund would read poetry with her, no matter how little patience he had for it. That Peter would we livid she was wearing on of his favourite sweaters out so quickly. Eustace would be prodding Lucy’s innocent buttons, with his best friend Jill holding no loyalties except to women. She hugs you when you part now, her rosy, floral scent surrounding you in a pleasant haze and her silky hair brushing elegantly against your cheek. Oh, if you had a truly creative cell in your body, you would have written great stories of her by now.

Together you sit in her living room, on a well-loved but slightly bowed sofa, some tv series you wanted to binge on playing softly on the screen. Legs innocently tangled and in your most comfy pyjamas, while she whines just a little for the bag of snakes on your other side. She’s devoured the chocolate pretzels you brought around, knowing she would enjoy them. Your insides are coiled tight and your heart thudding out of your chest warmly. You kick the bag aside and turn to face her, still almost shoulder to shoulder. You can’t not say something. Now with how soft she looks and the comfort and perfect familiarity seeping into your bloodstream.

“Let’s go out sometime.”

She blinks at you, argument cut short. “W-What?”

“We should go out sometime. Just us. Like on…on a…a date.”

The tension spikes and thickens like whipping cream. She stares at you, beautiful glowing eyes flashing with the screen. The blanket smells like her, floral but not too strong with a hint of something else underneath. Her freckles stand out under the artificial light and you wonder for half a breath what you must look like to her.

“I really like you, Su.” You take a breath and a moment to gather your thoughts. You don’t want to sound like rom-com, even if you both like them. “You’ve become really important to me since we met and I’d like to try this with you. Know I can make you happy, especially now and be there for you. Hope you feel something. So, can we?”

You lay your hands out on the blanket between you with bated breath, so much so you might turn blue, but you wouldn’t mind. There is a pensive moment where her eyes examine you before she bridges the gap to twine her cool fingers with yours. Her cheeks bloom red and you grin at her, so bright that you can’t see through your lashes.

“I - of course. You’ve been with me in a way most of my other friends haven’t. I’ve - I’ve thought about you a lot. So, yeah. Let’s give this a go.”

The sigh that passes your lips is heavy and your face floods back with colour. Her next action leaves your breath caught in your throat again as one hand slide up your arm to cup a cheek. Eyes bore into you and her narrow nose is a breath away from yours.

“Can I…kiss you?” She murmurs. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we sat down, really.”

You laugh breathlessly. “If you want.”

When her lips press against yours, all your thoughts finally settle so it’s just…Susan.

[alwaysxknitting]

Prayers and Pondering

This fic was requested by my dear friend @ergahg as so many are lol. He asked for our CP OC’s going to church during their pregnancy. I hope y’all enjoy this one. (it got kind of long.) 

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Brightly colored leaves splattered the dark road like paint splashed across a canvas as Addie’s pickup truck rumbled along. His head sagged as the roaring heater lulled him back toward sleep, his hand absently rubbing against his swollen belly.  His partner glanced over from the driver’s seat smiling lovingly at the ginger man.

               “You sure this is a good idea?” Addie said softly, drawing Leo’s gaze back to him for another moment. “I just… you know how…” Addie chewed on his bottom lip, not allowing himself to finish the statement. The pair was on their way to Sunday morning service at church near their townhouse and the memories of the last church he’d attended with Leo lingered in the back of his mind. “They’ll say…” again he stopped midsentence. Leo reached over and gave his fiancé’s knee a squeeze along with a reassuring smile.

               Addie had attended service with Leo once since they’d moved into their own place. The chapel at Samwell had been alright when he was on campus but Leo hadn’t felt as connected with a church family there as he had with his church family back home in Savannah. The church Addie had joined him at, a Baptist church with a mostly elderly population, had been Leo’s third try since their move.

               “Addie, baby, I promise you it’ll be different this time. I know the last church bothered you, they weren’t a good fit for us anyway. Besides it’s like I told you, God is love, those folks were doing a very poor job of showing that love and by extension showing God. This one is so much better, the folks here are great. They are going to love you.” Addie slumped a little and sighed.

               “Are you sure?”

               “Addie, they are going to love you almost as much as I do.” He squeezed the ginger’s knee again. “I promise it’s going to be nothing like the last time.” He smiled brightly at his partner as the rumbling truck turned onto a short private road. On the left was a large, two story, brick building with lots of windows and a playground, the sign announcing it was a private Christian school. Ahead on the right side stood a small white building with a steeple and behind it another brick building, a public elementary school. Leo took the right turn and quickly found a spot in the half full parking lot.

               “Do I look okay?” Addie looked down at his dark jeans, black t-shirt, and red plaid flannel. His round belly peeked up under his hand, his amber eyes looking first at it then to his scuffed high tops. “Aren’t you supposed to wear fancy clothes to church?”

               Leo cut the truck off and swung open his own door. Crisp, damp air flooded the cab causing Adding to shiver. “Babe, do you see the way I’m dressed? Do I look like I’m all fancy? Do I ever look fancy when I leave for church on Sundays?” Addie took in his partner’s attire, a pair of paint splattered jeans, a black long sleeve shirt layered with a red SMH tee, and his beat up brown boots. Addie shook his head.

               “No, you just look like you,” he whispered. Leo nodded and began to climb out of the truck. Raindrops speckled the lenses of his glasses as the wind whipped his dark hair.  From the truck door he looked back across at Addie.

               “Exactly, here I’m free to be myself wholly and be accepted by my church family and Addie, they are going to accept you too.”

               “But I…” his gaze dropped to his belly, fingers spreading wide, fear all over his face.

               “Do you trust me?” The ginger nodded slowly.

               “Of course, I do.”

               “Then trust me in this.” Leo came around the front of the truck and opened his door for him. “I know it can be scary but it’s going to be alright. These folks, they know I’m bi, they know my fiancé is a man. I promise it will be good.” Leo pressed a gentle kiss to Addie’s forehead. Once again Addie nodded, taking Leo’s outstretched hand and climbing down from the truck.

               The pair made their way inside barely escaping as the rain began to fall harder. Leo shook his shaggy black hair; spraying water drops all around. Addie laughed as the water hit him, forgetting his worry for a moment, a smile spreading across his face. Cream colored tiling led into the green carpeted lobby and crisp grey walls led forward, WELCOME stenciled across one wall in flowing white letters. An elderly woman in a blue floral dress milled about in the lobby setting up what seemed to be canisters of coffee and muffled music floated through a closed door nearby. A bright welcoming smile filled the woman’s aged face as she turned and spotted the boys.

               “Oh Leo! Good morning, how are you?” she asked hurrying over as fast as her cane let her. Leo smiled back at her and embraced her tightly.

               “Good morning Miss Marcie, I’m well. I want to introduce you to someone. This is my fiancé Addie,” he said. Her kind eyes turned to the ginger man taking in first his face then glancing lower before moving back up to his face. The smile on her face didn’t dim for a second and soon she was giving Addie a tight hug.

               “It’s nice to finally meet you honey. I’ve heard so much about you.” Pink rose in Addie’s cheeks and ears at her words but he quickly hugged back before pulling away. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long?” His blush deepened.

               “They um they should be here sometime in mid-October, at least that’s what the doctor says.” She nodded knowingly and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. A young woman with curly cooper hair stuck her head out the kitchen door.

               “Second pot’s ready Miss Marcie,” she called then waved at Leo and Addie. “Hey Leo.” He waved back.

               “Morning, Lynne” he called. The elderly woman, Miss Marcie, smiled at the boys before excusing herself to finish helping the ginger woman in the kitchen.

               “We’re a little early but that’s okay. I’m gonna go set our stuff down in the sanctuary. There’s coffee and stuff over there.” The look of dread on Addie’s face at Leo leaving his side was perfectly clear. The raven haired man smiled reassuringly before giving his partner’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll be right back, I promise miss Marcie doesn’t bite. She might try to hug you again but she won’t bite. Addie nodded slowly and began worrying his bottom lip as Leo disappeared through the closed doors.

               As he stood awkwardly in the entryway Addie looked around. The hall to his left held multiple doors leading to a nursery, several classrooms, and restrooms. Half way down the hall the cool grey walls gave way to bright colors and funky shapes. Aimlessly he wandered toward the color, curiosity getting the better of him. A little boy no older than six ran through one of the open doors nearly colliding with Addie’s legs. He looked up at the man smiling bright then waved and spun around running back into the classroom. A little girl, a few years younger than the boy, stuck her head out of the door, a bright bow taking up most of her head. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as Addie wandered back up the hall.

More people were beginning to arrive, the lobby now buzzing with the chatter of conversations and greetings. Several people said good morning to him as Addie took a seat on a plush grey couch. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps this place might truly be different. The doors Leo had disappeared through were propped open and the live music had changed to a stereo playlist. A head of raven hair weaved through the people in the lobby before Leo spotted Addie and came to join him, a slender woman with salt and pepper hair behind him. She continued down the hall, a tooth brush in her hand.

“There you are sweetheart,” Leo said sitting next to him. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s so different, they’re all so friendly and I swear I’ve been hugged like six times.” A happy smile overtook Leo’s features. “Are they always so huggy?” Leo’s happy laughter rang out at the question as he quickly nodded.

“Yeah, we’re kind of a huggy church,” he replied getting to his feet. “Come on, we can head in if we want. Service will start in a little bit but there’s some people I want you to meet.” Taking his hand Addie got to his feet and followed him into the sanctuary. A young woman in glasses crouched in the sound booth loading disks into a tower of drives.

“Em, who’s preaching today?” The woman’s head snapped up nearly causing her to fall into the stool behind her.

“Good grief Leo don’t do that, you scared the crap out of me. Thomas is preaching today.” She rose to her feet and turned pausing when she spotted Addie at his side. “Oh, hello,” she said pushing up her glasses in the same nose scrunching way Leo did.

“Emma, this is my fiancé Addie.” She smiled warmly and extended a hand. Addie took it and shook it before glancing at Leo.

“Nice to meet you Addie, I’m Emma but I’m sure you already got that.” Before either of them could respond a man a little older than them entered the room stepping into the booth. The man introduced himself as Christopher, an associate pastor at the church and greeted Addie warmly. Christopher and Emma began talking about details for the service so Leo led the way to a short row of green chairs down the right-hand aisle.

His and Addie’s jackets laid across two of the chairs along with Leo’s worn leather bible. The front wall of the room was layered top to bottom with pallet boards, the rest of the room an even cream color with several windows along each wall. A small stage full of instruments and mikes filled the front of the room with a large tv mounted on each side. Addie sank into the green chair as he looked around. People were slowly trickling in when the salt and pepper haired woman from before made a bee line for them.

“Leo, you have an introduction to make,” she said, a smile lingering in her eyes. Funky black cat eye glasses framed her face as she sank into a seat in the row ahead of them.

“Lisa, this is my fiancé Addie. Baby, this is my friend Lisa.” She smiled and extended her hand. Her short hair practically stood straight up and her energy could only be called infectious. Addie couldn’t help but like the woman. He’d heard Leo speak about her and shook her hand, glad to finally have a face to put with the name.

They chatted for a few minutes before everything got underway. Christopher came up to make several announcements including an upcoming baby dedication, a worship night, and a men’s breakfast all coming up over the next few weeks. Christopher then instructed them to say hi to someone around them, giving the band a chance to get settle on the stage. Leo exchanged greetings with several people before the music from before began and lyrics appeared on the screens at the front. The first song was upbeat and fast paced. Addie had never seen Leo get so wrapped up in music before. The second song changed the tempo a bit with words about the reckless, unending love of God. The last song was slower speaking of God being a good, good father. Leo’s eyes closed and he swayed gently to the music, even raising his hand at some point. His other hand never left the tight grip Addie had on it.

Christopher continued to play his guitar softly as a middle-aged man took the stage speaking briefly on the importance of giving with a glad heart. Leo looked over at Addie, seeing his puzzled look, and held up the envelope he’d deposited twenty dollars in. As the guitar continued softly a couple came down the two aisles holding gold collection plates. Leo dropped the envelope in as they passed.  

The music faded and a young man in a Dallas Cowboy’s hat took the stage and introduced himself as Thomas, a member of the teaching team, and began his sermon. He was wrapping up a series on the prodigal son which had begun with the brother, then the son, and ending with the father. He spoke passionately on how the father never gave up on his son even after the son had effectively told his father that he was dead to him. He spoke about his own children quoting one of the praise songs from the worship set, how there was no mountain he wouldn’t climb up or shadow he wouldn’t light up for his sons, no door he wouldn’t kick down, or no lie he wouldn’t tear down for his daughter.

Leo sat quietly listening fighting hard against the tears that welled behind his glasses. After a while he stopped fighting and just let the tears flow. His hands practically trembled as he cried silently in his seat. Addie noticed Leo wasn’t the only one in the room with tear stained faces. As he listened tears began to well up in his own amber eyes. Leo gave his hand a gentle squeeze. When Thomas finished the room was quiet only filled with sniffles as the middle-aged man from before came up to the stage.

“It certainly seems like every time Thomas gets up here we end up with no dry eyes in the room,” he said with a chuckle. Leo laughed as well nodded gently in agreement. “Now if everyone will bow your heads and close your eyes for a moment. If there’s anyone in here today that is thinking can God really love me like that? Can He really want me after everything I’ve done? Well I’m telling you right now He can, He does, and He will. No matter what you might have done God will always love you. Just like the father God is waiting there watching, hoping to see you coming from far off. So if there is anyone in here today that says I want in, just raise your hand and look up at me. No one is looking and all the Christians in here are praying for you. We’ll all stand up and say the prayer together.” He paused for a moment watching, waiting. “Oh, I see you, anyone else? We’re already going to say the prayer is there anyone else who says I want in?” He paused for another moment. “Okay well for the sake of that one, will you please stand and pray with me.”

The entire room rose to their feet and heads were bowed and eyes closed. The pastor began to speak again, this time the congregation echoing him. “Father God, I’ve sinned and that’s no surprise to you. I believe that You sent your son to die on the cross for my sins and that you raised him from the dead. Come into my heart Lord Jesus and I’ll live for You forever. in your name we pray, Amen.” There were cheers and applause for that person who had dedicated their life to God. The pastor said a short prayer over the congregation for the coming week before they were dismissed. As Leo and Addie made their way through the crowd Addie remained quiet but his mind was racing a million miles an hour as he pondered on everything. He definitely had some questions to ask Leo later.  

[madness-of-madi]

Finding a Constant: Part One

Word Count: 2,914

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Warnings: None

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously.  *muffled sobbing* 

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man. 

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, but I just really needed an outlet for my Marvel obsession, so here it is. Enjoy! ;)

................................................................................................................................

Amrita’s POV

School lunch had been the bane of my existence for a long time. Given that my parents moved at least twice a year, dragging me along with them, I never stayed at a school long enough to make close friends. Or if I did, I'd have to leave them behind in a few short months. So what was the point? I'd learned early on that it wasn't worth it; I could stop the vicious cycle by simply not being a part of it. But that meant that lunch was always hell on Earth for me.

I scanned the room for my normal seat, spotting the mostly empty table in the back. I began making my way through the throng of rowdy teenagers, narrowly avoiding an apple that sailed in my direction. Another student leaped up and caught it near my head.

“Sorry,” he said, not looking very contrite. I pursed my lips in acknowledgment and continued walking. While Midtown High was pretty large, it was by no means the biggest school I'd ever gone to. That title belonged to a school in California, one that I had been all too happy to leave behind.

Finally, I reached my seat at the end of a long table. I sat down with my lunch tray, doing my best to ignore the two boys sitting at the other end of the table. Every once in awhile, I'd catch one of them looking at me or speaking in hushed tones about me, but other than that, they normally just left me alone. Which I preferred.

There was one girl that sat right across from, with her nose in a book. Her messy brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, but half of it always fell out and shrouded part of her face. I recalled my first day here when I stumbled around the cafeteria looking for the table with the most vacant spots. I'd found this one, but both ends had been occupied like they were now. I'd taken one look at the chatting boys on one end and the silent girl on the other and chose wisely.

I began nibbling at my pizza, pulling a book out of my bag. I remembered at my last school, the smallish one in Ohio, they'd allowed the students to go off campus for lunch and I hadn't had to deal with any of this. I'd grab something from the lunch line and escape to one of the empty park benches outside. But no such luck here.

“Wuthering Heights, huh?” I jumped a bit at the voice—in the two weeks I'd been sitting across from her, the girl had never spoken a word. She'd nod at me on occasion, but never actually talk. Her voice was slightly deeper than I'd imagined.

“Yeah,” I answered once I'd overcome my shock. I'd read it before at one of my other schools, but Mrs. Han was expecting an essay on it within the week, so I was rereading it to prepare. But I didn't mind too much, considering Wuthering Heights was one of the classics that I sort of enjoyed reading.

She nodded, going back to the book in front of her. “What's Half the Sky?” I questioned on a whim. I suppose I wouldn't mind being on speaking terms with someone in this school.

She peered over the top of the pages and said, “It's a journalistic piece about the struggles women face around the world...ya know, sex trafficking, unequal opportunities, and the like.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Sounds interesting. Mind if I borrow it after you're done?”

She seemed to assess me as if checking if I was worthy of the book. Finally, she nodded. “My name's Michelle Jones, but my friends call me MJ,” she introduced herself. I shook her proffered hand, giving her a small smile as well.

“Nice to meet you, MJ,” I said. “I'm Amrita Delport, but I go by Rita.” She nodded again and we both went back to reading. I looked away from the page to take another bite and caught the two boys in my peripheral vision. I glanced over and both of them were staring intently at me and MJ. I quirked an eyebrow at them and the wiry one averted his eyes right away. The other, however, smiled and waved at me.

“I'm Ned!” He called down the table.

“Hi, Ned,” I said wearily, offering a half-hearted wave in response to his enthusiastic one.

“And this is Peter,” he said before I could look away. He gestured to his friend, who lifted his gaze a bit to direct a shy smile at me.

“Yeah, I'm Peter,” the second boy confirmed. I waved again and quickly turned back to my book.

Damn it, I thought. I'd gone two weeks without creating ties with anyone, and now that could be ruined. I just had to hope they wouldn't try to talk to me again. MJ was fine, seeing as she seemed just as reluctant to make friends as me. We had a few classes together and I knew she kept to herself mostly, either reading or sketching during lessons.

“Don't worry about them,” MJ said in a clear voice so that the two boys—Ned and Peter—could hear her words over their hushed conversation. “They're losers.”

“Then why do you sit with us?” Ned accused.

“Because I don't have any friends,” MJ replied. I smiled—I was beginning to like her. Peter huffed and returned to his lunch, chatting with his friend.

..........................................................................................

When seventh period came, I was more than ready to go home. Mrs. Han rambled on at the front of the room, explaining the intricate family trees of Wuthering Heights. I wasn't paying attention to her though, I was staring out the window at all of the buildings in the distance. New York City was one of the better cities I'd lived in. There were plenty of places to explore, which happened to be one of my favorite hobbies. The only advantage of having traveling journalists for parents was the opportunity for a new place to wander around every few months. Nothing ever got boring.

“Rita, do you know?” My name snapped me out of my reverie.

“No,” I answered after a second. This had happened to me on so many occasions, that I'd learned that it was best not to slur and stutter a nonsensical answer. That would only embarrass me further.

Mrs. Han put a hand on her hip and gave me a stern look. “Yes, you do. You just weren't paying attention to the question.” Any other teacher might have spared me the lecture, given me a disapproving glance, and moved on. But not Mrs. Han. She'd spoken to me on my first day, I'd made the mistake of telling her about my reading habit, and now she thought we had some sort of connection. Adults and their assumptions, I sighed.

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to end the conversation. Some of the students were starting to look back at me and I was begging Mrs. Han with my eyes to just move on. She gave me one last flick of her barely-there eyebrows and continued with the discussion. She was older than most of the teachers and she looked like it too, with her modest dresses and flat shoes. Her grey-streaked ebony hair was always tied up in a knot on top of her head. She was the image of strictness and her teaching style certainly didn't contradict it.

I was just about to shift my gaze back to the window when someone's eyes caught mine. It was the boy from lunch—Peter, that was his name. He was a row in front of me and a couple desks away, but that didn't seem to stop him from turning in his seat to stare at me. I raised my eyebrows as if to say What? His cheeks flushed but he managed a friendly smile before quickly looking away, just as he’d done earlier that day at lunch. I shook my head in dubiety but didn't bring my attention back to the window like I'd planned. Instead, I took the opportunity to observe Peter as he sat in his seat and listened to Mrs. Han talk.

He was of average height, but I had no doubt I'd still have to crane my neck a bit to look him in the eye. I was relatively short, only coming to about 5’4” on the tape measure, no matter how I contorted my spine or jutted out my chin. When I was younger, I remembered stuffing things in my shoes to give me a couple extra inches and trick my father. But it never worked. He would always hear the crinkle of crumpled-up paper in the heels of sneakers and order me to take them off before marking my height on the wall. I silently huffed at the memory.

Returning my attention to Peter, I noticed that I was wrong about my previous assumption that he was listening to Mrs. Han’s lecture. He kept fidgeting in his seat and glancing out the window as if he had somewhere to be. I continued to watch as he put a hand through the brown curls that fell across his forehead. I could even see his jaw clenching and unclenching on a loop, his fingers tapping out a beat on the surface of his desk.

Soon enough, I got bored watching Peter repeat the same nervous habits over and over again and completely spaced out. I began to wonder where I'd go tonight on my daily walk, but I was interrupted by the bell. Everyone stood up right away and funneled through the door, eager to break out of this prison. I took my time, gathering my books and sliding them into my bag. Just as I was walking out, Mrs. Han stopped me.

“Rita, come here for a second.” I reluctantly halted and made my way back to her desk. As soon as the stern glint entered her dark eyes, I knew I was not going to like what she had to say.

“Yes, Mrs. Han?”

“You're going to get more out of this class if you actually pay attention.” She got right to the point. I could respect that.

“Yes, you're probably right, but you see, I've already read the book at one of my other schools.”

“Even so, Miss Delport, you might find some of my points to be quite interesting…” At my disinterested look, she continued, “And quite helpful for the upcoming test.”

I gave her a small, close-lipped smile before nodding and saying, “I understand, Mrs. Han. I'll do better.” She raised her eyebrows at me, catching onto the slight insincerity in my tone. Unlike some of the other teachers, she saw straight through my empty politeness. “I promise,” I finally added.

Seeming to accept my answer this time, her lips widened into a smile the emphasized the crow’s feet at the corners of her upturned eyes. “Alright, go on then.” I waved and turned around to leave, but before I passed through the doorway, Peter caught my eye once again. He was still standing at his desk, rifling through his backpack. I could be wrong, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he had only been dawdling around to listen in on my conversation.

But perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

..........................................................................................

Half an hour later, I was standing before my apartment door, thumbing through the countless keys on my lanyard. I knew the sensible thing to do would be to get rid of the ones I no longer used, but they were some of the only souvenirs I had from all of my previous homes. I used colored stickers to denote which key went to which door, but I was starting to run out of the colors of the rainbow. I'd have to buy some pastels soon.

I finally spotted the green one and used it to unlock the door. I returned my lanyard to its side pocket on my backpack as I swung open the door.

“Is that you, Rita?” I was surprised by my mother's voice coming from her bedroom. Usually, she and dad didn't get home until around dinner time.

“Yeah, mom,” I called to her. I discarded my bag on the small dining room table and made my way over to the couch. I sank into the worn, red cushions that were so familiar to me. This couch was one of the only constants in my capricious life—everywhere we moved, I made sure this old piece of furniture had a spot in the back of the U-haul.

I might've closed my eyes to take a much-needed nap had my mother not come striding out of her room. Considering I was sprawled across the entire length of the sofa, she had to lift my feet before taking a seat. She made sure to pull off my clunky combat boots before setting them back down on her pristine pencil skirt.

“So, how's school going?” She said as she picked at some loose threads around the rips in my jeans.

“Oh, you'd better save that for the dinner table,” I mumbled. “Otherwise, you'll run out of questions during my nightly interrogation.”

My mother laughed. “You know your father and I just want to keep up with what's going on in your life. We've only got another two years left before you ditch us for college.” I scoffed at her.

“Where's dad?” I inquired.

“He's interviewing the CEO of Stark Industries right now, but he should be home before dinner.”

I hadn't forgotten about the big job my parents had moved us here for. They had been recruited to write this huge article about the Avengers—what about them, I had no idea. My parents refused to tell me anything beyond that, not even who hired them to write it. I'd begged them to let me come along to some of the interviews, but they'd been adamant about keeping me out of it. I'd just have to stick to dreaming about meeting Captain America or Thor...or iron Man...or Loki...or Hawkeye...the list goes on.

I stopped daydreaming long enough to realize my mother had asked me a question. One I hadn't heard. “Huh?”

“I just wanted to know how school is going. Your father and I know your grades are great, of course, but beyond that, we don't know anything. Have you made friends? Are the teachers nice? What about that pottery class you took? Are you learning anything new?”

I waited for the questions to stop before grumbling, “Not fun being left in the dark, eh?”

“Now, Rita,” she admonished, immediately realizing that I was referring to the article. “You know we aren't at liberty to discuss anything regarding that project. Even if we were, I still wouldn't take you along to my interview with Mr. Banner. I don't need you squealing in the background while I try to find the truth about—” She cut herself off, but she'd already piqued my attention.

“About what?” I prodded, sitting up on my elbows to give her an earnest look. But my mother only chuckled and shook her head at me. I sighed and slumped back in my seat.

“Now answer me, Rita. You make this so hard.”

“One of my many talents,” I drawled, but at her hard glare, I continued, “It's fine, mom. The teachers are nice and I like the pottery class. We've only been going over the basics thus far, but Mr. Karling mentioned some techniques I've never heard of.”

She nodded along, beaming at me. “And friends?”

I let out an exasperated sigh. I thought that if I just skipped over that one, she'd forget and move on, but I should've known better. My mother was a journalist and if someone was hiding something, she'd know it. “Yeah, the other students are nice. I talk to this one girl at lunch, MJ.” Given that we'd only spoken for the first time today, I didn't consider her to be a friend, but my mother didn't need to know that.

“That's great, hon. I hope to meet her before…” she trailed off.

“Before we move again,” I finished for her. Honestly, it didn't even bother me all that much anymore, but I knew my parents felt guilty about my abnormal childhood.

My mother nodded in a resigned way before getting up and walking to the kitchen. I quietly watched as she started to prepare dinner, the clang of pots and pans the only sound in the apartment. Usually, she only cooked on the weekends and we'd live off of leftovers throughout the week, but she must have gotten off early today.

“I'm going to go for a walk,” I blurted, getting to my feet and shrugging my boots back on.

“Be careful, Rita. Do you have your pepper spray?” She looked up from the water she was boiling to give me an expectant look.

“Of course, Mom.” I grabbed the messenger bag that I usually carried with me. I rifled through it and checked that the pepper spray was still in the outside pocket. It was.

I grabbed my keys, phone, and book from my backpack and walked through the door, locking the handle on the way. Right before it snicked shut, my mother called, “Be home by 7!”

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 9: Electric

So Let It Out and Let It In

General / Rock Star!Dean & Cellist!Castiel / destiel if you squint / 2,300 words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Dean Winchester, bundled in a ratty hoodie with dark sunglasses and a ball cap, kept his head down as he trailed behind the gaggle of people surrounding his brother. It was as close to a real campus tour as the kid was going to get with Dean tagging along, and Sam, stubborn as always, insisted that Dean accompany him. Not that Dean didn’t want to, he just knew what a liability his presence was.

As they passed what the recruiter called The Oval, Dean could hear his latest single blaring from a portable speaker somewhere on the lawn. A few of the campus guides turned to glance at him, and he pretended not to notice. This was Sam’s day.

Sam craned his neck, looking over his shoulder and grinning, jabbing a subtle finger towards the lawn and tapping an ear. Dean pulled his sunglasses down so the kid could see him roll his eyes then flicked his fingers, bidding him focus. A young blond fell into step next to him.

“Is it still exciting hearing yourself on the radio?”

Dean didn’t look at her. “Never gets old.” Conversations like this, however….

“I’m… I’m sure you get this a lot but I really love you music. When they asked for volunteers to help you tour the campus-”

“My brother,” Dean cut her off, still not looking at her. “My brother is touring the campus. Sam graduated high school with a 4.5 GPA despite never setting foot in a classrom, Idn’t that right Sammy?” Dean kicked his foot out, managing to hit his brother right on the ass.

Sam stumbled and glared over his shoulder at his brother, reaching up a hand to flatten the hair that flopped into his eyes. “It’s Sam. Sammy’s a chubby twelve year old with acne.”

Dean chuckled, but it died in his throat as he felt the girl loop her arm through his casually. “Stanford is a good choice. Close enough to L.A. for frequent visits.”

“Sam hates L.A. I double he’ll be visiting.” Dean slipped his arm free and took a few quick steps to fall in line next to Sam, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Lotta beautiful women here,” Dean made a point to check out a girl as she ran past, hearing the blond behind him huff.

Sam looked over his shoulder and glared, elbowing Dean in the ribs gently. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean, this might interest you..” One of the student ambassadors piped up, and Dean took in a measured breath, trying very hard not to be annoyed. “Bing Concert Hall. Our music department is-”

“Sam’s pre-law,” Dean replied sharply, and the group stopped, looking at each other and then at the ground.

“I like music though,” Sam said after a moment and then chuckled. “Obviously. Can we go in?”

“Sam-“

“Dean, after seeing you play on every stage on the face of the planet I cannot spend four years at a venue with shitty acoustics.”

Dean’s mouth popped open as the rest of the group laughed and moved up the steps chattering about different concerts they’d seen and where they’d seen them. Dean scurried after, catching the massive door before it closed in his face, grumbling to himself as he listened to Sam relay the various places around the world Dean had played and argued the merits of their acoustical properties. The kid couldn’t play an instrument to save his life or carry a tune in a bucket, but he could wax poetic on tonality and sound quality with the best of them.

They were in the lobby, getting the rundown on the types of events held there when something buzzed at the back of Dean’s neck right along his hairline. A tune, barely audible where he stood though he was sure he heard it and found himself wandering towards the sound, pulling off his sunglasses when it became too dark to see.

One door in a set that led into the auditorium was ajar, and Dean slipped through the crack, removing his hood and then his hat to avoid the potential creek of the door. He ran a hand through his hair to tame it, moving to stand at the top of the steps and taking in the vineyard style concert hall. A group of four young cellists was seated on the first riser of the sunken stage as an older man, perhaps a professor, paced languidly in front of them, arm crossed over his chest with the elbow of his other resting against it, a finger to his lips as he listened.

Thanks to his father, Dean grew up on the likes of Zepplin and AC/DC, Eric Clapton and Queen, Black Sabbath, and Bad Company, and that was the type of music he made. Rock and Roll that surged from his fingers through his black Stratocaster, Baby, and out the amplifier at the same time it brewed in his belly and wailed its way past his vocal cords.

But his mother, Dean paused to smile at her memory, fuzzy now after nearly 18 years gone, had been connoisseur, not a purist, and her voice, clear and high as she sang “Hey Jude” until he fell asleep, was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. Standing there, in an overly bright concert hall gave him a strange sense of vertigo as if the present were meeting the past. Listening to that familiar melody being wrung out of the strings made him feel like if he were to turn around right then, he would see her face, smiling and mouthing the words.

Dean wasn’t aware that his feet were carrying him down the stairs as the bridge crescendoed into the coda, and the swell made him feel full to the bursting point. He was also oblivious to the fact that the professor, who had been pacing in front of the quartet, had now stopped, his eyes trained on Dean as his head tipped to the side, curious. Dean felt almost robbed when the coda only went for two rounds, a tear tracking down his cheek as the song came to a close in a bright swell before dying away to silence. He stared unblinking, unaware that the professor held out his hand, bidding his students remain in their seats as he approached the young man.

Dean’s cloudy vision was suddenly filled with blue eyes, the color of a deep ocean, and a brow crinkled in concern, full lips set in a grim line. Dean felt a hand rest on his shoulder, and the instinct to jerk back at a stranger’s touch seemed to have gone missing. Dean was acutely aware of the breath passing in and out of his lungs, the scratchy sound it made, and the wildly out of sync metronome of his heart. On some base level, he understood that he was probably having a panic attack, but something about the gentle rumble of the professor’s voice and the warmth of his hand on his bicep allowed him to hold it together.

“Holy shit that’s Dean Winchester!” The exclamation paired with the break in eye contact as the professor turned to look over his shoulder made Dean jump. The first cellist stared at them in awe.

Dean reached up to wipe his face, swallowing hard, and he was a heartbeat away from turning his heel to run when the professor’s eyes met his again, still impossibly blue and his expression still holding cautious concern.

“Your name is Dean?” The professor asked, his voice like thunder in the distance, and Dean found himself nodding as he blinked, and two more tears tracked down his face, bringing the professor into perfect clarity.

He did jump when the professor brought up a handkerchief and dabbed the wetness away, the gesture so tender despite the matter-of-fact way he’d done it as if it were just what you did when world-famous rock stars crashed your rehearsal blubbering over their dead mothers. Dean tried to take a step back, but the professor followed him.

“I’m Castiel Novak. I teach Cello. Are you a student?” Dean snorted, and Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“Y-yeah, man.” Dean brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. “Yeah, I’m… shit I’m sorry.”

Castiel’s chuckle was accompanied by a squeeze of his fingers around Dean’s bicep that made Dean almost shiver. “Not a problem. I’m certainly flattered the arrangement induced such a visceral reaction. Are you a musician?”

A chorus of “OH MY GOD PROFESSOR!” “ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME?” And “Of course he has no idea who he is.” sounded behind him, making him frown and crane his neck as Dean let out a sharp snort of laughter that he had to cover his mouth to deaden. The professor turned to look at him again, and Dean allowed his face to settle into the thousand-yard smolder he deployed for interviews and album covers. Castiel merely blinked.

“Dean?”

Dean turned at the sound of his brother’s voice wafting from the top of the steps, and Sam was trotting down at a quick clip, face set in a frown as he jerked Dean out of the professors grasp.

“Can we help you?” Sam nearly snarled, and Castiel’s eyebrows raised, his arms crossing over his chest as he stretched himself to his full height though Sam was still a good five inches taller. When his eyes narrowed, turning from flat calm to a budding tempest, however, Dean saw Sam swallow hard.

“Since you came barging in to my rehearsal I feel that I should be directing that question at you?”

“We’re sorry,” Dean said, immediately grabbing Sam’s arm as Sam craned his neck to look at the cellists who were all filming the exchange and asked, “What rehearsal?” At the exact same time.”

“Sam we’re gonna be late for your meeting with the Law School we should go.” Dean tried to tug Sam away, but his moose of a brother wouldn’t budge.

“You’re law students?” Castiel asked, and another groan sounded behind him, making him jump. Sam looked absolutely delighted.

“I’m a prospective student and this is my brother.” Sam wrestled Dean under his arm and forced him to face the professor again, his eyes rolling as he shifted from foot to foot. “He’s a musician.”

Castiel’s eyebrows raised. “What instrument.”

“Oh god I can’t take it.” A student stood, handing their instrument to the person next to them to balance while they stepped over, tapping away on their phone. “Here. This is him.”

Dean cringed as the new single, tinny and shallow, emitted from the phone speakers while the cinegraph of him looking to the side then straight into the camera to give a slow blink before his lips parted in a hitched breath began to loop. Castiel stared down at the phone for several bars before his eyes flicked to Dean’s face and then down again to watch the cinegraph loop a few more times. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t listen to a lot of popular music. Forgive me.”

Dean waved a hand, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “Don’t worry about it man you’ve got what matters.” Dean nodded at the cellists, who was beaming at him. “The Beatles trump me every time.”

“Well I am rather fond of ‘Hey Jude’” Castiel gave Dean a small smile, and Dean felt like he was witnessing something rare and beautiful.

“Wait…” Sam held out a hand, keeping Castiel in his peripheral as he turned to look at Dean. “Hey Jude Hey Jude? Like Mom used to sing?”

Dean felt his cheeks grow hot and knew he must be red as a tomato right about then, exacerbated by the penetrating look Castiel was giving him. Dean reached up to scratch his ear as he looked at the ground and nodded. He felt Sam shift excitedly next to him.

“Can I hear it?”

“Sam!” Dean said sharply, and Castiel’s head tipped to the side in confusion as Sam sighed.

“Come on, Dean! Clearly it was good or you wouldn’t look like you swallowed a slug.” Sam looked to Castiel and offered his hand. “Sam Winchester, pre-law. Don’t mind him he’s emotionally constipated.”

“Fuck you, Sam.” Dean whacked him hard upside the head, and Sam lanced him with his most potent bitchface.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear it.” Sam looked from Castiel to the cellists who were already putting their phones away and settling in their seats. “Our mother, she-”

“He don’t wanna hear my tragic origin story, Sammy,” Dean muttered out the side of his mouth.

“-passed when I was one and Dean was four.”

Dean was still amazed that Sam could rattle that off without so much as a stutter. Then again, Sam hadn’t gotten a chance to know their mother. She’d never held him after a nightmare or made him chicken and rice soup when he was sick. Dean had been the one to do all those things for him. Just as Dean had been the one to sing him “Hey Jude” every night before he went to sleep when Sam was little.

“Is that alright with you, Dean?”

Castiel’s voice interrupted his brooding, and Dean found himself once again a little starry-eyed under that stare. Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth, hoping it hid his blush. “Uh, yeah fine with me.”

Castiel eyed him skeptically, and Dean felt as if he were being x-rayed, every thought and emotion laid bare under the older man’s concerned gaze. Dean didn’t even jump when Castiel’s hand closed around his wrist, giving it a light squeeze before he turned to the quartet.

“Okay, from the top, please.”

[fireflysummers]

Mob Psycho 100 Fanfiction

Text to Speech Translation Error

Direct sequel to "And Maybe...Some Things Are That Simple"

After half a decade away from Seasoning City, Teru has a lot of catching up to do. Unfortunately, some people are less than welcoming. Turns out, there's a reason why.

Part of The World Keeps Turning series

When they meet again, it’s at Spirits and Such. The smell of stale cigarette smoke and incense that assaults him the minute the door opens brings with it such an intense nostalgia that it stops Teru in his tracks. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced before, but it brings with it a tide of memories of a lonely young boy, looking for anything to fill the emptiness of an afternoon, weekend, summer. Memories of being wanted. Memories of being safe.

Teru doesn’t realize that there are tears pricking at his eyes until he sees Reigen, clicking away on his laptop, as if he’d never once moved in all the years he’d been gone.

“Oh, hello Mob,” Reigen says, looking up as the door chime announces their arrival, “This is unexpected. Who’s your friend?”

Teru swears he feels his heart drop into his shoes, but the moment is short. The old con artist squints at him from behind a pair of square-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose, and Teru can visibly see the question shift into recognition. Warm relief spreads through him as Reigen pulls himself up, still squinting incredulously over the edge of his glasses.

“Hanazawa?” he asks, as Teru crosses the distance of the small room to greet his old father figure mentor, “What the hell did you do to your ears?  How many holes did you poke in them to get all those earrings in there?”

Teru can’t help but chuckle, clasping Reigen’s hand. Then, succumbing to instinct, Teru pulls the older man into a tight hug.

“Careful, careful now you youngster! You’re gonna break these old bones!” Reigen splutters, but leans into the contact, returning with a hug just as tight. Teru never quite reached Reigen’s height, but for once can’t bring himself to care. He instead revels in the smell of smoke and stale sweat, the feeling of hair tickling his face, the feeling of being safe.

“Welcome home, my boy,” Reigen says, after they break apart, “You planning on staying long?”

Teru swipes at his face with the palm of his hand, grinning despite the clear evidence of moisture on his cheeks. “Forever, Master Reigen. If I can.”

Behind them, he swears he can feel Kageyama smilling.

 The next time is in response to an open invitation from Kageyama, who offered to tour Teru around his office.  He jumps at the chance to tour around the halls of his alma mater, Paprika University, and make a few calls to former professors before going on to meet Kageyama at the designated rendezvous.

It’s incredible, he realizes, how little the halls mean to him. They had been just another stepping stone on this cyclical path of his, with no great affinity for any one location or person. Compared to his feelings upon returning to Spirits and Such, the entire campus feels…hollow.

Except not so much, because now it’s more than just a place he once attended. Now it’s Kageyama’s place, and he wonders if he would feel the other’s aura seeping into the brickwork, should he focus.

“Hey, Haystack!”

Teru startles, and turns to see a dark haired woman approaching him at breakneck pace. For a moment he struggles to place her, but there are a limited number of people who knew him from the haystack days, and even fewer who would dare ever mention it.

“Ah, hello there Kurata-san,” he says, trying to smile pleasantly as the woman bears down on him with the full weight of her personality.  She’s glowering at him, looking ready to spit nails.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” she demands, but before Teru can open his mouth she continues, “And that’s Professor Kurata, to you, you no good air-headed bimbo.”

It takes Teru about a second and a half longer than it should have to recover from the verbal assault. Kurata continues to glare, and this combined with the fact that she has the gall to be taller than him by a couple centimeters, actually irks him. Despite this, Teru does his best to give a good-natured chuckle and grin up at her.

“I didn’t realize that the grounds of my alma mater were off-limits to me,” he says, giving one of his most blinding smiles. It, of course, fails to phase Kurata in the least bit.

“You know as well as I do that that’s not what I’m—”

“Hello Tome-chan.” Neither of them had heard Kageyama approach, and yet there he stands, looking entirely nonplussed at the way his two friends glare at each other.

“Oi, Mob,” Kurata says, placing a hand on Teru’s shoulder in what could have been a friendly gesture. “I just found this lost child wandering about and wanted to know if you needed me to escort him to his next class. Or like. Off the campus. Or to another planet. We have a mutual telepath friend with a record of alien contact, so I could get that arranged.”

Kageyama gives her a fond, albeit strained smile. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you though.”

“You’re sure about that?” Kurata prods, the grip on Teru’s shoulder tightening.

“Yes. Don’t worry, he’s my guest.”

The pair share a tense moment that leaves Teru drowning in the lack of context. Eventually, though, Kurata gives out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping.

“’Kay, if you say so,” she mutters, releasing her grip on Teru, and patting him on the shoulder twice in a conciliatory manner. “But if you need anything, just holler.”

With that, she stomps off in search of her next victim, or so Teru assumes. At this point in his life, he has fought off all manner of evil spirits and megalomaniacal espers, but he can’t quite recall ever being that terrified.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, when he’s sure that she’s out of earshot.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” Kageyama replies, crow’s feet appearing between his eyebrows as he frowns slightly. “At least. Not anymore. We worked it out.”

Teru hums noncommittally in response, keenly aware that he’s missing a lot of context here. That said, he really isn’t in a place to demand to be filled in. After all, it seems that the good Professor Kurata has been looking out for Kageyama, while he’s been off doing whatever it is he’s been doing.  Still. The entire thing has left him off-kilter.

“Hanazawa-kun.” Kageyama interrupts his thoughts. “I have a little while before my next meeting, so I’d be happy to show you my lab now.”

Kageyama’s face is…precious. Teru can’t think of any other way to describe it, even as he feels his heart leap into his throat. There’s trepidation there, excitement and anxiety swirling just under the other’s calm façade.  It’s the kind of expression, Teru knows, that his old friend only wore when he was making himself especially vulnerable—sharing a piece of himself that was both precious and private.

The confusion that he’d felt towards Kurata fades away, leaving Teru only with a slight pang of jealousy. She has, after all, gotten to see this side of Kageyama for years.

But again, he doesn’t have anybody to blame but himself. He just hopes she knows how lucky she is.

 This time, Teru finds himself seated at the table in the kitchen of the Kageyama family home. Both brothers had lived away for some time, Kageyama had explained, but after establishing himself at the local university the parents had asked him to move back in. At the moment, they were off traveling, happy to know that their house was being cared for by their eldest son.

“It’s a bit lonely,” Kageyama concludes, “Which is why I’m glad that you and Ritsu were able to join me for dinner.”

“We don’t see each other enough, brother,” Ritsu replies, sincerely as far as Teru can tell. They’re seated across from each other, around the worn wooden table.

“It’s your home too, you know,” Kageyama chides. He’s in the kitchen, finishing whatever meal he’s worked to prepare for them. His request that guests remain seated is being honored, but not without a great deal of tension crackling between the two.  If Kageyama notices, he doesn’t mention it.

“So,” Teru says, grabbing hopelessly at conversation topics. He’d thought he and Ritsu had made their peace years ago, but clearly he’s done something to mess that up again. Despite his best efforts though, he can’t figure out exactly why the other man continues to glare at him whenever Kageyama’s turned back to cooking.

It’s disconcerting. But on the other hand, it’s kind of nice to see that the younger brother hasn’t changed all that much.  Sure, he’s taller (even moreso than his brother, which definitely makes Teru the shortest of the squad), has changed his haircut into something short and prickly, and has quite a few more worry lines, but he’s definitely the same middle school student that had challenged him in the street all those years ago.

Still. They make it to the actual dinner part without lighting anything on fire. That’s definitely a win.

However, the moment that Kageyama has finished setting the table with the variety of food that he’s prepared, a cell phone goes off. It’s an old meme song, high pitched and obnoxious, and Ritsu goes for his pocket with a sigh.  Kageyama doesn’t seem bothered at all that their dinner had been interrupted, waiting patiently as Ritsu grumbles into the phone.

(Seriously dude? I’m chilling with my brother today, I told you that. What do you mean an emergency, what the hell did you do? Okay, okay, just…try not to bleed out until I get there.)

By the time Ritsu is standing, heading for the door, Kageyama has already beat him there, offering his younger brother two portions of dinner to take with him.

“For little brother Shou, when you rescue him,” Kageyama says, words barely loud enough for Teru to hear. “Be safe, Ritsu.”

And then the younger brother is gone, vanishing out the door with his spiky aura flaring behind him.

And Teru is alone with Kageyama.

They sit quietly to eat, silence punctuated by the clack of chopsticks as Teru contemplates what to say next. When he’s absolutely certain that Kageyama is not trying to formulate words of his own, and that he won’t interrupt, Teru clears his throat.

“So…little brother’s job at the bank seems to have gotten more dangerous than I’d have thought.”

Kageyama cracks a worried smile. “Ah well. He hasn’t worked there for three years now. He’s running his own business.”

“Seriously?” Teru asks, flabbergasted. Business running is his shtick, after all. “With a sour disposition like his?”

“It’s not really his business,” Kageyama informs him with a chuckle, “It’s Suzuki’s. Ritsu just signed on as a partner.” He chews his food slowly. “Oh, ah. They’re consultants. For the government.”

Well. That is a bit more interesting than Teru had imagined. And it makes that phone call less mysterious but significantly more worrying.

He decides instead to change the topic.

“You’ve gotten better,” Teru muses. “At explaining things.”

“It’s a work in progress.” His friend is still frowning down at his food. “But you learn a lot, from being a teacher. I’m still not particularly good at it. If I was better, then I suppose you’d be having an easier time right now.”

“An easier time?” Teru asks, the words coming slowly as though he’s tiptoeing on thin ice.

“Mmhmm.” Kageyama finally looks up at him, brows drawn into an anxious frown. “I suppose I have to apologize for that. For the way that others are treating you, since you got back.”

“You mean that wasn’t just my charming personality?”

“No, although it is very charming,” Kageyama continues, “They just don’t believe me, when I tried to explain that you didn’t understand my confession to you, a couple months ago.”

It takes Teru three beats to realize he’s stopped breathing.

 (If anybody were to ask Hanazawa Teruki if he was in love with Kageyama Shigeo, he would tell them the truth: Of course.

But the fact was that nobody asked him. Sure, lots of people knew, given how much he failed in subtlety, but nobody asked. And so, Teru was content never to say a word.

It was too much of a risk, ruining the relationship they had over feelings that he was certain would never be returned.)

“What?” Teru manages to stammer. They’ve been sitting there, in awkward silence. The spoon in Kageyama’s hand is curling rapidly, twisting and untwisting while its owner looks away, ears tipped with pink.

(He’s rewinding now, rewinding to the text messages that he’d left unanswered for three solid months: Are you coming home after? I’ve missed you.)

“I know,” he says at length, still not looking at Teru, “It was a mistake, on my part. I’ve gotten better at communicating, but ah…well. I made a mess of things on my end. I misinterpreted your silence for a rejection, which was why I was so glad when you wanted to meet again.”

(A confession. That had been a confession. And Teru had left him hanging for literal months, thinking that he had been cut off.)

“I don’t…ahm. I don’t know if you would be interested, and if you’re not, then please disregard all this, but I thought it would be best if…” Kageyama swallows visibly, “Hanazawa, I really, really like you. Would you…would you go out with me?”

He’s left no room for the confession to be mistaken for anything else, Teru realizes as his brain finally catches up to the moment. And then that traitorous part of his mind follows it up with, he sounds like a high schooler.

Looks like one too. The nervous earnestness in Kageyama’s face, the way he clutches both hands together in front of him—for all that he’s grown in the past years, he’s still Kageyama.

The realization crashes down on Teru with a flood of relief.

“Kageyama-kun…” Teru says, then stops himself, “Shigeo. I…I’m…”

There are so many words bubbling to the surface right now, in the slurry of emotions that he hadn’t expected. And yet, in all the pomp and glitter that he uses to disguise his true persona, Teru manages to pull on the single truth he knows better than anything.

“I’m sorry.” The words form in a croaked whisper and hang in the kitchen. “I’m not good enough for you.”

He curls in on himself, arms wrapped tight around his middle, fighting off the feeling that he wants to be violently ill. The entire world feels like it’s swaying, turning on an axis and leaving him to try to find the middle ground. But there’s no battle strategy for this, the one outcome he never dared imagine. All there is, is honesty, because Shigeo deserves that much.

“Me too,” he manages to say, eyes screwed tight and blood pounding in his ears, “I fell in love with you…I don’t know. Forever ago? You changed my life. And I can’t…I can’t repay that. I don’t deserve anything else from you.”

There are hands on his face, gentle, so gentle, guiding it. Teru doesn’t dare open his eyes, terrified for what he’ll see. Terrified at the thought that Shigeo can see him—all his selfishness, ever ugly secret he’s ever tried to hide, ever appetite he’s ever tried to curb, and all the failures he’s experienced in the process. Terrified that once he’s seen for what he is, Shigeo will leave.

“It’s okay,” he hears Shigeo murmur, “I don’t think I’m that good either.  Do you think…do you think that perhaps we can try, though?”

Teru opens his eyes, and is greeted by Shigeo, crouching beside him, eyes so soft, so gentle…so hopeful.

And suddenly, Teru knows without a shadow of the a doubt, that Shigeo has always seen him. From their very first encounter, he has always seen Teru, and never recoiled in disgust. And he sees him now.

It’s more terrifying, Teru realizes belatedly, to be seen for who he really is, and be loved.

He knows what to do with rejection. This, however, is totally new.

Frighteningly new, and…exciting. Hopeful.

“Yes,” he croaks, “I would very much like that, Shigeo.”