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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 8 months

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Accidentally Finding Family (Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC, PARENTAL

Characters: Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: HYDRA, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, mention of death of family, mention of amputation

Request: Hi can I request a teen reader where she is kind of like Bucky and is a hydra agent that is from the 40s and the team finds her in a base in cryofreeze and Steve and Bucky help her learn to adjust to the future and maybe Bucky helps her deal with nightmares? Or maybe she also has a metal arm and he helps her become less insecure about it idk. Also she ends up seeing Steve and Bucky as parental figures with cute family bonding? Sorry if that’s all over the place!

“Do you have any goals you have in mind for the next year or so? Next five years?” The question, targeted at Bucky, was being asked by his therapist. A few months ago, Bucky wasn’t sure what he would have answered with. A few months ago, Bucky was still filled with grief of a life lost, a life tainted with torture, his memories torn and ripped to shreds with only little fragments he could make out. But Bucky had done a hell of a lot of healing since rejoining his best friend. With therapy, Steve and Wanda’s help, those shreds of his past were being sewn back together, he’d come to accept that while his past is something he’d never fully recover from, he was still in possession of a young body, ready to try to live the life he actually wanted to live before HYDRA. A life with his new friends, and his one old one. He was ready to look into the future.

He sat back, relaxing into the settee, thinking to himself, before he let his thoughts leave his mouth. “A family.” He started. He looked over at his therapist, who smiled, nodding and notioning him to elaborate. “I loved looking after my little sister before the war. I loved looking out for Steve when he was still a punk… I think it’s always been a part of me to want to look after and care for people. Biological or adopted… the idea of having a child, someone to look after, someone to care for, be there for… to be needed by someone… I’d like that.”

“That’s definitely a doable goal I think. I think you’re finally in a place where you’d be able to be a caregiver. If you want to be sure, there are volunteering positions to help people at events- young children, camps for teenagers, so on, so forth. There’s also courses to give people more skills and knowledge on raising children that I can enrol you in?” She suggested. Bucky agreed. Not long after all of that, the session ended, and Bucky began his walk back to base to see if anyone had heard from the rest of the team yet. Almost all of the Avengers- except Bruce- had gone out on a mission. Originally he had been meant to go himself, but when the team found out that he had a session booked the same day and he might not make it, they removed him from it, knowing that his healing is far more important than another gun on their already overpowered team.

About halfway through the walk, was when his phone in his pocket buzzed repeatedly. He felt it easily, and he pulled the phone out, seeing Steve’s name on the front, and he answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey Steve, I’m on my way back now, are you already back?” He asked Steve, continuing his walk.

“Bucky I need to ask you a serious question and I need you to answer me to the best of your ability.” Steve’s serious tone made Bucky freeze on the side of the street. His eyes darted around the busy streets, finding a corner that was silent and hidden in shadows, and dashing over to it, before answering Steve.

“Alright. Ask away.” Bucky answered.

“Do you know of any other Winter Soldiers?” Steve asked, and immediately Bucky’s heart thudded.

“N-No. Wait, did you find more?” Bucky asked.

“We don’t know… she’s a kid, Buck.” Steve answered. Bucky wanted to be sick, his mind already racing on what exactly they had found. A girl, a young girl, a child, according to Steve. And from whatever information and evidence they had found, it was enough to point them back to the Winter Soldier program and him. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

“Is she alive?”

“Yeah. Yeah she’s alive, we’re trying to treat her for a few injuries, but we’re having issues… James I think… she’d really benefit with you being here.” He told his best friend. That seemed odd to Bucky. He was a mythical monster to the other weapons of HYDRA, used to scare them into obeying, and he had no doubt that stories of him, even after he had escaped, would have been used to bring fear, especially to children. Still, he trusted Steve and his judgement.

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.” Bucky answered shortly, hanging up, and his once leisurely stroll back to base, turned into a long sprint marathon.

He arrived back in less than 20 minutes, finding Natasha already waiting for him, her motioning for him to follow her. “How did you find her?” He asked her.

“They realised we were attacking them and raised the alarm, and seemingly let her loose with some of their other agents to try and slow us down. That didn’t happen though.” Natasha explained, power walking through the base.

“What do you mean it didn’t happen?” Bucky asked.

“She turned on them. She killed several of the guards and scientists herself and we found her in the process of trying to kill the head researcher. He’s getting medical care- it’s 50/50 whether he’ll live or not, not that I really care. After we stopped her, she surrendered to us, but she’s not talking and won’t let anyone touch her. We really don’t want to restrain her Buck, since that will undoubtedly make her worse, but I realised she was bleeding from her leg and we think she’s been shot but we can’t treat her.” Natasha explained, stopping at a door, and finally turning to him.

“How can I help with this? If anything, she’s going to have heard about me and become terrified.” He questioned, her features softening into a sad smile.

“Can you take your jacket off and your glove? So she can see it?” She asked. Bucky’s eyes darted down to his arm, flexing his robotic fingers, before looking up at Natasha, unsure and confused. “We’ll introduce you, just… be as soft and kind as possible with her, okay? Trust me.” She asked. Bucky sighed, and with some hesitance, he removed his glove, shoving it into his jacket pocket, before pulling his jacket off, leaving him with just his short sleeve shirt, his arm on full display. Bucky nodded to her, and she opened the door, stepping in and aside to let him in.

“Come on kiddo, I promise it’ll be over before you know it.” Bucky walked into the scene of Tony trying to talk to you, offering a small bag of fruity snacks, though you kept your head down and totally ignored his presence beside you. Bruce was on the other side of you, looking lost on what he can do without making anything worse. Steve was leant against the nearby wall, spotting Bucky and Nat first, and he stood up straight. Bucky glanced at him, before properly looking at you, and when he did, he understood.

You were sitting on the medical bed, legs stretched out, your head low, and your arms hugged against your body. Your arms were what Bucky hyper fixated on. They were metal, both of them, all the way up to the shoulders. You had tucked your arms to the best of your ability under the thin blanket that already had a growing blood stain where one of your legs were. Bucky wasn’t sure what had happened to you that meant you had to have both your arms amputated and replaced by robotic ones, or even if there was a reason or if they just did that, but that didn’t matter right now. You were clearly uncomfortable with them being seeing, and your hatred for being touched was something that Bucky empathised with.

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Steve spoke up, making Tony and Bruce turn as well, and after a moment, Bucky watched as your eyes also looked up to see who was there, and met his. He was convinced he’d see you flinch, be terrified, and he would make this whole situation worse, but then your eyes left his, and fell onto his arm, and he watched you relax. You actually relaxed in his presence. That immediately made Bucky relax as well as he slowly stepped closer. Tony moved out of his way so he could be by your side.

“English?” Bucky clarified and you nodded at him. “Alright. I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky. I know better than anyone how scary this all is, and how you probably really don’t want anyone prodding or poking at you anymore.” He spoke softly, keeping eye contact with you. He caught in the corner of his eye that you raised one arm from under the sheets, hesitantly reaching for him, specifically his metal arm. He reached out as well, carefully taking your metal arm in his, and your eyes stared at his arm, as the metal sheets slid and moved to adjust, similar to your own, before you looked back at him.

“They hurt you too?” You asked quietly. Bucky swallowed hard, knowing who ‘they’ were, and he nodded.

“Lost it originally from falling out of a train, but they kidnapped me and did this… my friends have helped me adjust, and they want to help you too.” He explained to you.

“They…” You hesitated, looking down at your hand holding his, before continuing. “They took mine. I don’t know why. They just did.” You explained to him, and Bucky nodded along, listening to you while also clenching his jaw, trying not to cry. Trying not to squeeze your hand on accident because of his anger.

“They were wrong for doing that, they were pure evil, and I promise you, you’re safe now, and they can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” He smiled reassuringly. “As soon as we tend to that bullet wound, we’ll get you settled in, you can start school, be a normal teenager, or as normal as you can be, how does that sound?” He asked, and after a lot of hesitation, you nodded, and with Bucky holding your hand, you allowed Bruce to tend to your wound.

You didn’t talk to anyone for the first week, other than Bucky, but slowly started talking to the others as time passed. They got you situated in one of the bedrooms on base, but after FRIDAY reported you kept hiding under the bed or locking yourself on purpose in the bathroom and sleeping on the cold tile floor, Bucky made the suggestion to move you into a smaller space. He didn’t have to go into detail when explaining you weren’t used to sleeping on a nice warm bed in a giant room, and how it probably felt alien and wrong to sleep there. Tony didn’t have any rooms that were smaller that could function as a bedroom, and it was Steve who suggested you move into an apartment with one of them, that someone clearly being Bucky. Bucky, like showing up to see you in the first place, wasn’t sure about that idea- worried he’d have a relapse with his nightmares and scare you, but he trusted Steve. Tony paid for an upgraded apartment- a two bedroom in brooklyn, still a small walk away from Steve if he was needed, and Bucky moved all his stuff in before they moved you in.

“This is the place.” Bucky told you, opening the door to the apartment, and you cautiously stepped inside, looking around. Bucky didn’t have a lot of things, so other than a bookshelf crammed with books, an old radio, the bulky television and some photos before the war on one wall and another wall of photos from after escaping HYDRA. James wasn’t sure how you’d react to all this, so he watched you diligently. He walked around, leaning on a wall, just watching you. He saw your eyes look around, before you spotted his old radio- one that was close replica to the ones before the war- and you seemed to relax, before walking over to it, gingerly touching it, before turning it on, tuning it a little, seemingly disappointed at the radio station, before looking around, and spotting the pre-war photographs, and walked over, looking at them, and smiling. “You like them?” Bucky asked, walking over slowly.

“They remind me of before the war.” You commented, before seeming to think and turning to him quickly. “Are you from before the war too?” You asked him. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together.

“Are you? Y/N, what year did they take you?” He demanded.

“1940… 1945? I think? The war was still on…” You explained to him, looking back at the photos, spotting him in his uniform. “You were a sergeant?”

“Y/N.” Bucky stepped closely, gently grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “You were kidnapped by HYDRA before the war? You were frozen?” He asked. You nodded. Bucky hated that. He hated that there was yet another thing you shared with him. Metal arms, HYDRA, lives before the war, being weapons, and thrust into a new world. He’d long accepted that it’s just his life now, but that it happened to you? A kid? He hated it. “Y/N… What do you remember about your life before the war?” He asked.

You talked for hours. Sitting down on the couch, you just talked about all you remembered, bits and pieces, sometimes certain memories popping up from talking and you’d interrupt yourself just to talk about them. You told him about your parents, your dad being in the army, your mom working in a factory where they made ammunition and ballistics, where unfortunately an accident happened with fire and an explosion, and your mother was killed, leaving you alone for a period of time with your dad other seas and unable to return, and no other family to care for you, before you were sent to go live with a foster family until after the war. That family were actually HYDRA. You didn’t know what happened to your dad, if he survived the war, and if he did, if he looked for you or if he was told you had died and he moved on, maybe had a new family. Maybe you had a step mother, half siblings, maybe you were an aunt now… but you didn’t know. Bucky took the time to text your dad’s name and rank in the war to Natasha and ask her to look into him, and she responded an hour later with an obituary, and a date of death and cause. Killed in action. Bucky told you the news softly, and it was then you stopped talking. You sat there for a period of time, just processing what he had said, and Bucky remained sat there, waiting for you.

“...I’m alone, aren’t I?” You finally spoke up. “I’ve lost everything.”

“Not necessarily.” Bucky pointed out. “If your dad was in the military, then there’s probably photographs of him. If any photos were taken of you and your family before the war, I know for a fact that Natasha and Tony can find them, and we can get them printed and framed for you, so you can have something of theirs… and you have me.” He told you. You turned to look at him.

“Really?”

“Of course. As long as you need me, I’m there. I’ve been through exactly the same thing as you, I know exactly how you’re feeling and I want you to be happy and to have as close to a normal life as possible. Since you live with me, that makes me your guardian. If you want to go to school, I’ll go to all your parent-teacher meetings and help with your homework. If you want to do after school activities, I’ll go to all your games and shows and awards. If you want to talk about the 1930’s and 40’s, let’s talk about it, if you want to talk about what happened with HYDRA, let’s talk about it or we can try therapy if you want. Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll support you no matter what. I’m here for you, no matter what, and I’m not going anywhere.” He told you. You didn’t respond at first, and when you did, you didn’t respond with words. Instead, you crawled across the couch to be closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your head on his shoulder, and Bucky hugged you back.

“I’d like that. Thank you.” He heard you speak. He held you as the sun went down, and only after realizing you had fallen asleep and he was gonna have to carry you to bed, that he realized something. He’d done it. He’d reached his goal that he had set with his therapist just over a month ago. It was totally unconventional, nothing he could have predicted, but he’d gotten his family. He’d found the child he wanted, the person he wanted to care and be there for, to watch grow and thrive and to help them with that. He’d found you.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 3 years

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Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 17 of 27: Magical

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHOOSE ME INSTEAD MASTERLIST CHOOSE ME INSTEAD PLAYLIST

A/N: A few announcements - I took some time off these past two weeks because uni started again and I needed a little time to sort stuff out. Because of that I will from now on post one chapter per week. If sometimes I have time for two, then great, but one chapter per week is my goal for now. I hope that’s okay! Also you lovely people keep sending me song suggestions for this story (I wanna cry everytime you do that) and I compiled a little playlist. You can find it here if you don’t have spotify! I love you all so much! For now - enjoy the chapter! Words: 3.4k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: ... making out, I guess?

“Draco …”, you sighed softly when his lips wandered down your neck. “We’ll be late …”

“Hmm,” the tone vibrated against your skin and his hot breath caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“We should really go,” you whispered.

“In a minute,” he replied, his eyes closed as his lips searched for yours. They met and his hands found your hips, pressing his body up against yours. You gasped but the sound was drowned by him. The kiss became faster, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed as if you were high up on the clouds and not in an empty classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Slytherin seemed to have that effect on you and you already knew that the moment he pulled away, your body would be trembling, aching for more for him.

Draco’s fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt until you felt his hands on your bare skin. This was the moment where your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. Turning back, he looked at you confused and out of breath. His usually perfect hair was messy, his lips red and puffy. The green and silver tie around hung loosely around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt were already opened, barely covering up the red lines of a hickey you’d given him.

You had done it to tease him, knowing how much he despised marks or blemishes on his body but it had only ended with him, pulling you in here and pressing you up against the cold stone wall. “Seems like I need to teach you a lesson,” he had grumbled, his eyes suddenly black as the night and your melted right then and there, trembling with excitement.

Now, he stared at you with a hunger in his eyes that made it clear to you, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. You, however, didn’t want to miss the announcement the Headmistress so mysteriously wanted to give tonight at supper.

“We only have around five or ten minutes to get there,” you repeated yourself. “Let’s go!”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Why do you want to go so badly?”, he asked. “The others can tell us later –”

“But I want to hear it. It sounded important.”

“Speaking from experience, most things our headmasters or headmistresses announce is less important than they think.”

You chuckled. “That’s your opinion. I’m also hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied and tilted his head again. Before he could press his lips against yours, he was stopped by your finger on his mouth.

You chuckled. “Draco.”

“Ugh,” he sighed dramatically and let go of you. “Fine…”

“Stop whining,” you laughed and reached down to grab the robe that he had pulled down your shoulders just minutes earlier. He only smirked at you.

The last two weeks were a blurr. You were drawn to one another, addicted, starving for each other. Lighting struck in your hearts with every whisper, every kiss, every touch. He never left your mind, all your thoughts circled around him. Around being close to him. Being with him. It was ridiculous how much your body longed to feel him against yours. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In conclusion, it wasn’t possible to describe the time with him adequately. Magical was a word the muggles would probably use.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when you watched him work in the library or nod off in the Room of Requirements, a thought entered your mind. It crept up like a monster behind his prey, careful and silent but just as dangerous: This isn’t friendship.

You shut it out but it kept coming back. Waking you in the middle of the night, distracting you when you studied, made you forget your homework. Until now, you were successful in ignoring it. However, along with the thought came the fear that it wouldn’t leave you.

Headmistress McGonagall was in the middle of her speech when the two of you arrived. You glared at Draco, silently saying “I told you so” before you sat down next to Ginny. She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows, guessing where you had come from. You rolled your eyes.

“… Winter Dance.”

You looked up abruptly when McGonagall said those words. She made a pause as if she wanted to see the reactions of her students. They started to murmur and giggle, excitement filled the room like a buzz. She stopped it with a wave of her hand.

“The last time, Hogwarts has hosted such an event was during the Triwizard Tournament”, McGonagall continued. “It feels like a long time ago. This particular school year ended in tragedy when we lost our dear student and friend, Cedric Diggory.” Another pause. “We experienced the Dance however as something beautiful that brought us and you closer together. This is why we, the staff and our Prefects,” she turned to smile at the mentioned people, “decided to make the Winter Dance a yearly tradition. In February of each year, we will come together to celebrate and dance.”

When she ended, the Hall erupted into clapping and cheers. Ginny nudged you excitedly, already making plans for you to go to Hogsmeade to shop for a dress during the next weekend.

“The Winter Dance will be held in two weeks,” the Headmistress announced. “I expect you to wear formal, appropriate attire. Other than that –”, a smile showed on her face, “– I expect you to have fun.”

With that, she snapped her fingers and food appeared on the long tables. The Hall was filled with noise in seconds. You felt the excitement in the air and when Draco winked at you from across the Slytherin table and you couldn’t suppress the smile, you understood the other students.

A ball.

A real ball. With dresses and music and delicious food and everyone having fun. Everyone being normal. Just like the Yule Ball. It seemed so long ago yet you remembered every detail of the night. Getting ready with Ginny, nervously waiting for your date, clumsily dancing and trying not to step on his feet. To be fair, you had gotten much better since then. When your father found out that you tripped twice during the night, he spent the also summer between your third and fourth year teaching you how to dance. The memory gave you a feeling of warmth. Oh, how happy and simple your life once was.

“I suppose you’re going with Malfoy?”, Ginny interrupted your thoughts.

You didn’t answer her question. “I suppose you’re going with Harry?”

She frowned. “Of course, we’re dating.”

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. It clicked in her brain and Ginny nodded slowly. “Right yes, I keep thinking this all just a feverish dream and you’re not really with him.”

“Stop being rude, Ginny,” Hermione chimed in before taking a sip from her drink.

“She can handle it,” the Weasley girl replied and grinned at you.

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hermione,” you said nonetheless. “However, let’s focus on the more important things here.”

Both of the girls looked at you with question marks in their eyes.

“We need to get to Hogsmeade before Parkinson and the whole bunch can buy the good dresses.”

***

One week later …

Draco flinched.

You stopped and looked up at him. He was on his back, shirtless, the covers pulled up just to hips, one arm behind his head, the other one straight next to his body. Although his eyes were closed, you noticed the way he clenched his jaw.

It was quiet in the Room of Requirements. Right now, it had changed to a small room with only a large bed in front of a window from which you were able to see the Black Lake and the stunning Scottish landscape behind it.

“Does it hurt?”, you whispered.

“Yes,” he replied. “No, I … I can’t describe it.” He let out a deep breath.

“Hmm,” you hummed and your eyes trailed back over his toned chest down to his left arm. The eyes of the snake in his black tattoo seemed to be staring back at you. In your mind, you were curious to see how it looked when it was moving.

“Do you think it should hurt?”, you asked then.

Draco opened his eyes. They found you right away. “I have a therapist for that, you know.”

You smiled cheekily at him.

He turned on his side, using his left arm to prop himself up. Right in that moment, the first rays of the sun hit the window. The light made his skin shimmer golden and it took your breath away for a second. People disagreed on so many things about Draco Malfoy but you were convinced there was one thing, everyone – even a blind person – had to admit: he was drop dead gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled. His expression was serious, not even the hint of a smile. “I can say that, right? As a friend?”

The sudden tone that changed from earnest to teasing, made you snort. “It’s possible to find people attractive without having feelings for them. You’re not blind, are you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m definitely not.” After a moment of silence, he then asked: “Have you found a dress yet?”

“Going today before breakfast.”

“Before?”, he raised an eyebrow. That meant you had to leave soon.

You nodded. “We want to get there before Parkinson and the rest.”

“I feel like Weasley and Pansy have quite different price ranges, so she doesn’t have to worry,” Draco remarked.

“But Parkinson and I don’t,” you replied and tried your best not to roll your eyes at his comment.

“True,” he shrugged. “I’d love to buy a dress.”

The statement took you by surprise. You blinked. Draco smiled sadly. It took you an embarrassing long time to understand. From what money. “One day,” you said softly. “Times will change for your family. I’m sure of it.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Draco just looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shifted and so did the blanket on his hips, you noticed. When he saw how your eyes wandered down his body, he smirked. “When do you have to leave?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“I can work with that.”

***

You were the first customers of the day. The store was still closed when Hermione, Ginny and you arrived.

“See, it’s not even open yet. There was no reason for you to be mad at me!”, you exclaimed when you stood in front of the door and saw the ‘Closed’-sign.

“You were twenty minutes late!”, Hermione snapped. Her cheeks were red. You didn’t know if the running or the anger caused it but you were not sure if you wanted to.

“Yeah, well, I was busy …,” you mumbled. “Doing things …”

“Do those things have Malfoy as their last name?”, Ginny asked.

You cleared your throat. “Maybe?”

There was a brief moment of silence in which your friends just looked at you. Then, suddenly, both of them started laughing.

“Just the thought …”, Ginny shivered.

“People like Malfoy don’t have sex, it’s just, no, my mind doesn’t know what to do with this information,” Hermione shook her head.

You snorted at their reactions. It was freezing cold out here and so you began to rock back and forth on your heels. “They do,” you said to Hermione. “Believe me, they do.”

“Is he any good though?”, Ginny wanted to know. “Or is he into some weird kinky Slytherin –”

Luckily, she was cut off when the door opened and a small, old lady looked at you. “Are you here for the Winter Dance?”

***

In all your time at Hogwarts, you had never stepped foot into this shop. For the Yule Ball, your parents had sent you a dress so you really never had a reason to come here.

You were surprised though by the sheer abundance of dresses and suits pressed into the small store. Every color you could think of, tulle and lace and velvet and satin – you and your friends were speechless when you walked in.

“There’s just … so much,” Hermione stammered.

“Yes, dear,” the old lady nodded eagerly. “When we heard about the Winter Dance, we made as many dresses as we could in the short time.”

“They’re all so beautiful,” you said.

“Thank you! They are the best quality in all of Scotland!”, she replied shortly. “How about you take a seat and I will present you with some options that I’d think would look stunning on you pretty girls.”

And with that, she hurried off. Your friends looked at one another before going over to the small couch on the other end of the store. It was located in front of the dressing rooms and a huge mirror.

Hermione was first. She had a pretty clear vision of what she wanted to wear and the old lady picked out the perfect dress right on the first try. It was a gorgeous red ballgown with a sweetheart-neckline. She looked like a goddess.

“Ron will faint,” you remarked and she giggled.

Ginny was next. For her, it was more difficult. She tried on six dresses, in colors from bright pink to black. In the end, she settled for a yellow dress. It clashed with her red-hair in the best way possible and you wondered how it was possible for any guy not to fall in love with her. She was excited when she saw herself in the mirror, turning and twirling in front of it – but her joy was ended abruptly when the old lady mentioned the price.

“I told you my price range,” Ginny said distraught.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she sighed. “But what you wanted … it wasn’t possible.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

Hermione looked over at you and you understood immediately. “We’ll pay for it,” you chimed in.

Ginny turned to you and shook her head violently. “No, absolutely not.” You had expected that reaction. She was just as proud as the rest of the family.

“It’s fine, Ginny,” Hermione smiled at her.

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s an early birthday gift?”, you tried to offer.

“No!”

“Okay, how about that,” you began, “we only pay the difference. And we’ll split it in half so it’s not too bad.”

Ginny hesitated.

“Just promise us to get us free tickets for your Quidditch games once you’re famous,” Hermione added.

Finally, she smiled. Very hesitantly but she did. “Fine then.”

You were next. Not sure what you’d like, you told the lady to just bring any dresses she’d like to see on you. In this moment, you wished for your mother to be here. No matter how difficult of a person she was, she had an immaculate sense of style. She would have walked in here and picked the right dress immediately.

However, the old lady seemed to have the same gift. When you saw yourself in that first dress, you swallowed heavily. You hardly recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” Hermione commented. “That’s the one, no question.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

It was a dark blue dress, flowing down, hugging and accentuating all the right parts of your body. There were little gemstones woven in the fabric of the skirt, making it sparkle with every movement of yours. It must cost a fortune. Luckily, your father still felt guilty for what happened last Christmas and told you to not look on the price tag and to simply send him the bill.

“His favourite colour is green.”

You were so stunned by the dress that you didn’t notice how the door opened and someone stepped in. You looked up, only to see the judging faces of your three Slytherin best friends: Astoria Greengrass, accompanied by her sister and Parkinson.

Astoria stared at you and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she despised seeing you here. “His favourite colour,” she repeated herself. “It’s green.”

Oh, so she wanted to pick a fight.

You frowned, not sure what to say at first.

“Oh, fuck off, Greengrass,” Ginny shot at her, coming to your rescue.

“Wow, a Weasel? In here? You sure you can aff–”

Before she finished her sentence and Ginny got a chance to physically fight her, you raised your voice: “It’s not.”

Astoria focused her attention back on you. Confused, you noticed how her sister – Daphne – rolled her eyes and stepped away, clearly not interested in this petty drama. Parkinson stayed and watched the two of you curiously.

“Excuse me?”, Astoria said.

“His favourite colour isn’t green,” you explained with a soft voice. “It’s this one actually. Blue.”

She blinked.

“And some small piece of advice,” you continued, “wear what you’re comfortable with not what you think men like Draco want.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione looking down on her feet. The corners of her mouth twitched. Ginny on the other hand didn’t hide the wide grin on her face.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. “Luckily with my body I’m comfortable in everything,” she said coldly.

You smiled. “Okay then. Good for you.”

***

Two weeks later …

“If you don’t want me looking like a house-elf, I have to leave now to get ready!”, you giggled.

Draco ignored you and lowered his head to kiss you again. He was heavy against your body as he pinned you down and when your lips met, a sigh escaped you. He replied by only deepening the kiss – his tongue twined with yours and your fingers tangled in his hair. Draco groaned when you pulled at it and suddenly he changed positions, yanking you up and pulling you in his lap.

You gasped when you felt him, growing more excited already, and pressed yourself against him, biting down on his lip. Dracos hands tightened on your hips and he moved down to where the skirt from your uniform was already riding up. When you felt his touch against your skin, you broke the kiss.

“What?”, he asked, his eyes dark and hungry.

“I have to go now,” you repeated yourself.

He groaned and let his head fall against the back of the couch. You smirked. “And you need to get ready as well.”

“You’re a tease,” he mumbled and you laughed. “Why don’t we just skip the Dance?”, Draco then asked.

You shook your head. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks now.”

“But we’d have so much fun,” Draco tried to argue. You felt his fingers drawing circles on your upper thigh and shivered. His eyes lit up at the reaction. “The castle will be empty. Can you imagine all the rooms we could do it in? How about the Slytherin common –”

You quickly put a finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “I want to go dance though, Draco.” You lowered your voice: “Besides, don’t you want to see me in my dress?”

“Mhh,” he hummed. “I do. You could only wear it for me?”

You chuckled again and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

“So that’s a no?”, he asked when you pulled back.

“No.” You shook your head.

Draco sighed dramatically. “Fine then.”

You smiled at him and kissed him another time, a little longer this time, a little more teasing. “It’ll be fun,” you whispered against his lips. “See you later.” He groaned defeatedly when you got up from his lap.

You reached for your bag and cloak and after a little wave of your hand, you walked towards the door. “Oh and Draco?”, you remembered something. “I’m never gonna do it in the Slytherin common room with you.”

You knew he was smirking without turning around.

“You say that now but wait until –”

The door fell shut before you heard the end of his sentence. ***

A/N: I hope you liked it! <3

CHAPTER 18 Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind, @renaissance-confiance, @harpoon999, @doitforthevine67, @rinasrights, @flowerpowerpixie, @gold-flowing, @starkssnarks, @bookcornerkins, @harpersmariano, @markedsweetly, @iraniq, @pointlesscoconut, @hvrcruxes, @pillowjj, @idkatee, @magicwithaknife, @graystherapy, @scoote-rankle, @nxstalgicnxbxdy, @sunsetsofanemoia, @tommy-holland, @lordfxxker, @streetfighterrichie, @awaken-the-sirens, @destiels-assbutt13, @pockitparks, @just-addicted-to-bangtan, @cuddlykoala101, @zpandaqueen, @natsiboo, @jjjmaybank, @justmesadgirl, @books-and-tings, @slytherinprincedracom, @katiaw2, @saintkore, @nctnight, @lifestragedy, @obxmxybxnk, @spideydobik , @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @aspiring-ginger, @dracomalfoyswifey, @jpow345, @realistic-breadstick, @abbs-is-tired, @alwaysbeanunknownfan, @niallsarmveinstho, @is-this-a-febreze-commercial, @acciowilltolive, , @sexytholland, @faangirl101, @donttellany1iusetumbler, @mendesmuffinsss, @lilxnvm, @kill-the-teen-memories, @darkusangelus, @itsbebeyyy, @hesaidimcrazy, @jenniweaslee, @hpxpjo, @brisbubble, @xomaymay, @shitnstuffillregret, @serialkillme, @angel-tears15, @panicattheeverywherekid, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @nobleking, @tashii-blr, @ddaeing, @randogirlo-fando-main, @sadgirlnumber92899, @captivateing, @bitchyegirl, @smiithys, @ninipoo1, @intheawks, @nothanksnyla, @calpal-4ever, @dracosathenaeum, @belsandthings, , @kiwi-sloan, @xdmx, @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy, @kvyenxay, @live-awkward, @babebenhardy, @bitchysweets-blog, @cravingmusic, @frau-moon, @ohissandhalasta, @broken-but-beautiful-cassie, @lil-black-heart, @vminenthusiastt, @dracos-sluts, @ohbabycal, @saucysuazo, @fuzzzwald, @matsuno-nadeshiko, @amber-arsenault , @loveableasshole, @spideycures, @echpr, @shiningstar-byulxx, @twinklebug2282, @bloodiedroses, @klthmef, @ostorian , @bi-chai-tea, @maddieisnotok, @amandaluvssupernatural, @makeoutwithstiles, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @tenclouds, @lovingdracomalfoy, @lannaax, @dr-bitch-bby, @fallinallinmendes, @suckerforparker, @runninglownad, @piercinghorizons, @dosicas, @yanaaaaaaa, @desertdwellerwitch, @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity, @akzer300500, @bbeautyybbx, @hoseokslily, @dracofeltonmalfoy, @emilianamason, @tothemoonwithclifford, @gcldreinhart , @angelofthorr, @k-k0129, @musicalmuffindog1410, @andydre4m, @mxl-foyrecs, @seeinorange, @vlgsqd , @justmimithings, @allthevoicesinmyhead, @pipppaaaaalouisee, @yessirrz, @2think2twice2 @spencerreidisbootiful, @find-a-little-faith, @thatguppienamedbae, @mimi15aguayo, @emmamarie7708, @dontpanicitsdan If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know!

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift part 8 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's time to do what's best for you . . . also fuck Kurt

Warnings: physical violence, emotional abuse, brief mention of trauma

W/C: 2.2k

AN: So.... I'll be honest, I was quite sick when I wrote this (and I'm still not 100% but I'm at like 75% which is good enough) but I have a mentality of not editing or revising my work otherwise I embarrass myself and convince myself I'm The Worst(tm), but I hope this makes sense and the pacing is good <3

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Part 1 Part 9

Frankie was glad to see you finally opening up. Even if that meant tears he couldn’t wipe away, or a hand he couldn’t hold. The last thing he wanted was to put you in a position where you thought the only reason he was helping was to swoop in while you were vulnerable.

You sat next to him in his truck, your eyes were puffy and red from tears that once they started seemed to come in waves of intensity, from a few sniffles to shoulders heaving, gasping for air sobs. Manny sat beside you, holding your hand, which Frankie was grateful for. He was glad to see that you had people that cared about you. When he had messaged Manny that morning, it was more to find out if his suspicions were correct about the ‘friend’ you had talked about while drunk was you.

“You don’t have-“

“We want to,” Manny interjected for the fifth time. It occurred to Frankie that you weren’t used to people wanting to help you. “I’ve been praying that you’ll let me help you.” That made you sob again. You gave another apology, chest heaving as you tried to breathe.

Truthfully, Frankie was also glad that this was an excuse for him to skip talking about his own feelings. His own mind was a muddy mess of flashbacks and night terrors and bouts of anxiety that became so crippling he forgot how to breathe. How well would that have gone down in the little group he now found himself apart of? If he had to guess, about as well as it went down with Portia – pitying looks and urges to see a proper therapist, and a new distance that neither was willing bridge.

Manny answered a call as Frankie drove back. He wasn’t driving anywhere in particular, but when it had become clear you wanted to be anywhere but that bistro, he had suggested the three of you pile into his truck and see where the road took you.

“Mateo, honey, I need to ask you a few things,” Manny said into his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie saw you lean your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. Frankie wanted to reach out and squeeze your knee, take your hand, do anything to show that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere so long as you wanted him around.

Manny’s voice faded into the background as you turned to look at Frankie. He pulled up at a small nature reserve, which was just an algae slicked pond and a few oak trees surrounded by recently mowed grass. Frankie noticed how bloodshot your eyes were.

“You okay?” he asked, realising it was a stupid question.

“I will be,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat with a wince. “I’m not upset . . . I’m just overwhelmed. Like, I’ve been holding this all in for so long that once the lid was opened it was impossible to put back on, and now I’ve just gotta let it all out. Does that sound stupid?”

Frankie shook his head. “Not at all.” You smiled weakly at him.

“Bet this is the worst lunch you’ve ever had,” you said.

“Nah, I think it ranks pretty highly,” Frankie said. “Mainly because of the company, though.” You rolled your eyes and Frankie could see the corners of your mouth twitch in an effort to keep a smile away.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he said softly.

“What isn’t?” You asked, but before he could answer, Manny interjected.

“I’ve found you a new place,” he said. You shot up, confusion written on your face plainly. Manny smiled the type of smile when someone knows they’ve basically saved the day. “That was my dear friend Mateo on the phone. He is taking his first steps towards being a real estate mogul and recently brought a one bedroom apartment to rent out. And because he is such a dear friend and owes me like, a billion favours, I told him the minimum of what your situation was, and he has told me that he’s willing to rent the place to you for lower than market value. A hundred and twenty a week, including water.”

You’re silent for a few moments, and Frankie watched you carefully.

“When can I move in?” you said finally, and Frankie felt an invisible weight lift off your shoulders. He could only imagine how difficult this would be for you; making decisions that would change how you lived in a matter of hours, basically upending your life.

“He can get the keys to us on Wednesday, he’s just got to replace some fixtures and finish painting some walls,” Manny said. You nodded slowly.

“So, I just need to last till Wednesday,” you said.

“You can stay at my place, if you want.” Frankie said quickly, not exactly comfortable with the idea of you staying with Kurt. You had said he was never physically violent, but Frankie also knew how quickly a man could change when they didn’t get their way.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” you said carefully. Frankie nodded.

“Of course, you’re my friend, and friends help each other.” Just friends. Only friends. He wasn’t going to take advantage of you in this state just because he had a stupid crush. He had once had a conversation with a pissed off Eve Miller, who was ranting about the guys she thought were her friends instantly making moves the moment she became single. That had solidified Frankie’s resolve to not make moves on women he was friends with – it wasn’t fair to them or to him.

Before you could answer, your phone was ringing loudly. Your face crumpled as you looked at the contact, and Frankie frowned.

Kurt.

You took a deep breath and hit answer. “Hey! What’s up?” Your light and airy tone was at odds with your sombre expression. “No, I have lunch with Manny on Sunday, remember? You’re home already? But –“

Frankie listened to the angry buzzing coming from your phone, his revulsion growing.

“My phone died – no I just went out with Sara last night, she wanted to go to fight night . . . it’s not that short . . . No I didn’t fuck anyone else, Jesus Christ, Kurt! No! Look, I’ll be home soon, we can talk about this then.” You hung up with a shaking hand, your mouth twisting with effort to contain the tears.

Manny met Frankie’s eye over the top of your bowed head and gave a small nod.

“We’ll come with you to get some of your clothes,” Frankie said. “And anything else you need.”

“You’re really too sweet for this,” you muttered with a hiccup. “I’m sorry for dragging the both of you into my shit.”

“I crawled willingly into it,” Manny said breezily, “which I would only do for about five people in this world.”

The trio remained silent for several minutes, interrupted only but the sound of your occasional hiccups. Frankie reached out and patted your shoulder awkwardly, cringing internally while he did. Inexplicably, you leant into his touch, your damp cheek brushing against the back of his hand.

“Can you drive me home so I can get my stuff?” you asked softly. Frankie nodded and turned on the truck.

~*~

You were a ball of anxiety as Frankie pulled into the complex’s parking lot. Kurt’s car was already in the spot reserved for your apartment, sending you to the verge of a full-blown panic attack. You squeezed your eyes shut and counted to ten, then backwards from ten. Distantly, you felt Manny take hold of one of your hands.

“You’ve got this.” Manny’s voice sounded far away. “Francisco and I are behind you one hundred percent.”

“You’re calling the shots,” Frankie said, touching your arm. His hand was warm and calloused, and you didn’t know why that observation seemed to be at the forefront of your mind, but it was. You opened your eyes and met Frankie’s warm brown ones, suddenly feeling infinitely stronger.

You told them what you wanted to do – for you to go in by yourself and for them to wait outside the door, plug their ears if necessary, only come in if they felt like you were in any actual danger. Frankie’s face darkened at this, but to your relief he didn’t protest your plan.

You felt stronger with the two of them behind you. Every single step towards your apartment door solidified your resolve that this was the right thing, that this relationship hadn’t made you happy, fulfilled, in years. The click of your key in the door felt like one of finality.

Kurt sat on the couch, glaring at you. You left the door open a crack as you walked in, hovering by the dining table. You took him in fully and came to the conclusion that you were no longer attracted to this man at all. His skin was reddened by the sun, pale patches around his light blue eyes. His thin mouth was curled into a sneer.

“Care to explain what the fuck you’ve been doing while I was gone?” he said.

“Not really, no.” You replied. “Here’s the thing, Kurtis, you don’t get to go out with your friends for the whole weekend doing who-knows-what then turn around and get angry at me for spending time with the only friend from school that I still have! That’s not fair.”

“And who’s fault is that? You’re the one who pushed them all away!” Kurt stood up and advanced towards you. Normally, you would have taken a step backwards, given him space, but this time you stood your ground, clenching your fists tightly to stop them shaking.

“I’m still allowed to have a social life,” you said, struggling to keep your tone even. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“If you wanna go out and act like a fucking whore-“

“Think what you want, Kurt,” you said, “it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m leaving. You can’t stop me.”

Kurt spluttered for a moment, turning a shade of deep red. “Like fucking HELL you’re leaving me, you bitch!”

“I am!” you shot back. He was only a few inches from you now, so close his breath was hot on your face. “I’m miserable, I don’t love you anymore, and I’m done. I’ve been done for so long I can’t remember a time I was fully invested in this relationship! I deserve better! I deserve love that doesn’t make me so sad it hurts, and I can’t have that with you.”

Kurt’s face twisted into an ugly contortion of the features you once found perfect. “No. Nobody can love you the way I do! Nobody can understand you like I do! If you leave, I won’t want to live anymore. Don’t you remember? I can’t live without you!”

“Then go to a fucking hospital!” you snapped, moving to get past him. Kurt grabbed your wrist tightly. His grip was like a vice, cutting off blood supply to your fingers.

“Let go!” you begged. Kurt tugged you closer, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, your noses almost touching. He’s going to kill me. Oh my god, he’s actually going to kill me. You saw movement by the door out of the corner of your eye, and your heart swelled.

“You heard her,” Frankie said, “let her go.”

Kurt didn’t let go, but instead gripped harder. He’s completely lost it, you thought dimly, the expression Kurt wore sending true fear into your heart.

“And just who the fuck are you?” Kurt demanded.

“Let her go,” Frankie repeated. He didn’t raise his voice, but you could still hear the power it held. Kurt scoffed and spat at Frankie’s feet.

“This is an issue between me and my girlfriend, now get out of my apartment before I make you.”

Frankie didn’t reply, instead, he strode forward, pushed the sleeves of his flannel over shirt up as he did. Kurt didn’t wait. He pushed you hard against the kitchen bench, knocking the breath out of you and sending a shot of pain through your back, and moved to meet Frankie in the middle of the room.

It happened in an instant, blink and you miss it. Frankie swung, his fist connecting with Kurt’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Kurt went down like a lead balloon, howling as he collapsed on the floor. Frankie stood over him, breathing hard through his nose.

Manny ran forward to help you, holding you to him like the protective brother you had always wished for. It took you a few moments to realise you were shaking, out of fear or adrenaline you didn’t know.

“Come on,” he whispered soothingly, “we gotta get your stuff.” You nodded and let him help you up. You didn’t feel like you were connected with your body like you were watching the whole thing through a separate set of eyes. You saw Frankie standing over Kurt, arms crossed and boot pressing into Kurt’s chest.

Manny held your hand as you walked to your bedroom. You were distantly aware of the aching in your body, your back, and wrist especially. It was Manny who packed your bag for you, grabbing anything he thought you might need. The whole thing was done in less than ten minutes. Before you left you turned to face Kurt.

“I’ll be back sometime this week to get the rest of my stuff. Do not contact me.”

You felt your strength returning to you as you left with Frankie and Manny with you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki

#the night shift #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 13 ~The Reunion~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Obstacle Course ...

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

"What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said."

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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The full moon illuminated Jamie's and Claire's path as they made their way to the cottage into the cold night. It seemed they were the only two people in the world, walking in comfortable silence, lost in their own respective thoughts, and the only sounds to be heard were their footfalls and the dance of the trees. Inhaling deeply, Jamie pulled Claire into the warmth of his body, gently kissing the crown of her head, and in turn, her arm slid familiarly under his jacket to settle around his waist. For the first time in five days, every cell in his body was alive and buzzing, and it felt amazing to hold and have her close again.

Earlier, after the excitement and stramash outside Christie's apartment building had settled, they'd gone back in search of Quentin. It hadn't taken them long to spot him where he'd leaned on the wall outside the pub working his phone, most probably trying to call Claire. Though Quentin had looked like he could go for a few more round of drinks, to his relief, he hadn't put up much of an argument when Claire had firmly suggested it was time to call it a day. They'd escorted him back to his lodgings, making sure he had everything before heading for home.

It had been a surreal day, and Jamie knew it was far from over. He'd sensed Claire wanted to talk, and who could blame her? They had a lot of things to discuss, but his depraved mind had other ideas. His alcohol-fueled bravado from earlier had long waned to be replaced with an urgency that pulsed heat below his belly. But he swiftly reminded himself to be an attentive boyfriend first and clear the air between them.

After what he'd put himself and Claire through the last few days, he was done being a prisoner of the past and mistrusting the future. Here, at this moment with her, he was whole, and just having her beside him was healing invisible wounds all over his body. He needed her, but her needs came first even though her sweet scent and the sound of her soft sighs were piercing holes in his self-restraint. At nearly midnight, the air was icy cold, and yet, there was a fine layer of perspiration on his skin brought about by the anticipation of being finally alone with her.

When they eventually reached the cottage, Jamie had a hard time giving up her body's warmth to retrieve his keys, so he turned her to face him and locked her in an embrace. Savouring the feel of her, he wondered how the hell he'd managed to keep his distance; moreover, allow her to go to Inverness with Tom.

"Home sweet home," Claire murmured, breaking his thoughts. She made a move to pull away, but he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her icy fingers instead. "I think I need a drink," she said, shivering, "It's been quite an eventful night, don't you think?"

Jamie shook himself and nodded. "Aye. It's been a riot." He finally let go of her, quickly fishing for his keys in his pocket and unlocking the door, letting her pass first. They were welcomed by two happy, hyper animals who circumvented him to get to Claire. Ah, wee traitors!

He shut the door and watched with amusement as Claire immediately fell on her knees, her arm going around Rollo's neck while her free hand scratched Adso's back ear. Jamie grinned when both nudged closer and let out chesty whimpering sounds as they were treated to Claire's lovefest.

His eyes landed on her unpacked bags on the floor. She must have left the cottage as soon as she'd arrived. "How'd ye know where to find me earlier? Ye never called," he remarked, divesting his jacket and dropping it onto the chair.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I didn't. When Tom dropped me here, I realised I forgot to hand in some documents for Mary. I kind of figured you might be out with uncle Lamb. So I thought before calling you I'd walk over to Tom's to drop the papers for Mary and well, ..." she shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "I was about to phone you, and who did I find outside Tom's apartment building? My boyfriend serenading Mary Hawkins, no less."

Almost completely sober by now, his head dropped to hide his embarrassment, his pained groan barely subdued in his throat at the reminder of the recent event. "Oh, Christ!"

She stood up, walked over to him and encircled her arms around his neck, forcing him to glance at her smiling face. "I thought you were adorable." She kissed his chin. "And I think Mary was chuffed to bits hearing your love declarations. She'll never leave the Highlands now, what with Tom as her new love interest and you serenading her in front of an audience. She probably thinks she's heaven's gift to Broch Mordha and vice versa."

Her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck made it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ye should be righteously pissed at me for thinking ye were with Tom. And even if ye were in his apartment, I shouldnae have jumped to conclusions."

She contemplated his words. "We all get our jealous moments," she said quietly. "Well, I certainly do ...at least."

"Ye? Jealous? I only have eyes for ye, Sassenach. Ye have nothing to be jealous about." Then the image of Geneva's kiss came to mind, and his throat tightened. With everything that had happened today, he'd already forgotten about it ...until now. He knew only too well how the truth had its way of coming out, and he couldn't just dismiss it as an afterthought even though it didn't mean a thing. He needed to tell her before she finds out from someone else.

"Geneva," she whispered as if reading his mind. "I heard ..."

"Ye heard what?" She's already heard about the kiss? There was no stopping the weight of dread from settling in his belly. "Whatever stories ye heard about her and me, there's a perfect explanation for it, Sassenach. I can assure ye."

She didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort nor heard the words he'd just said, her gaze too busy following the movements of her hands as they travelled down to his shoulders and over his chest. "While you were in Lallybroch, Willie came to check up on me once in a while to see how I was fairing. I thought it was rather sweet of him to do that." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, he mentioned something about Geneva fancying you, and that didn't sit well because I know she's your therapist, and Jenny preferred her for you." Her eyes suddenly dimmed. "Oh, God! Why am I even telling you this? It's so primary school."

"Sassenach ..." He brushed his lips to her forehead. "It's not ..."

She visibly shook herself. "No, let me finish. I know it's silly, but I couldn't help feeling the way I did. It was torturous knowing you were suffering, and I could do nought about it. I feared that night when you left, I may have made things worse by pushing you to talk about the past." True to her words, her expression was troubled as she chewed her bottom lip. "You see ...I want to be the one who can make things better for you, but I also recognise there are things about your condition that are beyond my understanding no matter how much I try to help or learn about it." She took a deep breath. "Geneva's your therapist, and she knows what she's doing. Sooo ...I have to put aside my petty jealousy and let Geneva do her work. But it doesn't mean I have to like her or the whole situation. So for the sake of ..."

"No, Sassenach. Stop right there." He dropped his mouth to prevent her from saying more, punctuating his words with a kiss. Their breaths collided, his fingers gripping her shoulders hard and digging into her skin. "Ye have every right not to like the situation. Because I dinnnae like it either." He searched her face, but her eyelids were at half-mast, and her gaze seemingly focused on his lips. He tipped her chin up. "I willnae be returning to therapy. So ye dinnae have to worry about her."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wot? But why?" She stopped and looked at him suspiciously. "Wait. If this is your way of making me stop seeing Tom, sorry mate, not going to happen. This is work. And I'm not stopping you from going to therapy just because it's Geneva either."

"Woman, will ye let me finish?" He took a few cleansing breaths. "I'll wager ye a pound to a penny that ye willnae allow me to attend the therapy when ye hear what she did."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Why? What did she do?"

"She kissed me."

She stiffened and took a step back. "Wot?" Her expression of softness she had just moments ago made way for disbelief.

He tried to rid the sudden tangle in his throat. "She stopped by today. She said something about wanting to talk about my progress. I told her I was busy. Then she threw herself at me and kissed me. It's nae biggie."

"Nae biggie?!" Her eyes flashed, and her mouth open and closed. And then opened again. "Where did she kiss you? Lips or cheek?"

Her question caught him like a surprise right hook. On any other occasion, he would have probably been amused with her display of jealousy, but the way she was looking at him now, was causing his heart to pound painfully against his ribs. "O-on the lips, but I ...ah ...immediately pushed her away. I swear to God, I did nothing to inspire it."

She rolled her head as if preparing for a fight, and when her eyes landed on the bottle of tequila he and her uncle had been drinking earlier, she made a beeline for it. "On the lips, huh? Did you like it?" She poured herself a healthy measure in one of the used glasses without offering him one and downed it in one go.

Christ! "No!"

"Any tongue involved?"

"Of course not!"

"You sure?" She slammed the glass down on the table, making him flinch.

What the bloody hell? The questions she was throwing at him was making him squirm on his feet, and for the first time, Jamie realised how similar Claire and Quentin were when trying to extract an answer. Both would undoubtedly make great interrogators if ever they'd decided on a career change. "What kind of question is that? The kiss happened so fast, taking me by surprise. I didnae have time to think. She might have tried to put her tongue down my throat, but I stopped her."

"And where did this happen?"

"What do ye mean? I already told ye she stopped by. I was here ...at home."

"I mean, did it happen inside or outside the cottage?"

Jesus! "Outside."

"Outside," she repeated, more to herself.

"Aye, outside. She wanted to come in, but I told her I had things to do and was expecting a visitor ...yer uncle, that is. Anyway, that aside, I didnae think it was a good idea to allow her to come inside, knowing that she's my therapist and fancied her chances with me."

"Hmmm ...so when she threw herself at you, you pushed her away, is that right?"

"Aye."

"Where did her hands go?"

Confusion seeped into his already muddled head. Is this some kind of trick question to catch me of any wrongdoing? "What do ye mean?"

"Geneva's hands. Did it go around your waist, neck or what?"

"Oh, um ...around my neck."

"And what about your hands?"

Huh? "What about them?"

"Where were your hands when she kissed you?"

"They were by my side. The only time I touched her was to push her away from me. Ask yer uncle. He saw the whole thing. I didnae even know he was there."

"And he didn't sock you?"

"Why would he?" he almost shouted. "I didnae do a thing. It was Geneva who initiated it!"

"Fine."

"Fine?" he gasped in confusion.

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and took off her jacket. That's it? What the hell just happened? I gave her the truth, and that's supposed to be good, right? Or am I missing something? He followed her strained movement, and he helplessly watched her grabbed her laptop bag and rummaged through it, the silence pulsing around them bordering on awkwardness. This was definitely not how he'd envisioned their reunion, he thought miserably.

"Sassenach," he began, choosing his words carefully. "I can tell ye're upset about the kiss. Ye ken ye've no reason to be, aye?"

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "No," she agreed, relief washing over him. "I've no reason to." She pulled out sheets of paper from her bag, looked at them and haphazardly stuffed them back in again, seemingly going through the motion of keeping her hands busy.

"Then why are ye cranky all of a sudden?"

She let go of her bag and grabbed the bottle of tequila, sloshing over the rim of the glass as she poured another shot. "I'm not." She grimaced as she threw back the liquid.

"Ye are." When she poured another drink, he frowned at her. "Go easy on that tequila, Sassenach."

Her head spun halfway round in his direction, reminding him of that wee girl in the film, The Exorcist. Her mouth dropped open, and she glared at him.

He forced himself to remain patient. Claire was visibly upset about something, and now he wasn't sure anymore if it had to do with Geneva's kiss. "Sometimes, I associate alcohol with bad judgments and choices," he began calmly. "My own, especially. But ye've helped me make a lot of good ones in the past, and ...I just want to do the same for ye. Talk to me, Sassenach. What's really bothering ye?"

She huffed and balled her fingers into tight fists. "Fine! Do you want to know the truth? I want to start a fight."

"A fight?" He reined in his frustration of not being able to understand and took a step closer to her. "Why would ye wanna do that?"

A deep scarlet soared from her neck to her cheeks as she threw her hands in the air. "The last few days were trying, alright? It wasn't only you who was having a rough time with it. God, I've been worried sick about you. I've been trying to keep it together ever since you left, wondering if I'll ever get to see you before I return to London. And then ...and then," she hiccupped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob. "One bloody thing led to another. First, I got into a fight with your sister because of some stupid newspaper clipping she had in her possession. Then, not long after that, in the middle of what was supposed to be an important meeting with Tom, my boss dumps the responsibility of babysitting Mary onto my lap, and I had no idea how I was going to manage that with my uncle on his way. Then I got to Inverness, hoping to get at least some work done with Mary to finish her book so I could finally leave London for good and start a new life here with you. And you know what?"

Jamie stood immobile. He longed to soothe her, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to be touched yet, so he waited even though he was slowly dying inside to hold her in his arms.

Her inhale became stuttered, and her eyes darkened with defeat. "I was grasping at straws to keep Mary to sit still long enough to extract a measly one thousand seven hundred words worth of work when I know she could do more in a day. But that's all I got for my efforts because she was too busy galavanting in Inverness with Tom. And speaking of Tom, I still haven't managed to make him sign the contract for his book and when my boss asked me why I couldn't even give him an answer and gave him some lame excuse. The only good thing that came out of Tom is, he convinced Mary to come here. If Tom hadn't been with me, I'd still be in Inverness with Mary. And now ...now I find out Geneva tried to kiss you while I was away. God, I want to scratch her eyes out. But I can't do that, can I? Because she isn't here. So I asked you those dumb questions to find a fault and start a fight because I wanted to vent after the last few days I've had. But even that, I can't do because you've done nothing wrong." She let out a groan of exasperation. "How sad is that?"

Suddenly, it all made sense to Jamie. Claire always put others' needs before hers with no thought for herself. He had to take better care of her. It had been easy to rest all his hopes and fears on her shoulders, and because of it, she was a massive part of his motivation to want more out of his future and be a better man for them. But if they were going to be together, his condition shouldn't always be her fight, and her burdens should be lighter with him by her side and not more. This lass had given him hope, and he's not going to rest until he gave her the same. Until she, too, knew her needs were just as important as everyone else's.

The boyfriend in him wanted to wipe the look of upset in her eyes. Confront the people that pushed her to act out in a way so unlike her usual self. Demand answers to find out what else was troubling her. He sensed, however, that questioning was the last thing she needed. So doing his best to be the protector this time, he opened his arms, relieved when she quietly walked into them. She laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he held her, resting his chin on her crown.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke haltingly. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to pick a fight. It's just that ...." Her fingers tugged at the edge of his jeans, and he shut his eyes. He could hear the slight slur in her words, making him realise she'd drank tequila on an empty stomach. "The last few days have been mad, and I -I ...oh, hell, never mind. I'm just acting pathetic."

Jamie frowned against her head. "Sassenach, look at me." He drew slightly away and held the sides of her face in her hands, the unshed tears in her eyes crushing him to the core of his being. "First of all, ye have nothing to be sorry about. If anything, Tom, Mary, yer boss, my sister, including myself, owe ye an apology. And ye're no' pathetic and dinnae ever say that about yersel', ever again. Ye do far too much for others, including me, and it's about time ye did something for ye. The rest of the world can wait, and other people getting their act together is no' yer responsibility."

She blew out a breath, bright amber eyes holding his steady.

"As for Geneva, ye have nothing to worry about her. There was never anything between us. I'll talk to my sister and let her know what her friend has done. If Jenny refuses to do anything about it, I will make a formal complaint about Geneva's behaviour to the clinic's head myself. And perhaps, propose a new or my old therapist be reinstated."

"Jamie, I can't be responsible ..."

"Ssshh, Sassenach. Ye're no' responsible for Geneva. She overstepped the boundaries, so it's only right she takes responsibility for her own actions." He pressed their foreheads together and looked her in the eyes. "I chose to be with ye as ye did with me, and I cannae have anyone disrespecting that, no' even Jenny. We're together, and we're supposed to be stronger as a unit. I need to step up my game and be there for ye as ye've been for me. For so long, I was so fixated on my own condition, I ceased seeing other people's difficulties." He pulled back and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Then I met ye, my feisty wee, Sassenach ...for the second time as a grown-up ...and ye taught me all about selflessness and courage. I want ye to know ye're important ...more important than what I want or what Mary Hawkins wants or what yer boss wants. And the things that hurt ye, they're no less painful than what I go through. Things are gonnae change from now on, and it can't be just all about me. I'm so sorry for abandoning ye and for not being there when ye needed me most."

The worst of the troubled look in her expression faded and was replaced by a wobbly smile. "There's nothing to forgive. We were both trying our best to deal with circumstances that were beyond our control."

He smoothed her hair back, picking up the locks and twining his fingers through them. "No, ye were doing all the heavy lifting. Every moment ye spent with me was a trial of fortitude ye were too stubborn not to meet. It would have been easy for ye to give up on me, but ye didnae. Ye always thought I was enough despite my shortcomings. Ye taught me second chances, and because of that, I dinnae want to believe anymore I deserve no' to have ye." He took a deep breath. "I thought my realisation came too late when I thought ye were with Tom, and I was willing to go at any lengths to win ye back and make ye see what we have is worth fighting for. After what I did out there tonight, I ken I'll be teased for the rest of my life for singing like a fool at the village square, but it's all worth it because I get another chance with ye."

"Another chance with me? I never left you, Jamie. I may have been miffed and hurt, but I've always been yours."

He shook his head, more at the error of his ways. "Deep down, I ken that but the mere thought of Tom with ye, all reason and logic seem to fly out the window. In the future, I promise to keep those thoughts at bay. It's no' good for my sanity." He smiled at her. "Shall we kiss and make up?"

Laughing, tears spilt from her eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

The urgency that had been building up inside him went off like a gunshot. He drew her in closer. "Christ, I love you, Sassenach and always will." His mouth descended over hers, impressing his vow with a thorough tasting of her lips, savouring the earthy, semi-sweet taste of tequila on her tongue. His thumbs traced her cheekbones and jawline, and when she swayed closer, and the softness of her breasts flattened against his chest, he let out an animalistic groan.

His heart started to pound, every muscle south of his belt tightening. It was as though he'd been in a dry spell for five years instead of five days. His mouth went dry, his palms itched with the need to touch her naked skin, and his body was on fire as the pent-up desire from the past few days burst in a torrent of heat. He was ravenous for her taste and for her hand to encircle his hardness, and he indulged in her eager response that was opposite her usual shyness during lovemaking.

Restless fingers tangled into his hair, clasping his head in place as she kissed him back and met his demand with urgency. When her hips impatiently pressed against him, her scent invading his senses, his cock grew uncomfortably heavy.

He dragged his mouth from hers, twisting her hair in his fist. "Jesus, if ye dinnae take it down a notch, I'll burst in my pants like a schoolboy."

She blinked as if coming from a long sleep, her lips wet and puffy from his kisses and cheeks bright pink. She gave him a slow smile that promised unspoken pleasures, sending his heart up to his mouth. "Not my fault," she hummed, going up on her toes to teasingly brush her mouth over his. "You made me wait this long." Maintaining eye contact, she took a step back and stripped off her clothes, revealing her matching red bra and panty. "So enough talk, Jamie. I can't wait much more. I want you now," she whispered huskily.

Her words did it. His lust-filled brain only gave him a split second to process what she'd just said before the need to be inside her dismissed everything else. That urge he'd felt to make up for lost time raced out of control. He could only see Claire with her dazed eyes, parted lips and loads of naked skin.

He seized her hips, walking her backwards and crowding her against the dining table, pushing the chairs aside to make space. Her breath rose and fell in a choppy rhythm as his mouth dipped for a desperate kiss.

Her mouth moved in perfect unison with his, wee sounds vibrating up her throat, ending where their lips frantically worked together. Lust pumping in his veins, he roughly settled her sweet bottom on the table and gingerly hooked his fingers into the lacey band of her knickers, shoving it down her legs. When she began tugging at the waistband of his jeans, he groaned into her mouth, knowing she needed him just as bad.

"I planned to make slow love to ye tonight. But now I cannae ...because I cannae wait to have ye." His hand slipped between their bodies, and he palmed her between her thighs. Ah, sweet Jesus! Sliding a finger deep into the wet heat of her entrance, he tested and teased, revelling the way her fingernails dug onto the skin of his shoulders in response, his head spinning at the feel of her moistness. "Christ, ye look so needy, ye're giving me nae choice but to take ye right here ...like a wild beast."

"Oh, shoosh, Jamie. Quit talking about it now. You want it just as bad." She began to undo his belt buckle, nipping at his neck as she yanked and shoved. When he was finally freed, he nearly fainted at the relief of no longer being restrained to his jeans. The relief was fleeting, though, when her smooth hands encircled his throbbing cock, her tight grip moving up and down, twisting at the base, preparing him when the only thing he needed was to be inside her. Ah, Christ, but it feels so good. Far too good ...

He couldn't take it anymore. He knew he wouldn't last long. "Enough!" he gritted.

She gave him a look like he'd just taken her favourite toy. She unhooked her bra in retaliation and pushed her breasts up like an offering. His breath caught in his throat, stunned by the vision, her eyes, a translucent gold gleaming with arousal, beckoning him to take his fill.

He parted her legs and fisted his cock before rubbing its tip at her entrance. "I've missed ye so much. I might not last long, but I want this to be good for ye," he whispered hoarsely. "I may be a bit rough," He dipped his head, forcing her back to arch like a bow as he bestowed kisses on her breasts. "Are ye alright with that?"

She nodded, feeling her shudder with anticipation and need.

"Is that what ye want?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Take me however you want."

He whipped off his top and lowered his hand to her buttock, coasting his palm over the firm, rounded flesh and squeezing it tight. "Wrap yer legs around me."

Claire's legs wrapped around his middle and her arms around his neck. Her thighs glid around his waist with such exquisite perfection that he had to bite the tender flesh on the side of her neck to stop from shouting. The friction of his cock sliding between her legs where he'd touched with his fingers was too much. Almost propelling him past his breaking point. Too impatient to take the time to savour, he gripped himself and pushed deep into her entrance.

Watching her teeth bite onto her bottom lip as if to stop a scream from escaping, he groaned out loud as he pushed inch by inch, his focus whittling down to Claire and the heat enveloping his cock. Everything ceased to exist. He pulled out slightly before thrusting again, their mutual moans resounding on the walls of the cottage.

He shifted closer, needing to feel and touch all of her as possible. Keeping their lips locked, he seized her hips and started to move to the ancient dance of mating. There were no words to express the rough, grinding pace of what he did to her. It only bloomed more intense when she began matching his moves, widening her thighs and rolling her hips like she couldn't get enough.

"Oh sweet Lord, ye feel too good," he muttered against her mouth, hips pounding furiously. "How did I stay away from this?"

She gripped the back of his neck. "I missed this too," she gasped. "Please don't stop."

"I'm not hurting ye, am I? Tell me if I'm too rough."

"No ...no, don't be gentle. I need you to take me hard."

A tide surged inside him, mounting and building like a storm. Jamie roughly raised her hips to reposition her, dragging her arse to the edge of the table, her sweet moans telling him she'd like that. Unable to think past how she wanted it harder, there was no easing down now. He could only yank her leg higher and demand she keep up, ramming into her rough and fast. Her sighs and breath came out like hot rushes of air, thighs squeezing around him and starting to tremble. When her internal walls clenched around his cock, it warned him of her imminent climax, making his balls drew up so tight they ached. He dragged her flush to his body and buried his face in her neck, grunting with every deep thrust and muttering her name while his own release clamoured in his belly.

"Jamie!" she screamed, convulsing against him. He immediately silenced her cries with a deep kiss, but she flung her head back and squirmed, tightening up where their bodies joined, pulsing and throbbing. "Oh my God."

He couldn't wait any longer. Hooking his arms under her legs, he pumped his hardness in jerky hauls, faster and faster until his visions blurred. The whimpering noises she made launched him higher, signalling his own peak, and he soared towards it, his climax made more intense from the knowledge that it was Claire who got him there. He thrust into her one final time and thrust deep, growling her name into her hair and squashing her to his chest as he'd borne the full force of what they'd done.

"Oh, Christ, Sassenach."

Her hands ran up and down his back as she continued to take huge gulps of air. He knew he was crushing her, but he wasn't ready to let go. He wanted to remain buried inside her, holding her like this. With her heels digging into his arse and her arms around his neck. They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ! Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

He was about to say "none of her business" when Claire came up behind him, dressed back in her jeans and top. "Mrs Fitz, how are you? Is everything alright?"

Jamie stepped back and observed how Mrs Fitz's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. He figured instantly, his neighbour must have seen that kiss from Geneva earlier and that she'd probably thought the worse of him after hearing Claire's passionate screams. Right there and then, he decided, this time, he definitely needed to soundproof his home from eavesdropping neighbours.

"Ach, I saw light in yer windows," Mrs Fitz beamed, ignoring Jamie's glare. "Ye see, I've made too many pies and thought ye might like one. I remember ye enjoying this when ye stayed with yer friend over at my place this past Christmas."

"Oh, how lovely," Claire gushed, taking the plate from Mrs Fitz. "Thank you so much. Just what Jamie and I need right now ..." She blushed profusely, contemplating her words. "...after a long day."

Mrs Fitz clapped her hands. "I thought that!"

Seeing how thrilled Claire was looking at the desert, Jamie tamped down the urge to say something sarcastic and just scowled at her.

Mrs Fitz must have read his thoughts as this time it was her turn to crimson, a probable sign of her guilt for being nosey. Suddenly at a loss for words, she rubbed her palms at her sides. "Weel, ye both enjoy it. I must get going as it's rather late. Good night, both of ye." With that, she whirled around and disappeared into the night.

He shut the door and sighed, and followed Claire to the kitchen.

"Lovely lady," Claire remarked, sniffing the pie before placing it on the counter.

He turned her around and kissed her slowly, groaning when she opened her mouth for him without hesitation. "Ye're lovelier," he said against her lips. "But I'm not done with ye yet."

She grinned. "Pie first?"

Realising he'd never be able to compete with Mrs Fitz's homemade pie, he laughed out loud. "Absolutely ...why not?"

Dear Readers,

Well, here you go, their reunion! I hope you've enjoyed this lust-filled chapter. I must admit, though, when I was editing the sex part, I deliberately drank Bloody Mary to lose a bit of inhibition and make the scene a bit grittier. I hope it worked, but if it's too dirty for you, I say tough! 😆 Just kidding!

Anyway, thank you for commenting and showing your appreciation for my writing and your well wishes. I don't always reply back but be assured, your feedback is very much appreciated and anticipated.

And before I forget, it's not long now before this arc finishes. There will be an arc three, and I will let you know more on my next update.

Signing off now and wishing you a fabulous weekend. Stay safe and always take care! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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itacats · 3 years

Text

Summary: You were lying in the sun, on your journey to feel the world again, a certain ace and captain wants to help.

Character(s): Ushijima; GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.15k

Warnings: mentions of feeling numb and not feeling emotionally connected to the world, like one (1) or two (2) curses.

A/N: I decided to read some of my old writing from high school and realized how much I was emotionally disconnected from the world, so I wrote up this little piece if not as a way to comfort past me.

The sun. You’d been sitting in it for god knows how long for the soul purpose of trying to feel again. Sitting in the rays of heat that had traveled an extraordinarily long way to reach you. It was something that your therapist had recommended you try after you had coldly told her how tired you were of not feeling anything. Not happy or sad, not even angry about the ordeal- just numb. Now here you were effortlessly balancing on a thick cement wall on a lesser used walkway near your house. Elevated just high enough to not be a nuisance to others and vice versa, but also not too high to where if you happened to fall off the edge the most you’d get would be a bruise here and there.

Repositioning yourself to lie comfortably on the wall, you popped in one of your earbuds and closed your eyes. The comforting melodies and notes of the music that had gotten you through darker times wrapping you in a sense of calm. “This better work.” you mumbled as you let your mind begin to drift along with the music that now filled your head, and the rays of sun that warmed your skin.

The only cause for you to open your eyes should have been to change your playlist. Emphasis on ‘should have.’ No, instead a large, looming shadow had taken away the one thing you were trying so desperately to have once more at such a basic level. Peaking through one half lidded eye, heavy from lying in the sun for who knows how long, you’re met with a man you’d only seen a few times while walking through the halls and in some of your classes. The six foot something tall captain of Shiratorizawa, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

“You’ll get a sunburn if you aren’t careful.” wow, okay- way to be blunt. The rumors that made their ways through the halls about Ushijima’s blunt and cold demeanor weren’t falling short from what you could tell. You understood that he was just trying to be considerate and inform you of what could happen, but you really weren’t in the mood to talk to him. Taking out your earbud and sitting up to excuse yourself, you noticed he was wearing the school’s exercise uniform. Of course he was. What you didn’t notice however, was the blur of red-hair dashing up behind him. “Thanks, but I-” you began, only to be cut off by a loud “Ushiwaka! Wait up!” The captain who was currently towering over you turned his head, acting as though this was an everyday occurance. “Yes, what is it Tendou?” God, did this guy show any emotion? you thought to yourself as you jumped the small distance it was to the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation guys, but the coach wanted me to let you know practice is cancelled tomorrow- something about a birthday I think?” Tendou huffed, sweat dripping from his forehead.

Did he run all the way here from the school?? Almost as if Ushijima had read your thoughts, he asked the red-head the same question. A smug smile overtook Tendou’s face. “Of course! Semi bet that I wouldn’t be able to reach you within the 3 mile mark, but joke’s on him- he owes me lunch!” Pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture to send to Semi as proof he actually caught up to their captain. “Why didn’t you just text him this information if you had a phone this entire time?” You pipe up. “Well there’s no fun in that, duh. And I wouldn’t have gotten a free lunch out of it either if I did that.” Tendou stated, crossing his arms. “Wait a second, haven’t I seen you before?” The red-head questions. Great, now you had to give the entire spill of how, yes he had seen you before, you share the same mathematics and language classes with the two prized volleyball players. “Tendou,” Ushijima began, “L/N shares mathematics and language with us. I thought you knew this?” Your typical spill had been- what- stolen? No, that didn’t seem right. You weren’t sure what you were feeling, you didn’t know why you felt the way you did when you realized someone as popular and “untouchable” as Ushijima knew these details that others seemed to toss away without a second thought. And you didn’t blame them, you were too caught up in trying to keep your grades steady while not feeling anything. You weren’t concerned with whether or not people remembered you. Hell- you were starting to think you were forgetting who you were besides numb.

The sudden inhale of Tendou’s realization shook you out of your spiralling thoughts. “Ah, yes! You’re rather quiet aren’t you?” No, I’m tired, exhausted from not feeling anything. “Yeah, just not much to say I guess.” Ushijima’s phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling it out and reading what appeared to be a text. “Tendou, Semi needs you back at the gym, he needs help putting things away, and the others have either left or are busy assisting with other things. Thank you for informing me about practice tomorrow.” He states, in the same semi-serious tone, causing the red-head to turn and make his way back, but not before waving goodbye to you and Ushijima.

You begin to walk away, regretting even saying anything like that to someone like Ushijima. “Y/N, why is wanting to feel, dumb?” You couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not with how his entire demeanor was. Embarrassed steps slowly halting, you turn to face him once more. “I don’t know, I-” finding the words to express your current inability to feel anything and wanting it to stop was harder when it came to people you didn’t pay to keep their mouths shut. “It’s just something I want to do again.” You were mentally pleading with the man in front of you not to press further on the matter. Ushijima opened his mouth as if to start speaking, but chose to quitely nod his head instead, accepting your simple explanation. “I’m gonna go home now, have fun with your volleyball stuff.” Giving a curt wave of your hand before making your way back home.

“May I ask you a question L/N?” Ushijima says, turning back to you, expression unchanging. “Please just call me Y/N, I’m not much a fan with honorifics and my name, but sure go ahead.” a silent sigh leaving you at the end of your sentence. You were back to feeling tired and the numbness was seeping back into your bones. “My apologies Y/N, but why are you sitting in the sun on a ledge nonetheless? You could fall and hurt yourself.” Was that concern in his voice? No, couldn’t be. That was never the case. “Do you really want to know that?” The captain and powerhouse ace of Shiratorizawa was questioning you on why you decided to lay about in the sun like a cat? “Yes. I would like to know if that’s okay with you.” “I was-” you stop yourself, why? It wasn’t a secret to want to feel again? And what was Ushijima going to do about it? Nothing, there wasn’t anything he could do- right? Taking another breath, you start again “I was trying to feel again.” Your tone almost mimicking his- borderline monotone. You were met with silence. Normally, you’d be okay with it, but this time it was almost unbearable. Quickly starting back up again “Don’t worry about it though, it’s dumb.”

This seemed to happen more and more often. You would go lie in the sun after school, Ushijima would walk home and see you, and you two would chat. Sometimes he would bring a small gift, hoping it would ‘help you feel again,’ and everytime they would. You enjoyed the feelings you had started to experience whenever you two, and sometimes even Tendou, would hang out on the cement wall in the sun. “Ushi?” you called out the nickname you’d given him after about a month and a half of your wall hang outs. “Yes Y/N?” “Why’d you stay?” Ushijima was quiet. Your question hung heavy in the air as your body leaned against his. “Because I wanted to help you feel.” He stated, but he was holding something back- you could tell. Even if you had an awful time expressing your emotions, it didn’t mean you couldn’t read when others weren’t showing theirs. “Is that the only reason?” Looking up at him with sleepy eyes, heavy from lounging in the sun after walking with him from the gym. A few more moments of silence followed only to be broken by an unexpectedly soft “No.” Waiting for him to continue, you sit up and face him directly. “I stayed because...because I wanted you to feel how you make me feel.”

The next day you gave the sunshine another chance, given that your last attempt abruptly ended. You found your same spot right after school, and this time you brought sunblock just in case a certain captain decided to question you later in one of your shared classes. You dig through your bag, and realize your earbuds are nowhere to be seen amongst the loose school papers, books, and pencils. Not that you minded that sounds of the little suburban area you were at, but your music would have been preferred. You took the time to empty your head of the thoughts that raced back and forth in it. The internal commotion slowly calming down. About 30 minutes passed by before the shadow from yesterday loomed over you once again. “Y/N” Really? Again? “Ushijima, do you walk this way every day?” You say, looking up yet again at the stoic ace. “Yes, my house is just a bit further from here. Why do you ask?” Resisting the urge to smack your palm against your face, you notice the bag in his hands he didn’t have earlier in the school halls. “What’s that?” you point to the bag questioningly. “It’s for you. I asked Tendou what he thought would help with your feelings, and he suggested this-” He hands you the bag. Looking inside you notice the small fuzzy keychain of a cartoon bird. A small smile begins to replace the emotionless thin line on your lips. “I hope this helped.” He says. The keychain itself was childish, you wouldn’t buy it if you saw it in a shop, but somehow the gesture of the serious and stoic man standing before you, giving it to you- showing that he still thought of you even after you’d left. This was something you liked feeling. “It did. Thank you Ushijima.” Looking up from the keychain in your hands you could have sworn you saw a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words. “I couldn’t stop you if I tried.” you jokingly laugh, patting the space next to you.

You were unmoving, still trying to process what he was saying. “Y/N, you make me feel things like when I’m in the middle of a game.” was Ushijima trying to make a metaphor? you thought, still processing his words. “My heart races when I think about you, it feels like electricity shoots through my body when we exchange even a simple hug, and I don’t like the way a sense of longing comes over me when I see you walk away, even if I know I’ll see you tomorrow. I asked Tendou if I should go to a doctor at first because of how much I felt…” he paused recollecting the memory, “he laughed and told me I was in love.” He finished, looking to you for any sign that he should leave, any sign showing that he misread the situation you two were in. “Ushijima, I- is that what this is?” one of your hands reaching for your chest, your heart felt as if it could burst. The once stoic face of Ushijima Wakatoshi was now replaced with that of astonishment and adoration. “Y/N if you would, would you like to go on a date with me?” Emotions over took you, voice momentarily gone as you nodded your head. “Yes, yes I would love to.” Tears welled up in your eyes, you were finally feeling again, and not only that, you were feeling the one thing you had longed for, for so long, love.

Ushijima would continue to bring you little gifts, checking in with you and your feelings. Keychains could be found on any bag or key you owned. And despite his cold, emotionless aura he gave off to the world, he was the one who helped you feel the world again.

#BT extra #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x you #haikyu!!#hq #ushijima x y/n #haikyuu

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forever-rogue · 4 years

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A Good Man - Part 1

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

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: none

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

»»————-　♡　————-««

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

»»————-　♡　————-««

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

»»————-　♡　————-««

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

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

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The Grass is Greener Pt.1/3

Summary: Jaskier's mother is coming to stay and his garden is an absolute mess and his lawn mower has seen better days... luckily for him his ridiculously hot neighbour is there to lend a hand.

Geraskier

CW: Shitty parents being shitty.

(Prompted by @alwenarin and based on this post by @infinite-mirrors)

________

Jaskier stared forlornly out at his garden. His mother was due to come over on her yearly visit and the next few days of his life were going to be hell. His mother was the sort to blast into his life like a fucking tornado, pull apart everything that he had built for himself and leave him broken, shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn’t even sure why he still let her in, probably some childhood trauma that meant he was desperate to please her, to make her proud, but what did he know? He wasn’t a therapist, much to her displeasure. Anything would have been better in her eyes than a musician and occasional bartender.

He didn’t make much money. His band hadn’t taken off yet and only really had a small but dedicated following online that donated pocket money in exchange for small previews of new tracks or little poems that could be given to lovers or in greetings cards. Most of his rent was paid for in the tips he made at the bar. He was lucky to have the house at all really. He shared it with his housemates: Priscilla, his bandmate and ex, Essi, her younger sister, Valdo Marx, his former schoolmate, professional rival and absolutely twat face who lurked in his attic room and never really came out to talk to them, and last but not least, Regis, a kind scholarly type who had been living in the house before the other rooms had become available and most importantly made excellent homemade gin.

Said housemates had agreed to fuck off for the weekend so he could pretend that the house was his in a last ditched attempt win over his mother.

Of course, none of them had helped to tidy up before leaving and he’d spent the last twenty-four hours deep cleaning the house, and bolting the door to Regis’s bathroom shut. The gin in the bathtub wasn’t ready to bottle yet and he wasn’t exactly going to drain the tub of his elixir. He’d moved the furniture in his friend’s rooms around enough to make it look like they weren’t extra bedrooms, more… rooms that just happened to have beds in case he had company. Priscilla’s room now resembled a music room, Essi’s room had been turned into a makeshift study, Valdo’s he’d left a mess and claimed it was just an attic, and Regis’s room was sort of a library if you squinted hard enough.

That just left the garden.

“Bollocks!” He moaned.

None of them really cared much about the garden, apart from the box down the end which housed Regis’s herb garden for cooking. The rest of the garden a mess. The grass was practically a wild meadow filled with weeds. He quite liked it. He enjoyed looking at the dandelions, daisies and buttercups but his mother would have a fit.

Where was he even going to start?

Lawnmower. They must have one. He stumbled through his back door onto the patio and made his way to the shed that honestly barely lived up to its name. It was falling apart and leaked horrendously, but luckily inside was one rusty looking lawnmower.

“Bingo!” He grinned and pulled the mower out of the shed. It was heavier than it looked but luckily Jaskier was also stronger than he looked. Even so he wasn’t entirely how he was going to start the damn thing.

Perhaps Geralt would know…

Fuck.

Geralt.

Geralt had just adopted a newborn baby. Her name was Ciri. Most of the time Geralt just called her ‘Cub’ which Jaskier found to be incredibly endearing, a fact that had nothing to do with his teensy little crush on the mechanic.

He pulled up Geralt’s number in his phone. He’d been delighted when Geralt had given him his number, yes maybe it was because Jaskier kept turning up at Geralt’s doorstep after shifts at work because he’d forgotten his keys and none of his bastard housemates were answering the door and Geralt just happened to have a spare key, but the main thing is he had Geralt’s number.

After that they’d conversed a few times over text. Mostly if one of them was running to the shops and wanted to know if the other needed anything. Occasionally Geralt would text to ask Jaskier if he could watch Ciri for a short while if Geralt needed to leave the house. Once Geralt had even given him a lift to work because Jaskier’s bike had gotten a flat tire and he didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to the bar. So they weren’t exactly strangers but he wouldn’t really call them friends.

In fact Geralt was still listed as Hot Neighbour in his phone. He meant to change it, it was just that you couldn’t argue with the truth. Geralt was his hot neighbour.

J —Hey Geralt! Is it ok if I mow my lawn? I don’t want to wake Ciri if she’s asleep. :)

He stared at his phone intently until about an eternity later, Geralt replied.

G — The child must not be an obstacle.

Jaskier snorted as he read the response. He read it aloud a couple of times trying to mimic Geralt’s rough husky voice and managed to give himself the giggles.

His phone buzzed again.

G — I can hear you laughing at me.

“Oh shit!” He almost dropped his phone and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Sorry Geralt!” He called into the air.

G— Hmm.

Jaskier scoffed. Who text back “Hmm”? And why did Jaskier still find that so attractive?

But never mind that! He had the green light. Operation Finally Make His Mother Proud, or FMHMP for short, and yes you could absolutely say that if you tried hard enough, was go! He was going to mow the lawn like a proper adult!

He tried for about six years to turn the mower on but without any success. He kicked the lawnmower in frustration and the whole damned thing fell apart.

“Fuck it!” He yelled as he hopped about on his good foot that hadn’t been battered by lawnmower.

He sulked back into the house and flopped down dramatically on the sofa. It was over. His mother was going to hate him and he would die as a disgrace to the Pankratz name and the Lettenhove estate.

He was half way through his pity party when the doorbell rang. He grabbed his phone to check the time. Strange, his mother wasn’t due for another three hours.

“What the fuck?” He mused and padded over to the door. To his surprise Geralt was standing on his doorstep with Ciri tucked safely into a baby sling on his chest and behind him was a shiny lawnmower. “Ah. Geralt!” He grinned.

Geralt turned to the lawnmower and back to him. “Thought you might need some help.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right. Yes. Of course. Come on in!” He stood back to let Geralt through. “Oh, actually do you want to come round the side gate? The lawnmower probably shouldn’t come through the house. I’ve just cleaned up.”

Geralt grunted but followed Jaskier around the side of the house and into the back garden.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He grumbled when he saw the state of the lawn. “I thought you said you were mowing the lawn, not trying to find it!”

“Ah, yes, well. That is an excellent point.” Jaskier stammered, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously. “You see my mother is visiting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother, how old are you? Twelve?”

Jaskier gaped at his neighbour. “Geralt!” He whined. “I’m twenty-nine! Mother is just a cow.”

“Hmm. Fine. Let’s do this.” Geralt pulled Ciri gently out of her sling and passed her to Jaskier. “Hold her. I need to grab her stuff. This will take longer than I thought.”

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier called after Geralt but it was too late and Ciri began to cry. “Umm. There there.” He cooed and rocked her gently. “Shall I sing you a lullaby, cub?”

She didn’t answer, babies rarely did, so he decided a lullaby would be fine and began to sing in hushed tones as he rocked her in his arms. Geralt wasn’t long but he seemed surprise to come back to Jaskier rocking his daughter to sleep in his arms.

“Hmm. She likes you.” Geralt noted.

He was carrying Ciri’s car seat and a bag was slung over his shoulder. In his other hand was a large electric contraption with some nasty blades at the end. He dumped the scary looking monster and placed the travel cot on the patio table. Once Ciri was safely asleep they got to work.

Or more accurately, Geralt got to work. Jaskier mostly just watched and made sure Geralt had all the refreshments he needed. He also kept the conversation going by listing all the grievances his mother had with him from her last visit, Geralt hummed and grunted but didn’t offer much in return but it didn’t matter. Jaskier was more than capable of holding an entire conversation by himself.

“And then she starts wittering on about how my sister has a perfect husband and a darling little angel.” Jaskier moaned. “So of course then it’s ‘Julian why don’t you have a wife?’”

“Julian?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glared at his neighbour. “Don’t ever call me that, I beg of you.”

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t. Just asking.”

“And I tell her, for the hundredth time, to say partner or spouse or lover or you know… not gender specific because she knows! Geralt! She knows. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her.” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, umm I’m bisexual just to give you some context there.”

Geralt nodded. “Right.”

“So of course she starts complaining that I always have to make everything gay, and I’m like… ‘Mother, I am gay!’” Jaskier announced with wide arms.

Geralt looked up at him, pausing halfway down the lawn that was now starting to resemble a lawn. “So why not tell her you’re seeing someone?” He asked. “Solve both problems if you say it’s a guy.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Until she asks to meet him.”

Geralt shrugged. “I could do it.”

Jaskier’s heart jumped in his chest. “You what? Geralt!”

“My ex has been bothering me about finding someone.” He grumbled. “Two birds, One stone.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at his insanely hot neighbour who was now apparently suggesting they… fake date??

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” Jaskier asked slowly. “You pretend to be my boyfriend for my mother’s visit and we what? Send a few photos to your ex to prove you’re moving on?”

Geralt smirked. “As long as you promise not to fall in love with me.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

Well fuck. _______

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #dad geralt #surprise fake dating #I could be persuaded to write a second part #let me know if you want part 2 #Update there will now be three parts #ask and you shall receive #the grass is greener

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 3 years

Text

Cuddle Corner (Part 2)

A long time coming, literally ~5 years, the sequel to the original Cuddle Corner. This one was highly requested on ao3 and ff.net, but honestly? I wanted it just as bad.

This story is dedicated to @fruipit. One because your enthusiasm for the original was so energizing, and two, because I still owe you a larger fic but here I am on the one-year-anniversary of that to offer this one instead xD

Edit: for those who love to favorite and comment: ao3 and ff.net are now available!

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

The background buzz of the mall’s food court droned around Anna and Kristoff as they dug into their meals. Work would come calling soon, but it was their lunch break, and the reuben’s they made here were well worth the drive, the parking nightmare, and the overpriced soft drink that came with it.

Kristoff watched Anna. While generally a reserved man, his quiet was different now, observant. After devouring half of his sandwich, the rest remained practically untouched, but Anna was too busy enjoying her food to notice. Too busy that is, until Kristoff cleared his throat.

“I think you should go back.”

Her sandwich stopped halfway to her mouth. "We are not talking about this." "Anna..." Kristoff leaned forward, posture set firm. Anna met his gaze with equal and opposite determination - and to her credit, she gave it her all. But it was like trying to bully a mountain by throwing pebbles, and eventually she closed her eyes, giving in with a measured inhale and exhale. "You know why I can't." "Yeah, so you've told me." "Then you'll have to forgive me for being short," Anna scowled. "I thought I'd made it clear that that could never be allowed to happen again." "So, what?” Kristoff raised an eyebrow. “You're just going to keep yourself on house arrest and never interact with another human being ever again?" Anna put her meal down. Based on the way her stomach was already tightening in knots, she wasn't getting back to it anyway. "Of course not, that's absurd." Kristoff spread his arms, awaiting an explanation. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I care about you, Anna." Kristoff's face softened. "I won't go so far as to say I know how you feel, because I know that I don't and never truly will. But I do know you. And you haven't been yourself since that appointment." Anna stared at the tabletop, arms close to center. "I know you don't want to talk about it," Kristoff continued, "but whatever happened–"

“Nothing happened!” Anna shouted, drawing concerned looks from the other patrons. The words cut like glass. Her throat felt raw, heart bleeding as it pumped jagged pieces through her chest. She drew her hands back even further when Kristoff offered his own from across the table. She couldn’t. Not now.

God, she hated crying.

A foot nudged hers gently. Anna blinked back the tears, remembering where she was and who she was talking to. This was Kristoff, and he knew her better than anyone.

“Anna, you’re hurting.” He tapped his foot on top of hers, doing it again when she remained silent. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “but I can’t watch that big goofy heart of yours shrink in on itself any longer.”

He paused and Anna felt the sharp teeth of dread.

“Was it Elsa?”

Anna’s eyes widened. “No! No, Elsa was… Elsa was perfect.”

“You said it reminded you of before.”

“And I stand by that, sort of.” Another nudge and this time Anna tapped Kristoff’s foot back, bringing a smile to his brown eyes. She gave him one of her own, small and weak in comparison. “Elsa was completely professional. We established boundaries and she constantly checked in on me to make sure I was okay. She never did anything without my say-so and she cared about my well-being.” Anna’s expression soured. “Which is exactly where everything went wrong. We hugged, sat together, swapped stories. I felt like I’d known her my whole life! I was even brave enough to put my head in her lap. I got so caught up that I forgot why I can’t do that sort of thing anymore.”

Kristoff offered his hand again and she took it, grateful for his patience. “When that timer went off, everything came flooding back. Everything. Guilt and fear and crushed hope. I threw all of it in her face. Elsa, she... she didn’t deserve that.” Anna’s shoulders dropped with the admission, a weight slipping the ground. She glanced up at Kristoff and shrugged awkwardly. “You know the rest. I’ve avoided talking about it and spent all my free time at home, trying to get my shit together.” She inhaled shakily. “I really thought I was done with this.”

A soothing thumb brushed the back of her hand. She tentatively reached out with her sneaker, warmth softening the sharp edges in her chest when Kristoff bumped her back.

“I’m guessing that means you haven’t called her back, even though you have her card.” Kristoff leaned forward. “You… do still have it?”

Anna nodded. “Right where I left it, stuffed as far down into my jacket pocket as possible.”

“I think you should call her,” He said after a moment of thought.

“Kristoff.” Anna took back her hand, bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I know you’re just trying to help but how many times do I have to say that we, Elsa and I, cannot be a thing? Being ‘a thing’ means spending time together, spending time together means we’ll be affectionate, and being affectionate leads to… more. A-And I can’t give, more.”

“Which is why I’m not suggesting that in the least,” Kristoff replied, face set. “I’m merely saying you call her so she doesn’t think you hate her.”

Ouch. That hurt.

“You’re not the kind of person to wrong someone,” Kristoff continued, “let alone wrong someone and not apologize.” More gently he added, “I know you enjoyed spending time with her, anxiety aside. You’re not even going to give her the chance? Not even to be friends? Professional chums?”

“I don’t know, Kristoff,” Anna crossed her arms. “Are you friends with your therapist?”

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh.”

Kristoff grinned. “You were expecting me to say no, weren’t you?” Anna eyed the rest of her meal by way of answer. “I know she’s not your therapist, and trust me, I understand the urge to keep absolutely everything between you and Elsa professional. But sometimes in a space like that, where it’s just the two of you, you have to be honest too. Sometimes the best way for them to help you is to… well, let them help you.”

“Eloquent.”

“Just another way of saying I’m right, which I will take, thank you.”

Anna snorted at his antics, smiling a little too. But in the silence that followed the chilling trace of fear wound it’s way under her skin, trailing beneath her bones. She pressed her fingertips to her sternum. Heart and mind said two different things, and it was too soon to decide whether the fleeting spark of hope Kristoff was inspiring would save or destroy her.

“Please,” Kristoff pleaded, “no more of this. However you need to frame it -- for her sake or yours -- make things right with Elsa.” -------------

Anna steeled herself, dial pad staring accusingly when she hesitated again before punching in the number on the card. Her hand shook as she put the phone to her ear.

She begged for voicemail.

"Hello?” Dammit. “Elsa speaking."

“H-Hey Elsa," she cleared her throat, suddenly hoarse. "It's Anna."

"Anna!" Came the joyful cry, "Wow, Anna I'm... I'm really glad to hear from you." Anna didn't know what to say so she didn't respond. "What can I help you with?"

"I um, I know it’s been forever since we met but I was thinking…” She took a deep breath. She wanted this, didn’t she? “I, wanted to see you again.”

Immediately Anna knew she’d screwed up. “In what way?” Elsa’s voice was dangerously low, cautious in a way that nearly broke Anna’s soft heart. No, not afraid of me, please no.

“As in an appointment,” Anna rushed, backpedaling so fast she felt dizzy.

"Really?” Elsa sounded back to normal, even delightfully surprised. “I mean, of course. That’s why I gave you my number after all.” She laughed, high and breathy. “When would you like to come in?"

Anna hadn't even checked her calendar. Could she be any less prepared? "Um," Anna racked her brain, trying to find an open slot, "how about Saturday?"

"Saturday is good. I have a noon and a four o'clock, whichever works better for you."

"Four is better."

"Great! I'll see you then," Elsa exclaimed. There was a moment of quiet, then, "And hey, Anna?"

Anna swallowed. Elsa's voice had changed again, completely. It was painfully searching, even if Elsa tried to hide with brevity. "Yeah?"

"Thanks... for giving me a second chance."

Elsa hung up, leaving Anna to wonder how she would manage to survive the next three days.

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

The waiting room was all too familiar, despite the fact she hadn't been back in months. The music hadn't changed, the buddha statue was still fat and happy, and the reeds still looked fake. Or real. Or both.

A different receptionist checked her in, all smiles and good smells. Apricot, Anna realized as she found a seat. Easy, considering she was the only one here, but unfortunate, since all she really wanted to do was hide.

But Kristoff was right, this was going to be for the best. Elsa, though they'd only interacted for an hour, deserved much more than Anna’s surprisingly cold shoulder.

"Anna?" Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard the door open. She looked up and found a pair of eager blue eyes, tempered in a way they shouldn't be. Too cautious.

She'd been hurt.

Shit.

“I’m–. We… are ready to see you now.” Elsa waved her clipboard. “If you’ll just follow me.”

Down the hall, past the same differently decorated rooms. Elsa’s open white button-down flared over black jeans as she walked, pale braided hair swinging back and forth delicately. It was nice, Anna thought, all these stark negatives against the baked clay hue of the walls and stained wood of the picture frames. Well, not negatives, Elsa could never be a negative, not like that. Anna was just appreciating the contrast–

She looked up when Elsa coughed. “We’re here,” she said for what must have been the second time. Anna immediately recognized it as the same room they’d been in when she was here last.

“Is this your room then?” she asked, moving inside.

Elsa shook her head. “We get a room assigned at random unless the client specifies. Technically you got the one two doors down but I thought since you knew this one and I didn’t want you to feel…” Her eyes changed, losing their confidence. “Unless you wanted another room, then–”

“Thank you,” Anna stopped her, touched by her concern. “This one is perfect.”

Elsa closed the door and handed over the clipboard. “So. Anna. Sign a few places and we can get started, same as last time.” She froze, searching Anna’s face. “Or not the same since, well…,” she trailed off.

They both looked at the door handle.

Anna swallowed, fighting the anxiety suddenly clogging up her throat. She realized that if this was going to work, she was the one who needed to set expectations too. Anna scribbled her name, then tucked the pen under her thumb and held out her other hand, palm up. “It won’t be the same,” she said with a confidence she was still finding. “It’ll be better.”

She saw Elsa hesitate, meeting Anna’s gaze instead. Her expression was schooled but Anna saw the cheer in her eyes. “That’s cheating,” she replied, humor lending warmth to her voice, “your time hasn’t started.”

“Then let’s start.”

Now Elsa smiled, unfiltered and without shadow.

Elsa set another timer on her phone, laying it down on the table. Caught up by the slowly ticking numbers on the screen, Anna nearly started when Elsa took the hand she’d offered before. Thankfully, Anna turned the reflex into a motion towards the bed. “Shall we?”

Elsa raised an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done to Anna Fields?” She chuckled, but let herself be led across the room.

“Ms. Fields has had a lot of time to think.” Anna settled herself on the side of bed, dropping her purse off her shoulder. “And she’s got some things to say.”

The mattress dipped on her right as Elsa settled next to her. Their hands were still connected. Anna took a deep breath, settling her nerves, “Starting with, ‘I’m sorry’.” Elsa made a humming noise and rubbed her thumb across Anna’s knuckles. “I’m sorry that I left things the way I did, I promise I’m not usually so… volatile. I know I didn’t explode on you or anything but, it must have felt like a switch got flipped. One second perfectly relaxed, the next…” In her mind Anna heard the timer again, felt the tightening pull of her muscles, saw the half remembered steps to the door. Her free hand clenched over her knee. “A-And I wouldn’t look at you, I couldn’t.” She felt Elsa’s eyes on her now, and the irony that Anna was struggling to meet her gaze, still, wasn’t lost on her.

When a few moments passed without either speaking, Elsa shifted, kicking her shoes off and pulling her legs up onto the bed. “I know you have more to say, and I want to hear it. But we are the Cuddle Corner after all. Can we try this?” Elsa moved behind her, then turned her back and sat cross-legged, facing the opposite wall. “I think you’ll like this one,” she said, speaking a little louder so her voice carried. “Just mirror what I’m doing, and rest your back against mine.”

Anna thought about it, but only for a moment before she reoriented herself and slowly eased against Elsa. Then she shifted, straightening her back and sitting up taller. Of course Elsa had good posture. At least, better than her own.

“Relax,” Elsa said calmly, though Anna heard the distinct upward lilt of humor buried in that one word. “And when you’re ready, place the back of your head on mine, too.”

Anna could feel every one of Elsa’s breaths, expanding lightly against her spine. It was distracting, but pleasantly so, soothing and gentle. Finally Anna tilted her head back, looking straight ahead.

“How are you doing?” Elsa asked.

Anna closed her eyes and breathed deep. Her awareness traveled from her head to her center, where things were still a little messy, but more calm than before, quieter. “Better,” she replied honestly.

“Good.” She felt Elsa raise her chin. “Try to keep looking forward. You’ll want to speak to the side or turn your head, to see my facial expressions. But,” she paused. Anna heard the smile step into her voice and she couldn’t help the one that grew to match, “part of this exercise is to trust what you feel and hear coming from the other person, without relying on what you see. Is that still okay?”

Anna straightened again. From the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, she felt a peace steal over her. Maybe it was something about the position, or maybe it was the rhythm of Elsa’s breath. She wrapped that feeling around her like a cloak, snug, overlapping her heart.

In answer, she continued where she left off.

“At the end of last session I… wasn’t myself. I shouldn’t have left like that. Shouldn’t have left you like that. You didn’t deserve it, especially because, well, it wasn’t your fault.” Anna shifted, attempting to look over her shoulder before remembering Elsa’s advice. “I want to make that very clear: you, Elsa? Did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right. You just, pah-,” Anna made a little outward motion with her hands, a small explosion, “made everything work, just for a moment.” Anna felt more than heard Elsa’s small giggle against her back and felt her ears get hot. “Yeah I’m, not always the best with words.”

“It’s more common than you think,” Elsa replied. Anna saw her move her hand out of the corner of her eye. “When you can’t see someone it’s normal to raise your voice and use your hands more, since you’re still trying to get your point across with less to work with.” There was that laugh again, hitching against her ribs. “Though I get the feeling you talk with your hands anyway.”

“My family knows not to keep glassware around me after dinner, yes,” Anna snorted. “And Kristoff stocks the break room with extra napkins, just for me.” She rolled her eyes. “Real charmer that one.”

“I think you mentioned this man, Kristoff, the last time you were here too,” Elsa said softly. “He must mean a lot to you.”

“Yeah!” Anna beamed. “He was the first friend I made at my job and now…,” she paused, considering, “well now I think he’s my best friend.”

Elsa made a noise of curiosity, a little wordless question. “I would have thought he was your brother, the way you sound when you talk about him.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Anna sighed, leaning back into Elsa. “It’s probably because we hug and hold hands and he gives me piggy back rides across the parking lot just for the fun of it. I tried to give him one once and nearly broke my knee. I’m strong, but he’s a mountain man.” Anna laughed to herself. “Actually, people think we’re dating most of the time.”

“Oh?” Elsa sounded genuinely surprised, the sound bouncing high off the walls, “you’re not?”

“Nnnnnope!” Anna replied, popping the ‘p’. “I mean he’s sweet and all: attentive, caring, soft-hearted. Anyone would be lucky to have him. But I’ve never thought of him that way.”

Instantly Anna felt a flush creep up her neck, and she sat forward. “W-Well,” she stammered, “not like that like that, I mean. Sure he can be charming in a rough sort of way sometimes and it feels really nice to be held in his arms because he’s so much bigger than me and yes we buy each other gifts just because we know it’ll make the other person happy b-but… I…” she swallowed, staring at the bed spread past her legs. “N-Not like, the anything that comes after… all that.” Anna fussed with the hair behind her ear, self-conscious. “But I suppose if I had to pick a dude, he’d be really great.”

Anna thought she heard an, “Oh,” from Elsa again but she wasn't sure. She realized they weren’t touching anymore, and in the same heartbeat realized that she’d sort of, almost, accidentally come out to Elsa.

A pit opened in her stomach, enough that her heart dropped just a little, enough for anxiety to find a little home and buzz through her chest.

It was a soft ball, an underhand throw, of a coming out, easily brushed aside or misinterpreted. Elsa was professional, she probably wouldn’t even ask.

Anna really wanted her to ask. But she also really didn’t.

But mostly she just didn’t want Elsa to feel weird about her.

“Anna?”

Elsa was looking at her, over her own shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Anna blinked. “Am I--. Of course I’m okay. Oh, shit,” she scooched backwards until she felt Elsa’s waist again and leaned back, touching her head to Elsa’s. “I left the position, sorry.”

Elsa was quiet for a moment, and Anna swore she could feel Elsa’s thoughts winding themselves down her spine. But Elsa’s next words held only warmth. “It’s more about the exercise than anything else,” she said, and Anna could tell she was still speaking over her shoulder, directly to her. “You can leave it at any time, for any reason. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, promise,” Anna twisted to face Elsa. “I think I’m just really bad at… explaining… myself…”

Elsa’s eyes softened and for a moment Anna couldn’t see anything else. They were so close. She’d turned and now they were breathing the same air. Inches. Centimeters.

He used to call this kissing distance.

“Anna?”

“Yes?” Anna murmured. Every nerve in her body was aware of itself. Her skin prickled with their energy, thorned as a rose.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Ever,” Elsa stated firmly. She leaned back into Anna, the smallest upward turn on her lips. “I don’t need to understand to care.”

But Anna saw that she did understand. And better, that Elsa wasn’t afraid of her, or anything Anna brought with her.

And that was… a lot.

Anna closed her eyes, took a deep breath--

And flopped down against the plush mattress.

She heard Elsa laugh behind her hand as she opened her eyes. “Too much?” Elsa asked, humor making lines around her eyes.

“No, not too much, just,” Anna mulled her words over, “you make it sound so easy. You make this so easy,” Anna gestured with both hands to the space above her head broadly, encapsulating the room and everything in it, physical and immaterial. “I started out apologizing, and those thoughts were all tangled up in my head because I wanted to be sincere and make this time different and it is different, so different, and I guess now I’m just, really… really grateful.”

Elsa nodded as Anna finished. “There’s a part of me that wants to say, ‘Well, it’s my job after all’, but I really am glad that I’ve been able to help, Anna.” She laid herself down too, on her side, propping her head up on her hand. “And in case you’re the kind of person that needs to hear it: I forgive you, Anna, so you don’t need to apologize anymore.”

A great breath washed out of Anna. She stared up at the ceiling, arms outstretched. “Thank you.”

After a brief pause, Elsa replied, “I’d actually already forgiven you, before you got here.”

Anna sat up on her elbows. “What? Why? I hadn’t even said anything yet!”

“It was the fact that you called at all.”

“But--! That doesn’t…”

Elsa held up her hand and shook her head. “You’re overthinking it,” she said gently, “which is alright, since that’s what I pegged you for anyway.”

Anna went to reply but stopped herself, trapping the air in her cheek. Then, she said, “You know, it’s not terribly cuddly to insult your clients, Elsa.”

“Hmm, true,” Elsa acquiesced, though her tone begged to differ. “What I mean is, you struck me as a ‘Thinker’ is all, even on your first visit.”

“A ‘Thinker’?” Elsa nodded again. “Like the guy who sits on a rock all serious-like?”

“Not quite,” Elsa chuckled, “although at times I’m sure that makes for a good analogy. I can explain it for you, but we’re still on your time here.” Elsa sat up, cross-legged, similar to Anna’s first visit. “The last few times I’ve been making the suggestions to help you relax, but I saw you take initiative when you first got here, and I want you to feel like this is your space as well. Now, as much as you’re comfortable, what do you want me to do?”

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Anna gulped. It wasn’t that big of an ask, and it made sense. Boundaries, two sets. A middle ground of mutually agreed upon comfort and engagement. She could do this.

Elsa sat patiently, in no rush at all. Anna looked back up at the ceiling and pondered. Suddenly a phantom feeling stole over her. Another time, another place. Someone warm next to her. A starlit sky above, cold ground below.

“On my stomach,” Anna said out loud. She turned her head and saw Elsa’s bewildered expression. “Sometimes when Kristoff and I hang out we lay on each other, and we’ll put our heads on the other’s belly.” Anna felt her face heat up a little, knowing it sounded more intimate than it really was. At least, not that way, but people usually didn’t believe that. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can think of another one.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?”

Anna blinked. “Huh?”

“Won’t it hurt?” Elsa rephrased. “Heads weigh more than people think, and stomachs are notoriously soft.”

A beat passed.

Then Anna laughed.

At first it was small, like the quick kind of chortle and dash of amusement from an inside joke, but it rapidly changed to loud, full from her chest laughter, curling her legs towards her ribs in an attempt to contain it. Elsa’s concern was so endearing, and it soothed parts of Anna that were still hidden in the dark, but it was also utterly silly, too.

And that made the last trace of Anna’s trepidation disappear like mist in the morning.

“Notorious is a strong word,” Anna managed past her giggles. “I’m not sure who told you that, but maybe that’s just about your head.” One of Elsa’s eyebrows raised to acknowledge the comment, but as smooth as she tried to pass herself off, Anna could see how her mouth twitched with her own tamped laughter.

“It’s not terribly cuddly to insult your local professional, Anna,” she mimicked, sending Anna back into hysterics.

“I’ll… be fine,” Anna wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye as she flattened out again. “Kristoff is literally twice your size, I think I’ll make it.”

“Okay well,” Elsa lowered herself down, resting the back of her head lightly on Anna’s side with barely any weight at all. “Like this?”

“Yeah except you’re going to put your neck out like that,” Anna teased. “I said it was okay, Elsa. Trust me this time.”

After a moment of hesitation Elsa moved further back until she was fully settled, her shoulders hitting Anna’s hip and lower ribs. She sighed, making a few more adjustments until Anna could tell she was comfortable too.

They breathed in silence for a while, listening to each other. Anna realized she hadn’t eaten in a while and worried, briefly, that her body might make that fact known, but she supposed it wasn’t anything Elsa hadn’t heard before.

“So what were you saying earlier?” Anna re-broached the subject. “About how I… think things too much?”

“It’s not always the amount that you’re thinking,” Elsa chuckled. Anna felt the sound reverberate across her stomach and chest, warm and light. Elsa talked upwards, her head rising and falling in time with Anna’s breathing. “People process things in a lot of different ways, but many find that conceptualizing two categories - Thinking and Feeling - helps them more easily navigate those styles. Some people analyze and scrutinize and run over scenarios from as many angles as they can, and sometimes they do that to an excessive amount, which can cause more anxiety than it reduces. And some people,” she reached out and patted the bedspread. It was probably just to indicate that she was speaking about Anna, like the back to back exercise where they couldn’t see each other, but for some reason Anna reached out too, and put her hand beneath Elsa’s. She heard Elsa smile as she continued explaining, curling their fingers together. “Some people just have emotions that drift and bounce and trace around their body all the time. They’ll sit with a feeling until they’ve experienced all that it can give. Maybe they experience joy that floats them for hours, but they also feel sadness that sinks them into a sea of their own making.” Elsa turned her face towards Anna. “I’m fairly certain you’re the first one.”

“Huh.” Anna thought for a moment, feeling Elsa’s weight with every inhale. “So you’re a Feeler then?”

A smile tugged at Elsa’s lips. “How did you know?”

Anna shrugged. “I didn’t really, I just guessed.” She looked back up, rubbing the back of Elsa’s hand idly with the pad of her thumb. “Although, now that I think about it, you’ve always been thought-ful. Always checking in on me, asking me good questions --those always felt more experienced than logical though, if that makes sense. But the reasoning behind them seems more intuitive, like you just… know.” Anna paused, struck by something. “Actually, I didn’t have the word for it then, but I think I noticed it back when I called you.”

“To… schedule this appointment?” Elsa asked, sounding a little mystified.

“Yeah. It was in the way your voice changed when--,” and now Anna stopped because she felt embarrassment crawling up the nape of her neck. “When I said I wanted to see you again.”

“Oh.” Elsa turned her head to look at Anna. She had the smallest grimace on her face. “Sorry, that was pretty unprofessional of me.”

“On the contrary, I think checking to make sure your clients aren’t developing that kind of attachment to you is probably the most professional thing to do.”

“Well the paperwork helps,” Elsa hummed, “but you’re not wrong. Thankfully I haven’t encountered that problem yet, but I know some co-workers have.”

“It makes sense. I mean, this is the kind of thing most people imagine couples doing.”

Elsa shrugged. “Not everywhere. There are places where this is normal for family and friends, where physical affection isn’t locked behind the potential marital status of the individuals. And frankly, it’s normal here too, but not everyone experiences intimacy the same way.”

Intimacy.

The word clings to Anna’s throat, even though she hadn’t said it. A tightness, a dark line from neck to stomach, pooling invisibly around light Elsa’s hair.

“That’s good!” Anna blustered. “For them I mean, the people who get it. Wait no, not that the people who don’t feel that way are like-- What I mean to say is that that’s good! That people do that, somewhere: here, there, anywhere. I didn’t mean to say that people who don’t are doing bad, just, like, ‘Hey, good for them!’, you know?” She smacked her free hand over her eyes with a groan. “Grammar and statement of purpose have abandoned me. Feel free to tell me to stop talking whenever.” She felt Elsa’s laughter in the bunching of her shoulders against her stomach.

“Thinker,” Elsa chastised warmly.

And then it just became… chatter.

Catching up, laughing at anecdotes, learning about the other. Elsa asked about Anna’s job and Anna responded that she was training some promising new hires who were positively electric about their fields. Anna asked Elsa about her day job, making a mental note to check out a charity event a few blocks from her work. The first appointment seemed like a lifetime ago, and now that the air was clear and they’d settled, a lifetime seemed like just the thing to fill up the room.

Until Elsa scrunched her eyes up and said, “Okay, I think we’ve got to change positions, I’m getting a little dizzy.”

“I get it,” Anna empathized, “it’s the ups and downs. It gets a little disorienting”

“Yeah.” Elsa sat up and blinked hard a few times, her hand splayed out wide on the bed to keep balance. They’d kept them mostly entwined over the last part of their session, but Anna couldn’t help talking with her hands and it turned out that, at times, neither could Elsa.

Anna stretched, feeling like a cat in a sunbeam. She was as comfy as she was last time with her head in Elsa’s lap, but this time she knew the timer couldn’t surprise her. That enough words had passed between them for old wounds to not rear their heads. And while she didn’t anticipate it, for that would mean the end of her time with Elsa (for now), she did acknowledge it’s reality, and she was not afraid.

But she was damn cozy though.

“You look like you could fall asleep right there,” she heard Elsa say above her head. Anna opened her eyes to mirthful blue.

“I think you’re right,” Anna agreed, blocking a yawn with her hand.

“You’re welcome to take a nap. It’s--”

“--More common than you’d think,” Anna recited at the same time, making Elsa hide a smile behind her hand. There was a lot that Anna had learned in her short time here, but mostly that her knowledge of what people did when they felt safe and comforted was different than she’d expected. But it was a good kind of wrong to be, the eye-opening kind. The kind that made your heart feel a little bigger and softer. “You say that a lot.”

“Well it’s true!”

“I don’t doubt it,” Anna held up her hands, placating. “I’m just saying, it’s like your catchphrase.” Anna swept her outstretched arm in an arc, wiggling her fingers, “‘The more you know!’, with Elsa, the Cuddle Expert.”

Elsa bumped her arm. “You’re a tease. But I mean it, you’ve got time. Even if you don’t fall asleep, laying back and relaxing is part of cuddling you know.”

Anna stifled another yawn and turned onto her side. “I’ll at least sleep on top of the covers,” she replied, her voice dropping as she closed her eyes. “That way you don’t have to wash all the sheets.”

“Well they get washed anytime they’re used, and there’s spares in the hall closets but…,” she heard Elsa snicker, “you really think of everything, don’t you?”

“I think that joke has already run its course,” Anna smiled, then patted the open space in front of her invitingly. “C’mon, you might as well get a break too--.”

The bed dipped behind her.

“Well I can at least keep you warm this way; it’s kind of a classic cuddling position.”

The words were joking and light, Elsa’s voice so close to her ear, practically glowing.

“I don’t know who designed these rooms,” the voice continued, “but they let the air blow right above us. It gets incredibly chilly sometimes, and that’s coming from me of all people!” Forearms braced themselves against her spine, legs pressed against the back of her own, and soft exhales tickled the baby hairs at the nape of Anna’s neck.

And suddenly Anna was not at Cuddle Corner.

Her vision tunneled. The opposite wall retreated, backing itself down a long, dark corridor. Her peripherals feathered, the thorned, hyper-awareness from before screeching back, focused on the blazing points of contact between them.

Anna?

Her back was a ramrod, a live wire. When she breathed the air had nowhere to go, her lungs shallow and tight.

Breath on her neck and hands on her shoulders.

“Anna?”

Elsa’s voice.

Anna gasped, air traveling deeper, chest expanding, and the room returned to normal. Anna licked her lips, nerves settling under her skin, buzzing inside her ribs to join the dark feathers still flitting and hovering there.

“Maybe we should switch.” The words were strained but Anna tried to make them sound casual. To make them sound less like they hurt and more like before, just moments before when everything was perfect.

“...Are you sure?” Elsa replied over Anna’s shoulder. She’d moved away, touch gone, leaving phantom prints behind. Anna hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay…”

The bed moved again. A moment later Elsa lowered herself down in front of Anna, facing away. Her braid was pulled over her shoulder, out of reach, exposing the light skin of her neck. Unable to see Elsa’s expression, Anna swallowed the dark, heavy thing inside her throat and attempted to gauge Elsa’s mood through posture alone.

“You can come close,” Elsa said. A simple and straightforward invitation, but Anna thought she heard an edge creep into it, like something was slicing each letter off at the joint.

“R-Right. ‘Cuddle Corner’,” Anna said with feigned cheer, a little fain-fair. She laughed. Elsa laughed.

It was weird.

Slowly, uncertainty running under her palm, Anna reached her arm across Elsa’s chest. Her legs came up under Elsa’s until their bodies were nearly flush. She could smell Elsa’s shampoo, and felt her breathing against the crook of her elbow.

And she could tell immediately that Elsa wasn’t comfortable either.

There was a weight in the room, a miasma escaping the seams between their bodies. It scraped between Anna’s fingers, threatening to lift her hand up entirely, and take it away. Her eyes unfocused, the lines of Elsa’s body becoming blurred, trembling the way heat makes the air waver and shake.

Elsa turned her head, so Anna could see the barest corner of her eye. “You’re pushing yourself,” she said quietly.

Anna tightened her grip, a wordless promise, but stopped when Elsa flinched. “I’m not.”

I’m not, she told herself. Elsa is a good person. People do this all the time, even friends! This position, spooning… it’s about comfort, not anything else. Just… stop being all up in your head about this.

But Anna could sense herself backpedaling, falling backwards into herself. Right in front of her was the shell of Elsa's ear, the slope of her neck, the curl of her white-blonde hair before it twisted into her braid -- and it made Anna wonder...

Was this... it? Was this what made people fall? A quiet moment, a scrap of skin. Was this enough to make them... feel?

Had it made him feel something, looking at Anna like this?

Warm fingers thread through hers, a bobber dropped into the well of her thoughts. Elsa's hand didn’t hold the sting of fear, and like sunlight on murky water a balm spread at her touch, expanding with each even breath.

But this time, it wasn’t enough.

Anna's thoughts rushed around her head, swirling, clinging, flying like beads snapped away from a string cut under stress. No longer sentences but fragments, worries and doubts in a whirlpool, sucking her down. What hadn't she done? What else could she do? How could she be so cold? Why couldn't she do this, for him? For anyone?

Why wasn't she enough?

The trembling started in her shoulders. She couldn’t stop it anymore than she could stop time. Her arm shook and by the time it reached her wrist Anna silently begged Elsa not to notice.

But of course she did.

Elsa turned in their embrace, her eyes widening for just a moment before she cupped Anna’s face, lightly, so light with her first touches, before brushing away a tear.

Anna hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“It’s okay Anna, you’re safe here.”

Anna hiccuped, her chest stuttering as more tears splashed against Elsa’s thumbs. She found Elsa’s forearms and held her tight, needing something beneath her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely.

Elsa shook her head. “Don’t be. You’ve apologized more than you’ve ever needed.”

Then Elsa’s forehead is nestled against Anna’s own. Anna doesn’t know how to react as Elsa’s eyes slip closed and she breathes slowly, carefully, like she’s counting the second. Anna feels herself matching the time, even as the sobs she harbored keep trying to find a way out. They get smaller, a boulder, then a rock, then a pebble in her lungs. Elsa’s soft exhales washed over Anna’s face, her very presence a well of tranquility, like immersing one’s hand in the cool waters of a brook. Elsa felt like flowing water, a place Anna could lay down the things that dragged her down, setting them adrift, letting the current carry them for a while.

Anna didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Long enough for the tears to start to dry, and the rawness of her throat to begin healing. But it couldn’t last forever.

Again the patter of rain, the rumble of thunder, and the distant, muted buzz of Elsa’s phone vibrating across the room. Anna exhaled a shuddering breath.

“The timer,” she croaked, voice like sludge, addled by tears.

“Ignore it,” Elsa murmured, pressing her face closer.

“B-But it’s over--”

“It’s okay.”

Anna attempted to shake her head, but Elsa merely brushed her cheeks with her thumbs. “You have another client. Another appointment.”

“I don’t.”

“Elsa…”

“Anna.” Elsa opened her eyes.

This close, Anna couldn’t mistake what she saw. Even if she didn’t have a name for it. And maybe there wasn’t a name to call the emotion heavy in Elsa’s eyes -- the eyes of a still-stranger, an almost-friend -- but whatever it was settled the last prickling nerve in Anna’s heart, soothed the last lash in Anna’s memory, and finally let her breathe long enough to listen. “I don’t have another appointment, you were my last for the day. An extra minute isn’t going to hurt anyone.” Elsa watched Anna’s face as she combed stray hairs back behind Anna’s ear. “I don’t want you leaving this place thinking you have to shoulder everything you came in with. It’s okay to leave some of it here, here with me, if that helps.” She smiled, her eyes wet. “It’s my job to make you feel comfortable, relaxed. But I also want you to feel that way, as Elsa, as me. I think you have a lot going on, and I want to help with that if… if you’ll let me.”

This time Anna closed her eyes, overwhelmed again. Unconsciously she leaned more into Elsa’s touch, which was enough for Elsa to continue. “You don’t have to decide today. Just know that I’m here for you, if you need me. But for now just,” and she shrugged, the motion taking Anna’s head with her, causing them both to laugh, “leave the timer be. It’ll take care of itself.”

They stayed like that. The timer silenced itself, and with the quiet came rest. Anna knew she didn’t fall asleep, but she thought she might when Elsa started playing with her hair again. Eventually, Anna knew she had to go and rolled over, sliding her shoes back on her feet. She heard Elsa do the same as Anna gathered her things.

“Should I expect another call?” Anna turned, shouldering her bag. Elsa sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, expectant.

Though she knew her cheeks were already blotchy from tears, Anna felt another emotion color her face, and instead of feathers in her chest there were butterflies in her stomach.

"Yeah," she returned, putting a hand on the back of her neck. "But I think I'm going to have to do some thinking first, again. Which I'm sure you already expected."

"Maybe a little." Elsa tilted her head, never losing her warmth. "But take all the time you need. And talk to others, too. Kristoff seems like a good place to start, if you haven't already."

Anna snorted, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. "Oh don't worry, I'm sure he's left three voicemails by now wondering how this all went."

"And how did it go?”

Anna beamed. “Better.”

“Such glowing praise,” Elsa teased. “I’ll take it I suppose.”

Anna took a step back, towards the door, then hesitated, and turned back.

"More to say?" Elsa asked.

"Um..." Anna paused, then blushed again. "Actually, I did, but now I can't really find the words. It was ‘thank you’, again, but then there was other stuff and it got a little lost."

Elsa hummed at that, propping her chin up in her hand. "Knowing you, even for a short time, I'm sure they'll work themselves out eventually. Probably with hand motions."

Anna laughed and agreed. "Probably with hand motions. And maybe sound effects."

“You'll have to tell me,” Elsa smiled lightly, showing bright in her eyes. “Next time?”

Anna smiled back. “Next time.”

#please let me edit my tags you pos website >xD #OH I CAN DO IT ON MOBILE BUT NOT DESKTOP 🤣🤣🤣 I hate >xD #[clears throat] .....anyway #Cuddle Corner (Part 2)#my writing #fruipit #Anna #Elsa #not that I’m not confident but fingers crossed that you (and y’all) like it #Client!Anna #Cuddler!Elsa #wow these tags are literally 5 years old WOW #but I’ll add these too:#ace!Anna #asexual!Anna #I’m going to eat now though bc I’m STARVING I skipped dinner to finish this and get it posted #laser focus - but now I hUNGER #time to go eat my fridge

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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part Two

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry. (No smut yet, getting closer though.)

Part One

Harry drove straight to Niall’s apartment, and banged on the door as soon as he got there.

“Good thing I didn’t have a woman over!” Niall says to him, letting Harry walk in. “So, how was the date?”

“It was great, actually.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, I wouldn’t set you up with some idiot.”

“Well, you have before.”

“And yet you still trusted me.” Niall’s phone buzzes, he check it and smiles.

“Is that her?”

“Oh no, I’m not stayin’ in the middle of this. Did you give her your number?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, so text her.”

“It’s too soon. Maybe in a little while I certainly won’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Did anything happen between you two?”

“She kissed me on the cheek before she got into her car. I would have liked to do more, but I didn’t want to push it.”

“Good idea. I won’t fill you in on too much because it’s not my story to tell, but she’s been burned in the past, so taking it slow with her is smart.” Harry plops down on the couch.

“She’s so smart, and funny. There was never a lull in conversation. And she complimented my nails. Like, she genuinely liked them.”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“I don’t know, you know how some people can be.”

“When do you think you’ll see her again?”

“No idea. I don’t want to seem too eager.” Niall’s phone buzzes again. “It is her! What is she saying?”

“Nothing, she just thanked me for setting her up with such a nice guy, and that she had a really nice time.” Harry smiles a toothy smile.

“We really did have a nice time. Ugh, the dress she wore, it was breathtaking.” He slaps his forehead with his palm.

“What?”

“I’m such an idiot, I never even complimented her appearance.”

“That could be a good way to start a conversation over text later.”

“Brilliant! I’ll give it an hour or so.”

Harry left Niall’s after an hour. When he got home, he settled into a pair of sweatpants, and got cozy on his couch, flipping the TV on. He grabbed his phone and texted you.

“I had a great time tonight. I forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked.” He awaited your reply nervously. Within five minutes, you responded.

“I had a great time too, and thank you!” You had sent along the smiling emoji with the blushing cheeks.

You two texted back and forth for about an hour, until you passed out. He figured as much when you stopped responding, and put himself to bed. The next morning you frantically texted him.

“So sorry, I fell asleep!”

“G’morning beautiful.” He promptly responded. This sent butterflies through your stomach and made you squeal. Suddenly you were in high school again, getting excited over as something as simple as a good morning text. “What are you up to today?”

“Just the usual Sunday routine, cleaning, grocery shopping, meal prepping. All that fun stuff ;)”

“Sounds about the same as my routine, lol”

The texting dwindled by midday. You both got busy with other things. Sunday evening you decided to do a little self-care, and put a clay mask on while watching TV. Just as you were settling in, you heard the buzzer for your apartment, and saw a missed call from Niall.

“Is it just you down there?”

“Of course, who else would be with me?”

“You know who!”

“Would ya just let me up?!” You rolled your eyes and buzzed him in.

He immediately burst into laughter when he saw your face. You swatted at him to stop. You went into the bathroom to wash everything off.

“What are you even doing here?” You asked, coming back into the living room. He was now seated on your couch.

“I wanted to hear about your date.”

“It couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” You asked, sitting down next to him.

“No because we would just get interrupted with work. He came over last night right after.”

“Really?” You perked up.

“Mhm, he had a great time. Did he end up texting ya?”

“Yeah we talked all night, and he said good morning to me today. It was so sweet.”

“Oh good, he was nervous it would be too soon to contact you.”

“You don’t have to do this y’know.”

“Do what?”

“Become this middle man.”

“S’not what I’m doin’. I just wanted to see how you were. I’m your friend, and I never want to see you how were like that last time.” A flash back to your horrible appearance from your depressive episode plays in your head.

“That was over a year ago. I’m much better now. I saw a therapist remember? I wasn’t treated right, and I blamed myself, but I don’t anymore. That guy was just a jackass. Harry seems really sweet.”

“He is, he’s one of the nicest guys I know.”

“He told me you became really good friends because you both don’t like wearing clothes.” You can’t hide your laughter.

“That asshole.” He laughed along with you.

The next day at work, you brought Niall a coffee. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. You hadn’t texted anymore, but you didn’t think much of it. Around noon, just before you went to meet Niall for lunch, you got a call. You saw Harry’s name, and closed your office door.

“Hello?”

“Afternoon beautiful.” You blush and silently squeal to yourself.

“Afternoon, handsome.” You hear a small chuckle. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’, I was just wonderin’ when I could see ya next.”

“Oh, well, how about Friday after work?”

“Too long from now. Do you not go out on school nights?” He teased. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Something like that. I like to go to the gym after work, and by the time I get home I eat dinner, shower up, have a little time for TV, and then go to bed.”

“I suppose Friday could work. Honestly, if I met you for lunch or something I don’t think I’d be able to let you go back to work.” He said in a playful tone, trying not to sound controlling.

“Did you have anything in mind? Dinner again?” You didn’t mind going out to eat again.

“Sure, we could do that. Something less formal though.”

“That sounds good to me.” There’s a knock on your door. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you later to flesh out the details.”

“Alright, talk you soon.”

You hang up and open your door to find Niall, he sighs with relief.

“Christ, I thought you left and I was going to be forced to eat with those old biddies.”

“I would never do that to you.” You grab your lunch box and head with him to the break room. “Harry just called, we’re going out Friday after work.” You say, both sitting down at a small table.

“That’s great! Where are ya gonna go this time?”

“Don’t know yet.” You shovel some food into your mouth. “Somewhere more casual. I’d love to go like one of those adult arcades or something, maybe I’ll suggest that.”

“Oh he’d love that. But be careful, he tends to get competitive.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” You smile at your friend. You know he means well, and you appreciate him looking out for you.

That night after work, you decide to be bold and give Harry a call after getting home from the gym.

“Good evening.” He says.

“Hey, sorry for not getting back to you earlier, I had meetings all afternoon, I barely got anything done.”

“S’no problem, love.” Must be a British thing that he keeps calling you love.

“I thought of something fun we could do Friday.”

“Oh really? Lemme hear it.”

“How about going to one of those adult arcades? Like Dave and Busters?”

“Oh, that sounds like great fun. They have dinner and stuff there too. I don’t think there’s one around here though.”

“There’s a place like it, sort of an off brand version. I’ve been a couple times with my girlfriends, it’s a lot of fun.”

“Sounds good to me. Good way to blow off steam at the end of the work week.”

“For sure.”

The place you suggested was called Pinz. It was this massive adult arcade that also had bowling. There were two giant bars, and plenty of places to sit and have a meal. You had been for a bachelorette party and it was so much fun. There’s something for everyone to do.

You and Harry text and call each other throughout the week. By the time Friday rolls around you’re extremely excited to see him face to face again. You pack everything you’re going to wear that night in your work bag as you agreed to meet around six. The day went by surprisingly quick. You locked your office door so you could get changed. You put on a dark pair of skinny jeans, and a pair of black booties. Next you put on a red short sleeve top. You changed necklaces, and freshened your perfume. Your hair was in a high, wavy pony, and you liked the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders, so you kept it like that. As you walked out, you bumped into Niall.

“Well don’t you look lovely?” He said.

“Aw, thank you. I’m so excited to see him.”

“He’s excited too.”

You exchanged goodbyes as you made your way to your cars. You fell a little nervous driving up to the bar. You had second date jitters for sure. You got there a little before six. You wanted to have a drink before he got there, or at least start one. Around six fifteen, half way through your drink, you get a text from him saying he just parked. You smiled and told him you were inside already. Moments later you see him walk in. He was wearing black jeans, which were slightly ripped at the knees. He also had on a pair of boots. He had a green t-shirt on, and smiled the minute he saw you.

When he got over to you, this time instead of a handshake, he took you in for a gentle hug. He noticed the drink in your hand.

“Starting without me I see?” You look down and your face goes red. “Teasing.” He orders himself a drink. “Cool place, it’s massive.”

“Yeah, there’s definitely plenty to do.”

“Would you mind if we ate first? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starved. I had to skip my lunch today.”

“Of course!”

You two are seated in just a few minutes. Harry frowns when he looks at the menu.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, just a lot of like chicken wings and ribs and stuff. Not sure what I can eat is all.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I figured we’d get some apps like mozzarella sticks or spinach dip, I completely forgot you don’t eat cheese. If you want we can leave and come back.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll get a salad or something. Look here, chips and guac. Do you like guacamole?”

“Love it!”

“Then we can split that if you like.” He gives you a smile, and you feel at ease.

You both get a garden salad, and the chips and guac. Once you’re both properly fed, you get two more drinks, and head over to the arcade section. You start off the with basketball game. Usually Harry would be competitive, but he gets distracted by the way your shirt subtly lifts up when you shoot, just barely seeing your midriff. He notices your belly piercing and smirks. He makes up his baskets, and ends up beating you at the game.

Next you go to ski ball, which you end up beating him at, not that either of you were keeping score. You both shied away from the games that were literally just for winning tickets. You share many laughs, and before you know it, you’re drunk. How did you manage to get drunk at the arcade? Salad. You literally ate the lightest thing on the menu. He seemed to be a bit buzzed, but doing better than you.

“Mind if we sit for a bit?” You ask him. Music was starting to play. The DJ must have just gotten there. Oh yeah, there’s a dance floor here too, you remember.

“Sure thing.”

You find a high top to sit at, and Harry gets you both some water.

“Thank you, I’m parched.” The cold water slaps the back of your throat, careful not to drink too much in fear of throwing up.

“This place is great.” He smiles at you.

“I’m glad you’re having a good time. I never asked you earlier, why did you skip lunch?” A little hiccup comes out, and you cover your mouth.

“Just a busy day shootin’ pictures. We had a tough time getting the lighting just right. I’m too picky for my own good sometimes.”

“Do you ever travel for work?”

“Sometimes, not as often as I used to. I don’t quite like traveling anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well for work at least. I mean, I’m about to turn twenty-six, it was getting old barely spending time at my apartment that I pay way too much rent for to not actually live in it. I’d rather travel on my own time, and take pictures that I want to take. Not just follow a shot list.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” You say nodding along to his story. He looks at his watch. It’s already nine.

“Not to sound too forward or anything, but would you care to get outta here? I’m not much one for dancing, and it’s getting louder in here by the second.”

“Sure!”

You stand up, and he puts his hand on the small of our back to help guide you through the people. As you walk outside the fresh air hits you, and it feels amazing. You look up at him concerned.

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“I think I’m too drunk to drive.” He laughs.

“Don’t worry, love, I can drive us.”

“You’re okay to?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have that much, remember you were a whole drink ahead of me.” He winks at you. “I can always pick you up tomorrow to get your car.” You appreciate that he’s clear about not spending the night together.

“That would be great. We can go hang out at my place if ya want?” You slur. “Might be easier if you already know where I live.”

“That works.”

He walks you to his car, and opens the door for you. You give him your address and he puts it in the GPS. You sober up a bit on the drive, but definitely still feel a buzz. You walk up the steps of your apartment, and open the door for him. You key in, and thank god you had thought to clean up.

Your apartment was cute and simple. It was a one bedroom, and you had an en suite bath. There was a half bath next to the coat closet as you first walked in. That was partially why you rented this specific place. You loved having a bathroom right there in case you really needed to pee. As you walk in to the main area there was an open concept kitchen and living room. You used a futon on as your couch so guests had a place to sleep if need be.

“This is a nice place you have.” He says looking around.

“Thanks, it’s definitely a big girl apartment. It’s nice to finally make enough money where I don’t need a roommate.”

“I know the feeling. It was nice living with Niall for so long, but after a certain point you just want your own space.”

“Can I get you anything?” You ask walking over to the kitchen, he follows and sits down on one of the stools at your island.

“Just some water would be great, love.”

You fill up two glasses of water, and hand him one. You guzzle yours down, and fill up another immediately. You realize how much you need to pee.

“Pardon me, I’ll be right back.”

You go use your bathroom, and freshen up your makeup. When you walk back out Harry has made himself comfortable on your couch. You see him scrolling through his phone. He smiles up at you when he notices you. He pats the spot next to him, and you sit down, tucking one leg under yourself.

“What’s your apartment like?” You ask, trying to think of something to say.

“Sorta like this actually. Only mine’s a studio.”

“Oh, you don’t mind just having your bed out?”

“I don’t have guests over often. I work a lot on the weekends sometimes. It’s enough space for me.” He gives you a half smile. “I’m sure eventually I’ll get something bigger, but for now it works. Less to clean too.”

“Good point. I started out in a studio when I first moved out of my roommate’s place, but I felt like I was in an oversized dorm. Once I saved up some money I got this place. Been here a little over a year now.”

“It’s a nice neighborhood too.”

“Yeah! No creeps in this building either. I feel really safe. Plus Niall doesn’t live too far away either.”

“Definitely nice to have a friend close by. Where do your girlfriends live?”

“A couple of them live together on the other side of town. My best girlfriend just got married about six months ago. Her and her boyfr-husband live in the suburbs in their house.”

“Wow, a house.”

“I know right? He’s an oral surgeon so he makes a ton of money. I think he covered their entire down payment.”

“Did she marry him for that fact?”

“No, they were friends for a long time actually. One day they both went out, got drunk, and hooked up. Next thing we all knew they were a couple.” You look down for a second then back up. “It really changed the group dynamic if I’m being honest. We all stopped hanging out as much, it was hard. But I’m happy for them. Then I met Niall at work and things got better too.”

“Can I ask, did you and Niall ever go out?”

“Oh, god no. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the accent had me swooning when we first met, but he’s more like a brother to me than anything. I wouldn’t survive that job without him. I’m not sure why he and I became such fast friends, but I’m glad we did.”

“He raved about you for a long time, and I always told him to just ask you out, but I’m glad he didn’t.” He lets out a nervous laugh.

“He’s just sweet like that.”

“He mentioned one time that you had really been through it, and he knew you were better off having a friend.”

“Yeah, um, a little over a year ago something happened, but…”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even brought anything up.”

“No, it’s okay. Maybe I’ll tell you some other time, but not tonight.”

“Fair enough, sorry.” He gives your bent knee a little squeeze, and takes it away. You miss his touch immediately.

“It’s okay, really.” You smile. “Sometimes I just don’t have a great judge of character I guess.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What made you agree to a blind date?”

“I don’t know exactly. I was sort of getting sick of the online dating thing. Most of those things were just for hook ups anyway. I know twenty-four isn’t old, but I just felt like I was getting too old for it. I have to say, I wanted to cancel with you.”

“Why’s that?” He says, fake offended.

“Because I couldn’t find you online anywhere! I found your Instagram, but there was no picture of you. I practically stalked Niall’s Facebook, but I couldn’t tell which one you were in any group photo. And he wouldn’t show me a picture of you.” Harry laughs at your sloothyness.

“When I finished grad school I got rid of my Facebook, and turned my Instagram into my brand for my freelance work. I do have a private Instagram though, but it’s under a completely different username.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll show it to me?”

“Perhaps another time.” He winks at you. “I found you online, although I couldn’t see much.”

“My privacy settings are tight.”

“I noticed.”

“So, you saw my face then?”

“I did, and I still wanted to meet you.” You scoff and nudge his shoulder as he laughs at his bad joke. “Teasing.” He puts his hands up. “I saw your picture and couldn’t believe such a beautiful woman was single.” You roll your eyes with a smile.

“You know exactly what to say don’t you?” He shakes his head no. “What made you agree to a blind date?”

“Same reason as you, I guess. Although, I almost didn’t agree because that bastard has set me up with some real stinkers before.”

“Well I’m glad I wasn’t a stinker.” You laugh.

“Me too.” He puts his hand over yours and gives it a squeeze. You slump further into the couch, feeling relaxed by his touch. He furrows his eyebrows for a moment while he looks at you. He reaches his hand up, and swipes his thumb across your cheek bone. You nearly flinch. “Sorry, eyelash.” He holds it up so you can see. “Make a wish.” He smiles. You nearly melt. You close your eyes and blow softly on his thumb.

When you open your eyes back up to look at him, you notice his pupils have gotten larger. He leans in close, cupping your cheek with his hand.

“Is this alright?” He says in almost a whisper. You nod your head yes.

You close your eyes, and feel his lips brush against yours. He kisses you lightly, almost tender. You kiss him back, and lean into him. He puts his hands on your back to pull you a little closer. Your hands press flatly onto his chest. You both sink into the kiss. His lips tasted like mint from the gum he had chewed in his car. You want to part your lips for him to let him in and explore, but you’re also afraid to move too fast. You break the kiss and look at him. His eyes pop open and gives you a concerned look.

“Something wrong, love?”

“No, it’s just, I don’t want this to move too fast.” You try to keep a soft expression to assure him it’s more of a you thing than it is him.

“Alright.” He smiles at you. “Should I be going then?”

“That might be for the best.” He gets up, and you follow him out the hallway. “It was a really nice kiss though.” You say, surely blushing.

“I’d very much like to do it again sometime.”

“Me too.”

“What time should I grab you to pick up your car?”

“Fuck, I almost forgot about that. What time works for you, I’m on your schedule.”

“How about around ten? We could go for brunch if you like?”

“Oh I would love that Harry.” You beam at him. “Thank you for being so understanding tonight.”

“Don’t thank me, (y/n). You told me to stop so I did.” He smiled and shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight.”

You pull him in for a hug, and quick kiss on the lips, which surprises him. He sighs happily when you finish your hug. He leaves and you sigh as well. You could kick yourself. You wanted more of him, you wanted to see how he actually tasted. But you were so scarred from the last time you started seeing someone that you just couldn’t do that to yourself again.

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herohotline · 4 years

Text

Wet Clay (P.1)

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

A/N: alright let's try this again. take 2 everybody

Summary: You’ve been officially hired as U.A’s first school counselor. You’re assigned to help the hero course- learning more about their students and teachers along the way. And if you manage to catch a crush on one of said teachers... You just hope he doesn’t distract you from doing your job.

Word Count: 3,300+

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

If there was one thing you knew about U.A, it was that the school seemed like a never-ending magnet for trouble. They’ve already been on the news twice this year due to villain attacks, and it made you wonder: hey, who’s taking care of the aftermath?

You’ve been working as a freelance therapist for over ten years, and you reached into several things. Family sessions, PTSD recovery, addiction therapy, the works. So with high hopes, you came to U.A one day with a proposal for the principal. Getting a meeting with him wasn’t easy, so you intended to use the time you got with him wisely.

Your meeting was scheduled at a random time of day- the middle of the school day, really, so when you made your way to Nezu’s office, you saw several students. They seemed like busy little bees, rushing over to the cafeteria with smiles- it must be lunch hour. The whole place was insanely big, and you wouldn’t have been able to navigate it on your own- so good thing you weren’t.

Your tour guide sure was loud, though.

“It’s great that Nezu let someone in, but he wouldn’t tell us what it’s for!” The hero you recognized as Present Mic had been chatting animatedly the whole time, and you tried your best to keep up with his energy.

“That’s strange,” you say back to him, adjusting the grip on your briefcase. They checked it at the front gate- happy to see it was only a few business papers. “I don’t think what I’m talking to Nezu about is very secretive.”

Present Mic waves his hand in the air, making a ‘ppsh’ noise with his teeth. “Nezu likes to mess around with us teachers a lot. I’m not surprised! Oh, and here we are!” He spins rather suddenly to face you, presenting the large office doors to you.

You look at it curiously. “...Isn’t Nezu supposed to be a small animal?” How could he fit through the door…?

Mic laughs as if you had made some sort of joke. He opens the door for you, patting your back as you walk inside. “I’ll be here to escort you out when you’re done, good luck!” He whispers- well, his own way of whispering, which is still very loud, before thrusting you in the office and closing the door behind you.

You blink once to try and realize what just happened.

“Ah, ___!” Nezu greets you as you stand still in the rather large office, his little body looking comical behind his desk. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting with you!” Oh boy, here we go. You don’t really appreciate Mic thrusting you into this, literally, but you smooth out your clothes and walk toward the principal’s desk.

“I feel the same way, Nezu,” you smile at him as you shake his little paw across the desk. “I’m glad you’re willing to listen to what I have to say.” He gestures to the seat beside you and you gladly take it, making yourself comfortable.

“Of course. It’s been chaotic but I’m always willing to hear ideas for the school. You mentioned therapy?” The business has begun- but oddly enough, the animal pulls out a tea set and begins to brew.

“Simply put, yes. With all the events that have been happening at your school lately, I believe it’s due time for a therapist to be hired. You’re training heroes, and while it’s important that they’re physically ready for the world of heroics, I believe they should be mentally ready as well.” You take a cup from him, muttering a ‘thank you’ as you continue to give him your proposal. “Just this year, you had a kidnapping. I know you took care of it, but those sorts of things have a large impact on kids- they might be teenagers, but they aren’t fully developed. Then there’s just the thought of studying and working to be a hero- it’s stressful, and I believe every child should have a good outlet for when it gets to be too much.”

Taking a sip of the tea, you hum under your breath. It’s a wonderful citrus flavor.

Nezu smiles. “I looked into you- I hope you aren’t offended, it’s merely what we must do for letting strangers into the campus. You’re a therapist, correct?”

You nod. “I’m not offended, I figured as much. And yes, I am. I’ve been in the field for over 10 years, so I’d like to think I know what I’m talking about when it comes to mental health.”

“Of course! I don’t doubt you!” Nezu laughs- a squeaky little noise. “You’re right, the students deserve a good person to talk to about their struggles. The question is… are you sure you can be that person?”

So he had caught onto you. Yes, more than anything, you wanted to be the one to help these kids. It’s a bit ballsy to walk into an office and suggest they hire you, unprompted, but you believe it’s the right move to make. Nothing will get done if you don’t put the first foot in, after all.

“Yes,” you tell him, as determined as you can. “I would like to be the test driver in this. With how many students U.A holds, one therapist for so many kids is nearly impossible. I’d die of stress before they do,” you pull your briefcase up to your lap and open it, handing him a few papers. “These are the things I’ve planned if you were willing to go through with hiring me. I’d like to focus on the hero course first, a few sessions with each kid throughout a few months. I want to learn about these children, and from what I learn, I can fully deduce what sort of changes need to happen in U.A. Like if my work is even needed here, or what type of therapy should be offered or special programs.”

Nezu flicks through your papers with an impressed smile. “You’ve thought a lot about this,” he says, “you seem to care very deeply.”

“I’m passionate about helping others how I can,” you tell him honestly. “And frankly, if you don’t mind my honesty, U.A is long overdue for a school counselor. Every child deserves to have someone to confide in, plain and simple, Nezu.”

At your statement, he laughs. It’s not because he thinks you’re joking, but he knows you’re right. “I love your attitude!” He says. “And you’ve convinced me. We’ll start our hiring process right away, and you can show me more of your plans. I’m happy you came to me today.”

“Oh, what?” Your eyebrows stand up in shock. “Really? Wh… really?”

“Yes!” Nezu smiles. “I had already decided on hiring you before you came. But meeting you was a pleasure and convinced me more.” He hands out his small paw again and you slowly shake it.

“Welcome to U.A, ___.”

---

Getting home, you looked back at the meeting and for a second you think you were tricked. But you’re soon emailed several background check forms and sessions for drug testing- the works of getting hired at a very cautious school. So you deduce that it’s not a trick- but it’s very strange.

You’re grateful though, and you accomplish what you can right away such as the background check, quirk information and license, and sending in your history with therapy. Nezu told you that if you were quick, you could have your first day in just a week. It shocks you- a week? It’s so soon!

Maybe, you think, they’ve already been thinking about hiring a counselor for a while. It was long overdue, and now they’re in a rush to get you in and working. You suppose that with everything that’s been going on for the school, that’s fair.

You hope you can do this- the last thing you want is to let this opportunity slip through the cracks and let everyone down.

---

After a full week of filling out paperwork, various meetings, and a lot of movement speeches that you’ve given yourself to get through it, your first day at U.A comes, bright and early on a Monday morning. And, interestingly enough, your first big task of the day is getting dressed.

The students have uniforms, but the teachers all wear their hero costumes, and you’re not a hero. So what on earth do you wear? You glare at your closet for a long time before finally slipping on a simple button-up shirt tucked into some slacks. It’s the most professional-casual you can get, right?

Taking the train to U.A was a bit busy, but you were buzzing with first-day energy that you couldn’t even mind the pushing and shoving of people coming on and off the train. You’re sure that the longer you have to take the train, the more it will bother you, but today it seems like nothing can break through your hopeful exterior.

God, you hope this works. You hope the kids like you.

It feels funny to walk into U.A with no guards hounding you- but thanks to your I.D that you got just yesterday, you walk in without any problems. It makes you grin. Your first stop for the day is to find Eraserhead- you’re meeting with his class first and taking over homeroom for today. Tomorrow, you’ll meet with the other hero course.

When you walk into the teacher's lounge, nerves are tingling your senses. It feels like it really is the first day of school, but instead of a student, now you’re a teacher, sort of. The room looks empty, so you assume the teachers have all gone to their classes for the day. You wonder where Eraserhead is…?

It’s as you walk around the desks in a curious manner that a yellow bag on the floor catches your eye. Quite frankly, you do a double-take on it-- is someone sleeping in there?

“Hello?” You walk up to the bag. “Is that you, Eraserhead?”

You remember Nezu joking about something like this, but you didn’t take him seriously. As the sleeping bag rolls around, your eyes widen in surprise as you see that yes- this is Pro-Hero Eraserhead sleeping on the floor.

His tired, dry eyes look up at you. “You’re the therapist?” He asked, his voice deep and scratchy.

“...Yes. ____.” It’s all you can manage to say as you watch him slowly crawl out of his bag, picking it up and standing on his feet. All of a sudden, he’s looming over you with his height and it almost catches you off guard. “Thank you for working with me,” you shake yourself out of your thoughts and present your hand to him.

As he shakes it back, you notice that his hand basically engulfs yours. Woof.

“I’m glad you’ll be working with the students,” he says, and his honesty throws you for a loop as he begins to walk off, you following him from behind. “Do you mind telling me what you have in store for the day?”

“Right!” You try to walk a little faster so you can walk side-by-side with the man, his legs quite longer than yours. “I figured I'd like to introduce myself, let the kids get to know me. It’s hard to suddenly have a new face around, as well as being expected to talk about your problems with a stranger. So I just need to not be a stranger anymore.” You look up to Eraserhead and he silently nods. You figure that’s his way of telling you ‘good idea’?

“We’re here.” He stops in front of, again, another rather large door. They all seem to look like this. “Get ready.”

As the door opens, you’re immediately met with the sound of teenagers laughing and yelling. Eraserhead heads in first, thankfully, and you peek your head in to get a look of the students. You’ve seen a lot of them through the news, so some faces are familiar, while others aren’t.

“Class,” Eraserhead’s authoritative voice cuts through all the noise. The students are quick to sit in their seats, heads up and attentive for their teacher. He sighs, his shoulders sagging in a tired manner. “Today, ____ will be taking over the class,” you take that as your cue to enter the room, standing next to Eraserhead silently. “I’ll still be here, so don’t disrespect them. Listen to them, take what they have to say seriously.”

That seems to be the end of his little speech as he shuffles away in that same sleeping bag you found him in. You step up to the podium, and your nerves are back as you look at the sea of students. Oh boy.

“Hello, everyone,” you smile. “As Eraserhead mentioned, my name is ___. There’s no need for formalities with me, you can just call me by name. My job here at U.A is to be your school counselor.” You watch as several of their faces change and you laugh a little. “I know, it’s strange. I’m here today to ask you a few questions. My first question being, how many of you are comfortable talking with a stranger?”

None of their hands raise beside a rather sparkly boy with blonde hair.

“I appreciate your honesty!” You gesture for him to put his hand down and he does so. “Most of you aren’t going to come to me right away with struggles you may have, and I understand that. My job today is to have you all get to know me. We’ll be doing a few activities, and by the end of home-room, you’ll go back to your regular classes. Are there any questions?”

A hand shoots up right away, and you nod your head to the girl it’s attached to. She looks very attentive and scholarly- you have a feeling she might be a class president or something like that. “Why has the school decided to hire a counselor?”

“That’s a good question. What’s your name?” You ask.

“Yaoyorozu Momo.”

“Thank you for asking, Yaoyorozu. Truthfully, with all the events that’s been going on in your district, the school believes we should be more attentive to our students' mental wellbeing.” You feel like you’ve gone over this pitch thousands of times… “It’s important that you all have an outlet when you’re stressed or upset.”

Yaoyorozu seems satisfied with your answer as she nods, her hand going back in her lap. Another hand rises after that- not as confident as Yaoyorozu, but still there.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering- my, uh, name is Midoriya Izuku! I was wondering what we’d talk about in your office?” The boy has wonderful green hair that curls at the ends, freckles on his cheeks that make him look innocent and cute. He’s somewhat nervous, which intrigues you, but you move on to his question.

“Yes, in my office…”

The rest of the period goes like this. You eventually get a question out of almost every student, and they seem to be warming up to you already. You’ve learned most of their names- but you’ll probably need a few days until you remember them all. After the questions, you do a few games together that you thought up- things that typically would be done in middle school. You split up the classroom as you have them learn more about each other- things like ‘go to the left side if you’d rather lose your taste, go to the right if you’d lose your smell’. They were simple activities that the students seemed to mostly enjoy, and you participated in them as well.

At one moment, you asked a very specific question on purpose: how do you feel about your quirk? If you like it, you would go to the right side of the room. If you dislike it, you’d go to the left. If you weren’t sure how you felt, you’d sit in the middle. In the end, only you and boy with white and red hair stand in the middle as the rest of the class sits on the right.

“What is your quirk?” He asks you and you smile down at him. Everyone turns their attention toward you, clearly interested.

“My quirk is called Sensory. If I use it right, I can heighten my own or someone else’s senses such as their hearing or sight. But if I use it wrong, the person goes into sensory overload.” You explain it as simple as you can, and a pink hand raises in the air. You can’t quite remember her name…

“Why don’t you like your quirk?”

“Well, I don’t dislike it,” you quickly reassure the class, “but I have my reasons, as I’m sure Todoroki has his own as well?” You look down at him and he nods silently. “Anyway, I asked this question so that you all would get to know who I am a little better. Quirks are a great way to express yourself, but it’s important to remember that it isn’t the only way. It’s okay to not feel completely at home with your Quirk, but it’s important to understand it and accept it as a part of you.”

After the activity ends, the period is over and it’s time for you to go down to your office. Eraserhead offers to walk you there since you’re still new to the building and you gratefully take it. The two of you leave the classroom with a stern word from the teacher for his students to wait patiently for Present Mic to arrive ‘or else’. You have a feeling that there's no real threat behind his words, but it seems to work.

“So,” you fill the silence in the hallway, “do you think it went well, Eraserhead? You know them best.” You look up at him and the hero reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. He’s not quite looking at you, but you know he’s paying attention.

“You don’t have to call us by our hero names,” he huffs and his hands go back into his pockets.

“Oh! Well… To be honest, the forms Nezu gave me never mentioned any of the teacher’s names, so I don’t actually know…”

“Typical of him,” the man rolls his eyes, his lips tugging upward just a bit at the ends. “You can call me Aizawa,” all of a sudden you both come to a stop and you realize that you’re outside of your office on the first floor. “Mic is Yamada and Midnight is Kayama… I’m sure you know who Yagi is.” You nod. “You’ll learn the rest of their names along the way. The 1-B teacher is Kan, by the way.”

“Oh, good! Thank you, Aizawa,” you smile up at him. “And thank you for walking me back.”

“You’ll get used to it in a bit,” he sounds sure of himself, making you believe him. “And… you did fine with the kids. I can think of a few who might come over by the end of the week.”

His reassurance is honestly very touching, as you weren’t really sure of yourself.

“I hope I have at least a week, my office is kind of baren right now,” you laugh at yourself a little. “And thank you- it’s good to hear. I really hope this goes well, you know? I think I can really help them- I want to help them.”

Aizawa just stares down at you but you’re honestly getting used to his silence. You can already tell that he’s a man of few words, so you’re grateful that he’s talked to you as much as he has. You laugh again- you’re not sure why- before opening your door and waving goodbye to him. He leaves after that, and now it’s just you alone in your office.

You sigh as you look around the room. It’s got the essentials- two chairs, a couch, and a table in the middle. Then there’s a desk in the corner of the room, but other than that, it’s empty. You’ll definitely have to fill up the area to make it seem more welcoming- maybe you can bring some things over from your apartment.

All you know is that you’re determined. By the end of the week, you’re going to make this place feel like home.

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 3 years

Text

Chapter 53: Identity

Becoming The Mask

Barbara was at work when her phone buzzed. She didn't have time to check it – she was busy with a toddler who had swallowed a paperclip.

If it had gone into the kid's stomach, things might have been okay. There was some risk of the sharp point doing damage, or the wire catching and tangling in the intestines, but the rounded ends of the paperclip meant there was also a chance it would simply be passed through.

Unfortunately, instead of ingesting the paperclip, the child had aspirated it, so it needed to be removed from her right lung.

Immediately after Barbara got out of surgery, she had to work up the x-rays of a teenager who'd crashed his Vespa into a tree. Nothing was obviously broken and he didn't have a concussion, but there was a risk of hairline fractures.

And then, (because why not,) there were three successive cases of people who had stuck odd things up their butts and gotten those things stuck.

By the time she was able to sit down for two minutes and gulp some coffee, she had forgotten about her buzzing phone.

She didn't even look at her phone until she was leaving for the night. Barbara got it out to turn the ringer off, since she wasn't supposed to be on call that night, which never stopped anyone when they were short-staffed, which was often, and she was tired enough it would probably be dangerous for her to be treating patients again until she'd had some sleep.

(Also, she was probably tired enough that she shouldn't be driving, but Barbara never let herself think about that.)

After finding out she'd missed something as big as her kid sneaking around to fight a secret magical war, Barbara was trying to reassert some boundaries between her time at work and the rest of her life.

Her phone announced that she'd missed a notification.

It was just an exclamation point. What had that been supposed to mean?

Barbara turned her phone off and drove home.

"I'm back, kiddo!"

"We're in the kitchen!"

'We' meant Jim and Toby. Jim was pulling a shepherd's pie out of the oven. Toby and Barbara both inhaled appreciatively.

"You said it's lean ground beef, right?" asked Toby. Jim smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Tobes. You know if you cut all the fat out of your diet you'd get protein poisoning, right? Mom, back me up."

Barbara took a moment to remember this. She wasn't a nutritionist – she'd encountered this concept in a novel a few years ago and looked it up to see if it was true.

"He's right," she said. "It's the rarest kind of food poisoning. Not much risk of it happening here and now." Not in a city in the United States, haven of processed and instant foods.

Jim portioned out the steaming vegetables and meat and mashed potatoes. Barbara added some sour cream to hers.

"Is Nana out tonight?" she asked Toby.

"Yeah, she and some of her chess buddies are doing a tournament. Informal, I think, but maybe a prize? Like, a gift certificate or something."

"We should see if we can get her and Mr Strickler to play a match sometime," said Jim. "I think I heard once that he's a grandmaster, but I don't know how often he plays anymore."

That combination, Nancy and Walt, made Barbara's brain click and remember the significance of that exclamation point she'd sent herself.

"So … it's been a month. Have you made any progress on telling your friends' families about trolls?"

Both boys froze.

"We gave Vendel a bunch of family stories," said Toby. "Once he's done reading it, we'll find out if we have permission or we're going behind everybody's backs."

"Guess I should warn him the clock's ticking again," said Jim.

"We could maybe tell people now and say we're LARPing, and tell the whole truth later?" Toby suggested. "That's what my therapist thinks is going on."

"You told your therapist?" asked Barbara and Jim together, in very different tones.

Jim's eyes were huge. He had a white-knuckled grip on his silverware. "Tell me you didn't use the word 'Trollhunter' in front of her."

"… No?" said Toby in confusion. "I just said your character was a magic knight on a quest to fight an evil troll."

Jim sighed. "Okay, that's generic enough it's probably safe. Don't use any specific names or terms, though."

"Dude, you seriously think someone is spying on a random high schooler's therapy appointments?"

"Someone is spying on a random high school's entire history class," Jim pointed out.

The rest of the meal was tense. After they were done eating and cleaning up, Toby went back home, and Jim went upstairs to do homework.

Jim's yearbook from the previous year was on one of the shelves in the living room. Barbara brought it over to the couch.

She could use this to get an idea of who Jim and Toby's classmates were, at least.

Jim didn't have many signatures in the book. There was Toby's, of course. The rest all had generic messages – "Have a great summer" from Eli Pepperjack, "Have fun this summer!" from Shannon Longhannon, "See you in September" and a doodled smiley face from Claire Nuñez, and "Enjoy summer break" from Seamus Johnson.

People Jim knew? Or random classmates he approached so he wouldn't look 'weird' for not caring about yearbook autographs?

Barbara made note of all the names. She felt like Jim had let slip that the other children who knew about trolls were girls, early on, but she couldn't quite remember for sure and didn't want to rule anyone out. She flipped to the class photos to match names to faces, so she could keep watch for the signatories hanging around her house or across the street.

+=+

Enrique carefully printed the English alphabet. It hadn't been that hard to mimic from a reference image, but this was his first time writing it independently. He haltingly hummed the song to keep track of his place.

"Pretty good," said Claire, reading over his shoulder. He fought the urge to turn and strike. He was (supposed to be) safe. Claire wasn't purposefully lurking in his blind spot to attack him. "Definitely way better than my first scribbles. I guess next you should learn to write your name."

On another piece of paper, she printed it for him to copy.

The first letter was N. Sensible enough. Except wasn't that one pronounced 'nuh' instead of 'en' when it was in a word and not the alphabet? He shrugged. Claire knew this writing system better than he did – if she said Enrique started with N, he'd go with it until he had some evidence otherwise.

The second letter was O. He frowned. That … didn't feel right. Shouldn't it be an R?

The third letter was T. He stopped.

"Read it," he said to Claire, trying not to growl.

"Not Enrique," she said, without shame. "You only copied the 'Not' part so far."

Angrily, Enrique scribbled out the letters he'd written so far and the bit he'd copied from. In fast, shaky letters he copied out the rest of it and underlined it.

"No," said Claire, getting angry in turn, "you don't get to use that name. That's my brother's name, not yours."

"The kid can share. It's mine now."

"Oh, come on," Claire scoffed. "You're, like, hundreds of years old. I get that Jim's used to being called 'Jim' after sixteen years in deep cover or whatever, but you can't possibly have gotten that attached to 'Enrique' in just a few months."

… Did she really not know?

"It's the only name I've got."

"Bullshit. Other trolls had to call you something when you were in the Darklands."

Now he growled for real. "That wasn't a name."

"What, some kind of codename system? Then I'd think you'd welcome the chance to start using your real name again."

"I don't know what it used to be!" he snapped. "No one exactly kept track of who they were grabbing. And if we lived, it was 'Changeling' this and 'Impure' that if it wasn't just 'hey you'! Enrique's the first name I can remember having and you don't get to take it away from me!"

He stood there breathing hard for maybe a full minute. He'd cracked the pen. There was gloppy ink on his clenched fist. He licked it off before ink could drip on the floor, and popped the plastic into his mouth.

Claire's voice, when she spoke again, was a lot softer.

"How did anyone tell the Changelings apart, if … if you didn't have names?"

Enrique snorted. "You think they bothered? One Changeling's as good or as bad as any other. S'probably part of why Jim and the big Boss Man were so quick to change sides when they had the chance."

"Even the other Changelings?"

"The rule about not getting attached starts early."

Claire looked like she was about to cry. That … that wasn't fair, she didn't get to make him feel bad for her when they were in the middle of a fight …

"We give each other nicknames, sometimes," he admitted. Imp had been a popular one, if nothing else about a Changeling stood out. "Us or the goblins. But then when we get up top, it's like a rite of passage, you know? We get a name then. Using the old nickname's … like an insult. Saying you weren't worth making a surface agent."

Claire blinked rapidly a few times, then hugged him. He almost clawed her before realizing it wasn't an attack.

"Oi, easy!"

"You can't have my brother's name," she said stubbornly. "But we'll figure something else out."

"Not exactly your call to make," Enrique retorted.

"Don't ruin the moment."

"What moment–?!"

+=+

Previous Chapter (Troll Dads become official!)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Angor Rot’s debut!)

Not featured in the above chapter: Jim's internal panic, as he frantically tries to figure out how much Toby has already told Dr Archenn and how to warn Toby off telling her anything else, without exposing yet another Changeling's identity to humans.

Featured in the above chapter: my headcanon that Otto addressing Not Enrique as 'Imp' in early Season 2 was a deliberate insult. I've actually got a different nickname in mind for Not Enrique, it just didn't feel natural to bring it up in this scene. Imp, short for Impure, is basically a 'starter nickname' that all Changelings have in the Darklands, until and unless something about them stands out enough that the other Changelings start calling them something else.

#Becoming The Mask chapters #Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Changeling Jim #My Fanfiction #Monday is fanfic day!#Dr Barbara Lake #Tobias Domzalski #Claire Nuñez #Not Enrique #Changelings #backstory #names

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Prologue

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, just over one year after the epilogue)

Word Count: ~5500

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: As Riley prepares for a new chapter in her life, she’s forced to reflect on a time when things felt much less certain.

Author’s Note: Well, the sequel’s here... and I feel like it’s gonna not be what any of you all are expecting, but hopefully you will enjoy the journey still. We are so far from canon at this point, given the diverging plots, so no point comparing this timeline to that timeline. This prologue is set 13 months after the epilogue of It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment, but it does feature a flashback (in italics) to an event that happened about 4 months after that epilogue. The subsequent chapters will pick up about 8 months down the road from this prologue, or 21 months after the ICWAM epilogue.

Riley rifled through her purse, trying to find her keys, eventually finding them shoved beneath her phone, three tubes of lip gloss, and her flashcards that had scattered everywhere when the rubber band broke. Flashcards that were now sticky with lip gloss, she realized as her hand came out with tacky coral streaks across her knuckles. Oh well. Nothing was going to kill her good mood today.

She had just finished her last final exam of the spring semester. And provided she passed, which she was pretty confident she had, she would be a college graduate. It was crazy to think about. After her mother’s death, she assumed her degree would just sit unfinished, those last two semesters of credits seemingly unattainable. But now, she had probably just completed her last requirement for her BA in Communication Studies and Resources. Combine that with the fact that she had a likely job offer pending from the director of a PR firm who had led her Race and Media seminar and that she was getting married in four weeks, and she was riding high.

Hana had told her she was crazy when Riley had told her the wedding was going to be a month after her courses ended, but honestly, it hadn’t been too bad. Sure, Riley probably should have checked the academic calendar before she and Drake set the date, but they only had 23 people coming down to Texas, and that included Maxwell who was officiating. And an outdoor, casual wedding on a ranch involved a lot fewer details than the ritzy London soiree Hana and Catherine were currently putting together. At this point, all that was really left was trying on her dress one last time so Hana could see if she needed to make any last alterations, and that was happening next week when Hana was coming to New York for both business and the bachelorette party.

Climbing the steps, Riley knew she had to be basically grinning. She could smell something delicious coming from their apartment. She’d suspected Drake was going to make something special for dinner tonight, and the aroma that was wafting down the hallway confirmed that she was in for a treat. He could hear his voice muffled through the door as she turned the key, meaning he was probably on the phone. Knowing that he liked to keep the phone on speaker when he was cooking, she kept quiet as she opened the door and entered their apartment, not wanting to interrupt his conversation.

“Savannah, you gotta slow down,” Drake said towards his phone which was sitting on the counter as he held a knife over a cutting board.

Savannah’s sobs could be heard through the speaker phone, slightly distorted and off. “I just feel like… such… an idiot. And Drake, I don’t know what to do.”

Drake glanced up as Anderson trotted over to greet Riley, but she raised her hand and shook her head. If his sister was having some sort of crisis, that came before celebrating the end of finals.

“It’s bad enough that I’m the… unwed Baby Mama at court, but to get knocked up... again? Drake, I can’t let them know. They barely accept me being with Bertie as it is.”

Riley’s eyebrows shot up as she quietly hung her purse up on the hooks Drake had installed by the door and sat down at the table. Maybe she should feel bad about essentially eavesdropping, but Drake was going to tell her everything Savannah said anyway. Particularly something as massive as this.

“Who cares what they think?” Drake asked as he set the knife down and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

“I care!”

Drake let out a little sigh and shook his head. “What does Bertrand think about all of this?”

“He was a little shell shocked at first, but then he marched into his office and pulled a ring box out of a desk drawer. Apparently, he’d been planning on proposing for a while.”

Riley glanced down at the heirloom ring on her left ring finger. Savannah’s story was eerily familiar, and suddenly found herself thinking back on an afternoon last August.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley laid on the floor of the kitchen, trying to slow her mind down. It was a technique she’d been trying at her therapist’s suggestion for the past few months any time she found herself about to dive into a massive decision without giving it any thought. Apparently, her life experiences during her childhood and adolescence had created a habit of her rushing through major choices so that she wouldn’t have to think about possible negative outcomes. An avoidant coping mechanism was what he called it. Riley thought it was a little absurd that he needed a term for everything, and she didn’t think it took a genius to figure out that her absent father, her addict mother, and the endless string of foster homes messed her up in some ways, but he was relaxed and easy to talk to, which she supposed was what really mattered.

“Just find a way to ground yourself in the moment. Connect yourself to the physical environment, and let your thoughts settle. Give it a try, okay?” he’d requested, so she’d done it a few times since then, like when she was signing up for courses for the semester or when she and Drake had decided on this apartment. Laying down and closing her eyes usually worked pretty well. It helped clear her mind as her body adjusted to the position and the feel of the floor. But today, she couldn’t slow things down. Probably because her mind was racing thinking about the feel of her body, trying to determine if she felt any different. She knew that was stupid, but she just couldn’t help it.

Her phone buzzed on the floor next to her, but she didn’t want to pick it up. Because if she picked it up, she would have to look at her calendar again, the thing that was the source of her current panic and that she had killed the screen to avoid.

It was really the phone’s fault, her current predicament. She and Drake had upgraded their phones about 6 weeks earlier, and it seemed like her calendar notification settings hadn’t imported over. Apparently, she hadn’t really used the calendar at all over that time. Until today, that is, when she had downloaded the syllabi for her course load and gone to add key dates for the semester. That was when she had realized she had missed her window for her depo injection by just over three weeks.

This was bad. She was too old to be this careless about birth control. She had just paid her tuition for this semester’s classes. She’d cut back to part time at the bar. Drake’s job paid okay, but this was absolutely not a good time for them. But she also felt weird even thinking about ending a pregnancy when she and Drake had recently had the “kid talk” and said they want children in the future. He wasn’t some random one-night stand. She wasn’t seventeen anymore. Their relationship was in a good spot. Things felt stable. Why did she have to go and fuck all that up?

She didn’t know what to do, what to think, how to feel. Kids with Drake was a someday thing. A down the road a bit thing. Not a now thing. They hadn’t even been together a year, and she might be pregnant. All because she forgot to go in for her depo. They’d been essentially trying for three weeks without even knowing. And because she hadn’t had a period for the past few months on the depo, she didn’t even know how to judge if she was late or anything.

Trying to calm herself down, she sat up, leaning forward and hugging her knees. Even in her panic, she was able to recognize that part of her dread came from the fear of the unknown. That much, at least, she could take care of. So she grabbed her purse and marched down the stairs, outside and over to the little drug store a block over. She grabbed the first pregnancy test she saw, paid for it, and went back home, ready to do what needed to be done. But she couldn’t. She just stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself, trying to will herself to just pee on the goddamn stick. But she felt locked and frozen, unable to take that final step.

She didn’t know how long she stood in the bathroom, but eventually, she heard the front door unlock and Anderson’s tags jangling as his little feet pattered across the floor. Drake was home. And she should probably tell him what was going on.

“Hey, Liu!” he called out, “What do you want for dinner? I was thinking maybe…” but he trailed off when he saw the look on her face as she walked down the hallway and joined him in the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“Drake, I…” she paused, taking a deep breath before she continued, “I forgot to schedule an appointment with my OBGYN.”

“Okay…”

“For my depo injection.”

“Oh.” Drake nodded slowly, like doing so would help him process the information.

“And I was supposed to get one over three weeks ago.”

Drake kept nodding slowly. “Okay… so you’re saying that?”

“That I very well could be pregnant, Drake. And it’s freaking me out.”

Drake just kept nodding, like he was a fucking bobblehead doll or something. It was annoying the shit out of her.

“Don’t you have any thoughts on this?” she ground out, frustrated at… well basically everything. Drake. Herself. That they were even having to deal with this at all.

“I think… you should take a pregnancy test before we do anything else. Do you want me to go pick one up?” His voice was calm and steady, but it felt like he hadn’t really processed, almost as if he had no reaction to the fact that she could be pregnant with his kid.

Riley wanted to scream and shake his shoulders. It was like she’d told a robot she could be pregnant. “I already went and bought one.”

“Okay, well then I think you should take it.”

“How are you so fucking calm about this?”

Drake just stood there for a second before giving her a little shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, it could be worse, right?”

“How could it be worse? We live in a one bedroom apartment in a mad expensive city where we just paid a bunch of money for my tuition and you work as a temp and I’m a fucking bartender and-”

“Shhhh, Riley. Come here,” Drake said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her. “First of all, we don’t even know if you’re pregnant. Second of all, I guess I don’t see it as that big-”

“Oh, that’s easy for you to say! It’s not you that might be pregnant!”

“Yeah, but this would be our kid. I guess I just feel like we could handle it, you know?”

“A kid is a huge fucking deal, Drake! Pregnancy is a huge fucking deal before the kid even gets here! And I get that for the guy it doesn’t seem like it. And you can act like it’s no big deal and we’ll just figure it out, but that’s because you aren’t facing the reality that you might have a baby growing inside you that you were not planning on. So, don’t you dare try and minimize this, Drake Walker.”

Part of her knew she wasn’t being fair to Drake. She’d been processing this possibility all afternoon. She’d just unloaded on him and expected him to react the same way she did. But a big part of her was just frustrated that he didn’t seem as worried or scared as her. Regardless of her storm of emotions though, her little rant somehow focused her. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and headed back toward the bathroom. She might as well get this over with.

“Riley, wait! Can’t we talk about this?” Drake called out. She spun to face him, throwing her hands in the air.

“I have to go pee on a fucking stick. And according to you, there’s nothing to discuss until I do that.”

Marching into the bathroom and slamming the door, she let out a deep breath as she scanned the instructions on the little purple box she’d left on the counter. It made it sound so fucking simple, like this wasn’t mad terrifying. She popped open the box, and pulled out a thin piece of white plastic. How could something so tiny be so fucking intimidating?

Somehow, she kept her hand steady as she did what she needed to do, setting the little stick on the side of the sink before she washed her hands. She let out one last sigh before opening the door and leaving the bathroom, setting the timer on her phone for five minutes as she walked back towards their kitchen and living room. She found Drake sitting at the table, hands lightly tapping in his lap as he glanced around the room. When he noticed her approaching, he seemed to hold his breath for just a moment. Eventually, he broke the silence as she sat down in her usual chair.

“So, did you…?”

“Pee correctly? Yes, Drake. I managed to do that.”

He didn’t acknowledge her sarcasm, instead he just nodded twice before he asked, “How long do we have to wait?”

“Five minutes,” Riley responded, waving her phone in the air before setting it down on the table.

“Look, I’m sorry, Riley. I didn’t mean to make you think this isn’t a big deal to me. Because it is. All I was trying to say is that I think we can get through whatever happens here together.”

Riley nodded, but didn’t say anything. Deep down, she knew that was what he’d been trying to convey. But at the same time, she was freaking out. An unplanned pregnancy was just different for her, the person whose body would have to go through all the changes, than for him. “I know, Drake. And I know I just kind of dumped all my stress onto you and didn’t really give you any time to think or react.”

They were both silent for a few moments before Drake leaned over towards her. “No matter what it shows, you know I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?” he asked, reaching for her hand across the table. “We’ll be alright. We’ll figure it out. I can get a second job on nights and weekends if we need more money. And we probably won’t need a bigger place for a year or two. We can just shove this table against the wall by the kitchen, and then we can fit in a crib and a changing table, so we’d be set there for a while, and I know next semester might not be doable for you, depending when you’re due, but we’ll just have to see, right?”

“Drake…” Riley said, but he was just rambling off plans now, seemingly oblivious to her interruption.

“I know it’s a little earlier than expected, but this was always the plan, right? I mean, we talked a while back, and you said you saw us getting married and having kids. So what if it’s a little quicker than we thought? It’ll be fine. And I know there’s a lot to think about, but I figure we can still have a nice, little wedding. Unless you want some big, fancy wedding. If you do, that’s fine, we are just gonna have to start-”

“Woah, what the fuck are you talking about?” Riley finally said, squeezing his wrist tightly to interrupt his ramble.

“I’m just trying to figure some stuff out for us, you know?”

“Like our wedding?”

A faint blush crept onto Drake’s cheeks, but it didn’t stop him. “Well… yeah? I mean, obviously I want you to-”

“Drake, are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious. We can get married and-”

“No!” she called out, cutting him off before he could start rambling again.

“What?”

“Well, for one, you haven’t asked me yet!”

Drake winced at that but nodded and let out a little sigh, “You’re right. Sorry… just, lots of thoughts… but I should’ve… Shit, what I mean is… Riley, will you marry me?”

Riley was sure her eyes had never been wider than they were as she stared across the table. After a few seconds, she finally felt able to speak. “You did not just propose to me because I might be pregnant.”

“It’s not just because you might be pregnant,” Drake muttered, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

“Bullshit, Drake! Are you telling me that you planned on asking me to marry you when you got off work today?”

“No, of course not, but-”

“Then this,” she said, gesturing her hand back and forth between the two of them, “is all because you feel fucking obligated to propose. And I may not be big on over the top romance, Drake, but the thought of a man asking me to marry him out of a sense of duty is so not okay. I am not some fucking burden to be dealt with.”

“Hey! I never said that-”

“Drake, simply proposing because you feel like you are supposed to is mad insulting. Proposals should come when someone is sure they’re ready to commit to the rest of their lives with that one person. Not because they feel bad they might have knocked someone up.”

Drake swallowed roughly, and nodded at that. He didn’t say anything for a few tense moments, but then he stood up abruptly, shoving his chair back and stalking down the little hallway.

“Drake?” Riley called out, but all she got in response was a muffled “Just gimme a minute” from the bedroom. She glanced down at her phone, checking the timer.

“We only have a minute,” she muttered, shifting around in her chair. But a few moments later, Drake was striding back out towards her, one hand dragging through his hair, the other clutching something tightly in his fist.

“I didn’t ask you to marry me because I felt like I had to,” he growled out, dropping down on one knee next to her chair, “And I didn’t ask you because you might be pregnant. I asked you because I love you and I can’t picture my life without your teasing or swearing or jokes. Because I love that everything is a competition with you, and that you are a crazy sore loser and even worse winner. Because I love the way your eyes always show what you’re really thinking, whether you’re angry or protective or caring, not that they need to, because you have no problem telling me exactly what you think. And because for some strange reason, you seem to get me, and that makes me so fucking lucky.

“It’s not that I thought, ‘Oh, if she’s pregnant, I guess we better get married,’ but that I thought, ‘Why aren’t we married?’ Because whether it happens tomorrow or ten years from now, I know I want you to be the mother of my children. So yeah, maybe the timing is shit, and I know I’ve done this all wrong, but you were wrong too. Because I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve been committed to that for a long time. And right now, I realized there is no good reason to wait. I don’t want to wait. So that’s why I asked you.”

He let out a couple of heavy breaths, just staring at her expectantly. Riley reached forward and grabbed his hand with both of hers, giving it a little squeeze as she found her voice. “Drake…”

“Shit,” he said as he tugged his hand out of her grasp, uncurling his fist and revealing a green, satin box, “I was probably supposed to show this to you earlier, too.” And with that he flipped the box open, revealing a beautiful, vintage, diamond ring.

“Holy shit,” Riley whispered, trying to keep up with everything that was unfolding, “You have a ring.”

“Yeah, I have a ring. Riley, I have known you were it for me for so long. So, let me-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” And with that, Riley leaned forward, sliding her hands around his neck and kissing him deeply. He responded passionately, tangling his fingers into her hair, but after a few seconds, a beeping noise interrupted them. Her phone alarm was chirping.

She turned slightly to silence her phone before facing Drake again, watching as he took her left hand off her lap and tugged it forward. She glanced up and found him staring at her, eyebrows raised, so she smiled and nodded. He grinned back at her before he slid the ring onto her finger. She felt like they had so many things to talk about, so many questions that needed to be asked and answered, but right now, there was one very pressing question with an answer waiting for them in the bathroom.

“Come on, Liu,” Drake said as he stood, tugging her to her feet with him, “It’ll be okay, no matter what. I promise.” So they walked hand in hand into the bathroom and looked at the piece of white plastic she’d left on the side of the sink. The piece of plastic that would shape their future.

“Two lines… does that mean…”

Riley shook her head, staring at the box. “No, that one is just the control. It’s only one line.”

“So, you’re not…”

“I’m not pregnant,” she said, feeling a rush of relief wash over her as she tugged Drake into a hug, “Thank God!”

It was like sheets of stress and panic were falling off her by the second, and she even let out a little chuckle of relief as she clung to Drake’s shoulders. Drake didn’t say anything, just loosely looping his arms around her waist to return the hug. When she pulled back after a moment, she saw just a hint of regret and sadness in his eyes.

“Drake, what is it?”

He just shook his head, “I don’t know. It’s just… a lot, I guess.”

She nodded, sliding her right hand forward to cup his cheek as she waved her left in front of his face. “Not second guessing this, I hope?”

He smiled warmly at her at that, clasping her hand against his cheek and tugging her hips flush against his, “No fucking way, Liu.”

“Good,” was all she said, before his lips were on hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley had always wished she could find something in common with Savannah. She knew Drake wished that they were great friends, but the truth was they just were very different women. It’s not that Riley disliked Savannah, not really at least, but they almost never had anything to talk about. But now it seemed like they both had proposals triggered by pregnancy scares. It was a weird ass thing to share.

Except, they really weren’t all that similar. Savannah was not only actually pregnant, but she lived a life where the optics of it were far from ideal. If Riley had been pregnant back then, it would have been a lot to handle, but at the end of the day, Drake had been right. It would not have been a big deal. No one in New York would care if she and Drake, a committed couple who lived together, had a baby out of wedlock.

But for Savannah, it was different. Dukes weren’t supposed to live in sin. They certainly weren’t supposed to knock up the same woman twice, once as a one-night stand, once as a girlfriend. And as stupid as Riley found it, she knew that Savannah’s ramblings did express a very warranted fear. She and Bertrand could easily find themselves on the outside of their social group for this. Or rather, Savannah could. Bertrand might face some snide comments, but at the end of the day he was a man and he was one of them. Savannah had neither of those advantages. And while Riley and Drake had left that whole world behind for a lot of reasons, the fact remained that Savannah didn’t want to have to give that life up.

Lost in her thoughts, both her memories of her own proposal and her sympathy for Savannah, she was only half-listening to Drake and Savannah’s conversation, but when she heard her name and Drake’s tone turn suddenly angry, she snapped her head over, attempting to figure out what she’d missed.

“...Riley and I are getting married then! That’s our fucking wedding day, Sav. What the actual fuck are-”

“I know, Drake! If there was any other time that-”

“I’m not asking Riley that, Savannah. It’s not happening. You’re the one who wants a last minute wedding, you pick out a different day!”

“The Social Season already has events set for the next two months. The only exception is June 8th.”

“Yeah, because Liam blocked that weekend so he could come to our wedding! You’re just going to have to wait a couple of months.”

“I just want it to be believable that this is a honeymoon baby. People are already going to suspect, Drake. But if we just have a civil ceremony with none of court in attendance, people will know for sure.”

“Again, who the fuck cares?” Drake was clearly agitated now, pacing the kitchen and gesturing wildly.

“Bertrand’s a duke. We have to keep up appearances, at least a little. You don’t have to like it to know it’s true.”

Drake dragged a hand through his hair and let out a massive sigh, “What am I supposed to do here, Savannah? You realized this is an insane ask, right? I’m getting married in four weeks.”

“I know. If I could think of any other solution, I would. Just, talk to Riley about this, please? All I’m asking is that you two talk about it, okay?”

“Fine, Sav. But this is so out of line.”

“I know, I know.”

Drake ended the call without even saying goodbye to his sister. He slapped his hand over his eyes and let out a little growl.

“Soooooo,” started Riley, “Savannah and Bertrand are having another baby?”

He dropped his hand down and looked at her, just shaking his head. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. But you don’t need to worry about it. I’ll figure out how to tell Savannah she can’t just have our wedding weekend. How was your exam?”

“Fine, but Drake, we need to talk about your sister.”

“No, this is your day. You don’t need to worry about her drama. We’re celebrating you being a college graduate, and that’s all we need to do tonight.”

Riley shook her head, “Celebrating can wait a half hour while we figure this out.”

Drake gave her a frown and came to join her at the table. “What’s to figure out?”

“Drake, she’s pregnant, hormonal, and scared that she’s about to become a social pariah.”

“Yeah, but that’s not… I wouldn’t ask you to do what she’s asking. I wouldn’t expect you to postpone the wedding for that.”

She tilted her head forward, reaching out and grabbing his hand before she continued, “If this was just your event, if I wasn’t involved, you would agree wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s not just my event.”

Riley stared at Drake for a few moments, running things through in her head. “How are you going to enjoy our wedding, knowing that it’s going to strain things between you and Savannah?”

“That’s the thing - it shouldn’t strain things between us. She’s being unreasonable here. We wouldn’t be doing anything wrong to get married as planned.”

“Oh, I completely agree. Savannah never should have called to ask you this. But the fact is that she did. And I don’t think you’re going to be able to just act like she didn’t.”

Drake sagged forward, propping one elbow on the table and catching his head with that hand as he squeezed her hand with his other. “I know I should just tell her ‘Hell no,” so that’s what I’m going to do. It’ll suck for a while, but she’ll get over it.”

Riley looked at Drake, trying so hard to steel himself, bracing to disappoint his baby sister. And a large part of her wanted him to do just that. Draw a clear line in the sand when it came to this. He already let her get away with so much. But a bigger part of her just felt for the woman that was going to be her family soon, who just felt scared and alone and was pregnant when she didn’t expect to be. And the biggest part of her just didn’t want Drake to be in this position, where he felt like he had to choose between her and his sister, even if his sister was mad out of line here.

“Drake, I think we should postpone our wedding.”

His head jerked up at that, fear and anxiety clear across his wrinkled brow and deep frown. Riley stood up and climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around him and stroking the back of the neck and she worked to undo the worry and fears she knew her statement unleashed.

“And you know this has nothing to do with you or us or the way I feel about you. But you are a protector when it comes to those you love. And right now, you are trying to protect me from seeing how much you wish you could help your sister. And I appreciate that, but I know you, and if we get married on June 8th, I know that you are going to stew and feel guilty the entire time, even if you know you shouldn’t. And that’s not how our wedding should be.”

“Riley, I....” he sighed into her neck as his hands clutched at her waist. He didn’t say anything else, and Riley knew he was trying to find a way to contradict her. But he wasn’t going to be able to do that.

“It’s okay, Drake. I will be thrilled on our wedding day whether it’s in four weeks, four months, or four years. But your sister chose to be a part of a world that will judge her heavily if she gets married in four months or four years. We can help her by giving her the chance to get married in four weeks, and I don’t mind doing that, alright?”

Drake tipped his head back, sliding his hand up to comb through her hair. “I don’t know what to say, Riley.”

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Call your sister. Tell her she better start planning a wedding.”

“We’re going to lose a bunch of deposits.”

“I know. We’ll save up again. The benefit of a small, simple wedding is that it isn’t obscenely expensive.”

“I would never ask you to do this, Liu.”

“I know, because you take care of everyone whenever you can. But that mean you also want to take care of your sister, and I love that about you. So, let me take care of you here. This is my call. We are postponing.”

Drake crushed her against his chest as he hugged her tightly. Riley knew he was trying to convey a lot of things with his embrace that he couldn’t quite put into words. It just cemented her decision in her mind as the right call. As much as it would suck to postpone, starting out their marriage by making Drake do something that would hurt his sister was not the way to go about things. It didn’t matter that Savannah’s ask was way out of line. She and Drake could just afford to be flexible in ways that Savannah and Bertrand couldn’t.

“I love you,” Drake muttered into the skin of her shoulder before he loosened his grip on her, leaning back and looking up into her eyes, a clear mix of love, adoration, and regret present in his.

“I know. I love you, too. And I’ll love you whenever our time to get married comes.”

He kissed her gently. “It’ll be our time soon. I promise, Liu.”

Riley smiled, climbing off his lap and tugging him up after her, leading him by the hand into the kitchen, eager to get on with celebrating the end of her exams and to sample some of whatever Drake was in the midst of making. She wasn’t worried. They had a lifetime together. The when of their wedding didn’t matter as much as that fact.

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @thequeenchoices @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trr #the royal romance #trr au fanfic

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goodtimingz · 4 years

Text

dreaming you would come true

intro. pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5.

AN: i’m writing these everynight instead of writing my essay. plz feel free to send in your relationship goal prompts c: i’ll write them in this universe or i can do it for another idol!

tags: studentlife, jae day6, fluff, college!au

: the one where you meet jae in your second year of college and it’s basically love at first sight. just little excerpts of what i think a relationship w jae would be like c:

1.7k words

Hi, hello. Every time I say hi to you it makes my heart flutter.

It was Saturday night and finals were over.

On any other day you'd be celebrating, out with the group for drinks like everyone else was. But tonight you just weren't feeling it. Maybe it was the chicken you'd ate at dinner, the fact that you hadn't slept enough or the fact that finals being over meant you had no more reason to meet Jae.

You missed his laugh already, and the way his elbows hit yours when you wrote notes beside eachother. The bee line for the boba shop that shut at 11pm on Fridays, and waking him up after watching him fall asleep from a 20minute online lecture. You missed him and you felt under the weather.

Wonpil had been hesitant to leave you, your close friend and classmate. You both lived in the same dormitory building and had met on the first day of class. "Y/N are you sure you don't wanna join us?" he had asked pouting, hand already on the door handle. You had to reassure him that you were fine and come up with some lie about needing to call your mom. This was a time to celebrate and everyone deserved a break, including Wonpil who had worked his ass off and probably got all A's.

Your mind wondered to Jae, picturing him out at a bar with his mates. He probably forgot about you right? Maybe he'd been hanging out with you for the past 2 weeks because you helped him study better... (not sure about that since you'd always bother him with deep questions related to your psych class just to hear his voice abit more.)

Stuck in your thoughts, the knock on your door almost sent your soul out of your body. Ever since you were woken up by the staff during a false fire alarm the knocks had always made your heart race. You hauled the heavy ass door open with a sigh, expecting your drunk best friend or another random drunkard knocking on everyone's doors.

Instead you came face to face with Jae. Well, more like chest to face since he was ridiculously tall.

"Ayee Y/N, you didn't think I'd skip a day without you right?" His playful voice and the sweet words were like music to your ears .

Without a second thought you smiled at him and every worry went away, replaced with burning red cheeks. "What brings you here?" You questioned bashfully, opening the door wider for him to get out of the hallway.

"I was thinking you'd be boring and stay in tonight, so I asked your friend Wonpil what room you were in. You know he's in my Music class right?" You roll your eyes and nod at him as he places a plastic bag on your desk.

You couldn't lie, you were beyond surprised and happy he'd come. But it was more surprising to watch as Jae pulled out three bottles of soju and searched your shelf for cups.

"How about we cheers? You've been working your ass off and I need to drink to forget how bad the last exam went. Leshgoo!"

Your eyes widen before you realised you were laughing. "Jae do you honestly think we can finish 3 bottles? I heard from your friend Younghyun that you're a light weight as heck!" Coincidentally (or not), the day after you met Jae, Younghyun had sat beside you in one of your stats classes.

Since then you had been sent a handful of snapchat's of Jae sleeping in awkward positions, so you assumed Younghyun had heard about you through Jae.

Jae looked at you sideways, fiddling with the lid of Soju. "Ehh Younghyun's a machine that's why. Anyone is a lightweight beside him." He was already pouring you both a drink and before you knew it 3 bottles were gone. You were a light weight too, so that was definitely not a good decision.

Jae looked so cute. You're not sure how you got here, sitting on the floor of your bedroom cross legged, facing the cutest guy, but boy were you glad to be.

"Y/N, you always look so pretty, I wonder if I can see you when you don't look panda-ish." Jae mumbled, his eyes smiling sleepily. He was a sleepy drunk, or maybe that's just the 8hrs he slept for the past week. He sure loved the panda idea, and had even drew a panda on your notebook during one of your study sessions.

You laughed at his sweet expression, pushing him softly on his shoulder. "Try again in a month, but I might blind you with my beauty. You should know I'm just like the 9-tailed fox when I’m not sleep deprived."

Yeah, you were drunk, in fact you both were. You tried your best to send him a sexy wink but you ended up laughing at yourself because no matter how drunk you were, you were still shy.

"Does that mean you'll eat my heart? I did not sign up for this!"Jae's cute eyes turned to slits with a suspicious scowl. (You took a mental picture of it, saving later for a rainy day.)

"Only if you let me..." You sent him a suggestive look and laughed as he covered his chest. Anyone looking in would probably think you two were insane. You weren't sure what time it was, and if it hadn't been you're own room you probably wouldn't remember where you were either. There were boxes of chinese food you’d ordered and random things everywhere around the two of you.

"I don't think the 9-tailed fox asked her victims for permission Y/n..." He had a point. "Okay then, mind if I just-" you reached out to his chest, pretending to cut a slit with your nails and reach in to grab his heart while he giggled the whole time.

"WOW, with that precise cut you should've been a surgeon!" Jae teased, his cheeks were so flushed and you took both of his hands in your own.

"You should know that is what I always dreamed to do, but here we are, 2 years into a psychology major. Thank me later when you have identity issues next, I'll be your certified therapist friend." You found the most dramatically serious voice you could while thoroughly drunk, and sent another wink Jae's way before lazily reaching for his hair.

He dodged your hands feigning offence. "OUCH, you friend-zoned me? Well, I guess you won't be able to dye my hair pink anymore, that's saved for my girlfriends."

"GirlfriendS??? As in plural? Wow Jae I should be the one surprised, I didn't know you were a player... But I guess it makes sense since you're so cute."

Friend-zoned? Who was talking about friend-zoning here? You weren't. Jae loosely put his hands up in defence, "Your homeboy is loyal to the day he dies!"

You move his hands out of the way shuffling so your knees were touching. You already knew he was loyal, he had a niche personality that could vibe with others but you never seen him disrespect a women.

"And why would I friend zone you? You're so cute, Have you seen this?" Cheek pinch. "And this?" Nose boop. "And these!" Your fingers brushed his lips, unknowingly a pout had formed on your face. "It's not fair that you always look cute. Save some for the rest of us Jae."

Jae felt his heart beating faster as you moved closer to him. The way you touched him with that smile and then the pout, it was enough to sober him up. He reached out to hold your face with both of his hands, watching as your hands dropped to your sides and your expression grew bashful.

"I think you're one to talk Y/N" He spoke so softly, noticing just how close you were. You looked so adorable, he could swear your lips called his name.

Who was he to deny it?

He leaned forward, gently kissing your lips. They were soft and tasted like peach soju. He could only think of you, if after this you never talked to him, slapped him or acted like it never happened he would accept it. But he liked you, and he couldn't stand denying it anymore.

To his surprise you kissed back softly, tentatively as if you were afraid.

When you pulled away his eyes searched yours, afraid he would find regret. "Will you remember this in the morning?" He asked you nervously.

"Jae, I'm pretty sober right now, and I like you." Your words were so sure and the shy smile you sent his way sent a wave of relief over him. Thank gosh.

"10 points! that's exactly what I wanted to hear because I like you too Y/N." Okay, his pulse had definitely increased to double speed and his hands were sweaty. Even though he knew your feelings now, it still felt so nerve-wrecking to confess. He tried hard to keep eye contact because some dating advice website said it was important, but it was hard.

You let out a breathy laugh before it turned into a genuine one. Was that so hard? Hell yes it was, your heart was beating out of your damn chest. Anyone with ears could surely hear it, which meant Jae could surely too.

"So... we good?" You managed to find words but it felt like trying to speak another language. Suddenly the room looked a mess and you got to your feet, starting to clean. "Of course we're good Y/N, we always are." Jae spoke comfortingly, a bashful smile resting on his lips as he followed your acts. Perfect. You nodded with a grin, taking the bottles from his hands to throw away.

When you turned back to face him, he looked so shy smiling at the ground. He was so Jae, so cute, so your type. You could not resist resting your hands on his neck and pulling him down for another kiss, this time you were sure to let him know you liked him.

When your lips touched everything except Jae left your thoughts. The way his lips moved against yours felt so right. When you two separated his hands rested on your waist and you never wanted them to leave. Up close Jae was so beautiful you couldn't help but smile.

"So... can I dye your hair now?"

Jae laughed at your asking eyes, nodding as he pulled into a tight hug. With your cheek resting on his chest and his chin on your head, a buzz of excitement rushed through you. The future suddenly looked less black and white, and more blue? Yes, rather than pink you think Jae would suit blue.

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aliypop · 4 years

Text

Simpatia

Word Count: 2,225

Character Count: 11,925

Warning: themes of trauma mentioned, Mentions of Rape, and all things Hannibal like

A/N: I really really hope you guys enjoy this fic it’s a part two to Empatia and more of Shanel Mahone please let me know if you guys enjoy it!

"Sometimes I think the curse is gone...Days or even months, pass in peace but then, without warning it stirs... like malaria." Shanel said, her grip on the black leather seat hard almost causing scratches on it, It had been only a week since she and Hannibal had, had dinner together, and neither party wanted to bring anything up about it which made her think that maybe it was for the better,

Hannibal watched her fidget in her seat, pulling at her clothes, specifically at her white buttoned-down shirt, almost as if it were choking her, "One month I can forget that it all,"

"That it all what.." Hannibal asked curiously as to what she would have said next, setting his notepad aside on his desk he could smell the fear on her, not from him but from something else though he'd push to even say that it was from somebody else, "Happened," she responded her tapping her heels and slouching in the seat making herself almost seem swallowed whole by the space around her which was already dark and bleak, she couldn't run and hide from the bad guy in her nightmares nor could she push the memories of what he told her didn't happen away either,

"Our scars have the power to remind us our past was real.." Hannibal gave her a soft smile and a comforting handhold,

"DON'T! do that..." she removed her hand away from his as quick as she could, to her it felt as if time was frozen and that everything she did had only slowly begun to catch up to her, standing to her feet like a rushing whirlwind only made doctor Lector's analyzation on her stronger, of course, he had known for her to lash out on themes that he might have mentioned in their sessions, but nothing to the point that it made her end their discussion so early,

"I really should head back to work.." she mumbled, walking out the door, "Same time next week?" she asked as he only nodded back in response. Her office, however, was only a door down from his, a bleak walk that felt like death row with the gloomy winter skies painting the background of her office she only felt more alone and swallowed whole by her own guilt and shame of her past, something that felt like an anchor on her life still she refused to tell her own therapist about these things, for example, her reoccurring nightmares, flashbacks, or how she secretly fell that she would never be enough and therefore became a lawyer in a country where no one knew who she was,

"Ms. Mahone, are you okay?"

"Just another bad day, any calls Carlos," she asked, her breathing still shaky as if she had finished running a mile. Carlos was an intern of the Mahone law firm which dealt with sexually, heinous crimes and was more so a cover-up business for what she really did, but that was only a secret shared between her and Hannibal,

"Not that I know of, but Will dropped off the files for the Hobbs case," he shrugged handing her the files her curled up hair pressed to her forehead, taking the yellowish envelope she rushed into her office, slamming the door behind her making it her sanctuary, one that tended to either blare 80's music and or classical operatic melodies, grew silent the only thing that she could hear was the robotic ringing of her office phone, in which she refused to answer until it rang for the tenth time,

"Hello," she answered listening to the crisp silence of the call,

" la mia piccola puttana,"

"I.. I don't understand..." she began trembling and shaking under her desk as she repeated to herself that what she had just heard was unreal, "The.. letters and.. the gifts.. you,"

"I wanted you to forgive me, to trust me... ya know ever since I treated you bad I wanted to make it up to you," a condescending tone in his voice, this, however, was the same man who had taken the wrongful liberties of turning her into what she was today a closed-in private life woman who didn't know what love was nor did she understand the purpose of trusting someone let alone think about it, this was the man who hurt her so badly she killed him, or so she thought,

"I don't want anything from you," her voice gave out wavering, like a candle in the wind alone by itself.

"I thought that maybe we could talk, go on a ride as we used to when you were 12, just me and my little puttana," he could feel the way she had nearly shrunk into herself every time he had even uttered the letters to the name that he used to call her, it still reminded him of the power that kept her down enough for him to use her again like old times, Shanel put the phone back on the hook hoping that it would be the end to his scheme, but like most, she was dead wrong, the side of her suit had vibrated, indicating that she had just received a text which read,

"I see you,"

Peaking her head out from under her desk she could only see what looked like ebony black hair and an olive skin man standing in the parking lot next to her pink sports car, trying to steady herself using her office chair, keeping her head held low, walking down the hallways made her feel as if she were heading towards death row with a bag over her face and two prosecutors carrying her down towards the sweet electric chair which she could hear it buzzing like a song in her ear,

" Lack of trust in other people increases the need for religion. If you can't rely on others, you'll have to rely on god,"

She heard the voice of Hannibal say, looking around herself it was almost as if she had transported herself to a museum of some sort where every picture was everything that she was able to remember some that were good and some that weren't,

"Where am I... where are we?" she asked turning to the blonde hair psychiatrist who was dressed in something completely different than what she had remembered from earlier, she too was also dressed differently, wearing red as he wore white,

"Your mind palace, and as I see, you've built quite the wall around it... tell me Shanel will you let yours fall eventually.." he asked her watching the way her features fell soft when she was around him, letting him see the sides of her that she wanted him to, nothing less and nothing more to it, besides what was a monster if you loved it she had always figured, walking alongside him sitting down to admire the "art" around them,

"About earlier I-"

"Good you're up.." a hand caress her cheek as she was bent over what felt to be a couch underneath her, a knife was pressed against her leg as it slowly began to peel away her brown skin revealing what was under her skin the beautiful red of O positive blood rushed down her leg staining her tan heels, as he began digging the knife deeper into her skin as if she were a pig and he was checking for fat,

"Scream, and I'll kill ya," he grabbed her cheeks pushing her head further down onto the couch, she could hear him unzip his pants, and his satisfied breathing in her ear, silent tears fell from her face her body frozen just like it used to be when Christopher attacked her, though most times his buddies in the mob would join along with him,

"Now be a good princess and let father Christoph-" she took her heel gouging out his eyeballs blooding up her suit,

"I can't see! " he shouted as Shanel then searched into the couch cushion finding a pistol in which she loaded and cocked the gun feeling his hand on her thigh crawling up further under her skirt as her finger found the trigger pointing the barrel at his head, then at his arm blowing a hole right between his shoulder watching him scream in agony,

"That was how you made me feel, for 13 years !" she shot at him, "13 miserable years, and now it's time to make you pay for it all.." her voice was now a hushed whisper as she watched him beg an plead to her as if she were God, but unlike him, she was unforgiving, the murderess that killed those who hurt the one's who killed those who hurt in the inside, the judge of wicked the wrong and the unrighteous,

"May he have mercy on your soul.." she mumbled under her breath, taking the final blow to his head, the FBI had then begun to bust into the room watching before them the renowned and loved lawyer covered in blood staggering back and forth as she in a blurry panic saw what looked to be Hannibal falling into his arms, Will only sighed seeing the shoe that was lodged deep into his eye cavity and the other that seemed to show the deep scalping of his head, the crime was far worse than anything he had seen so far in his profiling classes,

"I'll take her to paramedics.." Jack tapped Will on the back as he shook his head,

Shanel laid there in the hospital hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor as well as a few other machines to check her breathing and her vital signs, as Hannibal sat there waiting for her spring to life he contemplated on looking at the wonderful spread of parts near him, but also the beauty of getting to know her true soul, thinking back go the night they shared dinner together made him think about how he wanted to keep her around as his and only his for as long of the time he could get the FBI off his scent, roses surrounded her, but still her beauty had out shown them all, Watching her fingers move around his own chased him out of the scattering waves of thoughts causing him to break away from the rushing noises around him,

"You're up I see," he smiled up at the wounded lawyer, who this time didn't remove her hand from his own, turning her head slowly to look towards him she could sense a new aurora around him a gentle one that almost shocked her in a way,

" I assume you saw everything.." she asked him

" I did," he squeezed her hand reassuring her, watching her turn away from him,

"I assume you think me a monster then.." she suggested a chuckle leaving her mouth her bringing a new piece of music to be written to his ears,

" Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?" he asked her, taking her hand up to his lips kissing her knuckles in an adoring fashion,

"I was nearly raped today, and you think by kissing my knuckles, I'll just fall under your charm .. and yet you won't even talk about our dinner.." she pulled her hand away from his "If I never see you again then clearly I would be -"

"Lonely .. hurt again, drowning deeper in regret then what you already suffer in, feeling that no one will ever love you," he suggested watching her squirm uncomfortably from how correct he was,

"I've already made arrangements for you to live with me, think of it a partnership.." he smiled,

"My apartment is fine.." she growled at him, turning away hiding her blush from him, she knew that she belonged next to him like Persephone alongside Hades. He was her match in every plausible way, but she couldn't let her guard down,

"Not from the notes left there, let alone the state that you're in, and as I am currently your doctor, I know what's best for you.." he suggested, hearing her become silent,

"You only know what I allow you to know.." she snarled at him, " which isn't much... besides, I hunt alone," she glared into his maroon eyes deep down into the very last inch of soul left in him,

"If you want to catch an Egale you better learn to fly doctor lec-" she felt a quick peck on the lips her eyes wide as the very breath in her lungs was taken away from her eyes flickering, and lips puckering up for more,

"Say you'll stay.." he asked her, as the taste of him lingered on her lips, he had a taste of honey and oak with the sheer sleek taste of iron on his tongue O negative to be exact, the blood of Christopher himself peppered over rice,

"We'll have an old friend of yours for dinner.." he suggested watching her nod in utter bliss, "You'll hunt, and I'll gather," he asked her

" The wicked the wrong and unrighteous .." she looked at him,

"And the Rude.." He asked

"What?"

"When feasible one should always eat the rude.," he smiled petting her curls taking in her scent,

#nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannibal x oc #will graham #fanfiction #hannibal fanfiction #fannibals #new #story #shanel mahone #mentions of trauma

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smileyoongle · 5 years

Text

Masterpiece (A Park Jimin Yandere AU)

Summary: You thought it was just a painting until you bought it. You thought the man in the frame was beautiful until you saw him. You thought it was a masterpiece until you were ruined.

Pairing: Yandere! Jimin×Reader, Taehyung×Reader

Warnings: Contains mentions of smut, deaths, blood, obsessive behaviour and mental health issues. Please read at your own risk.

You stared at the painting on the wall, the mix of colours making you zone out. Taehyung sat beside you on the white couch, rubbing circles on the palm of your hand as you both patiently waited for your therapist. His office was pretty nice with all it's pastel colours and light toned furniture. You remembered when you once wanted to be a psychologist. It was a teen fantasy of yours after you had seen 'The Silence Of The Lambs'. Overtime you grew out of it, figuring that you had too many problems to deal with rather than helping others fix theirs and soon, you found solace in tubes of paint and the smell of new canvases.

The door opened with a subtle click, your head turning around to see your doctor, Kim Namjoon, entering the cabin.

Taehyung let go of your hand and stood up, shaking hands with Namjoon while you continued to sit nonchalantly. You didn't really wanna be here, anyway. Thankfully, Namjoon knew you too well. He was an acquaintance of yours in high school but he didn't know you enough to not be your therapist. He was the best one in town and happened to be Taehyung's good friend.

His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, his brown hair was pushed back, revealing his forehead unlike all the other days that he let his hair cover it up. You tilted your head and rested your cheek against your palm, your elbow sitting on the arm of the couch. Namjoon settled down in his chair and opened his diary, writing down what you assumed was today's date and your name.

He finally looked up at you and smiled, his dimples digging into his cheek.

"Well, look who decided to show up after standing me up last week." Namjoon joked, making you crack a smile. Taehyung chuckled deeply, turning his head to look at you.

You shrugged and leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees instead. "Safe to say, someone actually wanted to see me." You responded, earning Taehyung's disapproving scoff. It was his way of saying that he always wanted to see you but you decided to ignore it. What could you even say?

Namjoon shook his head, a breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he placed his pen on the book.

"Tell me, how have you been, Y/N? Hopefully, you have been taking your medicines on time." He stated, looking at you with bright eyes. This was definitely a therapist thing. They couldn't really be sad in front of a depressed person right?

"Of course-"

"Liar. Now I know why Nan wanted me to come."

You tsked when Taehyung interrupted, your eyes rolling in annoyance. Namjoon tilted his head at Taehyung, nodding at him as a sign to continue. Taehyung glanced at me before looking back at his friend.

"I saw the entire bottle sitting untouched in her house." Taehyung confessed, making you sigh and close your eyes. You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling both their eyes on you.

"I told you last time. I can't take those pills, they make me sleepy and I'd rather stay awake." You snapped, clenching your fists and looking at Namjoon with a firm gaze that said you wouldn't change your decision.

Namjoon pursed his lips, already expecting this. Even after having talked about this a million times, you weren't willing to give the medicine a chance.

"Why would you rather stay awake, Y/N?" He asked, rubbing his chin with his fingers. Your eyes wandered towards Taehyung, your breathing staggering when he gave you a comforting nod. You gulped, looking at the small painting that you had been admiring since you stepped foot in the office.

"Nightmares. Bad ones that make it seem so real, I-I don't wanna sleep. I think I've started to have those sleep episodes again." You answered as honestly as you could. This was hard for you. Very hard. Just as you thought you were getting better, everything seemed to be relapsing.

Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed. Not in confusion. Not in surprise. But with concern. He always wondered why you painted at night and slept in the morning. Now he knew that you worked so hard just to tire yourself out so that exhaustion could take over. Because you wouldn't sleep willingly at all.

It was such a shame he didn't figure this out. He just wanted to help you. He really wished you'd let him help you.

"Do you remember any of those dreams?" Asked Namjoon, writing down something in his notebook. Your hand found Taehyung's, begging for him to hold it firmly and tell you it's okay. You had specifically requested for someone to be with you during therapy, afraid that you'd spiral out of control if Taehyung or nan weren't with you.

You tried to recall any nightmares that you had recently, your mind only gathering bits and pieces. You shook your head. "It's all a blur. I just remember being in that dark house and seeing bloody ropes everywhere." You replied, sighing when Taehyung squeezed your hand. You could feel your heartbeat quickening, the fear finding home in you again. And as much as you wanted to just get over it, you knew this session was far from over.

Namjoon hummed, gliding his pen across the paper before closing the book and looking at you with hesitant eyes. You could feel your hands become clammy, your thoughts catching onto his. He was gonna say something you didn't wanna hear.

"I suggest we try PE once again."

You immediately shook your head, sitting up straighter and mumbling 'no' again and again. You yanked your hand away from Taehyung, running your fingers through your hair. Namjoon placed the notebook beside him and leaned towards you with his arms stretched forward with caution.

"Y/N, just listen to me. We need to know where you stand in this situation and Prolonged Exposure is the best way to do it." He prompted, earning another firm NO from you. Taehyung decided to step in, his head turning towards Namjoon as he gave him a knowing look. Namjoon nodded in response and stood up, leaving the room without any noise. Even though this should be embarrassing for him, he didn't think much of it. Kim Taehyung was a rock for you besides Nan. At times when Namjoon had failed to convince you, Taehyung had done it. And Namjoon was sure Taehyung would do it now too.

You felt Taehyung's hands on your cheeks as he turned your face towards him. Your eyes were already teary at the thought of reliving that painful memory. Sort of reliving.

You placed your hands on Taehyung's, not paying attention to his words at all.

"Tae, listen to me, I can't do this. I don't- I don't wanna do this, tell him..-"

"Baby, hush. Look at me…"

You stopped talking, your lips quivering as you listened to his attempt at comforting you.

"Breathe. Just breathe."

You swallowed thickly, focusing your attention on your breathing. You closed your eyes and took in deep breaths, feeling the way your heart calmed down.

"Y/N. Tell me. Don't you wanna stop worrying about all this?"

You pursed your lips, not being able to answer him. You didn't need to, anyway. Because who would say no to that question? Certainly not you.

"Don't you wanna just...live?" You looked away from his brown eyes, his hands still firmly cupping your cheeks. After a second of silence, you nodded. Taehyung smiled and brushed your hair away from your forehead.

"Do this. Not for me. Not for Nan but for yourself. Because you wanna live." He said, pulling his hands away and standing up. As much as you wanted to argue, you couldn't. He was right. Taehyung was always right.

"I'll let Namjoon know." Taehyung announced, taking a step forward towards outside the room when your hand held his wrist. You were still hesitant and unprepared. Could you even come out alive?

It's just a recording, you told yourself.

Taehyung sighed and crouched down to your eye level, bringing your hand up to his lips. He softly kissed your fingers before smiling at you.

"I swear on my life, Y/N. You'll be fine." He assured you, your hand finally letting go of his wrist. You watched him leave, the back of his blue shirt disappearing behind the black door.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, nodding to yourself as an indication that you were ready.

____________________________________________

Namjoon looked at you, his fingers hovering over the play button on the small black recording device. You knew all about the process of prolonged exposure therapy.

You were gonna be made to listen to a recording from the time when you had narrated the whole incident to Namjoon for the first time. The last time you did this, you were screaming after you heard yourself utter four sentences. It was painful, really. And you never wanted to go through it again but you understood that this was important for you.

You glanced at the door once, your heart sinking on the realisation that Taehyung wasn't gonna be here to get you through this. This was a one to one session and Taehyung wasn't allowed inside with you.

You sighed and gave Namjoon a small nod, clenching your fists and leaning back on the plush couch. You heard a faint click before a buzz echoed through the silence of the room.

"It's 11:02 AM and I am at my third session with Y/N Y/L/N."

You huffed, closing your eyes immediately to prevent any further panic. Your heart was slowly picking up its pace. It wasn't full on pounding yet so that was a good sign.

"Y/N, tell me everything from the start. What happened on the evening of 31st December 2014?"

You squirmed in your seat, letting out shaky breaths as memories from that day came back to you.

"Well...I was walking back home from a party that I really wanted to attend. Taehyung had offered to drop me off but I didn't want him to leave the party because of me so I turned him down."

You kept mumbling to yourself that you were okay. Despite the goosebumps rising on your skin, you told yourself that you were okay. Just a little longer and you'd be out soon.

"It was quiet on the streets and my phone was dead. I couldn't call my dad because of it and I had to reach home soon. It was time for my curfew so I decided to take a shortcut."

A soft whimper left your mouth, your fingers fisting around the fabric of your t-shirt. Namjoon's eyes were fixed on you, taking in your body language throughout and drawing conclusions about your mental health. Your eyes were becoming warm, the tears making themselves visible.

"It was a dark alleyway and we were always told to avoid it, considering the number of girls who had been abducted from there. But I didn't have a choice. Dad would have killed me if I came home even a minute late."

You heard the crack in your voice, reminding you how much you had struggled to get the story out. The images of that night began to reopen in your mind, sending your heart into a spiral.

"I walked as fast as I could until I was almost at the end. I saw my house in the distance and that's when I began running. But it wasn't because I was late. It was because I could hear another set of footsteps behind me."

You gasped, shooting your eyes open when you recalled the next moment. Your lungs burned and tears streamed down your cheek.

"Y/N. No one is here to hurt you now. Just a little longer. You're doing great." Namjoon assured, his voice somewhat offering you peace.

"I was about to scream when a hand clamped down on my mouth. After that, I don't remember anything until I woke up in a dark room-"

"No...Stop it! Not...just stop it right now!" You yelled, your voice shaking as you clawed at your ears. Namjoon immediately pushed the stop button, the door swinging open to reveal a panicked Taehyung. You buried your face in your hands, your ragged breathing filling the room. Taehyung rushed to you, his hands rubbing your back as he sat down beside you.

You forced yourself to look up, your hands shakily reaching out to Taehyung's as you let him hug you. His scent had you calming down, your heart slowly falling back to it's rhythm.

"You did amazing, Y/N. Last time, you didn't even do half of where you reached today." Namjoon praised, showing you his dimpled smile. Your head rested on Taehyung's chest and you smiled weakly at Namjoon.

You wiped away your tears and sniffled, watching as your doctor sat in his chair and began writing something on a notepad.

"I'm changing your meds. There are three pills this time. You need to take them once daily. Don't forget them at all. And yes, these are to be taken with water, not alcohol." Namjoon stated firmly, giving you a small glare as you hide your face in Taehyung's chest. As if you were gonna listen to him.

The ride home was quiet, seeing as you spent your entire time recalling your therapy session. You somehow got through it for the day. But what were you gonna do next week?

You turned your eyes to Taehyung who was focused on driving the car. His jaw clenched occasionally, his tongue wetting his lips from time to time. It was a shame that a man like him was here next to you.

Taehyung was everything good whereas you were everything bad. You were broken beyond repair, hopeless, heartless and selfish. There were so many ways to describe you but you didn't have the motivation to put yourself down.

The car came to a halt and you weakly pushed open the door to get out. You sighed, squinting in the sunlight on seeing your house. The big brick mansion stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of the green expanse of the countryside. Your house wasn't that far from the city but it was a good 45 minutes drive.

You followed Taehyung inside your house, your feet automatically taking you to your bedroom as Taehyung engaged in a conversation with Nan. You were pretty sure it was gonna be about your little incident today. You rolled your eyes, trudging towards your closet. You dug through your clothes, trying to choose the comfiest outfit you owned before settling for an old but big t-shirt with baggy shorts. You turned around after tossing the clothes on your shoulder, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man in your painting.

He looked so at peace, it made you envious. Maybe you should have been a painting too. You wouldn't have to worry about life's problems at all.

"You're lucky, you know. All you have to do is sit there while I have to go through fits of existential crisis every day." You complained, throwing him a pointed look before heading to the bathroom.

The hot water was a relief for your aching muscles. You could feel all your worries being washed away as the water cascaded down your body. You spent twenty minutes cleaning yourself up. You loved taking showers but today was just not your day. You just wanted to lay around all day with nothing to think about.

What a treat that would be!

Wrapping the fluffy towel around your body, you stepped out of the stall and stood in front of the mirror after opening the door to your bathroom. The steam had fogged up the mirror, your hand wiping it away to slowly unravel your reflection. But it wasn't just you anymore.

Your eyes widened when they met his, a gasp following soon after.

Park Jimin stood behind you with a smirk on his plump lips and a devious look in his eyes.

Taglist: @csol16 @thanksforthemameries @min-t-posts @xanny91 @silverstitchedsoul @truestrengths @jackgot7lo @jazzytfw @cassiescarlet12

@kpopgirlbtssvt @slut-for-fandoms @kawaiimusiccollection @butwhatsoft @baby-glitch @wickedbutlovely @siphite @vincent-stargogh @sarcasticsmolstiles @khantij @btsarmysvtcarat @pr1nc355y05h1 @sugasheart @yoongass @smolwriterdude @iamcrazyforkdramas @roseofmyst

3 AM and tumblr is being a bitch..... I'm so tired. Anyway, sorry if I forgot to tag someone! Lemme know if you wanna be tagged and tell me if you liked this chapter! Ily 💖

-XX

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ddaeng-181338 · 5 years

Text

My Strange Addiction

• Smut

• Taehyung x Reader

• Word Count: 3.9k

• A/n: yes the title is inspired by Billie Eilish’s song “My Strange addition” the song is a bit suggestive and it got me thinking (*´ω`*)

You swished the wine around in your cup. The dimly lit room around you buzzing with chatter as live music was being played on the small stage. The smell of alcohol and food filled the air, mixed with different perfumes and aftershave as different patrons made their way around.

Your eyes scanned the crowded place for your next victim - or well your next one night stand. Ever since you had moved to the city you had gone a bit wild. Indulging yourself every Friday night by taking a new person to bed with you. It was your strange addiction, the thrill of someone new, seeing them in their most vulnerable state. The wild sex was good most of the time, minus the few that had sucked at it in every way. When The happened, you would treat yourself to someone else the next night.

You figured if your parents ever saw you doing this they just might faint — so it’s your dirty little secret instead. Really this new-found freedom was due to your previous Ex. Someone who really wasn’t as wild in bed as you wanted, and someone who After a few years began to bore you. So you picked up your life and moved it elsewhere, indulging on what the city could offer you. It wasn’t exactly the smartest or safest , but you had your wits about you when you did this, and ways to defend yourself if need be.

Your eyes landed on your prize, a man stood at the far end of the bar, bright blue hair drawing your attention immediately. You’d seen him many times before, his handsome features making your toes curl as filthy thoughts ran rampant in your mind. He was a regular - just like you. And you knew he was playing the same game as you. You’d witness him with a plethora of different girls in the weeks you’d been coming here.

Truly he was the reason you kept coming back to this bar. He was your goal, but you never had the courage to go up to him. He was doing exactly what you were, so he would most likely be unfazed by your attempts. Knowing them all before you could even attempted them. You eyed him up slowly , his outfit was just as put together as the rest of him. A bright blue shirt that matched his hair — a pair of black leather slacks hugging his legs and ass. He was easy on your eyes and you wanted nothing more than to undress him.

You sipped on your wine, eyes glued to him as he began chatting up a girl with bleach blonde hair and a dress about two centimeters away from revealing her ass to the room. Typical. You placed your glass down slowly, eyes trailing away from the blue haired man and over the rest of the room. Your eyes seemed to find their way right back to the blue haired man.

You know what, it’s now or never y/n. He’s yours tonight, make it happen.

You psych yourself up before slipping off the stool, grabbing your wine glass as you made your way through the tightly packed bar. It was bold of you to try to get him while talking to another girl, but the challenge excited you. You got closer and noticed a rather bored look in his eyes, the blonde talking excitedly. “Excuse me.” Your voice carried over the chatter and music around you. Both the blue and blonde looked over at you. A look of disdain coming over the blonde.

“Can we help you?” Her voice was nasally and the alcohol on her breath could be smelled from where you stood nearly a foot away. “Yeah, I wanted to know your name.” You looked directly at the blue haired man as you spoke. You could see amusement spark in his eyes, looking you up and done before he spoke. “Taehyung.” The blonde looked appalled that he had even answered.

“I’m going to be straight with you Taehyung, would you Maybe wanna come back to my place for a few… drinks?” You watched him think for a moment, eyes trailing over you before at his shoes and then back up to meet your eyes. “That sounds nice.” An annoyed gasp left the blonde as Taehyung followed you out of the bar. Cool air met your skin and you sighed, turning to make sure the blue haired man was still with you.

“Thank you.” you could see the relief pouring off him as he marched your pace beside you. “No problem, I could tell you were bored out of your mind.” A deep chuckle left him as you waited to cross the street. “You have no idea, She was a friend of my ex from a few months ago, and she was trying to tell me how I would have been so much better with her.” You cringed at that “Ouch”

“I know, it was torture. She just kept going on and on…” you nodded, heels clicking on the pavement as you both crossed the road. “Well I’m glad I worked up my courage to finally talk to you then Taehyung.” You turned to look at him, a smile tugging at your lips as you shot him a wink. You caught a glimpse of a smile on his face as well before you turned away “I’m glad you did as well…”

“Y/n, my name is y/n”

“I’m glad you did as well y/n.” Hearing your name roll off his lips made you clench around nothing and you almost laughed at yourself. But you had been — embarrassing as it may seem — waiting to hear your name coming from his lips. “My apartment is only a block away now, when we get there I have some beer and wine we can have. But There is a liquor store right across the street if you want anything specific”

“Beer sounds good actually.” You both knew it didn’t really matter what you drank. The two of you had played the same game for the last few weeks. Indulging yourself on sex with strangers, just to feel the intense pleasure and thrill of fucking someone you’d probably never see again. You were alike in that sense, so you both had no doubts on how this night would end.

The rest of the walk was in silence, finally you stopped at your building. “And here we are, a city skyscraper with a gorgeous review of the sunrise in the morning.” You knew you weren’t being sly with that statement, the look on taehyung’s eyes told you so and you smirked. “Sounds amazing, I’d love to see it.” You laughed as you took the steps up to the entrance. “Bold of you to assume we’ll still be up at sunrise.”

You walked up to the door and opened it, turning around to look at Taehyung who was still standing at the base. “Aren’t you coming?” His eyes seemed to clear as you spoke again. “Yeah, sorry just got lost in my imagination for a second.” The smirk that followed made your heart do a backflip, “come on then.”

The elevator ride up was quiet, the soft music filling the silicone before the doors opened to the 24th floor. “After you ma’am” you laughed at taehyung’s dramtic gesture before stepping out. “Why thank you sir, right this way.” You lead him down the hall and turned the corner,. Your apartment was the 3rd door on the left. “Here we are.” You unlocked your door and allowed him in before you. You kept your apartment rather spotless , you enjoyed the feeling and look of having your life put together. “Wow, this place is nice.” You smiled as he kicked off his shoes and scooted them onto the mat

“Thank you, I was lucky to snag the opening here a few months ago.” You placed your shoes next to his before heading for the kitchen. “I’d imagine it was a water trying to get the winning offer..” he leaned down and grabbed two beers out of your fridge. “It was, of course there is the set rent but they were looking for the perfect applicant. Somehow they chose me.” He took the beer from you happily, twisting the top off and taking a few big gulps. “So mister, I’m curious. What was the whole deal with this ex? That is if you want to share.”

You amended your question quickly, not wanted to cross a line considering this was the first time you Two had been alone. The first time you two had even talked really. “Oh her, no i don’t mind. I would like a woman’s view point on it really.” He nodded motioning over the couch as you took a sip of your beer as well. “Alright mister Taehyung, let me be your therapist for the time being.” He chuckled, laying across your couch and resting his head on your lap.

“Well doc it all started when i was born.” You both burst into a fit of giggles — you were both tipsy what do you expect. “Okay but for real this time. My ex- her name is Jiwon. She caught my attention the second she walked into the bar.” You nodded taking a long sip of your beer before placing it on the small table next to you. “She had short blonde hair, almost white. And I thought she was the prettiest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.” Again you nodded, he seemed to think for a moment before continuing.

“”I took her to bed once, twice, three times. And then i asked her out, and for a few months I wasn’t sleeping with someone new each week. I was only sleeping with her. And I didn’t mind it at all. But she started to show her true colors after about two months. She was obsessive and compulsive. I couldn’t trade it and broke up with her.” You cringed at that, girls like that got on your nerves, you had your fair share of friends that sounded just like her. “I can tell you from experience Tae, those girls never change.”

“You’re right. I did the right thing in breaking up with her right?” Your eyes met, and without thinking you began running your fingers through his hair — which was softer then you had expected it to be. “You did the right thing Tae, I’m glad you did it. And if things get too much to deal with, get a restraining order again her.” He nodded, sitting up and settling next to you on the couch. You reached for your beer again, gulping down half of it and smiling over at him. “Did talking about it help?”

He nodded, downing the rest of his beer before speaking. “It did, all my friends are guys and they sometimes don’t listen the way I’d like for them too.” You looked him in the eyes now, not breaking contact as you spoke. “Well it looks like you’ll have to keep me around them.” You mobbed closer to him, eyes locked with his. You fought off a smirk as his eyes zeroed in on your lips “looks like I’ll have too.” And with that your lips met.

You wrapped your arms around his next, shifting yourself so you sat on his lap instead. Your thighs caged his and you let out a shaky gasp as his hands rested on your ass. The kiss was warm and wet, beer and wine mixing on your tongue. You let him dominate the kiss, enjoying the way he moved. You pulled away after a moment, a small string of saliva connecting your lips. “Gross.” You both laughed and wiped your mouths. Clearly it wasn’t gross enough to stop you because seconds later your lips were connecting in another heated kiss.

Taehyung’s hands gripped your thighs, massaging the flesh and easily hiking up your dress. You smiled giant his lips, swiveling your hips against his and enjoying the satisfied groan that left his lips. “Excited so quickly tae?” You felt his length twitch underneath you, you always felt immense satisfaction in making a man hard. What could you say, it was a wonderful compliment in your eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since you first walked in that bar baby.” You gasped softly, fingers trailing down the side of his cheek and toying with his shirt. “Looks like we really are alike.” You kissed him again, nipping and sucking on his bottom lip before sliding down between his legs. Your knees rested on the plush of your carpet, a smile gracing your lips as you training your fingers over taehyung’s thighs. “Take these off Tae, I want to see you.” You realized just how aroused you were when your thighs parted a bit. Your cheeks heating as the cool air met your wet panties.

Taehyung struggled for only a moment before getting the leather pants down over his ass and thighs. Slowly tanned skin was revealed to you, a pair of black boxers covering what you wanted most. You helped him pull them off the rest of the way, throwing them off to the side as you began placing kissing on his thighs. “Oh…” a soft moan left his lips as you began kissing the Cotton of his underwear. Working your way up to the bulge in his boxers

You locked eyes with him before placing open mouth kisses over his twitching bulge. “Fuck y/n…” you laughed softly, sucking on the Cotton covering him. “Feels better than you’d think doesn’t it?” He nodded, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you nipped at his thigh. “Take them off baby, let me feel you properly.” He nodded quickly, leaning his hips up to pull off his boxers.

You threw them to the side, eyes locking on his exposed length. He was big to say the least, sizeable in length and girth. It was definitely something to be proud of. “Wow” was all you Could manage, mouth-watering at the idea of him. “You Like It?” A deep chuckle followed his question, “of course I do baby, you’re so pretty.” You settled yourself between his thighs , closer to your prize. “Can I?” You looked up at him, asking permission even though you knew the answer.

“Of course.” You smiled, eyes zoning back in on his leaking tip. You let saliva pool in your mouth, opening up to engulf his tip. He enjoyed the soft groan that left him, tongue swirling around his tip. You relaxed your jaw after a few moments, pushing your head down slowly to take in more of his length. “Shit y/n…just like that fuck”

You sucked softly, tongue swirling around his length before you began bobbing your head. Your hand covered what you couldn’t take, pumping his length with ease. “You’re too good at this…” you would have thanked him if you weren’t so occupied. You had no intentions of letting him come, wanting to work him up and leave him hanging.

You pulled off completely after a minute, leaving him gasping. “You didn’t think I’d let you come now did you Tae?” You could tell by the flush on his cheeks that he had been close. “N..no I didn’t… but fuck…” you smiled, wiping your mouth and standing up. “As much as I enjoy the couch, let’s take this to my room Yeah?”

Taehyung nodded, setting up off the couch to follow you. Had you not been so desperate to get to your room you would have chuckled at the sight of him. You pushed open your room door, allowing him in before you before shutting the door. “Get That Damn dress off.” Taehyung was over to you in seconds, tugging your dress down and off your body. “Fuck no bra?” You smirked, hands coming up to massage the soft flesh. “ it would have shown with how tight the material was. Plus it’s exhilarating to walk around like that.”

“Well that’s hot.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. His hands trailed over your skin, your shoulders, breasts, hips. “Shirt off Tae, please.” You pulled away, walking over and sprawling on your bed. “Come On Baby, take it off and join me.” His eyes trailed over your body and you felt your cheeks heat. There was something different about him compared to your usual adventures. And you loved it.

Taehyung hiked his shirt up and over his head, leaving him completely exposed from head to toe. “Alright pretty lady, panties off.” He crawled onto the bed, hovering over you with a smile. “Ahh Yes of course.” You slid them down and kicked them off the rest of the way. “Pretty…” his eyes trailed down to your exposed core and he smirked. “I wanna taste you.” His hands came up to massage your right breast, lips coming down to kiss you harshly. Sucking on your bottom lip with desperation.

“Taste me then Tae.” He groaned into your mouth. Pulling away quickly to trail kisses from your jaw down to your breasts, stomach and then settling on his stomach, eye level with your dripping heat. “Beautiful…” his breath fanned across your folds and you sighed. “I didn’t tease you Tae…” he raised an eyebrow and looked up at you. “You didn’t even let me come.” You let out a groan, eyeing him carefully. “Tae please…” his accusing stare did a full 180, a sweet smile taking over “well since you asked nicely.”

You couldn’t even blink before his face Buried itself between your thighs. Tongue poking out to slide between your folds. “Ah shit…” your eyes focused on his blue hair, the waves of pleasure shooting through your body making you feel like you were dreaming. His lips suction around your clit and your thighs tremble for a moment , skilled tongue working its way over your sensitive bud. “Please… keep doing that…”

He hummed against your folds, the vibrations making your back arch slightly. “Shit…” you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. The all too familiar feeling of your orgasm building coming at you full force. You knew he wouldn’t let you come, but still a part of you hoped he would. Your eyes fluttered shut, breath coming in gasps as you hand in his blue hair. “Oh fuck…”

You could feel his smirk as he moved away from you, kissing your thighs before sitting up on his knees. “Condoms?” He was breathless, your arousal coating his chin. “That drawer” you pointed over to the bedside table on your left. Taehyung practically dove for the table, opening the drawer quickly and pulling out a small foiled square. “You have my size.” A chuckle left his lips as he teared open the small wrapper, throwing the foil to the side and slipping the condom over his length.

“Hurry up you tease.” You reached over and flicked his thigh, a chuckle leaving his lips as he watched you. “Hands and knees baby.” You did as you were told, getting up off your back and turning over. Behind you the bed dipped as Taehyung positioned himself behind you. “Pretty…” the word left his lips on a soft whisper, one you probably weren’t even supposed to hear. “You think you can handle it baby?” You almost snorted. “I’m sure I’ll be just fine Tae, can you handle me is the real question”

“I like the cockiness baby.” You didn’t get a chance to respond. Instead you gasped asTaehyung thrusted into you slightly. His tip pushing past your entrance and making you both gasp. “Shit—“ Taehyung’s grip tightened on your thighs, pushing in inch by inch. “Ahh…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, the burning stretch mixing with pleasure. “Fuck I haven’t felt this burn in so long…” you couldn’t see the smug smirk on Tae’s face, but the way his grip tightened got the message across.

“Fucking hell y/n, how tight can you be…” You clenched around him, enjoying the gasp that left his lips. “Don’t…not yet… you’ll make me come if you do that.” You both were still for a few moments, giving each other the time to adjust before you decided to start moving. “You okay?” You nodded, arms shaking slightly as you held yourself up. “Move Tae, please…” without another word he began to move his hips, trying to find a steady pace.

After a few thrusts he settled on a harsh pace, skin slapping against skin as he angled his hips perfectly. Brushing along your g-spot with nearly every thrust. Moans tumbled out of your mouth as he moved. “You’re so fucking perfect y/n holy shit. I can’t believe…it took me this long…” you moaned again, not being about to get much out. After a moment you caught your breath. “Took you this long? t..Tae I was the one…to come up to you…”

He groaned in response this time, you had clenched around him as punishment. “Okay okay, you win…ahh…” his hips stilled, you had nearly brought him over the edge. “Rub your clit baby, fuck I need to feel you come.” Despite your Intimate position his lewd words made you blush. You reached down without hesitation - balancing yourself on me arm as you rubbed vigorously on your sensitive bud.

Taehyung picked up his pace again, skin slapping against skin sending your pleasure into overdrive. Your senses became almost overwhelmed as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten again. “Fuck Tae, shit shit… Ahh…” he only grunted in response, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. You clenched tightly, your release was right in your reach.

“Close?” Taehyung’s voice was strained, he was holding back the best he could. “So…close…please oh my fuck…” you moaned loudly, your hand continued to work you through your orgasm, Taehyung’s hips stuttering for a moment before stilling all together. The rumbling groan that left him told too he had come. Finally after a few moments he pulled out and you collapsed onto the plush mattress below you.

“Holy fuck.” You looked over at Taehyung. He had slipped the condom off, tying the top and throwing it in the small trash can beside your bed. “Holy fuck is right. He flopped down beside you, arm loosely sliding over your waist. “You weren’t wrong about the view.” It was still dark out, but the view outside your window was still breathtaking. “Mmh, you get a bit used to it after a while. But I promise you the sunrises never get old.”

“If that’s the case, we’ll have to stay up and watch it.” You smiled, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder. “And what exactly to you suggest we do till then?” He smirked over at you. “You still have plenty of condoms, how about round two?” You leaned up on your elbows, looking down at him with a smirk.

“Deal, But this time - I top.”

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