#and academics always came naturally to me so I’m just here to waste time

[yakultstanreblog]

Do you mind if I ask what you're studying?

sociology, philosophy & Indigenous studies 😚😚😚 (w small sides of gender & religious studies)

#I’m already qualified youth worker tho but not healthy enough to work rn #and academics always came naturally to me so I’m just here to waste time #and accumulate debt lmao #but also I recently reduced my philosophy load bc my relationship w it is hella complex LOL

[yesimwriting]

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

--

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

--

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

--

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

[pigeonflavouredcake]

I'm an adult now take my advice

(or don't i'm not your dad)

Idk how old my followers are overall but i want to make this post in case any of you are actually teens... I am Officially 20 now. I am no longer a teenager so here are some things I learned as a poor teenager that helped me as a poor adult. Some are witchy, some are just about life, most are food related. Buckle up this will get pretty long.

Write as much down as you can bc puberty can really fuck with your memory.

Staying up late because you simply can't sleep is not something to be worried about unless you want to change that. It's pretty much all your natural body clock.

Get a big folder. Like a massive accordion folder and put all your personal documents in, birth/adoption certificates, bank statements, prescription receipts, diplomas, etc. So if you're ever in a dangerous situation at home you can make your escape a lot easier.

Now is a good time to learn new things that aren't school related. Practice cooking your favourite meals, learn how to properly clean a bathroom, if cleaning is overwhelming there are methods online that can help with that. Like playing a spot the difference game.

NO, tarot is not a closed practice, tarot is a tool for everyone and NO, tarot decks do not have to be gifted to you, you can buy one for yourself. I don't even know where that came from but it's complete bs.

Save the little gift baggies you get when you buy jewellery and use them as spell bags.

Stay away from any woman who calls her vag a yoni. it's weird.

You may want to be seen as smart and mature because it's better than being treated like a kid but you are still a kid. Your safety matters more than how mature and responsible you are. An older person should NOT be talking to you in a romantic/flirtatious setting and if they say it's because you're mature for your age or they can't wait until you're legal fucking bully the living shit out of them then block them and warn your friends. that attitude is creepy as hell bc they want someone they have power over. Same with any friends that brag about their partner being 15/16/17 when they're 18. BULLY THEM THEY'RE GROSS AND THEY DESERVE IT.

If you're in a country with the NHS USE IT NOW WHILE IT'S FREE. The first 6-8 weeks of therapy is free from the NHS. Eye tests and dentist check ups and medication are free untill you're 19 GET THEM NOW.

You can make your own oat milk by blending up oats and water. You don't need to cook with oil, there's enough of it in processed food and fresh veg have enough water in them to cook straight in a pan. You don't need the seasoning packet in ramen you can make your own. Tamari sauce has less sodium than soy sauce. Food always tastes better when it's in season. Try to find space for two food wastes, one for processed/cooked food one for raw. The raw food can be composted and given back to the earth

Best healthiest dinner option I can think of is steamed veggies. Here's my recipe: Heat up a pan on high, pour a bit of water in and then your veggies, stir frequently until all the water is gone. Turn heat down to low. Coat with something like balsamic vinegar and add any seasoning you like. Cover and steam for 10 minutes ish and you're good. You can serve that with a grain or some noodles.

Locally sourced meat and fish is WAY better for the environment than supermarket because there's less preservatives and they're more resourceful with their products.

A standard pie dough is one of the easiest things you can make and the trick is in the amount. Half the flour equals the fat, half the fat equals the sugar. so if you have 200g of flour you need 100g of fat and 50g of sugar. Just throw them in a bowl and mix together and add some cold water to bind together into a dough. It should be solid and little sticky, if it's crumbling add more water, if it's not holding it's shape add more flour. then just fridge it for a few hours to set and you're good.

You made your own soup/stew/pot thingy and you got left overs for the next day? Put it back on the cooker and bring to the boil on high, once it's bubbling take the heat down to low and simmer for 10 minutes (keep stirring if it keeps bubbling). This will help kill any bacteria that developed overnight that might make you sick.

Foraging is good but wear gloves, don't take all from one place and don't eat anything you pick until it's been thoroughly washed. Don't be afraid to go hog wild on things like blackberries, dandelions, or nettles. those things are an invasive species.

Deer are bigger than you think they are.

Air drying takes longer but it will help your clothes last. You can also hand wash with a bowl of hot water and about a teaspoon of washing up powder. Air drying also goes for your hair too.

Stock up on your favourite scented candles any size is ok and use them for spells and rituals.

You got a ghost in your house? Leave them be they're usually just passing through.

If you can't focus on work without music but it needs to be specifically wordless and needs to be easy to fill your brain so you don't focus on every noise other people make listen to animal crossing music that shit got me through two years worth of academic reading.

Bus is late or can't find your keys? Stop looking and start complaining. They'll turn up as soon as you give up.

Piercings are a medical procedure and are safer when they're done with a needle because they're hollow, so they're carving out the skin and cartilage instead of just pushing jewellery through like a gun does. Go to a tattoo parlour that also does piercings bc they're likely to be a lot stricter with rules and customer care.

Life is gonna kick us all in the but so we gotta be there to help eachother out however we can. It definitely feels like it's everyone for themselves but it doesn't have to be.

#I'm 20 #please help #advice #life advice #witchy advice #witch #witchblr #witchcraft #pagan witch #pagan #hellenic pagan #paganism #hellenic witch #kitchen witchcraft #kitchen witch

[fwkei]

Time.

Kazutora x fem!reader (angst/fluff)

CW/TW: Mentions of suicide, (slight) mention of starvation.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR VALHALLA ARC

Note! Explanation of story at end just incase you’re confused also i apologize for mistakes, i did not read this over. 🙆🏻‍♀️

WC: 3.4k

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

You sat at the edge of your seat. Watching the clock above your teacher's head ever so closely. 

“When you want to find the common di-” 

Suddenly the bell rang, interrupting your teacher from his final words. 

“Oh my bad, guess I lost track of time, anyways please remember to study for your quiz on Monday! I know it's a weekend, but save some time for academics!” said your teacher as your classmates packed up their stuff to leave. 

Today was Friday, meaning it was the day you get to visit Kazutora at juvie for the first time after Keisuke's death, and your attempt. It was 3:30, and visiting hours started at 4 to 5 every Friday for inmates. Running to the metro takes about 5-7 minutes, and walking from the station to the actual juvie takes about 20 minutes, while the ride lasts up to 10, meaning you should arrive there at around 4:10. And there's no time to waste. 

You ran out of class, ignoring your fellow classmates goodbyes. You held your book bag tight as you ran fast to the Tokyo station. Seeing you arrived just on time you jumped in just before the 3:30 o'clock train leaves to a different side of the district where Kazutora is being held. You held onto the rail beside you to keep yourself steady as the train started to move . 

You felt scared but happy to see Kazutora. He most probably didn't know you would be coming, he probably thought you would at most write letters to him, like before, but again...Kazutora believes that you hate him now. You didn't know what you were going to say to him. Draken told you that he already visited him while you were in psychiatric hold for a bit, and he told you that Kazutora was planning on killing himself. Draken did not specify if he told Kazutora about your own attempt but you didn't worry too much because you were healing, and you now had hope.  

Your heart was racing, as the train came to a stop. As the doors opened you ran, and fast. Dodging people to not hurt them and almost stepping on things you shouldn’t be stepping on. You checked the time to see it was 4:01, and you still had about 10 minutes worth of walking/running to cover. 

You were breathing heavily when the Juvenile building came into view. You checked the time again to see it was 4:11. You jogged to the doors of the building despite the fact that your thighs were burning from the amount of cardio you had just done. 

It's all worth it. 

You thought to yourself opening the doors. 

Kazutora sat on the bed of his bland and colorless cell. He signed as he looked up at the ceiling light before turning his position to look at the side of the wall. He held his pillow tight. He knew it was visiting day, and his heart was anxious despite the fact that others had already been called to see their visitors, and there was still no call for him. He didn't even expect any visitors.

Kazutora didn't know if he wanted to see you or not. He’s spent so much time alone in his cell thinking. He wondered if you had figured out the other reason for him stabbing his best friend, you could read people, but he knew you had a hard time reading him. He felt his heart ache. He was scared of the karma that would hit him because of it. Maybe not even Karma, but just some sort of punishment, for causing pain to the soul that cared for him so much, and for not being there for that soul when she needed it the most. Which... ultimately lead to your attempt, which Draken told him about during his visit. He shut his eyes as he remembered Draken's words. 

“I don’t wanna hear you say there is no point anymore. Because there is, and it’s kinda frustrating and irritating how you can’t see it even though it’s right there. She’s in psychiatric hold right now because she was close to ending her own life. After Baji died, and you were taken away, Y/n couldn't take it anymore, and no one could see it because she just...she just kept it in, like you do. She was going to die on Baji’s birthday if I wasn’t there to make her throw up the pills she took. Her and I may not be blood related siblings, but I know she’s been through a lot and has always gotten over it just fine, you know that...but this time...I got really fucking scared.”

Kazutora felt his heart drop to fucking hell at Draken’s words. He felt his breathing stop as his mouth parted.

“I know you love her, I'm not sure in what way but I could care less about that. I know, Kazutora. All those times you came crying to the brothel, crying into her arms, begging for some type of help and she helped you, lended you her body for you to cry on, I’d hear all of it. I know you’re hurting, but if you go, I don't think she will be able to live with herself. She’ll blame herself for not being there for you like she’s always been. Do you understand?”

He felt his body throb from literal physical pain. Kazutora was feeling and getting the punishment he deserved right then and there. 

“You owe it to her, whether you like it or not, to stay alive because she's doing the same for you. And once you’re out of here, you should finally grow up. Let her cry into your arms for once. She’s your best friend, right? Because she deserves for those efforts to be reciprocated. And you deserve to see what she’s gone through because of everything that happened. Take care, Kazutora.” 

Kazutora was lost in his own mind, to the point where he couldn't even register that one of the guards was calling his name from the cell door.

“Hm? I’m sorry I wasn't...uh, paying attention. What did you say?” he asked sitting up nervously 

“You got a visitor, kid. C’mon get up.” said the man unlocking his cell 

“A- visitor?” he said quietly getting up from his bed with shocked eyes 

It was already 4:15. Kazutora grew anxious at who his visitor could be. He was sure it wasn't you, your school is too far for you to make it here in time. There would only be a couple minutes to spare if you did try. Could it be Draken wanting to give him a word of advice? Or maybe Chifuyu.. Maybe Mikey? God, who could it be. It made him feel even more congested and trapped than before.  

As Kazutora walked, he looked down at his feet avoiding people's gazes. He saw the backs of his fellow juvenile delinquents from the side of his eye. His heartbeat became stronger, and he felt it thumbing in his ears. God, he didn't know what to expect. He was just so...frustrated. 

“Here, you have until 5.” said the guard, taking off his hand cuffs. His back was facing you. You grew anxious bringing your hands to rest on your things and skirt, waiting for him to turn around and look at you. You watched as he rubbed his wrists and sat down at the stool still not looking at you. You rubbed your hands together under the table separating you both, as the guard walked away to patrol. Your eyes followed the guard, not even noticing that Kazutora had turned to look at your face. 

Kazutora felt his face get hot at the sight of you. You had a school shirt on, with a dark blue tie and a sweater vest, Your hair tied into a low and messy bun with some of you natural and dyed hairs falling out framing your face. He felt his whole body go warm as you turned your head and gave him a nervous smile as a small blush formed. He didn't know why he was scared to see you, because every time Kazutora had the chance to see you, he instantly felt better, no matter what.

You two, and the other inmates and visitors, were all separated by a piece of plastic with a vent to capture sound better. On the side there was a subsection with an opening to the other side where you could pass things through. Such as notes, toys, hygiene stuff, and extra. You brought your hands to the table holding them.

“Hey...sorry I’m late.” you said as you saw Kazutora snap out of his gaze 

“Oh no I-, please don’t be..” he said waving his hands frantically, clearly nervous

“I had to run about 2 miles to get here..” you laughed trying to not tense up

Kazutora felt… stupid, why would you do that? Just to see him? It just made him even more confused...confused about how he felt towards you. 

“Just to see me? But..why?” he asked without thinking and just speaking, giving a regretful and embarrassed face after asking his question.

“Hm? Oh well it's simple really…” you said bringing your hands to rest in between your thighs on your seat 

“I know that I've told you that I don't like saying these words to people because it sounds like some sort of goodbye but it’s time I grow up from my past, and stop keeping things in..so…it’s because I love you... I thought that was fairly obvious but I don't wanna mess up like I did last time. I want you to know that I do love you and care for you.” you said giving him a closed eyed smile, this made Kazutora realize that you deeply regretted not telling Keisuke that you loved him more often when you two still had time. He felt his heart ache. He felt so guilty and gross.

“So, I’m gonna try and start saying that more often..” you said laughing to break the silence 

Kazutora was still speechless at what you had just said. He couldn’t seem to process it, and he wanted to say it back but for some reason he just couldn’t. He was afraid that something else might slip out. He truly didn't think he was worthy of your love and care. It became quiet. Again.

“I made you a bento box with your favorite things, I made sure to put some extra meat. Cause you always used to ask for that when I would make bentos for study days with you and Keisuke. And don’t worry! It’s allowed and you can have the kitchen hold it for you till you’re ready to eat it for today's dinner, the guards said so. And the container is microwave safe! So you can warm up the entree section. There’s rice and BBQ meat, little octopus shaped sausages and sauce with it! Oh and a salad with sesame dressing on the side, and desert which is just mochi. Every Friday I'll come by, and give you the new bento and you'll just give me back the old one, so that I can wash it and so we don't have to waste stuff.” you said smiling 

Your hand dung into your bag, and you pulled out a wooden bento box sliding it halfway through the subsection, but Kazutora hung his head low. You smiled, trying your best to make things right, as silence grew loud again. 

“I can also bring some mangas for you, I know you like shounen and also horror.. So I can buy some and give them to you so that you aren't bored! This week's shonen jump is good… It’s about a boy who is trying to save his mom, and ends up traveling across lands, with close friends, to get this special potion that will heal her, but I’ll make sure to look for some good horror manga too...I know you like stuff about folk tales, that sound okay?”  

Silence.

After a few minutes you spoke again.

“I decided to let my hair grow out cause I kinda miss having longer hair…There's this really pretty girl in my class who has long blonde hair.. Like Emma’s but longer and more wavy.. What about you? Anything you wanna do to your hair when you get out? I’ll take you to get it done-” 

Silence. 

The time now at 4:40. Kazutora bit his lip out of frustration, refusing to look up at you. 

“Oh! What about I bring over a sudoku book, so you can work on your academics as well! I can teach you how to play, it’s fun once you get the hang of it. Or I can bring just a simple literature book, it’s really up to you, I think both are great.” 

Silence. 

“Maybe markers so you can draw on yourself when you’re bored? I remember you doing that while I would tutor you and Keisuke. I can get big and small ones, and ones with different colors too. Also a sketch book, since you’re really good at drawing.” 

You were met with silence again. You felt your heart ache. Your eyes looked up at the clock and saw it was 4:47. You both were running out of time. About half an hour went by of your speaking, you giving a couple minutes in between waiting for him to speak back, but nothing. You clenched your hands into fists, biting your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands, resting on your thighs. 

You felt a strong feeling in your throat, the feeling you get when you’re about to sob. You were so frustrated, and you were trying to keep a level head. It was hard and you just wanted to fucking cry. 

“I- '' you said before closing your mouth realizing you were about to let out a whine. You didn't wanna cry, you wanted to say something but you were afraid that if you did, it would just come out as a sob.  

“I know it’s hard on you-” you said holding back your sobs while still looking down at your hands, letting your hairs cover your face 

“If you don’t want me here, I promise- that I’m fine with that...but~” you said in between pauses keeping your sobs in, but your last word came out shaky making Kazutora shoot his head to see you about to cry. 

He felt his heart ache once again. 

 “But please….jus-just say something. Anything. At least acknowledge that I'm here.” you cried quietly while tensing up your shoulders 

Kazutora frowned. This was his punishment. Seeing you cry, and not being able to hold and comfort you like he desperately wanted to. He opened his mouth, but closed it soon after when nothing came out. Not even a squeak, or whine, or breath. 

“I-”

You heard him say. You looked up with tears in your eyes seeing his face of desperation. 

Kazutora wanted to speak so badly, there were so many thoughts in his head he just could not push one out of his mouth, and he was afraid he might say something he would regret. He wanted to respond to everything you asked him, add commentary, tell you that you looked pretty today, say thank you for the food you made him. Tell you to not waste your tears on someone like him. Say sorry for making you feel uncomfortable because of his silence. God he just- 

“I love you-” he choked up and said in a louder tone causing your eyes to widen and mouth to part from shock at his sudden outburst.

He was avoiding your eyes as he spoke. 

“I- thank you, thank you so much for the food! Really! And I would really love whatever and everything you bring me.” he said, quieting down towards the end.  

“I...can’t put my thoughts into words… and I don’t wanna say something I’d regret. All this time I’ve just been lost in my own mind. I just want you to know that..that I really am in- that I really appreciate you. I want you..to be here, and I’m so...sorry for making you cry.” he said in between pauses of frustration and embarrassment 

You felt your body get warm, your heart beat was strong and you could feel it in your finger tips and temples. You opened your mouth to say something before Kazutora spoke again. 

“I..wanted to.. Wanted to help you...in just some way...after seeing you cry for the first time...with Baji in your arms….I shouldn't have stabbed Baji...I took the person you loved more than anything...away from you.. Because I was j- because I was so stupid, and still am. Even when you’ve done...so fucking much for me...I- and I took him from you...I just don’t get it… how can you have any empathy towards me anymore.. It doesn't make sense. I took so much from you… I killed Shinchiro, and I killed Baji. You loved them both...Mikey loved them both, why do..why do you even have any feeling towards me?” he said looking into your eyes with tears   

Your eyes softened at him. You took a small breath before saying-

“I thought I already told you why, Kazutora. I love you.” 

Kazutora felt a tear run down his cheek. He knew how much thought came behind those simple words. 

“I don’t need a reason to love you. Just like I don't need a reason to be hungry. It’s just there, and will continue to be there, you know what I mean? Same thing with everyone I love.” you said 

His breath hitched. The time now at 4:52.

“The only difference is I was in love with Keisuke. I still am in love with him. Even though he’s not here anymore. I know you might think I love him and Shinchiro and Mikey because they saved my life and helped me. But I was only so little. I had no concept of it. So was Keisuke. So was Mikey. Keisuke had no reason to come up to little me while I was starving on the ground practically dying. He just did it. He was too young to understand love. You think he understood his feelings for me the second he saw me? Or even with Mikey or Shinchiro. Of course not. They were just focussed on saving my life at the time. We discovered the love that was involved later. Even if it was too late to say anything about it. It took Kei and I about...hmmm..5-7 years maybe...to understand what we felt toward each other specifically. It is different with everyone. The love is just there, it’ll just be understood when the time is right. Like when your hunger just hits you. So when you ask me why I love you, or care for you, or forgive you. I just can’t give you a simple answer, even if I wanted to….because there's so much. Too much.” 

Kazutora understood your words. He really did. It made so much sense to him and he just wanted to scream.

Why? Well.. 

“The time will come where you believe that you're worthy of someone else's love and even your own, and even worth loving someone else yourself. So don’t worry. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Even if it takes all the time in the world, okay?” you said smiling at him leaving him with shocked eyes

“Alright times up! 5 o'clock!” yelled a guard 

“Well, I'll see you next Friday, okay? I’ll bring over some manga, oh! And don't forget the bento!” you said getting up from your seat as Kazutora did the same keeping his hands on the table as the guard came to cuff them 

“Y/n I-I’m…”

No. He can’t say it. He can never ever say it. Why? And say what? 

Because he will never be him. He can never be like him for you, and he was perfect for you. He was the one there for you. He had the time to love you. He was the one. He could never even compete. Not after what he did. Not after the jealousy and envy grew and brewed inside him towards him. He is filthy. Not worthy of your love. Right? 

But someday, he desperately and genuinely wants to allow himself to be loved, and to love. Kazutora will forever be longing for that moment. And when he can love, and allow himself to be loved, he wants it to be with you. 

But till that time comes..

“I’ll...really be looking forward to it.” he said biting back his words and smiling softly 

“Likewise.” you said smiling as you both parted your ways, at least for the time being. 

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

Explanation/note: when i wrote this, i made y/n be a ‘foster’ siblings with Draken and childhood friends with Mikey and Keisuke. << Reason being is because i gave her a backstory where she was neglected and ran away, hence her having a more naturing personality. Y/n and Keisuke were a couple till he died but Kazutora always loved Y/n so it’s a love triangle in a way? I don’t know, but Kazutora grew envious of Keisuke in this ff which ended up being a motive to stabbing him during the fight, to which he later regrets and gets punishment for. Y/n in the story doesn’t know that so that’s why Kazutora can’t accept her love for real because he doesn't know if Y/n will really forgive him after that, and Kazutora won’t be able to learn/accept love till he admits what he did. Holding in that secret, and being in love with Y/n makes him feel frustrated and act out. And obviously time is the theme of this whole story. Kazutora at the end decided to avoid his feelings because the way things are going right now fro the time being for him are fine because he doesn't believe he deserves anything more.  But that can only last for so long, so he’s gambling with his relationship with you. He thinks of it as his punishment for now, not being able to tell you how he really feels, and not being able to comfort you.

ANYWAYS hope you liked it, sorry if it’s confusing. 

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #kazutora #kazutora x reader #angst #keisuke baji #baji #mikey tokyo revengers #draken #tokyo manji gang #baji x reader

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

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[jarofstyles]

Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar. 

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something. 

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well. 

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today. 

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her. 

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades. 

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her. 

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most  but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be? 

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.” 

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today. 

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face. 

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?”  He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments. 

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal. 

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted. 

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years. 

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously. 

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did? 

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger. 

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of. 

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live. 

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth. 

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties. 

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment. 

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do. 

DaddyH. He was new. 

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck. 

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure. 

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace. 

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice. 

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there. 

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case. 

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to. 

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly. 

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter. 

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #professor!harry #professor!h #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

[mintymiknow]

Trust Fall - ch. 15 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Your mission with SKZ is about to come to its end, and so is, perhaps, your time with them. Of course, feelings become clearer as well, and so you must make the most of whatever is left

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 7.7k

Warnings for this chapter: Highly suggestive and implied mature content (nothing explicit, but I’ve added another warning just before the part starts in case you want to skip it!)

A/N: Another long wait, I’m so sorry for that; I’m just super busy. But, here is chapter 15! I might not be able to update for another long period because my academic requirements are very heavy for the next few weeks. I hope this tides everyone over for now, so please enjoy this chapter! Have fun, and don’t hesitate to drop an ask for any questions or comments!

Slumped on the couch of the lounge room are a few of the boys, eyes glued to the TV screen as another sappy rom-com plays out. Changbin is half-asleep when the on-screen couple kisses, but Hyunjin, on the other hand, squeals and shoves Minho in an attempt to tease him. The older agent furrows his eyebrows in confusion, causing the long-haired agent to laugh.

Chan chuckles softly as he reads the new book Seungmin got him, “Minho isn’t sappy like the guy in the movie, Jinnie.”

“I know, but maybe he can try.” Hyunjin continues to tease, “Where is y/n when I need her to help me with this?”

Minho lightly smirks, shaking his head in amusement, “She’s in the lab with Jisung. Those two couldn’t rest without testing the serums and whatever.”

“Then why is Seungmin here and not there?” Jeongin teases.

Seungmin pinches the younger’s cheek, “Because I already did my part. The stuff they’re doing is now super science-heavy, and you know I lean more on the medical side of this.”

Jeongin giggles when he flops back down on the bean bag, resting his hands behind his head as he does so, “I can’t believe we’re about to wrap this case up. It feels like it was just yesterday.”

Felix looks up from his phone and tilts his head, “I think it’s been...a few months?”

“More or less.” Chan hums, flipping the page of his book.

“I’m gonna miss y/n.” Felix pouts cutely, “She’s a really good friend. She’s caring and listens well and always makes sure I’m resting these precious eyes. She’s like a big sister.”

“Well, she is a doctor.” Hyunjin chuckles, “Caring is part of her nature, I guess.”

Jeongin grins, “Maybe, but it is her personality as well. And, she’s really fun to be with during free time. She’s a bit reserved, but she’s willing to try out activities if we ask her to.”

“Yup, sounds like a big sister.” Minho laughs.

Suddenly, Changbin is much more awake as he sits up and gently elbows Minho’s rib, “Not to you, lover boy.”

Felix makes his way towards Minho to sit next to him, clinging to his arm and pouting his lips, “Can you convince y/n to stay even after this case? Pretty please?”

“I don’t think I can do that, Lix.” Minho says apologetically, “First, her agreement with Jung was to leave as soon as her job here was done. Secondly, I don’t think we can just have her waltz right back in when she was the one who left back then.”

Chan hums as if deep in thought before stating, “Technically, she can work here again, but that would depend on Jung’s judgement, and if she really wants to.”

“Yikes, Min. Just say you want her to stay.” Hyunjin laughs.

“I do.” Minho smirks, “But like I said, she’s an independent woman and I’ll respect whatever decision she has to make.”

Seungmin shrugs, “Never did I think I would see the day that Minho has the look of love in his eyes once again.”

“Hey, I look at you guys with love.” Minho smirks playfully.

Hyunjin scoffs before chuckling, “In what universe?”

“Come here, Hwang.”

Minho crawls over to Hyunjin, and the two proceed to have a mock wrestling match. Hyunjin lets out a shriek just as the lounge room door opens to reveal you and Jisung standing in both confusion and amusement.

“Well, hello.” Hyunjin says as if he didn’t just shriek with a shrill voice.

You stifle a laugh by biting your lip - which, by the way, sends arrows to Minho’s heart - while Jisung grins cheerily and waves at the group. “So, y/n and I are finally done!” the scientist beams, “The solution has been tried and tested, and we’ve made several vials of it already.”

The two of you walk towards the other agents who are now sitting up on the couch or bean bags. You pull a small bottle from your bag and show it to the agents, “This is it.”

Chan smiles in awe, his warm eyes looking at you, Jisung and Seungmin proudly, “I can’t believe you guys did it. That’s amazing.”

“Now give y/n a reward kiss.” Jisung says quickly before clearing his throat, “As I was saying, we can report this to Jung and get the plans rolling and whatever. The solution is ready, this case is going to close!”

“I’m ready to wrap this up.” Changbin says as he stands up and stretches, “Should I file a report for Jung?”

Chan nods, “I’ll go with you.”

Hyunjin leans back on the couch, “Let us know what he says.”

Minho follow suit and gets up as well, nodding at the younger agent’s words, “Got it.”

The eldest agent then gestures for Changbin and Minho to follow him out of the room. With Chan and Changbin walking ahead, Minho briefly stops next to you and flashes a small smile. He doesn’t say anything - just smiles - while his eyes swim with a million emotions at once. You manage to pick apart a symphony of sadness, pride and happiness in the swirls of his eyes, but you aren’t quite sure what he meant with his gaze.

In response, you give him a gentle smile and nod your head. You aren’t sure what you’re nodding to or what that response was supposed to mean, but you did hope that it somehow made things...easier and lighter for the both of you.

With that, Minho lets out a soft chuckle and calls out to Felix, “We’ll contact you when Jung tells us the next step, alright?”

The freckled agent playfully salutes, “Got it!”

Minho regroups with Chan and Changbin by the door and from then, the three agents make their leave and walk towards the main HQ. Hyunjin pats the couch, gesturing for you and Jisung to sit down. You both do so, finally feeling relaxed after working for hours straight. Jeongin melts into the bean bag once more, his smile wide as he speaks, “Now that this case is coming to an end, what has been the best and worst part of this case for you, y/n? Since you’re kind of the ‘newbie’ here.”

“Worst part is definitely getting chased by Cle’s agents and nearly dying several times.” you say lightly with a playful shudder, “And...finding out about Hyunbin’s true identity.”

Jisung, despite being younger, is definitely taller, so he smothers you with what he calls “Jisung’s 100% successful comforting hugs”. The gesture makes you chuckle as you reciprocate the hug, holding your now best friend close to you. Jeongin hums as he tilts his head, making the mischievous glint in his eyes very obvious, “And the best?”

“I…” you trail off, a faint shade of pink on your cheeks, “...being able to be friends with you guys…”

Felix pretends to cry where he sits, bringing a hand to his heart. Jeongin imitates his friend, though his fake-crying is much more exaggerated. Hyunjin looks like a child who was gifted with the best toy in town, and Jisung snuggles closer to you. Seungmin, for a few seconds, smiles like a friendly puppy with sparkly, bright eyes before switching into a more devious expression, “And being able to date Minho?”

“I - ” you trip on your words, pointing a finger at your friend, “We aren’t dating! Or at least...I don’t think we are. I already made that clear.”

Seungmin wiggles his eyebrows, the hum coming out of him nothing but taunting, “But you do love him, don’t you?”

“I love all of you.” you pout.

Hyunjin nods his head with a soft smile, “I’m very grateful that you do love us, but you gotta admit you love Minho in a different way.”

“That’s…” you trail off, sighing and melting in Jisung’s arms as the male continues to hug you, “It’s just really complicated.”

“How so?” Jeongin genuinely inquires.

“After this case...I…” you can’t seem to bring yourself to finish your sentence; you don’t even know why it’s so difficult, but the words remain stuck in your throat.

“We know you’re going back to Gongjak.” Felix says sadly, “But can’t you...stay? Stay here with us instead?”

“There’s a reason why Jung and I came to the agreement of me leaving when this case or mission was over, Lix.” you say apologetically, “My earlier years in SKZ brought in a lot of pain and suffering that can’t be erased no matter what. In fact, working on this case brought in more of that. It was just...made easier thanks to all of you, but...it still brought an abundance of heartache. I don’t think...I actually don’t know, Lix. I haven’t thought about the aftermath, come to think of it.”

Seungmin offers a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry about it, y/n. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. No need to be so hard on yourself.”

“Yeah. We want you to do what’s best for you.” Felix adds in with a beaming smile, “Besides, you may not be with us physically, but we’ll keep in touch, yeah?”

“Of course.” you find yourself smiling, a fluffy and warm feeling blossoming inside you that consumed every inch of you with comfort.

But there also is a bittersweet inkling that stains that feeling; a gnawing irritation that causes you to think the worst - to think that when this is over, everyone will move on with their lives like you never crossed paths in the first place.

You wanted the case to end already, yet at the same time, you wished it didn’t.

A day later, you, Jisung, Seungmin, Jung and the other agents circled around the lab table, a variety of bottles, vials and test tubes laid out on the surface. Jisung explains how the solution works, and without wasting any more time, you use the solution on the Cle serums the team has gathered so far. Within seconds, the copper-like liquid fades in color, turning into nothing but a transparent, clear liquid.

Holding one test tube up, you say, “We’ve basically rendered it harmless, but I still advise against directly getting it onto your skin as it might mildly irritate it. But...the solution makes it safe to dispose of Cle’s serums now. The solution renders the serum into its weakest state, and once mixed with water or evaporated in the air, the chemical properties are gone and make it safe to throw.”

“I see.” Jung smiles and nods his head approvingly, “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Dr. Song.”

“I had great help.” you shrug, turning to Seungmin and Jisung with a small smile; the two males mirror the action.

Chan crosses his arms with a twinkle in his eye, “So, now that we’ve established this, what’s the next step, sir?”

Jung nods, “Yes. We proceed to interfere with Cle’s first transaction.”

The head gestures towards Minho who responds with a nod, “The most recent intel our team has gathered is that Cle is going to entertain a negotiation with an undisclosed third-party in two days in Jeju. This negotiation is said to be for the transaction of several crates full of their serum.”

“Yes.” Jung confirms, “So, we’ll head to Jeju tomorrow and anticipate the business transaction. We will interfere and stop them at all costs. This is one step towards eradicating their entire serum operation as from what the agents have gathered, most of Cle’s completed serums are being sold off in this particular transaction.”

Minho nods, “I suppose Chan, Changbin and I are going?”

Jung puts a finger to his chin as if contemplating a thought; a few seconds pass before he nods definitively, “Yes, you three. I’ll accompany you as well. I believe we should bring Felix as well, so that he can assist with communications and the mainframe systems of the hotel Cle’s transaction is happening.”

“He hasn’t been on a field mission outside of HQ in a while.” Chan chuckles lightly, “I’m sure he’ll appreciate coming with us.”

Jung smiles with an amused laugh, “Is that so? Well then, he’ll come along. I suggest you all get your rest as we’ll be flying to Jeju tomorrow. I’ll have Felix arrange for the flight and accommodations now.”

Chan nods his head and gestures towards the door. With that, Minho and Changbin follow him out of the room. You offer Jisung and Seungmin a smile before speaking, “I’ll clean up here. You two can prepare the solutions for the agents.”

Jisung flashes you a grin and waves, “Cool, thanks y/n!”

Seungmin follows him out the door after saying his thanks, leaving you in the room with Jung. You assume he’s going to take his leave as well, so you busy yourself with tidying up the lab table. However, the head clears his throat and breaks the silence, “Dr. Song.”

You nod your head, “Yes?”

“I am assuming that you want to tag along tomorrow?”

“Yes.” you chew on your lip, “Am I...not allowed to?”

“Oh, no. You are allowed to, but...I strongly advise against it.” Jung states.

This has you tilting your head as you furrow your eyebrows and ask, “Why?”

“We’re dealing with officials and bosses of Cle there.” Jung explains carefully, “And that may include Baek. I know how he...triggers you and I’d hate to see you go through turmoil in such a stressful mission. Minho would hate that.”

“Minho won’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.” - is what you want to say, but you choose to keep it to yourself.

Instead, you reply, “I appreciate your concern, but I...personally want - no, need - to be there. I was there, working for Baek when this serum first came to be, and I want to see with my own eyes that it’s being stopped for good.”

Jung furrows his eyebrows with concern, “Are you certain, Dr. Song? I know Minho will do everything in his power to keep you safe, but he can’t guarantee that. I can’t either. You’re much safer here.”

A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod at Jung’s words. “I know, but I believe this is something I can’t miss out on. If you will let me, I will go as well. I promise not to hinder or get in the way of the mission.” you say with an unshakable firmness.

Jung chuckles lightly, shaking his head, “No wonder he likes you so much. Well, if that’s your choice, I will not stop you. Do get some rest though, Dr. Song. We shall leave tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. Jung.”

With that, the head politely bows and you mirror the action. He then exits the room, leaving you alone to tidy up the lab.

Later on, when all tasks have been finished and each agent is off to do their own things or preparations, you finally make your way back to the living quarters, taking Jung’s advice to get some needed rest for the final mission tomorrow. As you walk across the lobby and approach the elevators, you see Minho standing with Chan, the two males talking with smiles on their faces; it always amused you on how those two were nearly inseparable. It was bittersweet, as seeing Minho in a softer, gentler light was nice, but his bond with Chan also reminded you of what could have been between you and Hyunbin.

Chan notices you from the corner of his eye and smiles, “Oh hello, y/n.”

You nod and smile back, “Hi.”

Minho gives you a smile, and Chan tries not to bite his lip in giddiness. The younger male speaks, “Heading to your room?”

“Yeah, get some rest.” you answer, gesturing to the two, “I assume you two will do the same? Or are you going to follow Jisung and Hyunjin to the bar?”

Chan laughs, “No, but close. I’m going to the snack bar. I...lost a bet and owe Jeongin a snack.”

You chuckle, “Interesting event.”

Chan grins, a hint of mischief brewing in his eyes, “Minho’s gonna get some rest though...so…”

Minho lightly smiles before playfully smacking Chan’s shoulder. The older male lets out a warm laugh just as the elevator arrives and the door opens. The three of you step in, but Chan gets out ahead at the floor of the snack bar.

As the elevator ascends to your floor level, Minho leans against the wall and chuckles, “You can say no, but - ”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even finished.” Minho laughs.

You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement, “Yeah, but I already know what you’re gonna say.” you lightly pat his chest, “So yes, you can stay.”

“You really can’t stay away from me, huh?” Minho teases.

The elevator door opens, and the two of you walk towards your room. While walking, you playfully scoff, “Me? You’re the one going to my room.”

“But you can refuse. You just don’t want to.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you want to be with me.”

“I could always go to Seungmin’s room to annoy him.”

“No.” you blush after realizing how quick you responded, “I mean...Seungmin needs the rest...so...no. Don’t bother him.”

“You need the rest too.”

“I rest better when...you’re with me.” you choke out.

Minho smirks, “What was that?”

“Nothing.” you grumble after getting your door unlocked and stepping inside.

Minho follows after you, closing the door with a click. After kicking off your shoes and hanging your lab coat on a hanger, you flop onto your bed and release a relieved sigh. Minho chuckles as he joins you, sitting by the edge. “Jung told me you were insistent on coming along.” he says.

You close your eyes and hum, “Yes. I just...it’s like closure for me.”

Minho nods, a small smile on his lips, “Alright. But y/n, this might be more dangerous than all the previous missions you’ve gone to with us. We’re talking about a really important business transaction, so Cle is surely going to have much more skilled protection.”

“I know.” you reply, “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Minho sighs, laying down next to you so your arms rested against each other, “It’s your safety.”

“I…” you look for the right words, “I’ll take care. I’ll stay away from danger. I’ll stay with Felix.”

“That seems to be best.” Minho hums, reaching for your hand to weave your fingers together.

You give his hand a quick squeeze. The two of you lay side-by-side in silence, allowing the tranquility of the moment to settle and blanket over you. Minho is about to doze off when you suddenly speak, voice soft and hushed almost as if you were afraid to break the silence.

“The case is really almost done, huh…”

Minho slowly peels his eyes open and hums, “Yeah.”

Another second of silence.

“What’s it like for you agents? When a major case or mission is done?” you ask, and Minho can tell you’ve shifted your head to look at him and not the ceiling.

The male blinks a few times before answering, “Well, life goes on. We take a day or two off, preferably to recuperate or recover especially if we have injuries. Then...more missions and tasks.”

“What are you going to do after this?” you ask, though really, the question is directed more to yourself than to Minho.

“Eat, sleep and probably hang out with the boys.” Minho says casually, “You?”

And the dreaded question.

Technically, both you and Minho were aware that the original agreement you and Jung had was that you’d return to Gongjak after this case. But things happened, feelings bloomed and second thoughts resurfaced, so now, going back to your job at the hospital didn’t seem too...exciting.

With a sigh that held all your confused thoughts and contemplating musings, you answer, “I haven’t thought about it until now.”

Minho is about to open his mouth to say something when he stops abruptly; he closes his mouth when he feels you shifting around to climb on top of him, essentially laying above his body. The male can’t help but smile to himself as you lie down atop him, your head perfectly rested against his chest. As if on instinct, he wraps one arm around you while the other gently strokes the back of your head.

“What’s gotten into you?” he laughs lightly.

“I just…” you trail off and release a chuckle, “...wanted to relish the moment.”

“Hmm...hey.”

This prompts you to lift your head, eyes meeting Minho’s sleepy yet soft gaze. A slow smile eases its way to the agent’s lips as he whispers, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

But Minho doesn’t answer your question; instead, he gently presses his lips to yours, allowing you to adjust to the languid, sweet pace he set for you two. You reciprocate his kiss in an instant, humming in delight when the male deepens it ever-so-slightly. The kiss was like sugar melting on top of a hot cinnamon roll to form a syrup-like consistency; it oozes and covers you with a thick, warm and sweet feeling.

When you both pull away, you whisper against Minho’s lips, “I should be the one saying ‘thank you’ to you.”

“You know we’re going to argue about who says what to who for hours, right?” Minho jokes.

You laugh with him, resting your head on his chest once again. “Whatever, Minho.” you mumble.

Minho lets a few seconds pass before he angles his head to check on you. When he sees that you’ve fallen asleep, a warm feeling blooms in him yet again. Soft snores escape your semi-parted lips, he’s almost tempted to kiss you again.

But he doesn’t and simply chooses to run his fingers through your hair, lulling you further into sleep. With his other arm still wrapped around you, Minho closes his eyes as well, allowing himself to, as you put it, relish the moment before succumbing to sleep.

The next day, the Jeju team is driven to the airport by two of the other officers in the organization. In one car, it’s you, Felix and Minho, while in the other one is Jung, Chan and Changbin. Once at the airport, the team is ushered towards a more private area where a “private jet” of sorts is provided. The rest of the team is also there ahead of your group.

You gape your mouth in awe, causing Minho to smirk at you. He ruffles your hair before walking towards the jet with the other agents and Jung. Felix falls into step beside you and loops an arm around yours, “Government connections kind of situation.”

“I see.” you chuckle lightly, walking with the freckled male towards the jet.

Once settled inside, Changbin takes a quick nap while Minho and Chan are busy going over some papers and files. Jung is eating some of the food being served while talking to other agents. You and Felix sit across each other, sharing a slice of cake that was served. “Have you been to Jeju, y/n?” Felix asks.

“Yeah, but mostly for seminars and medical or science work.” you reply, “You?”

“A few times for missions. I’ve been there for vacation once or twice with the other boys.” the younger male chuckles, “But that was I think two years ago or so.”

“Must be exciting for you to be back, then.”

“Yeah! It’s a really nice place.” Felix grins after chewing a piece of cake, “When we get the chance, we should all go...in a non-mission context of course.”

“Sounds good.” you offer a small smile; would that still be possible even after you walk away from all of this? All of them?

You don’t dwell on those thoughts much longer because Felix begins to share a story on how he and Jeongin got “lost” in Jeju for a day while the older boys were busy sightseeing. You tune out any worrisome thoughts and opt to give all your attention to Felix’s storytelling, smiling once more at his innocent enthusiasm.

After some time, the team arrives at Jeju and is once again greeted by pre-arranged agents - according to Chan, they’re SKZ agents stationed at Jeju. After each of you gets all your belongings, the Jeju team ushers everyone to the designated transportation and is driven to the hotel where the mission should be taking place.

While Jung and Chan are warmly getting things settled with the receptionist, you and Minho stand to the side and watch. Changbin and Felix seem to be looking outside where the hotel looks over to a beautiful beach.

“You know,” Minho starts, “it would be more fun in here if we were actually in Jeju for a vacation and not a mission.”

You grin, “Yeah? Felix did mention that.”

The agent half-smirks, half-smiles, “How does a Jeju vacation with us sound? Me, Chan, the other boys?”

Your cheeks blush a faint pink shade as you smile at the male, “You know I’d like that.”

“Oh? You would?”

“Definitely.”

“Hmm.” Minho’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches for your hand, holding onto it with a gentle squeeze, “Guess I’ll have to tell Chan about that.”

After a few more minutes, Chan and Jung return with keys and room assignments. The head explains that the agents need to go through the main plan and backup plan as soon as possible, as well as scout the area for an advantage against the enemies for tomorrow’s mission. While he’s talking to Changbin and a few other agents, Chan walks over to you and Minho.

“In case you wanted an explanation,” the eldest agent starts with a smile, “we’re here a day ahead of the actual mission date so that we agents can have some sort of upper hand.”

You nod, “So you can check on the hotel’s layout, familiarize yourselves with the surveillance and tech systems, right?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Chan chuckles, “Felix does a lot of that. As for Minho, Changbin, me and the rest of the team, we’re also here earlier so we can have some sort of bearing as to how the main plan goes, where to go and what to find in case we need to use backup plans, and routes to utilize in worst-case-scenarios.”

“I see.” you smile, “I was kind of wondering why Jung had us all go so early when the actual mission is tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s normal. But you can also use this time to check on the bottles of solutions and get some rest afterwards.” Chan smiles at both you and Minho, “Come on, time to work.”

With the agents spending the rest of the day getting ready and familiarizing themselves with the place and going through plans, the evening comes by quicker than expected. You did your part and monitored the solutions the team had brought and made sure everything was safe and intact in that aspect. Afterwards, you had dinner with Felix before the younger agent excused himself to check on the tech equipment one last time.

It wasn’t that late yet, probably 9:00 in the evening, when you returned to your hotel room to rest. You got showered and changed into your sleepwear before grabbing a book Hyunjin had lent you for the time being. Seated on the bed with your back against the headboard, you immerse yourself in the said book.

An hour and a half passes by when you’re more than halfway through the book when you hear a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice speaking your name - it’s Minho, of course.

You get up and open the door for the male, greeting him with a tilt of your head, “Am I needed for something?”

Minho chuckles, “Nope. Just wanted to see you.”

You don’t fight the blush that spreads across your face, “Oh...well...don’t just stand there I guess.”

You step to the side to let Minho in before closing the door and locking it once he does. You both walk further into the room where you sit on the bed and yawn, “Are you guys done preparing for tomorrow?”

Minho sits next to you and stretches before leaning back to lay on the bed while letting out a breath of exhaustion. “Yeah, it’s time to rest.” he hums, closing his eyes.

“Let me guess...you've decided to rest...or actually - sleep - in my room again?” you laugh.

Minho laughs, his smile so stupidly charming, “You know me so well.”

“I’m not surprised.” you smile at him, playfully grabbing a pillow and lightly smacking him.

The male lets out a comical “oof” before sitting up and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, burying his face at the side of your neck. You stifle a giggle, running your hands through his hair, “I can see you’re very tired. I suggest you sleep now.”

Minho lifts his head, resting his chin on your shoulder to look into your eyes with a sleepy smile. You chuckle, lifting a finger to lightly tap the tip of his nose. “Are you going to oppose my...medical suggestion?” you joke around.

“And what if I will?” Minho smirks in response.

“Naughty patient.” you pout.

A switch triggers in Minho, and his smirk turns more mischievous as his eyes twinkle with a hazed excitement.

“I’ll show you naughty.”

**[Warning: heavily suggestive themes begin here, but nothing explicit. Still, it highly implies intimate acts and may describe things vaguely, so should you wish to skip this, press CTRL + F (or any command to help you search for words on a webpage) and search “And so after you both clean up and take a shower”. You can continue reading from there]

You roll your eyes at his flirtatious remark, but the male is quick to silence any sort of snappy remark that tries to leave your lips. In an instant, his lips are on yours, clashing with a burning hunger. The force of it all causes you to gasp, and Minho takes the opportunity to kiss deeper; of course, you don’t resist and respond to his advances with equal zeal.

Minho gently grabs your wrist, effortlessly pulling you on top of his lap. While you straddle the male, your arms wrap around his neck to pull your bodies closer. Minho continues to kiss and kiss and kiss until you pull away, a panting mess with swollen lips and very flushed cheeks. He, however, doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he latches his lips onto the skin of your neck, starting with feather-light kisses.

“Minho.” you breathe out, unconsciously tilting your head back slightly.

He just hums, a faint smirk forming on his lips just before he proceeds to press open-mouthed kisses on the junction between your beck and shoulder. After you gasp out again, said kisses now turn into occasional licks and sucks, surely promising a canvas of purple blooms the next day. As if he couldn’t make things any more...heated, Minho’s hands freely roam your body, traversing every inch like he needed to feel something. You press yourself closer to him, humming in satisfaction.

When he pulls away, his eyes are on you, dark with desire but still retaining its warmth. “I think you know where this is going, but I’ll only push through if you’ll let me.” he whispers, placing a peck on your lips.

You can’t help but giggle, nodding your head, “I’m all yours.”

“So am I.”

With that, the agent grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and pulling it over your head. Soon follows your shorts and underwear, leaving you bare. It wasn’t as if this was the first time Minho saw you naked; the moment of intimacy you both shared in your room after the rooftop was the first.

Yet as you sit on Minho’s lap, very much aware of his eyes on you, the tips of your ears burn red. Minho, however, doesn’t waste any time in littering every inch of your body with kisses, his lips grazing your skin in a dangerously addicting way; every kiss, lick and nibble on your body sends tingles of pleasure in their wake, causing you to shudder in delight.

With his face buried into your chest, your fingers come to tangle into his messy hair, tugging the strands whenever his lips grazed a certain area; the sound that leaves Minho’s lips spurs you on, giving his hair another tug. Growing slightly impatient, the male holds onto your hips, using subtle movements to grind you down onto him. Yet another gasp - or maybe it was a moan now - escapes you, and it just makes the male guide your movements quicker.

His lips leave your chest, returning to hungrily kissing your own lips. Tongues meet and dance in a fiery performance, wet and sloppy sounds echoing in the hotel room. Minho sucks on your tongue, one hand leaving your hips in favor of caressing a certain area.

“Minho, please.” you whisper shakily, disconnecting from the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders.

The male chuckles warmly, his breath fanning against your skin. He shifts around, carefully laying you down on the bed with him looming over you. He kneels for a moment, unbuttoning his shirt while smiling fondly at you. You playfully roll your eyes, hearing the sound of his belt clinking. When he leans over you again, your arms automatically snake around his neck.

You peck his lips and ask, “Are you...sure we can be doing this? Especially if you have a mission tomorrow?”

He responds with a slow kiss on your lips, “All the more reason for us to do this.”

You furrow your eyebrows with a slight pout on your lips. “Meaning?” you mumble, mind going to a fairly negative direction such as “his life being in danger in tomorrow’s mission, leaving you with the possibility of him getting gravely injured or even dying”.

Minho chuckles lightly, bringing a hand up to gently sweep a few strands of hair away from your face. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. “Nothing.” he starts, a small smile on his lips before he says your words from the other night back at you, “I’m just...relishing the moment.”

He distracts you with a hypnotizing kiss, slow and intimate compared to the hungrier ones you shared not too long ago. With his lips feeling like velvet sliding against your own, the male pushes in, earning a pleased gasp from you. Shifting around to make sure both of you were comfortable with everything, Minho supports himself with one arm while the other snakes behind the small of your back, arching it to bring your body closer to his.

Maybe it was the prospect of tomorrow’s mission being more serious and dangerous than usual. Maybe it was the idea that this may be the last time you two get to spend a night like this before you walk away and leave SKZ behind for good in favor of returning to your life as a doctor in Seoul’s top hospital.

Or maybe it was the realization that yes, you both loved each other and wished you realized sooner so you could have more time with each other.

Nonetheless, Minho’s thrusts tonight were filled with urgency; no, it wasn’t a pathetic or desperate sense of urgency, but more of an urgency to get his feelings and intentions across - an urgency to know if you felt the same. An urgency to make sure that if this was surely the last, then it should at least be monumental.

His kisses, though slow and now sloppy with how you were both moving against each other in perfect rhythm, held a delicate yet solid promise that kept you grounded. The agent moved his hips with purpose as did you, lips clashing and breaths mingling. Your nails raked the skin of his scarred back, digging into the flesh as if it were the only way to keep him with you. Your cries for his name and moans of pleasure entered his mouth like a mantra, filling him with more purpose, and his own groans and grunts sent tingles and showers of shivers through every inch of you.

Soon, the male has you seeing stars of ecstasy, blinding you and filling every sense with unexplainable pleasure. With one last shaky cry of his name coming from you, Minho sees the stars as well, now burying his head between your neck and shoulder as he slowly halts his hips. You both remain in place for a few more seconds; Minho lightly kisses your neck while you run your fingers through his hair, both of you catching your breaths.

After a while, Minho pulls away and looks at you, smiling warmly, “I’m sorry, I know you already took a shower.”

“It’s fine.” you chuckle, sitting up as he does, “Just...stay”

“Of course.”

You and Minho then lay on the bed, cuddled up in each other’s arms, the soft cottony sheets pulled over your bodies. As usual, you rest your head where it fits perfectly by the crook of his neck, hands gently rested on his chest. Minho wraps his arms around you, ensuring that you were as close as possible. Now, Minho was much more used to not falling asleep, so it doesn’t surprise him that you’re drowsier than he is right now.

With a yawn, your words slur as you speak, “Good night, Minho. Don’t die on me tomorrow.”

He chuckles to himself, kissing your forehead, “Good night. I promise I won’t, y/n.”

As expected, you fall asleep within a few minutes, snuggly safe and secure in his arms as you snore your exhaustion away. Minho tucks in a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses the crown of your head. With his lips against your hair, he mumbles, “I love you.”

If he notices the way you shift even closer to him, he doesn’t say anything.

If you could sleep for another hour, you’d gladly take the offer. Who wouldn’t? The hotel bed was amazingly soft and comfortable, and the man holding you close made you feel safe and warm. However, it’s mission day, and a sudden knock on your hotel door followed by a cheerful “It’s Felix” wakes both you and Minho up.

You’re still a bit groggy, head filled with sleep, so Minho gets up and puts his pants back on. He opens the door to reveal a smiley Felix, waving in greeting, “Good morning, Minho.”

“Morning, Lix.” Minho offers a small smile before stepping to the side to let Felix in.

By the time you’ve shaken the sleep from your eyes and are more awake now, Felix is already by the corner of the room, sitting on a chair with a laptop on the small table. You grab the sheets and use it to cover your bare body, stuttering at the morning’s events, “Felix?”

Felix chuckles, eyes never leaving his laptop, “Morning, y/n!”

Your eyes dart to Minho who is leaning against the wall near Felix. “You said you’d stay with Felix during the mission, so here he is. You’ll both stay here.” the older agent explains.

“I see...but Minho…” you clear your throat, eyes wide as you glance down to the sheets covering your body to get the male to realize what you’re trying to get at.

Minho walks over, placing a kiss on top of your head before whispering, “You can get dressed in the bathroom. Promise, Lix is a good kid; he won’t look.”

With that, the agent drapes one of his jackets around your shoulders and offers a small smile. “Lix.” he says warmly.

The freckled agent nods with a smile, bringing his hands over his eyes, “I’m not looking. Trust me!”

You stifle a giggle, looking at the younger male with amusement. You then get out of bed, shooting Minho a playful grin before sticking your tongue out. Grabbing your clothes, you make a beeline for the bathroom and close the door. While you’re getting dressed inside, Felix removes his hands from his eyes and cheekily whispers at Minho, “Wait ‘til Jisung hears that you and y/n were busy making love the night before a mission.”

Minho raises an eyebrow and smirks, “Gotta make everything worth it, right?”

“Right.” Felix clicks his tongue.

You then come out of the bathroom to see Felix now laying on the bed, elbows supporting him as he types away on his laptop. Minho is fully dressed by now, and by the looks of it, he’s ready to leave the room. A small frown meets your lips, and an anxious feeling bubbles in your stomach as reality sinks in. The agent does his best to offer an assuring smile, walking over to you. He gently takes your hands in his, squeezing gently.

“It’ll be fine, y/n.” he pecks your lips, “Trust me.”

You nod, succumbing to a moment of weakness by leaning closer and wrapping your arms around his torso, head leaning against his chest. Minho reciprocates the hug, encircling his arms around your figure as he presses another kiss to your temple. After a moment, he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, “Also, y/n. I need you to hold onto something for me.”

You tilt your head when the male pulls a small pouch from his pocket, placing it in your hands. It seems like there’s a liquid inside the pouch as you gently feel it with your fingers. “What’s this for?” you inquire.

Minho winks, “Just hold on to it. Don’t use or open it, just keep it with you. Later on in the mission, you’ll know what to do with it and what it’s for.”

You offer a small smile and nod, “Alright.”

The male then gently puts a finger under your chin, tilting your head up. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, deep kiss. You blush after hearing Felix stifle a squeal from where he lays on the bed, hugging a pillow to contain his giggles. Minho pulls away much too soon for your liking and whispers, “See you later.”

“See you later.” you repeat, voice barely audible.

Minho then gives Felix a high-five before wishing each other luck. Then, the older agent is out of the room, leaving you with the freckled male. Felix pats the bed and grins, “The mission’s starting soon, but I hacked all the cameras, so if you want to observe, stay here!”

You chuckle, taking a seat next to Felix, “Alright.”

“Oh, I brought some packed sandwiches in case you’re hungry.”

“Thanks Lix.”

Almost an hour passes before any actual developments in the mission happens. You and Felix are still seated next to each other on the bed, eyes on his laptop screen. While watching the static screens, you ask, “Are they supposed to interfere during the meeting or right after?”

Felix hums, tilting his head from side to side, “It depends on the situation. The agents tend to adjust their plans accordingly. Though judging from this setup, I’m pretty sure they’re interfering right after. You know...to give Cle a false sense of success. That’s honestly Minho’s style.”

“I see.” you nod, “That seems best. It might be easier to deal with Cle’s guards and fighters that way too.”

“It’s a bit double-edged.” Felix pouts, “It may be easier, but it can also be difficult to deal with both fighting and making sure that they don’t escape.”

“That’s...true.” you hum.

“But...Minho isn’t the type to let anyone escape as soon as he’s set his eyes on them. Same with Chan and Changbin.” Felix smiles, “They’ve got this.”

You both stop talking, however, when a figure enters one of the meeting rooms of the hotel. “I’m surprised they don’t check for CCTVs or anything, especially if they’re doing shady business.” you whisper.

Felix chuckles, “Technically, the meeting rooms don’t have CCTVs. I installed micro surveillance cameras in every room just for this mission.”

“I see.”

You and Felix watch two men - one stranger and Dr. Baek - sitting in the meeting room and apparently talking to each other. Nothing much happens for a few minutes, the two men just sipping their glasses of water while snacking on some peanuts. However, when the meeting door swings open, you and Felix peer closer to the laptop screen, watching out for any developments.

Neither of you, however, expect to see Jung walking into the room calmly and greeting the men with a bow.

And it’s not just him.

Seconds later, Chan and Minho are by his side, arms crossed as they nod in acknowledgement towards Dr. Baek and the other stranger.

You and Felix look at each other at the same time; your eyes are filled with panic and confusion as Felix remains speechless. You both turn to look back at the laptop screen; Jung, Chan and Minho are now seated across the Cle members, their body language composed and calm as Jung seems to be speaking with Dr. Baek.

“I thought…” you trail off, throat running dry.

Felix scans his laptop screen for any other activities in other places and areas. When nothing seems out of place, he checks his phone for any messages from any of the other agents from the team, including Changbin. When he gets nothing, he sighs, “I don’t...I don’t know. This isn’t part of the plan. They didn’t mention anything like this, not even in the backup plans.”

While Felix is busy observing and mumbling “what are you planning, sir?”, your eyes remain glued to Minho’s face through the laptop screen. His eyes are dull yet sharp, lifeless yet cold. There’s an emptiness to his eyes, but even through a screen, you can see a threatening, dark storm brewing in them.

Then, as if he knew you and Felix were watching, Minho side-eyes into the micro camera. The freckled agent doesn’t notice as he’s too busy trying to contact Changbin, but you catch it immediately. Of course you do; Minho doesn’t move his head in the slightest, but you know he’s looking into the camera, his quick side-eye like he’s piercing straight at you. After, he returns his gaze to the two Cle members.

Then he smirks.

#stayhavennet #stray kids #lee know #lee know scenario #lee know imagine #minho #minho scenario #minho imagine #lee minho #lee minho scenario #lee minho imagine #skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #imagine #scenario #lee know x reader #minho x reader #lee minho x reader #spy au #secret agent au #au #spy #secret agent #series: trust fall #s: trust fall

[kitkat1003]

Where the Sea Meets Earth

Ao3 Link

Summary: 

Tang's life has fallen into a steady, comfortable routine, one he feels no need to change.  

So he doesn’t.

Until he has to.

Note: Hi!  Lowkey used an idea from @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off  when it came to Pigsy's rival.  They make great content, give them a look!  As always, shout out to my beta reader, @imnotcameraready, the most kind and patient editor out there.  She edited this all in one night, the mad lad.  Send love her way!!  She goes by UncrownedKing on Ao3, check out her stuff!  Anyway, have fun!

Tang’s routine is simple.  Get up, watch Pigsy make breakfast.  Steal an egg or two that Pigsy definitely didn’t make in preparation for such thievery.  Follow Pigsy around as the noodle shop is set up for the morning.  Listen to the hiss of oil in a hot wok, water bubbling in a tall pot, knife against the wooden cutting board, each slice precise with practice.  

Admire the way Pigsy’s arms bulge with muscle as he lifts heavy boxes of spices, meat and vegetables.  Watch the sweat on his brow build up as he tosses the ingredients in the wok, stirs the broth, sticks a pinkie in before pulling it out to taste the concoction, tilting his head to the side in thought every time before reaching for a different spice—

Chuckle when MK scrambles down the stairs, a second before being late.  Wave back when MK greets him enthusiastically.  Listen to Pigsy bark orders.  Watch MK vanish out the store door, listen to the sound of the delivery cart starting up.  Wait for the customers to come in.

Sometimes, between the breakfast and lunch rush, he will vanish into the town.  He’ll peruse the shelves of a bookstore, maybe get a book or two.  Then, he’ll come back to the restaurant and watch Pigsy work until closing, with the occasional interruption from MK or Mei.  Pigsy will make dinner, and they’ll eat while watching TV before ending the night, asleep next to each other.

It’s a steady routine, one Tang feels no need to change.  

So he doesn’t.

Routines are brought on by repeated motions and consistent action.  He finds himself considering them more and more, these days. Tang follows the lines back, through time, to trace where each routine began, as Pigsy yells at MK to get going.

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He lives off a trust fund from his late parents, as well as a few checks from his work in historic preservation.  His family has passed down the stories of old for years, and he knows them well and by heart, because at 18 his memories had come flooding in, and suddenly he was older than time itself and yet just old enough to have sake enough that creating books and speaking on historical inaccuracies is easy to turn into a living.  

A few years ago, he gave it up because it hadn’t seemed important to bother anymore after his parents died.  The next year he’d wasted time coasting through town after town, sharing random tales for a meal, trying to forget that he was alone, until….

Two years ago, he watched Pigsy throw a customer out of his shop, threatening the unruly guest within an inch of his life, and thought Well then.  Something interesting.

Tang had actually gone to the rival noodle shop first. It seemed a bit more inviting.  Pigsy, for all his culinary achievements, is still very closed off, and his shop certainly reflects that.  Sometimes, Tang wonders if Pigsy would get more customers if he’d change his attitude, but he never brings it up, because what would Pigsy’s Noodles be without Pigsy?

He watches from afar a few days, until the Pigsy’s rival shop owner not so subtly nudges him over, and the moment he walks in, he’s knocked to the ground by a very exuberant noodle delivery boy.

“Oh my gosh!  I’m so sorry—are you alright?” Tang sits himself upright to the sound of frantic apologies, seeing a kid no older than 18 fretting over him as if he’d been stabbed instead of simply knocked over.  

“It’s fine,” he starts, a little annoyed but not rude enough to make the boy more panicked than he already looks to be.

“MK, what did you do?!” Comes the familiar gruff voice from the kitchen, and the boy—MK, Tang has gathered—helps him stand as the chef walks out of the kitchen, hands on his hips.

“I didn’t notice him coming in—I just knocked into him—it was an accident!” Tang worries, then, because MK seems scared, but those worries are swept away when the chef takes a deep breath and slowly, his stance relaxes.

“It’s fine, kid, just get those deliveries out, ‘kay?” his voice is so gentle, Tang remembers now he was taken aback. Now it feels so natural for Pigsy’s voice to be gentle.  “I’ll take care of this.”

MK nods to that, jittery and anxious, and walks out with a forced slowness that Tang can tell is from worry and guilt.  Once he’s left, Tang turns back to Pigsy, who lets out a breath and mutters something about how ‘this kid is gonna be the death of me’ before looking up at Tang with what Tang later learned is his customer service expression.

“Alright, c’mon in.  Welcome to Pigsy’s Noodles, home of the longest noodles.” 

At that, Tang has to snort.  He saunters over to the barstools and sits as Pigsy goes back behind the counter, into the kitchen.

“I don’t know if long is the metric you want to brag about,” he snarks, settling easily.

Pigsy grunts in reply, already back to cooking.

Two minutes later, Tang gets a bowl of noodles placed in front of him.

“On the house,” Pigsy grouches, before Tang even thinks to reach into his coin purse.  “For the trouble.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very sound business practice,” Tang laughs, taking a sip of the broth after it cools a little.  

It was the best he had ever tasted.

“Don’t get any ideas about it.” Pigsy fidgets with his chef’s hat, face settling into a scowl, and yet Tang can tell it was all bluster with no substance.

He pulls a pair of chopsticks out of the free container, snaps them apart, and eats as customers flit in and out of the shop.

Despite the fact that he never stays in one place for too long, Tang finds himself sticking around more than just a few weeks, trailing through the streets and eventually finding himself back at the noodle shop.  The noodles are delicious, cheap, and he finds the company of the chef a comfortable one.

Things get far more interesting when the delivery boy, MK, comes down late and gets an earful for it.

“Sorry—I stayed up late drawing the autobiography of Monkey King and I missed my alarm!” MK bows in apology, frantic, and Pigsy runs a hand over his face, pointing MK to a dirty table to clean.  

MK gets to work quickly, but Tang turns to him with a curious expression.

“You like Monkey King?” he asks, and he hears Pigsy groan from the kitchen.

“Here we go,” Pigsy mutters, but he does nothing to stop MK from turning to face Tang with a wide, blinding smile on his face.

“Do I!  He’s so cool, and strong, and handsome, and interesting!  I’ve watched the animated series like, fifteen times!” he rushes up to Tang, pushing a very worn, bound together book.

Tang flips through it, more out of politeness than anything else, and finds himself pleasantly surprised by the intricacy of the sketches, the love poured into pages, notes on the stories themselves scrawled out next to the drawings.

“This is...surprisingly accurate,” He glances over at MK, who preens at the praise.

“Thanks!  I’ve been drawing these, since, like, forever!  It’s going to be Monkey King’s autobiography.  Uh, unofficially, anyway,” MK rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.  Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s always nice to see the younger generation so interested in history,” Tang grins with pride as he adds,  “You know, I know essentially every Monkey King story.  I even wrote an academic paper on them.  Published.”

He watches MK’s excitement grow. “Really?!  Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!  Can you tell me one?  Pretty please?!” He’s bouncing on his toes, and Tang can’t help but chuckle.

“I could tell you a tale or two,” he starts, watching as the shine in MK’s eyes grow.  “But I need something in return.  A bowl of noodles, perhaps?”

MK’s smile drops, and he fidgets.

“I don’t know if I have the money…” he mumbles, mostly to himself, and then he turns to Pigsy, a question in his eyes.

“No,” Pigsy says, immediately. 

Tang has never seen someone use puppy dog eyes like a weapon before, but MK pulls them off like a pro.

MK’s hands are clasped together. “Please?”

“I got bills to pay, kid!  I can’t be giving free meals to strangers!”

“Well, I’m hardly a stranger,” Tang teases, smile widening when Pigsy reddens.  “We met yesterday, remember~?”

“Shut yer yap,” Pigsy grinds out, but Tang has seen Pigsy far angrier, from his reconnaissance days at the shop across the street, so he isn’t worried.

Pigsy turns back to MK, mouth clearly open to rebuff the kid, but MK’s puppy dog eyes have been turned up past 100%.  Tang watches as Pigsy crumbles beneath their gaze.

“Fine,” he grits it out between clenched teeth.  “But this is a one time thing!  I don’t have time for freeloaders around here.  And not now!  I got ten orders to make, that you have to take out,” he points to MK, who is nodding his head so quickly his face becomes a blur.

“Okay!  So, in like an hour, okay Mr.Tang?” he turns to Tang, who grins, calm as ever.

“I’ll be here,” he responds, voice even, and MK busies himself with cleaning up the tables before Pigsy hands him the orders.

When MK disappears, Pigsy sighs.

“You know, pretty sure it’s rude to use kids to get free food,” he says, and Tang can only chuckle again.

“I’m not sure what you mean.  I’ve used my knowledge to score many a meal before, this is no different.  You’d be surprised what people will give for an interesting story.”

Pigsy snorts, at that, and rolls his eyes.“You a good storyteller, at least?” he asks, and Tang puffs out his chest proudly.

“The best.” After all, his papers got him a pretty good amount of wealth, so he’d hope he’s good enough to earn that.

Pigsy turns back to his prep work, shaking his head, but Tang sees the barest hint of a smile, before Pigsy turns away.

Despite protests from Pigsy, Tang comes back the next day with another story and receives the same free bowl of noodles.  He doesn’t get noodles every day, not stupid enough to think that Pigsy could afford to give him one daily, but he appears at the noodle shop every day regardless, if only to watch the hustle and bustle of the place, watch Pigsy work.

Pigsy works with practiced motions, not a single measuring cup or spoon appearing in his hand.  Pinches, handfuls of colorful spices thrown in with fresh vegetables.  Tang watches him string out the noodles from fresh made dough, dropping them in the broth, stirring, always test tasting, constantly adding something else, another pinch of spice, until he’s only somewhat satisfied.

It’s a familiar feeling.  The need to constantly make better, the chase for perfection.  Is it any wonder, then, that Pigsy’s shop thrives?  Customers learn that deliveries are often better than eating in, because Pigsy’s attitude is abrasive and he’s loud in the kitchen. Regardless, he runs a big enough business and makes good money, enough to keep MK as an employee despite MK’s many missteps.

Tang learns, through snippets of conversations, that MK lives upstairs.  Pigsy gave him the job and the room.  MK doesn’t talk of his parents, or any of his family really, but he has a friend, Mei.

Mei is as loud as MK is, and she’s familiar in the same way Pigsy.  These people he meets at the noodle shop who come for company just like he does, lives slotting into each other with ease.  Talking to them is like picking up a conversation left off a thousand years ago, stumbling only for a second before falling into the familiar groove.

Tang slowly learns the group dynamic, learns that MK’s parents haven’t spoken to him since he was kicked out, that Mei stays as far away from her home as she can for as long as possible, that Pigsy has nothing to his name besides his shop and himself.

Sees the family, the foundation, centered around the little hole in the wall restaurant, and keeps himself rooted, just for a little while.

The shop is closed every third Sunday of the month.  That is the only day that it is consistently closed.  Pigsy works seven days a week, twelve hours a day, without fail, except for that third Sunday.  Tang forgets, one month, and catches Pigsy heading out in the early morning.

“What, forgot you can’t steal food today?” Pigsy greets him with a frown that softens into something like a smile.

“Maybe I don’t come for the food,” is Tang’s snappy reply, and he watches with satisfaction as Pigsy pauses, thinks, and then turns a dusty rose color.

Turns out, Pigsy’s ears blush with his cheeks.  “Anyway, going on a walk?  I might join you,” he turns.

Pigsy stares at him, as if he can’t tell if Tang is serious or not, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and starts walking.  “I’m going shopping.  Don’t get in my way,” is the response, and Tang takes it for the acceptance of the company that it is, and catches up to Pigsy with ease, stepping in time with him.

The perks of having long legs.

Tang watches as Pigsy charges his way into the market, eyes sharp for the best ingredients, the ripest vegetables—or, the vegetables soon to be ripe, to save for the later weeks.  He gets a practiced amount for every ingredient that goes into his food.

“Have to get the meat weekly, but the produce can last if I make it,” Pigsy explains, and Tang nods.

“That makes sense.  I never notice a drop in quality, regardless of the week,” he comments.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure anything tastes great to a freeloader,” he grumbles.

“I’ll have you know I have a refined palette,” Tang huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pigsy laughs then, raucous and loud, a sound Tang has never heard from him before.  His heart pitter-patters quickly in his chest, and he thanks everything that his scarf hides his face and that Pigsy is short enough to not be able to spot his blush.

“Okay, wise guy,” Pigsy’s voice draws him back in.  “You ever cooked yourself a meal before, then?” He elbows Tang gently, or as gentle as Pigsy is able to be, and Tang stumbles a bit before replying.

“Well…,” his voice alludes to the obvious answer, and Pigsy laughs at him all over again.

Tang decides he likes the sound.

A few months after Tang has cemented his spot at the noodle bar, Pigsy goes to usher him out of the shop one evening as he closes for the night and stops, right before heading up the stairs. He turns to Tang with an unplacable look.

“Where are you even staying?” Pigsy asks.  “Not a resident, I think I’d’ve noticed a newcomer that was moving in.”

Tang shrugs at the thought. “Wherever.” 

Typically, he’ll head out to a busy bar and ingratiate himself to someone, convince them to let him join their party, and sleep on a random couch.  He’s always gone before anyone wakes up, to be sure he misses the questions that would come from the house’s inhabitants.  If he can’t manage that, well, he’s not above sleeping on a bench somewhere.  It isn’t cold out yet, so he doesn’t worry about it.

Tang very well could get an apartment, with the amount of money he has saved.  He could, but then he’d be trapped.

He’d have to say that he’s settling down, that a place is going to become home.  And no place has really been home, not since his parents died and he walked through empty hallways and empty rooms that once meant something and now meant nothing to anyone besides himself.  He’d sold the house, stored the memories away, burned the rest and ran before the smoke cleared.

How could he stay, when there was nothing left? He’d settled in for the long hall, cemented himself as something soft like the earth, and then it had been ripped away from him like roots, tearing up the soil and leaving a mess in its wake.

So he became stone, and left without a word.

Pigsy stares at him, something almost like concern on his face.  Tang watches Pigsy’s eyes glance up towards the stairs, and then back to him.  Deliberating.  Tang tilts his head to the side, ever curious about the concern.  He knows Pigsy cares, and he knows Pigsy, beyond the gruff exterior, is pretty soft, but he’s surprised by this development.  He didn’t think that care would be extended to, in Pigsy’s words, a freeloader.

Then, Pigsy sighs.

“I’ve got a couch, if you’re interested,” he says, and Tang

Tang just follows Pigsy up to his apartment.  There’s a hallway at the top of the stairs, a door they pass by that Tang can hear pop music playing in.

“MK’s place,” Pigsy says, before Tang can ever ask the question.

They reach Pigsy’s apartment door, at the end of the hall, and head in.

It’s a cluttered space.  Well, everything save for the kitchen is cluttered.  The kitchen is pristine, so much so that the rest of the apartment pales in comparison.  It’s not dirty, there’s no trash or dishes left out, but there are just random items, magazines, cookbooks strewn about the rest of the living space.

“Sorry about the mess.” Pigsy says as he pulls off his chef’s hat and coat, hanging it up by the door. He takes off his dress shoes, and pulls out a pair of slippers from a bin, putting them to walk on the carpet.  He glances back at Tang expectantly.  Tang pulls off his scarf and hangs it up.

“It’s no problem.  I wasn’t an expected guest, I’m guessing?”

Tang takes off his shoes and pulls a pair of slippers from the bin.  He isn’t surprised by the kitchen being clean, but he is a bit confused by the clutter.  Pigsy takes care to keep his work space pristine, scrubbing it to sparking at the end of each work day.  Perhaps this is a product of that, and Pigsy just is too tired to care as much in a space that is more his than it is his profession.

Somehow, that makes Tang concerned.  He can’t pinpoint why.

Pigsy pulls off the random items from the couch, throwing them aside but scattering them further.  He grunts in response to the rhetorical question.

“I’m gonna get a pillow and blanket.  Don’t break anything.”  Pigsy trudges off, and Tang looks at the clutter, and then at the perfectly good, half empty bookshelf.

By the time Pigsy gets back, Tang is sliding the last book onto the shelf.  There’s still the other items that are less easy to categorize, but Tang would be remiss if he left perfectly good reading material to collect dust on the floor.

Pigsy opens his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closes it.  He tosses the pillow and blanket on the couch.

“Uh...bathroom’s down the hall on your left.  Night.” 

Then, he vanishes into his room.

Tang finishes cleaning, and then goes to bed himself.

It becomes part of the routine.  Pigsy never demands he come upstairs, but he never shuts the door on Tang, either, and Tang will never shoot down a free place to stay.  Pigsy gets used to him, even.  Sees Tang sitting on the couch, makes dinner, hands Tang a plate whatever it is and drops down on the couch to watch TV.

If it isn’t making fun of trash TV, Pigsy screams at cooking shows.

“You can’t just throw onion in it and expect it to work out!” he shouts.

Tang laughs.  “Very bold from the guy who only serves one type of dish.”

Pigsy turns red.  “I can make other food!” The argument is sound.

“I know,” Tang assures him, taking a bite of the steak salad Pigsy prepared.  It’s the best he’s ever tasted.  “You just choose not to, which I don’t understand.  Why only noodles?”

The question throws Pigsy off guard, and Tang waits patiently for him to collect his thoughts.  Finally, Pigsy sighs.

“They’re what I like to eat, I guess.  Besides, if I made a full scale restaurant, I’d hafta get more cooks, hire waiters, ugh,” Pigsy looks disgusted just thinking about it.  “The kitchen’s my place, I don’t trust any two bit cook to get it.  I mean, just look at the ones on TV!” 

He gestures to the television, as if Tang hasn’t been watching. Tang nods, glances at the screen anyway.  “I like how the shop is.  It’s small, but it’s good.  Bigger doesn’t mean better.” 

At that, Tang has to laugh.  “You would think that,” he responds, and at Pigsy’s confused look, he gestures to Pigsy’s stature.

“Shut up,” Pigsy says with a blush. Tang can’t stop laughing, and Pigsy cracks a smile.

Living with Pigsy, Tang finds out, means dealing with all of Pigsy.  This includes the moments where Pigsy can no longer keep a lid on his already hair-thin temper.

The clutter of the house suddenly makes sense when he comes up to the apartment to see Pigsy throwing books around the room, raging face red and pained and furious in a way Tang has never seen before.

“Bastards!” Pigsy shouts, voice hoarse.  

He’s been clearly shouting for a while.  His knuckles are bruised, and Tang spots a few dents in the wall.  

“I’ll kill em!  I-,” He freezes, upon seeing Tang standing by the door.  

Tang watches as Pigsy reigns in his rage, somehow, forcing his shoulders to drop, standing up straight, letting out a breath.  It looks painful.

“I see something’s bothering you,” Tang comments, direct and gentle as one can be when trying to talk to someone on the precipice of blind rage, as Pigsy breathes heavily.

“Leave.” Pigsy spits it out with a vitriol that is not aimed at Tang, but at something Tang isn’t a part of.  

Tang knows this, and he won’t let Pigsy drown in it.  He stands still, as the storm rages in blue eyes.

“No,” he is stone, hands clasped together.  Pigsy grits his teeth, clenches his fists.  The wave rises and crashes down.

“GET OUT!”

It’s loud enough to make Tang wince, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

At that, Pigsy goes boneless, slumping down on himself.  Tang steps forward, carefully, quietly, and directs Pigsy to the untouched couch.

Untouched because it’s Tang’s bed, Tang’s space.  Because Pigsy would only destroy himself and his things, would only rage at the things he deems worthy, and Tang wonders, why does Pigsy think himself worthy of this hatred, the anger that sits in Pigsy’s heart?

Pigsy sinks into the cushions.  Tang takes his bruised hands and holds them, letting Pigsy breathe.

“MK’s folks,” Pigsy finally spits out.  “They found out the kid’s got a good job and an okay place, and now they want a cut of his earnings.”

The tone of Pigsy’s voice is nothing short of derisive, and Tang understands the fury now.  It’s funny, that he knows Pigsy enough to tell the difference between rage that’s performative and fury that’s real, but it’s not that hard for him.  

Fury like this comes from care, and there is no one Pigsy cares more about than MK.  MK, the boy with the sunshine smile who likes Monkey King and drawing and will work himself to death for anyone’s approval.

“I’d have told em to shove it, but MK’s got a soft heart, and they told him it was paying back for all the trouble they had raising him.” Pigsy laughs, and it’s very, very bitter.  “Like they raised him.  Mei probably was a better parent than they were, and she’s his age.  Bastards.”

Tang swallows the information, takes a deep breath.  He wouldn’t consider himself easily angered, but this?  This makes him furious.  He doesn’t express his fury like Pigsy does, isn’t destructive, is cold and quiet and deadly.  But he saves that for later, for when he can look up MK’s parents and figure out how to ruin them when it comes to their jobs, their social standings, their lives.

“Technically, that could be charged as harassment,” he suggests. 

Pigsy snorts at that, at least.

“Yeah, but MK’s only 17.  He’s turning 18 in a few months, but until then they could drag him back, charge me with kidnapping, ruin his whole life just because he isn’t their fucking lap dog,” The rage returns, and Tang watches as Pigsy carefully clenches his fists, as if he were too quick about it he could hurt Tang. 

It strikes Tang, then, that he has never been afraid that Pigsy would hit him.  It never crossed his mind.  Because how could it?

“I’m gonna commit a felony,” Pigsy mutters.  

Tang snickers.  “I’ll drive,” he responds.  

Pigsy looks up at him, and Tang hopes the expression on his face bleeds the sincerity he feels.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my car,” Pigsy smirks as he says it, and he relaxes a bit more, the anger draining out of him like water through a sieve.

Tang wasn’t aware that he was tense himself, but he relaxes a bit, too.

“But you’ll get blood on the steering wheel.  And besides, it’s no fun not having a criminal record.  I ought to start it sometime, right?”

“You don’t know anything about me, if you think this’ll be the beginning of my record,” Pigsy half laughs.

Tang shrugs. “You’re right.  But, I’d like to.” 

Pigsy looks up at him, then, the red in his face smoothing to something dusty and rosy and beautiful.  Tang looks away first.  “But, first, you need some ice and bandages for your hands.”  He gets up to grab it.

When he comes back, Pigsy tells him all about the boy who would come in with exact change for the cheapest bowl of noodles, once a week every Friday.  How the boy would ramble on and on about everything, and Pigsy would listen out of politeness, and somehow that turned to a fondness he couldn’t shake.  How that boy came rushing in, half soaked in the rain, hiding out just for the moment before he was going to keep running. How Pigsy had thrown caution to the wind and moved mountains to get the kid to stay.

Tang listens, disinfecting the areas on Pigsy’s knuckles that are cut instead of just being bruised.  He wraps them, gentle, and places ice on both.  Even then, he doesn’t let go of the hands, lets them settle in his grip like they’d always belonged there.

“You’re a kind person, you know,” he says, when Pigsy is done.  And he means it, too, thinking of MK alone on the streets, thinking of MK turning out like he did but without the funds to support him, a drifter with nothing and no one.  It makes his stomach churn.

“Nah,” Pigsy shrugs his shoulders.  “Just had a lot of time to get into practice with it.”

He doesn’t elaborate.  Tang lets the conversation end, and turns on the TV.  He cleans up the room when Pigsy falls asleep.

Pigsy makes him noodles the next day, without comment.  Tang smiles and eats.

A lot of people miscategorize Pigsy as fire.  Tang would like to propose a different point of view.

When he sees Pigsy, he sees the sea.

The ocean is never calm, but it can fall into a rhythm.  Small waves, rippling waters.  Crashing against the obstacle that is land, constantly pushing, constantly trying, constantly moving.

Pigsy will rage like a storm, he will shine like water in the sun, and he will fall into a rhythm as he works.  He will push back against the rock that is indifference, and, like the ocean, he surrounds anything and everything, connecting every person he comes into contact with, as if they were the continents themselves. He ebbs and flows, forcing himself into the issues that plagues those he cares about, and yet pulls back and gives them space, never demanding anything other than their time, if they could give it.

The ocean is not harsh, nor is it merciful, but it is a force of nature all the same.  And, if you weather its storms, it will carry you wherever you need to go.

And Tang sees a man who gives MK a reason to stick around when all MK wanted to do is run, Tang sees a man who never lets Mei skip a meal regardless of her status and wealth, Tang sees a man that makes sure Tang has a warm and safe place to stay, and sees the ocean carrying battered ships to shore.

Learning about MK’s family has opened up certain topics.  Tang knows it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy asks about his life.  That doesn’t stop him from stiffening, from going stone faced, when Pigsy finally brings it up.

“I don’t hear you talk about your folks,” Pigsy mentions offhandedly.

When he turns around and sees the expression on Tang’s face, he frowns.

“No,” Tang responds. 

He says nothing else.  Pigsy doesn’t press.  Just turns back to making dinner.  And Tang stares at his reflection in the teacup.  He takes a sip.  It burns his tongue, but he doesn’t feel it.  

“They died.  Nearly two years, now,” he finally says, and it’s like dropping a weight off of his shoulders.  

Pigsy grunts in acknowledgment.  Doesn’t give him the sad stare, the ‘oh I’m so sorry’, he just glances back with something softer than pity and closer to empathy.

Somehow, it lessens the dull ache in his chest.

“They good ones?” Pigsy asks.

Tang smiles, just a little.  “Yes,” he breathes, and it hitches, thinking about how they pushed him forward, how they never demanded but always encouraged.  Tang wasn’t good at making friends, not close ones anyway.  But that never mattered, because his parents were there.

And now…

“Mine are gone too,” Pigsy says, after some time and mostly as an afterthought.  “It ain’t easy, dealing with it.”

Tang huffs a wet laugh, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes.“No, it isn’t,” He responds.

Pigsy slides a bowl yanduxian soup, with some some skewers of meat, and sugar coated haws for dessert.  Quite the array of a meal.  Pigsy sits across from him, and starts in on his own meal.

Tang eats.  It’s the best he’s ever tasted, as always.

Looking up at Pigsy, something in his chest warms.  He thinks about his parents and it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“I think they’d have liked you, if you’d met them,” he says, softer than he feels, because he’s never said anything about love but this is as close as he can get.

Pigsy looks up, cheeks glowing, and he smiles and Tang melts, just a little. 

The apartment becomes lived in.  During one of their shopping trips, Pigsy gets Tang a different outfit, muttering something about Tang needing something to wear when his clothes are being washed.  Two outfits becomes three, becomes four, all hung up right beside Pigsy’s sleep shirts and chef coats.  Tang gets his own toothbrush.

He buys himself books and they fill up the empty space on the bookshelves.  He buys alcohol, stores it in Pigsy’s fridge and laughs off the comments about his poor taste in baijiu.  He was never one to settle in, he never thought he could again, but slowly Pigsy’s apartment becomes their apartment and the change in his mind as he thinks of it leaves him wide eyed and spiraling.

Pigsy takes it all in stride, greeting Tang in the morning with something on his face that looks...pleased?  Tang doesn’t understand it, and yet it makes his face feel warm when he thinks about it.

The winter months roll in, because while they have a weather tower to regulate weather it does not mean that they can ignore the need for seasons, and the apartment becomes colder.

“Do you not have A/C?” he curls up tight, beneath his blanket, and still shivers.

Pigsy rolls his eyes.  “Maybe if you didn’t freeload all the time, I could afford to use it!”

Later, Tang will find this all as a facade.  He knows Pigsy would never blame him for being without the funds to pay for heating.  In fact, the noodle shop does better in the winter months, because of the desire for warm, filling food to combat the chill.  He will later find out that Pigsy forgoes the A/C in his apartment to save up money to give MK a yearly Christmas bonus, both as a present and so MK can heat up his room.

In the moment, however, he just turns away with a huff.

Pigsy sighs.  “The bed’s warmer,” he says. 

Tang stares, blankly, until it finally hits him what Pigsy is suggesting.  “Why, you cad!  Trying to bed me when we’ve barely courted!” He leans back on the couch dramatically.

“Shut up!” Pigsy looks very flustered, and Tang grins, leading Pigsy to snap some more.  “You were the one complaining about being cold!”

Tang sips his tea, and shrugs.  Pigsy turns back to dinner to hide his blushing face.

That night, he moves to sleep in Pigsy’s bed.  It’s a pretty large one, it isn’t as if there isn’t room for the both of them.  The move is purely practical, after all.

Pigsy sleeps in a tank top and boxers.  Tang wonders if the tank top is for his sake.  They both get in the bed very stiff, neither wanting to acknowledge what’s happening. Tang curls up under covers, back to Pigsy.  The bedroom is indeed warmer.  Tang imagines the small heater sitting in the corner is likely the reason.

He turns his head.  Pigsy is already asleep, trails of light from the outside signs segmenting his face.  He’s snoring.  He looks calm.

Tang stares for longer than he thinks he should, before he lets his eyes slide shut.

It becomes routine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As whole, as Tang reminisces on the moments bringing him to his position, he’s quite glad he decided to stick around.  It’s a strange place, this city, full of danger and mystery, now that MK is the monkie kid, now that the demons are free, but at the same time little has changed, and that is something Tang can appreciate.  Every morning he settles at the noodle shop and lets life continue, predictable, comfortable.

And maybe that’s his mistake.  That he thinks he can coast forever.  The sea is many things, but predictable is not one of them.  

The downfall starts when Mei mentions that one of her aunts has been trying speed dating.

“She made the mistake of signing up for the straight couple’s night.  She told me that when she realized, she left faster than the speed date itself!” Mei taps her fingers on the noodle bar, giggling along with MK at the thought.

“Speed dating doesn’t make sense.  I mean, how can you figure out if you like someone in a minute?” MK crosses his arms over his chest and ponders.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I knew I liked you in sixty seconds,” Mei boops Mk on the nose, and he laughs, before making a face.  There’s a mixture of emotions there—disgust, confusion, fear?

“Yeah, but that’s different.  We’re friends,” he stresses that last word, looking at Mei expectantly. “Just friends.”

“Well, duh!  I was just saying,” Mei rolls her eyes.

Tang watches the tension roll out of MK like a breeze.  He wonders...but will never waste an opportunity to snark, so he sets the thoughts aside for a moment and leans back on the counter.

“I’m sure I could charm anyone in sixty seconds.  Where is this happening, exactly?” he asks.

Mei gives him a look. “I’m pretty sure speed dating isn’t for people who are already taken,” she tells him, and Tang blinks, confusion painting his features.

“What do you mean?” he asks.He jumps when Pigsy’s knife slams hard against the wood of the cutting board, harder than normal.  

Tang frowns. “Pigsy, you alright?”

“Peachy,” Pigsy growls out, from the kitchen.

Tang stares, before shrugging it off.  Pigsy’s moods aren’t entirely predictable, after all, and it isn’t as if anything terrible has happened today.  Pigsy’s cooking smells as heavenly as ever.

He turns back to Mei and MK, but they’re disappearing out the door, MK with the next batch of deliveries in hand.  Tang tilts his head to the side in confusion, before shrugging.

Oh well.

Pigsy is still stilted, when they head upstairs that night.  He’s quiet during dinner, quiet after dinner, and instead of watching TV he goes back to the kitchen to make a dessert.  Tang follows, sitting at the kitchen island, watching how Pigsy shuffles about, glancing occasionally at a recipe.  Cocoa powder, flour, eggs, different ingredients come out.  The oven is preheated.

“Something’s clearly bothering you,” Tang says, finally.

Pigsy stiffens.  Runs a hand down his face.  Sighs.  

He keeps working, throws the dessert in the oven, sets a careful timer.

Tang waits, and waits.

The kitchen is silent, save for the ambience.

“What is this, Tang?” Pigsy’s voice is hard, hands resting on the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched as he finally speaks up.  He sounds exhausted, from days and days of work.  Tang frowns.  “You steal food from my shop, you sleep in my house—you live with me, for pete’s sake, you—what is this that we have?”

And Tang, Tang doesn’t know what to say.  

“Is this even something?” 

He’s basked in the freedom to be himself, with Pigsy.  A label defines, a label makes you inseparable.  Tang comes and goes as he pleases, he doesn’t get pinned down, he’s one and alone, with Pigsy by his side.

He has called himself a ‘father figure’ to MK, but that is inherently different.  There’s a degree of separation, with that label.  He can still leave, and MK will not be too bereft.  MK has others, Tang is just one.  Pigsy wants more than that, he doesn’t want the separation, and Tang is always unsure.

“I just—” And there’s something quiet and breaking in Pigsy’s voice.  

Tang says nothing.

“Whatever you want from me, Tang, you have it.  I’ll-I’ll give you everything, just—” 

Blue eyes, like the constant tide of the ocean, meet earth in Tang’s brown ones.  

Tang is afraid he could erode.

If he stayed.  

What would he become, if he shifted his foundation?  

“Is there a point to this?” Pigsy asks.  “Or am I just something you keep around?  To say you have one?”

Tang knows that he is a man of words, of stories, knows he is Triptaka, is Tang Sanzang, and myriad others placed in the body of a single man, knows he has more knowledge in an inch of his brain than most gain in their entire lives, but he has nothing to say now.  

His thoughts halt at the wounded expression on Pigsy’s face.

More than just anger and softer than just hurt, settled between an aching heart and a broken one.

“I…,” he starts, and then his mouth clicks shut, because he is, before and now, a coward eventually.  

Whether he is captured by demons or putting his foot down against others’ bad behavior, he falters.  And he is terrified, because the swell of his heart, the affection that warms him enough to burn, is too much to bear, to articulate.

So instead, he says nothing at all.

And he knows he’s erred, because Pigsy turns his back as the timer dings.

He pulls the set of mini cakes from the oven, sets them down on the counter with forced gentleness.  Tang flinches at the harsh bang of the oven closing.  Watches Pigsy’s chest rise and fall with harsh breaths that hitch with an emotion Tang can’t place, before Pigsy swallows, steels himself, stills.  Clenches his fists as if readying himself for a fight.  Tang doesn’t know what the battle is, wonders what side he’s on.

“Forget it.” He hears, finally, and Tang feels his heart jump in his throat.

The words sound like a relent, like something giving way.  It strikes him like a spear through the chest, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

The mini cakes cool in a few minutes, but it may as well be hours with how silent and still the kitchen is, and Pigsy sets one on a plate for Tang, placing it in front of him with a fork. Chocolate lava cake, something Tang had mentioned off handedly as an interesting dessert to try.  Of course Pigsy remembered.  Why wouldn’t he?

Pigsy vanishes into his room.  The door slams shut.  Tang eats.

It’s the best he’s ever tasted, like always.

He sleeps on the couch.  It’s cold.

Pigsy doesn’t open the shop, the next day.  Tang leaves early in the morning, before breakfast, to give him some space, and comes back from his leisurely morning walk to a closed sign hanging on the door.  Unlike the last time, MK waves at Tang, hopping down the stairs excitedly.  Pigsy gave him the day off, because Pigsy isn’t feeling well, apparently.

Tang sees the worried lines in MK’s expression and promises he will make sure Pigsy is okay.  MK runs off, to meet Mei at the arcade, and Tang heads up the stairs.  He passes MK’s apartment door and stands in front of Pigsy’s door.

He knocks.

“Pigsy?” He calls, loud enough that he can’t be missed.  “It’s me.  Can I come in?”

Silence.

Tang doesn’t know how to handle rejection, didn’t think it possible, from Pigsy.  In the two years they’ve known each other, he has never been rebuffed.  Has never been told, in no uncertain terms, to leave.  Pigsy has shouted it without heat, before, but it has never rang true.

He stands outside the door for twenty minutes, trying to swallow something akin to fear crawling up his chest, as he slowly realizes the door isn’t going to open.  He waits another ten minutes after that, processing the realization, the pain in his chest.

“Alright,” He says, finally, and he prays Pigsy doesn’t hear how his voice shakes.  “Get well soon.  I’ll see you in the shop.”

He should demand to be let in.  He should kick down the door, do something.  Be bold, be brave, courageous.

But he never was a fighter, so he turns on his heel, and leaves what is left of their relationship on the welcome mat.

He walks through the city, again, because he has nothing better to do now.  There is no comfort from stepping into the noodle shop and feeling like home.  There is no barstool with his name on it, no random bowl of noodles appearing at his seat inconspicuously, no begging for a story from MK, no fond looks from blue eyes in the kitchen.  

Tang had settled into routines and expectations.  The rug has been pulled from beneath his feet as he tries to grasp the idea that the comforts have crashed into dysfunction.  He tracks every minute of the two years he’s spent here, tries to trace the beginning of the end like a true crime investigator, and still, he can’t decipher why the equilibrium shattered.

Change is a product of existence, Comes a memory from his days as a monk.  You must let life flow like a river, accepting the directions it will take.

But Tang isn’t a monk anymore, and he is not flowing like a river or any such nonsense that sounds far more like what Sandy would say.  He is analytical, he is intelligent, he is knowledgeable.  Despite all of that, he is stumped by this situation, by what he is to do.

The answer, of course, is the simplest, but Tang is pretending not to be ignoring it, because acknowledging the solution means making a choice he can’t undo.  To decide if he wants this to be set in stone.  Can he tie himself down like this, can he make that choice to stay, forever if it comes to it?

At the same time, hasn’t he already?  Just a day without being able to go into the noodle shop leaves him aimless.  A day without Pigsy and he is lost, without much to do or see.  He has centered himself about the warm air of noodles and the gruff smile of the chef making them.

And that is so, so terrifying.  When you give everything, when someone is your everything, what happens when they leave?  He’s dealt with that enough with his parents, and to become a pair, to be a part of something, he doesn’t think he has the strength for it.

But Pigsy gives and gives, and promised Tang everything, if only Tang would stay.  And Tang is a coward, but not enough to ruin something so simple, so kind, and so honest.

He makes a decision, and heads to the bank.

The next day, the noodle shop opens.  Tang is there when it does, settling into his barstool without fanfare.  He follows Pigsy’s movements with sharp eyes, notes the rumpled form of his shirt, how his pants aren’t tucked into his dress shoes, how his feet shuffle against the tile instead of stomping with purpose.  Pigsy moves slow, turns to look at Tang and has bags under his eyes—or could they be red from crying?  Tang isn’t sure.

His heart aches, as Pigsy regards him with something like heartbreak.  Pigsy says nothing, turns back to his work, and Tang watches.

Step one.

He heads to the market between the lunch and dinner rushes, picks out the ingredients from memory.  He’s walked with Pigsy enough times to know what it is that he has to get.  He comes back to the shop with an armful of grocery bags, heading upstairs to their apartment.  Pigsy never locks it during the workday, and Tang uses that fact and knowledge to his advantage.

He has no idea how to do this, but he chops the vegetables and meat and sets the water to boil.  Brings forth the memories of two years of watching Pigsy make the same thing over and over, and maybe looks up a recipe or two on his phone for reference.

By the time Pigsy comes upstairs, when the shop closes, it’s ready.  Tang pours the servings into two bowls, and nearly jumps and drops everything when the door opens.

“Welcome home,” he says, braver than he feels.

Pigsy stares at him, at the bowl of steaming broth, and sets his chef’s hat on its hook.  He pulls off his shoes, puts up his chef’s coat, leaving him in a t-shirt and slacks.

Tang watches Pigsy’s movements instead of thinking about how to approach the situation.  He gets a little distracted, until Pigsy hops up onto one of the island chairs, pulling a bowl towards himself.  Tang sits across from him, waiting for Pigsy to take a sip.

Pigsy takes the chopsticks offered, as well as the spoon.  He takes a sip.  His face remains carefully neutral. 

Tang takes a sip a few moments after.  He promptly sputters into his bowl, and laughs.

“God, this is terrible!” he can’t stop laughing, and he can see a smile peeking at the edges of Pigsy’s mouth.  “I tried to make it like yours, but I guess I’m coming up short,” he glances at Pigsy, looks him up and down.  

Pigsy’s face is dusted with a pleased blush.  “Shaddup.  And hey, it ain’t worse than my first attempt at cooking.” 

Tang snorts at that one.  “I doubt that.  But, do tell.  I don’t think you’ve ever told me why you decided to become a cook in the first place, anyway.”

This is the start.  Tang makes Pigsy a meal, and Pigsy tells him a story.

That night, he sleeps next Pigsy, like usual, and traces the way the moonlight sets upon Pigsy’s face.  He needs to do more.  He needs to be more, and he’s pretty sure financial support would be somewhat helpful, so he schemes.

Step two.

A few days later, as the air between them settles into something like normal, he appears one afternoon, change in his pocket and bills in his wallet.

“A bowl of noodles, please.” He sets the money on the counter.  It’s enough for at least three bowls of noodles, but that’s by design.  

“Keep the change.” He evene winks, like it’s a joke

Pigsy eyes the money and then gets the most offended look on his face, as expected. Before he can make a move to either argue or even respond, Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and explains.

“Didn’t you know?  This month is my charity month.  I go to different establishments and pay to keep them afloat.”

Pigsy rolls his eyes.  “Pshh, I don’t need your charity to keep this place runnin’!  Pigsy’s Noodles is a thriving establishment,” he rebuffs.

“So you’re refusing my service?” Tang responds, like a challenge.

He raises a brow, and watches as Pigsy gets redder and redder.

“One bowl of noodles, coming right up,” Pigsy manages through gritted teeth.

Tang hides a laugh behind his hand as Pigsy scoops up the money and grumbles, shoving two of the bills into the cash register and one into the tip jar.

Because MK had been bemoaning a lack of sketchbook paper, a lack of money for replacing such, and just like every time MK talks about something he wants, off handed or to complain because that’s how he deals, Pigsy will take some of the money that should go to the shop into the tip jar when MK doesn’t look, smiling to himself when MK excitedly realizes that, thanks to the tip jar, he can get what it was he thought he couldn’t—

Because Pigsy gives and gives and gives, pieces of himself scattered across and holding together the people he’s chosen to keep close, regardless if Pigsy is the one who ends up falling apart in the end, and Tang wants to fill up the spaces that Pigsy has lost from his generosity.

Tang takes his bowl of noodles and smirks, like he’s won.  That night, when they’re sitting on the couch and watching TV, Pigsy leans his head on Tang’s shoulder.

“You coulda just said you wanted to start payin’ rent,” he mutters.

Tang snickers.  “Where’s the fun in that?  You got so red, I thought you were going to become a tomato.”

At that, Pigsy sits up.

“I’ll show you a tomato—c’mere!”

Maybe it’s a bit dangerous to challenge someone who knows all of your ticklish spots.  Tang laughs until he cries, and concedes to Pigsy’s victory. 

Step three doesn’t really register.  He doesn’t think about it, because the first two steps have brought him back into that comfortable routine.  Maybe he might have fallen into the same bad habits, if not for his hyperawareness of Pigsy’s moods in the following weeks.  He doesn’t want to miss something, like he did before.  He wants to be attentive, be kind.

He wants Pigsy to never again think of or ask the questions he did, that night.  He wants Pigsy to know, immediately, what they are.  Even if Tang is afraid to define it.

It’s a typical day at the shop, but Pigsy is a bit more tired than normal.  Some days, this happens.  Pigsy would never hire another chef, even though he has enough business to afford it, and being the only cook in a bustling restaurant means little breaks and consistent exhaustion.

Tang still makes them dinner, most nights.  He tries a new recipe each day, because why not?  Pigsy takes to each one like a food critic, and his descriptions have Tang in stitches every time—

“I never thought you could turn broccoli into soup.”

“Okay, so I cooked it too long!”

“You liquified a vegetable!  Without blending!  That’s like...did you use magic on this?  Tang, did you use magic on this.”

—He’s not a very good cook, yet, but Pigsy eats anything he makes anyway.

Today, Pigsy is already tired, and he clearly doesn’t have the energy to deal with an annoying customer.

He has to anyways.

“This isn’t what I ordered last time!  I ordered your original noodle bowl two weeks ago, and it tasted far better than this!” The irate woman slams her empty bowl on the counter.

Tang wonders if she understands the irony of complaining about a meal she finished.

“Ma’am, I make every bowl of noodles the same.  I’m the only cook here.  You either ordered somethin’ else, or your taste buds changed in two weeks.” Pigsy isn’t polite to customers like these, but Tang has to commend him for holding back, for still calling her ‘Ma’am’.  Tang has a few different names he’d call her.

“I know what I ordered, and my tastebuds didn’t change.  You clearly made it wrong!  I demand a refund immediately!” She shouts in his face.

Pigsy goes from pink to red.  “Look, lady, you finished your meal.  I ain’t giving you back the money for shit you ate.” He spits, and she leans back, aghast.

“The nerve!” She leans back, aghast.  “I don’t know what I expected from a pig—” 

She freezes as a pair of chopsticks sticks its way between the two angry faces.

“Excuse me,” Tang starts.  

His glasses flash, and he doesn’t bother standing.  His arm divides the space, as he leans back in his chair with a bowl in his free hand.  He pushes her back, ignores the look of confusion on Pigsy’s face.  “I suggest you get over yourself.  This behavior certainly isn’t doing anything for your looks.”

The woman leans back, crosses her arms.

“And you are?” She hisses.

“I’m his partner,” Tang says, and surprises himself with how easily the title falls out of his mouth.  “And you don’t get to talk to him that way.  If anyone is acting in poor taste, it’s you.”

Pigsy’s face is slack, his eyes are wide, and the red of anger on his face has given way to the dusty rose Tang has come to expect as Pigsy’s blush.

The woman opens her mouth, finger raised.  Tang raises his eyebrow in waiting.  But then she huffs, turns on her heel, and leaves.

Tang doesn’t give her a second thought, turning back to his own bowl of noodles—which have tasted the same in the two years he’s been eating here, so she’s full of it, clearly—before glancing over at Pigsy, who is staring at him with eyes full of something.

He has never seen Pigsy’s eyes shine like that before.

His face warms, and he buries it in his scarf and bowl.  Pigsy smiles, and turns back to work.

That night, they’re sitting on the couch after eating another concoction that could barely be called food— “You’re getting better at this.”  “You don’t have to lie to me.”  “Bold of you to assume I would spare your feelings when it comes to your cooking skills.”—and Pigsy’s hand slides away from his lap and rests on top of Tang’s.  Casual.

“My partner, huh?” Pigsy says over the buzz of the television.  

Tang flushes. “It seemed an appropriate word to use.”

“Sure.”

Pigsy’s voice holds a laugh, and Tang could leave it here, he could.   It would be far too easy to settle, to let it fall complacent.

But Tang has let the ocean lap at his heels, and now all he wants to do is dive.

“Hey,” he turns Pigsy’s face towards his, and—

Pigsy’s lips are warm.

Pigsy’s eyes are blown wide, and Tang closes his quickly, worried about the response, worried about Pigsy’s reaction.

Dimly, in the back of his head, he thinks ‘It’s the best he’s ever tasted’ and he has to squash the laugh that bubbles up his throat, because it isn’t appropriate right now.  Pigsy's snout practically crushes his nose, and the sharp hairs on his face prickle Tang's skin. 

He breaks away.  Pigsy’s smile is blinding, a rare event.  His face is flushed, both of them are flushed and Tang fidgets with his glasses.  There’s a beat of silence, as they stare at each other, before they both turn back to the TV to avoid the ever so awkward eye contact.

They watch whatever’s on, for a minute of crushing silence.

“Alright,” Pigsy finally sighs, long sufferingly fond, and he leans against Tang as if tang were his rock.  The ocean crashes against the sea, and the rock stays steady.  “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Tang inclines his head so it’s resting on top of Pigsy’s.  The rock erodes, and becomes something new.  Moves with the ocean, given enough time.

“Where else would I get free food?”

Pigsy laughs.

#lego monkie kid #freenoodleshipping #Tang #Pigsy #kitkat1003 #monkie kid tang #monkie kid pigsy

[lettrespromises]

la querelle des coeurs. - kuroo, atsumu, daichi.

@luveranime​ sent a letter : ❝ Me again lmao 😂 could you do one where kuroo, atsumu and daichi’s s/o has a ex best friend and they try to take their bf away from their s/o but then their s/o like angrily lashes out? Then like a cute fluffy ending :) ❞

author’s letter : ❝ aaaaa, it’s always pleasure to see you in my inbox!! thank you so much for trusting me with all your prompts, it means the world. ooooh, i love myself some angst to fluff especially with kuroo. i hope you’ll enjoy your promised letter!

sealed with a kiss. sincerely yours, nikki. ❞

genre : kinda fluff, kinda angst. warnings : cursing, toxic friendship.

Now, now, now, Kuroo like the gorgeous scorpio he is has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to lies, basically, you could consider him as a human lie detector. This talent of his extends to being able to discern people’s true nature- given that he is someone who doesn’t trust people easily, he’s even more careful around people he doesn’t deem as trustworthy.

Truth be told, he doesn’t come as a surprise to him when you tell him that you had a succession of arguments with your best friend, to the point where you felt obligated to cut ties with them. 

You can tell from miles away that the sentence “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so, kitten.” is burning the tip of his tongue, begging him to be set free so he could rub his pseudo sixth sense in your face.

From now on, Kuroo morphs into ‘super protective mode’, he just wants to protect you from any emotional harm, he knows how vicious your former best friend is, after all, he always knew.

He will walk with you everywhere, cradle you into his embrace if you feel the need to shed a couple of tears- he picks up the shattered pieces of your broken self and glues them one by one and seals them with a kiss or a heartfelt compliment.

After several days, Kuroo’s efforts and dedication to make you feel better finally sets in. Your introspection sunk in and you feel the aftereffects bloom- you feel fearless, powerful, and you came to agree with yourself on stating that you are indeed better off alone.

The plot twists in the hallways of your school- your arm is wrapped around Kuroo’s, just the way you like it. His orbs never leave you frame and anyone could tell how the gleam in his eyes reflect his love and adoration for you. 

Needless to say, his favorite time of the day was when he could have lunch with you and listen to your ramblings while observing your divine traits. However, being academically smart doesn’t prevent him from being a airhead at times : “Kitten, I totally forgot to grab myself something to drink. Will you wait for me at our spot? I’ll be quick.” “You already know where to find me then, Tetsu.”

And with that, he leaves you in the middle of the hall (but not before planting a peck on your forehead.) On his way to the vending machine, he sees none other than your former best-friend, body leaning onto said vending machine, as if they were waiting for him to come out after witnessing your discussion.

The plain expression plastered upon Kuroo’s facial expression speaks louder than a thousand words revolving around the lexical field of anger. Nonetheless, he tells himself that if he ignores them, then there will be no harm done, unless...

“Hey there, Kuroo. I knew you’d miss me! Don’t worry, baby, I missed you just as much.”

The person you once called your best friend orientates their body in a strategic way so they’re closer to Kuroo, their whole body facing him. Of course, he didn’t miss the poor attempts to get him to pay attention to them. Their whole body language screamed ‘acknowledge me.’

Kuroo remained stoic and pushed the coins inside the vending machine instead. This lack of attention only emphasized their anger and in return, their level of patience diminished gradually. But they had another ace hidden in their sleeve, and this time, attitude matched their actions- your former best friend grabbed the hem of Kuroo’s collar while their other hand was planted at the back of his neck to force him to look on what they deemed as the only important person here.

“Kuroo, baby, I’m so glad you came to see me, because let’s face it : you’re only here because you know you’d see me here. Have you finally realized that Y/N was not good enough for you? You want a real significant other, don’t you?”

If hearing the sound of their voice was disgusting enough, imagine how filthy Kuroo felt when he sensed a foreign body throw themselves on him- his skin was burning under the poisoning touch of your former best friend. 

Now, now. The ‘you’ topic was quite the sensitive one to Kuroo, given that he would and could put anyone in their place if he happened to hear a ill word about you. “I’m going to say this once : don’t play a game you can’t win so don’t say another thing about Y/N.” 

Oh, but would this stop them? Absolutely not. Their hand travelled from the back of their neck to the muscular reliefs on his chest, an area only you had the luxury you to touch and worship. “Don’t be like that, Kuroo. I know I can touch you, love you and at least I won’t fake it like Y/N does.” they concluded their sentence with a wink sent his way and Kuroo could already feel the taste of vomit invading his tastebud. 

In one sharp motion, he grabbed their wrist and yanked himself free of their intoxicating clutch. Just his luck, he thought, while your former best friend cursed silently under their breath as they saw you arrive.

“Tetsu, are you okay? What’s taking you so long?”

Oh and here it was, the pure grin which radiated nothing but pure mischief- your presence signed the end and what a beautiful ending it was for him. “Maybe you should ask them, kitten. They were rambling about how I should date them instead of you. Can you believe that bullshit?”

Your eyes darted onto a familiar frame, but just by glancing at them, you felt all the inner rage overwhelm you, including all the pain you had to go through. It was like facing your own nightmare, but you’ve never been alone to fight your battles- Kuroo has always been there by your side.

“You said what now?”

Your stare emanated nothing but pure and intense rage, your whole body language testified of your inner envy to make them choke on their own words.

“I said-...”

“If you think for a single second I’m going to let you talk, you’re dead wrong. You’ve been feeding me enough lies during all this time we were ‘friends’, and now, you’re throwing yourself on my man? You really have nothing for you, do you now? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go grab lunch with my boyfriend. I’m not sure you’ve ever heard of him but his name is Kuroo Testurou, you know, the man you’ll never get?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but to let a snicker break free from his lips, this scene was wonderful to watch. An immense wave of pride washed over him, and it struck him again, he realized for the umpteenth time how lucky he was to share his life with you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you close to his side and delivered a peck full of love upon the flesh of your cheek. “I didn’t know you had all of this hidden in you, kitten. Not gonna lie, it’s kinda hot.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes and punched his arm as his words connected with your eardrums, “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Don’t get it twisted, kitten, I’m lucky one here.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

It’s safe to say that Atsumu does have a reputation that follows him around, he his the local heartthrob of his school and he secretly takes pride in that. But nothing fills his heart with pride more than being able to call you his.

Being Atsumu’s girlfriend, you are indirectly exposed to threats, insults and other acerbic remarks coming from his fangirls. Sometimes these attacks are direct like dirty talks behind your back when you’re holding his hand in the middle of the halls, and other times, it’s more subtle and the perfect example of that is how the person you used to call your best friend took advantage of your relationship status to get closer to Atsumu.

They made it clear and had no shame hiding behind their shameful shenanigans, “Did you really think I was talking to you for your personality? Get real, Y/N, I don’t care about you. I only care about your man.”

These subtle shenanigans hurt the most because they were the most vicious and purposefully hurtful, and the worst part was that they had somehow managed to become friends with Atsumu. Emphasis on the word ‘somehow.’

As per usual after school, both you and Atsumu could be found at the gym, and oh boy, did he love being able to see you everyday- not only at school but also at the gym as you were the manager of the volleyball team.

However, this time, you had quite the surprise when you entered the gym. Kita had asked all the players to gather up as he explained them the new change amongst the team : “Considering that the nationals are around the corner, the coach and I stated that it was necessary for us to hire a new manager in order for Y/N not to feel overwhelmed. Please welcome your new manager and take good care of them.” 

As his words echoed in the gymnasium, you felt your stomach sink to your heels, your mouth was set agape under the overwhelming feeling of pure disgust. Not them, out of all people. Hell, even Atsumu’s worst fangirl sounded like a better idea right now.

Of course you couldn’t blame Kita for choosing your former best friend as the new manager, but the glance Atsumu threw your way testified of how much he knew this situation was going to eat you up alive. 

After the captain dismissed everyone, Atsumu wasted no time and ran up to you, he felt the need to reassure you and make you feel at ease despite the venomous presence of your former best friend.

“Cheer up, baby, ya’ know I’m here, right? This pig isn’t gonna’ get a piece of me. Now, be a doll and gimme’ a kiss.” 

Classic Atsumu right here, but who were you to deny such a sweet request? So you did as told, and planted a kiss on his plump lips. And that’s when you could pinpoint the precise moment when your former best friend had fallen right into Atsumu’s trap.

“As your new manager, I have to say that it’s not very professional to kiss your significant other on the court. But, I mean, what else did I expect coming from Y/N?” 

Your boyfriend’s arm was protectively wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer. The root of each of his action was to protect you from the incoherent and toxic words dropping from their lips. But deep down, he knew better than to mess with you, especially when the whole team was looking at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Did you mean do this?”

There you went again, planting yet another kiss upon Atsumu’s lips who couldn’t help but grin at the taunting nature of your actions. Once you broke the kiss, you could feel the hot breaths of your boyfriend crashing upon your skin “That’s my girl.”

Your former best friend looked around in despair, her eyes scanned the room to seek for help, to back up her actions. Osamu let a small laugh fall free from his lips, Suna rolled his eyes so hard you thought they were going to get stuck at the back of his head, and Kita, out of all people, let out a desperate sigh. “As the captain of the team, I must inform you that it is my duty to let you know that you cannot dictate your way here, and you cannot display a clear lack of respect to Y/N.”

This time, it was their time to be dumbfounded and left in the middle of the gymnasium with their mouth set agape in pure surprise. The silence, although it was broken by a few playful laughs, was agonizing to them. 

“C’mon, new manager, tell ‘em why ya’ chose to come here.” Atsumu taunted, the smirk plastered upon his face as wide as ever, but he only found silence as an answer.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell the rest of the team? Alright then. Maybe you should tell them how you only joined our team to flirt with Atsumu knowing very well that we’re dating, what kind of person that makes you, mh?” Each word pronounced was embedded with venom of your own, and deep down, exposing the true nature of your former best friend brought some sense of satisfaction. And thus you began reading out loud each text they had sent you, justifying their one-sided reason to join the team, only to flirt with Atsumu.

“Yeah, ya’ ain’t slick! Sorry to break it to ya’ but I ain’t into snakes.” Atsumu continued, sticking his tongue out before the still dumbfounded personification of a snake.

Pure embarrassment consumed them, the more they were staying amongst the deafening silence of their sour loss, the more they felt vulnerable and the more they realized they lost their own game. The stares of the whole team became agonizing, so agonizing that they felt obligated to leave the gym, head hung low in defeat.

“Byeee! Ya’ won’t be missed!” Your boyfriend concluded his sentence by imitating the hissing sounds of snakes, and you wondered why you were dating a man-child. Nonetheless, knowing very well he couldn’t get his hands off of you and craved for a physical touch at all times, he pressed his lips against yours once more. “I ain’t into snakes but ya’ could s-s-s-s-slide your way into my heart, baby.” and with that, Osamu hit the back of his twin’s head with a volleyball.

Maybe he deserved that.

Being the unofficial dad of the Karasuno volleyball team came with its perks, one of them was the ability to be able to discern if the people you were hanging with genuinely cared about you or not, you liked to joke around and call this his “secret dad weapon.”

Much like Kuroo, he was not one bit surprised when you told him that you had to put your friendship to an end with your former best friend. Of course, he was not angry, but in typical dad fashion, he adorned the oh so famous disappointed dad expression on his facial structure.

He told you not to overthink it, and to focus on the other friendly presences in your life such as the volleyball team or Kiyoko and Yachi, mainly because he knew he could trust them with his eyes closed, but also because he knew he would be able to make them pay if they were to hurt you.

When you started dating Daichi, you grew the habit to join him outside the gymnasium after his training, a bottle of water in your hand in case he overworked himself, which he always did. 

This time, and much to your surprise, you found a note near the doorframe leading to the gymnasium. And if you were careful enough, the slight details and the precise calligraphy hinted that said note was in fact a love note. 

You found it rather amusing at first, perhaps it was a letter dedicated to Kiyoko because this woman was the living and breathing proof that God was indeed a woman. 

But everyday, you would find yet another letter, still carefully written and decorated leaning against the doorframe. This time, however, a calligraphic ‘D.S’ framed the front of the letter. You couldn’t help but let your stare roam over the fine print of calligraphy over and over again. 

As the saying goes ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you were no exception to that common phrase. You meticulously took the letter and unfolded it- it was so beautifully written, the details were placed strategically. It was a proof of pure love in the form of a letter. 

Then, you began reading it :  “Dear Daichi,  Words cannot do justice of how much I love you. Everything about you fascinates me- from the way you spike the ball so roughly to the small smile on your face after scoring a point. If only I could tell you how much you mean to me. Don’t worry, Y/N won’t know a thing. Come to the gymnasium tomorrow at 5 if you wish, until then, accept all my love.”

You read the letter once, then twice, then an umpteenth time until the words were embedded in your brain. You thought it was just a prank, after all, Nishinoya and Tanaka were quite the pranksters amongst the team, but the handwriting was so delicate, too delicate to be theirs. 

You could feel salty pearls coming at the brim of your eyes until they fell onto the surface of the paper, resulting in the texture of the letter now being bloated under the wetness of your tears. 

You kept your discovery under silence, you trusted your boyfriend of course, but given the additional stress brought by the nationals, you refused to distract him from his goal.

But here you were, sharply there in front of the gym at five as indicated on the letter. However, Daichi hadn’t shown up like the anonymous lover requested, he was already stretching anyway. 

Knots started to form in your stomach as you wondered who the hell had the idea to write this love letter to him, after all, it’s not as if your relationship with Daichi was kept as a secret. 

And at 5:01 precisely, your orbs felt on the figure of your former best friend who had the most victorious grin plastered upon their face. Not only these letters were meant to be read by Daichi, but by you too, their main goal was to hurt you where it stung the most.

“What the hell are you doing here? Where you the one who wrote these letters?” You spat, waving the letters between your thumb and forefinger. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I know you love to make everything about yourself but I was expecting Daichi, not you.” Although they said they were sorry, there was not one ounce of genuine compassion in their voice.

Anger got the best of you resulting in the sudden apparition of veins on your neck as the volume of your voice only increased : “Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you that desperate? If you want a reply to your letter : Daichi doesn’t even know who you are.”

Your emotions controlled each one of your actions, including the severe tone of your voice. The ruckus made its way inside the walls of the gymnasium, until Daichi and Sugawara opened the door in order to find an answer as their interrogation : what was happening outside? 

Daichi’s eyes widened when he saw your frame shaking from anger, it was so unlike you, you matched him in a way because you were always so calm and collected. His mind raced as he wondered what was the cause of this sudden switch of behavior. 

He found the answer to his question pretty rapidly as his eyes darted towards your former best friend who was still wearing that victorious grin on their facial structure. “Y/N, love, what’s going on?” he asked as his hands were draped over your shoulders, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh, hey, Daichi! Have you read the letters I left for you? I bet Y/N never wrote this kind of letters for you.” It took inhuman strength for Daichi to ignore their taunt, instead, Sugawara sent a death glare their way : “Just leave, you have no business being here.”

Sugawara’s attempt at making them leave eventually succeeded after Coach Ukai’s sudden appearance before barking on your former best friend to “get the hell out of here” and “not disturb training anymore.”

Eventually, you were left alone with Daichi, your lungs felt constricted and you struggled to breathe. The aftermath of your outburst of anger made tears run down your cheeks as you sought for comfort inside of Daichi’s loving embrace. 

The pad of his thumb brushed your tears away, planting a series of kisses upon the surface of your forehead as a silent way to tell you that he was here and he was not going to let you go.

“Listen, love, I don’t know what happened and we will talk about it whenever you feel ready. But promise me one thing, never doubt of my love for you. Could you do that for me, Y/N?”

You simply nodded against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat kept the haunting thoughts in your head at bay. “I love you so much, Y/N, so, so much.” he whispered, concluding his sentence with a kiss left on your lips.

If only he knew how much you loved him. 

#daichi sawamura #daichi #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi headcanons #daichi headcanon #daichi hcs #kuroo x reader #kuroo testurou #kuroo #kuroo testurou x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo headcanon #kuroo hcs #atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu hcs #atsumu hc #astumu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

[this-writer-d]

(Kugasaki Nobara x Zenin Maki) I just need some kisses for these two because for some reasons their fanfics are scarce. Maybe a tutoring AU

aaaaah thank you!!! I have a new obsession. and you say they don't have many fics??? I may need to fix this 👀

kissed her and left her wanting more - read on AO3

Nobara was trying to concentrate, she truly was. But it was difficult to focus on anything with Maki sitting so close to her, their knees near brushing. Maki was always warm, and her heat seeped into Nobara’s side. She also smelled exceptionally nice—always did—and Nobara had to bite down on the thoughtless urge to just blurt that out. Because that was a totally not creepy thing to say to someone who wasn’t even really her friend.

They weren’t necessarily just acquaintances either. They shared some college classes, and somehow Maki had been talked into tutoring her for one of their shared classes—per Itadori’s earnest request. Maki always sat far in front, and Nobara had mostly just stared at the back of her head. She couldn’t deny it—she had a gigantic crush on her, but she wasn’t really inclined to act on it.

Though she desperately wanted to. It was embarrassing enough that she needed someone to goddamn tutor her, in college. It was even more embarrassing that Itadori had just blurted out how terribly she was failing her class, and the judgmental look Maki had sent her in response. It was like Maki was only doing this out of pity, but Nobara swallowed her pride. Because she got to sit this close to Maki, smelling her clean, enticing scent, and looking at the strong line of her jaw and the tantalizing softness of her lips.

Stop staring at her lips, dipshit, she chastised herself. If she notices you’re lusting after her, this deal’s done.

“Are you listening to me?” Maki asked her, tilting her head slightly to look over at Nobara.

God, that angle... the way her eyes peered over the rim of her glasses... Nobara wanted to swoon. She could feel the warm blush working its way up her neck, but she absolutely refused to let it show—as if she somehow controlled her body’s natural functions.

“Of course I am,” she responded curtly, the mild annoyance in her tone not feigned.

“So what is the solution to this equation?”

Nobara leaned forward to stare at the sheet of paper in front of them, but just looking at the numbers made her eyes hurt. She grinded her teeth together and squinted, trying to remember what Maki had just been explaining to her as she’d scribbled out the equation and the method to solving it. But unfortunately, her head was only filled with gay thoughts.

Nobara groaned and slumped down into her seat, scowling. “Okay, fine. I wasn’t listening.”

Maki’s sharp eyes flicked away and she started to collect her books and things. “We’ll try again next week,” she said flatly.

Nobara expected a bit more emotion from her—annoyance, maybe even anger. Not just this indifference, and it made her feel even more frustrated.

“Why are you even helping me?” she blurted out before she could help it.

Maki turned to her, her expression almost carefully neutral. “Because Itadori bribed me.”

“Wow. And here I thought maybe you cared about my academic career.”

Maki snorted. “I’m honestly astonished you made it into college at all.”

Had it been anyone else saying that, Nobara would have bitten their damn head off. But this was the closest thing the two of them had ever gotten to a conversation beyond goddamn maths. Maki had snorted—and gods if she hadn’t made it attractive—and she was now looking mildly amused. Her lifted brow was in waiting, and Nobara was tempted to act like she was overly offended. She decided otherwise.

“Honestly? Me too,” she admitted.

Maki let out a huff of a laugh, and then they were out their seats and winding through the bookshelves of their campus library. This was their fourth week of tutoring, and in all that time they hadn’t really talked about anything but school. Nobara wanted to know everything about her. She was so aloof and mysterious, and though there were some rumours about her on campus, she was mostly an empty book. Itadori was the only one that just approached her with wild abandon, but everyone else kept their distance. She was intimidating, just from her posture and the fierceness in her eyes.

Nobara could admit that Maki just excluded extreme amounts of BDE and it was extremely attractive. She would go to the grave with this knowledge, but she really loved a woman who could knock her out cold with one move. Maki had the vibe that she could do exactly that. But Nobara wasn’t even sure if Maki did that sort of thing: knocking people around. She certainly had an air about her, and Nobara noticed the way she carefully analysed her surroundings as though waiting for an attack. But otherwise, she seemed like the average student. Besides how hot she was, and how smart.

As they walked across the campus to the parking lot, Nobara let out a frustrated sigh. This clearly wasn’t working. Maybe she should just drop out and find a job back home. She knew her dad’s construction company would hire her on. She’d helped out enough times growing up that his whole crew already considered her one of them, and she found a strange sort of satisfaction in the manual labour. Nothing felt better than screaming muscles and sweat slicking her skin after hammering away and lugging heavy construction materials around all day.

They didn’t speak as they walked, and Nobara snuck a look at her companion. Maki just stared forward, her face blank, their surroundings reflecting in the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Yeah, she was just wasting Maki’s time. She felt guilty, and then angry, and made her decision.

“Maki?”

Maki didn’t look at her. “Yes?”

Nobara opened her mouth to say it. To say, you don’t have to tutor me anymore, but a shiver rocked down her spine and her hackles rose. She whipped her head up and spotted them a second before Maki did. Nobara’s stomach dropped and her heartbeat kicked up speed. Adrenaline immediately flooded her system.

“I think you should turn and head back to the library,” she told Maki, keeping her eyes on the group of guys walking straight for them.

The two of them stopped walking, but Maki remained frozen. She stared at the boys, eyes narrowed in the way Nobara knew meant that she was taking in every morsel of detail she could. She wondered what Maki was thinking, what she was assuming about this situation.

Nobara didn’t have time to worry about her. She bent her knees and clenched her fists, getting into a defensive position. A wicked grin split across her face.

“You should go now,” Nobara told Maki again, “because I’m about to kick some ass and I really don’t want to drag you into it.”

Maki shot her a look, her eyes mildly widened. She looked surprised, then delighted. Her expression turned almost sultry, and then she chucked her bag onto the grass beside the concrete pathway. Nobara was so bewildered that she dropped her fists.

The guys were nearly atop them.

“I can’t leave a girl to fight a whole group on her own,” Maki said to her. She didn’t raise her fists or shift her position, but the air around them instantly changed. The usual focus in Maki’s eyes sharpened to razors. Nobara had never seen her like this before, and it was amazing.

“What?” she blurted.

She was too focused on Maki’s face that she didn’t realize the guys had reached them and the fight had in fact already begun. One of them swung a first at her undefended face, but before the hit could connect Maki lashed out so quickly that if Nobara had blinked right then, she would have missed it.

Maki kicked the guy square in the face, knocking him out cold and sending him flying. When she set her feet back down, she changed her stance, balancing her weight correctly and lifting her fists. A fighter’s stance that only came from years of training.

Nobara didn’t have time to ask any questions. The other guys, infuriated that their leader had been K.O’d in one shot, like the last time they’d tried to pick a fight with Nobara, attacked. It was a whirlwind of violence and aggression.

Adrenalin and delight made Nobara’s skin tingle. Her breathing quickly turned haggard and sweat slid down her temples, but she was having an absolute blast. Maki fought exceptionally at her side, and they slipped into a form of teamwork she had never experienced before. They sensed each other’s intentions with ease, and Nobara knew when to assist without Maki even needing to speak.

The fight was over in minutes, but it felt like it had gone on for much longer.

All seven boys were down, most knocked out, others nursing bloody faces and nearly broken fingers. Those that could stand got up and fled quickly, abandoning their friends without a care.

Blood trickled from Nobara’s left nostril, but otherwise she was unharmed. Maki didn’t have a single scratch on her, and despite the sweat dotted on her forehead and her glasses cracked on the ground, there was no sign that she had just took on an entire gang of boys with her bare hands and won.

“Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?” Nobara gasped at her.

Maki didn’t answer, instead she gently took Nobara’s chin between her fingers and tilted her face to the side. There was concern on her usually blank face. “He got you in the nose,” she said.

“Yeah. It was a lucky shot.”

“It was. I let him get past me, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Nobara laughed. Her skin was overheated, especially since Maki was actually touching her. She felt like her heart was about to tear out of her chest and run away. She felt more excited now than even before during the fight. The adrenaline was still coursing through her, but she knew she was heading for a crash soon.

“Do you feel okay?” Maki said, instead of acknowledging her response.

Nobara scowled. “Maki, you’re terrible at answering questions with a question.”

“So I’ve been told. So, does your head hurt?” She slid her other fingers across Nobara’s nose, gently prodding and testing the area. It didn’t hurt all that bad, so Nobara didn’t even flinch. “Doesn’t seem broken.”

“Nah, he didn’t hit that hard. I’ve had worse. Bleeding’s already stopped.”

Maki nodded. “I see. Good.”

“And my head doesn’t hurt. I’ve been roughed up enough that it takes way more than that to get me down.”

Maki’s lips twitched. Was she almost smiling?

“I’m not surprised that you’re the brawling type.”

“Hell yeah.” Nobara grinned smugly and flexed her bicep. She was proud of the thick muscle, especially when Maki’s eyes lingered there, on the way her shirt strained over her flexed muscle.

She wondered if Maki was in shape. She looked like she did a lot of physical activity. Even after all that fighting, she wasn’t out of shape. Didn’t look tired.

“You were insanely hot,” Nobara blurted. The adrenalin crash was starting to hit her, and her mouth loosened.

Maki tilted her head slightly. She was still gripping Nobara’s chin, but let her fingers trail away, gently brushing against her cheek before she withdrew. “Are you attracted to strong women?”

The question would have surprised her, maybe flustered her, but Nobara found she no longer cared.

“Usually, but also just you.”

Somehow, Maki was completely unsurprised. “I can appreciate a woman that that can hold her own.”

Was that...?

“Are you...?”

Maki started forward, and Nobara backed up out of instinct. Her back hit a nearby tree, and then Maki was before her, a hand pressed to the hard bark of the tree beside Nobara’s head. They were so close that Maki’s scent wrapped around her, tinged with their sweat—which wasn’t an unappealing addition. Was just everything about Maki hot?

“I noticed that you were too busy staring at me to focus on the studying.”

Nobara swallowed. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Maki’s eyes flicked down to her lips, and bravado flooded Nobara’s system. She shakily grabbed the front of Maki’s shirt and then tugged her in, slowly enough that she could be pushed away easily. Maki didn’t do anything but lean in as she was pulled, and then their lips met.

Her lips were softer than Nobara had even imaged, and the kiss was hot and hard from the very first second. Maki’s body pressed against hers, making her back dig into the rough bark, but she didn’t care.

Maki was kissing her.

Nobara gasped softly against her lips, and then groaned when Nobara’s tongue slid into her mouth and against her own. The taste of her was intoxicating, as well as the heat of her mouth, her tongue. Heat shot through Nobara’s entire body. She tangled her fingers in Maki’s silky dark hair, and Maki’s strong fingers grabbed at her hips, pulling them even closer together.

When they pulled away, they were both panting, faces flushed. Maki smirked at her, and the sight made Nobara’s knees weak.

“See you next week for our usual,” Maki purred. She dipped in for one more kiss, and then she pulled away entirely, grabbed her broken glasses and her bag and walked off towards her car.

Nobara slid down the tree and plopped down onto the grass. Her lips tingled and her head spun, and the spinning had nothing to do with the fist to the face from earlier.

“What in the hell—”

Had Maki really just kissed the life out of her and then walked away? Nobara couldn’t believe it, but it also lit a fire in her. This was a game, now. A challenge. A delicious, tantalizing challenge. She could only image the methods Maki would use now to get her to focus, to actually study.

Nobara stood and dusted herself off. Once she collected her things and her wits, she followed after Maki’s shadow towards the parking lot.

Her heart was still hammering away, and her lips would not stop tingling.

Nobara grinned viciously to herself, uncaring at the mortified glances other students sent her way. Oh, she was going to make Maki pay.

#nobamaki #maki x nobara #jujutsu #danijaynel

[tinyboxxtink]

Build Me Up Buttercup *Part 5*

WARNING: This chapter contains mention of sexual assault, please read at your own discretion. Also, I’m sorry these last two chapters have been kind of dark but next chapter will be super fluff I promise!

If you need to catch up:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Tag List: @wanniiieeee

....And you just ran out?”

Your roommate’s judgement came through loud and clear, even through the phone.

“Yes! What the hell was I supposed to do?!” You tried defending your actions. You called them to feel better, not worse.

“Well, first of all you shouldn’t have LIED,” They kept their snarky tone.

“I didn’t LIE….per say,” You paced back and forth, twirling your hair in your fingers nervously. The silence after your statement was like you could SEE their faces just giving you “that” look.

“Oh okay what was I supposed to say? ‘Oh hey yeah you’re right Fin, I was an absolute party wreck until I couldn’t be anymore’?”

“I mean I don’t--” You heard footsteps coming up behind you, so you swung your phone to your side, cutting off their sentence.

You turned to see Rafael standing there, that permanent concerned look for you pasted on his face.

“Hey...are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just needed some air,” You tried your best to stay calm and nonchalant.

“Are you sure? Because you--” He started to say something but you quickly interjected.

“Actually you know what Barba I’m kind of on the phone right now, can I meet you back inside?” You motioned with your phone, kicking yourself for being cold to him right now but you couldn’t deal with anything else at the moment.

“I...uh...yeah, sure,” He shook his head with an awkward smile, and walked back inside. Relieved, you put the phone back up to your ear.

“Aww, how cute. Barba cares!” your BFF’s voice cooed through the speaker.

“Yeah, in like a ‘dad caring’ kind of way,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oooof, I wouldn’t start throwing that term around, we might have to start talking about ‘daddy issues’, Y/N,” they giggled.

“SERIOUSLY?” You practically screeched into the phone, thanking every god you could think of that Rafael had gone inside before that comment.

“I’m just sayin! I’m ALSO saying that you need to go back in there and tell your squad the truth,” they returned to a very serious tone.

“Yeah I guess…” You sighed, knowing they were right.

“And I’m sorry I can’t be there with you holding your hand while you do it babe. But…”

“But what?”

“But maybe Rafael can?”

“Jesus, can you please be serious right now?”

“I am being serious! You just told me he helped you calm down earlier, and that wasn’t even half traumatic as this is gonna be,” They insisted.

“I don’t….how…?” Your face scrunched up trying to think of NON creepy ways you'd ask for someone's hand.

“Whatever, do what you want; But I do suggest telling them. Clearly you're not going to be able to keep this under wraps, and I doubt you want to keep freaking out on your co-workers. Trust them, trust RAFAEL,”

You sighed again, you knew they were right. Olivia said it herself, it was important to have a squad you trusted.

“Alright I’ll call you later,”

“You better!”

You took a deep breath and walked back into the bar, your hands shaking as you reached your booth. The group all started to speak, but you put your hand up.

“No just-- Let me talk. Fin, I am so sorry,” You addressed Fin, who shook his head in a “don't worry about it” manner.

“No, I really am. I’m sorry I freaked out on you and I’m sorry...I lied. Kind of,” the squad again looked at you in total confusion.

“God….okay, how do I….? Um….”

You started trying to form sentences in your head, words jumbled around in your brain. You started to panic again, when you felt a hand grip yours under the table. You snapped your eyes open and looked next to you where Rafael had taken your hand. He gave a small, supportive smile making you suddenly feel at ease.

“Okay. So, like I said I was pretty much a ‘caged’ child. I was homeschooled, I didn’t have any friends, just academics. Being born a ‘prodigy’ sounds good on paper, but I just always felt like a show pony. Or an alien experiment. People were always coming by to check out the ‘genius 5 year old’ play Mozart, or ‘the brilliant 10 year old finish calculus problems in under 30 seconds’.”

You took a deep breath, watching their listening faces. Too much detail hon, get there faster.

“Um, anyway. I graduated ‘high school’ at fifteen years old. I had barely made it through puberty, and I was already done with my academic childhood. Obviously, I wanted to immediately enroll in college, if for no other reason than to get away from my insanely controlling parents. But big surprise, they had a problem with it. It took me a minute to convince them that it was the right next step, full ride scholarships to literally any school in the country helped. And I mean, ANY school. All the Ivy leagues sent out their top recruiters to speak with my parents about having the ‘prodigy’ attending their establishment.

So with that, I was able to convince my parents that I knew what was best for me. I told them I was smarter than them, so clearly I could parent myself better. And God help them, they believed me,” You had to pause again, tears catching your throat. Rafael gently started rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“So, I started at NYU that fall, just after my sixteenth birthday. Sixteen years old, the only child in a university full of adults,”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Sonny whispered to Amanda who nodded in agreement.

“So I got paired with this room mate Layla, who was the polar opposite of myself. She was gorgeous, totally socially gifted, but dumb as a rock. Her daddy had paid her way into the school,” you rolled your eyes just thinking about her.

“And truth be told I loved her at first, because she was the sweetest girl. My first ever real friend. She took me under her wing and gave me a complete makeover; socially and physically. I had NEVER had guys look at me the way they did after she helped me. It was....intoxicating.” You paused in shame, picking at your jacket.

“So, naturally, I wanted to hang out with my friend. My ONLY friend. And hanging out with her meant going to all the coolest parties, frats and sororities. I was SIXTEEN, I didn’t….I didn’t think,”  You bit your lip and stared at the floor for a moment before continuing.

“I lost my virginity at those parties,” you muttered quietly, and to your surprise the team started reacting.

“Wha-- Wait wait wait, guys that’s….that’s not even the bad part yet,” you gulped. Jesus the judgement was quickly getting real.

“Anyway I...was pretty much a huge party girl slut,” you shrugged. “I’d go and party, and hook up with random guys, and never thought twice about it because I thought ‘that’s what college girls do’,” You scoffed at your younger self for even having that notion. How could you be that smart and that stupid at the same time? It was baffling.

“And one night, it bit me in the ass,” You sighed, here comes the hard part.

“I don’t...I usually got so wasted that I didn’t CARE who I was having sex with and most of the time never remembered WHO it was anyway but-- but I’m pretty sure that night I didn’t want to,” You breathed out and looked up, willing the tears on the rims of your eyes to go back in where they came from. Rafael’s hand gripped yours tighter, making you feel safe.

“But it is what it is, this guy did what he did and left me on the floor in a frat house,” You scoffed again, this time tears dripping down your face. You couldn’t believe there was a time that you had been that pathetic, to just be left laying on the floor like a blow up doll.

“I guess Layla found me and took me home, because I woke up in my own bed. But I had bruises and hickeys ALL over my body, and just….brutal stuff,” You trailed off while you picked at your food, not wanting to go into any more detail.

Suddenly, as if turning on a light switch, your entire demeanor snapped back into ‘normal mode’, you wiped the stray tears away and cleared your throat. You were

“AHEM So...anyway, after….that, I told Layla that I couldn’t hang out with her anymore if that’s all we were going to do, and she understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood. The next semester I got a new roommate who was pretty much like myself, boring and socially inept, so I went back to the thing I knew best-- academics. I changed my major from biochemical engineering to law, because I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I went through without a voice. And after that, and a WHOLE lotta therapy, I just pushed that whole semester I lost deep, DEEP down, you know like a totally healthy person,” You tried playing it off with a laugh, but they weren’t amused.

“But...just thinking about Mary Fahey,” you sighed. “That girl had everything going for her, she was probably really smart and had a whole life ahead of her. She made the bad decision ONCE, to go to a frat party and she’s DEAD. Meanwhile, I was a stupid slut for a whole semester and the worst I got was bruised up and a pregnancy scare.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” Amanda gave you a look.

“What? That I should have been killed? Well why not? Why HER?” You protested, sipping your hurricane. It was unsettling to the squad how little you seemed to care about yourself.

“....I knew there was more to it in the bathroom,” you heard Rafael’s soft voice beside you.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t know how to tell you,” You looked at him with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I was...trashy,”

“Ok now hold up” Fin interrupted.

“First of all, you need to stop throwing words like ‘slut’ and ‘trash’ around, especially about yourself, Y/N,” he took your hand.

“You said it yourself, people make mistakes. Hell if I worried about the amount of dumb shit I did when I was a kid I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning,”

You had to break into a small sad smile after he said that, nodding your head in an understanding manner.

“And whether or not it was a one time thing or a ‘phase’, no one ever deserves to be assaulted for overdoing it at a party, or anywhere else,” Olivia chimed in. “EVER.”

“Exactly what the Sarge said. Assault is NEVER ok, in ANY circumstance. Even when you think you were ‘slutty’ by sleeping around, those guys are accountable too.” Sonny added. “Taking advantage of an inebriated woman is not okay,”

“AND it was statutory!” Rafael finally spoke up, his fists clenched. It was as if it had taken this entire time for him to fully process your story, and now that he did he was PISSED.

“Okay, Rafa, calm down,” Olivia placed a hand over his.

“No Liv, these guys should all be in prison for having sex with an incapacitated SIXTEEN YEAR OLD”

“Will you knock it off, counselor?” You hit his arm. “I didn’t tell you that story so you would go after a bunch of random idiots for something that happened over 10 years ago!”

“Well they should pay!” Rafael yelled again, but after you softly stroked his shoulder, he seemed to calm down.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rafa,” you warily threw out the pet name, happy when he responded with a small smile. “But I’m over it. Mostly. On days that aren’t like this,” you added with a joking laugh, trying to ease the tension.

“Well, I really appreciate you telling us the truth, N/A,” Olivia nodded at you, the others followed suit. 

You gave the first genuine smile since you came back in, looking at Rafael. He took your hand once again under the table, giving it three small squeezes. Before you knew what you were doing, your head was dropping onto his shoulder and you were scooting closer into him.

“Get a squad you can trust, right?”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #build me up buttercup

[willddheartt]

I  Kissed a Girl and I Liked It | JJ Maybank

Summary: She really isn’t as innocent as she looks. 

Warnings: Smut 

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: There is an alternate version of this without smut that you can find by clicking here

Masterlist 

You had known JJ for the majority of your life, first meeting him in school but being introduced as friends by Pope as you were with him on the math team. At first JJ assumed you were some kind of straight edge, like most people on academic teams, and so he kept his distance. Everyone in the group thought you were somewhat innocent and uncorrupted yet, and so they tried to protect you from JJ. That would have worked, if you were only friends for the short term, but once getting to them and their carefree nature you were hooked for the long term. Eventually you got closer to the boy everyone tried to keep you away from, from a distance you looked like polar opposites. 

JJ laid on your bed, waiting for you to get ready for the party you were meeting the Pogues at tonight. You had just perfected the winged eyeliner on each of your eyes, and were applying a light coat of chapstick to keep your lips from getting burnt.  “Hey, what flavour is it?” JJ asked, looking at you through your mirror  “Um,” You said, looking at the tube, “Cherry,” you replied, looking over your shoulder at him.  “Can I try it?” He asked  You stifled a laugh, “Have you never had chapstick before? Everyones tried cherry chapstick,”  “I’m a guy, alright, I don’t actively consume chapstick,” JJ defended, making you laugh  “You’ve never heard that Katy Perry song? I swear to god twelve year old me bought it just because of it,”  “What song?” JJ asked

You turned around on your heel, gasping, “Okay, you are seriously uncultured, how are we even friends,” You laughed. “I can’t believe you've never heard it, the one that goes ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it, the taste of her cherry chapstick,” You sang as you walked closer to where he was sitting on your bed “Can’t say I have,” He shook his head, chuckling at you “You’d love it,” You replied, putting on one more coat of the chapstick before handing it to him. 

Instead of taking the tube of chapstick from your hand, JJ pulled you in, pressing his lips to your for a moment, and then rubbing his together and licking his lips a few times. “That Katy Perry chick is really onto something here, this is good,” JJ said like nothing had happened.You ran your hand through your hair, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you tried to brush off what just happened. You knew the boy was confident but you never thought he was that confident, and talk about smooth. His lips were left slightly pink from the tint in the balm, as he continued to rub his lips together.  “Ye-yeah, that's why I was surprised you’ve never tried it,” You stuttered, JJ sat back on your bed, looking at you with a smirk, noticing your flustered state.

-

At the party your mind replayed JJ kissing you over and over, you tried talking to other guys to get your mind off it but your wandering eyes always found him over the shoulder of whoever you were talking to. Each time he noticed you staring he'd smirk and send a wink your way. You didn’t get wasted at the party, just keeping enough of a buzz that you could still have a good time. And tonight JJ seemed like a good time to you, thought of him had been playing in your head since you met him, but you would never think anything could have ever happened between the pair of you, keeping the really wild fantasies at bay, until his actions from earlier.  As you were getting ready to leave when JJ found you, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder as you were talking to Kie about your star signs. 

You let out a fake yawn, and gave Kiara a quick apology saying you were tired and thought the best thing was to leave and go home so you didn’t end up sleeping at a strangers house. Your parents were out of town for the weekend, they were off visiting your uncle for a few days, and wouldn't be back for another two days, in that time you had the place to yourself. JJ walked you back to your place, his hand or arm way always touching you as you walked down the street, coming to a stop in front of your front door. You already assumed JJ would stay over once you told him about your parents earlier in the day. He followed you inside and into your room, although you were alone out of habit you shut the door behind the two of you. Right after the door clicked shut JJ had you pinned against the door, his hot breath fanned over your neck sending a shiver down your spine as you waited for him to do something. 

“JJ are you going to do something?” You whispered after a second, the anticipation getting the better of you. Your words making him smirk before his lips attached to your neck. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin made a few whimpers falling off your lips. Your hands went to his hair, tugging as he nipped at your neck, pulling a few moans and whimpers from him before you pulled him up to your lips. His hands that once held your waist tight moved up over your thin tank top, one hand came up to cup your jaw and the other slid up your shirt, resting just below your bra.  You bit his bottom lip, sucking on it as you pulled back slightly, you took this moment as an opportunity to push him to sit down on your bed as you sat over his lap, straddling his hips. Your actions catch him off guard.  “I guess you’re not as innocent as I thought,” JJ chuckled, his hands going to rest on your ass.  You smiled, as you kissed down his neck, “Oh you have no idea,” “Is that a challenge?” “Only if you want it to be,” You smirked

In one quick movement, JJ grabbed your hips and flipped you over, pinning you down on your mattress. He gathered your wrists together in his hand, leaving defenceless  with your hands above your head. A whimper leaving your throat at his actions.  “Oh?” He mumbled, His free hand trailing up to cup your breast as he continued to kiss down the column of your throat and down until he came to the top of your tank top. Your hands tugged against his as you tried to get free to take your shirt off.  “I got it, princess,” he released your hands and tugged the shirt over your head, letting you do the same to him as well. 

His hands resting just above your shorts as he kissed down your neck and chest before stopping above your shorts. Though he had been undressing you with his eyes the entire night, he couldn't wait to have the real deal in front of him, but a bit of teasing never hurt anyone.  He came back up to attach your lips as his hands moved down your thighs, slowly crawling to your center, until finally making contact with your clothed heat. You ground your hips against his touch, getting some friction, JJ smirked at your movements, he already had you desperate under him. Pushing him back so you could stand up, discarding your shorts quickly as you both stood to face each other once again. 

“Someones eager,” JJ chuckled as your hands came to undo his belt and pull down his shorts. 

Without another word you dropped to your knees, palming his length through his boxers, coaxing a groan out from his throat. You smirked as you toyed with the elastic waistband, your fingers dipping just under the top while you placed kisses down his stomach. In one quick movement you pulled his boxers down, freeing his hardening member. You heard his breathing hitch as you began stroking him. Slowly, you began sucking the tip with hollowed cheeks, he let  out a breathy moan and his hand came to tangle in your hair, guiding you to start bobbing your head as he took control bucking his hips into your mouth.  “Fuck yeah,” JJ breathed out, his free hand running through his hair as he glanced down at you. “You look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock,” You moaned at his words sending vibrations to the tip.  His thrusts began to get sloppier, until he pulled out of your mouth, pulling you up from your knees.  You gave him a confused look, you hadn't done anything wrong.  “Don’t wanna cum yet,” He mumbled, kissing you hard as he pushed you to lay down on your bed again. 

Kissing your neck he brought his hand down to connect with your core. You could feel the wetness pooling there for him, knowing your panties had been soaked a while ago. JJ wasted no time in pushing the cloth aside and running his fingers up your slit, feeling your wetness coat his two fingers he immediately plunged two inside you and began to slowly pump them in and out. You moaned into his mouth before he pulled away, his tongue met your clit, flicking along the bundle of nerves before wrapping his lips around and sucking slightly. You moaned at his every move, every movement feeling like heaven on earth. Tangling your fingers in his blonde locks, tugging ever so slightly he groaned out, sending vibrations through your core. A knot building in your stomach caused you to pull him up from between your legs. “Not yet,” You breathed heavily, “I wanna come around your cock.” you said, your words almost making him come undone on the spot. 

You grabbed a condom from your bedside table, slipping it on his length before laying back, watching him line himself up at your entrance teasing slightly before slamming into you, the sudden action made a high pitched moan escape your lips. JJ set a steady pace that had you moaning every time his hips snapped back up inside you.  “F-faster,” You moaned, pulling him down by his shoulders. His face rested in the crook of your neck as he sped up his thrusts, letting out several low pitched grunts in your ear. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and moaning loudly when he began hitting that spot. One of his hands came down to rub figure eights on your clit as he continued to thrust into you, and you pulled his free hand up to your throat. He seemed to get what you wanted and squeezed slightly, not enough to restrict your air flow completely but enough to limit it and make breathing hard.  “JJ… ‘M close,” You moaned, the blonde boy nodded, his light locks fell over his forehead as he worked on getting you to your release before he reached his.  “Come for me, princess,” His words sent you over the edge. 

He helped the both of you ride out your highs before pulling out and discarding the condom, throwing it in the trash can by your bed. JJ pulled on his boxers and threw you his shirt before laying down with you in bed.  “You’re not as innocent as you seem,” He mumbled

#outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj outer banks imagine #jjobx #jj maybank smut #john b #john b outer banks #john b imagine #john b outer banks imaging #john b smut #pope outer banks #pope outer banks imagine #pope heyward #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward outer banks #pope heyward smut #kiara outer banks #kiara outer banks imagine #kiara carrera #kiara carrera imagine #kiara carrera outer banks #topper thorton #topper thorton smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut

[riversofmars]

Well whenever ya get to it.. maybe a fic where 13 comes across River in a bad mood because River and 12 had a fight? Lol, I suppose it could be the same fight that led to 12 sulking with otters and at the end 13 drops River off with 12 so they can make up.

Thank you! I really hope you like what I did with it! <3

Word count: 2600

Rating: G

Read on AO3 or below

A Stolen Moment

“Step away from the bars!“

Yaz remained seated in the poison cell, she wasn’t stupid enough to get in the guard’s way as they slid open the iron bars.

“You know you’re really going to regret this. I was going to let you live once I get out of here but now, I’ll make sure I kill you first.“ A woman was shoved into the cell who regarded the guard with a threatening glance. The guard, however, just laughed at her threat and locked the door again. “Mark my words!“ She called after him but didn’t get a response. “Well, that’s just rude.“ The woman huffed and had a look around the cell. It was pretty cramped, twelve prisoners last time Yaz had counted. “You lot seem like a whole lot of fun.“ The new arrival stated as everyone carried on waiting in silence. When she didn’t get a response, she turned back to examine the lock. Yaz watched with mild interest, though she couldn’t make out much, the woman’s impressive curls were blocking her view.

“We’ve all tried, it’s really not that easy…“ Yaz spoke up at last, drawing her attention.

“Well, you could say I have some experience with being locked up. A prison has not been invented that can hold me for any length of time.“ The woman gave Yaz a confident wink. “Now, if only I had my trowel…“

“You want to dig your way out of here?“ Yaz frowned confused. The cell was solid rock all the way around.

“It does more than just dig.“ The woman replied in an off-hand sort of way.

“Well, I’m waiting for a friend of mine who will break me out very soon, if you just hang tight, I’m sure she will be here in no time.“ Yaz revealed as she watched her continue to fiddle with the lock. If she carried on, the guards might come back and make things more difficult for the Doctor once she got here, so she thought it best to stop her.

“Is that so?“ The woman looked around, raising her eyebrows at her.

“Yes and if you try and break out now, you’ll end up drawing attention to us and that’ll probably make it harder for her, so…“ Yaz decided it was best to be honest. They had the shared interest of getting out of here, she she figured honesty would be the best policy.

“Fair enough. I guess I can hang on.“ The woman decided after brief consideration. She turned away from the metal bars and made her way over to Yaz who was wedged in between two aliens that she hadn’t encountered before. The mystery woman, however, despite her human appearance, seemed to know her way around aliens. She barked some orders in a completely foreign language at the alien to Yaz’s right who surprisingly budged over to make room for her. “Professor River Song.“ The curly haired woman introduced herself as she sat next to Yaz. It was a tight squeeze so she elbowed the alien to scoot up further. “When did your friend say this rescue mission would take place?“

“She didn’t.“ Yaz admitted. Her and the Doctor had been split up a while ago but she knew she would come for her eventually. “But she’s very reliable at this sort of thing. I’m Yasmine Kahn, Yaz is fine though.“

“Well, Yaz, if your friend doesn’t turn up in an hour, I’ll get us out of here myself, how’s that for a compromise?“ River said and Yaz chuckled:

“Sounds good.“

“What are you in for? You’re not from around here. I know a 21st century Earth jacket when I see one.“ River carried on, looking her up and down.

“How do you…“ Yaz’s face fell. In all her travels with the Doctor, no-one had realised they were time travellers, at least not this quickly and not on their own accord.

“I have an eye for these things.“ River smirked. “So you are a time traveller then, time agent perhaps? How did you get stuck in here?“

“Well, my friend and I we’e trying to solve the mystery of who assassinated the crown prince and now, they think it was us.“ Yaz sighed. This was always the way, things were never just straightforward, were they?

“Classic mistake, never interfere with the monarchy.“ River chuckled.

“What are you in for?“ Yaz asked curiously.

“Ah, you know, the usual…“ River gave a wave with her hand. “Had a fight with my husband, so I naturally came to a planet known for it’s exquisite jewellery to treat myself. Found this lovely pair of earrings, fifteen thousand credits but worth it and the charlatan of a seller exchanges it for a fake as he's wrapping them up for me. Thinking I wouldn’t notice.“ River rolled her eyes. “If you want to trick me you have to try a bit harder than a simple slide of hand. Obviously I called him out on it and perhaps the argument got a little out of hand…“ She sighed thinking back to the unfortunate incident. “But I wasn’t going to waste fifteen thousand credits of my husband’s money that he doesn’t even know he owns. He has no concept of money, I have no idea who he thinks is paying for our suit on Darillium, so I set it all up for him, another thing that ridiculous man has no concept of… Anyway, the argument got out of hand when I pulled a gun on him, apparently that’s not something they do on this planet even if you’re the wronged party in a jewellery deal.“ She sighed concluding her story.

“Right…“ Yaz wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I did steal the jewels mind. Wasn’t going to get cheated twice.“ River winked and pulled out a pair of beautiful crystal earrings.

“Wow they’re…“ Yaz was in awe and some of the prisoners looked around, taking an interest, but River was quick to return them to her pocket and shoot threatening glances all round.

“Beautiful, I know.“ She smiled, returning her attention to Yaz.

“So uh… your husband, will he come looking for you?“ The girl ask, amused by River’s description of her spouse, he sounded like a bit of a handful.

“Probably not. He went off to sulk as well…“ River shrugged.

“Maybe he's gone shopping, too?“ Yaz suggested and River chuckled:

“No, I believe he said he was going to live with otters for a while.“

“Must have been a big fight…“ Yaz wasn’t sure whether she was being serious or not but in the far reaches of space, anything was possible.

“It was honestly not even a big deal. I was just telling him about this expedition I wanted to go on and he got all funny about it. He got all like We’re time travellers, River, you don’t have to do this expedition now, you can do it later, it’ll always be there, waiting.“ River mimicked in a heavy Scottish accent, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a time traveller too?“ Yaz asked in surprise. It certainly explained why she had been so quick to catch on.

“Hence the keen eye for period clothing.“ River confirmed with a smile. “And yes, obviously, he’s right. I can go whenever I please but I was getting excited about it. I’ve always wanted to go to the Library, it’s so big, it doesn’t even have a name, you know, just a great big THE. But no, he insisted I at least stay till the end of the night and I don’t like being told what to do. And he doesn’t like to be told what to do either. And yes, it was a silly thing to argue about but I don’t take kindly to criticism and he’s such a manchild! Honestly, that’s the word we should get from him, not Doctor, wise man my arse…“ River went off on a bit of a rant, it seemed she still wasn’t quite over the argument just yet.

“Doctor…“ Yaz echoed, a little confused.

“My husband, the Doctor…“ River nodded.

Oh right, you said you were a professor, are you both academics?“ Yaz asked.

“Not quite. Doctor is what everyone calls him, I’m afraid his real name is a bit of a secret that I can’t reveal.“ River explained slightly amused. “But if you’re a time traveller… if you’re with the time agency, you must know about the Doctor.“ She realised. “And about me“

“I uh…“ Yaz didn’t know what to say, her head was spinning. Where they really talking about the same Doctor? “The Doctor, a time traveller…“

“Blue box, ridiculous clothes?“ River prompted her.

“Yes, of course I know the Doctor…“ Yaz tried her best to hide her shock at the revelation. “I just didn’t know about you…“ The Doctor had never mentioned a Professor River Song before. And River seemed to think the Doctor was a man. So she had to be from her past. The Doctor had mentioned many times about how she had been a man before so it made sense. She had neglected to mention she had been married though.

“Well, that’s either a very rude oversight by your agency or incredibly flattering that my existence is classified.“ River chuckled.

“I uh… I’m not with any sort of agency…“ Yaz decided it was probably best to come clean.

“Then how are you travelling through time?“ River frowned but Yaz didn’t get a chance to respond, suddenly, an explosion up the corridor shock the building.

“Sorry, that was a bit more obvious than I had planned!“ The Doctor sprinted up to the bars and worked the lock. “Sorry to keep you waiting Yaz!“

“Doctor?“ Yaz looked up in shock, she hadn’t expected her to turn up out of the blue. River’s head whipped around to Yaz and then she looked to the blonde who was just sliding the bars open.

“River?“ The Doctor looked back at River in shock. There was a moment of stunned confusion and the other prisoners took advantage of it. They jumped up from their seats and rushed out of the cell, nearly knocking the Doctor over. Yaz looked in between the two woman back and fore, not knowing what to say. This confirmed that they were clearly talking about the same Doctor and the way the Doctor’s face lit up for seeing River, Yaz could only conclude that she had been telling the truth about their relationship.

“Did you really wait to regenerate again before looking for me? Only you would sulk an entire lifetime!“ River jabbed her finger at the Doctor who was about to throw herself into her arms..

“I… what?“ The Doctor’s face fell.

“Our fight on Darillium about the Library! How long have you been sulking for? Did it kill you?“ River huffed crossing her arms in front of her chest, refusing the hug the Doctor was clearly craving.

“That… this is where you came after that fight?“ The Doctor exclaimed as the penny dropped.

“Yes! Buy myself some nice earrings. Well, when I said buy, I mean steal… where did you go?!“ River shot back, deflecting before she could scold her for stealing.

“I told you, to go see my otter friends!“ The Doctor retorted and Yaz just shook her head to herself. This conversation was getting more ridiculous by the second.

“You actually did that?“

“They’re good listeners!“ The Doctor replied defensively. “Didn’t even stay that long… just until you came and apologised.“

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do.“ River shook head.

“Yes, in hindsight, it really doesn’t. I guess this is why… guess it’s cause we meet and I convince you to go back…“ The Doctor gave an awkward smile and River huffed:

“And what is it you’ve got to say that will convince me to apologise to your past self?“

“He’s just scared.“ The Doctor shrugged. “Really really scared. We just found this wonderful life together, this reprieve from the running and the fighting… he’s just not ready to give that up yet… just let him have that night, the whole night, before you go anywhere…“ She held out her hand to her.

“I wasn’t really going to go right that moment…“ River mumbled, trying to gloss over how much of an effect her words had on her. Reluctantly she placed her hand in hers and the Doctor gave it a comforting squeeze.

“I know that now, he didn’t at the time.“ The Doctor smiled apologetically.

“I hate you…“ River huffed refusing to feel the magnitude of it all. This was a future Doctor, one she had never met before, one that knew how the night on Darillum would end and whether it really was the last time she would see them.

“No you don’t.“ The Doctor chuckled and pulled her into her hug. She held her close and closed her eyes the hide the tears pooling in them. River would pick up her past self from the far side of Darillium, where the white-haired scotsman was currently playing with otters, and they would continue their long and last night together. And then she would go to the Library… it was all written, no more time left. This was a stolen moment, nothing more. The Doctor pressed a kiss to the side of her wife’s head and nuzzled into her bouncy curls that were soft and familiar as ever.

“As much as I hate to interrupt… I’m sure someone would have heard that explosion…“ Yaz awkwardly cleared her throat. She didn’t want to intrude on what was clearly a very emotional moment - one that she would have to quiz the Doctor on at a later date - but they probably should get moving.

“How about a spin in the Old Girl, Professor Song?“ The Doctor pulled herself away at last.

“Why not, for old time’s sake.“ River chuckled and nodded. “Are you sure I really apologised to you?“

“I remember it quite clearly.“ The Doctor grinned. “I also remember we ended up swimming in a lake…“

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.“ River raised her eyebrows and the Doctor winked:

“Exactly.“

“That, on the the other hand, very much sounds like something I would do.“ River smirked. “Perhaps you and me can go for a little dip ourselves first… just, you know, make sure I actually can swim…“ She carried on suggestively.

“Okay, enough of the flirting, can we please get out of here?“ Yaz exclaimed wishing she was anywhere but here.

“I think I’m embarrassing your friend here, Sweetie.“ River chuckled, giving Yaz an apologetic smile. “To the TARDIS?“

“Let’s get you back to your husband.“ The Doctor agreed in amusement.

“You are her husband.“ Yaz exclaimed.

“And every time our paths cross, I wonder how I got so lucky.“ The Doctor grinned, trying to make light of the situation and not think about how this probably really was the last time she would see her.

“Look at you being charming.“ River smirked.

“Fine, just kiss already, so we can get a move on.“ Yaz groaned in annoyance and glanced down the corridor to make sure they were alright for the time being. When she looked back, she immediately regretted it. The Doctor had buried her hands in her wife’s impressive curls, River had already pushed the Doctor’s coat off and was pulling her braces down. Neither of them was paying any attention to Yaz or where they were. They were kissing feverishly.

“Right, you guys just carry on, I’m gonna go meet you back at the TARDIS… I can wait… guess the otters can too… you have a time machine after all…“ Yaz knew they really weren’t listening so she quickly turned away and hurried down the corridor in search of the TARDIS.

#doctor who #fanfiction #prompt #space wives #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #yowzah #twelve x river #Yasmine Kahn #femslash #general #fluff

[twstarchives]

Rook Hunt・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines: Dress-Up Groom Event Card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “Bonjour! I’m curious to see what kind of world you’ll show me.”

Groovy “Merci for making everyday so entertaining!”

Home Setting “How do I look?”

Home Transitions “Très bien! I’m excited. How will your choices change this school, and what kind of beauty will it bring?”

“I’m very interested in seeing every action you make. Would you let me follow you around for today?”

“You should see lots of sights and experience just as much. Refining your senses plays a large role in your beauty.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Something about you is different than it was yesterday... Heheh, could you wait a moment? I’m trying to pinpoint what it is.”

Home Taps “Uniforms are something you’re only allowed to wear for a limited period of time. Isn’t that fleeting part of them just beautiful?”

“Tips for hunting? You need to observe your target very closely. Stare at them long and... deeply.”

“Learning broadens your world. There’s a beauty that you can’t feel outside of this school, after all.”

“The beautility these uniforms have is fascinating! Don’t you think so too?”

“Oh, are we playing pretend hunter? Heheh, then I can’t lose either.”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I’m very athletic, despite how I look. How about we play a game of cat-and-mouse?”

Groovy “It’s just like paradise here! Everywhere I look, everything is beautiful!”

Home Setting “Let’s both work up a nice sweat!”

Home Transitions “I’m confident about my endurance. That’s something you can’t go without when you’re hunting.”

“You think sweating is embarrassing? Non! Putting your all into something is a very wonderful thing!”

“I’m very well-versed in sunscreens. Vil would just die if he got a sunburn, after all.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Why don’t you practice hunting with me? Hunting is a game of survival of the fittest, filled with survival tactics and natural beauty.”

Home Taps “Sports? They make everyone’s emotions all start to come unhinged... It’s wonderfully dramatic!”

“I always recommend wearing a hat. It’s hard to see your prey when the sun is in your eyes.”

“Beautiful souls lie in beautiful bodies. That’s why I train so hard.”

“Hm? Is there something you’re interested in? Alright; I'll satisfy your curiosity as much as you’d like me to.”

“Are you trying to provoke me? Heheh, how naughty. Disturbing your target’s peace of mind is a hunter’s favorite game.”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “Observing and analyzing... These skills are useful in both hunting and academics.”

Groovy “Now, it’s time for our ever-so-fun experiments!”

Home Setting “Now. Let’s work hard at our studies.”

Home Transitions “Focus on the task at hand. Well, I do understand the feeling of not being able to take your eyes off something beautiful, though.”

“If there’s something you want to know, you should keep asking until you get what you need. A determined look makes anyone look beautiful.”

“Dressing properly like this is just beautiful.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “The motivation to want to learn something is beautiful. I have some time today too—why don’t we spend some time together?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I can smell herbs somewhere. These are... ah, I’m sorry. The sense of smell is very important to a huntsman.”

Home Taps “Vil never slacks off with anything, whether it be his studies or his training. That’s one of his strong points.”

“A person’s natural beauty is only static beauty; the ever-changing beauty that comes as you develop is dynamic beauty. I wonder, under which does your light fall?”

“You can study and study and study, but you will never know everything about beauty. That is why I’m so enraptured by it.”

“Do you consider me odd? Then perhaps you need to know more about me.”

“Ah, how lonely you must be. That’s only natural when you remember the situation you’re in. As long as you’re alright with it, I’ll keep you company anytime.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Seeing something run away makes me want to chase it. You know what that means, right? If there ever comes a time when you run away from me, make sure you’re prepared.”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “It’s important to know what you’re getting yourself into before you jump in.”

Groovy “I feel like I could stare at that dignified profile of yours all day long.”

Home Setting “Sometimes it’s good to be under pressure.”

Home Transitions “Wearing these ceremony robes feels so sophisticated and mysterious... mm! I just can’t put it into words!”

“How elegant the silence of the Mirror Chamber is during ceremonies! This school is beautiful inside and out!”

“Ah, preparations took a long time to finish. But I'll be standing next to Vil as the vice dorm leader, so I need to put in all my effort.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I was just thinking I wanted to see you too. What a coincidence! Or maybe this was fate?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Can you tell I have a different fragrance than usual? Today I put on perfume. It's a nice smell, isn't it?”

Home Taps “I’m acting a lot more well-mannered than usual right now. There’s a beauty in that that stands out.”

“It’d be easy to get lost in the dark with these clothes on. Heheh.”

“There is beauty that some are just born with, but the beauty you work hard to achieve holds immeasurable power. Isn’t that right?”

“Your eyeshadow is a little smudged; it’s putting your beauty at stake. Would you mind if I fixed it for you?”

“Slow down, you’ll mess up your clothes if you keep playing around like that. You need to be good right now.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Let’s put on some makeup that fits you better. What color goes well with your eyes...?”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “Everyone is beautiful in their own way.”

“Welcome to Pomefiore! I’m very certain you’ll have a wonderful time here.”

Groovy “Can you see now what real beauty is?”

Home Setting “This must be it!”

Home Transitions “I had a feeling you’d be here. It seems my intuition was correct yet again today.”

“Oh no, are you drinking enough water? Your lips are a little drier than they were when I saw you earlier.”

“The Pomefiore uniform is just beautiful, isn’t it? It’s my favorite too.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Hello, I was waiting for you. Where are you off to today? I’ll accompany you wherever you go.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “I’m always thinking about how I want to be someone befitting of these beautiful robes.”

Home Taps “Some might say the rules of our dorm are strict, but that’s only natural when it’s something Vil is particular about.”

“I believe it to be an honor that I was sorted into Pomefiore. Although, every dorm has their charms.”

“I would never do anything to embarrass our dorm leader. That is my pride as the vice dorm leader.”

“The insides of our uniforms are patterned with the Queen’s beloved apples. Take a look! Frightening as they are, you just can’t take your eyes off them. That’s what beauty is.”

“You don’t think I could hunt in this outfit? Hehe, famous last words.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Oh dear, are you nervous? I can tell clear as day that your heart is pounding in your chest.”

Duo Magic Rook: I’ll show you how to hunt, Epel. Epel: Okay, Rook!

Birthday Celebration Outfit - SSR

This card was only obtainable during Rook’s birthday event (Dec 1 - Dec 6,, 2020).

Login on Birthday “Merci! That beautiful chirp of yours is the best present of all. I’ll always cherish those feelings you have.”

Unlock Card “What sort of beauty will I have the pleasure of seeing today...? I can’t wait.”

“Birthdays are one of my favorite events. Anyone can be their story’s protagonist on this day, and shine like an étoile.”

Groovy “This beautiful day is just like a glittering jewel... It’s nice spending this time with you.”

Home Setting “I’m getting ready to be the star of today.”

Home Transitions “Ahh, there was a shining smile on Vil’s face when he was eating cake! I couldn’t ask for a better birthday.”

“I like getting presents. It means that when you were picking out a gift, you were thinking of me.”

“‘What do I want for my birthday?’ Hmm... An art gallery just for me. I’ve been looking for somewhere to put all of my favorite things on display.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Surprises are wonderful! Going all out just to make someone else happy... What a noble sentiment!”

Home Transition (Groovy) “People born in separate lands spending time together in the same place... Would I be overdoing it if I called this fate?”

Home Taps “Roi du Léon got awfully cautious of me when I told him it’s my birthday. I only wanted him to wish me a happy birthday.”

“Beauté! The tart Trey made is just gorgeous. It was too precious to waste; I didn’t want to eat it.”

“Ruggie came to my birthday party. I was so happy I got to see how a hyena eats up close.”

“Before coming to this school, I’d spend all day on my birthday watching plays. Matinée, soirée... and journée.”

“Heheh. You don’t have to keep wishing me a happy birthday over and over. I can hear you. I have excellent hearing.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “A dream space where everyone is celebrating... Maybe you’d like to document this scene with your Ghost Camera?”

Tutorial “Now, let's go together. Onward to our beautiful school building!”

Lv Up “Marvelous! This is truly spectacular.”

“Making progress is exciting, isn’t it?”

“Nothing can replace the time spent with good friends.”

Max Lv Up “There exists beauty that can’t be seen unless you’ve mastered an art. Très bien! I’ve been shown another new world thanks to you.”

Episode Lv Up “Non! Don’t say another word. I can tell what your heart is trying to say just by gazing into your eyes.”

Magic Lv Up “Now I’d be able to easily secure any of my targets. Could you try running away from me so we can test that?”

Limit Break “You’ve shown me new possibilities. This is definitely a first. Merci!”

Groovy “I’ve acquainted with a new version of myself. My heart is pounding knowing something wonderful is about to come!”

Select Lesson “Those with beauty have a duty of taking responsibility for any choices they make.”

“Beauté! I could stare at that ever-so-hesitant face of yours all day long.”

“Which subject are you best in? Tell me now; it will stay between us two.”

Lesson Start “Now, the starting bells are ringing!”

Lesson End “What a beautiful ending... Fin.”

Battle Start “Let’s begin. My time to hunt...!”

Battle Win “If I must fight, then I’m going to want to win beautifully.”

Other

Profile Quote “Oh, you’re more beautiful than anything on earth! I wonder, can you outrun my arrow of love?”

January 2020 Trailer “I’m waiting for you here. And I always will be.”

Countdown Poster “I’d love to show you my beautiful world.”

Login Bonus “Très bien! You’re much more beautiful today than you were yesterday! I’m so hopelessly excited to see how you are tomorrow.”

Player Birthday Wish “Bon anniversaire! Your birthday is a day for me to commemorate, too. After all, this is the day that something beautiful was added to this world. It’s truly a wonderful day.”

#rook hunt #voice lines

[lexpressobean]

Parent/Teacher Night

In which Shikamaru steps in as Mirai's guardian to help her complete her unofficial assignment of the night and subsequently suffers from nostalgia induced shock from unforeseen circumstances.

**Modern AU, Mild Swearing, late 20-something adults who simply care about the same 10-year-old kid lol

Edit: Now available on AO3 too!

•••

Shikamaru had gladly accepted Kurenai's request for him to attend Parent-Teacher night with Mirai in her absence. It had been his day off after all, and he hadn't planned anything anyway. Plus, it'd only take, what, half an hour at most back and forth? Maybe he could even treat Mirai to dinner, just 'cause it had been a while. Normally, Kurenai would have skipped it all together due to her schedule, just this one time, but apparently Mirai's teacher was offering extra credit to the students as an incentive for them to have their parents come. And Mirai was very adamant that she shouldn't waste such an opportunity. Not for this teacher.

Shikamaru wondered what seemed to make this teacher so special to Mirai anyway. When he asked, Mirai seemed confused.

"You don't know, Shikamaru?"

"... Well, it's not like I've met the teacher either Mirai. But this teacher must be really good at their job if you like them that much already."

Mirai gave him a gleeful grin, "Watch, you'll see!"

And see he did.

Shikamaru wasn't expecting to run into such a classicaly "tall, dark, and handsome" form in the classroom. He certainly wasn't expecting that man to BE the teacher.

"Shino-sensei!" Mirai called, running over to greet him.

And at that, something froze Shikamaru in place. Something almost urgent... Wait... Shino? Shino... Why did that name sound familiar...?

The teacher turned just in time to take her glomp's impact with a deep, "OOF!" into his abdomen, and Shikamaru got distracted by the sound of his voice. Wow, deep... but then Shikamaru noticed his glasses misaligned in the process, and Shikamaru then realized they were... sunglasses? Indoors? Ha, this guy... Shikamaru wasn't necessarily gonna dock him points for that. But the only other person Shikamaru remembers doing that unironically was-

...

... Oh wait...

Oh... Wait.

OH. OH, HOLY SHIT!?

WAIT, THAT'S SHINO!? AS IN "SHINO ABURAME" SHINO!?!?!?

...

W H A T ! ?

"Ah... Mirai, hello. I thought you and your mother weren't coming. I told you it's okay, sometimes people can't come."

"Shikamaru came with me! I didn't want to miss the extra credit!"

"Shikamaru?"

"He's technically my godfather, so it counts, right?"

Shino stayed quiet for a moment and looked over towards the doorway where Shikamaru was still standing. As he recognized Shikamaru, Shino straightened up, gave a brief wave and... a smile?

Shikamaru was dumbfounded. Just a minute ago, he would've simply held up an open hand in response as he subtley and respectfully checked him out. Seriously, how could he not? But, now the movement of Shino's wave snapped him out of his thoughts and Shikamaru probably waved more than really needed to acknowledge the teacher. And he cursed at himself inwardly as soon as Shino looked back to Mirai. Was he blushing? It was feeling kinda hot in the classroom all of a sudden...!

"Alright Mirai, thank-you for coming, but for now please wait your turn, okay?"

"Alright!" Mirai walked back to Shikamaru, smiling widely proud of herself.

From far away, he could hear Shino's voice, "Sorry for the interruption. You see-"

"Surprise, Shikamaru!"

Mirai knew. This whole time. And the more he thought about it, Shikamaru at one point knew too. He just... simply forgot... Wow, what a thing to forget. Damn it, why didn't Shikamaru ask more questions earlier? Why didn't she just tell Shikamaru? Hell, why didn't KURENAI tell Shikamaru!?

"Yeah, I guess you're right..."

As Mirai led Shikamaru around the classroom, he started to try and recall more about Shino. It was all coming to him, slowly but surely. And if what he recalled was correct, this neat and organized classroom definitely would scream Shino. It was decorated with the typical posters meant to be both fun and helpful, and colorful and eye catching. Shikamaru even recognized many of the books in the shelves, though most he never actually read any of them. But there were traces of decorations here and there that were definitely conscious choices. Namely pictures of worms in apples, ladybugs, ants and bees symbolizing teamwork, things like that. Shino was a fan of bugs afterall.

Then Shikamaru found some board games and noted shogi was among them. He was tempted for a split second to pull it out and challenge Mirai to a game, but thought better of it. But what Mirai was most eager to show Shikamaru was her seat. Or rather, what was nearly right next to her seat.

In a terrarium, no doubt from Shino's collection if Kiba told him the truth, held a black and white worm. Except the worm had these orange like eye markings all along either side if it, and black dots in each eye shape... Shikamaru thought it looked kinda goth for a bug.

"We all decided to name it Daidai! Shino-sensei says this one will turn into a moth. Before Daidai, we had a catepillar we all named Marugao, because it's head was so big! But when he became a butterfly, he was so pretty, he almost shimmered!"

As Mirai gushed about how she got to sit next to Daidai, Shikamaru stole a glance at Shino once more. He was still making rounds, and it looked like no one else had come into the classroom either. Hm, looks like they were gonna be last.

Sunglasses had always hid Shino's eyes, ever since they were kids. Shikamaru couldn't quite recall if they were actually prescription or not, but up to this point, they had always been a constant. Otherwise... his former classmate really was virtually unrecognizable. And now that he thought about it, Shikamaru recalled that Shino had graduated from university with a teaching degree some years back, but this information had only been secondhand from Kiba on social media. Shikamaru wasn't even sure if Shino had social media...

Meanwhile, Shikamaru had barely been back in town for still less than a year. It wasn't his fault if he didn't know Shino's business. Medical school was gruelling, and anesthesia was no joke.

But still... Shikamaru had been expecting something similar from Shino. Maybe not a medical doctor, but a doctorate? Hadn't he been in the Environmental Club in high school? He seemed like he would've been very interested in the natural sciences, and definitely had the means... It was just kind if odd. He was an academic star that was always competing with both Ino and Sakura for top of the class as far as he could remember. And those ladies had gone to school to become a Pediatric Psychiatrist and Pediatric Surgeon respectively too. They were all a smart bunch, no doubt about that.

Yet, Shino had always been... different too. He had looked like a troublemaker with the beanies he wore, and his messy, nearly kinky curls always managed to find a way to stick out in the back. And he always had baggy looking clothing on in layers during any kind of weather. Plus he had a bad case of RBF Syndrome too, which would alarm a few others because he was always so good at blending into the background, yet when noticed, he looked like the kind of guy that would mess you up for just breathing funny. He had always been taller than most too, that probably didn't help.

But he wasn't a bad kid at all. Not like Naruto and Kiba anyway. Acording to Kiba, Shino's loner tendencies were due to simple shyness. And he would know, as Kiba and Shino seemed to grow close after they opted to join the Environmental Club separately in high school, which happened to be run by Kurenai-sensei. And that's all Shikamaru really knew, because when Kiba would come out and about Shino hardly ever came. Kiba could be pushy, which is how Shikamaru suspected the pair became friends in the first place, but apparently not enough to enjoy a party or things like that together outside of school... Maybe once or twice? Not even at Naruto's insistence could make him a regular, as Naruto was... an "unofficial" member of the Environment Club. Meaning he'd just crash the club's outings when they did plant specific activities. Naruto had a green thumb after all.

Actually, it always seemed like Kiba and Naruto were those extroverts that had the habit of adopting introvert friends so to speak. Funnily enough, their respective adoptees had already known each other too. But Sasuke was even LESS friendlier than Shino, and even Shino seemed annoyed with him, one of those rare times he let his thoughts show in his expression...

But today, in the yellowish glow of the classroom lights... something was definitely different. From his smoothed out hair tied up into modern bun on his hatless head and his open, light duty trenchcoat that really... accentuated his very... broad, adult figure... It was most definitely different... but the most dynamic change of all had to be that Shikamaru had never seen Shino so soft in the face before. Behind those shades, he looked... relaxed, and when he spoke, it sounded so... nice? Definitely not a bad thing at all...

And suddenly there was a hand in front of Shikamaru's face.

"-kamru...Shikamaru?"

"HUH!? What?"

... Oh... Hell, he spaced out.

"... Shikamaru, are you okay? Busy day at work at the hospital maybe?"

HUH!? How did Shino know that? "Uh! Yeah, kinda..." he shook his head, "Well no, that's not it, today was actually my day off. I worked yesterday. Still a little out of it looks like," he added with a casual chuckle. At least he hoped he sounded casual.

Shino frowned, eyebrows knit into concern. Ah man, how embarrassing! Had Shikamaru been caught starting with a dopey look on his face?

"... I'm sorry, maybe extra credit was a bad idea this time around. Mirai is so dutiful, I didn't mean for anyone to be dragged here."

"What? No way, I wasn't dragged here. Mirai is my Goddaughter, Shino, so I'm perfectly ready to be informed about her progress. I agreed to come, it's no big deal."

The now teacher looked at Shikamaru with a slight head tilt to the right... And then another small smile. Wow, he really had to stop doing that!

"Well, all in all, Mirai is actually doing very well. She already excels in her studies and is easily one of our most engaged and top students at this time. She's still young, but she shows a lot of scholarly promise."

"Ah, I see. Do... do you see any areas in need of improvement?"

"Well, there's always room for improvement of course. But in Mirai's case..."

Shino looked over at Mirai who was at the snack table. She had walked over to get a couple of cookies and was seemingly cornered by a classmate into a chat.

"... I think, she could benefit from some encouragement to be more social."

"More social?"

Shikamaru followed Shino's gaze and saw Mirai talking to her classmate, her expression showing patience more than anything... It looked like the other little girl was chatting up a storm.

"Don't misunderstand, she's definitely a team player and is very respectful. However, her maturity level is above many of her classmates. As a result, she tends to prefer to study on her own..."

Well, that rang a bell. Shikamaru could've sworn that Shino was the same way back then. But Mirai didn't resemble Shino at all.

"Is she quiet?" Shikamaru asked.

"Oh, no, thankfully she's still quite engaged. If anything, sometimes she may overthink things. I've noted she's a bit of a perfectionist, and so is actually a little slower on average during tests, but she's an avid question asker too. If she just had some more confidence in her self and would... relax a little more, I think it'd be good for her. She's still a kid after all, she should feel allowed to act like one."

That was a strange thing to say... Did Mirai... not feel okay?

"... She's Kurenai-sensei's daughter, so I try not to favor her. It's kind of hard when she used to ride on my shoulders during reunions and things like that though."

Shino gives a small, warm smile in Mirai's direction. And Shikamaru is kind of touched. Despite the shades, his fondness for Mirai is so obvious. It makes Shikamaru glad to know she has Shino to come to during school time. At least that was something....

Then, Shino turned back to Shikamaru, who was TOTALLY not staring just now.

"But it's necessary. She's... too comfortable with me... If earlier didn't make that obvious."

Shikamaru did have it in his mind to scold Mirai about that, but that was a talk for later. More private.

"I had meant to bring this up with Kurenai, but Mirai also... has had a habit of staying in the classroom during lunch and recess. I've had to move to the teacher's lounge during just to get her outside..."

"What? Really?"

Shino nodded, eyebrows knitted and a smile that showed a regretful sympathy.

"... I wonder what that could be about..."

"I suppose some kids find it hard to socialize, but she needs a more... balanced perception of boundries. In no time, she'll have her own mother for a teacher too. Otherwise, she's generally doing pretty well."

Shit. Shino was thinking way ahead, Kurenai was a high school teacher. But... he was right, this couldn't be allowed to go on.

"Shikamaru?"

"Hm? Yes?"

"Did you have any more questions?"

"Uh... No, I... don't think so. But, even though I'm sure you don't have to be asked, please, continue to take care of her."

Shino perked up a little at that before smiling at Shikamaru again! It made it hard to stare him in the face, "Of course."

... Damn... Was Shino's smile... always this cute?

"Shikamaru! I brought you a cookie."

"Oh, thank-you."

"Did you want one too Buggy... I mean... Shino... sensei?"

"... Buggy?" Shikamaru repeated.

"... Ah, Sensei I'm sorry, I did it again...!"

Shino pat Mirai's head, and gave a small chuckle even. Shikamaru was all ears, "It's okay Mirai, I'm know you're trying. No offense taken."

"I really am, I promise!" she assured, "So did you want one?"

"No thank-you Mirai, it's for the guests. You go ahead."

"Okay, sensei."

Shikamaru couldn't help it. He just had to say something.

"Hey Shino."

"Yes?"

"You must be pretty suited to teaching."

"Oh? What makes you sat that?"

"I mean... It's been a while. Actually it's been a long time, but... well, I don't think I've ever seen you quite like this before..."

"Pardon?"

"I dunno, you just seem... Very much in your element here. I'm glad the whole instructor thing really worked out. You've been here for a few years already, haven't you?

"Oh... Thank-you, Shikamaru... And yes, I have. I appreciate that."

This time Shino GRINNED. And Shikamaru suddenly was very aware of his... jawline... uh...

"Y-Yeah, of course! Well, I'm sure there's other parents you need to talk to..."

"Right, that is true." A couple more stragglers had come in.

"But here, hold on a sec," Shikamaru pulled out his phone, "I don't think we've ever traded information before. Wanna trade now? I'll send you a text back."

"Oh," Shino was a bit surprised, "Um. Okay, sure."

After getting his number, Shikamaru sent a text and could hear one of Shino's pockets vibrate.

"There, all set! Thanks for talking with me, Shino."

"Thank-you for coming. And if you're not terribly busy, I trust you will be the one to come when Kurenai-sensei is unavailable?"

"Yes. Yes, that'll be the plan," Shikamaru decided right then and there.

"Alright, thank-you Shikamaru."

"No, thank-you. C'mon Mirai, let's go. Goodbye, Shino.

"Bye Shino-sensei!"

"Goodbye."

-

"Shikamaru! Can we go eat something? I'm starving!"

"What do you want?"

"Yakisoba!!"

"Haha, alright, sure."

Mirai gave Shikamaru a sudden and huge hug.

"Whoa, what's up?"

"I'm just so happy you came, Shikamaru! So thank-you!" she beamed.

It tugged on Shikamaru's heartstrings a bit. She really had missed him, huh? "You don't have to thank me, Mirai, but your welcome anyway. C'mon, let's go."

"It was nice that you and Shino-sensei got to see each other again too, don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah, it was quite the surprise. But a welcomed one."

Hmmm... It looks like Kurenai was gonna have to be unavailable for the next few parent-teacher nights....

••

I kept tweaking it and tweaking it until I decided to simply stop. So sorry for any grammar or syntax errors, but I just needed to get this out of my system haha

#shikashino #anime: naruto #fanfic #ahhh I almost don't want to tag them seperately... #k here it goes #shino aburame #aburame shino #shikamaru nara #nara shikamaru #modern au version of a bigger and more canon based story I'd like to write... #but this happened and I guess I might as well post it #quite self indulgent #as you can see #shikamaru is prone to what we call #~•☆gay panic☆•~ #dusk's fanfic

[princess-geek]

Love Lesson

This fic is dedicated to my guardian angel @storyofmychoices. Besides she's a wonderful a writer, she's an incredible human being whose kind and light are endless. I never could thank her enough for what she has been doing for me.

Dear Dani, I know you usually don't read Hunt's fics written by other authors, but I hope you accept this one.

I hope you enjoyed it 😊💕

Choices Book: Red Carpet Diaries (a couple of years after Book 3)

Characters: Thomas Hunt, Miss Taylor (@storyofmychoices ), mentions to Jessica Massena (my RDC MC) and Matt Rodriguez.

Words: 1748

Warnings: none

Notes: English is not my first language. Please, excuse me any typos /or grammatical errors.   

Special thanks to @alj4890 for be by beta reader.

Jessica Massena exclusive pregnancy photos -  The most handsome Hollywood parents to be talk about the challenges of parenthood.

Thomas sighed and poured some more of the expensive scotch in the glass. He has no idea why he was wasting his time reading garbage press. He'll be the baby's godfather. He knew every detail about the issue. All the sacrifices she did to conceive...how the first months of nausea got her down. But now, she was radiant...healthy...happy...with Matt. 

She had woken up his senses and melted his heart unlike any other woman in years. He never actually had confessed his feelings because it was clear like crystal whom her heart belonged to.  For a while, it drove him crazy. Nowadays, he had made peace with his feelings and he came back to his old self. He also recognized that it was nothing more than a crush, a fever of an almost middle-aged man caused by her infectious joy.  Jessica Massena was a closed chapter in his life.

He abandoned the magazine and refocused on his research. A tragic death of a beloved teacher in a shooting at a high school inspired him to approach the question of USA public schools’ problems. He had read tons of news and academic papers about it, but they were too theoretical. He needed to breath that air, step on those dirty floors, hear the sounds. So, he decided to visit some public schools in area.

Since he was invited to speak at a university conference in New York, Thomas decided to visit some schools there too.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kids and teens. Many. Too many. It was a banal New York school. Perfect.

As he wandered through the corridors, he saw a girl crying, hidden in the corner of lockers. Thomas wanted to do something, but he didn't know what to do or even what to say to calm the girl down. He never had a good way with children.

While Thomas was still distressed in his dilemma, a brunette stopped her hurried march, stepped back, placed a giant coffee cup on the floor and knelt beside the girl.

She gently wiped the girl's tears away. Thomas couldn't hear clearly what they were talking about, but he noticed that the girl calmed down as the woman spoke to her and stroked her hair.

“After class, I promise I'll go with you to talk to the principal. They can't do that and get away with it!”  the brunette promised hugging the girl tightly.

It was the last thing Thomas heard before the bell rings.

With confusion in the crowded corridors, Thomas lost sight of the girl and the brunette. 

The school board recommended him to visit Miss Taylor's class, classroom no.51. It took a while, but he finally found the classroom. Before knocking on the door, Thomas suddenly felt nervous, with a knot in his stomach.

‘In the name of art, Thomas, in the name of art …' he murmured before knocking.

The door opened. Many pairs of expectant eyes looked back at him with curiosity. When the door opened a little more, it revealed the brunette he had seen with the girl.

His eyes fixed on her sweet chestnut for a moment, and, no matter how cliché and cheesy this may be, his heart literally skipped a beat. Thomas felt an inexplicable warmth come to his face. Fortunately, the beard would camouflage his rosy cheeks. Whatever happened in those seconds, it didn't seem to affect the brunette who looked away.

“Is this Miss Taylor’s class?”

“Yes.”

“I have permission from school board to attend your class. I’m…”

“I know who you’re... please come in,” she smiled shyly, “I apologize for not having a seat for you ... the room is at its maximum capacity ... but if you want you can sit at my desk…”

“No way, Miss Taylor! Don’t worry about me. I am going to the back of the room. You won't even notice my presence. Thank you for having me.”

 She just nodded.

“Class, let me introduce you Mr. Hunt. He is a famous director…”

“We watched one of his movies a few weeks ago, didn't we, Miss Taylor?”

“Yes, we did…”

“Mr. Hunt, Miss Taylor is a huge a fan of you…she said she watched all your movies…”

Miss Taylor's cheeks changed to increasingly reddish tones.

“Kids let me finish, please…”

“Is it true that Jessica Massena blow you off?”

“Samantha don’t be nosy! I’m so sorry, Mr. Hunt…they’re well behaves kids. I'm sure this is the excitement speaking for them,”

“I'm not making anything up ... it's in all the magazines!” Samantha protested.

“Miss Taylor is single, and she already has a soft spot for you…You could ask her out!” another girl added.

“Children, you’re crossing the line ... one more inappropriate observation and you are grounded!”

“That’s okay, miss Taylor…they’re just kids.” Thomas said.

“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Hunt...As I was saying, Mr. Hunt will be here at school for some days and attend some classes for research proposals.”

“This is for a new movie?”

“Can we be part of it?”

The students were even more excited.

It took some time for them to calm down, but little by little, Miss Taylor, in a sweet and serene voice, managed to calm them down and refocus their attention on her.

After correcting homework, Miss Taylor started her Math lesson. The way she explained it was truly remarkable…inspiring. She put in those numbers the same passion he had seen in the greatest actresses.

She was very affectionate with the students. One of them was having troubles in understanding an exercise. Miss Taylor explained it once, twice, three times ... always calmly and patiently.

“Very good! I knew you could do this.” Miss Taylor encouraged the student.

Jessica Massena was a consuming fire, but the brunette teacher was warming his soul, a kind of heat that settles on the skin, on the bones and makes us feel good and at peace.

From time to time, when she thought he wasn’t looking, Miss Taylor threw him a discreet shy look. When their eyes locked, she blushed, adjusted her hair nervously and looked away.

Thomas found himself completely mesmerized. In fact, he felt like he was in one of those cheesy movies where the main character is completely lost gazing at the girl, there is a pop romantic ballad playing in the background and the sun shines brighter.

 He didn't notice time passing, delighted to hear and observe her. The bell woke him from the trance.

“Sorry again for the kids... and for and the indiscreet remarks.”

“No need to apologize. It's part of the children's charm ... at least that's what people say.”

“I hope you found our class useful for your research.”

“Yes...thank you for having me...”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Whenever one looked, the other looked away.

“The pleasure was ours. If there is anything that kids or I can do for help...”

He barely heard her, captivated by her natural features. Her lips were two beautiful pink lines. Thomas had never thought of his life being enchanted by a nose, but Miss Taylor's nose was the cutest nose he had ever seen. The director was so distracted that he didn’t notice he was leaning against a desk, which, at some point, gave in to his weight, causing him to lose his balance.

She tried to grab his arm to hold him, but the force of gravity had no mercy and the director ended up falling on the floor dragging Miss Taylor with him who landed on top of him.

Just a couple of inches were separating their lips. “Kiss her!” a voiced shouted in a corner of his head, “Are you crazy, Thomas?” another inner voice replied, “You’ve only known her for a couple of hours ... What would she think of you?”

I must have hit my head very hard... his rational self thought.

“Oh Lord, I’m so sorry, Miss Taylor...Are you okay?”

“Yes...and you? I’m so sorry. I was trying help and my clumsiness got things worse like the usual…”

“No, it was all my fault, Miss Taylor.”

Her perfume. It was not like the expensive signature perfume the women who he usually crossed paths. Her hair smelled like honey and her perfume was soft with hints of flowers.

“Maybe we should get up?”

“Yes, of course, sorry.” Thomas babbled.

She got up first and held out her hand to help him. Thomas declined delicately. A gentleman must help the lady and not the other way around.

However, when he got up, he fell out of balance again, falling once more.

Miss Taylor smiled to avoid laughter.

“You can laugh. This is absolutely ridiculous,” Thomas said, allowing a smile to appear on his lips.

He rose from the ground with as much dignity as possible, shaking the dust and smoothing his blazer. Moved by the instinct of help, Miss Taylor helped him to clean up. At some moment, their fingers touched and grazed each other’s for some seconds. She blushed and took her hand from his arm.

“May I offer you to a coffee? I mean, offer a coffee to you…as an I’m sorry coffee,”

“You don’t have to do it, Mr. Hunt…”

“Just Thomas, please…and I insist…It’d be a pleasure for me.”

“I…I'd love it…”

“Great! Do you recommend any place special?”

“Wait , I can’t…I’m sorry, I promised to help a student after classes…she really needs me today…I’m sorry…”

“She…your students are lucky to have you.”

Miss Taylor blushed. “I’m not that special…I just love what I do…I think you can understand me on that point…You used to be a professor too...and, you know how it is...When we love our job, we don’t just do it...we breathe it.”

Yes, he could understand that. And he was understanding that this he was feeling was something he shouldn’t ignore.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to Mr. Somerset’s classroom. Maybe, after classes tomorrow?”

She smiled.

“Until tomorrow.”

Thomas gently grabbed her hand, taking it to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on it, “I’m counting the minutes. Have a lovely evening, Miss Taylor.”

He made his way out of the classroom, but not resisting to steal some glances of her along the way, which cost him a blow to the shin, courtesy of desk’s iron leg. When he threw a last glance at the doorway, she said:

“Danielle. My name is Danielle.”

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