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theladyofdeath · 3 years

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Tempting the Fates {Chapter 4}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2550

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Apollo

– God of light, prophecy, inspiration, poetry, the sun, music and arts, medicine and healing

Aelin tried to convince herself that she got up and got ready two hours early for class because of her busy schedule. She kept telling herself it was for the meeting she had with her advisor, about a possible internship at the end of the semester.

She knew that both reasons, while extremely important, were full of shit. She knew she’d showered, blow dried and curled her hair for Rowan. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him. She’d already done that and the chance she had to be with him had come and gone.

No, now it was about proving to him that even though this class may be a gen ed, she was taking it seriously.

Dropping the class had crossed her mind. She really didn’t need to take it, she could still find a different one to pick up. But she didn’t want to think about the sort of impression it would leave about her.

If there was anything to know about Aelin Galathynius, it was that she was not a quitter, nor did she run from her problems.

Or heartaches.

With one last look in the mirror, and a whistle from Lysandra, Aelin was out the door and hurrying across campus. She grabbed a coffee on the way, but avoided her usual place, knowing full well that Rowan enjoyed the same famous cafe that she did.

He wasn’t there yet when she got to the hall, but she took the same seat she had the class before.

She wondered if Rowan would be looking for her this time.

She quickly shook the thought away.

With her hot coffee on the corner of her fold up desk, she was pulling out her notebook and a pen, waiting anxiously for class to begin.

For him to walk through the door.

Apparently he liked to be right on the dot, though, because students continued to wander in, but he did not.

She was tapping her pen against her notebook, doing her best not to stare at the clock. She was just anxious for her day to start. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Rowan.

Professor Whitethorn, she amended in her head. She had to quit thinking of him as Rowan. She couldn’t think of him like that anymore, his body pressing into hers, lips on her neck, as he—

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed and suddenly realized that the rest of the class had hushed. She was so focused on reprimanding herself for her highly inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him come through the door and begin setting up for class. When she dared to glance towards the front, she found his eyes on her. He quickly looked away, going back to his laptop and setting up the PowerPoint on screen.

Maybe he hadn’t been looking at her.

Maybe it had all been in her mind.

But she didn’t think it had been.

He had been watching her.

“Happy Thursday, class,” he began, as the title page of his presentation flashed onto the board. “Glad to see you all showed up again. Must mean my first class didn’t suck.” Quiet laughter thrummed through the room. Aelin couldn’t muster a laugh, though. “On Tuesday, we covered the basics. So, today… Sorry, we’re doing that again.”

More laughter, especially from the pretty, flirty girls up front.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Which, when she settled her eyes back on Rowan, he definitely saw.

Come on, get your shit together, she chastised herself. With her back straightened, she gave him her full attention.

She took dutiful notes, but his slides didn’t hold much in the way of information. They were mostly headers, with a few bullet points. Most of the important information, information she knew would be critical for homework or exams, came straight from Rowan’s mouth.

It was clear that he loved mythology, that it wasn’t just a class his aunt had tossed his way and told him to figure it out. He was a trove of knowledge and she noticed he had a habit of going on slight tangents when he got going on a topic he was clearly interested in.

After a student asked him to clarify what he meant about Hercules not being Zeus’ only son, he ended up talking for nearly twenty minutes about what the beloved Disney movie had gotten wrong. Aelin had stopped taking notes and was watching him go on and on about how Hades, while god of the underworld, was not necessarily a villain. He just had a job to do. A job that had rules that must be followed, or the consequences could damn not only him, but others involved. His eyes found hers again and the amused smile on her face fell as she made the correlation between their own situation and the story.

They held each other’s gazes for far longer than was appropriate, and Rowan cleared his throat, going back to the PowerPoint, and the predetermined lesson plans he’d made, which didn’t include children’s movie breakdowns.

She watched him.

She listened.

And she found it all fascinating.

Rowan peeked at the clock after going on and on, and stilled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll end there. There is an assignment due by tomorrow evening. You can find and submit it online. It’s an opinion piece. I want a little insight as to why you were so interested to take this class, or what you’ve found fascinating so far.” He sat on his desk, his legs hanging over the side, his feet nearly touching the ground as he leaned back on his palms. Aelin found it charming. “You’re going to write a short essay telling me of your favorite deity. It could be one I’ve talked about so far, or one I haven’t. It’s your choice. But, tell me why they are your favorite. Give me a little depth. And, remember, this is a college course. Grammar counts.”

The clock struck nine-thirty and everyone began packing up. Aelin had been so captivated by his voice that she had to snap herself back to reality.

She quickly packed up her bag, alongside the other students around her. She noticed then how young they all were, and she was willing to bet that she may be the only senior on the roster. As she was descending the stairs, she found Rowan’s eyes on her again, but he looked away as his attention was taken, thanks to the group of girls who’d been sitting in the front row. She heard vague questions of whether they could all write about Aphrodite, since they all related to her.

The scoff Aelin thought she’d kept to herself had apparently been out loud, since not only Rowan looked at her as she passed, but so did the three girls. With his attention on her again, she decided to give him a little wave.

“See you later, Professor Whitethorn.”

If there was some extra sway to her hips, it wasn’t on purpose.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Two and a half hours later, Aelin was starving. She’d just gotten out of an extremely complicated lab and she could barely focus over the growling of her stomach. Twice, the instructor had looked over at her, half expecting to find a dog stashed under the table she was working at.

So when the class let out, she was hurrying toward the cafeteria ready to get a salad from the salad bar and a big ass slice of pizza.

It was all about balance.

As she was waiting in line to fill her plate with salad, she heard a voice behind her.

“Are you actually getting lettuce or just filling your plate with ham, cheese, and croutons?”

Aelin looked over her shoulder to find Chaol, her ex, suppressing a smile.

Aelin chuckled. “If it’s the same price, you may as well pile up on the good stuff.”

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you, Aelin. You look good.”

Things hadn’t ended the best between her and Chaol, but that had been just after freshman year. At least now when they ran into one another, they could have nice little conversations like this one.

No hard feelings.

“You too,” she said, and he did. He’d been in an accident the year before. They weren’t sure he was going to walk again. In all honesty, it was just good to see him on his feet.

“How long until your class?” He asked, sliding his tray along behind hers.

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty five minutes. You?”

“This is my long break,” he sighed. “I’ve got an hour and a half, but didn’t feel like leaving campus. Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure.” Her smile wasn’t forced, it was easy and she was glad they could even do this, when three years again, they could barely be in the same room.

“I assume you’re getting a piece of pizza after this,” Chaol said with a smirk, nodding towards her plate. “So I’ll grab us a table while you get the rest of your lunch.”

She scoffed but nodded, and went off to get a slice of pizza. When she ordered her pizza, she also got a slice of cheesecake. It was his favorite, something she hadn’t forgotten, but it didn’t hurt that she liked it, too.

Finding him in the cafeteria, she sat down at the table across from him. “How’s Yrene doing?”

He blushed, and Aelin had to admit it was adorable. After his accident, he’d fallen for his physical therapist, and she was just as smitten with him. It must have been all the one-on-one sessions, because Chaol had never been one to let someone in. Aelin had met Yrene early in her med classes, but Yrene had specialized in PT and graduated in less than three years, taking as many classes as she could manage and even studying through the summers as well.

“It’s going good,” he said, at last. “We, uh, just moved in together, actually.”

Aelin lifted a brow. “That was fast.”

Chaol shot her a look.

Aelin laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, good for you. I like Yrene. A lot. You two are good together.”

Chaol cleared his throat before taking a bite of his salad. “Thanks.”

Aelin chuckled, taking a bite of her pizza.

Chaol blinked. “What?”

“You get so uncomfortable when it comes to feelings,” she said. “Always have.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “That’s not true.”

Aelin stopped mid-chew and raised a brow.

Even Chaol couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Aelin hesitated, then said, “No.”

A slow grin appeared on Chaol’s mouth. “Didn’t sound so sure about what one.”

Aelin shrugged. “Better be nice or I’m not sharing this magnificent cheesecake with you.”

Holding up his hands in placation, Chaol went back to his salad. Rowan was a dangerous topic, one she wouldn’t share with anyone but Lysandra, so she summed it up quickly. “Met someone I thought I hit it off with. Turns out we didn’t work.”

He slowly nodded. Aelin knew he’d had a couple failed relationships between her and Yrene. “I get it, I’m sorry. Still sucks.”

Shrugging again, she turned to her salad. “It happens. Not a big deal. So if you’re living with Yrene, does that mean you and Dorian broke up? Or is he playing house with you, too?”

Chaol leveled her with a look. Chaol and Dorian had been best friends long before they came to the University of Orynth. They were both from Adarlan, both trying to get away from overbearing fathers, and decided college across the country was the way to do it. They’d been roommates every year and Aelin couldn’t even imagine Chaol living with anyone except Dorian. But now he was. “He moved into an apartment with Manon this semester when I moved in with Yrene.”

Aelin blinked. “Blackbeak? He moved in with Manon Blackbeak?”

Nodding, Chaol went on. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for about a year, without anyone noticing.”

Something in the way he said it told Aelin that he had noticed, but when Dorian had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. And apparently, he’d decided to date one of the most terrifying women on campus.

Aelin’s response was eloquent. “Wow.”

Chaol grinned. “I like it when you’re caught off guard. It’s satisfying.”

With a scoffed she nudged his leg with the toe of her sneaker. “Well, I don’t. Dorian will be getting a very angry phone call this afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to give him a warning,” Chaol promised.

Aelin chuckled, taking the last bite of her pizza. “It’s good to see you all happy, though. Really.”

Chaol’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Aelin.”

She nodded. “Even if I am terrified that Dorian will get eaten alive.”

Chaol laughed, and she had forgotten how nice Chaol’s rare, hearty laugh was.

She meant it. She was so happy for them, both of them. It was interesting how things changed over the course of a few short years.

Their conversation continued, as did the laughs, and before she knew it, Aelin glanced down at her watch. She had less than fifteen minutes to haul ass back to the nursing building for her next class. Chaol, who had much longer to sit with nothing to do, assured her that he could handle her trash and told her to get to class. With a hug, and a promise that they’d have dinner soon, all of them, even Manon, Aelin was hurrying out of the cafeteria building.

Somehow, the entire time she’d been having lunch with Chaol, she hadn’t noticed the set of pine green eyes watching her.

Rowan’s own break had been at the same time as hers, but the gen ed building was much closer than wherever she was having to run off to, so he had longer to sit and— there was no denying it— brood. They were halfway across the room, so he couldn’t hear any of their conversation. He had no clue who the tall man was she smiled at so often, but clearly they were very familiar with each other with how easily they talked. And he made her laugh. A lot.

Rowan wasn’t sure why that was what grated on his nerves the most, but it unsettled him.

Seeing Aelin with someone else, someone clearly her own age, it all unsettled him. He didn’t like it. Almost as much as her parting words in class had.

See you later, Professor Whitethorn.

It’s like she was mocking him, yet at the same time, she clearly wasn’t. She was doing exactly as he’d asked of her, seeing him as her professor, not as her boyfriend.

No, he reprimanded himself. Not boyfriend. Hookup.

They’d had sex one time, that didn’t give either of them any claim over the other. It was a hookup and nothing more. And she was his gods-damned student.

She was off limits, in every way possible.

Yet he couldn’t figure out why seeing her with someone else, someone she should clearly be interested in instead of him, had him seeing red.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #fanfic #fanfiction #tog #throne of glass #modern au #professor au #college au #sjm #snacmc collab #snelbx x tacmc collab

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teddy06writes · 3 years

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A Day In The Life

requesred by this genius anon: “Aight imma hit you with a good one: Literally everything as platonic, but a day in the life of reader in high school with the minor gang (too my, tubbo, ranboo) and all the faculty at the school are dreamsmp members”

Platonic! Minors gang (tommy, tubbo, ranboo and purpled) x reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: a day in the life of a student at the DSMP public high school

{with all the shit that goes on the smp there's no way it could be anything but a public school}

{also if I do things slightly off or something its cause my high school is weird, we only have four blocks a day, but I think most have seven, so we’re going with that}

{also the dream/george thing, is based on two of the sciences teachers at my school being suspected of having an affiar}

{Full teacher list:

English: Mr. NotFound

Drama: Mr. Soot

Spanish: Mr. Dream (its mexican dream lol)

Gym: Coach Sapnap and Coach Punz

Home ec: Miss Nihachu

Music: Mr. Quackity

Chemistry: Mr. Halo}

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Home room: Mr. Callahan

You sighed, trudging toward the school entrance, god it was way to early for this.

The halls were already crowded with people heading to there home rooms, and Mr. Minecraft, the principal, was standing outside the admin offices, greeting everyone with a smile.

“Good morning, (y/n).”

“Good morning Mr. Minecraft.” You grumbled as you passed.

You hurried through the foyer and up the stairs, toward Mr. Callahan’s room.

“Hey!” Tubbo called, hurrying down the hallway, “(y/n)!”

“Hey Tubbo.” you yawned.

He fell into step with you, “You think Callahan will actually show today?”

The one good thing about your home room teacher is that none of the kids ever seemed to have seen him. It meant that some days, while other home rooms had lectures of bullying or something, your class got to hang out for 30 minutes.

“I don’t think he even exists.” Purpled said, falling in on your other side.

“He definitely doesn’t.” You agreed.

History: Mr. Blade

“Hey (y/n)!” Ranboo called from his seat at the front of the room as you came in.

He was lucky enough to have moved homerooms and ended up getting the same room as his first block.

“Hello Ranboo.” you sighed, sitting down in your seat next to him.

Tommy came in and plopped down behind you, “Well you sound like shit.”

“No swearing in my classroom, Tommy.” Mr. Blade chided, hardly looking up from the book on his desk.

You turned to look at Tommy, “It’s too early for this.”

“You say that everyday!” He laughed.

“Yeah! Cause this class starts at 7:45 in the god damn morning!” You half exclaimed.

“Bloody hell you’d think you’d get used to it-”

“Tommy, what did I say about swearing?” Mr. Blade cut Tommy off.

“But you didn’t yell at (y/n)!” Tommy yelled, “That’s not fair Tech!”

Me. Blade glared at his brother, “Do you want me to send you down to Phil’s office Tommy?”

“I didn’t even do anything!”

After a moment under Mr. Blades glare, Tommy sighed, “Please don’t send me down to Phil.”

The teacher didn’t respond, instead standing up and moving to stand in front of the board, queuing up the intro slides for the day, “All right everyone, settle down. Today in our ‘tour of the ancient world’ or whatever, we’re going to start our mini unit on Greece.”

Statistics/Math: Mr. Was Taken

After a class that ended mostly in a rant about the myth of Heracles, you said goodbye to Ranboo and Tommy and met up with Purpled to head to math.

Mr. Wastaken was already passing out the notes when you two got there, sliding into your seats at the back of the classroom just as the bell rang.

“You’re late.” He chided, dropping the papers onto your desk, then Purpleds.

“Purp needed to refill his water bottle.” You explained.

“Seriously?” Mr. Wastaken questioned, “Dude, it’s second block, why the hell was your water already empty?”

Purpled shrugged, “P.E?”

“Ehh, wrong, Sapnap doesn’t have you till sixth period.”

“Stairs... are murder man.” He fumbled.

You nodded, “First floor to the fourth floor is tough Mr. Wastaken.”

Rolling his eyes, the teacher moved back to the front of the room, “Alright, last nights homework was a bit of a flop so we’ll be more review for the quiz tomorrow.”

You groaned internally, pulling out your pencil.

Purpled nodded, “I fuckin hate review days.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Mr. WasTaken half yelled.

Chemistry: Mr. Halo

After Math you and Purpled headed down to the science hall to meet back up with Tubbo to head to Chem.

“Welcome back everybody!” Mr. Halo greeted cheerily, “Good to see smiling faces for chemistry!”

How he managed to stay so upbeat, no one would ever know.

You sat down at your lab table with Tubbo, “You think we actually make it to doing the lab today before he starts talking about Mr. Skeppy again?”

“Oh no chance.”

You chuckled, pulling out your notebook as Mr. Halo pulled up the opening review before the lab.

Twenty minutes later found you elbow deep in the lab, quite literally.

“It was supposed to just be a small scale elephants toothpaste!” Mr. Halo cried.

Purpled grinned, “You should’ve taken my wildcard factor into account sir.”

You laughed, wiping the foam off your apron (thank god for lab aprons), “That was brilliant!”

A few minutes earlier, Tubbo had helped him do out the math to scale up the experiment by 20%, and you had willingly given up your own materials to help.

Now most of the classroom was covered in the foam, and Purpled and the girl who had been unfortunate enough to be partnered with him were knee deep in it.

“I sent the video to the groupchat.” Tubbo whispered.

“Good.” You chuckled again.

Mr. Halo groaned, “You three start cleaning this up, Elizabeth, dear, why don’t you join a different group.”

“I volunteer to switch with her!” Drista yelled, “they look like fun!”

Mr. Halo sighed, “No- no absolutely not- I can’t deal with you added to the mix.”

Drista pouted, the rest of the class went back to there work, and you, Tubbo and Purpled began to clean up the foam.

Drama: Mr. Soot

As Purpled left for his history class, you and tubbo headed twoard the music/performing arts suit, where you met up with Ranboo.

“Tommy said he wished he could’ve been there to see the foam.” Ranboo reported as Tubbo peeled off into the band room, and you both continued on to the green room.

“Hello, Hello, Hello!” Mr. Soot greeted in an aussie accent (you know the one).

“Oh god please say were not doing accents today.” Ranboo muttered.

Mr. Soot laughed, “Nah, we’re going to do some more rounds of improv.”

“Oh thank god.” You said as you moved to take a seat at one of the side tables.

“That would have been hell.” Ranboo agreed.

More people poured into the room, take seats all around as Mr. Soot began to dig through on of the closets.

As the bell rang he let out a triumphant cheer, turning around and brandishing a very large bowl of paper slips, “I found the prompts!”

“Oh dear lord.” Ranboo muttered.

“Mr. Soot can we please do like, anything else?” You asked, “Like scenes, or hell I’d even take monologues, you know we’re all shit at improv!”

The teacher sighed, “I suppose we could do something else. I guess we can begin our next topic, you’re all going to be assigned scenes and given time to practice them, we’ll present on Friday!”

The entire class breathed a sigh of relief that you had managed to change his mind.

~~ English: Mr. NotFound

After a very chaotic lunch full of Tubbo retelling a bunch of jokes Mr. Quackity had told during music, you trudged off to the one class that didn’t have any of your main group of friends in.

The one good thing about having Mr. NotFound as a teacher was that he had no clue what he was doing.

More often then not you would be left to do essays or read the required books, and then watch the movies that went along with them.

And, just your luck, your English block happened to take place during Mr. Wastaken’s prep period.

“Right, everyone, today’s a work day, finish up anything you need to for this class, or another, and I’ll put on a movie.” Mr. NotFound said as soon as everyone was seated.

Ten minutes into the movie the teacher had left, and you pulled up the group chat.

(y/n): Mr. NotFound has yet again suspiciously left during class.

Purp: sus

Purp: just went by WasTaken’s room

Purp: he’s not there

BooBoy: I saw him down in the science hall ten minutes ago

BeEs: Science hall is oposite to English isn’t it

(y/n): yeah it is

BooBoy: very sus

Purp: I swear their having an affair

BeEs: defintly a lesbian

BeEs: *leassion

BeEs: lesion

BeEs: le-a-zon

BeEs: you know what I mean!

BooBoy: take your time Tubbo

You chuckled quietly, putting your phone down to look back up at the movie on the screen.

Spanish: Mr. Dream (its mexican dream lol)

“AYYYY kids!”

You groaned as your Spanish teacher burst into the room.

“What is with this guy?” Tommy muttered.

“ayy man not cool.” Mr. Dream said.

“Mr. Dream your ten minutes late!” Someone pointed out.

“SHut up man. And I told you just call me Mexican Dream!” The teacher said.

You frowned, “That doesn’t make sense, theres no way your first name is ‘mexican’.”

“Well its not,” He explained, “But its cause I’m the Mexican version of that math teacher!”

“Why couldn’t I have taken French like Boo and Purp?” Tommy asked the ceiling quietly.

~~ Home ec: Miss Nihachu

The last block of the day was always the best, but not just because school would be over soon.

There were three main reasons why everyone agreed it was the best.

1. Miss Nihachu was the nicest teacher in school

2. baking was done often, and everyone always got to take some home

3. it was the one class you, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled all had together.

Soon your found yourself crowded into one of the tiny kitchen areas with all your friends, as Miss Nihachu gave instructions.

“Now, if you make a mess you will be cleaning it up! I’m looking at your kitchen a!” She said, half threateningly.

Ranboo pushed away from the group, “I’m not with them I swear!”

Miss Nihachu rolled her eyes playfully, “Sure your not.”

Surprisingly, a mess was not fully made.

Somehow between Tommy wanting to taste the cookie dough at every step from butter to flour, Tubbo trying to add as many chocolate chips as he could, and Purpled all but refusing to move from where he was sitting on the counter, you and Ranboo managed to get the cookies into the oven with no real disasters.

As you wiped down the empty counter space you sighed, “That wasn’t too bad.”

“Yeah.” Tubbo agreed.

Tommy only nodded, still eating the large glob of cookie dough he’d stolen.

Ten minutes before the bell rang and when everyone was supposed to be finishing cleaning up you sniffed the air suspiciously, “Why do I smell burning?”

Tubbo took a deep breath, “I smell it too.”

“Oh yeah, something is definitly burning.” Ranboo agreed.

You whirled to face Purpled, who was absently scrolling through his phone, “Purp you did set a timer right?”

#mcyt x reader #platonic!mcyt x reader #minors gang #teddy06 writes #teddy06

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aomine-ryo · 3 years

Note

Ah the requests are open! I'd like to request Aomine, Kise and Kagami reactions if their gf shouted 'i hate you' during an angsty argument. Of course she didn't mean but was very hurt. Thank you in advance and thank you for provoding KnB content 💙

Ah yes i love some good angst 😌 I hope you enjoy xx

Scenario: Kise, Aomine and Kagami’s reactions to their s/o shouting “I hate you” during an argument

Kise

Jealousy was an ugly emotion and you knew that. You generally never got that jealous with Kise though. Especially considering that he was constantly surrounded by other models and fangirls, you were surprisingly very chill with him. I mean, you couldn’t blame him, it came with the job. Plus you knew that you could trust him so it didn’t bother you as much as one would expect.

Recently though, Kise had been rather busy and he wasn’t able to spend as much time with you as he’d like. While that sucked in itself, he’d always be around other girls when you did have the time to spend with him, like during recess and after school when you walked together. And they were so obviously flirting with him, but he didn’t seem to have a clue.

You didn’t want to bring up though because you didn’t want to come off as a controlling person that restricted him from talking to others. So you ignored it for a while.

However, the amount of time he’d spend with you slowly lessened and lessened and eventually, on a particularly bad day, you finally snapped. You were meant to be walking home with him after school, so you waited for him at your usual spot by the school gates. But after a good ten minutes, he didn’t show up. Confused and slightly annoyed, you went back into the school in search of your boyfriend. While it didn’t take long to find him in the school courtyard, you began to wish that you didn’t because it just fuelled your already bad mood with rage.

He was just standing there with three other girls, laughing along with them as if he didn’t have somewhere else to be. You don’t get mad often- especially not in public- but your emotions had been building up for weeks and you were in an awful mood. Before you knew it, you were storming over to Kise.

“Y/N-cchi! I was just about to come meet you. Let me introduce—“

“Are you kidding me? Kise, I’ve been waiting for you for the past ten minutes and you were just chatting here?” you scolded, your volume causing all four of them to be taken aback. You shot the girls a glare, resulting in them excusing themselves to leave you two alone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the time go by,” he replied softly, hurt by the fact that you called him ‘Kise’ rather than your usual ‘babe’ or ‘Ryouta’.

“You’re the one who’s always too busy to spend time with me and now you’re here losing track of time with girls you barely even know!”

“They were just being friendly, what would people think of me if I just brushed them off?” he said defensively.

“Kise, they were far from just friendly. They were so obviously flirting with you. One of them had her hands all over you and you just fucking let her!” you yelled, becoming completely unhinged at this point.

“Y/N-cchi, you’re being ridiculous. Just forget about it. Come on, let’s just walk home, cool?” He said with a sigh, which only made you angrier.

“I’m not being ridiculous,” you said firmly, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” He snapped, finally losing his cool too. “That I’m sorry my life doesn’t revolve around you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant! Don’t try to turn this around on me,” you replied, letting the tears roll down your cheeks.

“That’s what it sounds like to me,” he shouted. You felt a pang in your heart at the way he raised his voice at you and you felt yourself finally get thrown off the edge.

“I can’t believe you right now! I hate you!”

Kise’s expression immediately fell at the sound of those words. It quickly made him realise the absurdity of what he was saying.

At that point, you were so frustrated that you decided to just walk away, wiping the tears with the back of your hand. It took a few moments but Kise’s footsteps soon followed you. “Y/N-cchi wait! I’m sorry!” He said, hastily grabbing your arm to stop you. It took him a second to realise that tears had begun to blur his own vision. “Please don’t hate me,” he said softly.

You paused for a moment, feeling bad that you had made him cry too. “I don’t hate you,” you muttered, hearing the word come out of his mouth made you realise how harsh it sounded. “I wouldn’t be this mad if I hated you.”

“I won’t talk to them anymore. And I promise I’ll make more time for you. Why don’t we go grab a coffee or something together?” Kise suggested, interlacing his fingers with yours while the other hand reached up to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“That sounds nice,” You sniffled with a smile, your anger and hurt finally subsiding. “I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. I was just scared that you’d think they were better than me.”

Kise pressed his lips against yours with nothing but care and tenderness, almost as if to reassure you that he was all yours without having to say a word. But just in case you didn’t understand, he smiled at you once his lips parted from yours, “You’re the only one I want. That won’t ever change- I promise.”

Aomine

As much as you loved Aomine, dating him came with a lot of work which could easily exhaust you if you didn’t have the patience that you do. He was dreamy, sweet and truly a piece of art in general, however he was also extremely lazy when it came to a lot of things. Homework, projects and reminding him of various commitments he had was amongst the various responsibilities you had taken on when you started dating him. For the most part, you didn’t care too much because you often managed to convince him to do it himself in the end, but there were times where he genuinely ticked you off.

One day in particular, you were rather exhausted after a long day at school and you were hanging out at Aomine’s house like you usually would. As he flipped through his gravure magazine next to you, you laid down on his bed, scrolling through your phone as a way to unwind. His phone began to ring, disrupting the peaceful silence that filled the room and he quickly picked it up. “Yo, what’s up?” he answered. “Oh shit that was today? I forgot... Fuck it. I’ll join some other time... Bye.”

Aomine put his phone down with an annoyed groan, making you curious as to what that conversation was about. “What’s wrong? Who was that?” you inquired, still scrolling absentmindedly.

“It was Kise. I was supposed to go play with him and the others today. Didn’t I tell you to remind me about it?”

“Oh right, you did. I’m sorry, it slipped my mind,” you replied.

Aomine clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Dammit, I wanted to play,” he whined.

You weren’t sure why— perhaps it was the tiredness— but you felt as though that comment was accusatory towards you and it sparked this feeling of anger within you. “Then maybe you should’ve remembered yourself,” you retorted, sarcasm oozing from your tone.

“Well if I could do that, I wouldn’t have asked you to remind me, would I?” Aomine replied, perfectly matching your tone, which made your blood boil.

“Why is that my responsibility? I’m constantly busting my ass trying to do shit for you. I’m your s/o, not your personal assistant, Daiki,” you snapped, your voice suddenly getting louder.

Whilst Aomine knew that you were right, his stubborn mind didn’t want to admit it. “If you had a problem with it, you could’ve just said so instead of making me miss out on my plans,” he said harshly.

“Oh so it’s my fault that you don’t have the mental capacity to remember things that go on in your own damn life?” you questioned sarcastically.

“Yes!” Aomine yelled back almost instantly without thinking.

You sat up and scoffed. “You’re despicable, Aomine. Go fucking play then. I’ll leave!”

“No, it’s too late now. I’ve missed it thanks to you,” he muttered, picking up his magazine again.

You narrowed your eyes at him in frustration as you angrily gathered your things. “I’m leaving. You’re the absolute worst. I hate you!” you shouted, clenching your jaw to stop yourself from crying.

Aomine froze upon hearing those words come out of your mouth. “You what?” he said softly, even though he heard you clear as day. He just couldn’t believe that you had actually said it.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, knowing you shouldn’t have said something so harsh when you didn’t even remotely mean it.

“You hate me?” he repeated, wondering whether his pride was really worth having you say words like that.

“I didn’t mean it. But you’re being ridiculous,” you said, still standing your ground.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, standing up and approaching you. “I’m being such a dick. I’ll sort my shit out- I swear. Just don’t say those words to me, please,” he said, holding your face in his palms and desperately looking into your eyes, unable to fathom how much those words stung. He didn’t even want to imagine a scenario in which you’d hated him because it would absolutely wreck him.

Looking into those pained blue eyes, you couldn’t help but melt as your frustration resided. “I won’t say it again. I’m sorry,” you whispered assuringly.

Aomine placed a kiss on your forehead and pulled you into a hug. “I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“I love you too, Daiki.”

Kagami

Kagami loved basketball. That was a given. You adored how passionate he was towards it and you it made you happy seeing how much he enjoyed the sport. However, sometimes you’d wonder if that was truly all he cared about. He’d spend almost all his time either at practice or playing around with his friends and he barely left any time for you anymore.

It had been a while since you’ve been able to spend time with Kagami and you had finally been able to get away with planning an afternoon with him after school at your place. You planned to cuddle up together with some snacks and watch a movie— it was going to be perfect. That whole school day you were incredibly excited; you walked around with a hop in your step and a smile on your face.

Finally, the end of the school day had arrived and you headed to meet Kagami outside school, like you’d agreed to. When you got outside, you saw him chatting with Kuroko and Hyuga but he quickly excused himself when he saw you approaching him.

“Hey beautiful,” he smiled.

“Taiga! I’m so excited for today,” you grinned, greeting him with a hug.

“Uh, about that,” Kagami paused and pulled away to rub the back of his neck nervously. Hearing those words alone made your smile quickly change into a disappointed frown. “The Winter Cup is around the corner and the team is gonna do a bit of extra practice today at the gym. Can I get a rain check on this date?”

“Are you serious?” you muttered, exasperation in your voice.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll make some time for you later,” he said.

“You say that, but you never do. You play basketball every single minute you get. Can you really not spare even a single afternoon for me?” you questioned softly, feeling a strange mixture of anger and hurt.

“Y/N, you know how important basketball is to me,” he replied, trying to meet your eyes but they were fixated on the floor.

“I do, but honestly, it seems like it’s the only importance in your life.”

“Don’t be like that. You know that you’re important to me too,” Kagami frowned, reaching to put an arm on your shoulder, but your frustration caused you to shove it away almost immediately.

“Well, you certainly don’t act like it,” you snapped back. “But whatever, go play I guess,” you shrugged, spite in your tone as you began to walk away.

“Y/N, don’t be mad at me— it’s childish,” Kagami called out, making you stop in your tracks. It was like he was asking you to get mad at him.

“Childish?” you repeated. “Kagami it’s not a fucking relationship if you’re not going to spend any time with me! I’ve been nothing but patient towards you playing basketball thinking that at some point you’ll set some time aside for me, but turns out you couldn’t care less about that!”

“We can talk about this later,” Kagami sighed, realising that you were in public. “I’m going to play. I’ll text you okay?”

“Don’t even bother texting me— you’re fucking outrageous,” you chuckled, finding it absolutely unbelievable how thick he was. “I hate you!”

Kagami felt his heart sink as he watched you storm off. Suddenly basketball became the least of his concerns. He couldn’t just leave things like this. It would absolutely wreck him. Almost instantly, Kagami rushed after you. “Y/N! Please wait!” he called out, quickly reaching for your hand to get you to stop.

While you did stop, you immediately pulled your arm away from him in anger. “What? Shouldn’t you be going to play?” you snapped, tears streaming down your face.

“That doesn’t matter. Just please, don’t leave things like this; don’t hate me,” he pleaded, feeling himself getting teary eyed upon seeing you crying.

You paused for a moment, realising the weight of the words you spat out in the heat of the argument. “I didn’t mean that,” you said softly. “I just hate how I never get to see you anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll just skip out on practice today,” Kagami said.

“You don’t have to do that. We can hang out some other time,” you sighed and sniffled, not wanting to guilt trip him into spending time with you.

“No, I want to spend time with you now. You’re right. I play basketball all the time anyways. I need to give you attention too,”he insisted, reaching for your hand again and giving it a tight squeeze.

“Alright,” you said, wiping the tears with the back your hand. “I’m sorry about saying that I hate you. That was stupid.”

To your surprise, Kagami pulled you into a tight hug, holding you as if he was going to lose you. “That scared me so much, Y/N,” he admitted, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you so much. I genuinely thought I’d lost you.”

“I love you so much too,” you said into his chest, hugging him back. “I guess I was scared I’d lose you to basketball or something.”

Kagami kissed the top of your head. “You won’t lose me, I promise.”

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #kuroko no basket x reader #aomine daiki #kise ryouta #kagami taiga #knb #kise ryota #generation of miracles

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willow-salix · 3 years

Text

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project, @misssquidtracy . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing.

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it.

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves.

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?”

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?”

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly.

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely.

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs.

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag.

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk.

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

“Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.”

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed.

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table.

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all.

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly.

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her.

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?"

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work.

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought.

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more.

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?"

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay.

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room.

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project.

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him.

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him.

"What are you even doing?"

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall.

"Why?"

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop.

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best.

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name.

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay.

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite.

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance.

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer.

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite.

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest.

"So, what are you doing?"

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting.

"The same one?"

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions.

"Why?"

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done.

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned.

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile.

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey."

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon.

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong.

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him. He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all.

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there.

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John.

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to.

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job.

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand.

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.”

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all.

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy. Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect.

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin.

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!”

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain.

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?”

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation.

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted.

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday.

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed.

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!"

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed.

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted.

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding.

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones.

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time.

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?"

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper.

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon.

"A ship?" Gordon frowned.

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see.

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life.

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience.

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted.

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together.

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue.

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

“Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly.

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room.

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand.

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.”

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there.

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk.

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him.

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it.

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him.

“Never,” Gordon agreed.

-x-

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other.

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father, but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all.

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body, especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy.

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole.

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end.

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time.

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect.

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered.

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer.

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell.

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat.

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles.

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary, feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with.

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John and things had never been the same again.

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

#tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanart #TAG Mini Bang 2021 #TAGMiniBang2021

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trashforhockeyguys · 3 years

Text

Don’t Hold Me -10- Carter Hart

A/N: Whoops. My fingers slipped. Don’t hate me. It’s not all that long either. Sorry.

Mentions of abuse.

There was a strange feeling in your gut as you watched Carter on the ice. Like you were being watched. But you’d been having that feeling for a few weeks now. Every time you left your dorm room, or simply walked anywhere, it was like someone was lurking just behind the corner of a building. You tried to credit it to you just being paranoid, he was still in the city. Ethan hadn’t seen him back home, no one had. As far as anyone knew, he was in Philly for business.

The crowd roared as Carter made a save, dumping the puck to Travis. You tried to watch, but you just couldn’t focus. You felt like sinking down again and making yourself as small as possible, maybe that way no one could see you. You honestly felt like you could just throw up. So much about being here just didn’t feel right.

Your hands shook as the time slowly ran down on the clock. As soon as time ran out, you couldn’t get out of there as fast as you could. You’d already texted your roommate to come get you. You didn’t want to wait for Carter, or Travis. You needed to get out of there.

“You okay?” She asked when you got into her car.

“I don’t know,” You replied, “I just...I don’t know.”

“Alright, we’ll, let’s get you home,” She put the car in drive, “Do you want me to drop you off at Carter’s?”

You shook your head, “No...I’ll text him and tell him I don’t feel well. I just want to go back to the dorm.”

It took no less than an hour for Travis to call you and ask if you were okay. Carter was unsure what to do, but Travis… he wanted to know automatically. You lied and told him you just ate something at lunch that didn’t settle well with you. You didn’t want to tell him how you felt, or how paranoid you were.

You caught yourself looking over your shoulder all the time. You tried to hide it and act normal around Carter. You’d gotten really good at it too. He didn’t question anything, no matter how uncomfortable you felt. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, because he cared more than you thought he could.

A lot of days, while he was home from practice, he’d watch you work on your homework, and ask questions about your art projects and your family. He wanted to know everything he could, all while knowing he could only push so far.

Days turned into weeks, and somehow you found a new normal. But life with Carter wasn’t what you’d expected. You trusted him, and you cared for him deeply….you probably even loved him. But you weren’t sure if you were really ready for something like this. And then there was the constant fear.

“Hey, earth to Y/N,” Travis snapped his fingers in front of your face, “Are you going to come or not?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Summer? I asked if you were still coming to Canada to the farm?”

Spending the off season with Travis was something you’d talked about since the start of the semester. You weren’t yet ready to go back home, and now it seemed like an even better idea.You didn’t even want to think about being home. You loved your family, but the idea of being back in that town made you want to be sick.

“Uh...yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Hey, you okay?” Travis sat down next to you, worry flooding his face.

“I think I saw him again.”

He cursed and tugged his hair, “Where?”

“At the last game,” you replied.

Your body started to shake. You hated that this was your life. You wanted to say that you were just imaging him, and it wasn’t actually the human being that made your life a living hell. But you knew it was, you saw him scanning the face of everyone that walked by him, just waiting for one of them to be you. You knew he was here for you.

“Damnit. Fuck.”

“He didn’t see me.”

It was a lie. He saw you the second you rounded the corner. But you were with a group of the girls. You had the families with you. He couldn’t get to you as long as you were in a group. You’d gotten a couple of them to agree to go back to the seats with you. You’d be safe as long as you stayed with them, you knew that. But you didn’t want Travis to know any of that. You didn’t want him to think that the arena wasn’t safe for you anymore. You didn’t want him to tell you that you needed to stay hidden.

“Jesus Christ,” He stood and started to pace his living room, “Dammit. He was supposed to be banned from the fucking building.”

Nolan seemed to pick that exact time to walk into the apartment, carrying lunch. Carter was meant to come over once he got off the phone with his agent. The plan was the four of us were going to have a movie night, since we hadn’t had the time to do something like this in awhile.

“What’s going on?” Nolan asked.

“He was at the fucking arena,” Travis looked like he was about to punch right through the wall in his living room.

“What? How the hell?”

“Can you two stop please!” You suddenly begged.

You pulled your legs up to your chest, forming a tight ball with your body. The need to be small was back. You wanted to just disappear. The walls felt like they were closing in on you. He knew where to find you. You were sure he was lurking on campus, just waiting for you to be alone.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Damnit, I have to call Ethan.”

“I didn’t tell you because you’d do this!” You yelled, getting up from your spot on the couch, “You’d want to lock me up in this stupid apartment, or my dorm. Or hell, you’d want me to go home.”

“Damn right I want you to stay! Does Carter know?”

“No! Travis! He doesn’t, and you aren’t going to tell him a damn word!” You yelled, ignoring the fact that Nolan was just watching all of this unfold, “We’re finally settling into whatever the hell this is. He’ll want me to stay hidden too! I’m done letting him control my life Travis!”

“He almost killed you Y/N!”

You flinched. The scars and ghosts of where bruises once were seemed to burn. You were suddenly aware of every spot his hands had once been. Every time you lied to cover for him. You took a step away from Travis. Any anger that you held melted away. He seemed to realize what he’d done, because his face slowly changed.

It was almost like he could see you slowly starting to relive every memory. Every single moment that you spent with him. He could see it all over your face. Suddenly Nolan was right by your side, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. Even though you knew it was him, you still flinched and shied away from him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry..”

“I know exactly what he did to me Travis,” Your voice was small, quiet. Any bit of fury and fight you had was gone, “I see it every time I close my eyes. I remember all of it.”

“Carter is outside, I told him you weren’t feeling well,” Nolan told you softly, “He said he’d take you back to his place.”

You nodded, but didn’t take your eyes off of Travis. You felt crushed in a way. He was your best friend, he should know not to mention things like that. He’d been there through it all, he knew how you felt about it. He knew that things like this were off limits for you, yet he did it anyway. He did it to try to prove a point.

“Y/N...Please.”

“Not now TK,” Nolan told him, grabbing your bag for you, “Just leave her alone.”

He led you outside and towards Carter, who was waiting for you outside. He was leaned against the hood of his car, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. He looked worried at the way that Nolan was having to lead you towards him.

You knew that he instantly knew something was wrong. You wondered if Nolan gave him any sort of heads up, or if he was just going in blind. But Carter reached for you the second you were close enough. He wrapped you in his arms, making you feel safe and warm.

“You got her?” Nolan asked, knowing full well Carter would do whatever he had to in order to make you feel safe.

“Yeah, I got her.”

The sound of his voice was so soft and loving. He was gentle and calm. So unlike what you’d once been used to. He made you feel safe, instead of afraid of your own shadow. But as much as you...as much as you loved the way he made you feel...you couldn’t help but wonder if you could really do this to him. Could you really drag him into your life?

“Can you take me home?”

You weren’t sure which home you were asking for. Did you really even have a home anymore? You didn’t feel safe in the town that you’d grown up in. He was everywhere. Reminders of what happened were everywhere. Philadelphia didn’t feel safe now, because he was here. You felt him watching you everywhere. Where was it that you were asking Carter to take you?

“Do you want some coffee? Or tea? I can make you something when we get back?”

You shook your head, not trusting words. You didn’t know what you wanted. But as much as you hated yourself for it, you knew that you wanted to stay close to him. Because above all else, he made you feel safe. Somehow, he made all of it just go away for a few seconds. And everything just seemed to be okay.

“Alright.”

“I just want you to hold me.”

He reached over to hold your hand. You didn’t fight him, or shy away. You wanted to feel him, you wanted him to ground you for just a moment. You loved the man sitting next to you. But you weren’t sure how long you could love him before you ended up dragging him down with you.

#Carter hart imagine #carter hart imagines #carter hart fanfic #carter hart fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #flyers imagine #flyers imagines #Philly flyers #Carter hart #nicolewritesthings

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eideticmemory · 4 years

Text

EVER SINCE NEW YORK II | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 2! Read Part 1 here.

Soundtrack:

Maps - Maroon 5.

Me & Ur Ghost - Blackbear.

Keep You Close - Frenship.

Word Count: 3,341.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, substance use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Sophomore Year.

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City.

“Okay, you know what?” You scoffed, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I give up. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Claire laughed from behind you, “You alright over there?”

“No,” you grumbled. You pressed down on the black frame, using all your might to make the command strip stick to the wall. Yet, when you stepped back, it would pop off of the surface, and your ballet poster was lopsided. It’d been a vicious cycle for 10 minutes. “This goddamn command strip won’t stick. What the fuck?”

“Okay, grumpy, step away from the poster,” Claire ordered, grabbing onto your shoulders and escorting you to the center of the room. “The room looks great, [y/n], why are you so stressed?”

“I am not stressed. I am frustrated, and those damn command strips aren’t cheap. I’m pissed.”

“Okay, staples queen, tell you what,” she sighed. “I will go buy you a pack of command strips and personally mount the poster myself, okay?”

You looked up at Claire, giving her a soft smile. “Did I win the roommate lottery or what?”

“Yeah, but better not say stuff like that too much. People are gonna start thinking we’re a different type of roommates.”

You laughed, and shook your head at her.

“[y/n], what’s up?” Claire asked. “You’ve been moody as fuck ever since we moved back in for the semester. Classes haven’t even started yet and you’re moping around. What’s going on?”

Well, Claire, you thought. I’m glad you asked. I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been dying to talk about it for a while. You see, I fucked my mortal enemy, and it was so good that I did it a second time. And no, I’m not talking about my cinematography professor, I’m talking about Matthew. Gubler. I fucked Matthew Gubler. Yes, I know. Hell has frozen over. Because I hated him. I hate him. I think he’s awful. Especially since he thinks it’s okay to fuck someone, ignore their existence, fuck them again, ignore their existence, and then leave them with a vague ass note? 505. 505! I’ve looked up every possible meaning of 505 that there is. The song, urban dictionary, numerology. And I can’t figure the shit out. And it doesn’t help that Matthew didn’t say a word to me over summer break. I’m just lost and confused and I know you would understand and you would know what to do.

But it’s Matthew.

And I can’t tell anyone. Especially you.

“Last semester was a royal disaster,” you sighed. “I just don’t wanna overwhelm myself again. Y’know with class, and shows, and parties. I wanna do right this semester, but it’s a little stressful. So, I’m a little stressed.”

Claire looked at you for a long time, eyebrows lowered and her eyes scanning your face. She had a gut feeling that you were lying, but didn’t wanna be a bitch. So she bit her tongue.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” she smiled.

Classes started that following Monday. Your first lecture was at 10 o’clock. And you woke up at 10:15. Having showered the night before, you brushed your teeth, put on your outfit and fixed your hair all in ten minutes and hiked it across campus in 4 minutes. You rushed up to the classroom door, and entered the lecture very calmly. People were scattered about in the auditorium, some towards the sides, a lot front and center. But only one person sitting in the very back row.

Matthew.

Too occupied with explaining yourself to your professor, you didn’t notice Matthew until a few minutes after entering. You refused to make eye contact with him, nervously staring at your feet as you walked over to him. And took a seat at his side.

“Hey.”

Those were the only words spoken for an hour and fifteen minutes. However, within 10 minutes of seeing you again, Matthew began to rub your thigh. His fingers grazed the top of your leg, slowly but surely making their way to your inner thigh. You held your breath, staring up at the professor the whole time and pretending to take notes.

When Matthew’s fingers pressed against your clit, you almost gasped. But you kept your mouth shut, stifling the sound. He smirked to himself, only glancing at you when you were too shaken up to notice. You propped up the screen of your laptop, hiding your face behind it so you could let out quiet moans. You were so sensitive, and very glad that you wore a skirt to class.

Matthew’s fingers slid your panties to the side and made skin to skin contact with your clit, applying pressure as he rubbed you. You exhaled for a long time, swear words wanting to fly out of your mouth instead. The professor’s words drowned out a long time ago, and at this point you didn’t care. You just needed to come.

Matthew remembered the way you liked to be touched, he had to. Because he was able to bring you to the edge so quickly, it was insane. You clenched your thighs around his wrist to signal your nearing release, and he grinned.

You rested your head on the keyboard of your laptop, hiding from everyone as you came. Your jaw dropped, and you had to stop yourself from groaning too loudly. Matthew removed his hand from under your skirt. He sucked on the tips of his fingers, just to get the taste of you on his tongue. Then, with only 2 minutes left in class, he packed up his stuff and walked out.

You should’ve dropped the class. At the very least, sat somewhere else. But you didn’t. You stayed in that course. With Matthew. In the back row. And wore skirts every other day for a month. Some days he would repeat the action, and some days he wouldn’t. It was like he could tell how desperate you were each time. And if you were really desperate, he simply didn’t touch you. It sucked, but it kept you on your toes.

He missed class one day, and to cope, you had a dream about him that night. You imagined him using his mouth on you, in an empty lecture hall, bending you over the desk, making you come. When you woke up, you were in a cold sweat. You couldn’t believe you were having thoughts like this about Matthew Gubler. But you were.

You hopped out of bed, put on your slippers, and left the room to go to the vending machines. Holding a soda and some candy, you walked back to your dorm room silently. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, you turned your head down the hall to see Claire walking out of someone’s room. She noticed you and rushed up to you with a big smile.

“Hey!” She beamed. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t sleep. Where you been?”

She sighed happily, “I’ve been doing adult things, [y/n], I cannot lie.” She wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your room. “I’m in love, kid. It’s crazy.”

“You’re in love? With who?”

“Ah, that will soon be revealed, my dear [y/n].”

That weekend, you two invited everyone to come hang out at your dorm. Someone was able to swipe some liquor, and it was a party. A handful of people, getting a little tipsy, music in the background. Claire insisted Matthew be invited, but you weren’t expecting him to show up. But of course, he did. Because he’s a nuisance.

He laid down on Claire’s bed and she sat beside him, the two of them quickly joining the conversation at hand. You tried not to look like a kicked puppy, tried not to pout, to sulk, to watch. But inch by inch, second by second, Claire moved closer to Matthew, until by the end of the night, her head was on his chest.

That Monday, you sat in the front of the class.

And every class after that for the next month.

Missing your daily release, you became cranky and nasty and moody. You didn’t mean to, but that’s how it happened. To help you get over the nagging feeling, you went out one Saturday night. A group of friends dragged you along to a dorm party in the next building over. You used it as an excuse to dress up, ignore your homework and get some fresh air. In a tight purple dress, you walked into the booming dorm. It was packed, smelled like booze and filled with heat.

A cup of vodka in your hand, it wasn’t until about two hours in that you realized you didn’t want to party. You sat on the couch the whole time, fiddling with your hands and the hem of your dress. You’d drank an entire solo cup of alcohol by then, and you were starting to get tired. Your friends had gotten lost a long time ago, and you knew it was fruitless to look for them. So, you picked yourself up and started to head for the exit.

“[y/n]!”

You turned around to see a guy walking towards you. Jonathan. “Hey, John, what the hell is going on?” You asked, noticing him supporting another guy on his shoulder. His friend was a drunken, sloppy mess, and could barely stand.

“Our boy Steve here had a little too much to drink,” John replied. “I’m taking him back to his room. You going back to your place?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I am.”

“Okay, do you mind helping me with him? Please? I’ll give you a dollar.”

You laughed, shook your head and put your arm around Steve’s waist. “Ooh, a dollar! Sounds exciting.”

It was cold, and you shivered on the way back to your dorm building. Steve only lived down the hall from you, so helping wasn’t too far out of the way for you. John used Steve’s key to let the three of you into Steve’s suite, guiding both of you to Steve’s room.

You both worked together to lay Steve down on his mattress. You covered him with his blanket.

“You’re a lifesaver,” John told you. “We both are actually.”

“Maybe we should start a business. We escort drunk people home for a small fee of $100.”

He laughed, “I’m in as long as you dress like that every time.”

You blushed, and ducked your head down to hide it.

“What’s going on in here?” A voice called to you two.

You looked up at the threshold to see Matthew standing there, looking sleepy, disheveled, shirtless, and beautiful.

“Hey, Gube,” John greeted. “[y/n] and I were just dropping Steve off. Kid couldn’t hold his liquor.”

Matthew scoffed, “You could’ve left him there. Let him get dicks drawn on his face.”

“Well, aren’t you full of love?” John laughed. “No, seriously, I’ve gotta text Lindsey and let her know I’m staying in for tonight.” He padded at his pocket, followed by a loud groan, “Fuck, I left my phone at the party. Fuck me.”

“That’s a higher power trying to tell you that you need to stay out longer,” Matthew said.

John smirked at him, “You’re right. Wonderful insight, Gubler.”

John walked out of the door, heading for the exit, and you followed him, avoiding eye contact with Matthew. As the two of you approached the front door, you froze. John exited the suite, not noticing that he was leaving you behind. And you would’ve moved if you had the power.

Hanging on the door of the suite was the room number: 505.

Your breath caught in your throat. 505. The room number. The room number of the suite you saw Claire leaving that day. 505.

“What took you so long?” Matthew asked, standing behind you.

You released your breath, goosebumps crawling on your skin as you felt him get closer to you. Your heart raced, your body trembled. You had a physical response to being near this boy. It was intense.

“I’m not doing this, Matthew,” you whispered.

“Doing what? We’re just talking.”

You turned around to face him, suddenly very angry, “No! You know what I’m talking about! You know what I’m talking about! And it’s gone on for long enough, Matthew. I’m out!” You kept your voice quiet, but still aggressive. You turned to exit the dorm, but he grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him.

“Listen, Princess Peach,” he said.

“Fuck you—“

“Listen. I don’t know what your deal is, but I do know that I miss you—“

“You’re full of shit. You just wanna fuck.”

“That’s what I said. I miss you. I mean, for such a short person, your pussy packs a punch.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Face it,” he murmured. “You may hate me, but your pussy doesn’t.”

Your body melted into his at the sound of his voice. The feeling of his hands running down your body, landing on your thigh. “Just admit it. Or tell me to stop.” His fingers trailed under your dress, the tips grazing you through your panties. Your head rolled back at the gentle touch and he took that as an invitation to kiss your neck.

“Cmon, shortcake, tell me to stop,” he mumbled. “Tell me to stop.”

You responded by wrapping your hands around his throat, using all your strength to push him out the living room couch. He chuckled under his breath, stumbling back onto the cushion and pulling you into his lap.

“Oh, you gonna choke me?” He asked, his voice coming out strained. “Okay, princess, you hate me so much? You can’t stand me?” He pushed his pants down to reveal his erection. “Fuck me like it then.”

You crashed your lips onto his and pushed him back onto the couch, reaching down to grab his cock. You pulled your panties to the side and teased him against your core, moaning as his tip rubbed against your clit. You sank down onto his dick, feet pressed into the couch, hands holding his neck.

He stared up at you as you fucked him — fast and careless. Swear words fell off of his lips uncontrollably, his hands pawing at your breast. Your boobs fit perfectly in his palm and he was obsessed. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to stay quiet, grunting into his mouth.

“F-fuck,” he panted. “Wait, wait.”

You leaned in and kissed him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You made sure to stay silent, giving no indication that you were experiencing so much pleasure.

“H-hey — shit, fuck,” he groaned. “Wait.”

Matthew placed his hands on your ass, his eyes closed tight, his body tensing up as you rode him into the wall. “Oh, fuck!” He exclaimed, and lifted you off of his cock. Quickly, just in time for him to release all over his stomach. He panted, he quivered, he mumbled soft, dirty words. Whispered something about you.

As pretty a sight as it was, you refused to sit there and stare. So, you stood up, pulled the hem of your dress down. And this time, you left. Not a word said. Nothing.

Matthew followed you on instagram that night. You didn’t accept the request for a week, and when you did, you didn’t follow him back. He tried to add you on snapchat, but you declined it. You continued to sit far away from him in class, giving him no access. He brought you a drink at a party once and you asked for water instead. When he returned with the water, you had already left.

He had met his match. You dominated him, successfully, fearlessly, and without even trying. He wanted more. But you liked to watch him so squirm, so you didn’t give in.

Christmas break rolled around, and instead of focusing on the actual holiday, you and your friends planned your first spring break vacation. A group of you would head to South Beach for the week, and stay at a relative’s beach house.

You sat on your bed, trying to map out the cost of the trip. “So it’s me, you, the four of them...Claire, are you listening to me?”

“Is this a good Christmas gift for Matthew?”

You turned your head to her quickly, “Huh?”

“This,” she held up the book - The Magic Encyclopedia. “You think Matthew will like it?”

“Claire,” you sighed. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing simping over this boy? Buying him gifts? This isn’t you, Claire.”

“Leave me alone, [y/n], okay? We’re just friends. And he told me he bought me a gift so I got him one. Jeez, do you have to hate him so much?” She pouted, dropping the book into a gift bag.

“Um, actually, yeah I do,” you nodded. “He’s a dick.”

A knock rang at the door, and as Claire hopped up, she pointed her finger at you, “That’s him. Do not pick a fight.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to planning. Matthew stepped into the room, carrying a bag in one hand. He used his other hand to cup Claire’s face and give her a small kiss on the cheek. “Santa Claus is here!” He exclaimed.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Claire pleaded, reaching for the gift bag.

“Wow, Claire, I’m hurt. You’re so materialistic.” He chuckled.

“Oh, please, Gube,” she scoffed. “Give me my gift.”

“Okay,” he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box, wrapped into festive paper. “I got this for you, Claire,” he handed her the box. “And I even got something for your roommate here.”

You picked your head up, face ridden with confusion. Matthew licked his lips as he held the gift out to you, “I saw it and I couldn’t help myself. Merry Christmas, short stack.”

“Aw, Gube!” Claire squealed. Matthew let her tuck herself under his arm and hug him. “You’re so sweet.”

You stared at the tiny box in your hands, feeling it’s weight. “Thanks...” you whispered.

“Here, open what I got you,” Claired ordered Matthew, stepping over to her bed and grabbing the gift bag. She handed it to him with a wide smile, and giggled as he reached inside.

“Wow!” He cheered, holding the book in his hand. “Holy shit, Claire. This is incredible, thank you!”

“I knew how much you wanted that book so I remembered to get it,” she said. “So, I hope your gift for me is as impressive.”

“It is.”

As the two of them spoke, you opened up your own gift, quietly, hiding it behind your pillow. Claire unwrapped Matthew’s gift, and squealed. “Shut up! Where did you find this film?”

“Amazon!” he replied. “That fancy camera of yours only takes a certain type of film so I wanted you to be stocked.”

You pulled the item out of the box, focused on figuring out what it was. It was cold, metallic, and shone under the light as it was revealed.

“Oh, Gube!” Claire pulled him into a hug. “This is incredible!”

It was an antique. A silver polished miniature ballerina, perched on a pedestal. There was a knob on the side, and when turned, the ballerina twirled. It was precious.

You looked over at Matthew and Claire, watching as they broke out of their hug and looked at each other. “I expect a bunch of pictures when I get back,” he told her, backing out of the room.

“And I expect a professional magician,” she winked. Yuck. Claire turned her head to you after Matthew left, grinning, “What’d he get you?”

You quickly pushed the ballerina back in the box, shaking your head. “Socks. Mismatched socks. Very funny.” You replied.

She giggled, “But hey, a gift! That’s growth!”

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled.

“Matthew’s great,” She said. “You’ll get to know him better soon, since he’s coming to the beach with us.”

“He’s what?”

[PART 3.]

#mine #college!matthew #matthew gray gubler/reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg smut #mgg x reader #esny

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thetiredbiwrites · 4 years

Text

And then...

Dad!Tony x Son!Reader

(mentions of Uncle Rhodey)

Anon: // hello can you do angsty tony x Son reader. Tony and reader has strained relationship and they we're not in good terms, Tony prefer Peter than his son but it got change when both of them got kidnapped, they been together for a few days and slowly they reconciled. Soon they got save by the avengers but the Son Reader notice that one kidnapper pulled a weapon to Tony then R save his father, he got shot then Tony is scared to see his son dying. Its up to you the ending. ☺

A/N: Thank you for the Tony request 🤗🤗 Hope this is ok! (I love dad!Tony, I think he’d be so good...even though this fic is on a different note🤔😂)

Warnings: Cliff hanger end. It was getting pretty long and I wanted to upload something before bed (which also means it hasn’t been checked but oh well, I’ll re-read it tomorrow) BUT I do plan on doing a part 2 :)

(Also swearing, just always assume swearing)

Words: 3100+

Tony’s relationship with his son had always been strained. Ever since he was practically dumped on his doorstep at 4 years old.

Tony had no prior knowledge that he has a kid, none of the women he’s been with had ever even told him they were pregnant. But if he was being honest with himself, it didn’t surprise him. With the way he got around it was bound to happen eventually.

He just wished he’d known from the beginning.

Having a 4 year old left in his care with no warning put him in a whole new territory he was completely unprepared for.

A baby gives you time to prepare and are essentially a ‘blank slate’ at birth. A 4 year old has experiences, like and dislikes, routines, a connection to someone who abandons them with a stranger…

At the time, Tony was still a playboy, out at events and travelling a lot. As well as CEO of a company manufacturing weapons for the military. He didn’t have time for a child. To break through recently arisen trust and abandonment issues and build a relationship.

He cared about his son. Always made sure he had everything he needed or wanted, a good education and was in good health. But forming personal, emotional connections can’t be done with money, and Tony could barley cope with his own true emotions.

It quickly became clear that they did not share talents or interest in maths, sciences or mechanics. His son struggled especially with maths and Tony initially really did try to help, finally thinking something was in his element and he could bond.

But elementary (followed by middle and high) maths was so simple and automatic for Tony’s brain that he found it difficult to slow down and explain the process to the young boy.

He hired a tutor in his place.

That’s not to say Tony expected or needed his son to be a genius in the same subjects as him. He didn’t need his son to follow him (or his father) to be worthy of his time. But it would have made it easier.

Instead, his son excelled in English and arts, and was amazing in the kitchen. He loved to write stories, create pictures to accompany them and experimenting with new recipes.

Unfortunately, Tony did not excel in these areas, thus distancing them further.

At least he wasn’t taking after his father though. He didn’t force his son into one path or degrade him. No forcing him to grow up, giving him alcohol at a ridiculously young age or sending him away to be completely alone.

Tony often wondered himself if he’d have taken the path he did if his father hadn’t pushed him. If he’d be the same person without the verbal abuse and constant neglect of his father.

He wasn’t blind to his emotional distance and lack of bond to his son. Or to the connection the boy had to both Rhodey and Pepper. He could see that his son was connect to the two people he trusted the most and he was glad.

When Rhodey was available, being in the air force meant he wasn’t always around, he made sure to take the boy out, go to school events and even read his stories, giving feedback and support.

Pepper made herself available if he ever needed to talk and was always willing to taste test.

Even Happy was around to take him where he needed to go, training in the gym and joke with.

So even if the young boy didn’t have a relationship with his father, he had adults around to support and love him and help him through life.

It didn’t stop him wishing he did have a relationship to his father though.

While MIA in Afghanistan, Tony realised he wanted to try harder to build a relationship to his nearly teenaged son.

It didn’t happen.

He returned home and completely changed his company, which required a lot of time. His guilt also led in him to putting on that damn suit and trying to save the world.

And then he nearly died from palladium poisoning.

And then New York was attacked by aliens and the avengers were formed.

And then Tony had PTSD; anxiety, panic attacks and nightmares.

And then ‘terrorists’ blew up their house and nearly killed Happy and Pepper.

And then murderous robots.

And then the avengers broke up.

And then Tony worked with the UN to amend the accords and set up more help and cleaning crews. Back to lots of travelling.

And then…

And then… Peter.

It never eased up and his son turned 18.

His son made excuses over the years. He genuinely was busy and obviously struggled with relationships. Maybe he’s just not paternal? You can’t blame someone for trying to save lives either.

Of course he was aware it isn’t all on Tony, he could have tried harder to bond with his father as well.

But then Peter came along.

Scientifically and mathematically gifted Peter.

Superhero Peter.

Enthusiastic, smart and funny 15 year old Peter.

And then Tony had the time.

He made the time.

For Peter.

To talk to him. Help with his homework and superheroing.

Teaching him. Training him.

They spent a lot of time in the workshop and lab.

Tony was always so interested in what Peter had to say. Whether is was about science or mechanics, school, spider-man or even teenage romance.

It came so easily and naturally to Tony.

He had the time.

Even the team had noticed this relationship and dubbed them ‘Iron-Dad and Spider-Son’.

That hurt.

The time he overheard Clint comment, ‘why couldn’t we have had dad-Tony this whole time?’ really stung.

Tony’s been a dad, to a son, the entire time he’s known the avengers.

He didn’t hate Peter though. It’s not his fault and he’s actually perfectly nice. But to see his father so easily bond with another kid in a short time made him realise that he’d never get that father-son relationship.

Tony is paternal. Just not for him.

His eyes fluttered open, the ground cold against his face.

Wait, ground? What-

A groan passed his lips as he sat up, pressing a hand to the side of his head where pain radiated.

He blinked the fuzziness from his eyes, trying to remember how he got there, but the last thing he could recall was leaving the Stark Industries event after supporting Pepper.

The room was dull and very basic. With stone walls and floor, no windows, one dim light and two metal framed beds so rusty they would probably break under his weight.

As he glanced back down to the ground, he noticed another body in the room. They were still slumped on the ground and back to him.

Scrambling across the floor, he pushed on the mans shoulder to lay in on his back and see his face.

Dad?

Quickly he checked for a pulse and when he was satisfied with the regular thumping, he moved away, letting out a sigh of relief.

With his back to the wall, arms resting on his bent knees, he waited.

It was only a short while later when Tony began to wake. Groaning and sitting up in the same manner his son had moments earlier.

“Oh God, what the hell-where am I?” He mumbled, clearly unaware he wasn’t alone.

“I was hoping you’d know the answer”

Tony’s head snapped over at the grumbled voice to see his son.

“Y/N. What- what are you doing here?”

“hell if I know. Can’t imagine why anyone would take me. I generally don’t piss people off and I’m neither an Avenger or a tech genius.”

“Maybe they mistook you for me” Tony joke, completely oblivious to his sons disinterested and cold tone.

He shuffled back to lean against the opposite wall as his son scoffed.

“Sorry kid, you got the Stark looks.”

“Yeah, that’s all I got” the young man mumbled, leaning his head back on the wall, closing his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

Silence fell between them until the door opened.

The two men rose to their feet as two armed guards entered the room, a third following with a tray of unappealing food and bottled water.

Neither Stark was acknowledged as the tray was placed on one of the beds and they turned to leave. They even ignored Tony’s incessant questioning and cocky attitude.

His son stayed silent, taking on of the bottles as he sat back on the floor, still not ready to trust the beds.

“Could they just answer a simple question? They got to have a fucking reason for this.”

“Whatever it is I wish they’d just hurry up with it.”

“What, are you bored? Got places to be?” Tony asked, before taking his seat back on the floor.

“Yes, actually. I have an interview Monday and I’m not ready.”

“An interview? What for?”

“Like you actually care.”

“Hey, that’s not-“ Tony began to object but his son looked over at him and cut him off.

“Unless it’s about Peter or Superhero shit, you don’t want to know. You haven’t magically become interested, you just don’t like the silence and unfortunately I’m the only one here. You never cared about what was actually happening in my life before, why start now?”

Tony stared at his son in shock. It’s hard to make The Tony Stark speechless, but right now he had no words at all.

As his son dropped his head back to the wall, looking away from him, Tony couldn’t take his eyes off his son.

Thoughts ran through his head as he examined his son, becoming aware of how little he really did know.

-When did he get so tall? Not tall-tall though, definitely the Stark gene at work there.

-That suit makes him look so grown up, even if those a-holes took our jackets and shoes. Why did they take our shoes? No. Not important. Focus.

-I care about my son. Come on Tony, think. Something.

-School? Crap, when did I last even read a report card? He’s always aced English. Didn’t he do band? No, shit, that was Peter. Goddamnit, is he right?

“You’re 18.”

“Well done. You want a medal?”

“Is the interview for college?”

His son still didn’t move, wouldn’t even look at him.

“Please, Y/N. I-I know I’ve not really been… present in your life. But I do care about you.”

“Do you?” His eyes burned long repressed anger and Tony prepared himself for everything that was coming. He knew he’d deserve it too.

“You gave up so easily. It was too hard to bond with your idiot son, a shy kid who couldn’t understand simple maths. You’d rather be with women and go to parties, and the company always came first. All you did was throw money at things. For year I was fine with it, you using money to help me. I had more than more. It was clear you struggled with relationships of any kind and I was just dumped on you with no warning. It was fine because I had Rhodey, Pepper and Happy. They were there to talk to, they taught me things and supported me, Rhodey would go to school events whenever he could. I just figured maybe you’re not a paternal person. Then you became Iron Man and started saving the world and I can’t be mad about that.”

Tony stayed silent and watched as his son stood up, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace.

“Then you met Harley and kept in touch with him. You upgraded his garage into a high-tech lab. But he did help you save Pepper and the President so I guess you owed him and I didn’t let it bother me. It wasn’t until Peter came along that I noticed that you are one of the most naturally paternal people I know. You became his father figure, took him in so quickly, bonding immediately. If he needed help, you were there. He wanted to talk, you listened. Whether it’s out being Iron Man and Spider-man, training him, helping him with his school work or just locking yourselves in the workshop for hours building new shit. You’re always there for him. He witters on about some stupid crush for 25 minutes and you hang on every word. But you couldn’t do that for me?! What, did I need to be a genius at maths?! Interested in building extravagant technology?! Would you have noticed me then? You know, you went to Peter’s science show last month but you’ve never been to any of my school events. It was always Rhodey, Pepper and Happy a couple times, or no-one. But never you.”

The young man stared at his father, chest heaving, eyes burning as he held back tears. Yet Tony said nothing. He couldn’t take his eyes off his son. Lips parted and eyes glistening with unshed tears, he just sat, no words coming out.

“Yeah I’m 18 any yeah it’s a college interview. I graduate in a few weeks, Rhodey’s going. I’ve already been accepted to a couple colleges. Only a few months and I can leave.”

He didn’t give Tony a chance to respond as he risked the bed, laying down and facing the wall as he focused on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Behind him, his father watched on as tears fell down his face, guilt taking over his whole being.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night. While his son eventually fell asleep, Tony stayed on the floor, thinking through everything his son told him and looking back over the years.

The following morning, two guard came in and took Tony away.

They brought him back a few hours later, unharmed. The younger Stark watched as Tony worried his bottom lip and fussed with his clothes. He noted the troubled look on his father’s face and it was clear that whatever the kidnappers told him wasn’t good at all.

But he remained silent.

Eventually Tony settled, sitting on the floor again. But the two still didn’t speak for a few more hours.

“I’m sorry,” Tony finally broke through the silence and tense atmosphere of the confined space.

His son remained silent but his eyes moved up to look at him. This was enough of an acknowledgement that he was listening and so Tony continued.

“You might not believe that, but I am. I don’t know why it was so hard or why it was so easy with Peter. I didn’t- It wasn’t intentional, I didn’t even realise.”

The young Stark kept his eyes on his father but his face stayed blank and lips sealed.

“And you know, just because maths and science subjects didn’t come naturally to you doesn’t mean you’re an idiot. I’ve never once thought you were. I know the Stark name has become so tied to them, mechanics, advanced technology and engineering… but it doesn’t mean you’re not…good enough? Because you don’t follow that. I never thought you should have been, it didn’t-didn’t disappoint me or anything. But you were always so talented in arts, you wrote the most amazing stories and a complete natural in the kitchen. Things I’m not so great at. It just made it harder for me to figure out how to connect. I didn’t know where to start.”

A small smile flashed across his face, eyes glazed as he recalled the past.

“Y’know, I loved those stories about the uh, the dragons that live on your shoulder. I’d find drawings and paintings of them all over the house, and it was a big house!”

Across from him, his son’s head raised a little higher, eyebrows subtly furrowing and looked at the soft expression on his father’s face. He had no idea Tony even know about those.

“I should have been there, tried harder. There’s no excuse for that. But I have always cared. You were just so talented in things I didn’t understand. Then I saw how close you and Rhodey became and-“

Tony let out a sigh, looking away from his son.

“You were left with me, an egotistical ass and a- a playboy. I didn’t think I deserved you. You deserved someone better. Someone emotionally available and mature. Someone to help you grow into an amazing person and progress your talents. Someone like Rhodey. He deserved you and you him. He was -and is- better for you. You were loved and supported by him, and then Pepper and Happy, so I – I thought you’d be ok. That you wouldn’t need me.”

Once again it was all quiet in the small room. This time Tony wouldn’t look at his son, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his father.

“I did need you.”

His voice was raspy as he admitted this to not only Tony but himself.

“Rhodey’s the best. I love him. Couldn’t have asked for a better Uncle. But that’s what he is; my Uncle. You were supposed to be my Dad. I shouldn’t have had a father figure when my father was right there. You were so cool, before and after becoming Iron Man. You made everything around you seem like fun. I didn’t understand the tech crap but- I’m an artist. I can, and did, design things. It’s not all on you, I didn’t make it easy.”

“You were a kid, it is on me. But, maybe- When we get out of here I’ll do better. I want to be an active part in your life. I also understand if it’s too late though.”

“It’s not. It’ll take time but, I’d like that. Rhodey might get jealous though.”

A huffed laugh slipped past Tony’s lips as they spread into a smile on his face when his son cracked a grin.

They continued to talk into the night, about school, which colleges and courses, friends and dating. Once they started they couldn’t stop.

It is hard to shut up a Stark.

They were laughing about one of Tony’s stories of his time in MIT with Rhodey when an explosion shook the room.

The men stood up and faced the door as the sounds of fighting and yelling grew nearer. A smirk spread on Tony’s face as he recognised the noises of his teammates.

It wasn’t long before the door was broken down and Captain America stood in it’s place.

“Bout damn time. Did you stop for coffee?”

“Yeah, yeah, tin man. You’re welcome.” Hawkeye quipped as they walked down the halls.

Rhodey broke through to get to his nephew’s side, checking him over and ensuring he was ok.

Tony led the group to the main room. The kidnappers had access to files and tech that would be too dangerous to leave.

As Tony wiped everything, quips flowing between him and his teammates, none of them noticed the man sneak in through another door.

The younger Stark moved before his brain could even process what was happening, placing himself between his father and the gun that was raised to his back.

*bang*

#tony stark x reader #platonic tony stark x reader #platonic!tony stark x reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark x son #tony stark imagine #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

The Marriage Project (4)

Hi everyone! Sorry this came late! I was soooo busy this week that I had to push this chapter back but I’m hoping to drop chapter 5 on Friday next week like normal. As listed in the warnings, this chapter has some heavier topics than the other 3 but the scene is relatively mild and not too descriptive.

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2808

Warnings: Mentions of verbal s*exual harassment, mentions of fighting/injury, strong language, angst

% approximately the last weekend in September %

You sat at the back of the team bus on the way to the hotel, since the tournament was all day Saturday. You shared a row with Julia and was working on some calculus homework and listening to music while she talked to someone across the aisle.

When you finished, you took out your headphones and looked over at her. She was now playing on her phone.

“Hey, do you wanna bunk together tonight? I don’t feel like sharing a bed with Emily this week.” you whispered, making sure the freshman sitting a few rows up couldn’t hear you.

“Yeah sure. I was actually gonna ask you the same anyways.”

You were one of only two seniors on the team, so you and the other senior, Anna, were asked to split up and chaperone the girls whose parents weren’t coming to the tournament. Both of your rooms had three other people.

Once the team got checked into the hotel, you all went to dinner at a nearby chain restaurant where you, Julia, Anna, and a few other girls sat at a table together joking around.

After dinner, the team headed back to the hotel and were allowed to either hang in the lobby or your rooms, so long as you weren’t disruptive and stayed in pairs. You stayed in the lobby for a while but decided to go prepare for bed around 10.

Julia tagged along as your buddy, not saying much as you rode the elevator up.

After changing and brushing your teeth, you sat at one corner of the bed looking into a wall-mounted mirror as you combed your hair to pull it into a braid. Julia had been watching the TV when she piped up.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” you didn’t look back at her.

“What’s going on between you and Tom?”

You paused mid-braid, then continued.

“What do you mean?” your brows furrowed as you finished off the braid, wrapping the end with a hair tie.

“It’s just… you guys have seemed super close lately, and Sam said you’re at their house pretty much every weekend now. I thought you guys hated each other or something.”

You turned your body to look at her.

“Uhhhh we definitely still hate each other. We’re just partnered up for this semester-long marriage project in home ec. It’s whatever.”

“Oh. Okay then. It just seemed like something else I guess.”

Something else?

“Wait, what are you trying to say? Do you think we’re, like, dating or something?”

“Well you guys go to almost every one of each other’s games. And Sam said their mom loves you so it just seemed like… I don’t know.”

“Whoever thinks we more than hate each other is wrong. Just the idea of him and I together grosses me out so much. Once this semester is over, he and I probably won’t speak to each other again until the day I’m chosen valedictorian over him.”

“Okay, well, I’ll let Sam kn-”

She was cut off by the sound of the door opening as the two freshman girls who were taking the other bed came in giggling.

Glad to finally be out of that conversation.

After a few more random conversations, you all decided to go to bed and rest up for the tournament early the next morning.

It’s when you rolled over onto your side to face the wall that thoughts of your conversation with Julia began racing. Did people really think something other than a fake marriage was going on with Tom?

Exhaustion got the best of you before you could dwell on it further.

You sat in calculus Monday morning listening to the announcements. Your name and a couple others were listed off from the winning sports. The team had won, and you’d gotten tournament MVP.

The class congratulated you, so you jokingly did a royal wave around the room, stopping to look at Tom.

“That’s how it’s done. You guys may have won too, but I think I beat you out this time.”

“Yeah, good job.”

What. Why was he congratulating you?

“Uhhh. You don’t have anything else to say? No insult, no witty clapback? Who are you and what have you done to the Tom Holland I know and hate?”

He shrugged.

“I just don’t have anything negative to say. I mean, you got MVP and the team won. That’s pretty impressive.”

Now you knew something was up. In all your years of knowing Tom, he’d never been this nice. Sure, he’d sometimes say “nice shot!” when you scored more than one goal in soccer but he usually was able to find a way to pick on you at the same time.

You were working on a new sewing project in home ec later, sharing what happened with Alexis.

“Maybe he’s just not feeling well or something? He probably just couldn’t think up something fast enough,” she suggested.

“You don’t get it, Lex. It was so not like him. After Thursday, and what Julia said Friday night, something weird is going on, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

Wondering if anything was out of the ordinary with him now, you looked over to where he was, only to find him looking back at you.

Weird.

In senior art that afternoon, you worked on an acrylic beach landscape you’d been doing with a palette knife.

You were listening to music and intently focused when you felt a presence loom over you and noticed a hand resting on either side of you.

You ripped out an earbud and turned to see Tom leaning over your seated position, looking at your artwork.

“What the- Tom! What in the hell are you doing?” you pushed him off you and he stepped next to your chair, arms folded over his chest.

“Just looking to see how you were doing, princess. I think it needs a sailboat.”

“Okay first of all I’m not even done but like… why were you leaning over me like that? I was kinda in my zone there.”

He uncrossed his arms and pointed one had around the canvas.

“Well I was mostly coming over to say you had a little something right,” he poked a finger from his other hand onto your nose, leaving a dot of paint, “there.”

“Thomas Holland. If you don’t get the hell away from me and my artwork right this second I will literally beat you up in front of this entire class. You know it’s true too.” you threatened through grinding teeth.

“Are we having a problem over here?” your art teacher interjected, causing you to both look at her. You pointed at your nose.

“Mr. Holland here doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

“Tom. You know how I feel about messing around with art supplies. Now go sit down, you still have a lot to go on your own painting.”

He sighed and headed back to his seat.

“Y/n, why don’t you go wash that off real quick. I’ll keep an eye on your canvas for you.”

You got up, brushing past Tom. First, he’d been super nice this morning, and now he was putting paint on your nose like a little kid?

It was infuriating to think about.

Wednesday, it was like he was even worse.

He flipped between being the nicest guy ever to trying to humiliate you every chance he got.

The final straw was during your free period when you’d typically have volleyball practice (it was a game day). You’d walked by some of the football team who were practicing on the field and some players tried to catcall you, yelling disgusting sexist comments and whistling. Instead of sticking up for you, Tom just looked at you sheepishly as they laughed.

You just stuck up a middle finger and kept walking, as you were running errands for your volleyball coach and didn’t want to be too long.

After school, you stormed out of the school building and caught sight of him leaning against his car talking to a few of the guys from before as his brothers stood around nearby.

When you were about 20 feet away when you yelled out at him.

“Hey Tom! What the hell?”

His conversation paused and he turned to you. The other guys laughed and waved him bye as you approached.

“I’m sorry, but what?” he asked when you reached his car. You tossed your volleyball bag onto the asphalt.

“What is wrong with you? First you’re super nice to me, then I catch you staring at me in class and then the whole paint thing, and that was just Monday. Then today you flip from nice to asshole, and just sit idly by when your friends fucking harass me!?”

“I was just messing around like we always do! And come on, it was just a whistle and a couple jokes, y/n.”

“That’s the thing! It’s not just a whistle or a joke! Call it that when you read the countless stories of women who are attacked for simply ignoring a guy or trying to stand up for herself! I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOU AND EVERY OTHER MAN FOR SOME SIMPLE RESPECT!” you were yelling and breathing hard. “I guess I thought that after the past few weeks we had come to some kind of an understanding, but apparently I was wrong. You’re still the biggest asshole I know.”

“Y/n, please. You know I would never do anything to actually harm you, right? I’ll talk to the guys and figure it out. I mean, what else do you want me to do?”

“Maybe we should get a ‘divorce’ on this stupid project. It’s obviously not working out,” you spat.

“I- okay.”

You were taken aback. Did he really just agree?

“Okay? That’s all you have to say? You really want to go through with it?”

“Well, if it’s what you feel is best, I’m not going to stop you from talking to Mrs. Flynn.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see what she wants us to do.” you said, much more calmly.

With that, you picked up your bag and walked off, wanting to cool down before your game.

“Damn, Tom. That’s rough,” Harry said once you were out of earshot.

“Yeah, dude. You should’ve stood up for her. That’s not cool,” Sam added.

Tom hung his head for a minute, not sure what to think, then straightened up, shaking it angrily.

“You’re right. She’s right. I need to find those guys.”

Things had cooled down for you by the time you’d eaten a snack and hung out with some of the team for a little bit. You didn’t tell anyone what had happened, but by the way Julia kept looking at you, you figured Sam had told her.

An hour before game time, you went to go put on your kneepads and volleyball shoes. As you passed through the gym, Julia hopped up from her seat next to her boyfriend and rushed up to you.

“Whatever Sam said, I’m over it now. I’m just going to channel it into the game” you told her before she could get a word out.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Sam said you seemed pretty shaken up.”

“Look, jules, I know you’re trying to help, but now isn’t the time. I just need to focus on one thing at a time, okay? Let’s just win this and then maybe later we can talk.”

You sped up past her to where the group was in a circle, already doing stretches. You felt bad for blowing her off, but you had other things to worry about.

Your team lost the first set for the first time all season. You just couldn’t get your head in the game. You had fumbled a few sets and sent your hand into the net while hitting not once, but twice. You’d even sent a serve straight back to the wall on the other side of the gym.

You were now sitting on the bench listening to your coach yell at you, taking it all in. You were looking at her directly when a figure coming through the door caught your eye. It was Tom.

You tried to pay attention to coach, but the second she turned her attention to someone else, you glanced at him sitting by his brother.

His lip was split and he caressed one hand in the other. His hair was also all over the place and one cheek swelled slightly.

Did he get into a fight?

Even though you were still mad, something inside you appreciated his presence. You also felt concerned, but obviously couldn’t do anything about it from the bench.

You instead decided to do what you knew best, which was win. The team came back in the end and did just that. A few people were congratulating you when you saw Tom and Sam leave the gym.

“Uh, sorry guys but I need to go do something. See y’all tomorrow though!”

You jogged into the hall, frantically looking both ways before seeing them.

“Wait! Tom!” you called, running to catch up with them. They stopped, Tom not making eye contact with you when he turned as Sam watched cautiously.

He looked worse up close.

Where his cheek had only seemed swollen before, now there was a blue and purple bruise beginning to form, surrounded by pink inflamed tissue. His bottom lip also was red and puffy around the split, and when you glanced at his hands you noticed the darker bruises on each knuckle.

“Tom…” you said softly, scanning him. “Are you okay?”

“What does it matter to you? We hate each other don’t we?”

Sam took that as his cue to go back to the gym, you assumed to find Julia.

You let out a sigh and looked away.

“I don’t ‘hate you’ hate you. Yeah I hate when you’re better than me at something or you’re acting like a douchebag, but I don’t, like, want you dead or anything. I mean, you know that, right?”

You searched his face for a sign that he was getting you. After a few seconds of him staring at the ground nervously tapping his foot, he replied.

“Well I don’t hate you either! Yeah, you can have an ego and it gets on my nerves, but I’ve always thought we had just a playful hate-love thing. Like… I don’t know... Doofensmirtz and Perry the Platypus.”

You let out a chuckle at that one.

“That… actually. Yeah. That pretty much sums it up. I never actually wanted to hurt you, and I’m sorry that I did but what you did today was so not cool, man. I thought we at least tried to look out for each other a little bit. That stuff hurts. A lot. Because being a woman means I don’t know when it might cost me more than just being the butt of a joke.”

“I realize that now, and I’m so sorry for trying to trivialize you. I didn’t really think about it in the moment because it’s never affected me. I might be in trouble tomorrow because of it, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, I was so mad at myself. I marched straight over to the guys, who were then trying to laugh about you coming to talk to me, and I just… swung right on Harrison. He’s the first guy that whistled.”

“Tom…”

“And then I may have gone after the other two while I was at it. They tried to fight back, which is why my face looks like this, and I just went nuts. They gave up after realizing I wasn’t gonna back down.”

You tried to hold back tears. You always knew in the back of your mind that Tom cared a little bit, but not like this. One slipped out onto your cheek.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, trying to keep a steady voice. He reached out and brushed his thumb over your tear.

“Yes I did. Who else was going to teach those dickheads, huh? Obviously no one else in their lives have cared to.”

“Well thank you. It means a lot… and I didn’t go talk to Mrs. Flynn after our little spat outside. I wouldn’t mind staying as your ‘bride,’ if you’ll have me.”

He looked at you skeptically for a few seconds then smiled.

“Yeah, alright,” he pulled his necklace from his shirt. “Who else would rub icy hot on my back and make pie with my mom?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of the first one,” you laughed.

After a few seconds, you held out your arms.

“We good?”

He grinned, taking your offer for a hug and wrapping his own arms around you.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Like I’ve mentioned in the past, this will not be the last of heavy topics and some future scenes will actually be more descriptive, but I will make it explicitly clear where those scene are so you can have discretion. Love you all so much!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au

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ahgaseda · 4 years

Text

enough | three

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Frustration was the understatement of the year.

After Jinyoung kissed you, he avoided you for the remainder of the evening. You were left to wallow in hurt and self-pity. Being faced with how badly you had damaged him, frankly had wounded you as it rightly should have.

His driver, a chatty trouble maker named Yugyeom, who towered over you and flashed a hundred-watt smile, but you learned very quickly he would be a great source of comfort given his willingness to gossip endlessly about his boss.

As the car drove into the night, Yugyeom kindly asked how your evening had been.

“He wouldn’t have sex with me,” you lamented, hoping for a laugh and relieved when you earned one.

After an amused chuckle, Yugyeom told you, “He may be a ruthless asshole, but he’s still a gentleman.”

“Yeah, but… you know what he’s paying me for,” you trailed unsurely, wondering how much you could divulge with this new acquaintance.

Yugyeom shrugged, clearly unbothered by your current “profession,” and gabbed, “The boss isn’t a rabbit. In fact, he’s rarely horny.”

Skeptical, you frowned and sighed, “Good to know.” Turning back to the window, you watched the city around you blur into one cohesive whirlwind of color and activity.

“Well, that’s what happens to guys who are smitten with a girl they can’t have. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Biting your lip, you murmured, “No, I wouldn’t.”

Yugyeom chortled, “Yeah, if he finds that girl, then I retract my statement.”

Your brow furrowed and you abandoned the window in favor of his face. “Which statement?”

Yugyeom turned to you, taking his eyes off the road momentarily, and said, “About him not being a rabbit.”

You laughed aloud. If your memories of Jinyoung were any indication, his sex drive was through the roof. There were too many times you met up with him between classes to have a quickie and too many nights of parking in his rickety truck on some old back road with only the fireflies to see what sins you committed together.

A personal favorite you thought of often was the summer night he had filled the bed of the truck with blankets over a worn-out mattress. In the pitch black darkness of the moonless night, the two of you were a tangled mess of limbs as you fumbled around to get busy.

“Ouch,” he said, coming to a stop between your thighs.

On your back with your legs in the air alongside his hips, you held his face between your hands and asked frantically, “What? What happened? Did I hurt you?”

Jinyoung snorted and you wished you could see his face. You could barely make out his form above you in the darkness.

“How could you hurt me? You’re on the bottom,” he teased in his heavy dialect.

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed, embarrassed. “I’m new at this. You always say I’m tight. What if I break your dick?”

Jinyoung laughed hard and you grinned at the sound.

“Please, don’t ever break my dick. There wouldn’t be enough therapy in the world to help me recover from that,” Jinyoung retorted, stealing a kiss and accidentally bumping into your nose.

“Ow,” you squeaked, pinching your nose until the pain began to fade.

“I’m sorry!”

“Why did you say ‘ouch’ in the first place?” you asked with irritation.

Jinyoung winced and groaned, “I think a mosquito bit my ass.”

You giggled.

Snapping out of your memories as the car came to a rolling stop, you took in the sight of your new home. The vertical condominium was wedged between a row of identical copies, all neutrally shaded with stark black gates and railings.

Yugyeom pressed a button on a small hob before handing the device to you. The garage door began to open and he maneuvered the car slowly inside.

“Here are your keys,” said the chauffeur after he unlocked the door for you, handing the key ring to your outstretched fingers. “I bid you adieu.”

You bowed in gratitude and replied, “Thank you, sir.”

The house was too big for your liking; much too generous for a single person to live in. The main living space was almost larger than your entire apartment. As you meandered through the new residence, you smiled when you took note of your personal items stationed throughout.

While with Jinyoung at his penthouse, the movers had transported all of your belongings in a matter of hours. At first, you thought this would infuriate you - strangers putting their hands on all of your things. Then, you remembered you didn’t actually own much.

Stepping into a small room adjacent to the bedroom, you couldn’t fight a broad smile when you surveyed the office space. Your textbooks were stacked neatly and your school supplies were no exception. Sitting on the rolling chair, you did a few turns before releasing a deep sigh and closing your eyes.

Maybe this overgrown house wasn’t so bad after all.

For the next two days, you settled in, making the place feel more like a home and less of a work perk. You brightened the rooms with color and light, taking pride in the place that Jinyoung was essentially lending to you.

But you constantly checked your phone, wondering why he hadn’t called or even texted. You resorted to drowning yourself in homework and exam prep, hoping to distract yourself from the endless thoughts of Jinyoung and his dumb, handsome face.

Even as you sat in class, the monotony of your physics professor faded into static, pushed away by memories of Jinyoung and his adorable laugh. How many years had it been since you heard him laugh? You grimaced. Jinyoung at that conference table looked hard and severe, like he hadn’t laughed in years.

That saddened you; the idea Jinyoung had been living a life without love or laughter. To keep the tears from your eyes, you focused on thermodynamics and forbid Jinyoung from your mind.

On the third afternoon, you finally got the call you had been anticipating.

Briefly, you stared at the phone and counted the seconds in your head, knowing he would despise having to sit through a few rings. “Yes, my lord?” you finally answered.

Jinyoung droned while he chewed his lunch, “Yugyeom is gonna bring you here. Be ready in 15.”

Feeling he was already about to hang up, you yelled, “I’ll need more time.”

Indignant, Jinyoung grumbled, swallowing whatever was in his mouth and asking, “What the hell for?”

“To shave my legs,” you deadpanned.

There was a pause, followed by a stern, “Don’t bother.”

Then, he hung up.

Frowning at the phone, you proceeded to spend an hour preparing yourself for the visit to Jinyoung’s penthouse. Whether or not you were actually going to have sex with him, you adorned yourself as if it were an ever-present possibility.

This game of his had hopelessly reeled you in.

Yugyeom arrived to get you in a sleek black car and you found him a comfortable place to sit in the grandiose living area. When you told him the fifteen minutes allotted would not suffice, he whipped out his phone and offered to keep himself busy whilst you took your sweet time.

Yugyeom was easily becoming your favorite person, especially when he commented at what a good job you had done breathing life back into the abandoned condo. The two of you gabbed about abstract art and the mint colored record player on your nearby table. Yugyeom was passionate about music and recommended an entire list of vinyls for you to give your ear to. He seemed to jump on board your plan to keep Jinyoung and his almighty ass waiting even longer.

Over an hour later, you stood in the cold, glass box that took you to the heights of the residential tower. Your freshly-shaved legs did not tolerate the chill well and you suddenly wished you had opted for pants instead of the high-waisted shorts.

But hell, your outfit was on point. The v-neck shirt was tucked into your navy blue bottoms and your favorite push-up bra was here to work, leaving little to the imagination where your cleavage was concerned. You had gone up a cup size leaving home, and you damn sure wanted Jinyoung to notice. But to avoid looking too blatant with your bare legs and perky breasts on display, you wore a crisp blazer over the ensemble; vaguely casual.

“Alright, I’m here,” you announced as you walked into the penthouse apartment. “Let’s do this.”

Perched in the kitchen, Jinyoung continued to eat his apple leisurely, raking the knife over a chunk before taking another bite. He leaned back against the sink, ankles crossed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans.

For the brief seconds you passed in front of him, Jinyoung did a full head-to-toe scan of your presence, lingering over every curve of your form and resisting the urge to nod his approval. With the trail of delicate, fruity scents following you, Jinyoung surmised you must have just come from a long, hot shower.

Unbuttoning your blazer, you propped your forearms on the counter directly next to him, sticking your ass into the air and glancing over your shoulder. Drumming your nails on the surface, you whined, “I’ll have you know I’ve had a very stressful day.”

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung sighed, “I never would have guessed.”

Though he stood at your side, he felt miles away. You sashayed your hips a little, inevitably drawing his attention once more, and murmured coyly, “I’ve heard rage sex can help with that.”

“So can a nap.”

You grumbled at another battle lost, standing up straight and stealing the apple from his hand. After taking a loud bite, you murmured, “The boy I knew couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”

Without missing a beat, Jinyoung snatched the fruit back from your grasp and chuffed, “The girl I knew would never have traded her body for money.”

You nearly choked.

Jinyoung cut another piece of the apple and forced it into your parted mouth, saying, “You shouldn’t bite into an apple. It’s bad for your teeth.”

You watched him saunter away, noting the broad expanse of his shoulders and the way his dress shirt hugged every line and angle. Once upon a time, you knew how it felt to sink your fingers into his back, to anchor yourself to him in every way possible as he took you to the heights of ecstasy.

You also knew how it felt to let him hold you, to comfort you when you needed his love most. Jinyoung was no stranger to you waking up in the middle of the night screaming, doused in sweat as your dreams turned dark and violent. There were too many things you had seen in your lifetime and your mind could never forget them no matter how hard you tried.

Jinyoung was just another frightened kid, no different from you, but he knew what to say and what to do. You would rest your head in the bend of his arm, your smaller frame tucked to his body as he rocked you back and forth. He would murmur the most delicate of words until you drifted back to sleep.

The memories of how passionate Jinyoung could be with you, how mindlessly in love you had once been with each other, brought a fresh surge of frustration into your chest and the sensation radiated through your body to the point you felt heat behind your cheeks.

Vexed by his dismissals, you trudged toward the door, drawing his confused attention momentarily as you shouted, “I’m going with Yugyeom to get food!”

The sound of the door slamming ricocheted through the apartment. Jinyoung stood rooted in place, watching where you had just stormed out, and nonchalantly took one last bite from his apple before tossing the core into the trash bin.

God, you drove him crazy. He loved you to the point of madness. Everything you did was both certifiably adorable and yet absolutely infuriating in his eyes. This little game he played with you was the highlight of his life at the moment. He was finally reunited with a sense of peace now that he could see you again, but he had no intention of giving you absolution any time soon.

You plopped into the passenger seat, greeting a surprised Yugyeom as he had been playing on his phone. You took the mobile from him and proceeded to finish his round of Candy Crush, asking him to take you to the nearest convenience store for snacks.

“You were barely in there for two seconds,” Yugyeom said, revving up the engine.

You groaned and explained, “We argued already. He annoys me.”

Yugyeom chortled.

“Your phone is ringing,” you told him a moment later, seeing Jinyoung’s photo on the screen. “It’s the asshat.”

“Answer it then,” Yugyeom smarted, focused on the busy street he turned onto.

You did as told and chirped, “Yugyeom’s phone.”

Surprised to hear your voice on his driver’s line, Jinyoung said, “You didn’t take a guard with you.”

You rolled your eyes and whined, “I’m just going to buy snacks. How much trouble could I possibly get into?”

“What’s he complaining about?” Yugyeom asked with a laugh.

Hoping Jinyoung would notice the difference, you drastically softened your tone when speaking to Yugyeom, “We didn’t bring a babysitter.”

“Mr. Muscles is in the back,” Yugyeom replied.

“What?” you exclaimed, turning around.

Sure enough, Jackson the burly security guard was resting atop the seat, an arm tucked behind his head with his eyes closed. Though after hearing Yugyeom, he lifted a hand and waved his fingers to let you know he was well aware of the situation.

You giggled and quipped, “Unbelievable.”

“Alright then,” Jinyoung sighed, satisfied you had enough escorts for a measly trip.

“Why are you even worried about me?” you asked spitefully, grateful for the distance between you and Jinyoung at the moment. “I’m sure I’m easily replaceable.”

“I’m not having an argument with you over the phone,” Jinyoung replied calmly. “Though you sure are a lot braver whenever you’re on one.”

You scoffed, but had no rebuttal. It was true. After a nervous pause, you stammered, “Want anything from the store?”

Jinyoung barked, “Yeah, three or four bottles of soju. I’ll need them if you’re planning on staying longer than five minutes this time.”

“You bastard,” you fired back. “I offered you my ass on a silver platter and you would rather talk about apples.”

Yugyeom and Jackson both made noises of amusement, though the latter still kept his eyes closed in an attempt to catch a nap.

There was absolutely no fluctuation in Jinyoung’s voice when he grumbled, “Yeah, because nothing turns a guy on like his girl flopping onto the kitchen counter.”

Bristling with fury, you snapped, “How would I know what turns a guy on? It’s been years since I slept with you.”

“Me?” Jinyoung questioned.

“Huh?”

Jinyoung shifted his weight, drifting into his bedroom, and asked, “I’m the last person you slept with?”

Immediately, you realized what you had said and fell rather spectacularly into a panic. “I’m gonna hang up now.”

Jinyoung countered in a low threat, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You pulled the phone from your ear and stared at the screen, biting your lip as adrenaline rose in your chest. After a few tense seconds, you pressed the phone back to your cheek and whispered, “Yes.”

Jinyoung was clearly off balance after your confession, because his tone was tender and soft when he spoke, “No one else has touched you?”

Pinching your lips together, you wrestled with what to say. Had he assumed you had moved on from him? That you had gotten into bed with other men in an attempt to forget about him?

Firmly, you replied, “No.”

It was true. You had found and lost love with Jinyoung. You knew you wouldn’t find it with anyone else - you would only find it where you had left it.

Now, it was Jinyoung’s turn to be silent. After a moment, he murmured, “I didn’t know that.”

Why did he sound skeptical? Did he think you were lying to please him?

Wrath reared its ugly head again and you snapped, “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not a massive slut. Does this lower my street value?”

Jinyoung snarled, “Careful...”

“Wait, it should raise my worth, right? I’m sorry…” you trailed with a hollow chuckle to hide your wounded pride. “I’m not up to speed on prostitution practices.”

Running out of patience, Jinyoung hissed your name.

Squeezing the phone, you shouted into the receiver with loathing, “The last girl you paid to fuck you, should I call her for some advice?”

“Oh, shit,” Yugyeom suddenly exclaimed, slamming the breaks as a car darted out in front of him.

You screamed when the vehicles collided and inadvertently dropped the phone onto the floor between your feet. While you lurched forward from the impact, your taut safety belt shoved you back into the seat. Fortunately, you and your companions were unscathed.

“Real nice, Yugyeom,” Jackson chastised, opening his door and stepping out to survey the damage.

“Don’t get out,” Yugyeom told you as you reached for your handle.

You nodded, watching the man in the opposing vehicle storm up to the car you were in and slam both of his hands on the hood. Jackson approached him, speaking diplomatically, but the other man was shouting, motioning between the two of them.

“I wanna go back now,” you spoke shakily, eyes on the drama unfolding.

When his polite manners didn’t do the trick, Jackson braced his hands on the man’s chest and shoved him away, warning him to settle down or there would be consequences. After handing the stranger a few bills from the wad of cash in his pocket, both parties returned to their vehicles amicably.

“What are you paying him for?” Yugyeom exclaimed with discontent as Jackson slid back into the car. “We had the right of way!”

“Just go before the police show up,” Jackson ordered, reaching into his back pocket with a groan when his phone began to ring. He patiently answered, “Yeah, boss? No, we’re fine. She’s fine. It was a tiny collision. She does? No, she seems alright to me.”

“I’m right here,” you grumbled, glancing over your shoulder. The concept of Jinyoung being worried about you warmed your icy heart for a moment, but you were still too annoyed to let the gesture soften you.

“I will keep an eye on it,” Jackson whispered, then hung up.

“He told you about my history with car accidents, did he?”

Jackson relaxed back into his seat, like nothing had happened, and said, “He just told me to watch out for the signs, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” you asserted. “My reaction is totally normal.”

“Really?” Jackson persisted. “Because my hands stopped shaking already. How about yours?”

You glanced down at your lap and saw your quivering fingers, immediately folding your arms and gazing out the window.

Stepping into the penthouse after a short return drive, you came face-to-face with a livid Jinyoung. Before he could utter a word, you sassed, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

He narrowed his eyes in reproach. “That’s not funny.”

Putting your hands on your hips, you dodged him and sang in a taunt, “It’s a shame you’ve lost your sense of humor, among other things.”

Jinyoung’s sharp tongue was not to be underestimated and he was quick to retort, “Yeah, it must be out there fucking what’s left of your dignity.”

You scowled, enraged.

Jinyoung planted his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, and asked sternly, “Why haven’t you been with anyone else?”

A ripple of nerves shot through you and you deflected, “Are we really gonna have this conversation now?”

Jinyoung would never admit it, but he was overcome with feelings toward you. You had stayed faithful to him. Even though you left him, you had made no attempts to replace him. Every fiber of his being was drawn to you, desperate to have you in his arms.

“Why not?” Jinyoung finally pressed, advancing toward you.

Folding your arms, you stuck out your hip and tapped your foot. “Have you been with anyone else?”

Jinyoung wagged his finger. “I asked you first.”

“No, Jinyoung,” you admitted with a heavy sigh, abandoning any ideas about lying to him. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. I’m not capable of trusting another person that much.”

Harshening his expression, Jinyoung sneered, “Trust is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

You bristled, reading his tone.

“I’m suddenly reminded of how much I trusted you until the day you jumped in that truck and ran away from me.”

You threw up your hands, assuming he was back to the game, back to his desire to punish you. Exhausted, you choked, “I wasn’t doing it to get away from you.”

Jinyoung scoffed, “Really?”

“Don’t talk to me like you fucking know me,” you yelled, drifting toward his room for much needed solitude.

Jinyoung’s gaze narrowed, fire coursing through his veins when he hissed, “I’m the only one that knows you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you stomped to his bedroom and slammed the door behind you. Plopping down on his bed, you fell to your back and focused on calming your racing heart. Because arguing with Jinyoung didn’t scare you - it excited you.

When you were with Jinyoung, the two of you got into fiery debates rather often. Both of you were reckless with your emotions, quick to indulge your tempers given the right situations pushed the right buttons. You and Jinyoung were adept at flinging sharp words and insults, but you never felt fear or emotional injury from your sparring with him. Jinyoung was the boy who held your heart. You knew he would never break it.

At least, not until you broke his.

Voices drew your attention a few minutes later. Jinyoung had made no attempts to engage further with you and you were slightly disappointed. Meanwhile, you had been grappling with the spikes of adrenaline still holding your attention.

It amazed you how little compassion your own brain had for your emotional well-being. Whether it be a small collision or even a fake car accident in a film, seeing either would bring back every visceral detail of the day you learned how dangerous your home had become.

The van had slammed into your truck, totalling it with ease. Your head hit the window and a concussion nearly faded your vision to black. Before you slipped into unconsciousness, your body alerted you to more impending danger - of men dragging you from the wreckage with no intention of rescuing you.

Jinyoung would never understand your hatred for the gangs. Not unless he had been through what you had endured that day.

Snapping from your dark thoughts, you opened the door and stepped toward the living area. You needed to see Jinyoung, needed him to anchor you back to reality. No matter the hurt and pain between you and him, he was the uncontested safest place in the world.

“Jinyoung,” you called unsurely, voice shaking as the conflict grew louder.

In your three days of being one of Jinyoung’s “employees,” you had only met Bambam once and all you knew about him was his handling of Jinyoung’s business relationships. He seemed to be the orchestrater, the man with his hands in every cookie jar.

At the moment, Bambam was shouting, visibly enraged. Even though his anger was not remotely directed at you, your instinct was to cower into the corner to make yourself a smaller target. As you paced backwards slightly, head down in submission, Jinyoung clocked a weathered glance at your movements.

While Bambam continued to rant, you thought of your mother - the way she screamed at you and her voice would carry through the house, ricocheting from every surface to the point you thought you were surrounded. At the memory, your breathing began to shallow and you stared at the floor.

“Stop raising your voice,” Jinyoung warned his friend, but his eyes were fixated on you.

Oblivious, Bambam persisted, “I’m sorry, but this is the biggest screw up since…”

Jinyoung cut him off to snarl in reproach, “Shut up.”

You remembered the way you had screamed when those men tore you from the car and the sound flooded all of your senses until you truly believed you were back in that same place all over again. The memories were snowballing, piling one after the other until you were buried under an avalanche of trauma.

“Jinyoung,” called Jackson worriedly, having finally noticed you.

“I know,” Jinyoung answered as he made his way over to you, grabbing your arms and guiding you to the floor. “Sit. Sit.”

To everyone in the room, you looked like a startled animal, eyes wide and chest heaving for breath. Following Jinyoung’s instructions, you wouldn’t call what you did sitting, per se. You more or less collapsed to the ground; your legs folding under you like a lawn chair.

Frantic, Yugyeom asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

Jinyoung pushed some of your hair out of your face and answered, “She’s having a panic attack.”

“Because of me?” Bambam blinked.

Yugyeom was quick to scold, “No, you idiot. You’re just the cherry on top of a milkshake from hell.”

Clenching his jaw, Jackson turned to Bambam and added, “There was a little incident earlier.”

At the phrase, your mind gave you rapid glimpses of the car accident and your chest tightened all the more. Many pairs of eyes were on you now and your brain warned they were systematically draining all of the oxygen out of the room, robbing you of much-needed air.

“No, no, don’t look at them. Look at me,” Jinyoung demanded, cupping your face. “I’m the only one that matters. I’m the only one here.”

You wanted desperately to wrangle your breathing back to normal. You screamed at yourself in your mind that you were overreacting, that you were spiraling out of control for no rational reason.

“Everybody, get out,” Jinyoung ordered under his breath, careful not to shout in your presence as he seethed before you.

Shuddering, you choked in an attempt to gulp in more air.

Jinyoung gripped you, gentle but secure, and ordered, “Hey, hold my arms and close your eyes. Focus on breathing.”

You winched your eyes shut and imagined waves lapping on some distant shore. Even in your mind, the place you tried to seek was dark with storm clouds, the ground quaking when thunder boomed overhead.

“That’s it. Just relax. I’m right here with you.”

His voice seemed muffled by the rushing of blood in your ears. Your skull pounded, oversaturated with survival responses.

Jinyoung watched your face, relieved to see you were settling down in response to his words. Once upon a time, he was adept at saving you from yourself. Shushing your whimpers softly, he sighed, “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe with me.”

The panic gave you one last spike of terror, a final attempt of claiming you. You hyperventilated in response, shaking at a fresh onslaught of adrenaline, but it was subdued and losing its power.

Jinyoung brushed his thumb through the tear rolling down your cheek and said, “Breathe.”

His voice echoed in your head, drowning out everything else.

“You’re doing great.”

You relaxed, breathing steadily.

Jinyoung angled his body, pressing two fingers to your wrist and seeking out your pulse. Satisfied at the speed, he ordered, “Open your eyes now.”

Your eyes cracked open slowly, tears escaping your lashes and streaming down your face. Meeting his penchant stare, you rasped, “Jinyoung?”

“Not now, sweetheart. Just focus on you,” he calmed. “We have plenty of time to talk.”

Composing yourself, you took a deep inhale and released the air. Feeling marginally better, you joked, “This day fucking blows.”

Jinyoung chortled briefly. “I know.”

Letting your hands slide from his arms, you began, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I got carried away.”

Jinyoung fervently shook his head. “Don’t apologize.”

Both of you got to your feet, the room thick with tension of a different kind. A smile forced its way to your lips as you had caught a glimpse of the old Jinyoung - the boy who loved you more than himself and never failed to drive away your nightmares.

Calling his name, you reached out for him and stammered, “Can we… just stop being angry with each other?”

Jinyoung exhaled, morose. Giving your hand a squeeze before letting go, he explained, “You’re angry with me. I’m angry with you. Time will fix that.”

You watched him escape into his adjacent bedroom and you followed without any doubts.

For minutes that passed much too quickly, you had been safe and sound in Jinyoung’s arms. Even now, every aspect of his body language was open and inviting. If you wanted to rush back into his embrace, you had no doubt you would be welcome to do so.

Noticing you had shadowed him into the bedroom, Jinyoung studied you and asked, “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a nod. “I promise.”

“Alright, then,” he replied, turning to leave. Your presence was suffocating him. He had too many desires toward you at the moment and he didn’t want to act on them yet. This was a slow burn - a power play he had to win in the end.

You sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at your hands and relieved to see they were no longer shaking. Rubbing your fingers together, you watched Jinyoung pilfer his pocket for a cell phone, dialing a number.

“Stay here and take it easy. I’m going to send everyone home,” he told you passively, striding out of the room before you could answer.

You nodded your understanding and listened to his footsteps fade away. Resisting a smile, you glanced around the room and mulled over the silly boy you loved. He was already trying to repair his harsh exterior, forcing any buffer he could to keep you from seeing he was still the soft, kind Jinyoung you knew.

Your overwhelming desire at the moment was to kiss him - to press your lips to every inch of his face and neck until he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you with the fire and passion you knew he possessed.

A moment later, Jinyoung returned to the bedroom, relieved to see you hadn’t moved. Giving you a look over, the two of you merely studied each other, neither uttering a word. Where did you both stand in this relationship now?

Jinyoung could see the affection in your eyes. He had soothed your fear and rage in one moment of tenderness and vulnerability. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, to cradle you in his arms and let you fall asleep under his watchful gaze. For the past four years, he had been denied your warmth, parted from the feeling of your skin against his. Meanwhile, his heart - which he had started to believe was long gone - ached in his chest, twisting with need at the sight of you before him.

When Jinyoung shifted his weight, you knew he was a split-second away from finding a reason to crash on the couch; to put some distance between the two of you in order to hold on to his need to punish you. Longing to keep him close, you called, “Can I ask you for something?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

Your eyes were alight with hope as you posed the request, “Let me sleep in here tonight.”

And there it was. Mulling through indecision, Jinyoung decided he could lose a battle or two if it meant he would still win the war. After what happened over the course of the day, there was no way he could deny you any longer.

Ultimately, Jinyoung shrugged, feigning indifference, and he surrendered. “Fine.”

Blushing, you quipped to ease the tension, “I won’t make any moves on you, I swear.”

“Take off your jacket,” Jinyoung countered lowly, without missing a beat.

“Okay,” you replied, slipping out of the blazer as your brow stitched. “Why?”

Jinyoung salivated at the sight of your body in the tight outfit. He wanted to bury his face in your full breasts and grab handfuls of your plump ass, but managed to keep his composure for the time being.

Judging by the emotionless look on his face, you had absolutely no idea of the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. Jinyoung was momentarily daydreaming of all the many, many times he had taken pleasure from your body and given you back more in return.

Jinyoung began rolling up his sleeves, like he had a job to do that would undoubtedly require him getting his hands dirty, and replied, “I will give you a taste of what you want.”

Confused, you weren’t entirely up to speed yet with his shift in disposition and you searched his expression for an answer. “And what is that?” you questioned innocently.

“Put your hair up.”

You cocked your head, curious.

“Put your hair in a ponytail,” Jinyoung spoke slowly, almost patronizingly, when you failed to obey and pointed at the crown of your head.

With a roll of your eyes at what he could be playing at, you did as told and pulled a tie from your wrist to restrain your hair.

Jinyoung approached you, nose-to-nose, and surprised you when he reached around your head and grabbed the ponytail in his fist. You groaned at the sharp, forceful contact and braced your hands on his chest.

“Strip,” Jinyoung ordered, nipping at your lips.

Eyes widening, you could hardly believe your ears and you complied with his demand as if it were your body’s natural reflex. Jinyoung kept a solid hold on your hair and kissed you with abandon, smiling against your mouth when he felt you trying to shuffle out of your shorts.

Jinyoung cupped your jaw as he slipped his tongue along your bottom lip, teasing you for entrance. Rather than give in, you leaned into him and shoved your tongue into his mouth, stumbling as your shorts landed around your ankles. Jinyoung chuckled at your mindless urgency and the sound registered in your chest, causing you to smile while you played with his tongue.

His hand fell from your cheek, landing on your clothed breast and palming at the mound before grabbing the hem of your shirt and yanking it to the side to expose your bra. When you heard the material rip slightly, you broke from his mouth to gasp, but in the next instant, his palm was on your waist and stroking up your bare stomach.

The heat of his touch traveled up to your head and clouded your thoughts. You could hear and feel every harsh thump of your racing pulse in your ears. Your heart was clenching in your chest, celebrating at the taste of victory. Jinyoung was touching you. He was kissing you with the fervor of someone that had never stopped loving you.

Impatient, Jinyoung released you just long enough to spin you around, facing you away from him. You called his name, heat fogging your mind even more from the rush of arousal of his rough grip on you. Jinyoung guided you to his dresser, pushing you into it with the insistence of a man starved for the feel of your body beneath his.

Your hands collided and fumbled with his as both of you made it your mission to get you out of all your clothes. When you reached behind yourself to fiddle with his zipper, Jinyoung grasped your wrist and brought it to the dresser, pinning you there.

Jinyoung was completely clothed when he pressed to your back. It was symbolic - you were naked and wholly vulnerable, but he was guarded and concealed.

Bracing yourself on the dresser, you closed your eyes and hummed with pleasure, shivering at the feel of his warm, roaming hands on your body. His palms skimmed and traced every expanse of your bare skin, touching you with the seasoned experience of a boy who once knew every inch of you intimately.

Jinyoung groaned at how soft you felt against his fingertips. You hadn’t changed at all. He could see every shaky breath you took and thrived off of the effect he had on you. Sensing you were desperate for his touch, Jinyoung kissed beneath your ear and coiled his arms around your naked waist like a noose.

“I want you to know something,” Jinyoung murmured, tonguing a path up the side of your neck while he tangled a fist in your ponytail. “But first, don’t utter a word.”

You nodded your understanding and submitted to his dominance, purring when his hand lowered between your legs.

“I’ve fucked many women since you left me,” he sneered in a low whisper. “None of them could fill the emptiness you left behind.”

A rancid taste took root in your mouth as the revelation weighed heavily on your heart. Other women had slept with your man. There were whores out there that knew how it felt to have him inside them. You clenched your jaw and checked your anger, because unadulterated rage was beginning to boil in your chest.

Smirking at the way you stiffened against him, Jinyoung teased his fingers beneath your lower lips, chuckling devilishly when he felt the dampness and warmth of your flesh. He coated his digits in your arousal, playfully teasing your entrance until your hips jerked forward involuntarily toward his hand.

Feeling you getting riled up, Jinyoung chose to growl in your ear, “I closed my eyes every time, imagining you on top of me, but I knew better. They weren’t as warm as you. They weren’t as tight as you. They didn’t make those sounds I know you make.”

You wanted to be aroused by this. You would have preferred his words to fuel your ego, but you were too busy being absolutely infuriated. The territorial streak you possessed flared and you quickly pushed on the dresser in an attempt to loosen his hold on you.

Jinyoung chuckled, releasing his grip on your hair to reaffirm his arms around your waist. “Where are you going, baby?” he teased against your neck.

Irritable, you growled, “You fucked other women?”

Jinyoung was thrilled to hear your envy and he squeezed your bare breast to annoy you some more. “Of course, I did,” he replied with a spiteful edge to his voice as he pushed his way into your entrance. “You weren’t around.”

You were momentarily distracted from being angry when his thumb rolled your clit and a tiny whimper left your lips. Jinyoung pumped his digits into your wet pussy, stroking your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers.

After a gasp at the feel of your walls stretching around his penetration, you clenched your jaw and spat, “You are the only person I have ever been with. You’re the only person I’ve ever fucking kissed, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung snickered and sighed on your shoulder, “Are you jealous, sweetheart?”

“No,” you smarted bitterly. “How could I be jealous of what’s rightfully mine?”

Thrumming at your declaration, Jinyoung grinned with pride and whispered, “Would you feel better if I told you I just used them to get myself off? I never concerned myself with pleasuring them?”

That did little to mollify you and you told him as much. “You were still inside them.”

“I didn’t come in any of them. Couldn’t risk that.” His voice dropped to a whisper when he added, “I miss coming inside this gorgeous bitch though.”

You shivered at his words, biting your lip as you remembered the times Jinyoung would say the dirtiest, nastiest shit to turn you on. Meanwhile, your memories also reminded you how it felt to push Jinyoung over the edge, to feel him losing himself on top of you. With a wiggle of your ass against his crotch and the obvious erection trapped in his pants, you whined, “I’m still mad at you.”

Jinyoung crowded your back a little more aggressively, sinking his fingers into your warmth down to the base of his knuckles. Chuckling at the way your legs quivered and you struggled to keep balance, he teased, “Well, I suggest you get over that in the next two minutes.”

Squeezing the corners of the dresser, you cried, “What do you want from me?”

“Right now, I just want you to relax,” Jinyoung crooned, stroking his free hand across your breasts and toying with your hard nipples. “I really wanna watch you come.”

“Mm,” you moaned, bidding yourself to ignore how angry he made you and focus more on his fleeting desire to pleasure you.

Jinyoung sank his teeth into the base of your neck and tongued at the crimson mark forming. Inhaling the scent of your hair, he growled, “You always looked so beautiful when you came for me.”

Listening to your pussy squelching around his fingers, you panted, “Jinyoung, I’m wet enough. Take me.”

“Who are you telling?” he chided, his fingers moving at an even faster pace. “I’m the one with a hand between your legs.”

“Jinyoung,” you moaned, desperate.

Jinyoung rolled your clit with this thumb and groaned in the back of his throat at the feel of your arousal dripping down his hand. “Tell me what you want,” he sighed.

“I want...” you stammered, releasing little noises every time his digits plunged into your core, stroking your walls good and rough.

You knew what you were about to say. You had passed beyond want and settled into need. Winching your eyes closed and sinking your teeth into your lip, you imagined how it would feel to make love to him after all these years; to feel yourself one with him again.

You craved it on a primal level, mouth watering at the mere thought.

When you failed to answer, Jinyoung seemed to read your steamy thoughts and released a shaky, aroused breath on your neck, rumbling, “Tell me.”

“You inside me,” you confessed without hesitation.

God, he wanted that. Your pussy was warm and welcoming around his fingers. He knew your cunt would clamp down on his cock in a vice grip.

His hips stuttered, smacking into your bare ass from behind in a seeking thrust. His body wanted nothing more than to go on autopilot. Feeling your naked skin and your undeniable heat pushed him to the height of his tolerance.

But Jinyoung was well in control of his priorities and pitilessly reminded, “I am inside you.”

Rolling your eyes with annoyance, you whimpered, “That’s not what I...”

With a vengeance, Jinyoung shoved his fingers deep inside your walls to match his words, “You want my cock?”

“Yes,” you cried out, moving your hips to match the speed of his hand.

Hunger gripped his voice as he continued, “You want this thick cock to fill you up?”

“Yes,” you shouted, grasping the corners of the dresser until your knuckles began to ache.

“No.”

Blinking in surprise, you exclaimed, “What?”

“I said no.”

Frustrated, you bounced your hips, driving to meet his fingers and simultaneously ensuring your ass coaxed against the bulge in his jeans. Though you weren’t clueless as far as this power struggle between you and your ex-boyfriend was concerned, you asked, “Why?”

“You know why.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Jinyoung bore down on you, wedging you underneath him with no way of escape. You howled his name and pleaded for mercy when his hand picked up speed, drilling against your sweet spot while his thumb rubbed your clit borderline viciously.

The orgasm slammed into you, consuming you - mind and body. You moaned at the top of your lungs, the sound abruptly cutting off as you shook in his arms. Your back curved against his body and you pushed at his hand frantically when the stimulation became more than you could bear.

“Oh, god,” you sobbed, fluttering limply onto the dresser and burying your face between your arms. Jinyoung was still ever so slightly sinking his fingers in and out of your heat, coaxing the aftershocks out of you while he rutted his clothed cock along your ass.

“Good girl,” he snarled almost inaudibly, fighting a grin at how hard you had climaxed from his fingers alone. You were extremely sensitive, which led him to believe this was the first orgasm you had experienced in quite a while. And he wasn’t wrong.

Jinyoung kept his body draped over yours and grabbed you by the throat. His lips were wet with saliva as he blazed a trail up the side of your neck before whispering, “I would love nothing more than to fuck the shit out of you. To stretch you open with my cock and fill you with cum like you want, but I won’t. Not until you beg me and not a moment before you admit you were wrong for leaving me the way you did.”

Tears pricked your eyes from the ministrations of his thumb rolling your engorged bundle of nerves, but were spurned even further by his words. You merely lay there with his body overtop yours, feeling the cold of the dresser against your breasts, and wishing to all the heavens he would just take you.

But more than anything, you wanted him to forgive you.

Jinyoung withdrew his hand and wiped your juices off on his jeans carelessly before opening the drawer at your side and finding a roomy shirt for you to wear.

“I’m back to being mad at you,” you hissed after finally lifting yourself from the dresser.

Jinyoung said nothing, though he gave you a stern, unaffected look before pulling the sweater over your head. You lifted your arms into the air and allowed him to dress you. Then, you shuffled to his bed.

You were disappointed but obviously not surprised when he didn’t join you. Noting an outline of the hard dick in his jeans, you watched him step toward the bathroom and considered pressing your ear to the door to listen to him relieve himself.

“By the way, I lied,” Jinyoung said as he stood in the open doorway.

Shifting under the blankets, you asked with indifference, “About what?”

Jinyoung settled his gaze on you, licking his lips at the sight of you sated and comfortable in his bed, and confessed, “I haven’t touched any women since you. I don’t have anything to give to another person. You took it all.”

Then, he closed the bathroom door behind him and left you to your solitary thoughts, missing the sight of the victorious smile that claimed your swollen lips.

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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 #park jinyoung #got7 smut #jinyoung smut #park jinyoung smut #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #jinyoung fic #got7 scenario #got7 reaction #jinyoung scenario #jinyoung reaction #jinyoung fanfiction

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Summary: Kazami blew into Republic City High like a hurricane. The students loved her, she changed how the arts program was run and rose it out of the ashes. She got along with most all of the staff, that is, except for one.

Lin would give her props for saving the arts program, but that’s as far as it went. The failed opera singer was obviously looking for what she’d see as an “easy” gig to get her back in the papers and then abandon her students. And she wasn’t going to offer praise for a one trick pony.

But when things shift, when there’s an understanding, can their students push the two titans of the school together to find their own happiness?

A/N: This is a completely self indulgent high school AU. I tried to write it in second person POV, but it didn’t flow well so it is third person with it being Lin x OC. Many props go to @kuvirasbrat for helping me get this shaped though <3

Wordcount: 21,685

Homecoming season at Republic City High meant many things. Mostly, it meant spirit days where both students and teachers made fools of themselves attempting to meet the day’s theme. Today was easy enough, it was a “Going to the Beach!” motif. Kazami dug around in her closet until she finally found the floppy hat that she’d been gifted one year. Putting it on her head, she checked her outfit in the mirror. She’d chosen a bright blue tank top that highlighted her eyes, the straps of swimsuit could be seen just enough. Over it, she wore her black, floral, kimono style cardigan over it to cover herself. Itw as one of her favorites that fell a bit long on her form. Her dark skinny jeans were on point for those trips and she finally slipped into her old sandals to finish it off. Making sure she had her large sunglasses as well, her high ponytail made the hat uncomfortable but it could be fixed at school. She was already running late.

Running out to her car, she’d have to skip the coffee this morning, but Lin had been surprising her with a coffee on her desk lately. She really needed to remember to thank her properly for that, maybe with some homemade scones.

Thanks to a dicey streetlight call, really it was yellow and why would you have them there if not to get people through, she made it on time. Opening the choir room door, she moved to throw her purse in the desk drawer again and smiled when she saw not only the coffee but a croissant sitting on her desk as well.

“Lin Beifong you are a mind reader.” Kazami murmured as she sat back with both the coffee and the pastry. Tossing the hat on the desk for now, she enjoyed the quiet that had enveloped her.

Finishing the croissant, she got up and opened her classroom doors to let in her students. Parking her sunglasses on the top of her head, she smiled and complimented her students as they filed in with their own beach gear. Bolin of course outdid them all with his old time full body swimsuit and inflatable rubber duck.

Sipping the coffee a little bit more, hoping for the caffeine to kick in, she walked over to the piano. “Alright, shall we--”

“Ms. Ikeda, isn’t that Ms. Beifong’s handwriting on your cup?” Asami asked, taking her normal spot next to the piano.

“I don’t know Miss Sato, perhaps you’d like to take it down to her and see for yourself?” Kazami raised a brow, fingers pressing into the keys. “And while you’re at it, perhaps you can pass along Korra’s sweatshirt to her.”

Asami blushed but immediately backed down from the teasing question. Smirking at the student, the older woman threw a hand up and started into their warm ups.

******

Lin wasn’t the most fond of homecoming, or spirit week. The themes were ridiculous and she was not one to enjoy making a fool of herself. Today’s wasn’t so bad though, she supposed. Slipping into the school, she wore a pair of jeans she had cuffed to her ankles and belted to better fit her waist. Tucked into those pants was a dark green tank top covered by an open, white cotton button down shirt that she had rolled to her elbows. Donning a pair of sneakers, she made quick strides to her classroom to see if the surprise coffee would be there again.

Flicking the lights on, she smiled when indeed, it was. Grabbing the cup, she smiled when she saw the little message on the cup.

See you for lunch duty! Enjoy!

Grabbing the cup, she sipped it and hummed at the taste of her coffee. Grabbing the graded tests from her bag, she sat in her chair and took some time with her coffee. She ought to find out what Kazami’s coffee order is and surprise her with some. She was sure Kya knew it, the two had gone for coffee with Izumi. Or maybe one of the kids would know. Asami would tell her without too much guff.

Reaching for her pen, other things that needed to be graded sat on her desk calling to her. Starting in on those she contemplated the choir director. The woman seemed to be genuine in all of her interactions, she ought to look up a video of her performing one of these days. The more she talked to her, the more curious she had become.

At first, interactions stuck to the lunch room. Cordial comments slowly became banter. Banter became conversations and observations of students. From there it began to move out of the lunch room. It began with little moments of poking their heads in during each other’s office hours, walking each other out at the end of the day, and coordinating to stand around at things together. They bonded over a shared love of enjoyment of obscure books that made them think, and trashy romance novels that made them laugh, old time movies, the fact that neither could stand Raiko as principal but weren’t about to leave their students to him, and the fact that coffee was the superior drink only next to a good aged red wine.

Humming to herself, she looked up when a knock sounded through her office and she saw Mako standing there. “Hey kid, come on in.”

“Hi chief, I was wondering if I could get you to explain this again. I’m not getting it.” Mako said, stepping into the room and set his bag down.

“Sure, You have your book?” Lin asked, reaching for her glasses. The homework could wait a little longer. “Alright, show me where you’re getting lost.”

********

When Lin strode into the cafeteria, she smirked when she saw Kazami, this time wearing her hat, and her large sunglasses on her face.

“Now that’s a look.” Lin commented, chuckling slightly at the indignant look Kazami threw back at her.

“I will have you know I am a peak fashion icon amongst the other teachers. Besides, you need one of these hats worse than I do.” Kazami pointed out, reaching up to pull the sunglasses off for now.

There they were, there were those damn eyes that seemed to lure her in. “If you say so. At least we don’t have kids coming in just their swimsuits.”

“You must not have had Bolin in your class yet.”

“...please don’t tell me…”

“Oh yes, complete with an inflated rubber duck. The good news is that it’s an older suit so he’s covered.”

“Spirits give me strength.”

Kazami lost it then, laughing at the horrified look on Lin’s face. A hand reached out to rest on Lin’s toned armed and the grey haired woman smiled at the other.

“Glad you find it so hilarious.” Lin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“The look on your face is priceless! Oh, I wish I’d had my camera.” Kazami wiped the corner of her eyes from the tears that had formed. “Your outfit is great though, I meant to tell you. The green does great things for your eyes.”

Lin felt a blush cross her cheeks, and murmured a quiet thanks to the other as they kept one eye on their students. “Speaking of this homecoming crap, are you going to the big game tonight?”

“I don’t know, are you?” Kazami asked, looking over at her. “They’re not really my thing normally but if you’re going and want some company I’d show up.”

“You don’t have to, a couple of the kids in my class asked me to go tonight. I can go on my own though.” Lin shrugged, she’d done it often enough. But a part of her really hoped that she’d go.

“No, I’d like to go. I can support the band students, a couple of them are in my choir classes as well, and besides, someone has to make sure you don’t get too grumpy.” Kazami teased, nudging her. Digging her granola bar out of her pocket, she handed half to Lin with a small smile.

Returning the gesture, Lin took the granola bar offered to her and bit into it. It’d become their tradition. One would bring a bar to eat and they’d split it. Hers tended to be nut and fruit based with either chocolate or peanut butter drizzled on it. Lin’s tended to be more protein based, but found herself leaning towards ones that were a little sweeter as they started to share more lunch duties together.

“Do you want to meet at the school tonight?” Lin asked, finishing a bite of the granola bar.

“Actually, do you want to meet somewhere? We could grab pizza then head over.” Kazami offered, moving to toss the wrapper for the bar in the trash. “Besides, trying to find anyone at those games is impossible.”

Lin blinked and felt her heart rate pick up. It wasn’t a date. Was it? No, surely she wouldn’t just drop it that simply if it was. Would she? Shit, now she was taking too long to reply.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

“Great! I’ll shoot you an email this afternoon with my number. I definitely want to go home and change into something a bit warmer to sit out in the evening air in.” Kazami beamed at Lin.

“Here, I have my phone with me.” Lin answered, digging into her pocket for it. Handing it over, she let Kazami put her number in and watched as she called herself.

“There, that’s perfect.” Hearing the bell sound, Kazami smiled at Lin. Reaching up, she took her hat and put it on Lin’s head and chuckled at the look. “I’ll text you the place. Enjoy the hat.”

*********

“Did you see that?!” Bolin asked, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Ikeda definitely gave her number to Beifong!” Korra grinned as the group stood to head to class.

“I wonder if they’re going on a date tonight.”

“I doubt it, Beifong promised to be at the game tonight.”

“It’s the weekend, idiot. They could still go out.”

“Oh my-- she gave her the hat!”

“Everything is going according to plan.”

“We’ll have to plan our next moves carefully though.”

“This ship will sail before the end of the year.”

*********

Spirits, what had she been thinking? Kazami sighed and rubbed her face. They were just going to pizza as colleagues, newly found friends. Right? Sure, Lin was attractive, there was no denying that. You’d be stupid not to acknowledge it. She also had a wicked sense of humor when you dug around for it. And apparently a sweet side. But it wasn’t a date. Was it?

Well, fuck.

“Just keep it casual.” Kazami muttered to herself.

Keeping the same dark wash skinny jeans, she pulled on one of the black t-shirts she had in her closet with the gold “Republic City High Choir” printed on it in a not completely terrible cursive font. On the back of it she had “Director” printed. Most of the other kids with this one had their section. It was a whole thing last year. Throwing a dark cardigan over it, she slipped into ankle boots before finally releasing her hair from it’s high ponytail. Running fingers through it, she enjoyed the soft waves that she managed to tease out of it and shook it out. Grabbing a blanket from one of the hall closets, the weather had said it was going to be one of the colder nights tonight, she headed out to her car.

Lin waited outside of the pizza shot, leaning against the old brick easily. She’d kept the jeans and sneakers on, and she also kept the green tank top, but had pulled on a warmer sweater over it. Seeing Kazami’s car pull up behind hers, she smiled and pushed away from the building before walking to her car to open the door for her.

“Why thank you, my good lady.” Kazami smiled and stepped out of the car.

“I haven’t seen that one.” Lin said, pointing at her shirt.

“They were for a trip we took last year.” Kazami answered, leading the way over to the building.

********

Eating pizza, Kazami learned that Lin preferred her pizza spicy if possible and was a meat eater. She also would pair it with a lighter beer, that was unexpected, but fascinated Kazami. She preferred a pizza slice covered in vegetables, and if that wasn’t available, just a simple cheesy slice would always do the trick as well. Following Lin’s example with the beer, the two grabbed a table and dug into their food. Kazami insisted on buying dinner since it was her idea in the first place.

The topics remained light, after all, they’d be heading out soon for the game. Questions about lessons, when the next concert was and if Kazami needed some help with setting up the choir shell, how the math team was going and were they thinking about cooperating with the new engineering team that met up after school.

Finishing their dinner, they stood from the table and walked back to their cars.

“Why don’t you ride with me over? We can come back for your car once the game is over.” Lin offered when Kazami had headed for her own vehicle.

“That’s not a bad idea, let me just grab the blanket I threw in here for tonight.” Kazami agreed, pulling the door of her car open to grab it.

Hurrying over to Lin again, she climbed into the car and settled in it. She wasn’t surprised at all with how clean the inside of Lin’s car was. Everything was pristine. Enjoying the subtle eucalyptus and lavender smell she’d picked for it, Kazami settled and held the blanket close to herself.

“So do you go to this game every year?” Kazami asked, looking over at her.

“Almost. Usually have a student or two that asks me to go and support them.” Lin shrugged, easily easing them into traffic.

The radio played something quietly, a soft jazz if Kazami was picking it up right. Enjoying the easy quiet between them, she hummed along with the different instruments until they pulled into the parking lot.

********

Kazami had no idea what was going on while watching the game. All she knew was that she was cheering when Lin did, leaning over when she tried to explain things. She ended up with the band around half time, chuckling and speaking with the band director, hugging her kids that were also in choir.

The green eyed woman watched Kazami and felt herself smiling. The woman had no idea what was going on with the game but supported the students all the same. She made sure to see her students who played in the band, in her element and talking about the music that would be played for the halftime production. But she also made sure to get back to Lin before being gone too long.

“How’re they holding up?” Lin asked looking over at her.

“They’re great! The show is going to be great, I’ve seen them rehearse a couple of times.” Kazami answered, plopping down in her spot.

“I was going to go down to see my students, they’ve got the longer half time with the whole court thing. You mind if I go down there?” Lin asked, pulling her jacket closer to herself.

“Not at all, I think I’ll get us some tea actually. I’ve got a stash back in my classroom, and some honey. You want some?” Kazami asked, offering Lin a smile.

“That would be great, if you have jasmine I’d take some of that.” Lin answered, moving to stand.

“I do, and I’ll meet you back here.” Kazami answered , leaving her blanket to save their spots.

Tucked away in her classroom, she hummed to herself, filling her kettle and turned it on. Digging around in her cupboards, she managed to come up with two mugs. Dropping tea bags into them, she waited until the water boiled before pouring it in. Squeezing some honey in, she grabbed both of them before making her way back to the stadium.

Kazami made it back to their spot first and huddled on the bench. Smiling, she watched Lin talk with a couple of the kids before wrapping the blanket around herself. Setting Lin’s tea down, she brought hers up, holding it between both hands and took in the warm chai smells before taking her first sip.

When Lin returned to the bleachers, she took the tea herself and held it with a relieved sound. “Spirits it’s getting cold out.”

“There’s a reason I brought this along.” Kazami pointed out, watching Lin a moment before offering her one end of the blanket. “Come on, it’s warmer under here.”

Lin hesitated a moment before scooting closer and took the other side of the blanket. Their sides pressed together, it really was warmer. Her heart thudded gently as Azami’s light floral perfume hit her nose.

“You trust me?” Lin asked suddenly, looking over at Azami.

“Well that question worries me, but yes.” Azami answered, a confused look crossing her features.

“Come on.” Lin said, standing and reached to help her up.

********

Leading her through old staircases and up the older side of the building, Lin finally pushed a door open and led Kazami out onto the roof. The sun was going down, deep reds and pinks streaked across the golden sky as dark purples began to poke through as well.

“Lin...this spot is incredible.” Kazami said, turning to look at her.

“I used to come out here with Aang, back when I was their age.” Lin answered, coming to join her. Sitting down, Lin let her legs dangle off the edge, a hand reaching up to help Kazami down to sit next to her.

“I always forget you knew and grew up with that family.” Kazami said, settling next to Lin and offered her the blanket again.

They sat in companionable silence for some time, drinking their team and watching as the sky began to transition from the warm day into what appeared to be a cool night. Watching the kids, Kazami fell into the trap that sitting on a roof seemed to hold for people. She began to confess.

“I never wanted any of this you know.” Kazami murmured, staring out at the sky.

Lin frowned and turned to the other woman. “What?”

“I never wanted to be an opera singer. I enjoyed music, and singing, but I never wanted to spend my life doing that.” Kazami murmured, setting her mug aside, she pulled the blanket closer and sighed softly. “My mother wanted to go into it, but she didn’t have the voice for it. My grandmother sang and it was just...expected. When she found out I could sing...I was forced into lessons when I was five. I wasn’t allowed to go out often because I had lessons.”

“You were just a kid though.”

“And my mother didn’t care.” Kazami answered, a shrug coming from her. “I didn’t have siblings, and my father locked himself in his study. When I wanted to go outside and play, or attend things like prom instead of a recital, I was guilt tripped. How could I not accept this, after all the effort she put into this. By the time I was old enough to realize it, I was trapped. I was signed up with a company. Hiding who I was because opera singers have doting husbands. They let their male counterparts woo them and their managers walk on them.”

A hand reached over for Kazami’s slender one. Lin squeezed her fingers between her own. “What did you want?”

Smiling, she leaned into Lin and sighed gently. “I wanted to own a bookshop. I would fill it with trinkets and maps from all over after I traveled. A safe space for all, with a little bakery.”

“I can see you in that, exactly like that.” Lin murmured, moving to lean her head against Kazami’s. “Why’d you go into teaching? Why not open your shop?”

“Being in the professional world...I saw so many kids like me. Trapped in a world of music that they didn’t want. That didn’t want them as they were. I wanted to give them that safe space. To be themselves, to love music, to give them the option to go into it long term, or just have a place where they could sing and have a break from other classes. As much as I wanted that shop I wanted to also help those kids.” Kazami answered, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the warmth and the comfort the other woman offered. “I didn’t want kids to break down like I did. To fall so deep into their own darkness to the point that they hated their craft.”

Lin had heard about the breakdown. About how Kazami had simply stopped in the middle of a production, walked off the stage, and closed the door on the auditorium. Her mother had publicly announced Kazami was dead to her. Disowned and written out when Kazami confirmed she was gay. She’d heard her talking to kids about the depression she’d suffered where she hadn’t been able to get out of bed. How confused she’d been about her own identity away from music. Who was she if she wasn’t an opera singer? And yet, here Lin sat with a woman who bent over backwards for her students and her friends. Who tried to do so much for everyone and be there for anyone that needed her.

And Lin understood so much of that story.

“You know who my mother is. Everyone does. She was a single mom raising us and I get that she was busy. My sister and I both understood it. The only difference is that nothing I did was ever enough. I was valedictorian, I was captain of our sports team, I went straight into college.” Lin murmured and sighed, shaking her head. “Suyin was the one that skipped school. Did anything that she could to get attention.”

“Well, good to know some things haven’t changed.” Azami said, before she could realize it. Suyin had started at the school around the same time she had. Needless to say, while she tried to be polite, she really wasn’t too fond of Suyin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, you’re definitely right.” Lin said, a bitter chuckle escaped from her. “I was dropping something off at school and caught Suyin trying to skip class and smoke spirits knows what. Tried to go after her and catch her but she threw a branch or some piece of metal she’d been holding, I didn’t pay too much attention to it, but it happened so fast and it sliced into my face. Mom took me to the hospital, nothing was written into Su’s file, she was sent to the grandparents who spoiled her. Mom quit at the end of the year. Neither one ever mentioned the event. I haven’t spoken properly to them since.”

She waited for Kazami to turn to her, to tell her that she should make things right with her family. That she should just forgive them at this point. But she didn’t. Instead, Kazami squeezed her hands and interlaced their fingers together. Instead of a pitying look, she offered her one of understanding and acceptance.

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore.”

The statement hung in the air, whether she meant it as friends, or something more, neither of them knew, but in that moment, as the game ended and they stayed up on the roof to continue to bear their souls to one another. Laughing quietly, huddling together, as the thread of the universe began to tie their fates together in a neat bow.

#lin beifong #lin beifong x oc #lin beifong/oc #legend of korra fanfic #lok fanfiction #lin beifong fanfiction #calculators and key changes

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marvelsdc22 · 4 years

Text

I Didn’t Mean It

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! This was requested by an anon, I hope you guys enjoy!!

Note: Alright, so honestly I never watch musicals, never have, but I did my best with this one and honestly just used the movie version of Beetlejuice(which I watched when I was 7 at daycare lmao), but I tried so I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 1359

hey could I request a jade x reader where the reader is a relatively famous musical theater actress who also goes to Hollywood Arts, and jade is absolutely smitten (warranting teasing from the gang and a lot of threats). thanks!! love ur work :) (id love if reader was currently in a musical, if you know Beetlejuice, Newsies, Six or Heathers, any of those would be SUPER appreciated! thank you!!)

Walking into Hollywood Arts, you released a deep breath since here you could be yourself and not have to hide your true self since while you tried to be yourself out in public, being a famous actress made it hard for you to have much of a personal life, so you loved it when you came to your campus since no one could get in that wasn’t supposed to be and plus you got to act like yourself instead of your outside persona.

Walking into your theater class, you sat in your usual spot when a group of new students came in, causing you to look over at the door since they were being incredibly loud which wasn’t unusual when it came to new students, you about to ignore them when you locked eyes with the girl with black hair and random colors in it with what seemed to be a resting bitch face, you gave her a small smile and waved, seeing her eyes widen slightly before she averted her gaze.

“Alright everyone, take your seats!” Sikowitz called, getting everyone to focus and you glancing beside you when the girl sat down next to you “Before we start anything, Y/N? Why don’t you tell us about the musical you’re in?” Sikowitz said, sitting on the edge of the stage and resting his chin on his hands as he looked at you with excitement “Oh uh…” you said, laughing slightly when he pulled you onto the stage “Hi… As many of you probably know I’m Y/N Y/L/N… I just got the female lead in Beetlejuice…” you said, going on with explaining who you really were and not seeing Jade’s eyes widen in recognition, you were one of her biggest idols and oh boy, she was smitten.

After a few days, you had finally struck up a conversation with Jade and you guys instantly clicked, sure you guys had a lot that you were different about, you guys liked the same things where it mattered “Are you sure I can be here?” Jade asked, you having asked her to come with you to rehearsals “Of course, if anyone gives you problems just tell em you’re with me” you said, giving her a smile before leading her into the huge theater, watching as she tried to hide her excitement which made you smile “I’ll show you to my dressing room”.

After rehearsal was over, you came up to Jade, still in your costume and smiled at her “So, what did you think?” You asked, grinning at her when she actually cracked a smile “It was okay” she said, you able to tell she was trying to keep that stoic expression so you knew that on the inside she was actually freaking out “Good, let me get changed and I’ll get you home” you said, giving her a smile before you vanished backstage once more to change back.

The next day, Jade was eating with her… Well, she wouldn’t consider them all friends, but friends “So… How was your date?” Tori asked, looking at Jade who stared at her “What date?” Jade asked harshly, stabbing some lettuce in her bowl “You know, with Y/N, I heard she took you to dress rehearsal” Andre said, obviously siding with Tori on this one “It wasn’t a date” Jade gritted out, glaring at the two of them “It was a date, she wouldn’t act like this otherwise” Beck chimed in, not being phased by the harsh look Jade gave him “Jade likes someoneeeee” Tori sing-songed, looking at Jade who seemed like she was about to blow up “I do not” Jade growled, not knowing you were standing not far behind her and only caught the last part of the conversation, you looking down at your feet for a moment before you walked the other direction, Tori frowning slightly since she had seen you.

Later that day, Tori found you in the auditorium, you working on some homework while snacking on some apple slices “Hey, Y/N… Can we talk?” Tori asked, looking at you and watching as you looked up from your notebook “Sure” you said, setting your notebook to the side and brushing your hands off on your jeans “You know Jade didn’t mean what she said earlier, we were teasing her and she was-“ “No, I know what she meant and it’s okay, you win some you lose some” you interrupted, sighing before you shook your head “I gotta get back to work” you said, knowing you didn’t really allow her to talk but you didn’t wanna talk about it “O-Okay” Tori said, watching as you went back to your previous position but this time putting headphones in before she left you be, already planning something.

After that, you stopped inviting Jade places, you still talked to her because you enjoyed her company but you weren’t up to hanging with her just yet, this worrying Jade when she stormed up to Tori, knowing she had something to do with this “What did you do?” Jade demanded, crossing her arms and staring her down “What?” “Y/N won’t hang out with me anymore and I know you did something” Jade said, causing Tori to sigh “You remember that first day we started teasing you about her? She overheard you, Jade… I tried to tell her otherwise, but she wouldn’t believe me” she said, watching as recognition appeared in Jades expression, she didn’t think you had overheard her, but it now made sense “Don’t worry, I have a plan” Tori assured.

The night of opening night for Beetlejuice, you peaked through the curtains on stage, curious to see how many people were in the audience, smiling when you saw that you guys had sold out, there wasn’t an empty seat in the house “Places, people!” The director called, causing you to jump but quickly get into position, you ready to put on the show of your life, missing the phone calls you were getting from Tori and the others since your phone was on silent in your dressing room.

“They’re about to start, that’s why she’s not answering” Robby said, gesturing to the lights dimming and the spotlights going to the narrator “Damn” Jade sighed, clutching the roses that she had in her hands for dear life “We’ll find her after the show, don’t worry” Beck assured, reaching over and patting Jade’s arm which she shook off with a huff, all of them quieting down when the narrator started speaking.

After the performance, you and your cast members lined up to bow, you looking through the crowd with a smile when you locked eyes with Jade who held your gaze, you not sure what to do, so you averted your gaze, once you were backstage and heading for your dressing room, you heard a commotion which made you return to the side entrance of the stage “They’re with me” you said, seeing security trying to push Jade and them back “Not all of them can be back here, miss” one of them told you, Jade being pushed forward, by who? You weren’t sure but there she was, right in front of you while the others left back to the main area.

“Hi” you said, looking at her and not sure what else to say “These are for you” Jade said, shoving the roses to you harsher than she meant to and causing you to chuckle “Thank you” you said, giving her a small smile “Look, what you heard me say awhile ago, I didn’t mean it… I said it so my friends would leave me alone, I didn’t know-“ her getting cut off by you crushing your lips together, her having to grab onto you to keep her steady at the force “Shut up” you said, laughing at the look of shock on Jade’s face “You wanna make it up to me? Let me change then we can go out for dinner” you bargained, looking at her and watching her nod “Good, I’ll be back shortly” you said, pressing a kiss to her lips once more before vanishing, Jade standing there in complete shock… What just happened?

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @5aftermidnight / @youngandwildx7 / @stewie-castle

Jade Taglist: @supergirl-imaginess

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you want to be added to a Taglist, shoot me an Ask or a DM!! Have a good day/night!! :)

Requests Open

#jade west x reader #jade west x fem!reader #jade x reader #jade west imagine #victorious x reader #victorious

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

Text

Oikawa x Reader ch. 4

I had no idea what to do.

It had been three weeks since I joined Aoba Johsai, and things were starting to fall into a rhythm. I went to class, and although the school was larger than I was used to, I easily stayed on top of all the work despite getting extra to catch up. I visited Karasuno as often as I could, almost twice a week to see the whole team. Also, Kiyoko’s house was closer to Aoba Johsai than my own, so I used the excuse to sleep over there almost every night.

But despite that, I was bored and lonely. Studying wasn’t enough to keep me occupied, and now that I wasn’t the manager of Karasuno, I had large amounts of extra time with nothing to fill it.

Such was the case on the Saturday morning after the second week at Aoba Johsai. Kiyoko was at a practice game against one of the other schools in the Miyagi prefecture, and I had already finished most of my homework. I had decided to pull out some of my old sketchbooks from under my bed, which had grown dusty from me not using them, deciding to try and pick back up my old hobby.

I’d stopped all kinds of art a few years ago, after my parents had a sit down talk with me about success. Before that, I had imagined that maybe I could make a bit of money by designing logos or web pages for businesses and companies, but my parents made it clear that would never be an option.

But I was bored now, so the sketchbooks were laid out on the table and the pencils were sharpened. Unfortunately, I was a perfectionist who was out of practice and without any inspiration. I ended up breaking two of my nice pencils out of frustration, and decided to go on a run to cool my head.

It was pretty early in the morning, only 8:30, and mist lay heavy in the air. It was good weather for running, cold enough that I wasn’t overheating as I jogged.

I definitely wasn’t the most athletic person, although I wasn’t out of shape either. My body was curvy, not particularly muscly in any way, but I wasn’t fat. I had major body insecurities like every other girl in existence, but I had been working on it to try and like myself better recently.

Either way, I was out of breath after only a few minutes of running, but I kept a steady pace, and focused on the rhythm of the music pounding through my headphones instead of the pain in my side.

After jogging for almost twenty minutes through town, I finally allowed myself to slow to a walk as I approached a street. The road was busy, so I hit the button for the crosswalk and gave myself a minute of recovery.

I almost jumped out of my skin as a voice spoke from behind me out of the blue.

“Hey there, are you the new student at Aoba Johsai?”

I turned and felt my heart practically stop. The boy that stood a foot away was tall with messy brown hair falling around his head, his figure lean with muscle but not very bulky. He was one of the prettiest people I had ever seen. I guessed that he had been on a run too, but unlike me, he didn’t look the slightest bit out of breath.

“Oh um,” I realized I had forgotten to respond. “Yes I am. Do I know you?”

“Nope. Not yet,” He smirked, and I fought a blush. What was with this guy?

“Uh, ok. Well I have to go…” Thankfully, the light turned, and I awkwardly turned away. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel him watching me as I jogged across the street and headed back home.

That night, I sat on Kiyoko’s bed, legs across her lap. Apparently Karasuno had lost the practice match, but only by two points. The team was improving all the time, with every practice and every game.

According to Kiyoko, the boys had been upset that I wasn’t allowed to come to the practice game, which made me feel a bit happy. It was nice to be missed.

“What did you do today?” Kiyoko asked, glasses flashing as she leaned over to plug her phone into a charger.

“Literally nothing. Went for a run, attempted and failed at drawing, finished my homework.” I sighed. I didn’t mention the boy I had run into while I was out, but I had been thinking about the awkward encounter the whole day, each time making me more and more embarrassed. I had definitely been rude. I hadn’t even asked for his name!

He hadn’t asked for mine either, I reminded myself, but at least he had talked like a normal person. I had just stuttered, which I always did when I got uncomfortable. Ah well.

“Y/n-san, you should become Seijoh’s manager.”

At first I wasn’t sure I heard her right. “Huh?” Kiyoko sighed, pushing up her glasses. “You love volleyball just as much as me, and clearly you’re going out of your mind with boredom. I think it would be good for you.”

“But-but Aoba Johsai is in direct competition to Karasuno! They’re our enemy!”

Kiyoko rolled her eyes. “Y/n, honestly. That’s not an excuse for you not to join. Yeah, you’ll probably have to play against us, but it's not like you’ll become our enemy.”

I sighed, shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’ll just go to a practice and see what the team is like, and decide from there.”

My friend shrugged and nodded. “That sounds good. You have to tell me how it goes.”

✨✨✨✨

On Monday, I went to the front office to ask about Seijoh’s volleyball club. Apparently they met after school for two hours every weekday except for Monday, as well as every other Saturday. It was a lot, but Karasuno did even more, so I knew I would be able to handle it.

I had to ask a few people for directions about how to get to the gym, but I managed to get there before practice had officially started. I could hear shoes squeaking on the floor when I arrived, which made me pause. I hated being the only new person, especially when entering such a tight knit group like a volleyball team. My social anxiety always made things awkward.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that the boys would most likely be too busy to notice me, and I just had to go talk to the coach.

I shoved open the doors, sliding into the gym and quickly surveying the space. It was way bigger than Karasuno’s gym, the equipment clearly better quality due to their higher budget.

I expected a few of the team members to be there early, maybe doing simple spikes against the wall to warm up. Unfortunately for me, the entire team was already dressed and gathered around the coach. As the gym doors slammed closed behind me, they all looked over as I walked in.

I felt all the blood rush to my face, and I awkwardly crossed my arms and stood off to the side as the coach finished talking. I noticed a few of the boys muttering to each other and gesturing at me, which only made my stomach twist. Thankfully, the coach sent them on lunging laps pretty quickly, which kept them from hanging around.

“Oikawa, not you!” The coach yelled, gesturing at one of the boys. “Your knee isn’t fully healed yet and I don’t want you to reinjure it.”

Oikawa, the team captain and setter, I remembered. The arrogant one that Kageyama didn’t like. My mouth fell open when he turned around.

It was the same guy from my run, who had asked me if I was the new student. I felt my entire body tense, and I quickly looked away from him. Damn, this had been a bad idea.

“Aw coach, come on! At least let me do something,” Oikawa said, practically pouting.

“You can do some stretches over there,” the coach said with an annoyed look.

The setter grinned, and then he looked at me. His eyebrows went up in surprise as he recognized me, and I smiled awkwardly before quickly turning towards the coach. No need to interact more than necessary.

“Hi, can I help you?” The coach was looking at me imploringly, and I quickly bowed.

“Yes, my name is Y/n L/n, and I was looking to see if you had any need of a new team manager. I have some experience from my last school, and I would love to get involved here.”

The coach looked surprised, but then he smiled. “You have the most perfect timing. Our official team manager just quit, so we were looking for someone to take over. You would need to fill out some paperwork and figure out if you’re eligible, but if you want to stay for today and see how it fits, that would work out great.”

“Ok! Thank you so much.”

“Of course. I’m Coach Nobuteru, and over there is our team captain, Oikawa Toru. Oikawa!”

I turned around, only to see the tall setter making his way over to us. He grinned down at me, eyes trailing over my body and back up. “Hi again, new girl.” “Oikawa,” the coach said. “This is Y/n L/n. She’s looking to become our new team manager.” Coach Nobuteru spoke for me, and I bowed quickly.

“It’s nice to meet you officially, Y/n-kun.” Oikawa said, bowing back. He looked clearly surprised that I was looking into the manager position, which annoyed me a bit. I wondered what he thought of me.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you as well, Oikawa-san.”

“Oikawa, why don’t you get back to work?” Coach Nobuteru said after a moment.

The team captain nodded, smirking at me one more time before heading back over to where his team were finishing their laps.

I watched the practice on the sideline with Coach Nobuteru, assessing the players and trying to determine who needed to work on what. I asked the coach a lot of questions about names and strengths, and he looked at me with new respect as he seemed to realize that I actually did have experience with volleyball.

It was obvious that Oikawa knew his team extremely well, and I couldn’t help but admire the way he encouraged them, capitalizing on their strengths. They worked like a well oiled machine, unlike anything Karasuno had ever managed to do, even though I didn’t want to admit it.

The strength between Iwaizumi Hajime, the team’s ace, and Oikawa was almost unbelievable. They knew what the other was intending without effort, and they seemed to work in sync to slam one quick attack after the other over the net. The only relationship I had seen that could compare was that of Hinata and Kageyama.

At the end of the practice, Coach Nobuteru directed me to the club office, where I could get the paperwork to officially become the team manager. As I left the gym, I felt the best I had for a long time. The energy from watching the team play volleyball made me feel light and happy, like I had a purpose again. It was definitely nerve racking to have to learn the names, strengths and weaknesses, preferences, and relationships of the entire team, but it was also exciting. I would do my best to be as good a manager of Seijoh as I was of Karasuno.

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

#oikawa tooru #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa #oikawa torū #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #fanfic #fandom #simp

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iwach4n · 4 years

Text

haikyuu characters as british sixth form students

i low key hate myself for this but i needed to do it. it’s necessary. also i only did subjects they do at my school

KARASUNO

sawamura daichi - takes history, maths and business, but he only really did business because he didn’t know what else to take; his suit is always like perfectly fitted like he actually tried when he was buying it; probably head boy honestly; follows the rules a bit too strictly but you can’t even be annoyed because he’s too nice; will give you the extra 50p you need to get a diet coke before school even if you don’t know him; is friends with the popular roadmen type and is the only one out of the group that you trust

sugawara koushi - takes english, art, classics and maths AS to feel smarter; says he regrets taking art like 20 times a day but still always has amazing pieces; the one kid that’s sort of in a lot of friend groups but has like two genuine close friends; the go-to if you need to copy homework because he’s always done it and will let you even if its as the teacher is collecting it; the only boy who actually tries on non-uniform day and has really nice outfits; makes you nervous if you don’t know him well because he seems too nice

azumane asahi - takes textiles, english and psychology but textiles was the only one he really wanted to do; the guy you’re scared of before you get sat next to him and it turns out he’s a sweetheart; you can’t remember the last time you saw him wearing a blazer; you ask to copy his homework because he seems smart and sort of put together but it turns out he was about to ask you the same thing; all the teachers love him; probably plays rugby honestly

tanaka ryuunosuke - takes PE, drama and french but he only did french because he liked the teacher he had for GCSE and didn’t fail it; if you’re in the same group as him for drama you have to yell at him to actually act properly but once you do he’s actually good; never has a tie; definitely the guy who yells at girls like “ayo miss! miss!!! miss can i chat to you!!!!!” even though he always gets ignored; is a roadman and is friends with roadmen but is actually nice to most people, you still don’t trust him tho; acts friendly with teachers even though they hate him

nishinoya yuu - takes PE, biology and psychology because he was told they work well together but is failing all of them; constantly on report and in detention; you don’t trust him because he’s friends with roadmen and is generally popular but when you talk to him he’s actually alright, none of your friends who haven’t talked to him believe you though; always begging to copy your homework and if you say no he’ll offer you like,,, 20p; always gets picked to do the 100m on sports day and holds the school record for it

hinata shoyo - takes PE, geography and psychology, cried when he found out there was maths in all of them; got low-key bullied in years 7-9 but is now generally well liked; mocked for his height and gets offended even though its in good nature; is that one kid who’s friends with all the popular people but unless you’ve had a class with him you literally haven’t heard of him; forgets its non-uniform day every single time; does shitty bike tricks while cycling down the road to school, there’s a video that everyone has seen of him falling off

kageyama tobio - takes PE, french and business, he was going to take maths because he didn’t know what else but his GCSE grade wasn’t high enough; the one quiet kid in class who’s just intimidating and will not speak to you if you sit next to him; is generally considered popular but when you think about it you have no clue if he has any friends; yells at you for not taking the mandatory non a-level PE sessions seriously; always buys a yazoo or capri sun from he school canteen; literally just completely zones out in study periods

tsukishima kei - takes history, classics, german and english, all of them full course coz he’s a dickhead (i say this but i am also taking four full course); you can’t remember the last time you saw him take actual notes in a lesson but he’s still got amazing grades; if there’s ever a debate in lessons he gets annoyed and swears and gets sent out; in detention for using his phone a lot coz he literally doesn’t care; always has beef with the roadmen, one time he got into a physical fight with one of them and won; won’t snitch on you for breaking any rules UNLESS he actively dislikes you

yamaguchi tadashi - takes art, graphic design and english; literally lives in the art and tech building and is best friends with all the teachers; other than tsukishima all his friends are girls; the one guy everyone thinks is gay but he just isn’t; sometimes brings like a whole box of celebrations into school and as long as he sort of recognises your face he will offer you one; he has really neat notes but he owns like one highlighter and its bright orange which ruins it; will let you take pictures of him for your art project

yachi hitoka - takes art, textiles, business and AS maths; always has the cutest outfits with pretty pastel jumpers and subtle necklaces; actively avoids eye contact whenever a teacher is asking a question even though she always knows the answer; is terrified walking past roadmen and football fields (she’s been hit in the head with the ball too many times); will buy you food from the canteen if you don’t have enough; no one knows where she goes at lunch but they never see her around and never see her leave; became a prefect because her teacher said she should; runs a textiles club for KS3

shimizu kiyoko - takes geography, maths, business and AS further maths; everyone thought she’d be like head girl but she didn’t even run for it; she’s too used to ignoring guys trying to talk to her so if you actually need to speak to her about something important good luck; is invited to every party but never goes; had THE biggest glow up from year 7; stays at school over lunch even though sixth formers can leave, can always be found at one specific bench or in her geography teacher’s classroom

NEKOMA

kuroo tetsurou - takes chemistry, physics, german and AS maths even though he was told not to do german coz it didn’t suit his other subjects; is somehow good at everything - gets good grades, really good at sports, you see videos on his instagram of him playing guitar - its genuinely unfair; is friendly with teachers and they love him; if a teacher suggests a movie lesson he will immediately ask for either bee movie, shrek or some shitty one off youtube (killer bean anyone?); is friends with literally everyone; this is a direct description of the one guy at my school who just is kuroo

yaku morisuke - takes french, geography, economics, and AS maths; plays cricket and helps run the club for year 7s, but only because it was required to be a prefect; is friendly with roadmen but the minute they leave he'll have the most disgusted and pained expression; seems really smart and put together but you've seen him swear like a sailor when he misses the bus and get blackout drunk at a party so you really don't know what to think

kenma kozume - takes computer science, maths and business; always in the computer rooms or the tech block because those are the places you can use your phone; you think he has no friends until you see him talking to the popular boys; everyone knows who he is even if like 2% of people have actually spoken to him; skips PE to sit in the toilet on his phone; always has spare everything but you can't tell coz its all just loose in his bag

yamamoto taketora - takes PE, history and english; has played basketball every single lunchtime since year 7 and he's not about to stop now; uses over-the-top compliments to chat up girls and then calls them clapped when they reject him; is trying his best with school work but is struggling, if you sit next to him please help him; is mates with everyone he's ever sat next to and will fist-bump you when you walk past each other; is obsessed with a specific instagram model and everyone calls him a simp for it

lev haiba - takes drama, PE and psychology coz they're the "easy" subjects (he's barely passing any of them); tries to be friendly with teachers but then he says something bad and it backfires; constantly has a massive bag of doritos with him and gets crumbs everywhere; still wears his shirts from year 11 coz he didn't want to buy new ones; talks to girls in younger years and is constantly called a nonce for it even though he never dates any of them; wannabe roadman that the roadmen don't really like

AOBA JOHSAI

oikawa tooru - takes physics, maths, and business and he's Struggling but he won't let anyone see that; the one guy that everyone likes and you had a crush on for like two weeks and then regretted it for the rest of your life; friends with all the roadmen and dresses like one but doesn't act like them (he's worse); talks to and dates year 10 girls but no one calls him a nonce for some reason; when you first see him you think 'damn he's hot' but a week later you're actively avoiding him in the corridors; puts porn on his snapchat story and captions it 'mood'

iwaizumi hajime - takes PE, biology and business; "friends" with all the roadmen but you get the feeling he wants to be literally anywhere else; always yelling and takes every joke too seriously; shoves his PE kit in the same part of his bag as all his books and has to pull out his sweaty shirt to get to his pencilcase; will be nice to you if you sit next to him but it feels forced; always has a cherry pepsi and a pack of wine gums or dolly mix in his bag and he won't share any with you

mattsukawa issei - takes english, biology and german even though they're ridiculously mismatched; he's not a known druggie but you're like 99% sure he's stoned all the time; will talk to you randomly if he recognises you but its intimidating coz he's popular; you can't tell if he's a virgin or if he gets mad bitches; asks uncomfortable questions in sex ed and has a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time; always late to every lesson and form time; gets blackout drunk in a field at least once a week

hanamaki takahiro - takes latin, history, german and AS english; you think he's dumb until you sit next to him in a lesson and he knows all the answers to everything; he's the nicest ever if he's on his own but if he's with his friends you have to avoid him; he came to cricket club once and now he gets put in the matches if they don't have enough people; tries to keep his stupid silver puffer jacket on in lessons; will wolf-whistle at girls to show off to his mates; you'd trust him with your drink at a party but you're too nervous to approach him

kyoutani kentarou - takes english, biology and maths but it barely matters coz he's never in lessons; school cryptid; you don't know if he's in exclusion or just not in school; if a cover teacher calls out his name in the register everyone jokingly says he's dead; will fight a roadman with 0.5% of an excuse; if you're not a roadman or chav he's acc really cool and will be your friend; has a million friends outside of school and if you want some drugs, whether its weed or like, meth, he knows a guy; probably a skater

kunimi akira - takes maths, computing, economics and AS further maths but is miserable about it coz none of his friends took mathsy subjects; just sits quietly and stares at the teacher, he barely takes notes but still gets good grades; asks to copy your homework right before the lesson and then bullies you for making mistakes in it; you see him pouring monster energy in his waterbottle before school; says he's gonna drop further maths every lesson but never does; sleeps in lunchtime detentions

SHIRATORIZAWA

ushijima wakatoshi - takes history, classics, latin and AS english; definitely plays rugby; you wonder if he even has a social life because he's always at a sports club or doing schoolwork every lunch time and after school; never has a fucking coat even if its below freezing; his parents buy him beer and cider that he drinks while just chilling in his room; probably the one guy you know who lives just,,, in the woods; his instagram has one picture and its of him shirtless, it has hundreds of likes but he was last online 20 weeks ago

tendou satori - takes drama, computing and maths; got really bullied in like,,, years 7-9 but now just sticks to his friend group and is fine; his hobby is annoying his teachers and is a bit of a class clown; turns the wifi setting off on the school computers and plays the google dinosaur game in lessons even though he's literally doing computing alevel; somehow always gets away with not doing his homework; the only weeb in the entire school, is angry about that fact constantly; drinks way too much monster energy, he's 50% of the local corner shop's profit

semi eita - takes music, maths, and business; you think he only took music because people think its an easy subject but he's genuinely good at it and is predicted an A*; every girl in younger years has a crush on him and it worries him; he lives in the music block; had a year 8 emo phase and will murder you if you bring it up; drinks the white monster more than he drinks water; sort of tiktok famous for his bass videos and no one believes he's british; also probably a skater

bokuto koutarou - takes PE, english and drama but is Struggling in english; wears a coat every single day, even if its boiling hot; plays subway surfers on his phone in study periods and somehow never gets caught; has popular friends but prefers his other friends; slaps his mates ass in the PE changing rooms (says no homo tho); has to type his exams because his handwriting is too messy; has a love-hate relationship with his teachers; buys custard donuts from the local supermarket every morning

FUKURODANI

akaashi keiji - takes RS, french, classics and english AS; the one guy you've never spoken to but trust more than anyone you know; every teacher wants him for their subject on open evening; really needs a nap. seriously get the boy some sleep; no one thought he was attractive until like year 9 - 10 and is now just The pretty boy; goes to costa every day before school and somehow can afford that; mentors year 10s in english and french and looks like he hates every second of it

OTHER

astumu miya - does PE, business and computing, is still useless at programming; loudly and carelessly discusses his sex life with no shame whatsoever; looks really good in the suit and just in general but makes you hate yourself for thinking that; he would get a perm. he would; on the rugby team and threatens to rugby tackle everyone constantly; does hard drugs at parties; tries to chat up any alt / goth / grunge girl he sees even thought they all immediately hate him

sakusa kiyoomi - takes PE, biology and sociology; got bullied for being a germaphobe but never gave two shits about it; rude as shit to all the roadmen but is generally chill with anyone else; one of very few people who wore a black suit and it looks damn good; somehow got into the popular-but-not-quite-roadmen group by sixth form; brings his own hot lunch in like a thermos because the school food is nasty but he needs hot lunch; just wears like a t shirt, jeans and a leather jacket on non-uniform days but somehow looks like a god

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