#i wake up every day and dread going into campus! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonchildstyles · 6 months

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Ooooh I would love to see Prosecco h taking care of his pretty girl when she is sick :( and maybe she doesn’t tell him she’s sick but he finds out and is like 🥺

sooooo! I changed this just a little but I hope you still like it! thank you sm for requesting!!!!

wordcount: 7.5k

—————

(Y/N) smiled, listening back to the voicemail Harry left for her this morning.

Those small gifts had become her favorite thing to wake up to, eager to hear his voice and know that he was thinking of her even when he had been in a rush to get to the office. More often than not, she was greeted with a stream of consciousness message about all of the things he was doing or needed to get done before he could head out, along with tender declarations that he would talk to her soon, and that she was on his mind. It was never anything particularly grand or cloyingly romantic, but (Y/N) saved every single one of them. Hearing his voice was a part of her morning routine now, she couldn't go without.

Though she was just as in love with this recording as the others, there was a slight sticky quality to his voice this morning. It was extra thick, seemingly heavy on his tongue as if he had a stuffy nose. But, he didn't mention anything about feeling under the weather.

She would have to check up on him later, she decided. Send him a text or call him on his lunch to make sure it wasn't anything more than allergies or those cold symptoms that seemed to pop up in the morning before a cup of coffee could flush out his sinuses.

Once the voicemail ended, Harry finishing with a small "I love you", (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear, scanning through the rest of the notifications she ignored in favor of hearing his voice. There was nothing more to read than a couple of flags reminding her the schedule she had input on her phone and some social media messages from the girls she was growing closer to from her classes.

Bypassing those minute messages, she pulled up Harry's contact thread. Typing out a message, she reveled in the soft cushioning of her bed with her boyfriend on her mind.

i just listened to ur voicemail🤍 i hope ur day gets less busy but I love u too soooo much

also it sounded like u were a little sick over the phone are u okay?:(

Starting her day slowly, (Y/N) took her time getting ready, checking her phone here and there in hopes of receiving a response from Harry. It wasn't until she had a cardigan draped over her shoulders and bag on her shoulder, walking out the door, that her phone vibrated.

Though she knew that Harry would scold her if he saw how distracted she was crossing the parking lot to her car, phone in hand, she didn't really care. Especially when it was his notification that she was enamored with.

H🤍 My day's already getting better since hearing from you, love. Would it be alright if I call you on my lunch? I miss you.

No, I'm not sick, just allergies. Thank you for checking on me🩷

Her heart bubbled in her chest as she climbed into her car, a bashful grin splitting her cheeks. She could hear his messages in his voice, lingering over the soft sentiment that he missed her. Before pulling out of the parking lot she made sure to let him know that she was more than okay with him giving her a call later, attaching multiple hearts and kisses to the text.

She hoped she made him smile like he did for her.

—————

Blindly reaching for her phone to cancel her alarm, (Y/N) barely cracked her eyes open when she brought the device to her face. The time blinked up top, an early class alarm having pulled her from her dreams. Thursdays were always the worst day of the week in her eyes; she had to wake up extra early, wait around on campus after her morning classes ended because the hour-long gap between her afternoon courses was too short to head home, and most of her deadlines were set for 11:59pm that night. She dreaded starting her day when it came to Thursdays.

Allowing herself a moment of reprieve, taking an extra long blink of her eyes, (Y/N) finally sat up with the motivating thought of seeing what Harry had left her in his voicemail.

Blinking the sleep from her gaze, she swiped through her phone with sleep-shaky fingers. She absently pulled up her call log, expecting to see a missed call from Harry, attached with a voicemail to start her day with.

When there was no red bubble denoting a notification or a text message informing her of a missed voicemail, (Y/N) blinked extra hard in hopes of clearing her vision. When she recovered, coming to her senses more and more, there was still nothing to be seen.

Harry hadn't called her.

A pout formed on her lips. He never missed calling her in the morning. Since this had become a regular thing, there was never a morning Harry missed greeting her, starting both of their days off with a sweet message. She hoped he was alright.

Pulling up his text thread, she typed out a quick message.

good morning honey ! are you doing okay? i didn't get a voicemail from u so I wanted to make sure !! miss and love u so much call me when you can:)))))

When the receipts didn't quickly change to read, she took in a sigh. While it wasn't like him, there was a possibility that he woke up too late in the morning to give her a call like usual and didn't have time. There was always the chance that he had taken a late night hours before, working hard and allowing him to lie in this morning.

(Y/N) was willing to convince herself of either scenario, pushing her imagination along with the terrible ideas sprouting. She just hoped he was okay.

—————

Sitting in the quad, breathing in the first airs of autumn with her headphones covering her ears, (Y/N) didn't rush away from her textbook when she felt her phone vibrate. Finishing off her notes, she waited a moment longer, rereading what she had transcribed before plucking up her phone. The name on her notification had her heart skipping a beat

H🤍

Sorry, sweetheart. I woke up late this morning, and have been rushing around the offie all day. I didn't mean to ignore you, I'm so so sorry. Maybe I can call you tonight, on my way home? Love you so much.

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked, reading over his message. Honestly, a chunk of worry she hadn't realized she had been holding onto evaporated. The reassurance that he was okay, and none of the haywire scenarios that she had forced to the back of her mind had even been a little true, was freeing. He was just having a Thursday, just like she was.

don't be sorry im just happy youre okay!!! im sorry youre having a rough day:( is there anything i can do to help?????

yes yes please call me later:( I miss you:(

love you moooooooore :)

The time between the moment she had sent off her last message to the receipts flipping from delivered to read was almost instantaneous. The three grey dots popped up on the side of her screen just after.

H🤍

You don't need to do anything for me, sweetheart, you're already helping. My afternoon is going to be busy, but I should be out of here around the normal time so I'll call you around then. I miss you too.

It didn't feel right not to call you this morning, but I didn't have time. I think it threw me off.

Love you most:)

Laying back on the grass, music still fluttering through her speakers, (Y/N) smiled up at her phone as she held it over her face. It was always especially cute when he would add little emoticons or emojis to his messages.

i missed hearing u this morning too but its okay !!!! don't stress urself out too much this afternoon though just call me when you can 🩷🩷🩷🩷

i have to get to class now but ill talk to you later :))))

Harry's response came in the form of a string of hearts being sent her way, the messages making her smile before she pocketed her phone. Now that the anxious urgency she had before was now melted away, she took her time gathering her things and heading towards her next class.

Everything was turning up, she decided. Thursday was almost over, Harry was okay, and she now could look forward to a phone call from him this evening.

All she had to do was get through this final class.

—————

"Hi, honey," (Y/N) smiled, pressing her phone to her ear as soon as she saw the call blinking across the screen.

On the other line, there was a slight rustle. "Hi, love," Harry finally murmured, his breath coming out heavy, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she sang, closing her laptop lid in favor of focusing on Harry, "Just waiting for you. Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," he sighed once more, "Been a long day. Sorry to keep you waiting."

(Y/N) shook her head even though she was well aware of the fact he couldn't see her. "Don't be sorry, H, stop. I'm sorry you had a bad day, what happened?"

Before he could answer, a rattling cough was heard over the receiver. Harry seemingly pulled the phone away from himself, the sound growing more distant before he returned a beat later. "Sorry, I jus—"

"Are you getting sick?" She didn't quite believe his explanation of allergies anymore.

"No, love," Harry muttered, his voice suddenly sounding thicker than (Y/N) remembered, a sniffle of his nose sounding a moment later. "I've jus' had a long day is all. 'M a little run down."

That didn't ease her any. (Y/N)'s lips thinned, a pinch appearing in between her brows. "It's okay if you're getting sick, H. I'm worried you're not taking care of yourself."

"'S not like that, sweetheart, I promise. After I get through tomorrow, everything will calm down and I'll be fine. Don't worry over me, okay?"

Every word that fell from his lips sounded less and less convincing. He definitely sounded sick with the way he gummed around his words through a thick throat, his breathing coming a bit heavier as if he couldn't breathe through his nose, and his reassurances sounded exactly like someone who was getting sick but didn't want to admit it would say.

Harry took her silence for exactly what it was: her disbelief. "(Y/N), love, I really am jus' tired. Thank you for worrying about me, but y'don't have to. 'M alright."

She swallowed. She supposed he really could be experiencing those cold symptoms for no other reason than the fact that he's tired, and has been going through a couple of long nights. With the weekend coming up, she too could argue that she wasn't feeling well enough to finish out her week, for no other reason than she would prefer to sleep in and do nothing instead of attending class.

"Okay," she relented, "Sorry to interrogate you, I've just never heard you sound like this before."

"I know, 's okay. But I promise I'm alright. I still need to take you to the aquarium this weekend, remember?"

(Y/N) immediately brightened up at the reminder of their weekend plans. "Yeah, so you better not be sick then. I have to see the sharks."

"Trust me, I know. You've said that almost every day since we booked the tickets." His voice took on a faux-exasperated tone, as if he couldn't wait to be done with their plans for no other reason than she would stop bringing them up.

A peal of laughter left her lips as she curled up on her couch, getting more comfortable now that she was talking with him. "You're so mean," she bubbled, "This is what I get for worrying about you? Maybe you should be sick and I'll just go alone."

"As if you'd drive yourself there."

Yeah, he was definitely feeling fine.

—————

While she was disappointed, (Y/N) wasn't surprised to see the lack of voicemail left for her when she rolled over on Friday morning. On the phone the night before, Harry had told her that he had another early morning coming, and it wasn't a secret just how rundown he was feeling. She had hoped, in the back of her mind, that he could be feeling well enough to send her a message in the morning anyway, but she couldn't blame him for opting to sleep a little bit longer before heading out the door.

Nonetheless, she still sent him his own good morning text, hoping it would brighten his day and remind him that it was finally Friday. He'd made it through the week and could now look forward to their plans.

morning honey!! i hope you have a better day but its friday!!!! we get to see each other tomorrow!!!!! text me when you can love uuuuuuu

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she proceeded to start her own day. Maybe, on the way to campus, she'd stop and get herself a matcha latte. It really had been a long week.

—————

just went to study in the quad and it started raining AS SOON as I sat down:( I had to run and take all my stuff back to my car:( and I think I forgot my favorite pen on accident :(

Pressing send, (Y/N) added her new lunchtime message to the string of blue messages she'd already sent that had gone unanswered. Even the read receipts hadn't flipped to anything other than delivered since her morning text hours ago. Of course there had been times where he hadn't gotten back to her by the time she had sent another text, as well as the other way around, this was just slightly out of the range of normal.

Being with him for almost a year allowed her to learn some of his schedule. She knew what his day to day must look like, just from the fact that he usually texted her, called her, or made plans around certain times of the day. It wasn't hard to pick up on the fact that around eleven-thirty he took a small break from his morning paperwork because that was when he would send her a message if he could. His lunch was always placed around twelve to one, something she learned because that was when he would ask if she wanted to come visit him, or he'd place a call to her while he ate. He left the office at the same time everyday, sometimes a little earlier and sometimes a little later.

With the time blinking past one-thirty with no phone call, text, or even the reading of her messages, (Y/N) didn't want to be worried but she was.

There were so many things that could have gone wrong, she figured. Her list of scenarios started with his phone breaking beyond repair, and ended with her sitting in a hospital waiting room. More than half of her worries were irrational, but that was unfortunately how her brain operated at times.

Without second guessing, (Y/N) pulled up Harry's contact before pressing the call button. As it rang and rang, she knew what the outcome was going to bet but she still hung on to the final trilling noise until it finally ended. The generic voicemail greeting played in her ear before she tapped the red end button.

Rationalizing herself, (Y/N) had to remember the way he had talked about how busy today was going to be for him. This week was all about prepping for a large conference meeting that would be taking place on Monday, including hours of paperwork, presentation reviews, and running in and out of meetings with other executives. While she thought she knew his day-to-day schedule rather well, that didn't mean that day like this wouldn't force him to deter. It was more than just a possibility that he really was that busy that he wouldn't be able to get back to her before he left the office.

He would call her when he could.

—————

goodnight! i hope youre okay honey just text me when you can

I love u

(Y/N) wasn't even sure how long she looked at her phone screen, waiting for the receipts to change when she sent her final message for the day. The thread consisted of blue messages she had sent through the day, no response in between. Her call log had three unanswered calls on the list, all outgoing to Harry.

It wasn't until six p.m. rolled around without a single response from him that she was unable to fight back the worst case scenarios she had rolling around her head. This just wasn't like him. He never stayed that late at the office. There was no way that through over twelve hours, that he didn't have a single second to even react to one of her texts, even just a short one telling her that he was okay but would be staying late.

Dropping the phone to fall in her sheets, her hands limp at her side, (Y/N) stared up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Even if all it came down to was that he was so overworked that he fell asleep as soon as he made it home, that thought didn't exactly soothe her. It was scary thinking that something could have been so intense—work, meetings, preparations for the following week—that he didn't even have the mind to text her during his lunch. She just hoped he was alright.

She'd give it until the morning, she decided. Sunday was their aquarium date, and if she didn't hear from him by lunchtime tomorrow, then she was going to go to his apartment and see what was going on.

(In a very small part of her mind, a place she had shoved to the very back after everything with Andrew and Iris had been flushed away, she had the insecure thought that he could possibly, maybe, perhaps be ghosting her. While she could never imagine Harry, the king of communication, to go the route of ignoring her as a breakup option, that logic didn't necessarily win out against irrational insecurity).

Hopefully, giving him the night to rest and recuperate would be exactly what he needed, allowing him to get back on his feet tomorrow and reach out to her with everything she missed the day before.

Now, she just needed to figure out how she was going to get to sleep.

—————

There was no way she was going to get to sleep tonight.

Her brain was too preoccupied to settle, that much was apparent. She pretended as if she wasn't waiting for a notification to vibrate her phone with the way she picked up the book she was borrowing from Harry, barely reading any of the pages. She scrolled through her socials, distracting herself with videos and posts or whatever was fed to her to keep her from pulling down the top bar and checking for any messages she could have blinked through. More than once during her attempts at staying away from her phone, rolling away from her night stand and nestling into the sheets, she reached for it anyway.

This cyclical routine led her to stare up at the ceiling at one in the morning, phone at her side lest she get a message and not hear the buzz for whatever reason.

The later the hours got, the more her brain went wild. What if something happened and no one knew to contact her? What if he was really trying to break up with her through ghosting? What if no one even knew he was hurt in the first place and Harry was alone, scared? What if, what if, what if.

Throwing her comforter off her body, (Y/N) sat up in haste. She fit her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants before she was trekking through her apartment, heading to her kitchen. Flicking on the light, she stalked towards her cabinets as if she wasn't itching to grab her phone. Pulling out a glass, she filled it with water and took a long sip. Hoping the cold temperature would soothe her brain and settle the unease in her stomach, she stayed in her kitchen, leaning up against her oven, as she drained the glass.

When there was nothing left in the glass aside from a few drops and her anxiety was still flitting through her veins, (Y/N) felt restless.

What else was there to do? There was no way to fix this problem, but she couldn't see herself getting over it enough to actually get any rest. Her body had convinced herself something was wrong even if she tried to reason with herself otherwise. There was no way she was going to be able to beat out the quivering her stomach and rattling of her brain with logic.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked once more for a notification that wasn't there. Swiping through to the text thread itself, she saw it was still the same string of unanswered blue texts sitting in the black void.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shifted her weight where she stood.

Would she be crazy to even consider going to his house right now?

She, unfortunately, couldn't stray her mind very far from the awful possibility that something could have happened, that Harry could be needing someone, and that was why he hadn't been able to contact her. It was a completely irrational, worst-case-scenario mindset, but one that couldn't be tamped down for very long.

(Y/N) just wanted to make sure he was alright.

That was all she could think of when she pushed off of the counter, heading towards her bedroom with a purpose. She tugged on a heavy hoodie, the oversized shape blending with her sweatpants, before she slid on a pair of slippers. She pulled her hair out of her face into a messy twist, chunky clip on the back of her head. Grabbing her keys and bag, she didn't give herself enough time to second-guess anything before she was beelining towards the front door.

By the time she made it to her car, key in the engine and dash lights illuminating the space, (Y/N) was convinced she'd lost it.

Nonetheless, she backed out of her space and started towards Harry's home.

—————

Using the key Harry had given her months back, (Y/N) let herself into his house. The lights were off throughout the space. His shoes were in a neat line along the wall, his jacket carefully hung up, and his work bag set up by the door like usual. Everything was immaculately perfect, as if he took his time and didn't rush a single step. (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth.

She set her bag down by his, kicked her slippers off the same, before peering around the living room. His kitchen was clean as far as she could tell, no crumbs or even takeout containers on the counters.

Her stomach sunk as she scaled his stairs. She was officially acting insane, wasn't she? Harry was obviously fine, and she just couldn't let him have a day to himself, could she? This is what happens when she obsesses over things, she ends up looking like a fool, and it—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks as she stepped into Harry's room, the door having been cracked before.

In his bed, Harry was curled up in a bundle of wrinkled sheets. Large comforters were draped over his form with more sitting on the end of the bed. A sliver of his face could be seen, his brows furrowed in distress with his forehead shimmering with sweat. The lump of bedding shook as he shivered underneath the mountain of down. Did he know his teeth were chattering? Did he know he was making these slight whimper tones?

With her concern skyrocketing, (Y/N) crossed the space to his bed in quick strides. Up close, she could see the flush on his cheeks, the dry skin of his lips, the way he had his arms bundled over his chest as if he was still freezing under all the blankets and the hoodie he had on.

And he said he wasn't feeling sick.

"Harry?" she murmured, crawling onto his bed as she reached to place a hand on his forehead. She cringed at the feel of the damp skin, too hot to be healthy. He didn't even stir at her disturbance. "Harry?"

In a fluttering blink, Harry suddenly woke up, a hurried gasp filling his lungs. It took a moment for him to catch his bearings, his eyes darting around the space before they settled on her. His gaze was bleary, unfocussed as he attempted to take her in.

"(Y/N)?" he croaked, voice crackling and dry.

No wonder he couldn't call her, he barely had a voice. (Y/N)'s heart cracked just a bit as she looked at him, settling on his bed with her legs folding up underneath her.

"Hi," she smiled at him, hoping to soothe him just a little, "I thought you said you weren't getting sick remember?"

"Yeah," he answered in a breath, his eyelids going heavy once more as he sunk into the bedding, "I don't want to be sick."

"I know," she murmured, "But it's going to be okay, we'll get you better again."

A slight curl landed on his lips as she spoke. "Are you staying?"

"Of course, I am," she promised, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands off of his forehead. Harry happily pressed into her hand, seeking out her warmth as another shiver wracked through his system. As sweet as she thought it was, she was less than impressed with just how intense his fever was. "When was the last time you took medicine?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, voice thick as his eyes shuttered closed, "I don't know if I have any."

"Harry, you're joking." He had to be, really. There was no way that her responsible Harry didn't have any kind of cold medicine at his disposal.

A smile once more tugged at the corners of his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged, "I can't remember."

(Y/N) sighed, knowing she was going to have to ransack his house and try to find any kind of medicine she could get him to take when he was a little more lucid. Until then, she was going to start small.

"Have you been drinking water?"

"Don't know."

Harry shivered as she looked towards his bedside table, finding not even a half finished glass of water waiting. She had reason to assume that he hadn't been lucid enough to even remember to hydrate during this whole thing.

"(Y/N)?" Harry crooned, voice too thick to be comfortable.

"Hm?" she hummed, carding her fingers through his hair once more.

Keening into her touch, he spoke with his eyes closed. "I'm tired."

"I know," she murmured, brows pinching when another shiver wracks his body, "You can sleep, honey. I'll find some medicine for you, and everything when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, completely compliant to whatever she had to say. Shifting under her palm, he turned his head until her palm was grazing the planes of his face. He puckered his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, honey."

She watched as a sleepy smile bloomed on his features before he sunk into his pillow, heavy blankets set on his form. He was out, just like that.

Watching over him, (Y/N) felt a guilty sense of relief as she saw a shiver roll down his spine. She didn't like seeing him so down, obviously out of it with fever chills going through his body, but this was a decidedly nicer outcome than the panic scenarios she had swirling through her head.

Giving him one more pass of her fingers through his hair, she backed off his bed. She doubted he would be sleeping very soundly, so she didn't have much time to go through and find all of the things he would need to get him through the night.

His bedroom door was left cracked open as she padded through his home. There was no way he didn't have any medicine laying around, she was sure of it. She just needed to find it.

"Shoot," (Y/N) murmured under her breath, fumbling through the cabinet in his first floor bathroom.

She was going to have to call the aquarium in the morning and reschedule their reserve tickets.

—————

"Harry? You've got to wake up for me, honey."

Harry wanted to open his eyes, he really did, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't. He was too tired, too cold, too enveloped in his vivid dreams.

"Just for a second then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

Taking in a heavy breath through his sore throat, Harry attempted once more to crack his eyes open. This time around he was successful to a small degree, his eyes opening into slits. Everything was a bit blurry, too hazy to make out exact details of what was around him. He was so cold—freezing even. The blankets weren't enough.

Above him, he saw who he was ninety-eight percent sure was (Y/N). There were vague memories of seeing her earlier in the night. He remembered the shape of her smile, the sound of her voice, her gentle touch through his hair. He thought he had been dreaming,

"You're here?" he croaked, deep crackles in his voice.

"I am, yeah," she crooned to him, shuffling closer to him, "And I have medicine for you to take."

"You do?" A sudden chill swept over his form. He burrowed deeper under his covers.

"Yeah, but you need to sit up for me so you can take it and drink some water."

His brow creased her words. "No," he whined, unwilling to abandon his cocoon for something so trivial like water.

"Yes," (Y/N) argued, "You're sick, H. You need to take some medicine so you can feel better."

He shook his head. "I'll get better later."

A soft peal of laughter filled his bedroom. "I think we should get better now, honey. I know you don't like being sick, so this will help it go away faster."

Her logic checked out, really, though it didn't really make him happy to admit. "Fine," he answered begrudgingly.

(Y/N) helped him sit up, his layers of blankets falling to his lap. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the hem of the comforters, his eyes going just a bit less bleary the more he blinked away his sleep.

At his side, (Y/N) was huddled amongst the folds of his bedding. She looked at him with a softened smile, eyes glancing over his features and whatever state he must be in.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching behind herself to grab both the medicine and the water she had waiting for him.

Harry shrugged, his head feeling too heavy. "Tired," he grumbled, "I have a fever, don't I?"

Her smile downturned some, frowning at the edges. "Yeah. I don't know how high, but I think it's a pretty good one," she told him, "So we need to make sure you keep drinking and start taking medicine again."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

A huff of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips again. "I'm sure it will be, but I don't think it'll be much work for you." Before he could compute some kind of retort, (Y/N) was handing him a duo of pills and a glass of water. "Only sip the water, okay? Too much could make you sick."

Her voice was like static in the background as he moved with lethargic limbs, tossing the pills to lay on his tongue before taking down a large gulp of water. He could vaguely hear her scolding him for taking down too much right after she warned him to slow down.

"Sorry, sorry," he told her, throat not feeling quite as rough now that he drank something. "'M thirsty."

"I'm sure you are, but you need to be careful," she told him, her voice a soft soothe as she took the glass from his hand and back to the side table, "Just take it slow. Are you hungry?"

Trying to remember the last meal he had, Harry struggled to cast his mind that far back. While he didn't necessarily identify any hunger pains in his body at the moment, too much else going on, he figured they were buried somewhere amongst the crowded chaos.

"Yeah," he answered, voice thick through his burning throat, "A little."

"Let me go make you some soup, okay? After you eat, you can go back to sleep if you want."

(Y/N) made a move to shuffle off of his bed, but she didn't get very far when he reached out with heavy limbs to pull her back. "'M not that hungry," he murmured, "Stay."

"Harry," she started, her tone turning into a coaxing plea, "I'll be fast, and you need to eat, okay?"

Disregarding her attempt at reasoning, he proceeded to tug her back to his chest. Though he didn't feel particularly strong at the moment, (Y/N) helped by moving pliantly wherever he wanted, even helping him when he shifted them to lay beneath the covers together.

"'M too tired," he said, nosing at the curve of her neck, "I'll eat later."

"Harry," she sighed once again, "I was going to make that soup you like, though."

He only shook his head, pressing the tip of his cold nose into the column of her throat. He buried himself close against her, feeding into her warmth and the comfort the soft curves of her body provided.

"Later," he insisted, her voice slurring and weakening. He puckered his dry lips and gave a small kiss to the shelf of her collarbone. "Stay."

It was when he felt her hands return to his hair, carding through the swirling curls and scratching her nails against his scalp, that he knew he won.

"Alright," she relented, planting her own kiss on the crown of his head, "I'll wait until you wake up, honey."

All it took was shuttering his eyes, lashes glancing over her skin with a slow breath in, that he fell asleep again.

—————

Harry's muscles ached by the time he finished the small serving of soup (Y/N) had made for him, only small remnants of carrots and celery remaining at the bottom. While he was much more lucid, his fever finally having gone down almost a full twelve hours since (Y/N) started feeding him medicine, his body was now exhausted from the fight against his cold.

"This was really good, sweetheart. Thank you," he smiled at her when she came to claim his dishes and return them to the kitchen. In his now empty palms, she replaced the dishes with another duo of pills for him to take.

"Those should get you through the night," (Y/N) explained, "But just wake me up if you need to. I'm hoping the soup will help your throat so you won't wake up coughing again."

That had been the story of his day, at this point. In between the fever, the cold sweat, and the muscle aches, he had barely been able to sleep before he was forced awake by the burn in his throat that demanded he cough until he swore his esophagus was raw.

"Okay," he responded, voice feeling gummy in his throat, "Are we going to bed now?"

Dishes still in hand, (Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him. "Actually," she started, shifting her weight, "I was thinking—if you're feeling okay enough—that we could take a shower? I think it would help you feel better to get all the fever off of you and into some clean clothes."

To be fair, he fell asleep in these sweats Thursday night, and it was now Saturday night with the same hoodie pulled over his torso and heavy sweats that kept him warm through his perceived chill. But the idea of standing up for that long, in a space that hot and warm, already made him tired enough he figured he could fall asleep in an instant.

She must have been able to tell what he was thinking by the soured expression on his face. "We'll be really fast, I promise," she assured him, "I was going to wash your hair and everything, so you wouldn't even have to do anything but stand there."

While he was sure she was bribing him with the promise of washing his hair for him, taking the task off of his hands while simultaneously giving him the gift of feeling her nails scratch at his scalp and card through his hair under the warm spray of water, he knew he wasn't going to win when that offer was on the table. She knew exactly how to get him.

"We'll be fast?"

"Promise."

With a sigh, Harry caved in. "Okay, but if I fall asleep, y'jus' have to let me."

"I'll make sure you don't fall then," she pledged with a proud smile on her face, "I'll be right back and then we'll go upstairs."

—————

"Too cold," Harry grumbled, his bare skin erupting into goosebumps under the spray of water.

Reaching around his back to adjust the temperature knob, (Y/N) turned it up just a bit more. By her preference, the water was plenty hot, especially apparent with the amount of steam filtering through the room already, but she figured he was still fighting off a few chills.

"Is that better?" she asked, quickly pulling her hand out of the stream.

"Almost," he murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

His skin was quickly turning red under the temperature, but he seemed to revel in it. He threw his head back under the water, wetting his curls. His arms were barred over his chest, but she could still see the way he pulled in a deep breath, the sauna-like atmosphere cleaning his sinuses. She allowed him to luxuriate in the feel, hoping his muscles were relaxing as much as she knew he needed.

"Which shampoo do you want tonight?" she asked, looking towards the built in caddy he had in his shower, the cubby full of both his and her products.

"Yours," he answered automatically, his voice sounding much less clogged after reveling in the water.

With a soft smile, she retrieved the bottle, aware of the way Harry turned to offer her the back of his head to run the cleanser through.

"Fast, right?" he murmured just above the sound of the pounding water.

"Fast," she promised, sudsing up her hands before she was going through the soft curls with her shampoo.

Though normally Harry would have leant down for her to get better leverage and not have to reach too far above to wash his hair, she couldn't blame him as he kept the full of his height. His back hurt enough some days without having a cold running through his system, it didn't help when his muscles were pinched with fever chills. Nonetheless, she stood to the tips of her toes and did as best she could to get him back to feeling more like himself.

It didn't take long for the cherry-scented bubbles to start scenting the steam, wrapping around them in sweet ribbons. She smiled at the way he practically melted at the feel, rolling his neck and allowing her more and more coverage of the shampoo. It was a silly thought, but for a minute she felt as if she were playing as his hairdresser. Was she supposed to do small talk with him?

The thought had a huff of laughter puffing through her nose.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, his voice sluggishly warm.

"Nothing, just something silly," she told him, pulling her fingers from the silky suds of his hair, "Rinse your hair and we'll wash one more time before conditioning, okay?"

"Okay," he answered absently, turning to place his hair under the rinsing spray, the bubbles running down his skin.

(Y/N) couldn't help herself, following the string of bubbles that ran down his chest, flushed skin slick from the steaming water. If this shower were under different circumstances, she would have taken it upon herself to trace that line of bubbles with her own hands, but that would have to wait, she decided. The lines of his muscles were attention grabbing, but there was something in it that made her feel sad for him. It wasn't fun to see him, knowing just how strong he was, to be reduced down to shivers and half-lucid conversations all from a small cold.

With his hair rinsed free of all the bubbles, he looked to her, curls draping down around his face. "Again?"

"Again," she affirmed, "Then we'll finish up and go to bed."

A soft smile touched the corner of his lips. "Okay."

Repeating the motion of washing through his hair once more, reviving the pattern after days of enduring his cold sweats. When she gave him the go ahead to rinse down once more, she could see just how slow he was moving again; lethargic limbs heavy.

"Which body wash are you thinking?" Though she had an inkling that he would choose to utilize her products again, she still thought to ask.

Instead of getting an answer, she was surprised with heavy, tattooed arms wrapping around her middle from behind. In her ear, he whispered, "Not yet?"

"Not yet?" she asked, turning in his arms to look up at him, "I thought you wanted to go fast?"

Gazing down at her with hooded eyes, he looked at her with flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "I don't want to leave right now."

"No?" she asked with a beaming smile, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. She looped her arms around his middle, setting her palms on the slick skin of his back. The water sprayed down on her hands, the temperature no longer bothering her.

"No," he said, murmuring over the thrum of the water. A silence settled between the two of them as he gave her a slow blink, his gaze drifting down to the curve of her lips. "Kiss?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a pout, her hand on his back running a soothing circuit over the planes. "I don't want to get sick, H."

"You won't get sick," he tried to tell her, bringing his hand up to cradle her cheek, "I promise."

"How can you promise that, hm?" she prodded, teasing him some with her pout turning into a tender smile.

She seemed to have stumped him some, watching as he rolled her words around. "I don't know," he settled on, "But, I'll take care of you if you do."

With that, he dipped his head down and brushed the tip of his nose against the side of her own. The lilypads of his tired eyes were close enough for her to pick out the varying shades of clear green, the wet clumps of his lashes a dark frame around them. It was hard to say no to him, especially like this.

Tipping her chin up, she pressed her lips against his. It was a soft, innocent kiss that lingered for only a moment. It broke off when she could feel the curl of Harry's smile.

"Is that enough?" she asked, nuzzling his nose in a puppy's kiss.

"Almost," he murmured, "But I'll wait until bedtime."

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh, pulling away to rest her cheek against his chest. His skin was blazingly warm, aided by the steaming water still scenting around them. He hugged her close, his arms a loose loop around her with his nose grazing the top of her head. His heartbeat drummed a soothing rhythm under her ear, a comforting reminder that he was right here, right with her. After the hours she went worrying and building anxiety over his state when she hadn't heard from him the day before, feeling the solid build of his body and the steady heartbeat under her ear, this was more relieving than she was sure he even knew.

"(Y/N)?" he asked after a moment.

"Hm?" she hummed, snuggling that much closer.

"Are we still going to the aquarium tomorrow?"

Blinking her eyes open in an instant. She forgot to call.

—————

thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if theres any ideas anyone wants to see pls send them in:)))

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wordsvomit101 · 1 month

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As usual credit to Hiki (@shyanimeboi) for this god sent gift they grace me. The amount of lore drops got me feral, it feels like Christmas, it feels like summer coming.

I won't post all of it since it is best that you go support the original poster at here: Hikifans on X: "Here is part 3 of the story. Sorry it was abit of a long wait, was stuck grinding for satans beginner nightmere candy https://t.co/IStdo8f7Xs #whatinhellisbad" / X (twitter.com)

Anyway here is the ramble

True but I don't lust as much as you girl (no problem with anyone that related to MC, she's just not for me). If I have that much sexual drive in me, for more than 70 guys at that??? I need to check myself out for medical attention, or else I gonna feel dread every time the lust comes (it is surprisingly a thing that I saw people talk about on TikTok)

Ppyong is a deadly combo man, he is cocky but also a masochist. His appearance is so my type too

MC being a freak, as usual, you go sis ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

THE WAY I CHOKE ON MY OWN SPIT- Like wtf do you mean?!!!! Why are you doing this to my fujoshi kokoro??!!! I know you want to do it but how do you want to do it?!! Shibari? Choking? WHat Ishb Ittzdhbjsfbnv?!- *Error*

NAURRRRR ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽ MC DON'T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM ME!!!!

ASK HIM!! ASK HIM TO SPILL IT ALL OUT!! I NEED TO KNOW!! TELL HIM TO SPELL IT OUT-

*Error*

So, uh, they show a close-up shot of Juno's chest and he asks if Minhyeok is hard like his and MC is a bad liar, said "probably" and Juno calls her out on it.

And MC actually admitted and said that Minhyeok's chest is actually "wide like this"???

You did??? But then again why am I surprised that she did, they had to be kissing at some point if they stuck together for more than a decade with that amount of tension between them

Ok so Minhyeok played soccer in high school, MC and he are in different classes and they were going to give him back something they lent. But come across Minhyeok changing in the classroom, pretty standard

Yup, he knows, he definitely knows and he is tempting her. Also, apparently, Minhyeok's chest is toned, but flatter than Juno's, his abs also feel different than Juno's...

If you can't tell I'm furiously taking notes right now, someone on the dev team is looking out for my shipper's heart and I wish that person woke up on the right side of the bed every day and had their taxes filled on time, etc.

Woah that has to be some intense session you got there, I awake until 3am before and I still have energy fueling me.

Relatable, highly so, I got deadlines every day during the semester. You think it's fine when you get used to it after 3-4 weeks but then it hits you with a week's worth of exams that you need to finish within that time while maintaining other stuff outside your major, and then combine it with other stuff outside uni (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

Too high of a standard girl, if I were him, I would already be too high on coffee and delirium to even see what I'm typing on the computer.

I'm surprised he's only tired, I expected some breakdown but then again, it's Minhyeok. The guy built different

Wait that's so cute!!! Awww (∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗)

Minhyeok sure is deep in his sleep, cause the slightest noise or outside touch would wake me tf up, I will go straight back to sleep later if it is nothing but if this happens it would me start kicking before I could even think

Built like a campus crush and act like a campus crush. If he has time to be good at sports then he most likely be in one of the SKY universities in Korea. If he also doesn't go to Hagwon then that would be even more crazy

Ok rude, you not even gonna clean the wet chair up??? Even if you're my best friend, I would still drag you back to clean the mess yourself cause ain't no way I'm touching the juice that came out of your bussy

THE TENSION IS REAL BOISSS

I know what you are MC and don't worry I won't judge, just tell me how big the file is compare to others

Ok, that is it, love part 3, they feed me a good amount of lores, and thank you again to the heaven-sent Hiki (@shyanimeboi), please watch the full video on their channel. I couldn't do this without them sharing this with all of us for free at that 🛐🛐🛐

Thank you for reading through my fangirling and good days to everyone!

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb minhyeok #whb mc #whb ppyong #whb juno #wordsvomit notes

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joelswritingmistress · 5 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 16

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Warning: Brief mention of S.A.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Five-thirty in the morning. Monday. It had been the day I had been dreading since I’d been whisked away to Dr. Miller’s castle of mystery on Thursday evening. The crushing weight of my feelings overpowered the unanswered questions and the part I tried to ignore - the red flags. I was completely seduced by everything my professor had to offer, from his body to his perplexing home, to the way he looked at me and all of the secrecy involved. Magnetic was the only adjective I had in my mind that could accurately describe how things felt.

When my alarm sounded off, waking both of us, Dr. Miller turned it off and cuddled me close for another extra second or two, holding me from behind.

“I’m going to make you breakfast,” he explained, kissing the top of my shoulder. “Go take a shower.”

I turned to face him and our noses touched as I spoke. “Okay.”

Dr. Miller kissed me and my hand naturally moved to his face. Why did this day have to come? Would I ever get the chance to come back here? Were his words in the heat of our passionate weekend truthful, or just said in the moment?

“I’ll drop you off at work.”

It suddenly dawned on me that I had left my car on campus all weekend. Before I could say anything about it, Dr. Miller spoke, again, like he could read my thoughts.

“I had your car towed to your house,” he informed me. “It’s paid for. I just didn’t want anything to happen to it all weekend unattended.”

I opened my mouth to speak but then stopped.

“I hope that’s okay,” he added. “If there’s anything wrong with your car I’ll personally-”

“No,” I shook my head to let him know I wasn’t displeased. “Thank you.” I couldn't believe I hadn't even given a single thought to my car. And I couldn't even wrap my head around Dr. Miller having it towed to my house.

“I’ll pick you up from work, too,” Dr. Miller offered, and then added, “If you’d like.”

I smiled at him now, beginning to truly feel that the obsessive, little thoughts that had creeped into my brain were mutual. Dr. Miller wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around him. He was doting on me and making sure I was happy and content. I loved how he took care of my every need.

He pecked my lips and I took his face in both hands now and kissed him hard. Dr. Miller reciprocated, kissing me back with just as much intensity as he moved partially on top of me. After a whirlwind romance from Thursday night through Saturday, Sunday had been far more low key after the odd all-nighter that still left me uneasy during any downtime where I had too much time to think. I was ready to get back to the whirlwind.

Dr. Miller parted his lips from mine with a deep breath. “Save it for later.” He dove back in for another kiss, “You’ll be late for work.”

“So what.” I giggled and he kissed me hard again. “We have ten minutes to spare.”

“Mmm..” he grunted the word and I could tell there was a hint of playful frustration that lingered in his response. Dr. Miller’s hands locked mine down onto the bed and he moved fully on top of me. “You don't play fair.”

“Neither do you.”

I made it to work on time that morning - barely. When he dropped me off near the main entrance of the building I was thankful no one I was close with was around to ask questions.

Dr. Miller left me with a steamy kiss behind the tinted windows of his Mercedes and tapped beneath my chin with his first two fingers.

“I'll be back at three-thirty,” he assured me.

“Okay.” Our lips touched again and he waited until I was inside before driving off.

Things almost felt foreign when I walked in through the doors of the building I had been working in for so long. It wasn't the surroundings. I felt different.

“Feeling better?” One of my coworkers greeted me with a smile as I entered the office.

“A lot better.” I smiled back., “Thanks.”

All day behind my desk I went through the motions, but my mind was elsewhere. Thankfully everything on my plate that day was routine and I didn't have to think too hard about what I was doing.

My mind flashed back to all the highlights of the weekend. If I was being completely honest with myself, it was the best weekend of my life.

But where did he go Saturday night?

I knew, in time, I had to ask. I had to know.

The hours ticked by like molasses in winter. Each time I paid attention to the clock it had only ticked by in small increments.

Am I being toxic? I wondered. Is my current obsession truly unhealthy, or is it normal to feel this way about someone early in the relationship? Am I Dr. Miller’s girlfriend? Am I just some random girl to him? I didn't think the last one was true. I wasn't the most intuitive person out there, but I knew I couldn't be reading this wrong. The man dropped me off at work and offered to pick me up. He could've politely suggested I go home at any point in our long weekend together but he didn't.

I breathed and looked at the clock again, suddenly wondering where I would be sleeping that night. Another wave of excitement and anxiety washed over me at the thought. I truly felt like my brain chemistry was being altered from all the dopamine releases as of late. I wasn't complaining, but I hadn't exactly relaxed or turned my brain off for an extended period of time for well over a week - possibly a little longer.

“Hey (Y/N).” My coworker, Olivia, wheeled her chair across the low, blue carpet.

“Hey.” I smiled. “What's up?”

“You're taking classes down at Woodbridge, right?”

There was the adrenaline shot again. Anything that had to do with Woodbridge or Dr. Miller instantly put me into that hyper alert mode.

“Yeah.” I nodded nonchalantly, masking it all rather easily.

“How crazy is it about those girls who were killed?”

“I know.” I shook my head. “I was in class nearby when they found the first body. There was a whole crowd gathered around and reporters and stuff.”

“Wild.”

“I know.”

“At least they have a suspect in mind.”

“What? They do.” Olivia had my attention now.

“Yeah, it was on the news this morning. The police even raided his house this morning but he wasn't there.”

“Who is he?”

“Some guy named Alec Pryor. Registered sex offender, confessed to some seriously messed up shit in the past.”

I shuddered. “That's so scary.” I cringed. “And he was just lurking on campus.. waiting.. ugh.”

“Yeah apparently he got released back in, like, April.”

“They should never let those guys out.”

“Right!” Olivia nodded. “Sexual assault is the lowest kind of crime you can commit. The absolute worst. They should just kill those guys. Get rid of ‘em.”

“I know.” I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “So, where is he then? Did they pick him up somewhere else?”

My work friend whipped out her cell phone and began typing furiously with her thumbs before staring at the screen. She scrolled for a moment and adjusted her circular glasses before pausing as she read up on something.

“This article says..” Olivia angled her body toward mine. “They have yet to find him.” She made a face that broke the tension and made me crack a faint smile. “But they're on the hunt for him, currently.”

“Yikes.”

“Don't go anywhere alone when you're near that campus,” she advised.

“They'll catch him,” I said, only slightly confident that that was true.

“I hope so.”

“So crazy.” I repeated the name to myself. “Alec Pryor.”

“Looks like a creep.” Olivia turned her phone around and showed me a picture of the scowling, middle-aged man in a former mug shot.

“They should post his face all over the place so people are aware,” I said.

“I think they are.” She scrolled some more, “Oo, this one is calling it a ‘manhunt’.”

“That means he's on the run,” I said and added, mostly to make myself feel more secure. “He's probably hours away by now.”

Olivia shuddered and rolled back to her desk. “Be careful. That's all I'm sayin’. This is exactly why I have two German Shepherds.”

“I don't blame you.” I sighed, welcoming the interaction. It was a perfect distraction. I needed it to get my overdriven hormones somewhat back to neutral.

A little female bonding did just that, helping the work day move along a little faster.

When the day finally neared its end, I caught a glance of the Mercedes out one of the many windows in the office. I smiled to myself and hurried to finish up the last of my work and respond to the last few emails.

The time between three-fifteen and three-thirty felt like hours. As soon as the minute hand aligned vertically with the number six, I grabbed my coat and headed out the doors with a quick farewell to everybody.

I didn’t know if anyone was looking when I hopped into the passenger side of Dr. Miller’s car. I didn’t care. All I cared about was the man sitting behind the wheel.

“Hey, baby.” He flashed a cool smile in my direction as I climbed in and I slammed the door behind me.

“I love it when you call me that.” I leaned over and we shared a smoldering kiss. Again, I was thankful for the tints. I was breathless when our lips parted and settled beside him in the vehicle. Dr. Miller rested a hand on my knee as he put the car in drive and cruised out of the parking lot.

“Why don’t you let me drive you home,” he said.

I swallowed hard when he didn’t say anything more. Home? I had to go home and sit there and think of him and what he might be doing? I had to sleep without him? I had to-

“I’ll help you pack some things and then you can..” Dr. Miller shrugged, “Decide how long you want to stay at my place.”

Fuck. I calmed down immediately from the insanely frantic thoughts he caused by the dramatic pause. There was the push and pull of emotions again.

“How long am I welcome for?”

“For as long as you decide.” Dr. Miller glanced over at me as we drove and we both smirked.

“Well, then I better pack heavy.”

Dr. Miller’s grin widened as he stared out at the road. “Suit yourself.’

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17

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palajae · 1 year

Text

what’s after.

PAIRING ▸ childhood friend! sunghoon x reader

GENRE ▸ university! au, f2ls, romance, fluff, coming of age

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.1k

SUMMARY ▸ okay, you like sunghoon. it might've taken much longer for you to admit it, but now that you know, so what? you like him, and you have a tiny theory he might like you too. even so, you have no idea as to what comes after that.

AKA seriously, what comes after like?

NOTES ▸ uhh a couple of curse words and a kiss? not proofread, if i missed anything please let me know!

PLAYING ▸ after like by ive. | series masterlist.

THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL WAS ALWAYS THE WORST.

Even in university, you hated the first day back to school. The only thing you were thankful for was that for once in your life, you didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn like you did back in high school. Your first day of university consisted of snoozing a couple of alarms, practically swallowing your entire breakfast (a banana) in five minutes, and almost locking yourself out of your apartment without your keys.

It was the first day and you were already tired of classes. Pretty early on you were able to decide what your least favorite class was—organic chemistry.

Even the thought of it made shivers run down your spine. Just why did it have to be so stupidly hard? At this point, you didn’t have the time or energy to struggle through another class. You like to think that you suffered enough in school, worked your butt off to get accepted to college and now that you made it, you had to go through it all over again?

Organic chemistry was your least favorite class by far, and you usually sat in the back of the lecture hall because you were too lazy to walk more to a closer seat. You didn’t pay much attention to others, most of your focus was just on absorbing the material and getting in and out as fast as you could from that place.

But about a month into adjusting into your “exciting” college life, you’re sitting in said dreaded class and minding your own business. Your precious and hardworking hand was scribbling notes mindlessly as the professor lectured on and on.

Until you hear a commotion from your left where the door was. You suppose that was what happened when you sat as close to the exit as possible so that every sound from outside was audible to you. A quiet groan enters your ears and this time you break your focus to glance to the side. A disgruntled boy was huddled by the entrance, crouched down and crawling on the floor below the desks. Was he- was he trying to avoid getting caught late?

He must’ve noticed you eyes on him because soon enough, you make eye contact. Awkwardly, you turn back to face the front. Just as you get back into the groove of the lesson, a whisper from the side distracts you. Your eyebrow twitches. It happens again and you huff, whipping your head around. You were the only one who sat in the furthest row, so it only could have been directed towards you.

He glances up at you desperately, “Can I sit next to you?” He mouths. You only shrug before your attention is back on the professor once again. Quietly, he shuffles into the spot next to you and you wonder why he asked for your permission and why he chose to sit indeed in the seat right next to you.

Sneaking a closer peek, you wonder if you’ve seen him around campus before or if he was in another class of yours that you just didn’t pay enough attention to notice him. Only because there was something strangely familiar about him- something you couldn’t place your finger on.

It takes about another week before you figure out the identity of the mysterious boy. After that day, you got up without a word as soon as the professor finished his lecture and headed out. You didn’t bother talking to the guy, figuring it was a one time occurrence that he chose to sit next to you. But the next day, and the next day after that, he slips in the seat next to you silently.

Your eyes widen but you look away before he can catch your eyes on him again. Questioning thoughts run through your head, but you shake them away as you pull out your notes. Why hadn’t you seen him in your class before? And why did he choose to sit next to you again?

But when your professor starts class you soon forget about the him and focus on your work again. The only time you stop writing is when you hear a soft snore coming from your left.

At first, you ignore it.

It’s quiet enough so that the people in the row below you can’t hear it. But you can. Eyebrow twitching in annoyance, you glance to your right to see the guy obviously passed out, cheek pressed on his arm and mouth hanging slightly open. At the unexpected view you almost laugh but instead brush it off as a cough. You wonder if you should wake him up, but he seems so relaxed in his sleep that you can’t bother to wake him up.

Or at least until class is over. For the first time, you aren’t the first one to leave class. Taking your time while packing up all your stuff, your gaze constantly flicks back and forth towards the sleeping figure. Is he ever going to wake up?

Well, it didn’t seem likely so you took matters into your own hands. You gently shake his shoulder a couple times before he groans and sits up. The poor guy looks dazed, blearily staring at his surroundings before his eyes fall on you.

You grip your bag tighter, “I think you passed out somewhere in the middle of the lecture.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Aw shoot, really?”

He shakes his head to fix his hair. You bite your lip, nodding.

“Yeah. Hard.”

Clearing your throat, you tentatively speak up again, “Do… do you want my notes? I don’t really mind that much.”

He gladly accepts and you take out your phone. “I’ll send them to you. What’s your number?”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, you pause. “Wait, it’s not like that-“

He laughs and your heart stops. No way, it sounded so similar to someone that you used to know, someone you used to-

“Don’t worry,” he smiles, “I get it.”

Something was so strangely familiar about him, you felt like the answer was just out of your hands.

“O-oh, uh, alright..”

Why in the world were you stuttering?

You freeze as he offers his phone to you. And with his next words change everything.

“I’m Park Sunghoon. And you?”

It takes a moment before your mouth drops open. The familiar smile, echoing laugh, it all made sense.

“Park Sunghoon? Sunghoon?!”

He cocks his head in confusion and a foreign feeling washes over you.

“It’s me-y/n y/l/n,” you state in shock, “Do you remember me?”

You actually couldn’t believe it. After all these years, you met once again. Park Sunghoon, your childhood friend from over 7 years ago. You two weren’t the closest, but you still hung out in the same friend group and enjoyed each other’s company regardless.

You could say you genuinely enjoyed hanging out with him, even when he was the popular guy in your class. Girls would surround him daily but you didn’t really care. Park Sunghoon was cool to you as an nine year old and that was all that mattered.

Seeing him again, after so many years, was so strange. Puberty definitely hit him, and you could say with confidence (and a bit of jealousy), it only did him good. That’s probably why you couldn’t recognize him at first, and that it had been so many years since you thought about him. Yet he still kept that familiar charm- beaming eyes and handsome smile.

Your friend group split when you guys all went to different high schools, losing contact, but you were happy that Sunghoon still managed to grow up well. That he managed to make it to college and even be in the same class as you (not including the fact that he was late and snuck in… or that he fell asleep in the middle of the lecture).

After reuniting, you agreed to meet up at a nearby cafe to catch up. It was so strange to reconnect with someone you never expected to see again in your life. Sunghoon was just as pleasant as he was back then, not like the other annoying boys in your class. You figured that’s why you got along so well with him to this day.

And because you now had someone to struggle alongside with in organic chem.

Walking out of the store, you sigh in content.

“I still can’t believe you were the one to sit next to me without even knowing it.”

Sunghoon nods, “it must’ve been fate.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his side. “You believe in all that stuff?” He shrugs with a small chuckle.

“I don’t know but it makes me wonder if any of our other friends go here too.”

Humming in agreement, you reply with, “That would be so cool, but what makes you think we could search the entire campus for one of our old friends?”

Sunghoon pretends to do the calculations and you huff. “I barely have friends, it’s kinda sad how you’re like the first person I’ve talked to at this university.”

“Yeah? Well, me too. I’m glad you’re the one I got to reconnect with.”

Your eyes widen as you laugh awkwardly. His sudden words really caught you off guard.

“S-same here.”

Okay, so maybe university wasn’t so bad. Neither was organic chemistry, now that you had a friend to study and stress with. Sunghoon was like a beam of light- your savior- but not in a creepy idolistic way. He was the one that always made you laugh after a hard day, scolded you for sleeping so late, and showed up to your dorm with two heavy bags of snacks to get you both through the night before tests.

Sunghoon lets out a groan as he plops down in the seat next to you. He begins to hum a random tune so you shoot him a look. He glances curiously back at you, “What?”

“We need to focus, Sunghoon,” you remind with a warning tone, “unless you want to fail the next exam too.”

He sighs, shifting around to find a comfortably position. You can feel his movements brush against your side since he left essentially no space between the two of you. The warmth emanating from him weirdly comforts you.

“Let’s take a break,” he whines. You check the time, realizing that it indeed has been four hours since you started studying.

“We never had to do this in elementary school,” he grumbles again and you shake your head in exasperation.

“Did you forget we’re adults now?”

He suddenly sits up and you turn to him expectantly. There’s a sudden change in his expression, more of a childish gleam appears in his eyes.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t have snack breaks too.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and seemingly out of nowhere Sunghoon pulls out two ice cream bars.

Your mouth drops open.

“How long have you had those and how have they not melted?”

Sunghoon shrugs with a glint in his eyes, handing one to you that you accept with a grateful thanks.

The familiar plastic crinkles in your hand as you smile in wonder. “No way- this was my favorite ice cream when I was like seven.” You glance at Sunghoon, joy quite visible on your face.

“You remember?”

He snorts, avoiding your gaze, “Yeah. Kinda hard to when you were obsessed and ate it practically everyday.“

You proceeded to protest- who could eat ice cream everyday? That called for diabetes, cavities, and probably a whole lot of other health problems you didn’t have the time to deal with. Sunghoon then tells you to shut up and eat your ice cream.

You do, silence filling the air for a couple minutes as you both snacked on the cold, delicious treat. Each bite brought back more and more memories, and you could confirm that it was still your favorite.

Eyeing the treat with a satisfied hum, your gaze is only torn away when you hear Sunghoon let out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

Instead of answering, he slowly reaches over to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You freeze, eyes blinking a little too fast and often to be considered normal.

When he pulls away, acting as if nothing just happened, you turn your head to the side.

It was usually like that.

You’re not sure when Sunghoon got this flirty or whatever- whether it was something he learned in high school or if he was always like that growing up and you were too young and dumb to notice (although you preferred the latter because imagining Sunghoon acting all nice to other girls left a disgruntled feeling in your stomach), you were certainly surprised the first he acted that way.

You really shouldn’t have been shocked though, even at a young age he was the popular guy in school and you were just the average student. Even now, you could see how popular he was. It wasn’t just because of his looks either, Sunghoon just had that personality. He captured everyone’s attention whenever he entered the room and all the mom’s hearts as well with his manners and charisma.

You must’ve gotten too lost in your thoughts because you feel a finger poking your cheek.

“Is the ice cream that good?”

You scoff while swatting his hand away from your face. “Yeah, focus on your own instead of looking at mine.”

You gesture to his own ice cream melting, quite literally about to drip onto his hand. He lets out a surprised noise, reaching to lick it before it dripped onto him, and you burst out in laughter.

But at some point, you don’t think you can brush it off. You can’t say that Sunghoon is naturally so friendly and flirty to everyone, because he’s not.

As you noted before, Sunghoon was just as popular as he was when he was young, which meant he attracted a lot of people (read: girls).

But he wasn’t as nice to them as he was to you, usually if someone approached him he would respond politely and carotid out the conversation until needed- and then turn back to you.

Others followed him around, and he followed you around. Even from the beginning he sat next to you in the dining hall without a second thought.

And when you inquired him, Sunghoon just shrugged nonchalantly and made some dumb excuse that he didn’t have anyone else to sit with. Clearly a lie- who knew how shameless Sunghoon could be by lying straight to your face?

“You’re the only person I know here.”

Okay, maybe not a complete lie. But then again, you knew plenty of people were willing to get to know him and be his friend, and plenty more that wanted to be more than just a friend to him.

You were dumbstruck at how so many strangers could walk up to Sunghoon and act like they were besties. Even more at how casually he would reply while you stood off to the side like a fool because you didn’t make any effort to socialize and instead spent time just trying to adjust and survive college.

Plus you soon came to the realization that you really only had Sunghoon. And you could only hope that he depended on and needed you as much as you needed and depended on him.

Getting through the first quarter of the school year together, most people saw how you and Sunghoon were essentially glued to each others side. (More like Sunghoon was stuck to yours, but same nevertheless).

Perhaps they talked and gossiped, and perhaps you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care when you really did. Sunghoon didn’t seem phased at all, probably since he was used to it. But for you, it was different.

How could you not feel a little self conscious when such a bright and popular student like Sunghoon only hung out with your everyday average student like you?

It made you question why he continued to stay by your side- with a plain, ordinary human like you.

But when he still chooses to sit next to you everyday chirping a bright good morning at you, steals your pencils and erasers constantly, and randomly sends you pictures of memes he thought were funny, you feel reassured and dumb for feeling that way.

Either way, you spent like 80% of your time with him. That meant all his “flirty moves” were bound to reach a limit. A little too much to the point you can’t ignore it and brush it off.

Always opening doors and pulling out chairs for you?

He’s always been polite and well mannered.

Offering you his jacket and getting upset when you reject it?

So maybe he’s just the sulky type.

But ordering a drink with two straws and expecting you two to share it without even asking?

That crossed a line.

I mean, who was willing to share a medium sprite at McDonald’s? (Not you, that’s who).

You’re scared to think there may even be a possibility that Sunghoon likes you.

And when one day he does his daily ‘good morning’ and you excitedly tell him you didn’t fail your exam, he smiles.

But it was a little too breathtaking, to the poor you feel like you’re stuck in time, like you could stare at him for hours.

Yeah, you’re scared you might like him too.

The more time you spend with Sunghoon, the more down bad you realize you are.

You saved a seat for him at lunch today without even thinking about it since he said he was going to be running late. Your mind was already wandering off to what dish he was going to order and what food he was going to steal from your plate as well.

You realized, your feelings had been that way for a long time. You liked Sunghoon since when you first met all those years ago, regardless if you wanted to admit it or not. You saved a seat for him at the lunch table just like you did when you were kids, only now it was years later and you were college students at university.

“Hey,” Sunghoon seeming comes out of nowhere to awaken you from your daze, “thanks for waiting for me.”

You blink, “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

As you eat, you suppress the urge to offer your food to him as you watch him eat hungrily. What happened? You were supposed to be the one that protested when he took your food. But when he does it this time, a chopstick sneakily approaching your plate, you don’t seem to mind as much.

When you both finish, Sunghoon letting out a satisfied sigh of fullness and you making fun of him for it, you both leave campus together.

Sunghoon easily takes your hand in his as you stroll down the sidewalk.

Oh, that too.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but it was so natural you accepted it a little too naturally. So maybe you did look like a couple. Just maybe.

At some point, you let go of his hand and he shoots you a look. You shake your head, amused. “Go home, hoon. You don’t have to walk me all the way back to my dorm.”

He protests but you raise a hand and wait for him to finish. “You need to get some rest, especially since you skipped breakfast.”

“What? How did you know?”

You cross your arms, “I always know. Now go home and get some rest. I can survive on my own. But text me when you get back, okay?”

His eyes widen like he’s surprised. “Okay. But I’m still coming over later so we can watch the new season of spy x family. I’ll bring the snacks,” he adds with a wink before walking off and you wave, unable to hide the fond smile on your face.

The way he treats you so special, you wonder if he likes you as much as you like him. It must be obvious, can he tell that you like him?

And if you do like each other, then what?

It becomes a normal thing—he kisses your forehead, he calls you over and you both fall asleep in his bed watching anime together—he does everything a boyfriend would do.

He invites you to come over for dinner during the holiday vacation with his family. You almost rejected but at the sheer pleading look on his face, you can’t say no.

You’re nervous. You’re meeting Sunghoon’s family. You’ve heard and seen them a little when you were kids, but that was so long ago. Sunghoon reaches over to squeeze your hand as you wait outside his parents house.

His sister opens the door. Her eyes widen.

“Sunghoon! And…”

You both immediately unfreeze.

“This is y/n, don’t you remember her from elementary school?” He lets go of your hand to gesture quickly. You’re still in awe at seeing his sister all grown up to do anything. She frowns before her eyes light up.

“No freaking way, the y/n that you had-“

He almost lunges forward, yelling something along the lines of “shutupshutupshutup“ and awkwardly laughing as you stand there.

Meeting the rest of his family went a little smoother. Honestly, everything went too well. You got along great with his parents and even warmed up to his sister albeit the rocky introduction earlier.

Everything was great. Except one thing.

Sunghoon only introduced you by your name. No friend, classmate, or another g-word that you preferred not to think about.

His parents didn’t question it. But his sister did. She definitely gave a look of “what’s going on between you two?” and even worse was that you didn’t have an answer.

It made you uneasy, but you decide to focus on spending a nice dinner with his family instead of dwelling on other pressing matters like your relationship with Sunghoon. At least, for the moment.

You’ve been ignoring it for a while and it’s gotten tiring. When Sunghoon walks you home that night, he noticed your unusual quietness.

“How was the dinner? Was something wrong with the food?” He has such a concerned gaze that you almost feel guilty.

Confrontation was one of your weaknesses. Yet you couldn’t keep going on like this, back and forth in a mental game of tug of war- he likes you, he likes you not.

So you can’t help the words that spill out of your mouth.

“You like me.”

He stops in his tracks. You exhale before continuing, “And you have to know that I like you.”

Sunghoon clears his throat, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yes?”

You frown at his response. “That’s it? We just like each other?”

He avoids your gaze and you think this Jamie the first time you’ve seen him act shy.

“Do you want more? I didn’t want to move too fast-“

You raise your arms exasperated- more at the situation itself than him. Your shoes scuff the ground as your voice softly echoes through the night air.

“I dunno? It’s obvious, it’s more than just liking between us. So what is it?”

You knew your feelings were more than that. it was much much more than that.

“Now, what?” You whisper. Taken aback, the silence only lasts for another minute or so before he bursts out laughing

“I mean, I thought we were together already. Wasn’t that obvious? Wasn’t my longterm crush on you obvious? That fact that I spent so much with you and take you to see my family, you didn’t catch on…”

You stutter, gasping for air like a fish out of water. “It really wasn’t,” you mutter under your breath.

He huffs, half amused and half relieved. “You’re right, it’s more than just like. I really like you, is that better? There’s another l word that I won’t say yet but you know, just putting it out there.”

He avoids your gaze at that and confident surges through you after you process the sudden turn of events. You step closer with newfound confidence, looking up at sunghoon from under your lashes and feeling your breaths mix.

“Then... Are we not going to kiss?” You murmur hesitantly once you feel the loud thumping of your heart.

For some reason, your mind flashes back to the time you first saw Sunghoon in class, crawling on the floor like an idiot. But technically, he was your idiot now. Who knew taking organic chemistry would lead to this?

“Says who?” Sunghoon smirks while leaning in.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

Note

“Leona!! There’s my cute baby brother. It’s so good to see you.” Farena smiles as bright as the sun, it’s blinding. He carries Cheka in his arms, and Cheka waves and squeals. “Ojitan, we came to see you!!” “That’s right, you haven’t visited home in so long so we decided to come to you instead. How’ve you been, Leona? How is school? Have you made new friends? Anything fun happen recently?”

While writing this interaction, I tried to keep the dynamic of Mufasa and Scar and Simba and Scar in mind. The brothers themselves were often in opposition, but Scar often said phrases which could be easily misconstrued as playful or caring in the eyes of a child like Simba. I wanted to get similar vibes down for Leona interacting with Falena and Cheka!

Not me making Falena basically drop an Uncle Iroh line--

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The second Falena and Cheka paraded into his room, Leona bolted up from the bed. Every hair on his tail stood on end, his eardrums ringing, as his senses rushed to process the nightmare playing out before him: his brother and nephew announcing their arrival. All sunshine, and too much of it.

Leona burrowed back under his blankets and buried his face in a pillow. It’s just a bad dream, he told himself. They’ll go away if you ignore them for long enough.

“Leona! Are you still taking a cat nap? Rise and shine, baby bro!!” He felt a hand on his back. Meant to be encouraging, he presumed.

“Who exactly’s your ‘baby bro’ here?” Leona grumbled, wrapping the covers even more tightly around himself. He despised it—the reminder of being second born, and how Falena said it with such ignorant glee.

There was a soft laugh, and the hand on his back retreated. “Old habits die hard. I’m sorry, I know you’re a man now—but to me, you’ve always been my precious younger brother. Please, won’t you see us?”

A mass came upon his mattress, excited bouncing causing the springs to creak. “Wake up, Ojitan!! It’s time to get up and play with me and Papa!! You promised to show me how to play magift, remember?”

Dread immediately set into Leona. If he didn’t move soon, Cheka would be jumping on his belly instead of on his bed.

Defeated, Leona irritably dragged himself up, wearing his blanket like it was a cloak. It fell low, hooding messy bangs and shading his eyes. Bright green and discerning against the shadows.

“Ojitan’s up!! I did it, Papa, I did it!!” Cheka cheered. He spun in a circle, pumping his tiny fists.

His father scooped him up with a hearty laugh. “Atta’ boy! You got your uncle good!”

“If you’ll pardon the interruption to your merriment,” Leona cut in with a drawl, “to what do I owe this pleasure? It’s not every day when the King of the Sunset Savanna deigns to walk among the masses.”

Falena’s cheer faltered. His sibling’s biting sarcasm cut deep, even after all these years of growing accustomed to it. “You don’t need to be so formal with me, Leona,” he advised patiently. “We’re family.”

“Fine.” Leona crossed his arms. He didn’t speak the counter that was on his mind: but family doesn’t have to like each other. “Where are your bodyguards? It’s dangerous for high profile people to roam the campus unattended, especially today, when the NRC gates are open to outsiders.”

“We have our ways of slipping away from them. Don’t we, champ?” Falena ruffled his son’s hair, and Cheka beamed a little too proudly.

… So that’s where the furball learned it from. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

“A king and a prince ditching their royal babysitters in favor of singing and dancing the day away… The people would be simply beside themselves if they knew,” Leona simpered. (A smirk tugged at the corner of hjs mouth at the thought of the old coot Kifaji’s panic at losing sight of his sovereign.)

“No one in the world would rather tend to royal duties than spend time with his family. I certainly wouldn’t.”

Leona scowled.

“Ojitan looks kinda scary.“

“He’s just making a funny face at you,” Falena reassured his son.

“Oooh, I get it!! I can make a funny face too!! Watch me!!” Hooking his index fingers, Cheka pried the sides of his mouth and wiggled his tongue. “Blegh!!”

“Real charming there, kid,” Leona said dryly.

“Thanks!!” The reply was earnest, not understanding one bit of the edge to Leona’s voice.

Falena smiled warmly at his son. "… Cheka, I have an idea. Why don’t you run along and prepare the magift equipment to play a round? You can get some help and form teams by asking the nice young men around Savanaclaw.”

“That sounds really fun!! But Papa… what about you and Ojitan?”

Falena gently set Cheka down. A hand found its way into the lion cub’s mane, ruffling it once more. “Your uncle and I will be out in a moment to join you. We need to talk about something important first.”

It was good enough of an answer for Cheka.

“Okay!! I’ll do a good job, promise!! We’ll have the most funnest magift game ever!”

“That’s my boy.”

Cheka took of racing out and down the hallway. His eager, high-pitched voice carries through the wide open spaces. Inquiries directed at passing students, asking if they wanted to play, or if they knew where the right gear was.

Falena waited for the noise to subside—for Cheka for be out of earshot—before he met Leona’s gaze again. His younger brother’s expression was sullen, gleaming eyes almost sunken into the darkness of his blanket hood.

“So kind of you to grant me a private audience, your majesty.”

Falena did not back away. He glanced at the unoccupied space on Leona’s bed.

“May I?”

“By all means. It’s not like you didn’t already barge in unannounced. What’s the use in denying you a seat?”

“… Thank you.”

Falena sat gingerly for a man of his size, careful to not disturb his brother. The bed frame creaked, now bearing the weight of two fully grown Kingscholars. A shared family legacy between them.

“… I know if was rude of us to surprise you like that. I apologize. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see how you’d been doing at school.”

“A text or a call would have been more than enough.”

“Ah, but then you’d leave it on read or pretend the signal was bad and you were breaking up.”

Leona stared incredulously at his brother. Falena grinned like a cat that had gotten to the cream.

“I know most of your tricks by now.”

“Oh, good. I’ll have to brainstorm new ones to outwit you.”

“A text or a call wouldn’t have been enough anyway. I wanted to see the school that changed you for myself.” Falena gestured around them, at the blue sky waiting beyond the window. “And, of course, I wanted to see my changed brother for myself as well.”

“You’re mistaken. I haven’t changed at all. I’m still as miserable of a wretch as I ever was.”

“I beg to differ. You visited home for the first time in forever on winter break. You even brought some friends with you to Catch the Tail.”

“Whatever it takes to placate you and Kifaji,” Leona snorted.

“I think you’re deflecting. Big brothers know these kinds of things. It’s like my secret sense.” Placing his hands on the bed, Falena tilted his head back. His eyes were on the ceiling, but his words were directed at Leona. “You always avoided coming home before. Never quite liked it. Now you’re making a little more of an effort of it, even if it’s difficult for you.”

“Whatever would give you that impression, brother dearest?”

“Come on, Leona. I don’t have bugs for brains. I can tell when you’re uncomfortable or unhappy, or when you don’t want to do something. You’ve always been the stubborn type.”

Leona cursed internally. The palace servants would have called it the king’s sensitivity—but to the younger brother, it was nothing more than an annoyance.

Falena chuckled, elbowing Leona. “Something happened at school recently, didn’t it? Something that made you reconsider.”

Leona held his tongue. There was so much to tell, and none of it he wanted to be told.

I hurt other students to get a chance to prove myself. I plotted a stampede to take out the leader of a rival dorm. I Overblotted.

I conspired with fresh meat to infiltrate and steal. I dusted an octopunk’s contracts. I put together a stage.

I got hauled off to a secret underwater research facility and experimented on. I fought ancient Phantoms. And I… thought about the past, the future... and my role in it.

I survived all of that. I’m still here.

“A lot of things have happened,” Leona said vaguely. “There’s nothing for you to get your tail in a twist over. School's uneventful. It’s just me and my good chums livin’ it up.”

"Chums?" Falena's face brightened considerably. "Aw, so you have made friends after all! I'm so proud of you for finally opening up, Leona!"

He recoiled with disgust. "Hah?! Don't give me that 'power of friendship' bull crap, it sounds like something the Daikon Radish Sprout would quote from one of the shows he obsesses over."

"Don't be shy!! You've even got cute little nicknames for your buddies! I bet you stay up late into the night to talk about your hopes and dreams too."

"Hardly."

Falena laughed at the automatic, snappy response. Only he, the sunlight to Leona's shadows, could. "You're doing just fine. I'm glad."

"You're relieved that I won't disgrace the royal family."

Falena shook his head, letting red locks fall over his shoulders. "I was never angry or upset with you. I was sad because I was afraid you had lost your way in the dark. But you managed to find your way to the light again with the help of your friends. That's what I'm glad about."

Ever the brother's keeper, like a gnat to a wildebeest.

"Hmph. Despite what you say, you've yet to get out of my fur."

"As I've said, old habits die hard." Falena attempted at a chuckle, but it came out awkwardly. "... Say, Leona. Have you given some thought into what you'll do for your internship next year? Then there's your graduation...

"Things are changing so fast. It feels like just yesterday when father was still well, and we were still cubs wrestling in the savanna. Kifaji would tell us off, but we'd conspire to sneak off to explore the Elephant Graveyard anyway. You'd always beat me at chess, and Kifaji would beat you at your game. We'd dare each other to eat bugs from a pile, trying to find the one that tastes like chicken first.

"Still children, not yet king and prince, not yet shouldering the weight of our adult responsibilities. Now the older we get, the more and more we seem to drift apart, and the worse off father becomes."

"You're blabbering," Leona sighed, lowering the covers he had been cocooned in. His chocolate mane and lion ears made themselves known. "What's the point in reminiscing? We can never return to those days. Your eyes should be set on a future littered with prizes. You'll never seize them if you continue to fixate on the past."

"You're right." Falena smiled, looking properly at Leona still nestled in his sheets--but slowly inching out of them. "I've said this before, and I'll say it again. You're an intelligent young man, with a good head on your shoulders. You have skills and strengths that I could never dream of having."

"You're going to start on another one of your cooperation spiels, aren't you." Leona said it as a statement, not as a question.

"I hope you don't see it that way. No, I... I'd like to join hands with you again, brother." Falena offered an open hand, his entire being shining with hope. "Like we did in the past, this time for the future. Together, I firmly believe we can usher in a new era of peace and prosperity for the Sunset Savanna."

"What..."

Leona stared at the waiting hand like it was a bear trap with a tasty morsel. If he reached, those steel jaws would clamp around him, hurting him once more.

"What makes you think I'll accept the same speech you've thrown at me for years and years? It's the same song and dance."

"I know you, Leona. And I know that you must have had a change of heart, however small it may be. Here, at Night Raven College, you've become different."

Falena's fingers curled, and the hand retracted back to his lap. "You don't need to give me your answer now. Please, just consider it seriously. That would be enough for me."

"As always, you're endlessly optimistic."

"We balance each other out."

The sun had risen high in the sky, crowning another day. A fresh wave of heat pervaded the room.

Leona's blanket slipped to his waist, the material pooling at his legs. He emerged from the covers like a lion from its den.

"How fortunate," Leona purred, "killing two birds with one stone. A diplomatic meeting and a courtesy call rolled into one."

If only you were usually this efficient with handling your duties.

From down the hallway came the tmp, tmp tmp of footsteps. They grew progressively louder by the second, like a cheer swelling into an uproar. People coming closer, a crowd gathering.

A new game about to start.

“But unfortunately for you, my most exalted elder brother Falena…”

Leona stood at last, casting off his blanket in one glorious motion. It fluttered to the ground, no longer needed to shelter the beastman from the world--nor the world from him.

“I don’t play by your rules," Leona announced, his lips pulled back into a cocksure smirk.

BAM!!

At that moment, an out-of-breath Cheka came sprinting into the room, thrusting the door open. He was followed by a stampede of footsteps, hoots, and hollers--a whole pack of Savanaclaw students wielding brooms and a golden frisbee.

Through rosy cheeks, the cub declared, "Papa!! Ojitan!! We're ready!"

Chanting students echoed his sentiment.

"Perfect timing, furball." Leona languidly stepped off of his mattress, hands in his pockets. He was a king descending from his throne to be among his people.

He cast a glance at Falena, still seated on the bed, and felt his smirk widen. "I'm doing things my own way... and that includes wiping the floor with you in magical shift. Isn't that right, boys?"

The group broke out into rapturous barking. Stomping, clapping.

"Yeeeeah!! Let's body him, Leona-san!!"

"You could totally take him, dorm leader!!"

"Leona-senpai, fight, fight, fight!"

Oblivious Cheka, at the head of the group of absurdly burly young men, threw his arms up and squealed. "Everyone's so excited to play together!"

"Haha, you have such an enthusiastic group of supporters, Leona." Falena rose from the bed himself and turned to his brother. Sun and shadow, staring at each other in the face. "I would be honored to play a match with you. How about you and Savanaclaw on one team, and myself and the royal procession on the other team? We could ring up Kifaji to referee."

"What about me, Papa? What can I do?"

"Hmm... well, it'd be dangerous for a young one like you to play against older kids and adults. Maybe you could fetch water for the players?"

"Awww..." Cheka's ears flattened, his tail hanging in dismay. "But bringing water's not playing."

"Your dad's right, furball. Listen to him." Leona groaned, nudging the child. "You don't want to get caught up in the crossfires."

"Huh? Crossfires? There's no fire though."

"Oh, there is."

Leona's eyes, an immaculate shade of emerald circled by shadows, glinted with newfound promise and vigor.

This time, I'm settling the score... by my own rules.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Farena Kingscholar #Falena Kingscholar #Cheka Kingscholar #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #NRC Family Day #spoilers

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starcrossedxwriter · 11 months

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Built for Love Part 8 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: Ummm this chapter has a little bit of everything... Family, fluff, a bit of smut, slight angst. It also has a time jump because we gotta keep shit movingggg. And I could write 100 chapters of fluff with these two butttt we're here for the drama! lol Also another gif that has nothing to do with anything LOL But I imagine this is what our girl wakes up to every day and I love that for her

Warnings: brief mentions of DV

“So Charlie, are you excited to be back on the stage?” Michael’s mom asked as they settled around Michael’s dining room table for dinner.

Though it was a small affair, the table was weighed down by Donna’s decadent and delicious cooking, his mom cooking both he and Charlotte’s favorites for their goodbye dinner. Once his father had said grace, initial conversations had given way to the sounds of forks and spoons clinking against china as everyone passed dishes and savored Donna’s cooking. Though Michael’s family was used to it, Charlotte’s were too busy stuffing their faces to be much conversationalists.

Her face had been drawn up in a bright smile since her brother, Lauren, and Jazz arrived. The tone around the table was a bittersweet one, joy for Charlotte and this opportunity everyone knew she deserved and needed, but melancholy at having two staples of their respective communities gone, even if it was only a temporary absence.

Between the press tour and preparing to leave, the time had flown by and the move that once seemed so far away was hurtling toward them like a high speed train. Charlotte still found herself shocked that Michael was willing to move with her. As the date inched closer and closer, she half expected him to find an excuse not to accompany her. But that never materialized. Instead, he took it upon himself to do all of the planning. Time to find an apartment? Already done and vetted by Michael. Furnish the place? Interior decorator was already on it with images of both of their homes to capture their respective styles. All day, every day, he sent her restaurants and places he wanted to try, some Charlotte had been to and some she hadn’t, or asked her about her favorite spots to add to the list. His excitement was contagious, which counteracted the stress, dread, and anxiety Charlotte felt. For him, this was just the first of many adventures with the woman he loved. For her, it was returning home after running away. And that was never easy.

“Yea I really am. It’ll be an adjustment for sure. Next two months’ll be crazy. But I… really missed it. I’m coming in a few weeks behind in rehearsals but it’ll be good to be back.”

Michael’s hand, which had rested on her thigh since they sat down, squeezed gently to reassure her, soothing her anxiety.

“Only on the choreo. This girl could perform the show and songs forward and backwards right now if she wanted.”

Charlotte smiled. “He might be right about that. But the choreo is the harder part for me anyway.”

“Yea the girl was born with every talent but rhythm,” Jackson called down the table causing everyone to laugh, Charlotte leaning behind Michael’s chair to flip him off without everyone seeing.

“He never gives her credit. Charlie is a great dancer,” Lauren chimed in, not allowing her husband to joke at her best friend’s expense. “Remember the spring production of Oklahoma our freshman year??”

Charlotte groaned. “Ugh don’t remind me! Some of the worst weeks of my life.”

“What happened?” Michael asked.

“There was a nasty norovirus going around campus and Charlie, one of the only freshmen in Juilliard history to play the coveted lead of a spring production, caught it the second day of rehearsals. Was out for two weeks. The director planned on bumping up her understudy.”

“A senior who despised me and was probably hoping the virus would kill me,” she laughed. “Director said there was noooooo way I could learn the staging and choreo in the two remaining weeks before opening night,” Charlotte interjected, rolling her eyes. “He was just worried he took a chance on a freshman only for her to crash and burn.”

“Since I was dancing in the production, I could record rehearsals. Charlotte watched every rehearsal, learning every move, lyric, and note while she was sick. Sis showed up once she was cleared by the doctor and you wouldn’t have even known she missed two weeks of rehearsals. She looked and sounded better than some folks who’d been to every rehearsal.”

“Messed up one or two steps,” she admitted. “But nothing that couldn’t be fixed in the time we had left.”

“How’d you manage that?”

She shrugged. “I just rehearsed and slept in between trips to the bathroom,” she laughed. “My doctor thought I was completely insane but as they say, ‘the show must go on.’”

“Will you have enough tickets for us all to come to opening night or do we need to come at a different time?” Jackson asked.

“I definitely can get everyone tickets for previews, those start mid February. Not sure how many I can snag for opening night though.”

“What are previews?” Michael’s dad asked.

“Oh, sort of a test run? Just an opportunity to perform the show to audiences before the official opening night. Gives you a chance to work out issues and fix things before critics review it. The show ran off-Broadway first so our previews are only a couple weeks. So we have a month and a half of true rehearsals and then previews and then the show premieres March 1.”

“And how long are you all gonna be there again?”

“In total? 8 months I guess with rehearsals? I only signed on to be on the cast for six months though… March to September.”

“Knowing you, you’ll extend it,” Jackson offered with a knowing smile.

Charlotte shook her head. “I dunno. Chris would love that. But doing 8 shows a week for six months is a lot. And gets old after a while,” she admitted. “Maybe I’d do a different show, but I'll probably come back here. I promised Chris six months so that’s all I’m committing to.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, the conversation drifting away from Charlie and to separate topics. Charlie glanced around the table, a soft content smile on her face as she watched the two groups interact. It was not just each family chatting off to themselves. Lauren and Michael’s mom and sister were deep in a conversation about the struggles of parenting young children; Michael’s brother and Jackson were arguing about the Lakers vs the Clippers; and Jazz and Michael were deeply enthralled in a story told by Michael Sr. And everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there and interact. This was their first time truly combining the groups but she thought it boded well for when they all met the rest of her immediate family on the East Coast. If Jazz, Lauren, and Jackson liked them and fit in, the rest of her family would too.

As dinner winded down, Charlotte stood up from the table to bring out dessert. Michael offered a soft peck to the inside of her wrist, which she returned with one to the top of his head, before she grabbed his plate to take into the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she loaded the dishwasher and pulled out the cake his mom prepared earlier that day. It was Michael’s favorite, her rum cake. Charlie could not deny it was one of the best cakes she had ever tasted, hers included.

As she moved the cake to the island, she lost her balance on her heels, almost falling. She was able to sit the cake down quickly, it wobbled slightly in its glass case but remained unharmed despite her clumsiness.

“There you go, tripping over air,” she cursed herself, annoyed and thankful she had not destroyed his mother’s cake. As she moved the holder on the island, a wave of deja vu hit her, a vision of a cake and cake holder smashing to the ground filling her brain. She paused, studying the glass cake stand, her stiletto-shaped nails gliding over it gently. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, the memory too foggy and distant to make sense of. During most of her deja-vu moments or flashbacks, the memories hit her like she was being forced in front of a movie screen. But as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't think of anything related to this moment.

“You ok, dear?” Donna’s soft voice interrupted Charlotte as she zoomed through the Rolodex of memories in her mind.

“Hm? Oh yea, I’m ok,” Charlotte answered, glancing up. she noticed the plates in the woman’s hands before abandoning her thoughts and grabbing them from her. “Let me get those.”

“Thank you, dear. Your family is lovely. They fit right in,” Donna offered as she moved to grab a knife and small plates for dessert.

Charlotte smiled, “Thanks. I’m excited for all of you to meet the rest of them. Everyone else is fairly tame in comparison,” she joked.

As she loaded their dishwasher, she glanced at his mom.

“This was all delicious, thank you. Thank God he picked up your cooking skills or else we’d starve in New York.”

The older woman laughed. “Well anytime you want to learn, you let me know. Though I think you’d give me a run for my money with those desserts of yours.”

Charlotte could not help but beam a bit at her compliment.

Charlotte dried her hands on a dish towel, anxiously twisting the soft fabric in her hands and chewing on her lip as she watched his mom.

“I hope you don’t mind…” she started, pausing as the older woman looked at her with confusion. “M-Me stealing him away for a while. I’m honestly still a bit surprised he wanted to do this at all. But I know it’s probably hard when he’s gone for a long time. I feel kinda bad?” She admitted quietly. “I know he’s gonna miss you guys so much.” She stared at the wall that blocked Michael and everyone at the table from their vision, her face falling a bit as she felt the guilt of pulling him away from his family and community in LA. Even though he offered, she could not help but question whether she should have accepted it, accepted taking him away from his family like this.

“If I may?” Donna’s hands wrapped around Charlotte’s, halting her anxious movements and towel twisting. “I know it hasn’t been that long but I’ve never seen my son as happy as he is with you. One thing you should never doubt is how much that man in there adores you. I dare say he would try to move a mountain if he thought it’d bring you joy. You should never feel bad for accepting the manifestations of his love and commitment. Because I dare say, this is just the beginning.”

Charlotte felt a tear start to fall, not from sadness but from the love, grace, and compassion his mother always showed her. From the moment they first met to today, she never acted like those dreaded mother-in-laws her married friends moaned about. Charlotte’s mother would not be considered a constant presence in her life, a rarity at best. And through everything she had been through, the one thing she had always hoped for but never had was a mom. Michael’s mom did not know about her mom’s absence but she seemed to recognize it was something Charlie still needed, a mother’s love, support, grace, and word of wisdom. And she offered it in droves.

“T-thank you,” she whispered, whisking the tears away just as Michael rounded the corner to check on them.

“Hey, you two alright?”

“Yes of course, baby.” Her face immediately brightened as he entered the room, not even just to hide her and his mom’s emotional moment but just from his presence. “Just hounding your mom for this amazing rum cake recipe so I can make it for you in New York…”

“But… I told her she’s gotta be officially in the family first for me to share it. So get to it,” she whispered to Bakari with a sly smile and a peck on the cheek as she returned to the dining room with the rest of the family.

“Damn, she’s not subtle at all, is she?” he asked as he grabbed the cake while Charlotte grabbed the plates his mom pulled out.

Charlotte laughed, patting him on the chest as she passed him to return to the dining room. “No, definitely not.”

***

Their moans created an orchestra filling his bedroom as Michael kept Charlotte’s eyes trained on his as he fucked her slow and deep.

They rarely had sex in missionary these days, both of them finding other positions far more interesting and fun. However, when they were both in the mood for something slower and more sensual, missionary hit the spot for both of them. It offered them something deeper than pure pleasure. It was an intimacy and comfort they both needed for their last night in Michael’s bed for a while.

Looking into each other’s eyes was a meeting of the minds, beyond merely connecting with their bodies, they connected with their souls. They saw all of each other, all of the excitement, anxiety, joy, and fear of what tomorrow would hold for them. And every moment, every movement and touch between them was an effort to honor those feelings. Every touch and whispered adoration told the other that they were here and they were ready for everything the universe had in store for them.

There would be time for fast and wild later. Tonight, they were just cherishing the moment and each other before their first real adventure as a couple began.

“J-Just li-like that. F-Fuck, I-I love you,” she moaned, having already lost count of her orgasms as Michael pushed her to the edge of another one.

She could tell he was close as he picked up the pace a bit. Her hips rocked slightly to meet his, her core pulsing and tightening around him causing a primitive moan to escape him.

It only took a moment for him to fill her before he rolled off of her.

“You good?” He asked, a question he usually asked when they finished up, whether the session was slow and sensual or had her doing acrobatics. And the answer was always in the same vein: she was more than good.

“Excellent. I could fall asleep j-just like this,” she yawned, knowing that her sleep after sex was always elite, Michael tiring her out to the point where she could not do much else. However, before she did, she got up to go to the bathroom, Michael talking to her as she groped her way through the darkness of his room.

“You ready for tomorrow?” He asked as he found his briefs to slide on and climb back into bed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she called back. “You sure you still wanna come? Not too late to back out. Well, we signed a lease, on a way too expensive apartment, I might add… so it’s a bit late. But you could still do it.”

Though her tone had the intent of a joke, Michael could still hear it, her hesitation and fear that let him know she was still concerned he would abandon her. He knew she would not truly believe him until they were moved in and settled but he was genuinely excited to go with her. Not just to support her and provide her with some sense of safety while she was there, but to witness this next stage in her career. This was her dream and he saw no better use of his time than watching her fulfill it. He knew why she was hesitant, they had only been dating for mere months. However, when he looked at Charlotte, he saw a perfect glittering gold path to a future he had never given much thought to because he had always been too focused on the hustle, a marriage and a family like the one his parents had built. To him, this was one step down that path and he would never regret taking it. Part of him was annoyed he would have to return to LA in June for another project before her time in New York ended but he decided he would savor the initial six months of uninterrupted time together.

“You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, honey bee. And after living with me in New York, maybe that’ll convince you to move in with me when we get back?” He asked as she washed her hands.

She poked her head out into the room to look at him, finding that his face matched the seriousness of his tone and words.

“What? Y-You want me to move in? Here?”

He continued to surprise her with his level of commitment and dedication overall. However, just as she was about to doubt he truly meant it, his mother’s words floated back to her mind.

"Well, it wouldn't be here forever. Just till we found a new spot… something that's ours," he emphasized. “We’re gonna live together for at least 6 months in New York… if it works out and you don’t absolutely hate me by the end,” he joked, “Why not? What? You don’t think we should?"

She shrugged as she climbed back into his bed. “No, no, I’m not saying that at all. I mean I basically live here as it is,” she admitted. “I g-guess I just didn’t think about what living together in New York would mean for when we got back? Of course, you thought of it though. You think ahead and have a plan for everything.”

Michael was glad she could not see his face as she settled against his chest. She truly had no idea how far ahead his planning went when it came to her.

“Well, I just know what I want and I don’t believe in wasting time. But I’m not sayin’ you gotta decide now or anything. Let’s see how New York goes. I just wanted to see if you’d be interested in it.”

“Yea, I’m interested.”

He nodded. “Now are you gonna tell me what you and my momma were talking about earlier? You looked upset?”

Charlotte chuckled, she turned over so her chest was against his, her ear pressed against his chest. The light thumps of his heart filled her ear like a soothing drumbeat. “I should’ve known you weren’t gonna let that go… I wasn’t upset. She j-just said something I needed to hear.”

She felt his lips press against the top of her head, her eyes falling closed for a moment. She appreciated that he did not press any further for information.

“Yea, I don't know how she does that. It's kinda creepy, honestly… that mother's intuition."

“Yea, its like she sees into your soul or something." Her last words turned into a mumble as she yawned and her eyes fell closed.

All Michael could do was chuckle before kissing her forehead and falling asleep himself, her gentle snores filling his ears.

***

Charlotte glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their new apartment on the edge of the Upper West Side. It was as beautiful and pristine as the pictures Michael had shown her. They were high enough to have a great view of the city from their balcony. It was in the perfect location too for work and there was so much around for her and Michael to do. The furnishings were perfect, the exact mix of her and Michael’s individual interior style. She knew he hired a designer but it was clear the person knew their shit. The house already felt warm, cozy, and safe, all the things Charlotte needed, and they had only been in it for an hour.

“What are you thinking?” He asked from the couch as he scrolled through his phone, both of them avoiding the dreaded unpacking they had to do.

“I’m thinking about my crappy little studio apartment when I first graduated… and my two bedroom with one of my college friends for those few months…” she paused, that apartment was a graveyard of bad memories. “Before I moved. I’ve j-just come up in the world, I guess.”

Bakari beckoned her to him, the young woman leaving her perch against the window to join him. The moment she was in arm’s length, he gently pulled her down onto his lap, Charlotte nestling into him with ease.

“This place is insane, Bakari. I mean I love it but I still think it’s too much,” she remarked, she raised her hands as if to surrender, knowing she was bringing up a touchy subject for them both.

“Aht aht. We came to an agreement on that,” he lightly kissed her bare shoulder.

She nodded, neither of them wanting to fall back into their first true argument of their relationship a few months earlier.

“So what do you think?”

Charlotte laughed. “I think I could fit 5 or 6 of my first apartment in that place,” she gestured toward his laptop as he flipped through photos of a high-rise three-bedroom apartment. “I mean it’s gorgeous but I don’t think I can afford it.”

“Yea but I can. It’s perfect. Really solid security, there’s only one apartment on each floor so it’s pretty private. And it's only 15 minutes from the theaters so when you finish up evening shows, it’s not a long drive. It’s perfect for us. Don’t think about the cost. Do you like it?”

“Yes, I love it but,” she chuckled. “Creed was my first real check in two years, babe. And I still gotta pay for my apartment here. I don’t really have the luxury of not thinking about the cost of things.”

“Ok but I’m sayin’ you don’t have to think about it cause I got it.”

“Well how much do you want me to contribute a month? If we go 50/50, it would be tight but I could swing it then, I guess.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “ I wasn’t expecting you to contribute anything. We ain’t roommates, Els.”

She shook her head, pushing off of the couch to pace in his living room, her annoyance officially rising. Finances continued to be a touchy subject for the pair. However, usually, Charlotte only put up so much of a fight before she gave in. But she could not give in on this, not today.

“It’s one thing for you to always pay for dinners and shit like that but you can’t pay all of our rent while we’re there. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why can’t I?” He asked, his tone signaling that he did not understand the seriousness of the conversation for Charlotte in the slightest. He still did not quite understand her hang up with finances. He knew it was part of the cycle of abuse but he had no problem spending money on her if need be. She had only just stopped fighting him on paying for dates. Though he was not the type of celebrity who blew all of his money on frivolous things, Michael also did not pretend money was a significant consideration in his decisions because it just wasn’t. And he would never apologize for wanting to spend his money on her, for wanting to support her.

“B-Because I…” Charlotte stopped herself from finishing the sentence, Don’t want you to be able to control me that way. But she knew that was not his way.“T-then it’s y-your house a-and not mine. I-I would just feel more comfortable i-if you let me contribute something. L-Let me pay for half? Besides, you’re gonna be in LA sometimes, full time in the summer. You shouldn’t pay the full amount every month like you’re gonna be there the whole time.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Charlotte. I don’t need your money and I don’t want it.” His tone signaled that he hoped to get the final word in and end the discussion.

She could not help but feel frustrated like he was not hearing her. But she understood why he did not see this situation through her eyes. “I-It’s not about you n-needing it!” She cried out, Michael suddenly realizing her unexpected outburst meant more simmered beneath the surface than her just wanting to contribute. She took a deep breath, not wanting to start an argument with him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

He rubbed her shoulders and nodded, “Ok just breath for a second, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would bother you this much. I just.. I wanted you to have a serene, safe place to live and work while you’re there a-and I wasn’t gonna ask you to pay because money wasn’t a factor when I chose it. I just want you to be comfortable while we’re there.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew she shouldn’t push him on the finances piece so much. But she refused to ever let a man hold her livelihood over her head again. Where she laid her head was important and even though she stayed at Michael’s most of the time, she could at least retreat to her home if she ever needed it. She did not want the only place she had to lay her head to be not in her control at all.

“Look, I-I appreciate it. That place is beautiful a-and perfect. I love it, truly. But… t-this is the first time I’m living with a guy since Shaun a-and the a-amount of times he held t-the fact that it w-was his h-house instead of mine o-over me…” she exhaled deeply as if she could release the memories into the air with her breath. “I-If I d-don’t contribute something then it’ll be your house and not ours. I k-know you don’t need it o-or want it. But I need it. I need it to feel like I have an equal claim to it. Please.”

At that, Michael decided not to push any further. He understood her triggers were real and legitimate and if it gave her a sense of autonomy and control to pay him, he would not let his ego get in the way of that.

“Understood. I’m sorry,” he kissed her cheek. “I didn’t think about that. This’ll be our home and I want you to feel like it. How about you deal with all the utilities and I get the rent?”

She could not help but laugh a bit at his “compromise.” “Those things aren’t comparable at all, babe,” she muttered.

“Monetarily? Nah. But what’s the point of an apartment without lights, wifi, gas, water?” he listed. “All of those are necessities too and without them, this would be a pretty terrible apartment.”

They squared off for a moment before she nodded, realizing he budged about as far as he was willing to on the subject.

“Deal.”

“We came to an agreement, yes. But don’t think for a second I like it. Anytime you wanna accept that 50/50 split, let me know.”

Michael gave her a peck on the nose.

“Not gonna happen. Let me treat you to this one thing, baby. But what could happen is us christening some of this furniture?” His eyebrow raised suggestively, his intentions clear in his words.

Charlotte smiled slyly. “I like the sound of that… if we start with the counter.”

***

“Charlotte. Baby. Stop eating your breakfast like it’s a drive by. Sit, relax, and eat. You got plenty of time. Don’t have to be there for another hour.”

Charlotte nearly catapulted out of bed that morning, a wrecking ball of nervous energy flitting around their apartment. Michael did not know how she was moving so quickly and chaotically, since all she did was toss and turn the night before. And as soon as the Sun was up, she was out of bed and out on a run through the neighborhood. And when she returned, their bed quickly turned into a wreckage of clothes, the young woman changing her outfit no less than 10 times.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Michael asked as Charlotte forced herself to sit at the island and eat Michael’s apple cinnamon pancakes, her favorite, and a couple pieces of bacon. Though this was her favorite breakfast meal, she found it difficult to eat, believing her time would be better served practicing or running her lines again rather than just sitting there.

She scratched her head as she stuffed her face quickly, her eyes zooming across her sheet music. “Couple hours. Lots of tossing and turning before I just gave up and reviewed the music again.”

Michael laughed, “You know every song by heart, even the ones that aren’t yours. You’re gonna be great today.”

She shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.” She glanced at her watch and bit her lip before abandoning her half eaten breakfast. “Thanks for this, Bakari, but I think I should go practice the songs one more time. The run in the Act I closer is fuckin’ killing me. I can’t get it just right a-and if Chris has us practice that part today, I don’t want to look stupid.” She paused her ranting to practice the chorus and run right there as she paced by the counter. She sounded flawless in Michael’s opinion but he could tell she hated it the way her whole face scrunched up in frustration. “See? Can’t get it. But you know… maybe I should practice my ballad first though… it would make sense he’d want to start there since it’s earlier in the show. Do I have time to do both…” She was no longer talking to Michael, only rambling and muttering to herself as her questions about which song to use her precious last few minutes to practice started to become inter spliced with actual lyrics from the songs as she studied the music while she walked through their home. “Babe! Have you seen my script?? Maybe I should run through all my lines for Act 1?” She checked her watch. “I s-should’ve used the time last night to do that. UGH.”

Her incoherent stream of consciousness and half singing were interrupted by Michael who put himself in the path of Hurricane Charlotte and their bedroom. Her favorite room to practice in was the bathroom because the acoustics were the best in the house. Imagine his confusion and slight amusement when, the first thing she did when they arrived after throwing her bags down, she started singing her ballad in every single room to test the sound quality before deciding the bathroom was the best option.

It had not been 24 hours yet and he already learned one critical thing about her: she was a perfectionist chaotic nutcase. He had never seen this “behind the scenes” look into her process and work ethic. When they worked on Creed, she showed up to set every day the picture of an actor, in the zone, focused, and ready to work. He had never seen what it took to get to that picture and it was a perfect frenzy that he could not hope to understand or follow if he tried.

And still, he found that her perfectionist nature that drove all the practice and ramblings only made him fall deeper in love with her. He imagined this is what he looked like to his friends and family when he was prepping for a role, so much energy and time spent to become someone else and embody their souls and personas. So much attention to detail and time rehearsing to give each moment in front of the camera your all. This was so much like that, and yet so much harder because Charlotte could not just yell cut to redo something. Every night she got on that stage, she had one opportunity to show her talent at its fullest. He could completely understand why she pushed herself as hard as she did.

“Honeybee… you gotta calm down. No more practicing,” he grabbed the sheet music out of her hand, Charlotte offering mild protests as he walked to her bag and slid them inside, secretly adding a little card of his own. “You still have weeks of rehearsals. Keep doing this and you’ll lose your voice,” he warned, his lips twitching from the laugh he forced himself to stifle at the look of objective horror on her face, as if she had never even considered that was a possibility. But he imagined for her, losing her voice was the worst type of illness she could have. “Exactly. Rest the vocals for a bit. Sit, finish your breakfast and we’ll drive to the theater together.”

With his hands on her hips, he steered her back to the island for the third time that morning and watched her sit down to resume eating, this time far slower and more measured.

“You don’t gotta take me like a child headed to kindergarten for the first day, dad,” she bemused with a soft smile. “I’ll be good.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

She nodded, talk of Michael’s plans for the day filled the rest of breakfast before she grabbed her bag, filled with her script, sheet music, and mid-day snack. Michael had to stop her from triple checking her bag before he slid a perfectly made chai in her hands and ushered her out the door.

He kept his hand on hers as their driver took them the short ride to Abernathy Theater. She had not told Michael but she had performed in this very theater in her very first Broadway production out of college. It felt like a full circle moment to be back there.

“Ok, this is it, babe. You got this,” he kissed her on the lips. “Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight.”

“Thanks, love. See you tonight.” She took a deep breath before gathering her things and exiting the car.

Charlotte glanced back at the black car before she opened the theater door, the window rolled down, to find Michael giving her a thumbs up as if he knew she would need an extra push to walk through the door. She knew her nerves were somewhat foolish. She had spent the better part of her life in theaters and on the stage. And yet, she still felt like a fish outta water. So much time had passed, so much life had happened. Chris thought she still had what it took but would everyone else? She had given up this dream. And though she had never admitted this out loud, she felt so much shame for how easily she had casted it aside and resigned to leaving it to die behind her. As she walked through the theater, her first time in one in over two years, she questioned whether she even deserved this second chance at it after she had squandered the first one, regardless of her reasoning for doing so.

But now as she walked through the theater, taking in the opulence of the insanely tall ceilings and their perfectly preserved murals, the dazzling gold arches and trims, and the sea of ruby-colored seats, she knew one fact to be true. No one and nothing would tear her away from this dream this time. She had breathed new life into it and she would not lose it again.

“Charlotte!”

Her visual survey was interrupted by Chris who waved at her from the stage. She smiled and made quick work of making her way to the stage where he waited.

“It’s so good to see you,” he mused, pulling her into a tight hug. “The rest of the cast is trickling in. But I wanted to show you around personally and introduce you to everyone. I’ll take you backstage.”

He looped his arm around hers and led her backstage, the two laughing and chatting like old friends as he took her around and introduced her to everyone. He was showing her her dressing room when a familiar man’s voice filled her ears.

“The prodigal daughter of Broadway returns… You know I took bets on when you’d be back.”

Charlotte whipped around to find Malcolm Roberts, one of her costars, leaning against the doorway, his usual sly smirk etched on his face.

She sauntered up to him, a similar smirk falling on her face. “And? Is the Tony award winning Malcolm Roberts poorer or richer these days?”

“Richer…” At her surprised expression, he shrugged. “I learned a long time ago to always bet on you.”

She laughed and immediately pulled him into a tight hug, the man lifting her feet slightly off the ground.

“It’s so good to see you. I owe you dinner so you can catch me up on everything,” he said as they hugged. “You look amazing, still as gorgeous as ever.”

Malcolm had been in her last production before she moved. She followed his career after leaving theater and his star had only risen higher and higher, as he deserved. And now, he would be playing directly alongside her and she couldn’t have been more pleased. If there was one person she trusted undoubtedly to act alongside, besides Michael, it would be Malcolm.

“Thank you! Should’ve known Chris would call in the heavyweight champ,” she laughed.

He merely shrugged. “A friend calls and I answer. That's how he got you outta hibernation too?” He asked as they walked to the practice room for rehearsal, their banter drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the team as they worked to build the set and gathered props around them.

“Naturally. One day you’ll have to tell us how you convince everyone to do whatever you want?” Charlotte told Chris who merely smiled slyly.

“Win me another Tony and I’ll tell all my secrets.”

The two actors glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. “As if you need anymore!”

“Does your house even have room for another one and that big head of yours?” Malcolm teased as Charlotte snorted.

“Well, my partner says I can’t convert the kids’ room to a trophy room. So I guess when you two are done sweeping, I’ll have to buy a new house.” He winked at the both of them before grabbing his assistant director to chat, leaving Malcolm and Charlotte alone.

“How was the move?” He asked as he interlaced his arm with Charlotte’s as they walked.

“Oh totally fine. Michael took care of everything, of course. All I did was say yes or no.”

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend, aka my wife and sister’s celebrity crush. Remind me never to invite the two of you over for dinner?” Charlotte let out a deep belly laugh. “But I’m glad to hear it. Looks like you found yourself a good one?”

“Yea… I think I did.”

She raised her eyebrow as he stopped walking to study her for a moment, his face drawn up in a look of pride and something else she could not place. Understanding? Knowing? She could not read it. However, before she could ask him, he merely patted her hand, which rested on his arm and said, “Well no one deserves that more than you.”

Before she could inquire more, they arrived at their rehearsal space, each of them settling into their spots. Chris did quick work of introducing Charlotte to everyone else who she hadn’t met and embarrassing her with his praise. She was thankful when it was all over and everyone started to pull out their scripts and sheet music to run through Act I.

As she pulled out her materials, a small card fell out of the stack and onto the table. She picked it up and examined the card, Honey Bee written out on the front in Michael’s handwriting. She half listened to Chris share notes and information from the last rehearsal as she slid the stationary out of its envelope.

I would say good luck but I know you don’t need it. You’re gonna kill it, as you always do, and remind everyone there today and in this world, who you are. Take a deep breath and remember you, not only deserve this moment but, you were made for it.

Love,

Your biggest fan

If she had not been in a room filled with people, she would have bursted into tears. She slid the note back in her bag after reading it once more and taking the deep breath he instructed her to. She grabbed her phone as the cast started the table read and sent a quick but simple text.

Thank you ♥️♥️

She knew she did not need to elaborate and that he would recognize the meaning. Not a whole minute passed before her phone buzzed with a similar simplistic response.

Anytime.

***

A month later

“Oof, that’s it. That’s the right spot,” Charlotte moaned as Michael massaged her aching limbs. “You got the magic touch, baby.” Her eyes lulled closed as he did the Lord’s work, kneading and massaging the tense spots on her legs and back after another long day of rehearsals. "First show is in two days and I can barely feel my legs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of her spine before continuing his work.

Though Charlotte did not mind the quiet, the silence that settled over them both as he worked, she found it odd. Most evenings, she and Michael never stopped talking, the pair catching the other up on any and everything from the moment she walked into the door until the moment they fell asleep. However, today, Michael’s head seemed to be elsewhere.

“You ok?” She inquired.

“Y-Yea, yea. I’m good.”

She laughed. “I know you well enough to know when you’re good, Bakari. What’s wrong?” She gestured for him to move so she could sit up. She slid her robe over her nude body and slid into his lap.

“I just had an interesting call with Ryan today.”

“Oh? Got another project for you?”

“Actually, yea.”

She motioned for more details, unsure why he was being so coy and secretive. “Ok… you gotta give me more than that, babe. What’s the role? And why are you acting like he threatened to kill you?”

“It’s a Marvel project.”

Her eyes immediately grew wide. She gracefully tumbled out of his lap and onto her knees, excitement filling her previously lethargic body. While she had only just started to get into anime thanks to Michael, both of them bonded over their love for comics. Growing up with her brother, she and Jackson spent far too much time in the comic book store and she made a point to see every Marvel movie that came out.

“It’s Black Panther, isn’t it??” She squealed, her excitement radiating off of her.

“How’d you guess that so fast??”

She scoffed and smiled. “Marvel’s been talking to Black directors for months for that project. A-and Civil War is coming out soon with Chadwick. Ohh,” she shook his shoulders. “You HAVE to do it, baby.”

He laughed, getting up to go into their in-suite bathroom. “You don’t even know what the role is, love.”

She shrugged, following behind him with an extra pep in her step. She did not understand how he wasn’t more excited about this.

“I mean I could sit here and go through all the Black Panther comic lore if you’d like and guess. But that’ll just make you horny,” she teased, knowing Michael got a little too excited when she put on her nerdy hat and talked comics. “And my legs hurt too much for acrobatics with you today. Why aren’t you excited? You said yes, right?? He wouldn’t’ve called unless the role was yours.”

He pushed himself up to sit on the bathroom counter. “I want to say yes, the role is fantastic a-and his vision is spectacular. I s-spent the whole day reading up on the character and everything. It would be a game changer for sure.”

“Of course it would. But I sense a but coming?” Her hands inched up his warm bare chest and wrapped around his neck as she stood between his legs.

“I’d have to go back to LA for a couple days to screen test with Chad and a couple of the other confirmed actors, meet with the execs… and between Kevin Feige’s schedule, Ryan’s and Chadwick’s… only one week before like June works for everyone.”

At the annoyed and guilty look on his face, Charlotte immediately understood. “Opening weekend of the show?” She prayed she was wrong but at the small nod, she let out a disgruntled sigh.

“Yea. A-and I don’t want to miss that, Els. It’s such a big deal and I moved here to be all in on us and support you. I asked Ryan if we could find a different date or if we could do something out here instead but I dunno yet. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want to disappoint you if it’s not a sure thing.”

“Babe. I so appreciate you and that you even thought to consider me and the show before saying yes. But you can’t put your career on hold for me. This is the MCU, babe, I would miss opening night of my own show for Kevin Feige. You have to go.”

Michael’s jaw almost unhinged at her statement. That was not what he was expecting at all. And when he searched her face for a hint of disappointment or sadness, he failed to find any. Her joy for him was natural and authentic, not the forced type people give when they are trying to hide their own emotions.

“What??”

“I’m joking,” she amended but she quickly shook her head. “Actually I’m not. I would totally ditch schmoozing investors and the nausea of waiting for reviews for Marvel,” she laughed. “Seriously though, I’m gonna be doing 8 shows a week for months. You’ll see me on stage so many times, you’ll get sick of my voice and the show. You don’t have to be there opening night to support me. Honestly, I’d rather have you there the first night of previews in a couple days so you can see me on stage for the first time anyway. Opening night is only a big deal in that critics can finally review the show. And there’s a party for the cast and producers and investors and all that shit. You moved across the country to support me. That’s all I need.”

She walked back into their bedroom and grabbed his phone, her slippers shuffling lightly against the floor as she went.. She held it out to him. “Call Ryan.”

“Babe… I just don’t feel right abandoning you on such a big night.”

She tilted her head to study him. She found that she was not just saying those words because she knew she should not stop him from pursuing an opportunity. She actually meant it. Now that she was back in the swing of things, her anxiety had eased quite a bit. It had only been a few weeks but she had not seen or heard a peep out of Shaun, her promo for the show being reduced to one mention in a Broadway.com article, thankfully. And she knew she would have to handle a few days here and there without him before they got there. It was still early so she was still beyond thankful to have him there, but she could survive a couple days without him if he was needed elsewhere.

“You aren’t abandoning me. You’re following your dreams, you’re moving your career forward. Ryan picked you, the role is yours. Meeting with the execs and a couple screen tests are the only hurdles you gotta clear. And you shouldn't put that off. Would I love to look out into that crowd and see you opening night, sure. But would I prefer to see you snag a killer role in what is already a highly anticipated project, 100%. I know you’ll be there in spirit.”

“You sure you aren’t gonna secretly hate me?”

“I could never hate you. Besides, shit like this is gonna happen… we’re both two busy body ass actors. We aren’t always gonna be able to be there physically but I know you’ll be cheering me on as I will for you.”

His phone still hovered in her hand between them, Charlotte giving him an cocky grin before unlocking it and finding Ryan’s number for him.

“You sure?”

“I’m giving you the push you gave me. Call him and tell him he’s got his Killmonger. Hopefully he doesn’t bust your fuckin’ ear drums like Chris did mine.”

His eyes grew wide. “How’d you do that shit?? I never even said his name.”

She chuckled as she turned to walk back into their room, her shoulders shrugged. “It was a lucky guess… that you just confirmed,” she smirked at him. “Now…” she sexily allowed her robe to open and slide off her shoulders, the silk fabric pooling to the floor around her feet. “Don’t stay on the phone with him too long.”

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, his thumb hovering over the call button. “I thought you were too tired?”

She shrugged. “Consider it the last bit of encouragement you need to make that call.” She winked at him before sauntering off to their bed, delighting in the way his eyes followed her perfect ass as she climbed onto their bed.

***

“Well, I think that part could use a bit more emotion from both of us?” Charlotte remarked as she and Malcolm reviewed their notes from earlier in the day.

The stage was filled with chaos as many in the company practiced off to one side while the staging and lighting folks tried to get everything ready for their last rehearsal before previews started the next evening. Rebecca and Jonathan, the supporting actors in the play, were tucked in a corner just like Malcolm and Charlotte reviewing their lines.

“For sure. We shouldn’t hold back. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. All that pent up aggression and anger and hurt… it really should feel like something is simmering beneath the surface and then an explosion on stage before the number.”

Before Charlotte could agree with him and practice a bit more, Chris’s voice grabbed their attention.

“Heads up, everyone! So don’t hate me. But a lot of the investors can’t make previews tomorrow night but they want a peek before opening night so they asked if they could sit in on rehearsal after the producers’ meeting happening upstairs. Should be wrapping up in about 15 minutes. So we will have a small but mighty,” he emphasized, “Audience today. So everyone should give this their all and we’re gonna do it in our costumes. Go get changed. Sorry for the change of plans.”

Light mumbles and grumbles could be heard through the company as everyone filed back into their dressing rooms. Charlotte and Malcolm merely shared a smirk, the actor whispering to Charlotte, “The investors and producers say jump…”

“And we say ‘how high?” she grimaced with an eye roll before shutting the door to her dressing room. This was the only part of her job she hated, schmoozing people whose only credentials for being there was the hefty check they wrote. Charlotte’s outfit was quick work, a simple dress, cardigan, and heels so it did not take long for her to change.

She sang a few chords to herself, warming up her voice, while she waited for the backstage cue to return to the wings of the stage. When the lights flashed, she made her way to the wings, stopping by Malcolm who had his face drawn up in a grimace. She was thankful to find another actor who also hated the politics of it all. She followed his line of sight to the parted curtains, revealing center stage where Chris stood with a group of men in suits. They quickly reminded her of all of the men she met at Shaun's office parties and events, her distaste had not changed. Most of their backs were turned to them until Chris noticed the entire company was assembled and waiting and waved them over.

“Let the jumping begin,” Malcolm moaned lightly as they all started walking toward the group of powerful and wealthy men.

“And these are the stars of our show, Charlotte Bennett, Malcolm Roberts, Rebecca Sloan, and Jonathan Rivers,” Chris gestured toward all of them, the group turning around to greet them.

However, the bright smile that Charlotte put on as she pulled on her dazzling actress persona immediately fell as her eyes locked with one of the men. Her movements halted, her entire body going cold and rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her.

Everything around her went silent as if someone had pressed the mute button, she could not even hear her pounding heart in her ears. But she could feel it, beating against her rib cage as it threatened to burst out of her chest. She forgot where she was, who she was, as he offered her a menacing and knowing smirk.

Instinctively, she took a step back, increasing the distance between them as the rest of the cast continued forward to introduce themselves. Only one person noticed her change in demeanor, her low, shallow breaths that were drowned out by pleasantries and greetings.

Malcolm touched her shoulder, Charlotte almost jumping out of her skin with shock, finally taking her eyes off of a man she never expected to see here of all places, in her safe space.

“You good? Look like you saw a ghost,” he chuckled nervously, though his eyes were filled with concern.

Her mouth felt bone dry, the words caught in her throat but she forced them out anyway.

“No, no. Not a g-ghost. J-just…” she shook her head. “I… um, just need a minute? Tell C-Chris I’m r-running to the b-bathroom. N-not feeling great.”

She turned and rushed out of the theater, her legs carrying her as fast as they could without breaking into an all out run until she found herself near a concession stand in the deserted lobby. She needed as much distance as she could between herself and him. She stopped and leaned against the counter, her hand pressed into her chest as she tried to calm herself. She wondered if she would have rather seen an actual ghost. That would have been less terrifying than what awaited her back in that theater, a different monster haunting her from her past.

Shaun Parker.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: So good news… we got some fluff!! Bad news… some niggas we don't like have found their way back. Thanks for reading! *drops this off and runs away*

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut #mbj fanfic #mbjedit

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hcuyk · 2 months

Note

3.30am, eric or any other tbz members. i’d appreciate it if u could write a piece based on joji glimpse of us :) i luv ur writing btw!

[3:30AM]

Eric had done everything in his power to get over you.

Out of the many relationships he had been in, nothing compared to what he had with you. The hopeless romantic side of himself had always dreamed of having an unconditional love in his life, but until he met you, he would often shrug it off with partying until the sun rose and running off at night to do stupid things on the railroad tracks with his friends.

It was the way he lived and the life he attempted to return to when you broke up with him.

Ever since then, with his weak attempts to hook up with strangers and drink until all his thoughts were rid of you, his close friends would barge into his room each morning at 4, drilling him to wake up and jog around campus shirtless. The exercise was nothing to him, not when he had always actively visited the gym, but each morning he dreaded it.

Because with every passing day at 3 A.M., he would wake up, unable to fall back asleep, and get lost in his thoughts as he eyed the popcorn ceiling above him. His nightlight would tint the ceiling and the walls around him your favorite color, and he would wonder about your whereabouts and if you were doing better without him. Everywhere Eric looked—it was always you.

He couldn’t fathom dreaming of being with another person because, regardless of how attractive or charismatic they were, he would always get caught up staring into their eyes and catching a glimpse of hope, something your eyes once held.

Throughout your last few months of dating, he watched that light dissipate into utter darkness, one that he couldn’t go through and pull you out of—to make you believe that he was the one for you, the one who would watch you grow into your greatest self and he’d love you more with every day that passed.

But instead of being able to enjoy each day with you, he was left to witness how your actions have morphed into ones of a stranger. He watched you give up on their relationship, and nothing hurt him more than knowing he lost someone he loved for so long.

He wished that if you were capable of holding onto that hope, that spark and newfound love and drive to fight for your relationship, then maybe you two would’ve lasted. Maybe he would’ve been able to see you thrive in your dream career field while he pursued his, and you two would be each other’s number one supporters. The ‘what ifs’ plagued him day by day, always wondering that maybe if he had done something different, you two would still be together. He wished that regardless of what lifetime you two shared together, he wanted this one to be with you.

He wanted to do everything with you.

Eric jolted to the sound of his roommate moving in his bed across the room. He didn’t think much of it aside from Juyeon having a bad dream, but that was until his roommate had actually gotten up onto his two feet to change. Eric scrambled to find his phone on the bed and checked his phone for the time, confirming that there still was another thirty minutes until their daily jog. Before he could process what Juyeon was doing, his roommate had spoken up before him.

“You’re awake early.”

Eric squinted at him, puzzled at Juyeon’s sudden need for a conversation this early in the morning.

“I always am.” Eric turned in his bed to lie on his side. He watched as his friend removed his shirt and replaced it with a tank top. “Why are you up?”

“C’mon, dude. I can hear your thoughts from here.”

The two stared at each other in silence, and Juyeon stood with his feet stapled to the ground, refusing to move. His arms were crossed, and he was ready to get Eric out of bed. When Eric didn’t move, Juyeon cocked a brow at him.

“Am I wrong?”

The slight tension they had between them had disappeared when Eric mumbled ‘no’. Juyeon pursued his lips and held back a sigh, replacing it with a slight shake of his head in disapproval. Eric caught this and parted his lips to explain, to explain how much it hurt, but Juyeon interrupted him with a look of understanding because he knew.

Eric would always talk about you endlessly, and to have that ripped away from him was a pain Juyeon has yet to experience. He always believed you and Eric were endgame too.

“I miss them,” Eric whispered, his voice strangled as he desperately looked at his friend for any sort of mental assistance. He was prepared to be called stupid, to say that he shouldn’t be thinking about you after a month of adjusting without you and to move on, but Juyeon did none of that. Instead, he stared elsewhere, his heart empathizing with how much his friend was still in love.

“I know.” Juyeon kept his tone gentle, and with a forced tug of his lips, he wore a warm smile and approached Eric to pat him, comforting him as best as he could.

“I really do miss them.”

Juyeon watched as Eric curled up under the comforter, hugging his legs close to his chest, as he grew smaller in his bed. He took notice of how Eric buried his lower half of his face under, physically shielding how vulnerable he was, but Juyeon knew Eric better than most. He patted him again, gently.

“C’mon, buddy. Let’s jog.”

permanent taglist . . . @the-cereal-simp @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout

author's note // picking up requests from like two years ago because it's about damn time 🧍‍♂️ thank you for sending this in! it's not really true to the song, but i tried to implement it as much as i could!! thank you so much for supporting me :] ^^ also the last time i posted smth for eric he was on a hiatus??? ??? ??? ?? HAS IT BEEN THAT LONG????

#the boyz timestamp #eric sohn #tbz fluff #the boyz angst #sohn youngjae #the boyz scenarios #the boyz reactions #the boyz oneshots #eric x reader #lee sangyeon #jacob bae #kim younghoon #lee hyunjae #lee juyeon #kevin moon #choi chanhee #ji changmin #ju haknyeon #kim sunwoo

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 11 months

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 3: August I

{{ Chapter 2: July I | Chapter 4: September I }} Chapter Directory

reader is petty and tbh, same. also we get more on reader's backstory now! :D

if you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackermann x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, mentions of family deaths, reader being a little shit, descriptions of reader being superficial (ITS PART OF THE BACKSTORY ILL EXPLAIN LATER ITS FINE) ✧ word count ➼ ~4.4k

It was the first day of class. How today goes will essentially decide your trajectory for the semester. Everything had fallen apart so quickly last semester, which meant that you wanted to place the utmost importance upon maintaining a good streak. 'No more bad days' is what you continued to tell yourself, even when the days were undoubtedly bad.

All of the problems from last year are resolved. You still have two more years to get everything done. Things will be back on track.

You stared at yourself intensely in the bathroom mirror as you repeated those thoughts to yourself, hoping that you would believe it if you thought it enough times.

There were still a lot of loose threads in your life: your ex-boyfriend was still floating around, your aunt was still breathing down your neck about your grades, and you still had a stupidly hostile roommate. The only good thing about the last issue was that Levi irritated you more than he made you anxious, which couldn't be said for the other two. You could cope with being irritated. It fed into your stubbornness.

The anxiety from the other two were much harder to deal with—so you didn't. It was a problem for future you. The only thing you wanted to focus on today was getting to class on time and surviving the day. After that, you just had to repeat the events of today every single day until you graduated.

Solid plan, you thought to yourself, although you knew that you were just trying to drown yourself in blind positivity at this point.

You finally came out of the bathroom, looking as chaotic as you felt. Your hair was a mess, your toothbrush was sticking out of your mouth, and you were still in your shorts and oversized t-shirt. You went into your room to grab your phone before locking yourself into the bathroom again.

Your grumpy roommate was already up, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Levi was currently in the kitchenette, making morning tea, hoping that the caffeine will help with the mind fog that was quickly kicking in for him. Mornings generally weren't good for him, usually due to his inability to sleep regularly. While most would feel refreshed in the morning after the typical 8-10 hours of rest, he would find himself tired, grumpy, and unable to focus, which made it so that he couldn't even do work if he wanted to. All he could do at that point was suffer.

Since he was already irritated by default, he found himself scowling to himself as you ran around the apartment in a rush to get to class on time. He was already dreading having to wake up to this every week for 5 days in a row with you making a ruckus. If you were going to be late on your very first day of class, he couldn't imagine the following days being any better. He had no idea how he was going to deal with this all year.

He raised an eyebrow at you as soon as you came out of your bedroom. You seemed like a completely different person. Where there was formerly an oversized t-shirt, there was now a tight-fitting blouse that had open shoulders and would reveal the small of your back if you stretched your arms up. You wore jeans that tightly hugged your curves and looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Levi wasn't one to judge how you dressed or presented yourself, but the sudden change in dress took him aback. He had spent the past two months seeing you every single day. You had made yourself comfortable in his home—he was still reluctant to verbalize the fact that you lived with him now—and he had seen you in those shorts and t-shirts every day, even when you left the house. The only time in which he saw you in dress that was consistent to what he was seeing now was the very first day you met, after getting off the bus that came from your ex-boyfriend's apartment.

He eyed you as you walked past him, trying not to make it obvious that he was looking at you. Levi could vaguely tell that you were carrying yourself differently—you were more formal, more elegant, and more...fake.

He could tell that every movement you were making was forced, as if you were fighting against your instincts. He couldn't tell exactly what it was that gave him this impression, but something seemed different. He'd directly ask what was going on if you didn't irritate him so much at baseline. He didn't want unnecessary conversation with you. He just wanted you to leave.

He told himself this, but Levi did still find himself curious as to what was going on behind your psyche. Has the person he had been living with the past two months actually been someone else and was masking? Or was it the other way around? Or was he completely misinterpreting something as simple as a change in fashion style?

Levi scolded himself for even being this nosey as he watched you pack your bags. It wasn't any of his business. He was just forced to see you every day, so of course he'd be curious about such a drastic change.

You swung your backpack over your shoulder and brushed yourself off, grabbing your phone to place into your back pocket. You barely acknowledged Levi's presence as you walked past him, but you were vaguely able to feel his eyes following you.

You glanced back at him.

"Later, grumpy," you said shortly before leaving and closing the door behind you, grinning to yourself as you visualized the scowl that undoubtedly appeared on Levi's face afterwards.

Levi stared at the front door that was now shut. Any lingering curiosity that he had 30 seconds ago was immediately replaced with irritation.

"Tch," he muttered to himself as he gently picked up his mug of tea. "Good riddance, brat."

~~~~~

You were wholly unprepared.

Throughout your first two years of undergrad, you had your ex drop you off at the main quad every day, so navigating campus or even knowing the bus routes was never an issue for you. You realized once you got to the bus stop that you had zero clue as to when the next bus would arrive or if you would even get onto the right one.

You had both a maps app and the local bus app pulled up on your phone, constantly refreshing every 10-15 seconds to make sure that you're getting on the right bus.

You eventually got onto the correct bus line, but that's where your luck ended. You had been standing on the opposite side of the street to where you were supposed to be, so you ended up getting onto a bus that went west instead of east. In your defense, the bus itself was facing east, but you had missed both the flashing sign in front of the bus that said it was the west line and the fact that this particular bus route you chose to take was one of the ones that drove in a circle around the block, which explained why it was facing a different direction once it arrived at your stop.

You noticed that the bus was driving you further away about two stops into the ride and you immediately panicked and pulled on the wire that indicated the bus driver to stop.

You found yourself frantically pulling up the maps and bus apps again once you got off, cursing at yourself for getting lost on the first day of the semester.

You eventually gave up on trying to figure out the bus system and just ended up walking halfway across campus, trying to ignore the irritating fact that it probably would have been faster just to walk anyway.

Although it was only by ten minutes, you were still late to class. You were able to arrive before any real discussions began, but it was still late enough that everyone would have noticed. It was a fairly small class that was seated at tables instead of a traditional lecture hall.

Luckily, it was only syllabus week, so you didn't have to worry about any assignment announcements—and you had printed out the syllabus ahead of time—but you were really embarrassed already when you walked in and saw everyone's eyes fall on you. On top of being late, you were fairly certain that you physically looked a mess from being forced to run around on campus for the past 20 minutes.

The class itself was an elective, so you weren't overly stressed about the coursework, but Paradis University was a small university at baseline and your major was even smaller. Everyone knew each other, which made this situation worse for you. On top of the blunder that made up today, everyone also knew of your struggles from the previous semester. They might not have known all the details, but nearly everyone knew that something had happened.

You made eye contact with the professor, who was side-eyeing you from walking in and disrupting his monologue. As you walked further into the room, you made eye contact with the graduate student that was TA-ing the class and gave her an awkward smile.

Pieck nodded at you to acknowledge you before making a head motion to a table in the back, indicating that you should skip formalities and take a seat before making the professor more grumpy. Professor Magath wasn't a harsh professor by any means, but getting on an instructor's bad side from the very beginning of the semester was something that even you knew was a bad idea.

You slumped into the open seat at the table that both Petra and Oluo—another one of the few classmates that you could call a friend—sat at. You dropped your bag on the floor and had to resist the urge to bury your face in your hands.

Petra gave you an empathetic look and passed you a cup of Matcha from the nearby Starbucks that she picked up for you since she knew that you would be stressed.

You shot her a small smile as you grabbed onto the cup. Your friendship with Petra was on and off, but you at least appreciated her attention to detail whenever you were going through it.

"It'll get easier with the more days that pass by," she whispered.

The smile fell off your face as you averted your gaze, frowning at an empty spot on the table.

Petra meant well. You knew that—but you were not in the headspace to discuss anything regarding "it" right now. You were in public and just had a rough morning.

"I don't want to talk about it, Petra," you said sternly.

At this point, it's been a little over two years since your parents passed overseas, but you were still struggling to adjust. They were there, and then they suddenly weren't. You remembered it all hitting you like a truck—with the first time being when you first got the bad news and the second time after your somewhat rocky relationship with your ex-boyfriend exploded and all of your emotional walls came crashing down. You thought you were over it, but you clearly weren't. It was more likely that you had used your relationship as a distraction from having to cope with your grief, and that once the relationship ended, you didn't have anything else to hold back all of the turmoil that had been building up inside you.

No one blamed your mental health for going down the drain towards the end of last semester, but it still resulted in unfinished classes and strained friendships.

You sighed quietly as you tried to calm your nerves, sipping on your drink.

You found yourself grimacing a little upon tasting the liquid that came into contact with your lips. You were perfectly content with the quality of the matcha tea latte's at Starbucks—until you had a certain barista brew it for you that apparently changed your standards out of the blue.

"You finally getting to murdering your roommate?" Oluo asked.

"I wish," you said with a scoff. "Can't afford the rent."

As you began chuckling to yourself for your snarky comment, you heard someone clear their throat from up front.

Magath was giving you a disapproving look as he briefly paused in his speech. You were being too talkative and too noisy.

You sipped on your drink again, turning away from your friends and towards the front in an attempt to avoid getting distracted again. However, given the fact that Magath was discussing the syllabus—which you had read the week prior—you still found yourself zoning out purely due to the lack of interesting information being spouted at you.

The only thing running through your mind was how annoyed you were at the fact that your first day of class was already kind of a shitshow. Still, you repeated those phrases in your head that you had muttered in the morning:

All of the problems from last year are resolved. Still have two more years to get everything done. Things will be back on track. Solid plan.

You were determined to make things go well.

By the time you zoned back into reality, class was over and everyone was packing to leave. Petra briefly patted you on the shoulder before heading out the door and Oluo briefly muttered something about being late to your meeting with him later during the day before rushing out.

You immediately began packing your own bag to leave, but you were lagging behind, and resulted in being the last one to leave.

You did another awkward smile at Magath and hoped that he didn't get too bad of a first impression from you.

As you passed Pieck, she made eye contact with you and then spoke, which prompted you to slow down.

"I'm glad things are picking up for you again, _____," she said softly. "But Magath isn't the type to go easy on you—even if your reasoning is valid—and there are only so many strings I can pull."

You clenched your jaw at her comment. She was right. It was only because of Pieck and the rapport she had built with the department professors that you had even passed your classes last semester. You hadn't shown up for more than a month and barely got assignments in. You knew it was only by chance that she noticed and reached out to you and it was by some weird stroke of luck that she was able to pull the strings that she did to convince Shadis to give you an incomplete last semester that you'd be able to make up in the summer.

Although you had Magath this semester instead of Shadis, your situation was undoubtedly known to some extent by everyone in the department, given how small it was.

The more you thought about your situation, the more you felt your face heating up, and the more desperate you became to mask and hide any feelings of frustration that were rapidly approaching. You felt like your heart was jumping out of your throat and that your vision was becoming unfocused. Your hands began to feel clammy and you felt your brain begin to jump into the self-shaming thought spirals.

You really were grateful to Pieck for all the help she had provided you last semester, but you were unsure how much you'd be able to vocalize it right now without breaking down on the spot. As a result, you nodded at her, muttered a quiet thank you, and promptly left the room.

You vaguely heard her speak to you as you left.

"Just remember to reach out when you need it."

~~~~~

While it was a significant day for you with classes finally picking up again, it was a fairly normal and ordinary day for Levi. He made his morning tea, read some papers, went to lab for a few hours, and then came into his shift at the cafe in the afternoon.

His shift was a bit busier during the late afternoon due to the undergrads beginning school and all deciding to come hang out in the cafe after classes were over, so he was more than ready for Onyankopon to come in and take over his spot at the register.

He was currently in the awkward layover period in which Nicolo, who was working the morning shift, had already left, but before Onyankopon, who was working the closing shift, had yet to come in. The layover period was only for thirty minutes, but it was still thirty minutes too long.

On top of having to deal with the annoying undergrads and his problematic roommate, his relationship with Hange and Erwin in lab had slightly soured. It was for no other reason that him not being in the mood to chat with either of them because of the conversation from last month. There was no bad blood or resentment, but Hange's comment regarding his disdain for the undergrads left him tilted and chatting with Erwin only ever involved his graduation progress, which was the last thing he wanted to think about at the moment.

He felt himself getting more and more frustrated and rarely found a moment in which he wasn't on edge because at this point, he literally feels like he doesn't have a safe space. Even when he's at home, he has to deal with you, even if he locks himself in his room most of the time. He couldn't catch a break no matter where he went.

Levi was able to recognize that he was being hostile towards you and that it wasn't entirely fair, but you were also being a brat towards him. He acknowledged that he probably should have tried to compromise when you approached him two weeks ago, but your behavior since then has destroyed any lingering motivation to make your shared situation any better.

You've been nothing but petty ever since that one day in which he brushed off your attempts to get along with him. You began doing explicit "my space versus your space" behaviors, such as neatly cleaning only half the sink or kitchen or even putting a clear divide between what was yours versus what was his. One of his biggest pet peeves that you've picked up as a habit was that when you did the dishes, you only did your own dishes and left his in a neat pile, unwashed—which killed the purpose of them being stacked neatly as the dishes themselves were still filthy.

It irked him to no end, but he also told himself that it was ultimately a good thing to keep everything separated. It would increase the chances of you moving out after the school year was over, but that was still around 10-12 months into the future, which gave him a headache to think about.

At this point, he began to wonder if maybe he cooked something that was scented a bit too strongly that made Miche mad and that was why he had to deal with you as a result of some bad karma.

He found himself sighing in relief when Onyankopon finally walked in through the door. However, that sigh immediately turned into a groan of discontent when he saw you follow promptly behind him. Your figure was significantly smaller than his coworker, so he didn't see you until you were already in the door.

You were completely distracted by your phone, furiously typing as you walked towards his counter. It didn't look like you did it on purpose, but he couldn't help but wonder if you were purposefully trying to irritate him when you took a seat in front of him at the counter—the same seat you had been sitting at ever since your first day stepping into the café back in June.

Finally, you looked up and flinched upon seeing Levi, which caused him to raise an eyebrow at you in irritation.

"Shit, I forgot you work today," you grumbled.

Levi grunted, rolled his eyes, and then walked away from you to clean his tea station.

You squinted at him as he walked away, glaring daggers into his back.

"Wonderful customer service skills as always," you grumbled as you scowled at him.

"Welcome!" a pleasant voice greeted you as you looked up and saw Onyankopon smiling at you as he walked up to the register. "I assume you and Levi know each other?"

"Unfortunately," you mumbled.

You had a shit day at school. Your following classes weren't much better compared to your first one of the day. While seeing Levi here didn't improve your mood in the slightest, you did find yourself coming into the cafe nearly every day. It was a convenient spot and had a good environment to study in—minus Levi, of course.

You eyes darted down to your phone as your screen lit up. Oluo had mentioned that he was going to be late for your planned meeting with him to set up the club you had mentioned to Petra, but he didn't mention just how late he was going to be. You were impatiently waiting for him to respond to your text about it.

"Well, what can I help you with?" Onyankopon asked.

"Matcha tea latte with coconut milk and a shot of espresso would be nice," you said with a smile. You knew that it was an unconventional combination, but you liked the taste.

"Coming right up."

"You're much more pleasant compared to Levi," you mused. "Do they pay you more?"

"They do not," Onyankopon said in an overly professional manner as he chuckled.

"Well, they should," you muttered loudly enough for Levi to hear in the back. You shot a smug grin towards him as your roommate glared at you from his station.

If it was your goal to piss him off every time he saw you, you were succeeding.

Onyankopon took your card and walked off to enter your drink into the order intake system.

You pulled out your laptop, opting to get some of the initial set-up done if Oluo was going to force you to wait for him. If your club wanted to operate this semester, you had to get the official paperwork in within the next two weeks.

As you pulled up the university's student life website, you glanced up towards Onyankopon and saw that Levi handed him your drink before Onyankopon was even able to hand him the sticker indicating what you had ordered.

As much as Levi chastised you for ordering a Matcha on your very first interaction, it seemed you had become predictable enough for him to immediately know what you were going to order every time. You wondered if you should switch it up occasionally to throw him off. The thought of it brought another smile to your face.

You sipped on it and you shut your eyes as another small smile appeared on your face. This blend was your comfort drink and was much better than the Matcha that Petra had brought you in the morning.

You didn't notice, but Levi was subtly eyeing you from the back as he restocked his station. You pissed him off to no end, but he'd be lying if he didn't at least take some satisfaction in the fact that you enjoyed his version of your comfort drink.

The door to the cafe opened again and two other undergrads walked in and sat next to you.

Oluo walked in and sat down first, with another upperclassman one year above you that immediately followed after. Gunther had said he wasn't overly interested in being an officer, but you needed a senior representative and he was the most available, so you were able to rope him into it.

Levi was immediately reminded of that subtle discomfort you seemed to be giving off this morning when you had first come out of your room. That same tension appeared in your body posture again as you sat up more "properly" as soon as you started interacting with the two of them. It was overly professional and once again, appeared "fake". He just couldn't understand you.

He vaguely overheard the three of you discussing the trajectory that your club was supposed to be taking. Levi scoffed to himself at the fact that a simple extracurricular was what you found yourself stressed about. You were incredibly privileged if that was the only thing you had to worry about.

Levi did notice that although you started the conversation, it seemed more like Oluo and Gunther were leading it. Any idea that you proposed that didn't get immediate agreement from the other two was discarded. You immediately backed down on everything. You wanted an academic component since the club was supposed to be an honors society. They said no, you conceded. You wanted a stricter budget to be able to afford a bigger social outing at the end of the year. They said no, you conceded.

Everything that you said made sense, and even Levi agreed in that he would prefer the activities you mentioned over whatever garbage Oluo was proposing, such as a social for stupid things like Valentine's day or Thirsty Thursday.

It irritated Levi even more that you didn't fight for your ideas in the slightest. You were letting both of them walk all over your club. He subtly squinted at you, watching your movements with them.

It wasn't a people pleaser thing, he could tell that much. It was more like you didn't really know how to navigate asserting your own opinions or desires, which was ironic. The person in front of him was not the person he had been coming home to every night.

Levi wasn't the type to be outwardly social, but he knew how to read people. That's how he was able to tell that this wasn't something as simple as being a people pleaser.

It was a lack of self-respect. He was able to see that even without full context over what was happening. The fact that you were different in front of him irked him even more.

He could not possibly think of a worse person to be forced to be around.

He had hoped that he would have had a better day after leaving lab and coming in to have a mindless shift at the café, but the only thing he was feeling was his mood rapidly declining the minute you stepped into the door.

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004

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mishkakagehishka · 2 years

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”Conclusion: the other aspects of the pet name kind of go over his head, but he loves it all the same. Take his advice, call him “baby boy” in public. Make Lilia’s day.” 😭 Please I need this scenario in my life now

Ask and you shall receive <3 very late, but you shall receive

Post that the ask is quoting

Word count: 1651 Summary: Lilia and the rest of Diasomnia gang get first row tickets to seeing the heir of Briar Valley get babied. Warnings: none that come to mind. Hints of angst in the first few paragraphs tho Note: they/them pronouns used, established relationship. Also, it was a joy writing dialogue for Lilia, but just you wait until I learn Shakespearean English, then I'll truly have fun with him.

Seasons change, years pass, graduation comes and goes, and through all that, Crowley, in the end, never did find a way back home for the new Prefect of Ramshackle. The former Prefect of Ramshackle. Though they left a legacy, in reforming Ramshackle as well as in helping with a record amount of Overblots in such a short timeframe, the fact that it was impossible for them to ever return to their life before Twisted Wonderland weighed down their heart like a heavy rock. Every reminder of their old life, their old home and their old world served as a source of hurt and regret. Even having to think of it as their “old” life, and this as their “new” life broke their heart in ways that nobody in this world seemed to understand.

But, despite that, they managed to build a life for themselves in this world, in Twisted Wonderland. It wasn’t easy and, though fifteen years had passed since, they still sometimes found themselves waking up, expecting the last decade and a half to have been just a vivid dream, and that they’d open their eyes to their old room, living their old life. That they would awaken thinking it was all just a vivid dream. And, sure, they would feel sad to know all the connections they’ve made were just a figment of their imagination, but… Their heart ached for their home. On mornings like that, it was Malleus who was able to bring them some sense of comfort, of ease. His presence and kind words, as well as featherlight touch of support was enough to ground them, to remind them that everything was fine. That he was by their side, that he will always be by their side. That he was their home now.

And what even to say of Malleus and the former Prefect of Ramshackle? Nobody but he himself could say when exactly it happened, but the changes in his behaviour truly started becoming clear around the time of the VDC - even the students that usually took great care to avoid him started noticing it. Whispers and rumours flew around the campus of the Malleus Draconia falling in love, with a magicless human, no less. As if the heir of Briar Valley, a fae with such a dreadful aura and powers – both as a mage and as a figure of authority – that have made him stand above nearly everyone in Night Raven College. A fae as him wouldn’t fall for any of his fellow students, least of all one who doesn’t even have any powers to compare to his. But, well, those who didn’t believe the rumours were probably the ones who got the biggest shock when the two announced their engagement years later.

And though they now lived together in the Briar Valley, awaiting the date of their wedding, not much else has changed. Silver and Sebek were still knights employed by the palace, serving Malleus directly (although the years of service under their belts have promoted them on the order’s hierarchy), Lilia stuck around as his retainer and, given the Queen was still alive and kicking, Malleus could still enjoy a certain amount of freedom, remaining the heir of the heir. Freedom from responsibility, freedom to move as he pleased, and his betrothed still had time to get used to life in the Briar Valley - and to life as a future monarch well before they’d have to begin the life of a real monarch. It was a grace period of sorts, for which they were both thankful.

With all that freedom, the group of Night Raven alumni had more than enough time to spend time together, doing nothing but chatting and just hanging out, as they often did back in college. Their favoured way of catching up turned out to be weekly picnics - not taken far from the palace, in fact, oftentimes they just laid out a blanket in the gardens. But the true charm of those picnics was, of course, the informality, the lack of expectations for any of them. Silver and Sebek could sit at the same “table” as Lilia, as Malleus and his betrothed. None had to mind their manners or take care to choose their words carefully. They were equals, just a group of adults out for brunch, to catch up. In fact, even the food itself was always to be made by themselves, simple finger foods and sandwiches (though, rest assured, Lilia was still banned from the kitchen; his job was to find a spot and set up the blanket, the plates and whatever decorations he deemed appropriate) to truly make it feel as a moment for themselves, with no connections to their social statuses, to the palace life.

And so, they met up again on a sunny day, with a blue sky clear of clouds hovering above them. “Master Lilia chose a wonderful set-up today as well,” Sebek was quick to praise, taking not a second longer than was needed for the aforementioned retainer to set their replacement for a dining table. And with that said, he set down the beverages he was in charge of preparing and bringing that day, three pitchers that were no problem for a knight as himself, as he’d put it, to carry in one trip. “You say the same thing every time. Aren’t you tired of it?” Silver commented, setting out the small, bite-sized cakes flavoured of various fruits he’s brought on one of Lilia’s decorative platters. “Of course not! For it is true every time I say it, of course I would not tire of saying it!” Their back-and-forth once more devolved into a tense quarrel, another thing that hasn’t changed since their days of college. “Now, now, calm down, young ones,” Lilia tried his best to stop the argument from escalating. Floating between them, he placed a hand on each knight’s shoulder, gently, yet firmly, squeezing them in a fatherly manner – as a subtle warning. “We’ve come here to enjoy the good food and good ambience together, have we not? Hark, enough squabbling! Malleus and you, dearie, bring forth your offerings and let’s chow down!”

Malleus brought out the heaps of sandwiches, separating them into groups (depending on their ingredients) and placing them on different platters. Each sandwich was wrapped individually, so he made a note to point out which group had which sort. While he was being fed praises by Sebek, and while Silver was then starting another argument with his fellow knight, Malleus’ betrothed set down the foods they were tasked with preparing - which were the salads this time. One of greens, and one of fruit. “These look a lot better than last time, Malleus,” Lilia commented upon unwrapping a sandwich. Malleus hummed, and looked at them who were still preoccupied with setting up their bowls. “In truth, I received assistance this time.” “Can’t even make a sandwich on your own, huh? A true crown prince you are, little one,” his retainer chuckled, honey-sweet parental affection apparent in his smile. “Right?” and his betrothed chimed in. “I had to show him how to make them step-by-step. Multiple times, even!” “Is that so?” “It sure is. I’d even say I deserve to be thanked and lauded. Wouldn’t you agree, Malleus?” And with Sebek too busy arguing with Silver, he had nobody who would defend his honour. So, he accepted, with a laugh, “You’re right. You have my deepest gratitude, my treasure.” Lilia burst into laughter, earnestly enjoying the exchange. “My, my! Dearie, looks like you have him wrapped around-”

“You’re welcome, baby boy. Now, c’mere, let me give you some head pats.”

As Malleus leaned forward, careful to angle his horns away from his betrothed’s face, to accept his promised head pats, Lilia went silent. Not because he no longer found the situation funny, quite the opposite, it was rather that he didn’t know if he should laugh at this new turn of events. He quickly turned around, mumbling something about giving the couple privacy, trying to hide his increasingly reddening face. His shoulders shook and he felt like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets from the force of his held-in giggles, but, still, he did his best to stifle his laughter with a hand firmly covering his mouth. And it was this that finally got the two knights to stop bickering, with Silver being in a similar state as his father - albeit less theatrical and better trained in his way of hiding his snickering. Sebek, being Sebek, immediately stepped up to defend his lord. “Have you forgotten your place, human?! To think you would dare call our prince such an… infantilising term!” “Oh,” Lilia inhaled, his hand resting on his chest as he attempted to calm down from the fit of laughter, “calm yourself, Sebek, I’m sure they didn’t- I apologise.” He started laughing once more, this time not able to hide it. “Kufufu, Sebek, child, you need to chill...” “It’s just a term of endearment, Sebek,” they defended themselves, as well, “you know I would never insult Malleus!” “Besides, it’s a term I like,” Malleus added calmly, but with a hint of sternness to it. “So, there’s no reason for you to get so upset on my behalf, is there? I may be your prince, but take care you don’t forget that they are your prince’s betrothed.” Sebek grumbled a bit, but ultimately had nothing else to say. “Can we start eating? I’m starving,” Silver interrupted, having laughed his heart out in the shadows of their conversation. “Right, right!” Lilia was too eager to change the subject by now, still feeling breathless. “Let’s eat, let’s eat… whew… baby boy,” he let his voice decrease into a whisper with the last words, and a last chuckle. He’s certain those kids are going to be the death of him some day.

#the inbox is empty now. btw. just throwing that out there.#twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #fanfiction #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #reader insert #my writing #twst fluff

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zinfindoll · 1 year

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Snowball | epel felmier

Snowball | Rated: G | reader pronouns: none CW: none

Part of the 25 Days of TWSTmas collab on Quotev!

"HENCHMAN, WAKE UP! IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"

Waking up to Grim shaking you awake on a Saturday morning was not how you wanted to start your day. Cold and groggy, you brought the blanket closer to you, not fully conscious yet as you mumbled for him to go back to bed. Unsurprisingly, Grim persisted, jumping on your stomach and causing all the air to leave your body momentarily.

"Ow — hey! What was that for?!"

Brushing him off and sitting up, you could only glare at the furry little demon, waiting for an explanation as to why he was so adamant on getting you up at — you glanced at the clock on your phone — seven in the morning. Couldn't you be allowed to sleep in on your day off?!

Grim, unperturbed by the look you gave him, waved a paw over to the window. "I told you, it's an E—MER—GEN—CY!" He emphasized every syllable in annoyance, and dread pooled in your stomach. Clutching the thin blanket around your shoulders, you stood up and padded over to the window, flinching as bare feet met cold wood.

A part of you just didn't want to look outside. Whatever 'emergency' this was, perhaps blissful ignorance was better. However, peering out the window gave you no answer to the question you had for Grim.

Frost crept on the window edges, and for a moment you could only look out in awe at the beautiful sight before you. The ground was blanketed in crystalline white powder, only continuing to pile on as snow drifted softly to the ground. It must have started sometime while you were sleeping — there had to be a couple inches by now.

It was your first snow since coming to this world and school, and the sight was mesmerizing.

Grim broke you out of your reverie. "It's terrible! I'm going to go melt it all right now—HUH?!"

Arm snapping out, you gripped the back of Grim's neck like you would any other cat. Despite the sweet smile, you were anything but pleased as you realized the real reason why Grim roused you out of the comfort of your warm bed.

"You will do no such thing." Grim trying to melt the snow was a recipe for disaster, not to mention it'd ruin the beautiful picture. "Did you seriously wake me up for this?"

"PUT ME DOWN!"

Well, now that you were up, you might as well get ready for the day. Dropping the feral little gremlin, and ignoring his cry of annoyance with your treatment to him, you made sure to dress as warm as you could.

By the time you were done, it was just after eight, and snow was still sprinkling down. A week ago, you had borrowed some products from Vil (at his utmost insistence that you improve on your self-care). Unfortunately, one of the things he gave you had made your skin itchy, and so you wanted to return it to him. You were aware he was probably already out for the day doing a photoshoot or advertisement, as such was the life of a celebrity, but nonetheless you could at least leave it with Rook or Epel or somebody else at his dorm.

While you were aware the weather might not be the same at the Pomefiore Dorm than on the rest of campus or Ramshackle, you were pleasantly surprised to see it had still snowed a bit. Snow dusted the ground and the roofing of the castle-like dorm, although not in the quantity that Ramshackle had. It wasn't near as windy, only a bit of nip from the cold. Pomefiore was always a beautiful dorm to admire, but the snow gave it a whole other quality, and you couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the view.

That was, until something cold and wet was lobbed at you, hitting you in the back of the head and knocking your hat off. Immediately, your shoulders scrunched up towards your neck at the sensation, but snow was already seeping down the back of your jacket and shirt.

Whirling around, you fully expected to see Grim, or even Ace (although why would Ace be at Pomefiore first thing in the morning?), but instead you were met with a different face, grinning cheekily at you.

Epel was bundled up, with a hat and matching gloves, and your eyes zeroed in on the ball of snow that he had in his hands, ready to be weaponized against you or any other unsuspecting student.

"If Vil catches you throwing snow, he's really going to get on your case," you teased, not quite making a move to retaliate. Yet.

Epel stuck his tongue out, and when he spoke, you could tell he wasn't caring too much about hiding his accent.

"Vil's not around. Off doin' some kinda photoshoot for the day."

"And so you're using your temporary freedom to harass innocent bypassers? Why, Epel, I never knew you to be so cruel!" With dramatics that could almost rival Rook, you placed a hand to your chest and pretended to feel faint. Epel saw this as his chance to try and throw another snowball at you, but you ducked just in time, hastily scooping up snow to throw back at him. You also missed, your aim not quite the best, but at least he got the message as he continued to grin mischievously.

"When else am I gon' be able ta?"

"Well, you're going to regret challenging me. Not to brag, but I was the king of snowball fights growing up."

The threat of a challenge was enough to spur both of you on to a full-fledged war, the serum you had for Vil all but forgotten as you and Epel threw snowballs at each other. Ducking and dodging, time seemed to slip right by you both — students learned quickly of the war going outside Pomefiore, and many of the dorm members avoided the area like the plague, not wanting to get involved.

Many of the dorm members — not all.

Neither you nor Epel had seen it coming until it was much too late, both of you getting nailed in the heads with snow. Knowing it wasn't either of you, you both stopped, glancing around. It didn't seem like there was anybody that could be a culprit, until a voice called out, cheery and dramatic and definitely belonging to the guilty party (not that he sounded guilty whatsoever).

"Monsieur Cherry Apple, Trickster! Whatever are you two doing?"

Rook's hands looked clean, but you knew better. Before you could call him out, though, Epel immediately straightened his posture, hands going behind his back as if he could hide what he was doing.

"Why does it matter?" Epel asked defensively, and you wearily looked at both of them. If Rook, for some reason, decided to join the fight, you were going to dip. He would absolutely annihilate you, that you were sure of.

"Why, mes amies, it just looked like you two were having a wonderful time! I'm sure—"

Rook was cut off as Epel lobbed a snowball right at him; if he was surprised, Rook didn't show it, swiftly dodging. The only problem was, neither you nor Epel had noticed the figure standing behind Rook with arms crossed until it was too late, the snowball hitting the chest of the only person that willingly would stand so close to Rook.

Vil Schoenheit.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, the scene seeming to progress in slow motion as the snow splattered over his outfit, a bit of it going upwards and hitting his face. Already, he had looked displeased with yours and Epel's antics; now, he looked downright furious, his face flushing so violently that you could see a bit of red peeking through his foundation.

Epel's face was paler than the snow outside, and a glance at his expression told you all you needed to know.

You both were totally screwed.

Giving an awkward little wave and smile, you tried to diffuse the situation. "Um... Hi, Vil! I came to return the serum you lent me...."

"Both of you inside. Now."

He wasn't your dorm leader, Pomefiore wasn't your dorm, but you still followed Epel inside the dorm like kicked puppies, realizing that you were about to be on the receiving end of a lengthy lecture at hitting the Vil Schoenheit with a snowball.

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

#twstfics #twst #epel felmier #twst epel #!zinfics #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fic #epel felmier x reader #fly high epel for hitting vil with a snowball

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arlecchno · 2 years

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mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

four | step 1 - be friends

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classes start, and you're back in uni again. befriending viktor seems like a great opportunity for you to investigate more on him, and scaramouche shuts you out once more.

warnings: swearing, mention of guns and drinking, scara kinda cares for you lol

a/n: once again, sorry for the delay! i'll try to update as much as i can once i'm done with my midterms but please bear with me for now 😔 also i might start to write longer chapters so that you guys can enjoy it more. currently the average count of words in this series are around 2.2k to 2.5k. i still feel like they're a bit short so hopefully i can write longer ones in the future. happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i've made any mistakes!

if 21 year old you told you that you'd be back in campus learning again, you wouldn't have believed yourself. but here you are, sitting in the class hall for your mass comm class that's about to start.

seems like you're the first one here.

you took criminology for your degree and immediately went to the police academy upon graduation, so mass comm is a pretty new area for you to learn.

hopefully it's not as dreadful as your former field of study, thinking about all of the stressful work you've done for your criminology class back then already makes your head sick.

if you went through 4 years alive in criminology, you definitely could survive in mass comm for a couple of months.

what pisses you off is that you're gonna have to take criminology again for some reason. that witch, you thought, thinking about the captain from your precint.

captain tsaritsa was the one who made you apply for an extra field of study and she insisted on you taking criminology. has that woman not learnt from her uni days? criminology was hell. you continued thinking, placing your palm under your chin and staring off to the void.

coincidentally scaramouche also applied for criminology. you're not sure whether the tsaritsa made him do that or he'd actually rather take criminology again, but you couldn't care less about him.

you didn't go to the same uni as him so you wouldn't know what kind of student he was. for all you know he was a top student and had a huge interest in criminology, and now he's willing to go through another few months in hell again.

that's what you assumed anyways.

"luna!" a voice called. you darted your eyes towards the person who called you by your fake name. it was viktor.

right, he said we should sit together in class the last time i met him, bringing your hand back to the table.

"oh, hey." you said. "looks like we do have the same schedule."

yes because as if captain tsaritsa wouldn't assign you on different schedules, when you're supposed to be going undercover and get more evidence from the one and only viktor stepanov. the one that's standing right beside your seat right now.

"yup! you're here pretty early. that eager to start your first ever class in campus, huh?" he mused, taking a seat beside you and taking out his laptop to prepare for the lecture in a couple of minutes.

you already had all of your stuff taken out from your bag on to the table, with a cup of coffee you made from your dorm before heading out. and the other students seemed to only arrive now unlike you, who arrived 10 minutes ago.

huh, you really do look like you're looking forward to this.

"well... it's safe to say that i'm an early riser. i usually wake up this early to get to work—" you said before stopping abruptly, almost slipping out the fact that you're working full-time. at a job that lets you legally hold and shoot a gun at that.

"w-work out! i'm usually up this early to do my work out routine." you quickly covered up, hoping that he didn't catch on.

you can barely get up from bed every day to go to work and suddenly you're working out, very ironic.

"that's interesting! you didn't seem like the type of person to be working out. but since we're friends, i guess it's nice to know a thing or two about you." viktor said.

great, now people can see through me that i don't work out regularly, you frowned.

it's not like you don't actually work out. your police job requires you to have the agility and physical endurance to chase and fight bad guys, so working out is pretty much obligatory. you're just... a bit on the lazy side is all.

viktor noticed the frown on your face and immediately tried to cover up his words upon realising that it sounded backhanded. "i-i mean, it's not like you look like a lazy person. ah, how do i say this..." he scratched his head. "you already look healthy so um, it's good that you're taking care of your health more!" viktor defended.

it's not exactly like the kind of compliment people would give, but viktor didn't seem to notice it. whatever, you thought, as long as he doesn't catch on your made up stories.

"maybe you can teach me how to work out sometime, i really need to get these muscles working..." he continued after a moment.

"sure, i'll let you know when i have the time for it." you replied nonchalantly, staring blankly at your laptop screen.

viktor smiled, turning to his laptop. "i'll hold on to that." after a few seconds, he turned back to you again.

"ah, i almost forgot."

"hm?"

viktor opened up his bag and rummaged through it before taking out a piece of flyer and handing it over to you.

"it's a party i'm hosting this weekend, it's at a frat house i don't use. i usually only use it on occasions like these or for some other personal business." he informed.

"everyone on campus is welcomed, so it'd be rude for me to not invite you. you're my utmost welcomed guest after all, just treat it like a welcoming party. and feel free to bring along your friends too! the party is just a little booze to get out from your cramped classes and loosen up a little before midterms." viktor said, almost as if he's pleading you to come to the party.

"i'll... think about it. thank you for inviting me, viktor. i'll let you know if i'm available for the weekend." you smiled at him, before the professor of the class arrived at the class hall.

"i'll be sure to wait for your answer." the tall man said, turning back to his laptop and focusing on the class that's about to start.

step 1 - be friends with viktor stepanov ||accomplished ✓

you opened the front door to your dorm, exhausted from the 1 hour lecture today.

well, to be honest it was 1 hour and almost 30 minutes. the 1 hour being the lecture and the latter was just you getting to know viktor better. he was the one who insisted on it, saying that it's good to know a few things about one another.

at least i've got some information on him, you thought.

"had fun on your first class as a returnee?" scaramouche asked, snickering at your limping body at the front door. he was on the couch, writing something on a book.

you flipped him off before heading to the couch and flopping right beside him. letting out a huge sigh, you leaned your head to the back and relaxed for a moment.

"i forgot how exhausting being an undergrad student can be, or grad, whatever. i don't even know if we should be called undergraduates when we've already graduated years ago." you mumbled, looking over towards scaramouche.

he was wearing his glasses. truly a rare sight. usually, he only wears them in occasions for reading and writing. hence why he never wears them in public. he'd never want to be known for using glasses.

you figured you were the only one who knows that he wears them, since he never bothers to put them away whenever he's with you.

you've always known everything about him, not like it's a surprising thing considering that you've been working with him for the last 5 years. he's a though nut to crack, but he's comfortable enough to loosen up around you once in a while.

"whatcha' doing?" you asked, pointing out to the book in his hands.

"writing some stuff about viktor. just some leads that we've gotten so far. you've got any?" he put his attention away from writing on the book, darting his indigo eyes towards you instead.

"ah, wait. let's see..." you muttered, taking a moment to think.

"he said he likes cooking."

"not related to our case."

"um, he wanted me to teach him how to work out."

"again, irrelevant to the case. and you? working out? you can barely get out of bed whenever childe calls you to go and have a mile run with him." scaramouche scoffed.

"shut the hell up. i almost slipped out and that was the closest word i could think of." you fought, staring daggers at scaramouche.

"anyways, he told me that his dorm is a few blocks away from the human resources building. he didn't say which though, but he did say that i'm always welcomed if i want come and visit." you said, taking another few seconds to think of other information he's said to you.

"ah, he did mention that he has a pretty packed schedule and that i'd have to call him up first before going to his dorm, in which i do have his number." you continued. "it's really suspicious considering he only has 4 classes a week."

"and he told me he doesn't have a roommate so he basically lives alone, pretty much adds up to the case..." scaramouche hummed, listening to your current leads.

"and last but not least..." you opened up your bag and took out a piece of flyer you've gotten from viktor. you shoved it right in front of scaramouche's face.

"what?" scaramouche asked coldly, snatching the flyer away from your hand. "frat house party...? y/n, just because we're back as students for this case, doesn't mean-"

"ah, ah— i haven't told you the news yet. look here." you said, pointing out to a bold text that says 'viktor awaits you' at the bottom of the flyer.

you smiled at your next words.

"apparently viktor has a frat house he doesn't use. every semester he hosts a frat party and invites everyone in campus to have a bit of fun. it just so happens his upcoming party is this weekend." you finished, grinning up at scaramouche.

"oh—oh no. nope, we're not going." scaramouche quickly refused.

"dude, come on! it's part of the case. we are supposed to do everything in order to get enough information on viktor and this is one of the greatest times to do so! do you really want to stay cramped up here, with me, your sworn enemy?" you pressed, shaking scaramouche's shoulders violently.

"do you even remember what happened last time you got drunk at a party?" scaramouche glared at you, shoving your hands away from his shoulders.

ah— that time.

you got extremely drunk and almost got run over by a dumpster truck. pretty ironic, knowing how slow dumpster trucks are.

"i promise i'd be sober this time! we're supposed to catch up on leads, not partying our asses off." you pouted.

"well, it also wouldn't hurt to have at least a bit of fun..." you mumbled.

scaramouche was glaring at you again and you immediately continued your sentence.

"—just to fit in! wouldn't want people to get suspicious of us. come on dude, i already miss my desk and i want to be back before winter hits. you know how winter is in snezhnaya. campus is not a great place to be spending your winter time." you pleaded, looking over to the balcony of your dorms.

the leaves were molten-red and the fall breeze gives a warm welcome to the autumn season. it's one of the only seasons you get to experience without the snezhnaya snow hitting the grounds and freezing up the weather. it gives you a nice feeling to have the opportunity to do the most before winter comes.

"...fine. i suppose a couple of hours there wouldn't hurt." scaramouche reluctantly agreed, looking to your direction. he takes up on the view of you looking over to the balcony. though still pretty early in the afternoon, the view in front of him is mesmerising.

upon hearing his reply, you turned your head back to him, smiling giddily at him while clasping your hands.

scaramouche swore the smile was genuine.

"well then that's settled! i'm looking forward to this weekend." you happily said, standing up and heading to your room.

scaramouche on the other hand was still on the couch, slightly frozen from the sweet smile you gave him a few seconds ago.

his ears were slightly red and he had an embarrassed expression plastered on his face. he blinked a couple of times before bringing a hand up to his face that's currently burning up.

what in the world is happening, he thinks.

it's probably just a fever.

"heading out already?" you asked scaramouche, whilst drying off your wet hair with a clean towel. you just got out of the shower a few minutes ago.

1:32 pm, the clock on the wall read.

he doesn't have class until 3 pm, that's almost an hour and 30 minutes. why is he going out so soon?

"i just need to take care of a couple of things outside of campus." the short male said, taking his car keys from the key bowl you contended on having, saying that it's a nice addition to the dorms. he took his shoes on the shoe rack and slipped them on.

"you've been heading out to run errands outside of campus lately. mind i ask why?" you questioned, heading off to the kitchen to get a drink. he's been leaving the dorms to run off to his car and leave campus for the past few days now.

it's not like you're worried, it's just highly suspicious.

you've always wanted to ask what sort of errands he needed to run that he needs to go out frequently, guess this is a good time to ask.

"what, wanna come?" scaramouche raised his brow, unlocking and opening up the door.

"ah, no, not really. i just wanted to know-"

"then don't ask." he snapped at you suddenly, slamming the door.

you winced at the sound. "jeez, i was just asking. grumpy much..."

you shrugged. well, it's not my business to pry. whatever the hell he's doing outside, it's not my right to need to know. it's not like he'd say it even if you asked him nicely with pleading eyes.

you moved to the couch and took a seat, taking a few moments of relaxation before opening your laptop to finish up more of the investigation work you have on viktor.

you huffed. there's a lot of stuff you'll need to update on before sending it to the precint.

"i wonder what they're all doing..." you mumbled, referring to your co-workers. you miss hearing pulcinella's daily good morning greetings to everyone, childe and his single life problems, signora and her bashful words, and so on.

even if they can get annoying sometimes, they're the reason you enjoy working on this tedious line of duty every day. it's nice knowing that there are other people that are willing to place their lives on a thread just to keep snezhnaya safe.

your phone on the coffee table vibrated. heading to the living room, you took your phone and opened the message you received.

scara

i'm gonna come home a bit late after i'm done with class

i've got something to do.

there's some food i made for you while you were in class

it's in the fridge on the middle

make sure to eat

scara replied to "ive got someth..."

don't bother asking me.

well, looks like you'll have the dorm all to yourself the whole evening.

scaramouche sighed, looking at the texts he sent you.

he appreciates your respect of boundaries. you never bother to pry into his business when he asks not to, while still being caring and thoughtful. it's one of the qualities he likes about you. it's also one of the reasons why he still can stand you after all these years.

he leaned back against the leathered seat of his car before looking back at the parking lot of the dorms.

i'll tell her when the time comes. eventually.

hehe don't be fooled with the title it's just y/n and viktor being friends

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