#idek why but I’m exited | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sixzeroes · 1 year

Text

walk with you.

summary | lee jeno has had you as his best friend for as long as he can remember. every step of the way, you were there, stuck to his side like glue. jeno always believed you’d be his best friend forever, so why is he starting to view you in a different, non-platonic light?

characters | lee jeno x reader(f).

genres | fluff, romance, slice of life, best-friends-to-lovers, childhood friends au, high school au, non-idol au.

warnings | profanity, johnny is jeno’s cousin, johnny is all-knowing and wise, mentions of alcohol consumption, jeno decides to avoid reader :((, unrequited feelings (but they’re actually requited and jeno’s just dumb), kissing at the end!!

word count | 5.6k

37.5MHz | walk with you by nct dream ⋆ beautiful by baekhyun ⋆ tiki-taka by crush ft. dpr live.

gonna be brutally honest idek what tf i was writing half the time so i rly hope the flow of this made sense!! 🥹🥹 but like f2l is lowkey difficult to write i’m never gonna do that again,, ep.02 of my candy! miniseries, but it can be read on its own!

“HEY SIRI, HOW DO I KNOW IF I LIKE SOMEONE?”

“Here’s what I found.”

5 Ways to Tell If You Like Someone

Here Are Seven Methods to Figure Out Your Feelings!

Take This Buzzfeed Quiz to See If You Like Them

Lee Jeno, a simple high school boy, clicks on the first link. The website opens immediately and the title stares at him in a fancy font. He scrolls, skipping the summary to get to the important part.

1. Does your heartbeat accelerate around them?

Jeno thinks back to a few hours ago, when he was walking you home after school. His heartbeat was a little off, speeding up whenever you flashed him a smile.

2. Do you think about them often?

Jeno ponders. He’s always thinking about you—you’re his best friend, after all. But does he think about you often in the romantic context? Hm, he’s not too sure.

3. Do you miss them when you’re not together?

Jeno nibbles on his lower lip. There have been many instances where he wished he didn’t move away and just had to walk up two flights of stairs to where you lived.

4. Do they make you feel good?

Jeno tilts his head. What does that mean? You definitely make him happy and bring joy to his everyday life, but does that qualify as ‘feel good’?

“Jeno! Come have dinner!”

The boy sighs, tossing his phone onto his bed. He scratches his head as he exits his bedroom, reevaluating his feelings based on the questions he just read. Jeno is eighty-seven percent sure the questions perfectly describe his situation when he’s around you. The remaining thirteen percent? He’s just misreading his own platonic feelings.

No, Jeno doubts he’s misreading anything. He’s just…unsure, considering this is the first time he’s ever liked a friend, much less his best friend of all people. He’s unsure if these feelings are even permissible. Can he like his best friend? Is that okay? Jeno’s seen plenty of friends-to-lovers in K-Dramas, and there’s always this hesitance in ‘ruining’ their friendship. What if the things Jeno feels will ultimately cause a rift between you and him? What will he do then? Die? He probably would, because Jeno finds it impossible to picture a future without you. (Some may say this is pure friendship. Donghyuck, the number one Jeno and Y/N shipper, says otherwise.)

This is a tough equation—it’s one of those questions where he’s solved a majority of the maths but needs some guidance on narrowing down the final answer to either three decimal places or two. Jeno is the struggling student, and his teacher?

“Bro, what’s taking you so long?”

Of course, who else other than Johnny Suh, his cousin and self-proclaimed ladies’ man from America?

Jeno shuffles out of his room, meeting Johnny in the hallway. “Can I ask you a question?”

The older man cocks a brow, lips shifting into an amused smile. “Shoot away.”

“Later, after dinner. Let’s go out for ice cream.”

“In this cold weather?”

“Or soju, if you’re okay with drinking alone.”

Johnny Suh’s character is full of surprises, to say the least. To begin, the Korean-American had bought two bottles of champagne back at the airport in Chicago as ‘housewarming gifts’ (“Wait, Jeno isn’t legal? That’s okay, I first drank when I was sixteen.”). Next, he went missing for a week straight (busy spending his nights at Gangnam and Itaewon), only remembering to send an i’m okay! be home this weekend :) text after Jeno’s mother threatened to report him missing. Then, he returned to Jeno’s place with a bunch of snacks from the nearby GS25, offering it as an apology for sending the household into chaos for the past week. Lastly, Johnny introduced a new outlook in Jeno’s life.

Or, well, he’s about to, considering his position in Jeno’s makeshift maths class scenario.

Johnny takes a swig of soju, releasing a satisfied hum after gulping the contents down. In contrast, Jeno nibbles on his ice cream bar, a little nervous to pop the question. He debates on how to word it but eventually gives up, deciding it’s better to be straightforward than to beat around the bush. “Is it…okay to like a friend?”

There’s a moment of silence. Jeno realises how ridiculous his question is. Johnny swirls his soju bottle. “Do you like someone, Jeno?”

“I—What—You can’t answer my question with a question!”

“Oh, I see,” says Johnny, a playful glint in his eyes. “This is about that friend of yours, right? That girl you’re always walking home even though she lives like thirty minutes away? What was her name again? Yonam? Yerna? Ah—Y/N?”

Jeno’s eyes widen and his cheeks grow red. “No! She’s just a friend. We’re just…friends.”

“Sure, sure,” goes Johnny, dismissing Jeno’s weak claims with a fling of his wrist. “Let me tell you something, Jeno. Girls and guys? We can never be ‘just friends.’ It doesn’t work like that, you know.”

“But…” the younger falters. “Don’t you have a lot of friends that are girls, Johnny? I’ve seen your Instagram stories.”

Johnny sips his drink. “That’s different. We’re different. You, my good boy, are a high school kiddo with raging hormones. I am willing to bet my entire life that you like Yona.”

“Y/N,” Jeno corrects him. “How can I be sure that I like her?”

“You can’t, unless you face her with those feelings.” the Korean-American turns to him with a stern face. He presses a finger against Jeno’s chest. “You can hide your feelings from your crush but don’t hide them from yourself. Bask in the fact that you like her while sitting in her presence. Observe yourself. Think about the situation. Are you sure you like her, yes or no?” Johnny finishes the rest of his soju. “Your answer doesn’t lie with me, Jeno. It’s within you.”

Jeno’s heart skips at Johnny’s words, overwhelmed with inspiration. “You’re…pretty poetic, Johnny.”

The latter smugly smiles. “My roommate’s a literature major. He’s kinda rubbing off on me.”

The rest of the evening passes by in a blur, with Johnny drinking four more bottles of alcohol inside the brightly lit convenience store. Jeno drags his feet back to the family apartment with Johnny in tow, the older man’s weight significantly slowing him down. When he arrives, his mother forcefully wakes the Korean-American up and scolds him for drinking so much on a weekday. In response, Johnny hugs her with an intoxicated laugh and falls asleep on the couch. During the entire ordeal, all Jeno can think of are Johnny’s wise words.

It’s within you.

Johnny’s right. In Jeno’s makeshift maths class scenario, the student is Jeno, but so is the teacher. He is the key to the equation he’s struggling to solve.

Tomorrow. When Jeno sees you tomorrow, he’s going to face his feelings and categorise it accordingly.

Wednesday mornings have never been this frightening.

In fact, Jeno has never feared anything as much as facing his feelings while you’re sitting right beside him during the regular route to school. Not much has changed since Tuesday morning: he got on the same subway at the same station with (relatively) the same people for another similar day. Except, he’s ninety-nine percent sure he likes you.

Okay, so maybe a bit has changed since Tuesday morning: he got on the same subway at the same station with (relatively) the same people for another similar day but with newfound emotions.

Johnny told him to ‘bask in his feelings’ and ‘observe himself.’

Jeno is doing everything but that.

He’s a nervous wreck, to sum it up. Every time the subway slows to a stop and your shoulder brushes against his, he feels as if his heart is going to swallow him whole. Whenever you bring up a meme, he absentmindedly laughs as three-fourths of his focus is poured into acting normal. There is little to no eye contact; obviously, Jeno finds the advertisements far more interesting than your pretty face.

Or maybe, he is basking in his feelings and observing himself. The realisation hits him as an elderly woman sits in the empty seat across from him. Jeno is anxious around you. He’s conscious of the way he acts, smells, talks, walks—whatever. You’ve known him his entire life and have seen him at his worst (i.e., his emo middle school era), and yet, Jeno finds the mere idea of you seeing his bedhead horrifying. Such self-awareness is a blessing and a curse.

“Jeno?” you chirp, poking the boy’s side. He reacts with a hum. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

He gulps, trying his best to maintain a cool facade. “I’m just tired,” he answers with a tight voice. “Stayed up late tending to my drunk cousin.” It’s not a complete lie—Johnny was intoxicated last night.

You brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Johnny? He’s your American cousin, right?”

Jeno tries to stay calm at your gesture but his ears are heating up. “Mhm. He’s…wild.”

The conversation dies down immediately. Jeno is jittery, his leg bouncing up and down, eyes darting from one passenger to another. He’s too preoccupied to notice your concerned gaze; too busy presenting himself as normal as possible without realising how abnormal he truly appears.

For the remaining minutes, you don’t say anything, choosing to scroll through your social media feed instead. During the short walk to school, again, no words leave your mouth. Jeno glimpses your quiet figure. Silence is strange on you, but he doesn’t try to tug a sound out of you.

This is the first time the two of you have ever been enveloped in such a sheer layer of awkwardness. Never has there been an instance where it was suffocating to be in the other’s presence—never, until Jeno’s heart decided to think on its own and develop feelings for you.

There.

He’s said it.

Lee Jeno likes you, one hundred percent confirmed during the subway ride to school.

One foot has been in the puddle for the past few weeks, testing the depth below the surface. He tested, and tested, and tested, until he slipped inside, drenching himself in the water.

Jeno wasn’t sure of his feelings. At one point, he figured this more-than-platonic affection for you was just a hoax (don’t ask him why, he doesn’t know either). All he did was sit next to you, just like any other day, with slightly different feelings. And all of a sudden, he fell, and oh, did he fall hard.

He’s drowning even though the puddle wasn’t that deep.

Or maybe, it’s always been that deep. Jeno just failed to realise it before.

“Jeno. You’re scaring Jisu with that glare of yours.”

Huang Renjun is standing diagonal to Jeno’s desk with a small carton of banana milk in his hand. The said boy glances over at his classmate, Choi Jisu, who’s clearly intimidated from his hardened stare. He loosens his expression instantly, averting his gaze back to his friend. “What time is it?”

“Eleven,” says Lee Donghyuck, popping out from behind Renjun. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been staring off into space for the entire morning.”

Na Jaemin, sitting beside him, nods in agreement. “Yeah. Are you sick or something?”

Renjun snorts. “He’s probably lovesick as always.”

Normally, when any of the three boys joke about you and Jeno’s friendship like that, Jeno would always grow defensive and borderline shout, “She’s just a friend!” But today, he sits with his lips pursed, unable to refute the claim. Renjun, Donghyuck, and Jaemin simultaneously drop their jaws.

“No way,” whispers Donghyuck, his eyes wide. “No fucking way.”

“Jeno, you…” Renjun trails off in shock.

Jaemin slaps his shoulder. “You actually like Y/N?”

If a tomato were a person, it would be Jeno. His ears burn and he avoids looking any of them in the eyes, choosing to bury his red face into his arms. He can hear the boys cheering, creating chaos over his recently established feelings. Someone—probably Donghyuck—pats his head, proud of his accomplishment.

“When did you realise?” Donghyuck asks, prodding Jeno’s ear. “You were always so disgusted whenever we called you two lovebirds. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Jeno shrugs, still facing the surface of his desk. “It just happened.”

Renjun finishes his banana milk. “You asked Siri, didn’t you?”

The lovestruck boy whips his head up, bewildered at the correct statement. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

A groan tumbles from Jeno’s lips as he shrinks into his seat. “I’m so screwed. How am I supposed to face Y/N now? I can’t let her know about my feelings. It’ll ruin our friendship.”

“Why do you think that?” Donghyuck says with a sly tone. He observes Jeno’s actions with a playful glint in his eyes. “You never know, she might like you back.”

Renjun chuckles at the not-so-subtle hint while Jaemin simply nods again.

Jeno frowns, sceptically eyeing each of them. “She doesn’t. She recently broke up with Soobin from Class 3-4, so there’s no way she’d develop feelings for me in the span of a month.”

“To be fair,” goes Renjun, “Y/N and Soobin only dated for two weeks. That’s nothing compared to the years you’ve spent together.”

“I agree,” hums Donghyuck, now fiddling with his pencil. “Who cares if her ex-boyfriend is a good-looking guy? You’re okay-looking, so I think you have a shot.”

Jeno rolls his eyes at Donghyuck’s impish grin. “Thanks, Hyuck. You light up my world.”

Jaemin taps the pads of his fingers against his chair. “Why don’t you distance yourself for a bit? Organise your thoughts on whether you’d like to attempt at something or just fold your feelings away.”

The bell rings, indicating the next period’s start. Renjun and Donghyuck retreat back to their seats and Jaemin pulls out an English novel. Ms. Son walks in with a cheerful smile, happily greeting the class to which the students respond. She begins by announcing an upcoming English story competition for anyone who may be interested, listing the important details with a sunny voice. Finally, she moves onto the contents of today’s class, asking everyone to bring out their copies of The Outsiders. Jeno nearly misses her instructions, only grabbing the book from his backpack when Renjun lightly kicks his chair. He tries to pay attention this time, considering how challenging English is, but to no avail, fails. Once again, Jeno’s mind becomes clouded with thoughts about you—only this time, the concern surrounds Jaemin’s suggestion.

Organise your thoughts.

Jeno isn’t sure about where to start.

He sighs, flipping through the pages until he lands on the chapter Ms. Son mentioned. As if his current predicament isn’t headache-inducing enough, the English alphabet is seeking to destroy his peace.

Whatever, he thinks to himself, opting to just stare out the window instead. I’ll figure this out later.

jeno: sorry, y/n. johnny wants to hangout after school today jeno: i don’t think i can walk you home

you: that’s okay!! i’ll see you tomorrow morning, jeno :)

Jeno feels a little guilty lying to you, but he needs to stay away from you right now. Whenever he’s near you, he buffers, unable to act like his usual self. Tonight, he’s going to lay in his bed and decide after thinking everything over. Tomorrow, he’s going to act upon his decision.

Jaemin sits across from him, going through a checklist of some sort. Apparently, the student body president managed to receive a green light for a ‘seniors only’ winter event, and Jaemin has been tasked with managing the necessary materials. Jeno knows his friend is displeased, but alas, he is only vice president, and whatever the president says, goes.

“You’re still here?” Jaemin suddenly inquires, looking up from the pages. “Didn’t Y/N’s club end ten minutes ago?”

Jeno exits Genshin Impact on his phone. “I told her I couldn’t walk her home today because of Johnny.”

“You lied.”

“So I can figure out my desires,” Jeno adds in defence. “I’m gonna take your advice and distance myself for a bit.”

The vice president sets his pen down and leans into his chair. “You should at least tell her you want space instead of avoiding her with no words. She’ll get hurt, you know.”

Jeno licks his lips. “I know, but I’m scared she might catch on if I tell her that. It’s no different from outright saying ‘Hey, I like you.’”

“I guess so.”

The duo are enveloped by silence as Jaemin returns to his duties and Jeno opens Genshin Impact again. He’s setting up to continue his previous play when a message from Johnny pops up.

johnny: yo jeno, wanna go out for dinner? i’ll pay

Jeno sits up straight. “Seems like I wasn’t lying after all. Johnny’s asking if I’m free. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jaem.”

“Mhm.”

jeno: gatten sushi??

johnny: DEAL

It’s been approximately one week since that fateful Wednesday morning, and Lee Jeno has been actively avoiding you. No, he did not heed Jaemin’s advice; he’s too scared to confront you like that. Every morning, he’d hit you with the same excuse over text:

jeno: sorry y/n, johnny wants to hangout until he leaves

And you would answer him with:

you: go have fun with your cousin <3

Jeno’s lies are terrible, he knows that. Somehow, the white lie has become so warped that Johnny now (probably) appears to be an obsessive cousin who’s unwilling to stay away except for during school hours. Johnny wants to walk with Jeno to school and hangout with him afterwards. That’s the story the lovesick boy is sprinting with, and although he feels bad for painting such a strange image of his cousin, it’s not like Johnny’s ever going to cross paths with you.

At least, not in the near future.

Jeno leaves for school an hour earlier than usual. He knows you have no club activities before school and you aren’t a morning person. The earliest you will ever wake up is seven a.m., so the chances of accidentally running into you is approximately four percent.

Jeno’s been successful so far. You haven’t come looking for him either, so he assumes you’ve either realised he needs space or are too busy with extracurricular activities to care.

(He really hopes it isn’t the second one.)

Donghyuck stuffs a spoonful of bulgogi and rice into his mouth, a blissful expression on his face. He continues to inhale more of his lunch until he suddenly perks up. “Look, lover boy. It’s Y/N.”

Instinctively, Jeno turns at the mention of you. He catches your figure standing in line for food with Roh Jeongui and Kim Chaewon. Your eyes meet his, and he offers a sheepish wave to which you smile back. Jeno’s nape grows hot.

You’re too pretty when you smile.

He shyly diverts his gaze to his food, scooping up a portion of his lunch to distract himself. Renjun nudges him with a teasing “Ooh,” which Donghyuck snickers at. Jaemin shakes his head but an amused grin graces his lips. Jeno tickles Renjun’s side. “Shut up, Huang.”

“You know, the winter event for seniors will be happening in nine days,” mentions Jaemin, stirring his soup. “Why don’t you take Y/N as your date?”

Donghyuck claps at the idea. “Jaemin, you wonderful, wonderful man. That is one wonderful idea!”

Renjun chimes, “How romantic. Feels like a fairytale.”

Jeno hopes his cheeks aren’t as rosy as he thinks they are. “No way. I’d rather just go with you guys.”

“Who said we’d want to go with you, though?”

He shoots Donghyuck a glare. “Do you even have a date, Hyuck?”

The younger one proudly grins, his chest puffing up. “I do, actually. I have Renjun.”

The said boy sticks his tongue out. “Too bad, I’m going with your sister, my girlfriend.”

“Sorry, Renjun, but it’s seniors only.” Jaemin interrupts. “The student president wants it to be a special memory for the seniors. Also, we have a tight budget that barely covers the school’s third year population. So, a second year student can't attend.”

Renjun pouts, visibly dismayed. In contrast, Donghyuck’s face is shining with glee. “Guess you’re my date, then, Junnie!”

Jeno consumes the rest of his lunch, thoroughly thinking about Jaemin’s proposition (again). He wonders if he can just ask you to go with him to the event as a friend. Would that be weird? He certainly thinks nothing could be as weird as his feelings for his best friend.

The boy sighs, swamped by the confusing reality he’s living in. Whatever he’s doing cannot go on any longer. He needs to stop avoiding you and confront the yearnings of his heart. But there’s no way Jeno could just suddenly go back to acting ‘normal’ around you—even if he decides to bury his feelings to save the friendship, he’s still going to have lingering feelings and, with no doubt, you would ask him to tell you the truth behind his sudden aloofness.

Jeno is going to confess to you.

The bulgogi thinks he should.

It’s dangerous but he’s willing to take the risk, even if it means that the friendship may never be repaired and he may never be close to you again. But that’s okay, because he’d much rather stay truthful with you during the entire friendship instead of continuing a lie that will eventually bite him in the ass.

Jeno decides to set a deadline for himself: on the night of the winter event, he will confess to you.

He steels his grip around the utensils.

Nine days. Lee Jeno is going to confess to you on the ninth day of those nine days. The eight days prior to the ninth, he’s going to prepare himself for every possible outcome that could occur on Friday evening. He steals an egg roll from Renjun’s tray, to which the older one sputters in shock. Nine days. In nine days, Jeno’s friendship with you is going to accelerate into something more or crumble into pieces.

Nine days.

He’s got this.

Jeno does not have this.

Since when did eight days become equivalent to eight seconds? (The math is not mathing.) Jeno stares at the mirror, his reflection blankly blinking back. He’s dressed in a black suit and adorns a green tie for that pop of colour. It’s not exactly his style, but Renjun proposed the four of them match for their first and last high school event. Jeno decided to go green, while Renjun chose yellow, Donghyuck went with blue, and Jaemin used a colour generator to pick a shade (resulting in purple). He’ll probably find it tacky when he looks back in the future, but right now, he’s rather satisfied with the scheme.

Jeno’s mother blow dries his hair, brushing through the strands with her nimble fingers. She sets the drier down and runs a comb down his bangs, smiling at her beautiful son. “When did my cute son become this handsome?”

Jeno groans at the comment, bashful and embarrassed. “Mom,” he whines, “don’t say that.”

“What?” she laughs, finding his reaction entertaining. “It’s true. You were the cutest baby, I can’t believe you’re graduating soon.”

Me neither, Jeno mentally agrees.

“There you go!” she exclaims, clasping her hands. She steps back and lets Jeno examine his appearance.

“Beware of SM,” Johnny jokes from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He whistles, “You look great.”

Jeno grins. “Thanks, Johnny.” He thanks his mother for styling his hair and walks out of the bathroom, heading to the doorway. His father sticks a thumbs-up in approval from the dinner table. Jeno drags his coat on, plants his feet into his newly-bought dress shoes, and waves to his parents from the entrance. They tell him to have fun to which he replies, “I’ll try!”

(Because, you know, he’s going to confess tonight and that thought alone has him breaking into a cold sweat every five minutes.)

Johnny’s his chauffeur for tonight. His cousin offered to give Jeno and his friends a ride to the school and back, and although he states it’s out of pure love, the younger surmises that Johnny wants to go for a late night drive around Seoul. The two get into his father’s car; Johnny behind the wheel, Jeno in the passenger’s seat.

By car, the ride to the apartment complex where the rest live isn't that far. They arrive there in no time and soon, the car is filled with three teenage boys—Jaemin is a member of the student council therefore having to arrive before six—and one young adult singing along to Big Bang’s Bang Bang Bang the entire ride to school.

“I’ll come by around ten p.m.,” says Johnny, leaning out the window. The boys nod, give their thanks, and run into the building.

“Jaemin!” Renjun shouts, garnering the attention of their friend.

“You guys are early,” the vice president notes, bumping fists with Donghyuck. “Did Johnny drop you guys off?”

Jeno nods. “He’ll be back around ten to pick us up, but let your mother know you’ll be back by eleven. Johnny said he’ll take us out for McDonald’s after.”

“Nice.”

The four of them head down the hallway toward the gymnasium, where the winter event is set to take place. The large room is decorated in golds, whites, and blues, with streamers and balloons hanging from the walls. A long table of snacks and drinks line the wall adjacent to the entrance and a DJ booth is situated in the centre of the stage. Many students have already arrived, even more filtering in as the clock ticks closer to seven. And when the little hand strikes seven, Jeno sees you walk in.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, awestruck.

You look stunning.

You’re walking with Chaewon and Kim Sunwoo, chatting excitedly over God knows what. He’s too focused on your presence to realise Donghyuck’s snapped a few photos of his dropped jaw and wide eyes.

Have you always been this pretty?

“Jeno, you’re staring.” Renjun teases, poking his cheek. Jeno comes back to his senses, ears furiously blushing. He rips his gaze away and clears his throat. He made a mistake. The boys are never going to let him live this down.

“Let’s check out the food!” chirps Donghyuck as the DJ starts blasting music. Renjun happily follows and Jaemin heaves Jeno along.

Jeno is going to confess to you.

Even if the school is burning to the ground or a sinkhole opens below, Lee Jeno will confess his feelings to you by the end of the event.

But first, he’s going to make the most of tonight with his best friends.

Nine p.m., and Jeno has not crossed paths with you once. There’s a lot more students in his year than he’d thought.

“Jaemin!” he hollers into the other’s ear. “I’m gonna go out for a breather!”

Jaemin is too busy dancing the macarena with Donghyuck.

Jeno squeezes himself past the throng of seniors, repeatedly muttering “excuse me” and “sorry” as he seeks to escape the loud crowd. When he manages to stumble through the exit, he runs into you standing in the hallway with a cookie in your mouth.

“Eh-noh!” you beam, chewing on the dessert.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach. “Y/N,” he utters. “What are you doing out here?”

You finish your cookie. “Got too stuffy in there,” you say while dusting the crumbs off your fingers. “I’m guessing it’s the same for you?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you. Under the dim hallway lights, your eyes shine brighter than the stars. “Uh, wanna go for a walk with me?”

You smile. “I’d love to.”

You’re patient, Jeno thinks as the two of you walk to the staircase. He’s been avoiding you for nearly two weeks and yet, you haven’t asked any questions. You don’t pressure him into spilling the beans or confront him about the blatant lies. You understand him, you’re considerate of him, you’ll never make him uncomfortable. Jeno likes that about you. He likes how you and he have opposing qualities that fit like puzzle pieces. He likes how you and he can never run out of topics to converse about. He likes how you and he have a bond that is difficult to severe.

Most of all, Jeno likes the way you smile at him.

Oh, he’s so head over heels in love.

You enter your homeroom, Jeno following suit. Your body moves to the window seat at the very back, glancing outside at the snowing scenery.

“It’s so pretty,” you say, referring to the white night. “I think winter is my favourite season now.”

Jeno hums, leaning against the desk. “I still like springtime more. The cold is too difficult.”

You roll your eyes at his response but he catches your small grin. “Of course, flower boy. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Your gaze stays fixated on the falling snow. Jeno finds it hard to look away from you. He drinks in your appearance—from the way your hair flows, to the line of your nose, to the curve of your shoulders. You’re so perfect, carefully crafted by Aphrodite herself. Everything about you is beautiful, more beautiful than anything in the world. If he could, Jeno would build a museum just to display your beauty.

You finally glimpse at him, tilting your head at his stare. He finds himself getting lost in your eyes. “Jeno? You okay?”

It’s time.

Jeno is going to confess to you.

“Y/N, I like you.”

Jeno just confessed to you.

Your eyes widen and lips part in shock. You furrow your eyebrows at first and then loosen them when you realise he’s telling the truth. Even though the only illumination being provided is the moonlight, Jeno doesn’t miss the way roses bloom on your cheeks. You gulp. “You like me?”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

“I—” You lick your lips, playing with the fabric of your dress. “This feels like a dream.”

His heart jumps. “Y/N?”

You refuse to look him in the eyes, opting to stare out the window again—but this time, with a timid expression. “I…I like you too, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno feels like his heart is about to implode. You like him back. You like him back.

“Are you serious?” he breathes, stepping closer to you. You fervently nod, still maintaining eye contact with the snowfall. Jeno laughs in relief. You let out a yelp as he envelops you in a soft hug. “I like you so, so much, Y/N.”

You return his embrace, hands flat against his broad back. “Did you avoid me because you liked me?”

His breath hitches at your correct assumption. “Y—Yeah. Jaemin suggested I distance myself to figure out my feelings before I come clean.”

“I was really upset, you know.” You raise your head and pout.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, stroking your head. “How can I make up for it?”

Your gaze trails from his eyes to his nose to his lips then back to his eyes. You surprise him with your boldness. “If you give me a kiss, I’ll forgive you.”

Jeno doesn’t need to be asked twice. He gently bumps his lips against yours, cupping your face with both of his hands. Your arms wrap them around his waist, drawing him in closer. You taste sweeter than candy.

Jeno wants to be drunk on this euphoric feeling forever.

He’s about to deepen the kiss when you break away, face redder than the setting sun. “Too fast. That was my first kiss.”

“Same.”

You raise a brow in suspicion. “You were a little too good for this to be your first kiss, Jen.”

Jeno laughs at your statement, poking your forehead with his pointer finger. “I researched a bit.” (Undisclosed: “I watched the K-Dramas my mom put on TV.”)

A serene atmosphere settles in the classroom as Jeno and you simply drown in each other’s presence, drinking in the beauty of tonight’s happening. Your hands play with his loose tie and his fingers graze the small sequins sewed to your dress. “Y/N,” he whispers, “will you be my girlfriend?”

You tug at his tie, bringing him closer. “I’d be stupid to say no.” And you kiss him for the second time.

Love? It’s always been the feeling that reminded Jeno of his best friend, but now, it’ll only remind him of his girlfriend.

bonus: the aftermath.

Two days since the friends-to-lovers scenario, and Jeno is walking you home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Not much has changed—the same subway, the same bus, the same pathway. But then again, everything has changed.

For instance, instead of walking side-by-side with a small distance in-between, Jeno’s left hand is intertwined with your right hand, finding warmth in his jacket pocket.

Monday’s have never been better.

“It feels strange to walk with you as a couple now,” you giggle, snuggling into your scarf. “To be frank, I never thought this day would come.”

Jeno frowns. “Why is that?”

You blow out a puff of air. “Because you’re popular with all of the girls at school. You know, Jeon Heejin fancied you for quite a while! I was scared you’d like her.”

He snorts. “I don’t think you have the right to say that when you dated Choi Soobin from Class 3-4.”

“In my defence, I dated him to get over you! Though, I do feel sorry but I don’t think he liked me that much anyway. He’s dating Hwang Yeji now.”

Jeno stops walking, to which you automatically halt, and he leans over to steal a kiss. “I’m glad you never got over me, Y/N. I’m only ever going to walk with you for the rest of my life.”

Lee Jeno needs to stop making your cheeks hurt.

taglist | @matchahyuck @lovehowdream @niinjo @jeonnyread @pckeia @dandelionxgal @huangstape @lemarkjun @mosviqu @neosdaisy @haven-cove

#neowritingsnet #kpop #nct #nct u #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #jeno x reader #series #au #ff #fanfic #imagine #oneshot #scenario #fluff #romance #slice of life

215 notes · View notes

aaaaatillathenun · 7 months

Text

What the fuck is wrong with today? Did I just wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Is it cosmic?

It started so good. I woke up 45 minutes before my alarm and I was excited to get some “extra sleep”.

There was a big asshole truck driving on the way to work. Like I understand you want some small dick compensation but like at least be able to handle it if you feel the need to get one. This guy kept driving on the line and making me feel unsafe when I tried to pass him.

Then I did my stupid little one hour of work and I discovered that the fucking travel office changed the layout of the travel system we use without telling anyone. A couple weeks after they changed they layout of their website without telling anyone. I fucking hate the travel office. Someone I support has a report pending from a trip he took in April. That’s a whole different fiscal year, shouldn’t there be some consequences for your poor time management? I fucking. Hate. The. Travel. Office.

Then for my fucking class the lab manager didn’t come to open the door to the computer lab the class was in until 25 minutes after it started. Absolute waste of everyone’s time. Everyone was there at 8 in the goddamn morning for a class and your website and door both say that you’ll be there at 8. Where’s the communication? Absolutely fuming. I had to very consciously restrain myself from yelling at him, because honestly fuck that dude. I hope the professor chews him out. I should tell the professor that tbh.

The class was stupid as it always was. CliftonStrengths is a scam.

Then I got lost in the building like a chump trying to get out and I got pissed. I think you’re supposed to exit on the second floor, but how the hell am I supposed to know that? The star on the elevator was next to the first floor.

And its difficult to ride my bike when I’m hauling all the shit around to refill my snack drawer in an extra bag and all the fucking freshmen dont know how to walk on the sidewalks so bikes can get by.

My advising session was actually p good not gonna lie. Someone with the same advisor told me that she didn’t like the advisor bc she was so direct, but idk what she was on bc that was a great advisor and a person I get along with and would like to get the point of view more

Then back at work the fucking fire alarm went off. It was so fucking loud where I was and then we all had to hang out outside for twenty minutes until the firefighters came. And no one knows still if it was a drill or not but idek if it matters bc the “floor safety officers” were so bad at their job and didn’t really know what to do.

Then I found out that one of the systems we use wasn’t set up properly for me and I talked to my supervisor about it to try and get her to fix it. THEN I found out that I had actually been looking in the wrong place for a fucking year and it WAS set up correctly.

Also I checked my bank account and the term tuition has not been taken out of my bank account even though I have the payment confirmation. So I’ll wait for another like week and then check again.

I also realized that I forgot to pay rent and utilities for October. I need to let my roommate know that I’ll be renewing for another 6 months. However part of this non payment is bc she didn’t put any of the utilities i to tricount so idk what I owe her. I’ll get the check when I get home today tho. Hopefully she’ll let me waive the three day late fee because she also didn’t do anything for the utilities.

I hate when my job makes me feel like a travel agent and reimbursement machine but when it’s anything else I’m so out of my depth because all I ever do is travel shit.

Lets see how the rest of this shit day will go. I still have an hour and a half left of work plus I said I would show my face at a social event for my volunteer club, but that’s ok bc the new officers will be picking up the tab so I get a free drink or 2. But then I have a bunch of readings to do tonight.

Why the fuck did i decide that working and going to grad school at the same time and also living so far from everything was a good idea.

#personal #also why is it catching?#i mean honestly one of my friends in a different state is also having a bad day

0 notes

x4ver1a · 9 months

Note

Yeah it was a rant, sorry i was frustrated. No he’s not my boyfriend. One could say it’s kind of those trendy ‘situationships’. I can’t even be 100% open about him since, of course, you don’t even know this dude… cuz also that’d be like doing him dirty, which he’s done so many times to me. Sad part is.. He NEVER realises anything as he always views things only from his pov. Always. He always manipulates situations, just to view himself as the right one & making me a clown. If i were at his place and he was on mine, I don’t think he could’ve even done 2% of action n active effort, so frkn regularly! as i’ve been doing. He’d have stayed quiet (he’s the type to write the shortest sentence possible irl). I made it so obv, so clear n was always well-intentioned (he never sees any of it). While he can’t even afford ‘not being vague’.. i mean.. he never even had that intention, ever.. like once life did it for him, yet he still.. idek ugh (2nd time, life did it for me). None of this could’ve happened if i had more experiences to compare this with (i so wish i had em) It’s so heavy for a first experience, that’s y only i think i was never able to decide or have a sense of, if this is smth that should be dropped or worked through. I’ve been tolerating it for so damn long just in hopes of some light at the end, which is so gone, i now realise. Just realised now it’s much easier for him to make me a clown. Who could’ve done so much, just out of.. especially when they didn’t really have a reason to, when they could always exit! (he himself has this “im not approaching anyone, approach me” & “if we’re not really in one, why should i” kinda mindsets, i wish even i had ‘em). I’m damn sure now i cant continue with this game and his sheeps cuz i genuinely went crazy.

Im just ranting n it’s alright if u discuss this on your servers. I dont mind if it’s a topic for you lol. But anyway THANKS A LOT, for having patience :) You won’t even understand majority of this..its just a rant, dont have to take it seriously. Yeah im done now💀 haha.

Damn I have no words, for me I would just straight up make it clear tbh, i had cloudy people, people that give mixed signals. You could have just been like "dude stfu" or smth lmafo 😭

#answered asks #anons #anon asks

0 notes

mashayla · 3 years

Text

I ordered a spiderman suit and it’s coming in on the 29th! I’m exited omg

I was a little mad bc I wanted to order it as a women’s suit because then I wouldn’t have to alter it but it’s fineeeeee

#spider man #amazing spider man #tom holland #idek why but I’m exited #it was expensive

4 notes · View notes

cno-inbminor · 3 years

Text

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings: DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him. It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,” he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #childe #tartaglia #childe angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #this fic maybe took two years off my life

552 notes · View notes

t0shii · 3 years

Note

i said i was going to request something but i’m not creative😭😭 idk just angst to fluff, like feeling insecure (?) perhaps because they’re pro vb athletes and there’re a lot of girls that don’t respect us and then we get sad and start thinking that maybe we’re not enough to them?

idek if this is good, so ofc you don’t have to write it is you feel uncomfortable or unmotivated bby!! but if you do decide to do it, could you include oikawa, tsukki and sakusa? also, tysm in advance <333

% their fans disrespect you

.! timeskip! oikawa, tsukishima, sakusa (sep) x f!r

.! fluff/ not proofread

.! yess! ty sm for the request my love!

oikawa

- i hc that oikawa and his fans get along 😩

- so most of them respect ur relationship

- but ofc there are some fans who wanna be ugly

oikawa frowns at the group of fans outside his car, though not all of them are yelling nasty things about you there was one particularly loud girl who would not shut up about how he should be with her instead of you. honestly it seems that he's more upset over the girl than you are and luckily the other fans around shut her up before the two you exit the vehicle.

just like always, oikawa takes pictures with the small group, signs autographs, etc. until the girl from earlier appears in front of him "oikawa, can i get a picture please?" she beams, ignoring your existence. he quirks an eyebrow before chuckling, "no." the other fans quiet down immediately, "w-what?" "i said no, i will not take a picture with you. had you respected my girlfriend earlier, i would've said 'yes'. so no, i will not take a picture with you. i hope you learn to treat others with respect in the future."

tsukishima

- god he usually just ignore his fans in general when he goes out because he hates that they crowd around

- but this time they just really were not respecting your personal space

- is so angry omg pls he cannot stand that they're all over you

all he wanted was to spend his one day off with you, all he wanted was one peaceful date with you- but he can't be famous and happy can he? especially when his fans are crowding around the both of you like puppies to a treat. his grip on your hand tightens as he tries he best to lead you away from the group of fans. he wasn't entirely sure what made him more uncomfortable, the fact that they were invading your personal space or the extremely personal questions they were asking you about him, finally he couldn't take it anymore.

"please get away from my girlfriend!" he shouts, it has the whole group freezing in place immediately. "please go away, dear god. can my girlfriend and i not go on a date in peace? don't you people have something better to do?" he takes advantage of the moment and pulls you out of the crowd, leading you away. "i'm sorry i had to raise my voice." he mumbles once you're both far enough away from the crowd, "no kei, you did the right thing. they were out of line." "but i don't enjoy raising my voice in front of you." he sighs. "don't worry about it kei, let's just have fun on our date hm?"

sakusa

- isn't too active on social media so he doesn't really see the amount of hate you get there

- it wasn't until atsumu brought it up that he decided to see for himself

- is horribly angry when he sees all the nasty comments under your posts

"i just don't get why you didn't tell me, why'd i have to find out through atsumu?" he seethes "omi, i just didn't want you to worry about them, besides i don't care about they think anyways." you argue, "well, i care." he huffs, basically deflating. "i don't like that they say mean things about you" he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist, "i know omi, but honestly i don't care about them. the comments don't bother me." he nods against your shoulder.

"would you tell me if they starting getting to you?" "of course i would, baby." "does it really not bother you?" "hm it did at first, but then i saw so many other fans defending me, and i realized that i only really care about what you think about me, not some jealous fan girls." you chuckle, running a hand through his hair, "and besides, i'm the real winner because i have you." he hides his face into the crook of hour neck, "i guess so." "mhm so stop worrying so much kiyoomi." "alright." "okay." "i love you, y/n, so much." "i love you so much more, omi."

< reblogs appreciated >

473 notes · View notes

lilxberry · 3 years

Text

That’s My Girl - Scott Lang

Requested by: @bnhaxreaderquotes

Could I have a Scott Lang x longterm girlfriend fic?? Where she’s like super strong but super dumb?? Like she’s Thor but human and female XD bonus if she lifts Thor’s hammer to get to something and everyone’s like 👀 and she’s like ??? And scots like 🥰 “that’s my gf”

I loved this idea, I just really didn’t want to use the word stupid so much lmao I mostly referred to reader as “slow” I believe but like, this whole thing is kinda cute asf so I’m happy with it. I hope you’re happy with it too

Warnings: Like, a singular swear. Sweet ass Scott. Upset!Reader? IDEK ANYMORE.

Words: 1,645

Pairings: Scott Lang x Reader (female reader) (super strong reader?)

Unplanned sequel; That’s My Wife

_______________

There’re many words to describe you.

Sweet? Yes. Kind? Yep. Selfless? Definitely. Beautiful? 100%. Strong? No doubt.

Stupid?

No, just…slow.

It’s not that you lacked intelligence, just, your brain worked at a different pace to that of others. Your fellow teammates could tell you that. Especially your partner Scott.

Scott, the sweetie pie that he is, certainly tries his best to help you catch up, to understand things that hadn’t really made sense to you at first. He’s no stranger to defending you either, no matter who or what it’s against.

Including your teammates.

“So, like C-3P0?”

Your head was tilted in confusion and your face was scrunched up as you tried desperately to understand what Tony was talking about.

You had walked into the lab finding all of the Avengers surrounding Tony rambling on about his newest creation, engineering some crazy new robotic tech. The others that had been subjected to his showcasing had explained to you that he’d called them in, forced them to watch the unveiling of Frankenstarks newest monster.

When you had asked why you hadn’t been called in, you’d missed the way Tony and the others tensed up. They knew that you wouldn’t understand a word Stark was speaking, as if the man were speaking some foreign language to you, but they didn’t want to explain that it was because you were ‘dense’.

The heaven-sent that is Scott stepped forward, a big, bright smile on his face as he entwined his fingers with your own as he came up with an excuse for the billionaire, saving Starks’ skin and sparing your feelings.

“He thought you’d find it boring. We all do to be honest honey but only so many of us are lucky enough to have an out,” was the sugar-coated explanation he conjured up on the spot.

You bought it easily, nodding in understanding with the sweetest of smiles before reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. The others visibly relaxed, though you were oblivious as you stared up at Scott with a love-sick expression.

You had then gone on to ask what exactly it was that Tony had been working on which had led to a longwinded explanation with wild gestures and a heap of words you certainly didn’t understand whatsoever. Truth be told, he’d lost you within the first sentence.

Tony heaved a sigh. “No, not like C-3P0. The design is completely different and the level of A.I. being used it higher than that of C-3P0,” he spoke exasperatedly, a mocking tone taking over his tone near the end.

Feeling even more confused that what you had originally felt, you tried once more to understand.

“So…like Vision?”

Sam snorted as majority of the others smirked or tried to supress their smiles, Vision unsurprisingly seemed stoic as ever. Tony, on the other hand, had a look of genuine surprise. Almost looking proud.

“Uh, yeah, actually. You worked that out a lot faster than I thought you would honestly,” Tony said as an off-handed comment causing the others to still and Scott to tense slightly beside you while your brows furrowed.

“What’d you mean?”

Scott once again interjected to save the day, dragging your attention to him instead. “None of us really got it, that’s all. I’m pretty sure Thor still doesn’t, honestly.” He whispered the last part as he pointed his thumb towards the towering, blonde Asgardian.

Although your heart fluttered at the thought of Scott trying to be so sweet and kind to you, you couldn’t help the hurt that spread through you. You knew how the others viewed you, how they thought you were stupid, how you don’t understand anything.

Rather than show it affected you, you forced a smile on to your face and a tiny giggle to pass your lips.

Glancing at the others before allowing your eyes to fall back on to your boyfriend, you kept the feigned smile on your lips as you spoke. “I just remembered I gotta load of stuff to do. I’ll see you guys later.”

Scott flashed you his pearly whites in a wide smile before pecking your forehead and giving you a quiet “Sure babe.”

Walking backwards, you called out loudly to the group before exiting the room. “Have fun with Vision 2.0.”

Usually, when the team unintentionally commented on you in such a way, it would never really affect in such a negative way but today, it was just a series of failure after failure, your day all-round being bad.

From the comment in the lab, to the accidental breaking of a trainee’s arm due to you forgetting the strength you held over others, to Steve and Bucky taking the last of the coffee in the pot of the coffee machine which you had no idea how to work.

You had even bumped into someone in the hallway, the file you had been carrying falling to the ground and the papers inside scattering across the floor in disarray, leaving you to try reorganising the lot, taking a whole hour and a half.

It’s unfortunate that the person to be at the end of your disgruntled mood would be someone who you strongly considered a friend.

The Avengers who were currently residing at the compound were all scattered within the main living area and the open kitchen when you walked in, looking dishevelled as you frantically searched for a package that you had been notified had been delivered.

Walking through, you looked to see if the damn thing was atop any table you passed. Hell, you even lifted one of the chairs slightly to see if someone was cruel enough to hide the thing under it.

Although everyone had opted to watch you curiously, it was your sweet Scott to break the silence.

“Hey honey, whatcha’ doing there?” he asked curiously.

You grumbled out your answer, honestly ready for the day to be over with. “I’m looking for my delivery.”

Sam snorted before pointing towards the island in the centre of the kitchen. “You mean that massive package right there?”

Low and behold, there sat your package on top of the cool, marble surface, just with an added feature. You scowled, storming over towards the thing. You turned your fiery gaze to Thor, who was overall minding his own business chowing down on the entire contents of a Pop Tart box.

“WHY DID YOU PUT YOUR HAMMER ON MY FUCKING DELIVERY?!” You roared out, everyone’s eyes widened in complete and utter shock, Thor even jumped at the sudden loud booming. As he opened and reclosed his mouth repeatedly in a pathetic attempt to say something, anything, you continued.

“There could’ve been something really important in there! Or-or super fragile or something! What if you broke it?!”

During your explosion at the poor Asgardian, you happened to grasp the handle of Mjölnir and lift it with ease, causing everyone’s eyes to widen further and even a few mouths to drop open, gaping at the sight in front of them, Tony choking on his drink that he had been taking a sip of. Although Scott was just as shocked as those around him, he more so looked like a small child who’s completely wonder-struck, a twinkle in his eye.

“Never, and I mean NEVER, put your hammer on my damn things again. GOT IT?!” You shoved the hammer into Thors’ chest harshly, causing him to fumble to get a hold of it.

Once certain he had a tight grasp on the thing, you released your hold and spun on the spot, now becoming witness to everyone’s flabbergasted expressions. “WHAT?” you asked in exasperation and confusion, today completely tiring you out mentally and emotionally.

A pregnant silence befell you all before Scott suddenly jumped out of his seat, face ecstatic, arms raised high into the air above his head, hands balled up into fists, a loud and excited shout escaping him.

“YES!”

“You-you’re worthy?” Thor asked quietly to no one in particular.

Your brows furrowed deeply, now entirely confused and ever so slightly self-conscious. “What?”

“You’re worthy babe! Hell yeah! Up top!” he had made his way over towards you, now one arm raised with his hand now relaxed, waiting on you to give him a high five.

“I’m not following…”

“Only Thor could lift the hammer ‘cause he was the only one who’s worthy or whatever. It’s like impossible for anyone else to lift it,” Clint started to explain before being cut off by Natasha.

“Until you, that is. You’re the only other one whose been able to lift it.”

“Oh,” was all you said before shrugging your shoulders and waddling your way past Scott and towards your package on the kitchen island, picking it up and beginning to walk away.

Before you left though, you thought this to be the perfect opportunity to finally boast about something that you had been able to do that the others couldn’t. “Well, I may be stupid but at least I don’t put my back out by trying to lift a little hammer.”

You smirked as you continued to walk away, your destination being your room, package what would be heavy to most in your arms. Scott laughed loudly, something you could hear as you continued to retreat to your bedroom.

Meanwhile…

“HELL YEAH! THAT’S MY GIRL! WOO!” Scott began to follow after you, still shouting out every single word he spoke. “HONEY! THAT WAS LIKE THE COOLEST THING EVER! DID YOU SEE THEIR FACES?! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell Cass. SHE’S GONNA FREAK!”

The Avengers were still suck in their retrieves of shock, all unmoving, all trying to process the newfound information that you could lift the hammer.

Thor seemed to be taking it the worst, looking ever so slightly frightened, gulping loudly.

“I believe I have new matters to discuss with my father...”

_______________

I love any Paul Rudd character just as much as him

I even have a t-shirt with his beautiful ass face on lmao

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

_______________

Marvel taglist:

@thanossexual

309 notes · View notes

mypersonmyg · 2 years

Text

808

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst?, college au, established relationship, misery chick couple

wc: 2.6k

warnings: language, tiny bit of angst

a/n: idk i was bored and i started writing this instead of fulfilling my responsibilities. idek if it’s any good, but here it is <3

“You’re falling asleep.” Like habit your fists bunch the fabric of Yoongi’s sweater, burrowing into the beat of his chest, his heart running in tandem with the 808s penetrating the mesh of his speakers. It’s the eighth track of ten, but his ears were lost to all but white noise by around three. It was then that you wandered in, post study session with Jeongguk to find him sprawled on hardwood, eyes closed, hands folded to rest along the expanse of his loose tee. You don’t ask why he’s laying amongst the build of clothes and crumpled paper because you’re well aware of the meticulous logistics in his position of listening.

He didn’t have to look to feel your presence, a shift between the cream colored walls tangible as soon as you walked in. He swears he could smell the sweetness of you in the small distance, scent dancing in the flow of a crisp breeze. His arms pushed outward and welcomed you without pause, but he could feel you tipping around the room for longer than the space between should’ve granted your strides. It was then that he peeked a pupil to find you rummaging the chair piled high, pulling free his most oversized sweater. Too big for all of his roommates combined, you joked the first time you witnessed it swallow him whole.

He was powerless to fight the stretch of his muscles into the fondest of grins watching you tug at the sleeves until they loosened into cuffs around your wrists only to steadily slip back to hungry paws. He happily noted the push of your brows and the pull of your lips as you decided the distance was too great and the sweater not worth the extra time keeping you inches from floored comfort.

You discarded your phone on the far reaches of his desk and toed over to where he lay, gently lowering yourself to straddle his waist, hands resting at the push of his pecks through his shirt. Your trajectory is head to heart, aching for the pulse mixed with the pulsing beat, but you couldn’t completely settle until your lips molded the plush of his own dampened by the routine dip of his tongue to the cracked flesh. It was then that you crawled inside of him, drenched through and through in the feeling of warmth, devoured in a love unending and promptly began to fall asleep.

Yoongi doesn’t mind it, the lull in your breathing or the slight loosening of your fingers joint grip against the t-shirt covering his frame and the sweater covering yours. His fingers have found pleasure in the gentle stroke against the skin exposed at your waist and his chords have subconsciously begun to cling to the beat drastically polar to the aura settled like warmth in his stomach. His lips are slightly parted, wisps of air exiting with the vibration of his voice low and riding the perspiration concentrated in the speed of sound.

“I’m not,” You hush. It’s barely audible and he wonders if he should pause and guide you to the comfort of his new mattress. The one you spent hours exploring the furniture warehouse for, adamant that he should get a good one if he wanted you to stay over more often.

He’d decided long before that moment that he wanted you to stay forever, hopefully long enough to move on from the cluttered den of men he’s sentenced himself to for the duration of his college career. Only glad that Jeongguk has an ongoing affair with a hoard of fabric softeners and that Hoseok’s insistence on a weekly cleaning schedule keeps the place from smelling like the violent tossing of delicates he’s subjected to pulling from the crevices of the sofa far more often than he’d prefer.

“Come on. Get in bed,” He attempts to sway you from over top of him, but your limbs cling koala-like, a string of incoherency drowned in the climactic edge of the album's farewell. “Come on, I picked this out just for you ya know.”

He watched you walk to every mattress, his own refusal to try them for size proving the perfect ruse for your own push to the plush of each foamed bundle. He watched every line in your face and waited for the most minute of changes in your expression, his own fairytale in the making. He finds comfort is nestled in the way your nose scrunches and he prides himself in catching it whenever you feel triumphant in your endeavors.

It was only then that he felt it, sauntering over to the picture of perfection, your arms splayed out on the mattress like it was already yours. He felt like this could be his forever. Now there’s seldom a night left without occupation at his side in the shape of cuddled limbs and your light snores pushed against him with a heat akin to licking flames.

“You picked this out because your old one had springs practically stabbing you in the back.”

“Babe, the floor’s not comfortable. I promise you’ll sleep much better in bed.”

“I’m not on the floor, you’re on the floor.” Touche. He falls back from where his elbows attempted to lift you both, your hand gliding the length of his arm to rest at the pulse of his wrist. Your fingers dance along the skin until your palms rests flat against his own, fingers curling around until you’re clasped together. “I’m the most comfortable. I can hear your heartbeat. It speeds up at certain parts of the song.”

“It’s speeding up because you’re laying directly on top of me.”

“Oooh is it because you like like me?”

“Something like that.”

His reintroduction as more than just an entity of the beauty resting against him draws his attention to the length of his room. Your notebooks are piled high on his desk and your backpack is nestled beside his in the corner near the door where one of your hoodies dresses the hook beside the hinges. There’s more of you decorating him than even he realized.

Your clothes are peeking out from the drawer he emptied after your first month together, your comfort slowly filling it with the things you don’t steal from his own wardrobe. Even so he can see hot pink poking from the closet and he can’t recall which of you it belongs to, deciding that it doesn’t actually matter. Your

There are half empty bottles of water, doubled because you’re both horrible at finishing them. The habit of finding both your lips occupying the same plastic, doing little to dwindle your clutter before you switched to reusable fills. Your various rings and bracelets mingle with his own on the dresser trailing to the nightstand where chains dangle waiting to spill over with the accidental push of a charging phone to the wooden top. His favorite is the mixture of music piled to the brim of his stereo, the few and far of doubles now less concerning than it felt when you proudly added to his collection.

“You’re cute.” Your index pushes the button of his nose, head lifting from his chest to rise higher to the crook of his neck. Your body manages to shield him even more, both of your shirts riding up in the attempt and his breath hitches when the heat of your torso presses against his own. “Am I distracting you?”

“From what?”

“From your music.” It’s all but died out now, the last track falling to nothing but the sound of the current flowing through the ancient speakers.

“I’ll just listen another time.” He’s unapologetic in his preference to pay attention to you, the songs already harboring space on a healthy number of his playlists beyond enough to make up for the lapsed album. You push your face further into him, the bridge of your nose lifting to press against his collar.

“Ugh, I am.” He’s suddenly doused in the cold of the air vent violently targeting from the ceiling. The room is all but static, his ancient sound system run low on the flow of new tunes. He shifts so his back is pressed against the foot of his headboard and notices your eyes pouted and glancing toward the discard of plastic from the uncasing of his new cd and the sturdy holder left open on the floor beside the stereo. “You’ve been waiting for this album for weeks and I should’ve left you alone to listen. You’re allowed to kick me out, you know. It is your room.”

He doesn’t miss the emphasis of the latter half, adamant that you’re intruding on something he’s more than happy to share. Yoongi’s prepared to wipe away traces of the doubt dancing your features when your eyes trace the room and the lines of your lips fall to chase the edges of your chin flattered by your muscled divot. He’s sinking and he doesn’t quite understand why, the irritant of the spitting speakers forcing his gaze from you to haphazardly yank the cord from the wall. You don’t speak as you rise to your feet, following his previously coordinated trail of your mingled living space.

“What’s wrong?” He’s too wired to sit still, standing on his feet to rest his hands on your shoulders deflated by whatever you’re thinking.

“Yoongi, this is all my stuff.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Doesn’t it bother you that I’m in your personal space so much? I should take this stuff home. You already live with six other people, I don’t need to be taking up any more of your very limited storage.” You shrug the rest of his hand and begin sorting through your cohabitation, before Yoongi can grasp the rapid shift in the calm of the room.

He’s still stuck staring when you grunt, a frustration that pierces his chest when he witnesses your failed attempts at dismantling metal where a pair of necklaces have laced together in an impressive knot.

He almost laughs, your earlier comment about the beat of his heart taking hold ten fold. The rapid bump of the appendage now wracked with nerve pushing love to the back burn.

“Whoa, where the hell is this coming from? You’re my girlfriend, I want all of your stuff here.”

His hand falls atop yours, loosening your hold on the neck pieces. The movement of his fingers stutter when he catches sight of the build of wet at the edge of your eyes. The feeling that there’s more to your sudden change is achingly apparent now as he guides you to the mattress that’s known nothing but the two of you tangled beneath the sheets.

“No, this is too much. I practically live here now! You know my roommate asked if she should look for someone else to renew our lease with next month? She said I’m practically glued to your side.”

“I don’t mean to seem totally lost here, but is there something wrong with that?” He’s starved in the moments without touch, your bodies so close yet separated by a boundary created by someone he’s met in passing of the narrow lane separating the rooms in your apartment.

His ill will towards her, he can’t even recall her name, was previously nestled in your frequent complaints. They’re part of the reason your body warmed his bed so early on. Otherwise he’s not sure he would’ve had such an easy time convincing you he wants nothing more than to wake up to your sleep puffed cheeks and the adoring smile often met when he wakes to the trace of ghost fingers connecting sporadic freckles.

“I don’t want you to get sick of me or whatever.” You shrug, hand finding him to fiddle with the length of his fingers to allow the roughness of his skin to engulf you. He recalls your call for comfort in the feeling of him against you and his body nestles close, lips leaving phantoms against your crown.

“It’s funny.”

“What?”

“You think I wouldn’t get in my car right now and pack up the rest of your stuff for you.” You do laugh and it’s progress, but he still appreciates the hesitance in the tense of your frame. It’s never his intention to pressure you into two steps forward because the tumble back might be too much to bear. But he’s comfortable in his feelings for you, and it’s uncomfortable to think that you think otherwise. “I will. If you want.”

“I know.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“I know.” He frowns. The lines of his face growing tired of the downward pull and the strings of his heart tightening to the strength of never-ending length so that his own eyes strain to see beyond the fluorescent glow that stains the white of the walls and reflects off the pane of sunset glass. “If you break up with me I’ll be homeless.”

“Well I guess I just won’t break up with you, dork.”

“I’m serious! You don’t have to worry about it because this is your house. I’m like a walking expiration date.”

“I’m really trying to take you seriously,” He tugs the weight of your arm, guiding you to his lap, his body falling back to the mattress to mimic your own movements on the day of purchase. “But all I’m hearing is that you wanna move in with me.”

“Well I do love you…” You trail the length of his chest, resting your index against the bow of his lips while your own tug between your teeth. “But-”

“I think if we broke up Jeongguk would be very happy that he can finally get bunk beds. But we’re not gonna break up so just shut up and kiss me please?” His bottom lip pokes out dramatically, wetting the pad of your finger with its sudden protrusion. You feign to oblige, your head dipping to meet inches from his own while his eyes flutter to a close. The warmth of his breath fans your face and you’re frozen in a moment of pure clarity.

You rest your head against his own, the kiss of your noses and the feathery touch of your cheeks distracting you from the task at hand. It’s enough for the flicker of deep brown to inquire beneath you, Yoongi’s mouth opening with a mumbled, “You okay?”

You're lost in him, inhaling his heady scent and shivering against the vibration of his voice against your chest. You feel silly, the past few minutes seeming like nothing more than a passing haze of uncertainty thrust from the valley of nowhere meant to infiltrate the wellness of your being. You fight the question of Yoongi’s intention, his graceful navigation of your momentary state, not something you’re used to experiencing so close to the capacity of love.

“I’m perfect.” You ghost your lips against his, pulling away when he chases the feeling forward. You roll off of him, body falling to the bare side of the mattress, the sheets cool against the skin of your neck. “I just…you were right. This bed is really comfortable, I think I could just fall right to sleep.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss a beat. Where you expected his gentle pile on top of you, he rose to stumbled legs and tossed a hand through his messily ruffled tresses. You can sense the amusement in his shoulders slightly shaking from behind, the words tossed over his shoulder enough to send you toppling after him before he can reach the door.

“I guess I better go talk to Jeongguk about those bunk beds then.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #myg x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #yoongi drabble #min yoongi scenario #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #min yoongi #fic: the misery chick #myg drabble #bts drabble #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #myg fanfic #min yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction

77 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The Third Year

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapter Words: 7.290K

Chapter Notes: Wanda x Reader friendship is here. And more about the world history. I’m pretty sure this is the last chapter where things are easy going. Just like Harry Potter, things start to get dark during four year. Good reading to everyone, i hope you like the story so far.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @ichala

//-// x //-// //-// x //-//

Your list of materials is much longer in the third year.

Tony complains that you shouldn't have taken so many classes, but you are so curious to explore the areas of magic that you can't help it.

This time, Mantis meets you in the diagonal alley. You were hoping to spend some time with Gamora and Nebula as well, but once you get a glimpse of their father, you know that's not going to happen.

Thanos is a tall, muscular man, and has a permanent aggressive look on his face. He also kept his hands on the shoulders of his two daughters while they were waiting to be attended to at Flourish and Blotts. You also noticed that your friends were wearing very beautiful and remarkably expensive dark green capes, and just like their father's outfit, they had a bundle of a silver snake. That was the first time you understood what Slytherin pride meant.

"He's scary." Mantis commented softly beside you. You nodded in agreement. Groot, who was a little bigger since you saw him last year, jumped on your shoulder, sitting next to your ear. You smiled at the creature before looking forward again.

You and Mantis were standing at the entrance of store, and saw your friends through the window. You gave up the idea of complementing them when you saw their father.

"Let's restock the potions list first, Mantis." You tell her. "Then we'll buy our books."

You meet Tony again at the Leaky Cauldron after you finish. He hides something from you quickly, but you are distracted by an apple muffin flying towards you, and you don't ask.

Bucky was staying at the Leaky Cauldron because his house had a magical accident. His father said something about a persistent spell flood. Since the rest of Bucky's family were muggle, only he and his father were staying there, solving the problem while Bucky's sisters were at his aunt's house.

Since everyone needed to buy the materials for the new school year, Tony asked you to join his friends when you were done buying your stuff.

After lunch with everyone, Mantis said goodbye to you, and you returned Groot to her hands.

You led her to the exit of the bar, but as you walked back to the table, a conversation caught your attention.

"I'm telling you, they saw him in Sokovia." A bearded man whispered. He looked so nervous, you couldn't help but pay attention. The woman standing next to him, a cup of a strange liquor in her hands, rolled her eyes.

"That's miles away, Thomas." She said. "If Korvac gets anywhere near London, the ministry will send him back to Azkaban in two seconds."

"He's already escaped once, Sara." You rebut the man.

You frown at the conversation. Walking back, you have a thoughtful frown on your face, and Tony teases you.

You get distracted by Steve's jokes about the coming year, and forget all about it.

It's only after you've packed your bag, during dinner, that you remember.

"I heard something strange today." You say casually as Tony and your father dine beside you. "Some folks in the Leaky Cauldron were talking about someone escaping from Azkaban."

Your father chokes. Tony stares at you, and ducks his head when your father looks at him angrily. Howard gaze softens when he looks at you however.

"Honey, who told you that?"

You shrug.

"No one told me dad." You reply. "I ended up overhearing two strangers talking about it. I never knew about anyone escaping from Azkaban before, it seemed important."

Tony kicks you under the table, and you frown in confusion. Your father takes a deep breath.

"Honey, listen to me carefully, will you?" He begins, and you worry at his serious tone. "There are important things going on at Daddy's work. Things that could be dangerous." He says and you look at him in surprise. "You and your brother are too young to be getting into such matters, and I hope you will trust me to keep you both safe."

"Yes, dad." Tony assures, but you remain silent. A moment later, you add:

"Daddy, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No honey." He says taking back his fork.

"It's okay to tell me what's going on, I won't be scared. I can help..."

"Enough!" He exclaims angrily punching the table. You jump lightly in your chair, startled. Your father doesn't look at you. "I don't want you to hear anything about this anymore. You two are children, and it's dangerous. Have I made myself clear?"

You look at Tony, but he is glaring at the plate in front of you.

Swallowing the urge to cry, you get up, hurrying to run to your room.

Your father calls you several times, but you don't answer.

A few minutes after you are in your bed, he appears in your room. His posture is much gentler than before, and he kneels down beside your bed.

"Honey, hey." He calls to you. You keep your face in the pillow, and he sighs. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." He says, and with your silence, he continues. "Can you forgive me?"

It takes a few seconds, but you look at him, and nod. Howard smiles faintly.

"You and your brother are the most important things in my life." He says fondly. "And I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me."

"Dad, you can't control what is in the rest of the world."

Your father chuckles lightly.

"Yeah I know." He says. "Damn, I wanted you to stay a little girl forever, so you wouldn't be so smart."

You laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" You ask and your father sighs, looking away.

"It's nothing that will affect you honey." He says. "It's just problems of the magical world. I don't want you meddling in something like that. Not at this age."

You sit down on the bed next, raising your pinky to your father.

"I swear I won't pry into such business if you promise to tell me if things get serious enough for me to know."

Her father laughs, raising his own pinky then.

"I promise, kiddo."

You both laugh as you take the oath, and your father hugs you next. When he lets go and stands up, you pull his hand away.

"Apologize to Tony, Daddy." You ask surprising him slightly. "He doesn't like it when you yell either."

Your father sighs, bending down to kiss your forehead. He asked you to go to sleep before he closed the door.

//-//

It is very cold when you arrive at Hogwarts.

But you don't care because all your friends link arms and walk together, making you laugh at the confused looks you get when the other students notice the small row.

Over dinner, your mood changes quickly however.

"I imagine it has come to the attention of many students here, especially the older ones, the recent untoward events in the magical world." Principal Harkness began during the announcement of the new school year. She had a serious and authoritative tone, and deep dark circles under her eyes. You have never seen her like this before. "But for those of you who are not aware, the dark wizard known as Korvac escaped from Azkaban a few months ago." The hall exploded into murmurs at the mention. You saw Professor Strange lock his jaw, probably disagreeing that such a topic should be broached with eleven-year-olds. "After much consideration, the Ministry of Magic thought it best to apply additional security to the castles."

"So, starting next week, we will have special guests at the Hogwarts castles; The ministry has determined that aurors and Azkaban guards will be guarding the outside of the grounds."

The crowd erupted in boos as soon as the words echoed in the hall. Your Hufflepuff colleagues remarked in horror that the dementors, the guards of Azkaban, were terrifying, and you sought your brother's gaze at the Slytherin table, but he was looking earnestly at the principal.

Agatha sighed impatiently, and the hall fell silent. She asked everyone to be careful with the guards in Azkaban, not to give them reason to fight back. And then she returned to the daily announcements as if nothing had happened.

You didn't eat very well after that.

History of Magic with Professor Okoye was one of the hardest classes in school.

You were hoping to get decent grades this year, but you were assigned to be with Peter as your pair, so you knew you would have to work for two, as your friend had no interest at all in that subject.

"Why don't you try to pay attention?" You asked slightly annoyed as you made your notes. Quill was drawing small dragons in his notebook.

"I want to be a famous Quidditch player, I don't need to know the history of the Goblin revolution for that."

You sighed, turning your attention back to the blackboard. Several minutes after class had begun, a Gryffindor student raised his hand.

"Professor Okoye, may I ask you a question?" it was Thor Odinson, and he seemed to have grown at least twenty inches over the summer. You noted that his hair was also longer when you looked back, wondering who was speaking.

"Of course, Odinson." The teacher said with a gentle smile. Thor cleared his throat as he lowered his hand, seeming to hesitate.

"Could you tell us about the Mephisto followers?"

The room fell absolutely silent at the mention of the name, and many students looked at Thor with wide eyes. The smile on Professor Okoye's face completely disappeared.

"Where did you hear that name, boy?" she asked sternly, Thor swallowed dryly.

"M-my father, ma'am." He replied. "I heard him send a bawler to the ministry quoting that name. When I asked, he told me to study the history of the wizarding world. I thought I would ask you because I couldn't find anything in the books."

The room looked at the teacher expectantly. Okoye sighed, seeming to decide whether to talk about it or not.

"Listen to me carefully please." She asked as she walked around the tables. "Some years ago long before any of you were born, there was a sorcerer who made all the wrong choices. He sought immeasurable power, and was never satisfied with his own abilities. And many other wizards believed that the quest for ultimate power was something worth dying for. When this wizard became a symbol of power and cruelty, he named himself Mephisto."

Her classmates exchanged startled looks, but the teacher continued to tell.

"The dark wizards and witches who supported this quest became known as the Followers of Mephisto, or Walkers of Death. The magical ministries around the world banded together to put an end to the group, and there was a great battle, where most of these wizards were imprisoned or killed in a duel."

"What happened to Mephisto?" Thor asks suddenly, interrupting the narration. The teacher hesitates, but then gives a reassuring smile.

"He's dead, of course." She assures.

"My mother says he was never found." Added another classmate, you think her name is Valkyrie, but you've never talked to her. Much buzz runs through the room at her utterance, and Professor Okoye twists her fingers nervously.

"When the Walkers of Death were eliminated, Mephisto lost his power." She tells seriously. "The last person who faced him is related to someone in this room actually."

Professor Okoye turns to you, and you want to sink into your chair, feeling your heart soar.

"Auror Howard Stark was the last sorcerer to fight Mephisto before his demise. Thirteen years ago." She says and you feel all the stares on you. "But that's enough from this matter for today, students. Mephisto's story is taboo in our witch community because of the thousands of lives that were lost during that period." She adds, "I hope you will be respectful about the memory of those victims, and not comment on such a thing, or mention the name of this despicable wizard again."

The teacher closes the subject after that, looking upset. You can't pay attention to the class again when she goes back to talking about the magical revolution.

//-//

"Did you knew about that?" You ask angrily when Tony looks unimpressed when you approach him in the third floor hallway, after searching all over the school for him.

He looks tired.

"Stop talking so loud, will you?" He asks looking around. "Of course I knew, I've been researching this story for months."

You frown in confusion, and Tony rolls his eyes leaning against the bookshelf next to him.

"I didn't tell you anything because you're only thirteen!" He adds nervously. "That's not children's business."

"It is my business if it involves our family!". You retort angrily. A group of students walk past you, looking at you curiously, but Tony just pretends to be admiring the trophies until they leave.

"Look, I don't really know what happened, but dad used to be an auror when mom was alive." He recounts. "And then he took on this powerful sorcerer, and mom died when you were born. He became an inventor, switched departments in the mystery, and nobody talks about this Mephisto guy nowadays."

"Do you know what this has to do with the wizard who escaped from Azkaban?" you ask with your arms crossed, Tony gives a chuckle.

"Isn't it obvious, sis?" he retorts wryly. "Korvac was Mephisto's greatest ally at that time. And he escaped from the most secure prison in the world. A lot of people think that means the walkers are getting back in business again."

"My god Tony, why didn't dad tell us any of this?" You ask worriedly and Tony laughs humorlessly, looking upset.

He straightens his posture and points to the glass on the trophy shelf that was propped up.

"And there's more." He says. "Take a look at that."

You turn your face to stare at the objects that were stored there. Most were trophies, but there were also pictures of the Quidditch teams from previous years. Tony is pointing to one of those.

"No way." You whispered as you see it. In the caption on the board, it read "Howard Stark and Erik Lehnsherr receiving awards for their honorable service to the school." It was your father and your teacher, probably in their senior year, and they seemed both content. The magical photograph showed them hugging each other by the shoulders, huge smiles on their faces, and two golden cups in their hands.

"Yes, little sister." Tony said also looking at the picture. "Dad and Magneto were friends in school days. I wonder what happened to Professor Lehnsherr to make him so bitter. He looks happy in that picture."

The sound of the bell announcing the next period makes you jump in fright, as you were completely distracted by the photograph in front of you.

"Let's talk about this later, Tony, I have charms now and..."

"No way, Y/N!" Tony interrupted frowning. "That's none of your business. Dad told me that you promised to stay out of it, and I agree with him. You're too young!"

"Oh and you think he'll like knowing you're investigating this whole story?" You retort and Tony sighs, looking away, "That's what I thought.

"I'm not going to get you mixed up in this story."

"Fine, I'll find out on my own, then."

"Y/n..."

"See you, Tony."

//-//

Having dementors in the castle is really scary.

It's been two weeks since classes started, and with the first Quidditch game of the year approaching, you're pretty anxious.

You didn't make much progress in your research during those days. None of the professors wanted to say anything about Mephisto's time, and you lost fifteen points when you tried to ask Professor Lehnsherr about his school days, for being a snoozer.

The only things you found out other than what Tony told you were what Gamora and Nebula shared with you. They mentioned that Thanos was particularly busy during the summer, and that they had never seen him go to the Ministry so often before.

You also started reading the Daily Prophet, and every day they would publish something about Korvac's escape, even if it was only to say that there was no news in the case.

When the day of the first match arrived, you ignored the strange feeling that settled on the edge of your stomach as if something bad was going to happen.

You are overjoyed when you are in the air, waiting for the match to start, and notice that all of Tony's friends, including yourself, have yellow flags in their hands to cheer you on.

Everything goes well until the end of the first half.

You noticed a bludger almost reaching your chaser team mate, Clint Barton and moved forward to defend him many meters above the stadium. Because it was raining, your visibility was very poor. You knocked the ball away, but lost sight of Clint, although you heard him shout a thank you. As you dived down again, lightning exploded beside you, and you jumped in fright, feeling your ear whistle as you became completely disoriented.

As you began to get used to your surroundings again, you felt your body become completely tense. The cloud in front of you was almost a face shape, it looked like someone with horns or maybe wearing a tiara. The image dissolved in the next second, and you felt a strange chill run through your body. Releasing the broom handle only to hug your arms, you looked down, the whole team many meters away.

When you tried to join them, something came in your way.

Dementors must have been the scariest thing you had ever seen in your life. And there was one of them right in front of you. You widened your eyes in shock, and the creature looked straight at you.

Losing your strength quickly, you felt yourself slipping off the broom. A feeling as if you had been wrapped in a very painful spell overtook your body as you fell.

//-//

You woke up in a jolt, and warm hands pushed you back into bed.

"Relax, kid." Your brother spoke with a smile. "I swear I'll actually forbid you to play at some point."

"What happened?" you asked confused. All of your friends and Tony's friends around your bed.

"You fell off the broom, damn it." He retorted and you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah but there was a dementor up there..."

"Yeah, everyone saw it." Tony interrupted looking annoyed. "Professor Harkness kicked everyone out of the stadium after Professor Strange conjured up the patronus."

"I have never seen Professor Strange so angry." Gamora remarked next.

"Oh, there's something else." Natasha warned moving around the crowd to stand beside you on the bed. "Your broom fell into the Whomping Willow, and well. It' s right here."

In Nat's arms were the remains of what had once been your Nimbus 2000. You sighed in displeasure, but at least you could ask Jarvis to buy you another one.

After you were released from the nurse's office, Principal Harkness was waiting for you in the hallway. She waved for all your other colleagues to go their ways, as she escorted you to the Hufflepuff common room.

"Tell me, dear, are you feeling all right?" She asked tenderly. You nodded in agreement as you walked.

When you reached an empty hallway, she stopped walking, and touched your shoulder so that you would do the same. She knelt at your height and looked deep into your eyes.

"Tell me what you saw up there."

" Professor, I don't remember..." You started to say, but then fell silent, immediately recalling what you saw as you gaze the purple glow in front of you. It was as if your thoughts came out of your lips before you even thought to say them. "I saw an image in the clouds, it was like a horned creature or someone wearing a crown. Then the dementor reached me and I felt an immediate chill and unhappiness. I had the feeling that I was wrapped in a sensation of pain as I fell down."

The professor seemed to absorb every one of your words. She smiled then, her eyes returning to their normal color quickly, making you believe you had imagined the whole thing.

"Thank you dear." She said. "Let's keep this between us, okay?"

When you two walked back, you didn't remember any conversation at all.

//-//

Your first trip to Hogsmeade is amazing.

You buy two bags full of candy at the Honeydukes, and then you and your friends go to the Three Broomsticks, to have some buttery beer.

Quill seems to have become friends with Pietro Maximoff during Quidditch practice, because as soon as they see each other, they greet with a hug.

You ignore the feeling of nervousness that settles on the pit of your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's.

Your friends don't mind sharing a table with the Maximoff twins, and that's how you end up sitting a few feet from Wanda, Gamora's watchful eye on you trying to understand why you're so quiet and flushed.

"Everyone is so nervous about the dementors at the castle, that I think we should try to do something fun. Like throw a party." Quill suggested to the group. Mantis looked excited.

"I think we could do something before Christmas." Gamora suggested and the group agreed.

"Does anyone have any idea where we can have this party? Quill asked." Since we are from different houses, maybe the common rooms are not a good option. I heard that the Slytherin kids don't really like the Hufflepuffs.”

Quill's teasing makes Wanda roll her eyes, but the rest of the table giggles. You look away to your cup.

"We could use some empty room on the seventh floor." Pietro suggested, and Quill gave an excited exclamation.

"This is a great idea." He said. "If the older students are going to participate, we can get some prefect to cover for us."

Quil looks at you and Mantis has to poke your shoulder for you to notice and pay attention.

"Sorry, what is it?" You ask when you notice all the looks on you.

"Can't you convince Steve Rogers to join us? He's your brother's boyfriend."

You laugh, nodding in agreement

"Okay folks, I'll try to call them all."

On the way back to the castle, after you spent the afternoon talking about the most diverse random subjects and telling jokes, you leave your hands in your pocket, because it is very cold.

Quill and Pietro start playing tag, and Wanda walks alone. You hurry up to join her.

"Hey." You greet with a smile, Wanda also has her hands in her pockets.

"Hey". She responds kindly.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes?"

"Are you asking me?" You say back with humor and Wanda laughs, looking at the floor as she walks. "I… I thought it was cool this afternoon." You confess the next moment, feeling your face get hot. "With everyone together, I say. And you and your brother, it's ... you two are nice."

"Thank you, Stark." She replies with a smile. You move your fingers inside your pocket before you speak again.

"If we're going to be friends, you can use my first name". You say and Wanda looks at you, but you keep looking forward.

"Are you sure?" She asks after a moment. You frown without understanding. "Are you sure you want to be my friend?"

You look at Wanda in surprise. But then your expression softens.

"I thought we were going to be friends last year, but you looked angry every time you saw me."

Wanda laughed lightly, looking ahead.

"Yeah, I… I'm sorry about that." She says. "It wasn't something you did. It was just a few things I heard. And I ended up thinking that you were judging me like everyone else at that school." She tells you. "It would make sense since you saw me face the troll." Wanda whispered the last part. You bit your bottom lip before speaking again.

"You could have talked to me, you know?" You say. "I kept thinking that I had done something wrong."

Wanda said nothing, and you sighed, running your hands through your hair.

"We can forget about it and be friends now, what do you think?" You then suggested a smile on your face.

Wanda looked at you, and her green eyes cause something in your stomach to sink.

"I would like that."

"Cool." You comment breathlessly.

//-//

Being friends with Wanda is so natural that it almost surprises you.

Now whenever you sit down at the Slytherin table, there are two new members in your group of friends.

Eventually you discover that it was Quidditch that build Quill and Pietro friendship, as they stopped fighting because they were spending a lot of time training together.

At the Slytherin table, you know that Pietro and Quill receive angry looks because they are from Gryffindor, but no one has the courage to say anything to you, perhaps it is the deadly stare that Wanda gives anyone who dares to look foully at her brother.

You also succeed in inviting Steve and Tony, in addition to your brother's other friends, to the party before Christmas. Steve says that you all can use the old Astronomy room on seventh-on Saturday, and that the curfew would be at ten o'clock. The news of the party ends up spreading quickly around the school, but your friends don't seem to mind that it stopped being something small just between you guys.

When the day finally comes, you wear a comfortable jeans and sweatshirt set, realizing that it is a choice of clothes much more similar to Muggle-borns than pureblood but no one seems to care.

"Hey, you took so long" remarked Gamora as soon as you went up to the seventh floor and met her at the door of the room. "Come on, everyone is already in there"

As you took some of the non-alcoholic fruit drink that Mantis helped Quill make, you looked around the room. You waved sheepishly when your eyes met Wanda's, who was coming in. She looks very beautiful in her wine red sweater, and she smiled at you, and you didn't understand why you felt your stomach flip.

Soon everyone were all together, talking animatedly on various subjects. When Quill and Pietro started doing a dance competition, you laughed so hard that your belly was aching when they were done.

//-//

You have your first Divination class that week.

Professor Heimdall was already waiting for the students while he was sitting on a kind of ivory throne in the corner of the room, which smelled of incense that made your head spin slightly. It really was a remarkably mystical and mysterious environment, even for a magic school. The illumination was limited due to long white curtains on the walls, and there were many candles scattered around the room. Mantis whispered that this kind of thing was done to increase concentration when working with this kind of magic.

"Welcome to our first meeting on Divination, students, the most complex and unstable of magical arts." began the professor as soon as everyone was seated at the tables spread around the tower. "I must warn you that if you seek answers to your most personal questions here, you will most likely not find them. There is no stability in this subject."

Some students commented softly among themselves, but no one seemed willing to contradict the professor, his yellow eyes roaming over everyone in the room.

"Let's begin today's class with an introduction to the basics of study in divination." He warns, and with a flick of his wand, the cupboards at the back of the room open, and from there several sets of cups fly out to all the tables. Then the professor touches his wand to the teapot on the table, and it multiplies into four pairs, flying around to serve everyone.

When everyone has their cups full, Professor Heimdall goes to the small blackboard, and begins to explain how divination works. You hurry to start writing it down.

Many minutes later, when you have finished your tea, Mantis pokes your shoulder.

"Let me look at yours and you do mine?" she asks and you nod, handing her your cup. You clear your throat, looking intently at the dregs of tea in Mantis' cup.

"I don't see anything." You grumble, trying to concentrate. The powder doesn't seem to form anything.

"Remember to check the symbols in your books." Warned Professor Heimdall aloud the next moment. You took a deep breath, running your fingers across the paper as you tried to identify the images.

"Mantis, let's switch, I don't think I'm getting anything..." You start to say softly looking at your book, when you glance at your friend however, you frown in confusion. She has her gaze glazed on your cup, one hand covering her mouth, "Mantis, what happened?"

She gasps softly, and you straighten your position as you notice a thick tear running down her cheek, feeling your heart soar with worry.

"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sighs breathlessly, dropping her cup on the table. The noise attracts everyone's attention, but Mantis is getting up the next moment, and running out of the room. You stand up, but Professor Heimdall puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, miss Stark." He says. "It's common for those more sensitive to divination to have that kind of reaction in their first contact with the spirit world." He explains with a tender look. You don't understand why, but his voice calms you. "Go back to your activity, I will talk to your friend."

He waves to the rest of the room next, and then leaves. You sit back down, exchanging worried glances with Gamora and Nebula who are at the table in front of you.

Your first action is to look at the cup that Mantis has thrown on the table, but the impact has broken it at the bottom, and the liquid has run down the cloth. You sigh in dissatisfaction, using your wand to clean up the mess.

When class is over, Gamora and Nebula quickly join you.

"Any idea what that was about?" Gamora asks as you walk together through the castle.

"No, she just got a glazed look in her eyes, and then she ran off." You count. "I'll try to ask her in potions class."

"Maybe she saw some evil omen." Nebula comments, and Gamora elbows her in the stomach. "Ouch."

You frown worriedly.

"Does that mean something bad is going to happen to me?"

Gamora denies with her head, forcing a smile as if trying to reassure you.

"Bad omens can be many things, even something silly, like losing a sock in your room." She says and you leave your hands in your pockets, not feeling reassured by this information.

"Yeah, but Mantis wouldn't cry over a sock." You retort and Nebula nods in agreement, but Gamora has a serious expression.

"I'd rather think it's nothing bad." She says. "Professor Heimdall said it's normal for sensitive students to have that reaction, isn't it?" She adds and you shrug. "Maybe she's just been watching you lose a game or something, but she was so overwhelmed with having seen something, that she got emotional."

"I hope you're right." You grumble as you reach the stairs. You sigh. "See you at lunch, girls. Have a good History of Magic class."

Gamora and Nebula wave goodbye and head in the opposite direction from you after they watch the staircase move.

You hurry to avoid being late for potions.

//-//

Mantis doesn't come to the dungeon either. You poke Quill in the back as he sits down in front of you, and ask if he's seen her anywhere, but he shrugs, worried that you don't know either. You just sigh, telling him what happened in class.

"I'm glad I didn't take that subject." He says as he hears the story. "I've heard that some people learn to see the day that the other person is going to die. That's scary."

You laugh incredulously.

"That sounds like a lie."

Quil shrugs his shoulders. "That's what I heard."

You wish you could talk more, however Professor Erik entered the room the next moment, and everyone fell silent. You tried to forget about the divination class by concentrating on making your poison antidote correctly next.

//-//

You only found Mantis at lunchtime.

Or rather, she found you.

You had just come out of charm class, and she was waiting for you outside. You looked at her with surprise and concern, but she just smiled, looking much more relaxed than earlier.

"I'm sorry I disappeared." She says. "Professor Heimdall thought it best that I get some rest, and then he taught me some things about aural sensitivity."

"I don't know what that means." You comment making her smile.

"It doesn't matter." She says. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier."

You shake your head.

"Mantis, come on, no need to stress about it." You retort. "I was worried about you, and I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

Mantis smiles, looking forward. You bite the inside of your cheek, finding her strangely calm and distant.

"Do you remember what you saw in my cup?" You ask hesitantly, and a small glint passes through Mantis' eyes, but then she smiles quietly, denying it.

"It was no great thing, I believe." She says. "Professor Heimdall has assured me that it must have been just a bad memory, and that there is nothing to worry about."

You frown, but something in Mantis' expression tells you that she just won't talk about it anymore. Not wanting to make your friend uncomfortable, you don't press the issue again.

//-//

It's Christmas again, and you don't go home.

This year Hogwarts is much emptier than it usually is, and you know that it's because of the dementors.

The vast majority of the families, even those who usually leave their children at Hogwarts, have asked the students to return home. Your father briefly mentioned in his last letter how there were many requests for shift changes during the holiday period.

Tony also stayed in the castle, you knew he was planning to enter the forbidden section of the library, and he had told you to mind your own business when you asked if you could help.

Surprisingly, Gamora and Nebula returned home. It was very unusual because Thanos didn't like parties, but they promised to write to you. Mantis always returned home, so you just handed over your present before hugging her goodbye. Quill and the Maximoffs stayed with you.

"You know you're losing right?" you remarked with amusement as you were spending time with your friends in the Gryffindor communal room, a wizard chessboard in front of you. Quill let out an annoyed groan.

"That game is harder than it looks." He grumbled looking at the pieces. " Knight move to E3 please."

The piece moved, cursing softly that Quill was making a stupid move, and you laughed.

"Can't you see her bisbe right there you idiot? "Squinted the black item, and Quill sighed in irritation.

"You want to play by yourself, do you?" He retorted, and Pietro and Wanda who were watching you two, giggled.

"Are you talking to the game, Quill?" Pietro teased as if the boy in front of him was crazy.

After you beat Peter, it was your turn to face Pietro. He was a much better player, but he still made a lot of thoughtless moves.

Someone walked past the door, and you heard noises of footsteps, and then there was a girl joining you all.

"Hey, Monica!" Pietro greeted the girl cheerfully as soon as he saw her. The girl smiled at him. "Guys, this is Monica Rambeau, she is..."

"Professor Rambeau's daughter." Quill completes as if it is obvious. And you and Wanda smile at the girl. "Everybody knows Monica, man."

"What are you guys doing?" The girl asks curiously.

"Playing chess."

"Losing at chess, you mean right?" you tease with a smile. Pietro and Quill laugh in agreement, Wanda is distracted by the book in her hands.

"Do you want to hang out with us?" Pietro asks.

"Actually, I'm going to go outside." Monica says excitedly. "I just went in to get a coat. Darcy and I are going to make a snowman. Why don't you guys join us?"

You exchange glances with your friends. They all seem to think the same thing. And that's how you end up in the outside yards, in a snowball war.

" Back off, Pietro, I'm on your team!" You yell at the older Maximoff who has just hit you with an icy snowball to the chest. Pietro laughs.

"In war it's every man for himself!" He shouts running toward you. You laugh as you run away from him, preparing to hit Quill who is in the opposite direction.

"Hey, get down!" You heard someone shout and you turned around, obeying the order as soon as you noticed Darcy's raised arm toward you. She threw a snowball at someone behind you, and you laughed when Pietro let out an exclamation. Running toward the girl, you thanked her with a wave of your hand before running back.

After hitting Monica and Quill twice, you ran out of Pietro's reach when he appeared at your side, laughing. Stumbling, you ended up miscalculating your speed, and knocked Wanda down next.

"That's a foul." Joked Pietro as he watched you two fall, laughing along with both of you. Before he could throw a snowball at you, Quill was back and he ran. You helped Wanda up as you apologized for knocking her down.

"One point each." She says holding the snowball at chest height. You smile, and wait for her to throw the snow at you. She laughs when she has done so gently, pushing the ball against your shoulder, the icy liquid running down your blouse making you shiver slightly.

You pick up a snowball from the ground next, but when you look at Wanda, her face flushed with cold, and emerald eyes sparkling with amusement, you don't have the heart, and just smile wryly, making her look at you curiously.

"What is it?" she asks confused by the way you are just looking, making no mention of throwing the snow at her.

But the moment was broken next, when you all heard an animalistic noise nearby, and turned your heads with curiosity.

A few meters away was the guardian of the lands, Drax, leading a line of winged horses through the snow. You and your friends let out a chorus of excitement.

"Wow, look at the size of those horses." Pietro commented looking in the same direction.

"They're not horses, people!" Monica exclaimed excitedly. "They're unicorns! Mom said we were going to study them next class don't you remember?"

Only when Monica said this did you squeeze your eyes shut to get a better look, and you could see the white horns in the distance. Drax waved at you from a distance when he noticed that you all were looking. He led the horses to the area where the class on Magical Creatures was usually held, and you saw that Professor Rambeau was waiting for him.

After that, it seemed to get colder. And you all decided to go inside and have some hot chocolate, as you took your friends into the kitchens. The elves were happy to serve you sweet breads and cakes, even outside of dinner time.

//-//

On Christmas morning, all of your friends, including Tony and Natasha who was Tony's only friend to stay at Hogwarts, gathered at the same table in the main hall for the gift exchange.

"Stop fussing, boy, you'll mess up the presents!" You heard Darcy complain to Quill. She and Monica were also with you because Pietro invited them. Neither of you guys minded, because they were very nice.

"I'm just trying to get a peek." Retorted Peter raising the gift package in the air out of Darcy's reach.

"It's not your gift, so you can't look!"

You laughed at the interaction, finishing opening the package in front of you. Natasha had given you a new collection of wand care products and you loved it.

"You do need to take better care of your wand indeed." Teased Tony when he saw the gift. You laughed while waving a middle finger at him, and stood up to hug Nat in appreciation.

Most of the gifts were clothes, and candy. You bought a collection of exploding snap cards for Quill, and he was very pleased, already throwing the cards on the table to play with everyone. Pietro and Monica eventually agreed to participate, while Darcy watched them.

"That's mine right there." You said shyly to Wanda as she picked up one of the packages from the stack. "I hope you like it."

Wanda bit her lower lip in anticipation as she opened the package. And when the red scarf became visible, she fell silent, and it was your turn to be nervous.

"I know you're from Slytherin and all, but I've noticed that you really like red." You hasten to justify. "And then I saw this scarf in Hogsmeade and I remembered that day after charms class that you forgot your scarf and Pietro lent you his and so I thought it would be a good idea and..."

"I loved it." She interrupts looking at you. Her cheeks redden and a tender smile on her lips. You relax with relief immediately.

"Oh, right." You say. "Good, then."

You think you've been looking into Wanda's eyes too long, because your face is starting to heat up. But Peter gives a celebratory shout for getting the card move right, and you and Wanda look away quickly. She puts on her scarf next, and you look down at your lap to hide the silly smile that insists on escaping your lips.

//-//

When classes at Hogwarts return, the Dementors leave.

Apparently there was a big commotion in the Ministry of Magic. You hear many students commenting on this during the class break. And then there is a story in the Daily Prophet saying that Korvac was killed in combat with aurors in London, but there are also many people saying that this is a lie, and that he has run away again and the Ministry of Magic doesn't want to assume to the public.

Anyway, Headmistress Harkness removes the dementors from the castle and the atmosphere in the school improves considerably.

Nebula has a large purple mark on her left eye when she returns. Gamora tells everyone that she fell off her broomstick. You choke when she tells only you that it was Thanos who did this after he caught her snooping in his office.

"You can't tell anyone about this, okay?" She asks tearfully and you nod frantically, hugging her to calm her down. "I've never seen our father like that."

"It's okay now, Gamora." You say tightening in your embrace. "I will help you."

When you write to your father, asking what to do in a situation where the dangers are indoors, he says that Stark Mansion is big enough to accommodate your friends.

When you come home for the vacations after doing very well on your final exams, Gamora and Nebula are with you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision #wandaxreader #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #harry potter au #wanda x yn #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

340 notes · View notes

eisukevint · 3 years

Text

Always You

Eisuke Ichinomiya

This one’s for you @leoamber66 - i should be ashamed of myself for taking this long but here we are! your graduation and your birthday gift. and a massive thank you to @cupidocherie for major help bec idek where i would be without her😭😭 anyways enjoyyy, i love you <3

»»»»

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean when you tripped and almost fell in front of everyone on your first day in elementary school?”

“No! oh my god, I told you to forget that!”

“Pftt, how can anyone ever forget that? I’m sure soryu and luke remember too”

“I hope they don’t haha, but really, we’ve come so far” Yuki commented, reminiscing about one certain day.

Eisuke’s POV

“So children, today a new student will be joining us. This is Yuki Freya. I hope all of you will be nice to her and welcome her warmly!” The teacher, Miss Hale as she introduced herself, addressed the class.

“Yuki, you’re going to sit with Eisuke. Please raise your hand so she can know where you are, Eisuke!” Miss Hale announced.

The clumsy girl, Yuki, made her way over to me earning several stares from both girls and boys present in the classroom.

“Hi, i’m Yuki!” She enthusiastically said extending her hand towards me.

I shook her hand, “Eisuke”

“Nice to meet you!” She said and then turned towards the teacher as she started her lesson, not giving me a chance to reply.

At least her smile is cute.

»»»»

Yuki didn’t follow me around like the other girls in my class did. Instead, she became friends with Luke and Soryu who happened to be my best friends. They seemed to like her a lot. Now that was rare.

It was P.E. and the teacher partnered me with Yuki despite the other girls begging him to partner them up with me. I didn’t complain considering she wasn’t annoying like the others.

“Are you ready?” She asked me tying up her left leg with my right one, preparing for the three legged race. Why is this even a thing? Couldn’t we just race like normal people?

“Of course I am” Eisuke Ichinomiya is always ready.

It didn’t take long for me to come off my high horse when Yuki couldn’t keep up with my fast pace and fell down, twisting her ankle.

Yuki groaned in pain and tried to get up but failed. The P.E. teacher came forth and asked me to carry her on my back to the infirmary as a punishment which was just across the field.

“But it’s not my fault that she fell!” I retorted back despite knowing it was partly my fault she fell since I was moving too fast for her.

“She was your partner Ichinomiya, it’s your responsibility.”

“Fine” I said when I realised there was no getting out if it. With that, i asked her to get on my back and carried her to the infirmary.

As the nurse tended to her injury, she turned towards me with that same cute smile “Thank you, Eisuke”

I instantly felt a stab of guilt.

“Hmph, I didn’t do it for you” I didn’t notice the blush that crept on my cheeks but I did notice the way my heart flipped. Just as she was about to say something, Soryu and Luke came looking for her.

“Are you alright?” Luke asked to which she replied with a grin and swinging her leg back and forth.

“Never better!”

Seriously how can someone be so cute.

»»»»

high school

The murderous intent was evident in my eyes as I gazed at Yuki laughing at something the principal’s cockroach son said.

In the beginning, Frank tried to befriend me but I felt something was off and eventually it became very clear to me that he only wanted me to be a handy tool in his pocket ready for emergencies, so I shook him off pretty quickly. Somehow, Frank’s always lingering around me. He’s always loved to single me out whenever I express disinterest in something, in hopes that others would join in. Instead, the girls that fawn over me often tell him to shut up and then they’re confronted by his fangirls and in the end, it’s just a massive cat fight.

He’s nothing but trouble. As the principal’s son, he’s quite popular, almost as popular as me, and he can pretty much get away with anything. Luckily for him, he’s very sly. Hiding behind his minions, he’s never once flat out done anything. Good with underhanded remarks, letting other people take all of the blame, coercing them into doing what he wants. His little groupies pay no heed to any of this, all because he’s handsome. But there’s a large group of people who don’t like him, but nobody has ever said anything straight to his face, thanks to his feared status.

There were rumours earlier this year that on Valentine’s Day, Frank asked Yuki out but she told him that she wanted to focus on school. I’m surprised Frank didn’t get angry at her and punch a wall or something. That sounds like something he would usually do. While I’m proud of Yuki for turning him down, part of me hopes that what she said was just a lie she made up so she could just get away from him. But now, Frank and Yuki are partners on this project, I’m convinced this teacher is trying to set those two up. Soryu, who was partnered with this over-zealous girl looked as if he would smash either his own head or the girl’s if she didn’t stop with her chattering. I’ve been paired up with Luke, unfortunately I’ve been neglecting our work because keeping an eye on Yuki has become too much of a priority. I hate how he gets too close to her, the way he continues to flirt with her and the smug look that’s plastered on his face when he realises that I’m watching. All Luke can do is sigh and shake his head at me.

“I’d gladly switch with Yuki if I didn’t have to put up with him, Eisuke...”

“Hey watch out, you’ll hurt yourself!” Yuki yells, pushing him away before she yelps in pain, drawing her hand back.

For a split second, it’s like I can only see red. I march right up to their desk, in close proximity to the two only to see a red mark across Yuki’s hand. It looks painful. If Frank hadn’t been so careless then Yuki wouldn’t have gotten hurt. What were you thinking!? Why do you need to care so much about everyone else!?

“Oops, I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“No, I’ll take her.”, I sternly tell Frank. Yuki insists it’s not too big of a deal and that she’s fine.

“Hmph, alright. I’ll make it up to you another way then, Yuki.”

“You don’t need to. Stay away from my girl.” I felt Yuki tense up beside me the moment those words left my mouth. Thinking nothing of it, I took her dainty uninjured hand in my right one and pulled her along with me towards the infirmary. Yuki, being the obedient and polite girl she was followed without a hint of refusal.

Upon our arrival to the medical department of the school, the nurse immediately treated Yuki’s injury. As I gazed at the familiar scene before my eyes, a certain memory played in my head.

“What’s with you and infirmaries?” Were the words that came out of my mouth the very second the school nurse disappeared, probably went back to her office.

She whipped her head towards me, a tiny smile adorning her graceful features. Adorable giggles escaped from her mouth indicating that Yuki too was reminiscing about that particular day.

“You’re too amiable for your own good.” I chuckled, moving to sit into the chair where the nurse was not long ago and grabbing her hand with the nasty burn on it.

“How dare he ruin your precious soft skin like this” Placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, I held onto it as I stared deep into her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Is it true you rejected him?” She stared back, cocking her head a little bit to her left at the question, confusion etched on her face.

“On Valentine’s Day, I heard he confessed to you but you turned him down, saying you wanted to focus on your studies. Is that true?” Her face lit up upon remembrance but an almost gloomy expression took over right after.

“Ah...yes, now that you mention it” I squeezed her hand a little tighter but not tight to enough to hurt her as I waited for her to continue.

“That’s only half true though..”

What?

“I also told him I like someone else.”

Oh.

I immediately loosened my grip on her hand.

So that’s why. Heh, what were you even thinking Ichinomiya?

Yuki glanced over to me, fidgeting in her seat with nervousness.

“Won’t you ask who it is?” This time, she grabbed my hand and lightly tug on it preventing me from standing up, causing her to hiss in pain.

“Does it even matter?” I sighed, patting her hand lightly with that flicker of hope in my heart slowly diminishing. As I was about to get on my feet a second time, she said those words which haltered my every movement, completely catching me off guard. Words i’ve wanted to hear for the longest time now from a certain girl I adored more than anything.

“It’s you, Eisuke.”

Good Lord.

“It’s always been you.”

Will I survive if my heart continues to beat this fast every time i’m around her? I’ll have to ask Luke later.

“Eisuke?” Yuki peered at my astounded face snapping me out of my daze. When I look back at her, I thought I could resist just pulling her into my arms and claiming her as mine but boy, was I wrong. I immediately grabbed her chin and captured her silky lips in a somewhat soft and gentle kiss. Laying every emotion bare into our first kiss, Yuki loosely wrapped her arms around my shoulders as she kissed me back with equal passion. We parted and just sat there basking in the pleasure of being in each other’s arms until I decided to break the comfortable silence since a significant amount of time had passed and we needed to go back to the lab.

“You’re mine and I won’t allow you to leave me.” She hummed in response and with a little peck on her lips, I pulled her up with me and exited the infirmary.

Our fingers intertwined perfectly as we walked back to the class feeling oddly at peace - mind, body and soul.

»»»»

“And Soryu teased us so much when we went back to class! But no one was surprised, I mean we were kind of inseparable...” Yuki said bashfully, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The diamond of her engagement ring caught the light of the setting sun.

“It’s because they knew you were mine.” Professing my undying love for her, I place a fierce kiss on her lips imagining a bright future with my one and only,

“Always have been and always will be.”

•••

#eisuke ichinomiya #kbtbb eisuke #leo amber #eisuke x oc #eisuke x mc #soryu oh #luke foster #mamoru kishi #mitsunari baba #ota kisaki #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #voltage inc #love 365 #otome romance #otome #fic #gift

68 notes · View notes

motherjoel · 4 years

Text

get her (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: you finally get a boyfriend after pining for spencer for years, but spencer is suspicious of him

a/n: idek how i got this idea but i hope you guys like it lol. also we all know how sassy spencie gets when he’s upset afbjvbadas

wc: 2.3k

warnings/includes: some language, angst & fluff

“Someones looking chipper today,” said Emily as you walked into the bullpen with a smile on your face.

“What, just cause we catch serial killers for a living, I can’t have a good night?” you asked and shot her a wink. This caught JJ’s attention from a desk over.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who’s the guy?” she asked, opening the files on her desk. You blushed for a moment before deciding to indulge them in the details.

“If you must know, his name is Justin and we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now,” you smiled, giggling at your friends reactions. Garcia was nearby, pouring herself a mug of coffee.

“Wait, my ears were burning. Are we talking about love?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee and leaning on your desk.

“I wouldn’t call it love, but it’s something,” you wiggled your eyebrows. Spencer and Derek entered the bullpen together, walking over to the crowd you had assembled.

“Woah, how come I wasn’t invited to the party?” Derek asked, setting his bag down at his desk and joining the rest of you. Spencer lingered near your desk, curious about the gathering as well.

“Well, Y/N here has a special someone…” Emily said, raising her eyebrows. You didn’t notice Spencer visibly deflate from beside you, but JJ did. Spencer had confided in her about the crush he had on you- he never planned to act on it, but now that he knew you were taken, he regretted keeping it to himself. Spencer was almost thankful when Hotch left his office to announce a case. He didn’t want to hear the “dirty details” (as Garcia called them) with this Justin guy. What kind of name is that, anyway, he thought. Everyone stood up to make their way to the conference room before Hotch stopped them.

“A child was declared missing after her family was killed. Time is of the essence, we will debrief on the plane,” he said. Everyone grabbed their go bags and you shot a quick text to Justin, letting him know you wouldn’t be home for a few days. Spencer noticed you smiling at your phone and looked away, trying his best to ignore it.

After debriefing, everyone was scattered throughout the jet to go over their files and come up with theories. You normally sat with Spencer- he was your best friend in the office- so you made your way to the seat across from him. Although he was your best friend, you hadn’t mentioned Justin to him before today. You’d had feelings for Spencer when you joined the team, but you never thought he would feel the same way so you did your best to move past said feelings. They still lingered, however, when you fell asleep basically on top of each other on many jet rides home, or when he would bring you your favorite coffee on fridays. You decided that the best thing to do was to get in a relationship, which you did. Spencer didn’t look up when you sat across from him on the jet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him before,” you said, feeling bad that you kept a relationship from your best friend.

“Hm? Who?” Spencer asked, feigning cluelessness.

“Justin, my-uh, my boyfriend,” you said. Spencer tensed.

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anything,” he shrugged and looked back down at his files. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but he was acting weird.

“I know, I just feel like… you’re my best friend, and I should have told you about him,” you said, suddenly feeling foolish. Your use of “best friend” seemed to warm Spencer up.

“Really, Y/N. It’s fine, as long as you’re happy,” he said with a soft smile. You nodded and silently opened the manila folder, returning focus to the missing girl.

You had been working the case nonstop for hours without any leads, and you were feeling hopeless. After a long time of staring blankly at an evidence board, you excused yourself to call your boyfriend. Once you stepped outside, you hit call, only to be sent straight to voicemail. That’s weird you thought. You didn't want to bother him if he was busy, so you sent him a text.

hey, it’s a pretty rough case and I just wanted to call and talk to you. call me when you get the chance <3

You hit send and walked back inside, visibly deflated. Spencer took notice of your disappointed slouch, but remained focused on the profile, as did you. A call from Garcia came in after you had all been sitting in a stumped silence for a good 20 minutes.

“Guys, there was a little girl who just called the police, she claimed to be Sammie Smith,” said Garcia, voice laced with concern.

“Were you able to triangulate the call?” asked Hotch.

“Unfortunately no, but let me play it for you. It sounds like there's some sort of train in the background,” Garcia said, proceeding to play the audio. You all listened intently.

“Spence, how many trains go through the geographic profile?” you asked, walking over to the map Spencer was looking at and leaning down next to him, unintentionally pressing your chest to the side of his arm.

“Um, just one, but the unsub could be keeping her anywhere along the tracks,” Spencer said, ignoring the feeling of your warmth.

“Garcia, can you play it again,” asked Prentiss, leaning on the table.

“Sure thing.” You all listened intently.

“It sounds like the train stops during the recording- maybe she’s being kept near the station? Garcia, what’s the address of Sammie’s uncle?” you asked, thinking about a possible lead.

“Let me see… it’s 327 Lavender Road… which is a block from one of the train stations in the geographic profile,” she said urgently.

“Thanks Garcia,” Prentiss said as you all raced out of the conference room and into your SUVs.

The case was successful- or about as successful as catching a serial killer could be. You had saved Sammie’s life and she had an aunt across the country who would care for her. As you all piled onto the jet, you checked your phone again for a text from Justin. Nothing. You sat with Spencer on the couch, taking a deep sigh.

“He still hasn’t texted you back?” Spencer asked, looking between you and your phone.

“How did you know?” you asked, shoving your phone into your pocket.

“Well, you left the conference room yesterday and you came back discouraged, and you’ve been constantly checking your phone since then. Basic profiling,” he said, pulling a book out of his bag.

“Hey, whatever happened to the moratorium on profiling each other,” you said with a raised eyebrow. Spencer shrugged.

“I don’t know, I was just skeptical of this Justin guy. I mean, maybe there was a reason you didn’t tell any of us about him until now,” he said nonchalantly. You felt a little sting.

“Spencer, don’t you think that’s a little presumptuous? I mean, you didn’t tell any of us about Maeve,” you said. Spencer snapped his eyes back up to you. You felt bad bringing up his old scars but you needed to defend yourself.

“What’s this got to do with Maeve? At least she returned my calls,” he said, more angry than before.

“Spencer, why are you being like this?” you asked, getting the attention from the other team members now.

“Why am I being like this? I wasn’t the one who took a break from our job to call a boyfriend that won't even call me back,” he snapped. His eyes widened a little when he realized what he had just said. He had hurt your feelings. You stood up, tears brimming in your eyes. “Y/N, wait-” he started.

“No, I get it. I’m just gonna sit over there,” you said, grabbing your things and moving to the opposite end of the jet next to Emily. Spencer watched you walk away and he had never felt more guilty. He looked at Morgan who was sitting nearby and witnessed the whole fight.

“What do you have against Y/N dating?” Morgan asked, moving to sit next to Spencer. He seemed to already know the answer.

“Don’t make me say it,” Spencer put his head in his hands. Morgan clapped his shoulder, laughing lightly.

“Reid, we’ve all seen you two together. You guys cuddle on the jet home after cases. Cuddle. Spencer ‘I don’t shake hands’ Reid is tangled up with a girl he doesn’t even call his girlfriend,” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“She has a boyfriend Morgan. I’m in love with her and she’s-she’s taken,” Reid said, more quietly now. Derek widened his eyes.

“Damn, this ain’t no puppy love then. You’re in love with her?” he asked, taking on a more concerned tone. Spencer nodded his head, resting his chin on his hand and looking at you, trying to get some sleep in the uncomfortable chair. You probably would’ve slept better next to him.

“Then you gotta get her,” Morgan said before standing up and walking back to his original seat, putting headphones on. Spencer thought about what Derek had said, but decided that he would wait a bit. He wasn’t the type to just “get her.” With one last look at you shifting in your sleep, Spencer opened his book and tried to read, being only plagued with thoughts of you the entire ride home.

You exited the jet even more tired than you were before, if it was possible. After fighting with Spencer, you just wanted to see Justin. You wanted to prove to yourself that he was real, that he was a good guy. So, the second you got back to the office, you hopped onto the metro and took the train to his apartment, saying quick goodbyes to most of the team. Spencer not included. You walked up to his door and gave a knock, which was met without a reply. You tried again before wiggling his doorknob a bit. It was unlocked, which was odd for him. You began to worry a bit, so you decided to go inside and check it out. Your gun was drawn, just a precaution, when you heard screaming coming from his bedroom. You ran quickly to his room before bursting inside, pointing your gun at the source of the noise. Or, sources.

He was on his bed, presumably naked, under the sheets. Next to him was a woman you didn’t recognize, similarly naked. You opened your mouth in shock, slowly lowering your gun.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my text,” you said, still in a state of shock.

“Y/N, I-” Justin began.

“Nope. Nuh uh, I’m good, I’m… I’m gonna go,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. As you stormed out of the apartment building, you walked and walked until you had finally stopped crying. You felt so stupid. And you were lost. With a sigh, you pulled out your phone and called the first number that came to mind.

“Hey, uh I’m lost and… can you pick me up?” you asked, sniffling a bit.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way,” Spencer said before hanging up. You sat down on the sidewalk and sent him your location. He lived nearby, so it only took a few minutes for him to arrive. Once he saw you, he stopped his car and got out, sitting next to you on the ground. You sniffled back a few tears.

“I found out why he wasn’t answering my calls,” you said, fiddling with a pebble you found on the ground. Spencer looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “Turns out I wasn’t the only woman he was fucking,” you said, standing up angrily. Spencer winced at your harsh language. You started to cry again, this time from anger. “But I’m okay!” you said pacing for a bit.

“Don’t lie to me,” Spencer said, watching you warily.

“I mean, god! How could I be so stupid to think I had finally found someone?” you asked angrily, repeatedly kicking a lamp post.

“Y/N…” Spencer stood up and walked over to you.

“No, I’m an idiot!” you yelled, angry tears streaming down your face. Kick, kick kick. When kicking wasn’t enough to satisfy you, your fists began to bang on it repeatedly. Poor lamp post.

“Y/N stop!” Spencer said, trying to grab your fists. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said, gently grabbing your wrists and turning you to face him. You took one look at his face and collapsed into his embrace, both of you sinking to the ground as he held you and shushed you, whispering confirmations in your ear. “Just breathe, breathe,” he said softly, stroking your back. Once you had calmed down, he spoke again. “Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did, looking up at his sympathetic face. “You deserve someone who values you,” he said softly.

“Like who?” you looked down at your entwined hands, heart drumming against your chest.

“Like… like me,” he confessed, eyes flickering down to your lips. You slowly removed your hands from his and put them on the sides of his face, gazing into his sparkling eyes.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said softly. As if to prove his point, Spencer leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, tasting your salty tears. You pulled away after a moment, savoring the way he tasted.

“You deserve everything,” Spencer said before kissing you on the forehead. You giggled and pulled him in by his tie, slamming your lips together again, this time with more intensity. He was surprised at first, but his hands quickly found their way into your hair as he moved in synchronicity with you, eventually pulling away for air.

“I love you Y/N, I always have,” he said, breathlessly.

“I love you too, Spencer Reid.”

taglist: @rigatonireid, @yesimaunicorn, @aworldoffandoms

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/oc #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner

619 notes · View notes

ri-ahhh · 3 years

Note

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

#here I go again with yet another friends to lovers lmao #dolan twins #Grayson Dolan #blurb #g blurb

161 notes · View notes

danddymaro · 3 years

Text

Thankfulness | Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader

Aftermath of the final battle with DIO

Angsty, but ends well

Romance? Perhaps more friendmance?? (IDEK lol)

Flashbacks are in italics : Example

Thoughts are italics in quotes : ‘Example’

Word count : 2299

Thankfulness

Her (e/c) colored eyes blankly dropped down to the thin layer of blankets covering her lap, and all the while, the deep (e/c) colored hues were dimmed, holding a much duskier tone than they had possessed just a few days ago.

Her bottom lip trembled before it was caged between her two rows of teeth, the woman keeping it crushed between the pair of sharp edges before she swallowed down a horridly tart taste that was very faint, yet familiar.

As the fine ends of her teeth began to dig into the flesh of her lip furthermore she could taste a hint of metal, and she was so close to having it splash into her mouth that she could feel her stomach clench, twisting and turning as it spun to retch the contents back up as soon as it traveled down.

'Blood...' She inwardly thought to herself, holding spite to even the word itself.

Her right hand trembled as she fisted it over the sheets until the material on her lap was wound in a tight ball, and soon after, harsh pants resonated from her as she tried to calm herself down.

'Blood...All of their blood...' She inwardly rambled, trying to rid herself of the thought.

Whereas silence would bring any other person calm, it only brought her more distress, her entire body raking with shutters as she tried to calm the voices in her head, the very ones that were so familiar and precious, it brought her actual pain.

'Did...Did we really win?' she asked herself, struck by a reality that felt as though it'd been basked by defeat.

' because It doesn't feel like it.' She then added, slowly hanging her head, a small, almost inaudible sound that was akin to a croak escaping her parted lips.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As his eyes fell onto her, he dropped the small flower arrangement, quickly making it to her bedside in a single leap, his eyes brightened by the sight of her finally conscious.

The man had waited what felt like an agonizingly long eternity to finally meet her again, and now that she was fully there, he could drop his shoulders down in relief,

" Thank goo-" he began to speak, but she cut him off quickly,

"- Who do you think you are? ," she said lowly, her voice sharp and seething, making his heart still as she used the tart tone with him, because rarely had he ever heard her speak with such venom.

She had been smiles and cheers, perhaps a clever tongue here and there, but it wasn't anything he really took to heart, and in the end, always found enjoyment in.

- But then again, that was all before their final battle in Cairo.

"Mon Cherie…" he said softly, going to capture her hand when he stopped entirely, regretting doing so.

An action that was always welcomed with a sweet, appreciative smile was abruptly stopped, and it was all because he simply couldn't continue.

It was impossible to.

Retracting his own hand, he fisted it instead, keeping it close to his side as his face morphed into a hard etched grimace, one that was of regret.

"Go on right ahead," she invited him, looking up at him with wet (e/c) eyes, and for just a moment, the sizzling boil she felt calmed to show him more pain than rage,

"why don't you take a hold of it?" She asked him, using the same, soft, delicate voice that quivered, urging him to answer in spite of already knowing why he held back, already aware of the factor stopping him.

With guilt written over his face, he strayed his eyes from her for a moment, uttering once again the endearment, "Mon Cherie ...I…"

"You should have left me there," she breathed, her good hand falling over the side of her shoulder, gliding down to feel it mostly flat, a small bump which was all that was left over from her limb being the only thing there for her to find.

" You should have let him take all of me," She then added, desperately trying to hold back tears, because she knew that once they fell, there would be no stopping them.

'Why did you risk yourself for me?' She asked herself, 'Why did you even bother?'

All the beautiful words he could utter to her would be nothing in comparison to the pain that would consume everything until her heart became a bitter black, and by that point, they both knew it.

But even then, he continued,

"I'm glad you're alright," He said to her, and at that, she choked.

"I should be dead!" She said in a strangled tone, "I miss the point of it all!" She added, closing her eyes tightly, and it damned her to feel the limb there, when she knew that in reality, it was nothing but a ghost now, existing only in her mind.

'I don't have an arm,' She thought to herself, but that was the least of her grievances,

'I don't have Avdol.

I don't have Iggy.

I don't have kakyoin here either.

They're all gone...but I'm still here...' She lamented, knowing that by that point, they were also just ghosts, exiting in her head, haunting her every thought.

'Why...?' She asked herself, soon muttering the word in a breathy state, "Why?" She then asked the silver-haired male.

"I'm missing the point of me still being here!" She heaved, "why am I still here when they aren't?" She asked him, wanting to know just how she, of the handful, was one of the lucky ones out.

' Kakyoin was smarter...,

Avdol was much stronger…

Iggy was braver, a million times more than I am!'

"- I froze! " She reminded the French male, " I could barely move...but I was the lucky one out?" She asked him, and as he watched her, his gaze slowly fell, his blue eyes filling with misery, because he couldn't console her when all throughout the events that occurred afterward, he wondered the same thing.

'It's a pain we'll all bear,' He silently spoke, 'not just you and I...but Mr. Joestar, as well as Jotaro.' he continued on, only finding one single certainty within all the doubt and pain that came from barely scraping by the battle.

"My luck wasn't to make it alive..." He started, "It wasn't to make it out alone," He told her.

"It was to somehow have made it out alive... with you in my arms," He revealed to her, remembering that after the battle with Ice it was his one solace.

"It was to be able to make it out, only because I didn't want to lose you.

-Because I didn't want their sacrifices to go in vain." he added with a voice that wavered, holding a truth that was unmoved.

Even with a dark cloud raining over her, washing away all of her former illuminances, he couldn't look away from her. He spoke to her the only way he could, by looking directly at her, silently thanking the world for giving him the opportunity to do so.

'Even with all this pain...

Even with the dimness in your eyes at this very moment...

Even if right now you feel resentment towards me...

You're still so beautiful. You still hold my heart.'

"I'm glad you're here," he assured her, bending down to pick up the fallen blossoms, the beautiful colors of the batch reminding him of their travel.

'The red reminds me of a comforting glow.' he thought while his eyes immediately gravitated to the most passionate color that was in the collection, looking down at it with fondness.

'It's of his flames.

it's of the ones he'd share with us to keep us warm.

it's of all the protection he provided, right until he last selfless moment.' he reflected upon as his body memorized the comforting warmness.

'And this flower here is the same mix of blue and violet, reminding me of loneliness that fades,' he added while thinking of the younger he'd traveled with, realizing that it was almost the same color as his eyes.

'It's of friendship I never thought I could attain,' he went on, musing at the thought of befriending such a young brat, one so different from him.

' And the thorns that protect this flower are mature, they're hidden beneath the young blossoms, underestimated and burrowed, but always there, hidden cleverly.

Sometimes they are a hassle, but after all this, I don't think I will ever find it in me to remove them,' He thought with amusement, his heart filled with comfort while knowing that the thorny vines of their group remained just as vivacious as ever.

'And then there is this stubborn little shit,' He mused while looking down at a particular, little, yellow flower. Most of its petals were slightly withered, one even torn.

'I don't know how you made the final cut, but you did,'��he wordlessly spoke to it, 'You really did fit in,' He then added, for just a moment, his thoughts straying to the expressly annoying beast that had traveled with them.

'Stupid dog,' he thought with fondness.

A black band snugly held the stems together, elegantly tied into a little bow, and he thought about the man that helped him pick it out,

"This one's nice," Kujo commented, his index and middle caressing the silken material between the spaces of the fingers.

"Black?" Polnareff said with skepticism, staring at the ribbon with hesitance, "you really think it fits? I mean... it's such a morbid color," He questioned the younger, finishing off with a grumble.

"...For a bouquet nonetheless," he added, having wanted to give something lovely to the woman, desiring to decorate the room with the various fragrances and colors to liven up the quiet space for when she woke.

'For this situation,' he went on, silently speaking as he watched Jotaro quietly marvel at the ribbon.

His sea colored eyes had dimmed, and for the time being, he looked like he wasn't really there, at least, not in mind.

"...I like it." Kujo repeated, breathing out the words in a flat state before he let a low, blue sigh leave him, one that temporarily washed away the grim thoughts.

"She'll like it," He then added, fully aware it was a color she liked, and much more, would more than likely be something she’d use to accessorize.

'She'll put it in her hair.

Or She'll wrap it around her neck in a little bow.

Or she'll just put it somewhere safe,' He thought with certainty, having discovered how much she appreciated the little things,

'If she gets a hold of one soon, she might just stick it in a book,' He then added.

"this one for sure," He concluded, willing to bet on her loving it.

'- You're missing much more than I am,' Jean-Pierre recognized, watching her sit quietly, noiselessly observing the flowers.

'Because right now... even while I'm still in mourning, I feel struck by luck, just a small hint of it,' He thought to himself, watching as gradually, a hint of a smile graced her gloomy features.

After the outburst, she'd seemed to calm, falling into a somber hush that soon mellowed, and he lived through every moment with her, not bothering to disrupt their peace with any words, because, after all, he understood where she came from.

Just then, the door to her room was tapped, signaling new visitors,

"Coming in," Joseph said lowly, his expression changing from neutral, to completely elated,

"Well, look who's up!" He exclaimed, shooting the female a grin, one that was wide and bright.

Slowly, her eyes went up to watch him enter, witnessing the man's grandson also following in suit.

At the very moment, her eyes met with the younger's sea green, and the action caused a small smile to find its way on his face, giving her a greeting that she took in with appreciation.

"Glad you're ok," the teen said with true relief, and even if he'd held back so much more, she could see the glow in his eyes that spoke much more than he could ever say.

‘I’m glad I didn’t lose you,’ Jotaro said in silence.

Again, she brought her eyes down where the sight of the flowers greeting her.

The little bouquet in her hand was gently held, and as she looked down at it, she watched the little blossoms capture little, fallen drops before they slid off of their petals.

'I'm not,' She corrected him, though not having the heart to tell him, because, she knew that really, he couldn't be in any better state.

'I don't think any of us really are,' She thought to herself, regretful for having attacked the silver-haired male as he'd greeted her, because she was certain he was also in pain.

By then, she'd become understanding of not only her grief but everyone else's.

"Me too," She then told them, not wanting to take for granted the chance she got, much more not willing to make the sacrifices that went in play go in vain.

'I won't do that to you guys,' She thought with certainty. ' I won't do that to any of us.'

"Thank you." She said with gratitude.

'Thank you all...' She added with a loving smile, the gratitude dedicated for everyone in the room, which included the ones there in body, as well as those who now traveled in their hearts.

She then found herself looking right at the blue-eyed male, her gaze especially sweet as it touched him, knowing that if there was one person she really had to thank, and it was him.

'I think...I’m really glad to be here, because of all of you.'

64 notes · View notes

katie-writes24 · 3 years

Text

Say It Don’t Spray It

Pairing: John Laurens x reader

Warnings: Language, alcohol, suggestive material, FUCK TON OF ANGST KIDS, kinda sad, John doesn’t know when to shut up :,)

Part 2

Request: hey! my request was a laurens x reader where they're frenemies, n one day they get into this huge fight that stems from nothing, angst angst angst, and then he comes to her house to apologize. they simultaneously realize they have feelings for one another, and fluff fluff fluff...idek know after that lol - @notebookgirl30

Okay....WAYYYY OVERDUE I TOTALLY APOLOGIZE! Ngl this was a bit of a struggle to write because I just wanted to get a good feel of their “relationship/friendship” but I think I got it. Maybe? But I built a bigger storyline than expected so there’ll be a part 2. But yeah, hope you enjoy! Thank you @tinywhim for the title (you’re a real one, you don’t even know). Let me know if you want to be tagged! Leave me some feedback PLEASE!! And yeah! Enjoy!

“Has anyone ever told you you’re super boring?”

Y/N scoffed, “I’ve always loved your compliments, Angelica.”

She rolled her eyes, giving her coworker an exaggerated look. “You have nothing better to do on a Friday night. Normal people go out, and party and have fun! It’s the weekend, Y/N, you don’t have to worry about anything!”

That was an overstatement. Y/N actually did have lots to do, like finish her report and pay her bills and visit her parents and do actual adult things. Her partying days were over in college, and she knew that nothing good could come from a night surrounded by all of Angelica’s friends, some who happen to be their coworkers.

This was different though, in a way. Yes, it was Angelica’s birthday, but she was never good at social interaction, especially not at a club. These days she’ll go out with the Schuyler’s for a couple of drinks and go home and call it a day. That was enough for her, and she was okay with it. She was perfectly fine with her own friends telling her how she’s a buzzkill when it comes to partying. She was fine with not putting herself out there to guys because she didn’t think it was necessary right now.

She was comfortable at this point in her life, and she wasn’t going to ruin that over a drunken night at the club.

“Aren’t you two like best friends? You’re gonna miss your best friend’s birthday party?” Y/N turned to find John tutting in mock disapproval, swaying slightly on his chair.

“Will you butt out?” Y/N glared hard but it didn’t have the proper effect when he only laughed.

That’s the other problem. John is going to be there, which could only mean chaos. She’s been to enough office parties over the last two years to notice that he can’t hold his liquor and is incredibly loud. Not only were his obnoxious traits an issue, but there was something about him that got under her skin, not totally in a good way.

Eliza would never make her forget her little crush that sparked at the beginning of her job, when John was always nice to her and would give her this blinding smile. That sailed long ago, but apparently, a drunken night full of shared secrets was enough for the Schuyler to remember. Now, maybe there were some things that Y/N could pick out to prove to herself that he was an actual decent human being, but the John Laurens that had been sitting beside her for years was still John Laurens.

“I’m sitting three feet away from you,” He gestured at their desks that were only separated by a couple of inches. “I can literally hear everything you��re saying.”

“And he’s right!” Angelica reached over her desk and grabbed her hand. “It wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there. Please, Y/N, it’s just a couple of hours. I promise if you really get uncomfortable you can leave, but I know you won’t because it is going to be amazing!”

Rolling her eyes yet again, Y/N did feel a little guilty. Angelica has always been there for her, through all the ups and downs, she’s been her biggest support system. It wouldn’t be fair to not celebrate her birthday with her.

“Fine,” Angelica practically squealed at her grumble. “But don’t count on me as your designated driver, because I might really dip out if it gets too rowdy for me.”

“Might as well not go then. Put me and Alex together, pshhh, you’ll be walking out the door as soon as you step in.” John winked, like he just knew how to get Y/N fired up and ready to argue back. Angelica knew too, as she pulled her hands toward her again, gaining her attention.

“Ignore him, I swear we will all have a good time! Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

She looked hopeful, almost as if this was her intention all along. But Y/N knew better, no matter how many times Angelica tried to set her up, she wouldn’t invite her somewhere only to be mislead and be set on a blind date.

“I am not interested, I am perfectly capable of finding someone on my own, if I choose.” She made sure to point out the last part so her friend would drop the subject.

“I’m just saying,” Angelica put her hands in up in defense, but still had that knowing look on her face like she didn’t believe her. Y/N sighed and got up from her chair, heading towards the break room for another coffee.

Upon entering, she noticed Thomas was already by the coffee machine, pouring his own cup. He looked up and raised a brow. “Long day?”

“And it’s only getting started,” Y/N rubbed a hand over her face and motioned towards the machine. “Are you done hogging that now?”

“Woah, woah, what did I do to be treated with such attitude?” Thomas chuckled and grabbed a cup for her.

“Sorry, I’m just...kind of stressed, not really looking forward to the weekend?”

“You mean Angelica’s party?” Thomas handed the cup over to her, nodding at her thanks and watched her add cream into the liquid.

“Yes, actually. I’m not really good at parties, I think they’re too exciting for me. Go on, say it, I’m a boring buzzkill.” It’s not like she’s ever heard anything different before when trying to explain how she’d rather stay at home and unwind while reading a book or watching tv and just relaxing, instead of being surrounded by sweaty bodies and drinking till she grows numb.

“Now why are you putting words in my mouth? I was actually going to say I agree with you.” Y/N looked up in shock, not believing that Thomas Jefferson was one to refuse a party invitation.

“Really? You don’t like parties?”

“Not that I don’t like them, sometimes they grow old. It’s the same scene over and over again and I’d rather switch it up a bit, change the location, you know?” He had a small smile on his face, looking like he was fonding over some memory.

“You’re right, it must be so hard being invited to parties all the time!” Y/N smirked as he gasped dramatically in mock offense. It only lead to them giggling to each other, only stopping when someone else cleared their throat from the doorway.

Y/N found John standing, his usual smile gone and replaced with a frown and furrowed brows. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no, I was just leaving actually,” Thomas made way to the exit before hesitating, turning back to look at Y/N. “I’ll see you at the party, Y/N.”

She waved shyly, watching him walk away. It was comforting talking to Thomas, in a way. They didn’t do it very often, but when they did Y/N felt relaxed.

Lost in her thoughts, a cough startled her and she realized she was standing in John’s way. Y/N stepped to the side, muttering an apology and thinking how Friday night might not be so bad.

~~~

It’s not that Y/N doubted that Angelica would not settle for less than a full out, top quality club. But she didn’t think that it would include a private floor, filled with a bunch of people that Y/N didn’t know. Luckily, she spotted the birthday girl herself from across the room.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Angelica screamed over the music that was blasting from the floor below. She was well passed tipsy already, but she knew that Angelica would want to sober up before the night was over. She was never one to purposefully forget her birthday. “Come on, let’s get you a drink!”

She pulled her over towards the overcrowded bar, pushing passed drunks and couples dancing, Y/N even got stumbled into and turned to find a familiar head of curls.

“Watch it, Laurens!” The glare sent his way was enough to make him sheepishly smile.

“My bad,” John walked off towards a booth in the corner, surrounded by a few other men, one who she had recognized as a friend of Thomas.

A shot was shoved into her hand and soon enough, so were two more. Once a proper drink was in her hold, Angelica invited her to a game of pool with her sisters.

Somehow, Y/N got surrounded by a bunch of people that she didn’t know. Angelica had been dragged over by a short man, which meant Y/N was dragged as well. It was the booth full of John’s friends, and they had made their impression, that was for sure.

“Ah, and who do we have here?” Thomas’s friend came over and smiled, making Angelica smirk and push his chest.

“Laf, this is Y/N,” Even though they had never met before, Lafayette beamed at the mention of her name.

“So, this is the famous Y/N we have heard so much about, heh?” He grinned devilishly, like he knew something that she didn’t. It was strange, what would Angelica have said about her?

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N stuck out her hand politely.

“Oh please, the pleasure is all mine, cherie!” He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss in her knuckles. She giggled at his performance, looking to see if anyone else was buying the act. But when she looked around to see if anyone else knew something, she only saw John glaring at his friend while sipping on his drink.

Her coworker’s odd behavior was enough for her to move herself to the bar, ordering another drink for herself. As the bartender handed her the cup, he told her that it was already paid for, pointing her in the direction to a man across the room. He was cute, and if the look in his eye told her anything, it was the words Angelica had said.

You don’t have to worry about anything.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

Perhaps she was right.

She was tired of everyone telling her how boring she was.

Y/N found herself dancing with the guy, not bothering to learn his name and more focused on her hips moving with his. The lips on her neck gave her a rush, like she was finally doing something fun and risky.

His hands were pulling at the hem of her dress when she was jolted forward. The guy had bumped into her hard, and when she turned around she found out it wasn’t the guys fault, but John’s.

“What the hell man?” The guy got up in his face. Y/N couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but it looked like it was something threatening. Laf, the short man and another one of John’s friends appeared, trying to pull him back and tell him to just leave it alone. John wasn’t having it, took to pushing the guy hard once more.

It was a giant commotion that got security involved, and Y/N was over it. She ran out of the club, tears brimming her eyes as she thought about what exactly just happened.

John always had to ruin the night. John always had a problem with her.

John also stopped her from calling a cab, grabbing her hand just as she reached the sidewalk and calling her name.

“What the fuck, John? What the hell was that for?” Y/N screamed, wide eyed and wondering why when she was finally having a good time, he had to fuck it up.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I just- I couldn’t let him-”

“Couldn’t let him what? Touch me? Dance with me? Why? How does that have anything to do with you, John?” Nothing was connecting, there was never a time she could recall where John cared about her love life.

“He was an asshole anyways, alright? Was he really all that to you? Okay, if anything I was helping you!” If he could actually believe that, John was growing angry, too. He had no right to be, but his kept spitting out words that only made Y/N fill with rage.

“What did I ever do to you? Why? Why do you have such a problem with me?” While furious was an understatement, she seemed to be more confused as to why John got involved anyways. She was finally inching out of her shell and he just had to give her a reason to want to never leave her apartment again.

“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. I’m drunk, I’m-I didn’t mean to do that, I just-”

“Just what?” While John was stumbling with his words, she knew better. “Being drunk is not an excuse against your actions!”

"I was just trying to make a point! He was all over you, I thought you were uncomfortable!” He narrowed his eyes, and he’d grown more angry than regretful only a few seconds before.

“Well, I wasn’t! I am a grown woman, John, I’m allowed to have fun and meet guys! I was having a good time until you had to ruin it!”

“Jesus- I was just looking out for you! It’s not my fault you’re such a whore-”

The world seemed to stop as the two screaming voices died instantly at the sharp sound of the hit. John locked his jaw before he lifted his hand to rub his cheek. When he finally lifted his eyes, he saw Y/N pursing her lips in pure rage, a single tear streak ran down her cheek. She looked so small, fragile in a way that made him want to wrap her in his arms and promise that he would make sure that nothing ever hurt her.

He had already proven that he could never do such a thing.

“Fuck you, John.” Y/N whispered and turned, leaving him standing alone, full of regret.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Laurens taglist: @alievans007 @etjt1821 @dontblinkumightmiss @hj-creates

#john laurens x reader fic #john laurens x reader #john laurens imagine #john laurens x oc #my writings #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #John watch your mouth #we respect women in this house #anyways #I’ll probably rewrite this but it’s fine

87 notes · View notes