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gracieheartspedro · 10 months

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Cool About It

it's here. the third and final part!

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: it's been over a year with joel and some things have just fallen apart. you miss him, more than you'd like to admit. after some time apart, you find yourself at tommy's christmas party. your recent endeavours catch up with you, and joel doesn't like the way it's looking.

Part 3/3

Links for Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, very angsty, age gap, joel being very protective, use of homophobic slang, guy being creepy towards reader, very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names

Author's Note: I'm so happy to bring this final part to you beautiful people. I've loved writing this series so much! Thank you for your patience and kindness. please leave feedback, I love hearing from you guys.

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind

I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie

But we don't have to talk about it

I can walk you home and practice method acting

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing

Even though we know it isn't true

“So are you and Joel going to work it out?”

It was a question bearing on your mind for months. You really didn’t want to hear it from Ellie.

You and Joel had officially been broken up for three months after seeing each other for over a year. It was never a concrete thing, the foundation of your relationship was cracked due to some unresolved trauma from both of your pasts. Joel was in the same boat as you when it came to not being able to cope with his grief. His daughter being taken from him so young, the horrors he went through trying to survive the end of the world, and of course the deep and complex relationship he had with Ellie. You had a lot of unsettled trauma from losing your entire family and being alone for most of your life. You also always had this sinking feeling that he was not telling you the full story about the last couple years. He seemed hesitant to discuss how he found Ellie in the first place. You could tell there was some awkward tension and unresolved issues between the two of them. You just wanted to help.

He started drinking a whole lot towards the tail end of the relationship and you weren’t sure why. He’d stumble back home drunk, not even able to kiss you goodnight.

It was getting complicated. He was terrible about communicating his feelings and you were too stubborn to accept you were ever wrong.

Of course, there were good times. Like all of the Saturday nights going out dancing with Tommy and Maria. The game nights with Ellie. Sitting outside on his front porch with nothing but his guitar, making you sing songs only your father would know.

You missed him terribly. But you knew it was for the better. It has to be for the better.

Ellie sits next to you at the annual Christmas party which was hosted by Maria and Tommy. They usually did it at their house, but with a toddler, it just didn’t seem realistic there anymore. So instead, they had it at the large food hall and invited all of Jackson.

You glance over at her, your eyes glazed over from all the alcohol you’d been consuming.

That was another thing. You couldn’t stop drinking, now. It was the only way you could get to sleep at night. You had even started going to the Tipsy Bison every night to get wasted and on some rare occasions, have a guy take you home.

You were almost positive Joel was sleeping with one of the other patrol leaders too, a girl named Kelly. She had made eyes at him before you two got together. You’d seen them around a couple times, just talking and getting close. The first time you saw them, you got wasted at the Bison and threw up your entire breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

It only made you want to get over him faster, so having those guys take you home was a distraction. But you’d never fully admit that.

“I don’t know, kid,” Is all you could think to say to Ellie. Your mind was muddled with stupid emotions and disgusting whiskey.

“He’s nicer when you’re around. Now, he’s just… angry.”

You felt bad. But you couldn’t fall back into that routine with Joel. Fight, makeup, fight again. There was an extreme disconnect in communication. It was exhausting.

You stand up on wobbly legs, “I’m gonna go grab ‘nother drink. You want somethin’?”

Ellie was technically underage but you knew she drank with her friends sometimes. She looked at you with a bit of contempt.

“No, thanks.”

You shrug, sauntering back over to the bar.

You notice a familiar silhouette at the end of the bar, but don’t bother glancing that direction. You knew he was watching you and Ellie talking a second ago, his eyes always trailing you. You didn’t want to look over and see Kelly beside him, so you act like he isn’t even there.

“Another whiskey, pleaseeee,” You beg the bartender standing nearby. He doesn’t look too happy about serving you more, but you had lost all sense of self control about an hour ago and he knew that by the look on your face. He pours you some more dark liquor and sends you on your way.

As soon as you turn to walk away, you spot another familiar face walking directly towards you.

Josh Hall.

He was one of the guys you slept with. He was a nice guy, kinda. He was a know it all, shallow, and a bit arrogant. So maybe not a nice guy.

You slept with him twice, both times when you were drunk. From what you could remember, he didn’t make you cum.

He was only a bit taller than you, blonde hair and blue eyes. He was cute enough to get into your pants. But every time you thought about any other man, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t Joel.

“Hey there,” You try not to slur, “How are ya?”

“Hi beautiful,” He grabs your hand, pulling you in for what you assume is a kiss. You wince, directing his lips to your cheek. He presses his chapped lips against your skin.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to avoid the gazes of the people around you. You could feel his eyes on you even from 50 feet away.

“Thought you’d wanna come dance with me,” He has his hand slipping around your waist. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. He knew you were drinking, your glass swaying right in front of his face.

Your red flags are raising quickly. Josh never approached you any other times of the day. Never during patrols, never just around town. He only showed interest when you had a glass of liquor in your hand.

“I am actually bringing this drink to someone, so please get off of me,” You lie, trying to get him away.

You had to be patient with a guy like Josh. He could be pushy sometimes, so you had to be firm but sweet. You wouldn’t want to start a stir at a party with a bunch of families, right?

But he wasn’t letting go.

His eyes were piercing into yours. You could tell he was drinking, his eyes a bit glassy like yours. You hadn’t even seen him come into the party. It’s like he just appeared to make you mad.

“Just have one dance with me,” His breath stunk of alcohol and unbrushed plaque. You wanted to vomit.

“No, I need to bring this drink to someone.”

His grip is getting progressively tighter and he’s walking you backward.

“Who? Who’s drink is it? New boyfriend?”

You swallow hard, not knowing who to say.

“It’s for Ellie.”

He smirks, “You givin’ an underage dyke a drink? Don’t think her daddy would like that.”

Something in you flips. Rage. Pure unadulterated rage. Your body doesn’t even give your brain a moment to mull over your next move. You throw the drink on the ground, the glass shattering all over the floor. You step back, finally breaking away from him.

“What did you just fuckin’ say?!”

He releases you, backing up. He had this offended look on his face, like you had kicked a puppy.

Liar.

It made you even more mad.

“What did you say, Josh?” You emphasize his name, never breaking eye contact, “You fuckin’ call her that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

You stomp forward, your hands reaching up to him. You had never snapped so quickly in your life. Something about him saying negative about Ellie made your protective maternal instinct go into overdrive. Ellie meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last year with her and Joel.

Your fingers wrap around his scrawny little throat. He was trying to back away, but a table stopped all his movements. He was pinned.

“You fuckin’ dare talk about her or anyone I fuckin’ know, I will make sure you never utter another wor-“ You feel hands around your waist, pulling you back from possibly choking him out. It almost takes the wind out of you. Your hands let go of his neck, but not without digging your fingernails into his skin.

You are so blindsided, you don’t even know who has a grip on you.

“Hey, hey, stop!” His voice is familiar. Almost Joel’s, but not.

No, because Joel is instead grabbing Josh from the spot you pinned him to. You look back and see Tommy, his face panicked and confused.

You watch as Joel grabs Josh by the shirt, throwing him towards the middle of the dance floor. A bunch of people are standing around watching Josh stumble, trying to gain his composure. The music completely stops, bringing the hall to complete silence. Joel doesn’t give him enough time to stand up straight. You try to push Tommy off of you, but he’s got an iron grip on you.

“What did he say?” Joel yells towards you, gesturing towards Josh. Everyone has completely stopped what they are doing to watch the scene unfold.

You look towards where Ellie is, her face twisted in horror. Jesse stands next to her, his face serious. You know this is probably embarrassing for her, so all the anger leaves your body, replaced with guilt and shame.

“Joel,” You warn, “Please.”

Joel was extremely protective when you two were together. Ever since you two split, he has tried his very hardest to not snap. Once he sees a man’s hands on you, though, he can’t help but let fury fill his entire being. Tonight was no exception except this time, you got violent before he could. Which only meant you had no other choice. You usually keep a calm exterior, trying not to step on anyone’s toes. When you drink, you’re actually sweeter and more complacent.

“What did he say?”

Instead of you saying anything, Maria steps in. She wedges herself between Joel and Josh, making sure neither one of them takes another step.

“Cool it!” She yells, her eyes flying over to you being held back by Tommy.

“He better get his ass out of this tow-“

“Shut it, Joel,” She warns, reaching out for his arm, “Let’s take a walk.”

“‘m not going anywhere,” His voice is booming which sends a chill down your spine, “Get this fucker out of here and away from her.”

He looks towards you, Tommy slowly loosening his grip on your upper body. You wiggle out, trying to steady your breathing. You didn’t even realize that you were panting like a dog.

You’ve completely sobered up. The dizziness you feel is just from adrenaline.

Maria guides Josh to the door, listening to him rant about his side of the story. You look back at Tommy, who’s obviously taken aback by the way you snapped. He’s never seen you so mad.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tommy. He just said something about Ellie,” You whisper it, trying to ensure Joel didn’t hear. You know well enough that if he found out the words Josh uttered, he would have a pistol between the poor guy’s eyes.

“I think you need to go home and cool down,” Tommy suggests, “This is not the place for that.”

You felt horrible. Everyone’s eyes were still on you. You nod, understanding Tommy’s reasonings for practically kicking you out of the party. He gestures Joel over, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“I’m gonna have someone walk her home,” He nods to you, “Would you be willin’ to or should I ask Jesse?”

Joel shakes his head, “I’ll get her home.”

“I can get home myself,” You retort, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You didn’t want Jesse or Joel walking you home, it felt like a walk of shame times a million.

“Get her home safe, Joel,” Tommy remarks, tapping you on the shoulder. He wasn’t giving you an option.

You step over the shattered glass, while Joel guides you to the door. You felt so humiliated, not knowing what face to make at the people who were scowling you. So you keep your head down, grabbing your coat from the chair beside Ellie. Joel is trailing behind you. You look up for a second, meeting Ellie’s brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” You mumble, “For everything.”

She shakes her head, her lips thin, “It’s okay. Get home safe.”

Joel taps your shoulder, nodding his head towards the door. You put your winter coat on, pulling out your hair that’s stuck between it and your thermal.

It was snowing, soft pillows of white ice covering all of Jackson. You breathe out a loud sigh when you get outside, while Joel shuts the dinner hall door.

You didn’t know what to say to him, really. You felt like he shouldn’t have stepped in, but deep down you were glad he did because it probably put the fear of God into Josh. Maybe he won’t ever speak to you again.

When you start on your journey home, you and Joel are silent. You hadn’t spoken much since your separation. You two got into a huge blowout fight in which the both of you said some pretty terrible things to each other. It was the first and last time you yelled at Joel.

“Why can’t I just make my own decisions?”

“You almost got yourself killed! You almost got Ellie killed. How the fuck am I supposed to react? Just let you two back on patrol like nothin’ happened!? No fuckin’ way. You’re not going back out unless I’m with you.”

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, “I had it under fucking control, Joel! You always find ways to blame me for something! I brought her home. I did. You weren’t fucking there because you were too fucked up to even get up this morning,” You knew that stung, the way his face twisted in disgust, “You’re the last person on Earth to make decisions for me or Ellie.”

You struck a nerve, you could tell by the deadly serious look on his face.

“You don’t know what’s good for, Ellie. Stop actin’ like you fuckin’ do. You have manipulated her to believe she knows what’s good for her. She doesn’t, okay?”

He couldn’t be serious.

“You’re not even her real father, Joel. She is going to remember all the times you shut her down and made her feel like she didn’t have a choice. Is it really worth your pride?”

He slams his fist on the table, “Get the fuck out!”

You accept that as the end of the conversation and the relationship.

You start to walk through the slush, knowing you had a good 15 minute walk home. You felt sick with anxiety.

“How have you been doin’?”

You laugh, “Fuckin’ fantastic, Joel.”

“Yeah me too,” He lies. He clears his throat before continuing, “So, what did he say?”

“Drop it Joel,” You warn, a hiccup coming up your throat, “Let’s just not talk about it ever again.”

“I’ll get it out of ya one day,” He comments, zipping up his jacket some more. You shake your head, chuckling a bit at the absurdity.

“You didn’t have to step in,” You add, “I had it handled. Like I always do.”

His pace picks up, matching yours.

“Wrapping your hands around ‘nother guys throat is not very you, darlin’,” He says, grabbing your arm to halt your next step, “He had to of said something pretty bad for you to throw your drink and choke him out in front of a bunch of people.”

You knew what he was trying to do. He wanted to lure it out of you, but you weren’t caving. He was good at making it seem like there was no choice other than tell him what happened.

“Guess you’ll never know, Miller,” You tug your arm away, “Tommy said you’d walk me home, not interrogate me.”

He huffs, “You are so stubborn.”

You stop mid step, turning to look him in the eye. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“You’re the one to talk, Joel.”

“And you need to quit the drinkin’. Makes you sloppy.”

His tone was condescending and for him to call you out on drinking? No fucking way.

“You sure were sloppy the last couple times I saw you drinkin’. Remember the four patrol shifts you had last summer you couldn’t get to cause you were too fucked up the night before? Or how about a couple weeks ago when you tried to fight that guy at the Bison?”

He takes note of your aggressive tone. You weren’t just going to cower your head and take his shit.

Maybe you were using the drinking to not think about the fact that you missed his stupid ass. Maybe it was to medicate the anxiety that rattled your bones every time he slipped your mind. Either way, he was such a hypocrite for trying to use that against you. Make it seem like he wasn’t doing that same thing when you were still together.

“I’ve quit all the drinkin’… and hey, he called you a name,” He mumbles, “Had to put him in his place.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his statement, “What do you mean he called me a name?”

He continues to walk, almost trying to physically dodge the question. But if he was going to be persistent, you were going to be, too.

“Joel-“

“Garrett said you were whoring yourself out to him and a couple of the other guys. Called you a slut,” He confesses, not looking towards you at all.

You felt sick to your stomach. Garrett was a guy you had patrolled with, a guy who seemed really nice to your face. The same guy Joel gave a black eye to.

“I’ve only slept with like, two other people.”

You could tell it rattled him a bit. It was a statement he couldn’t be mad at, really. He was a man with needs, too.

“Well, the word’s gettin’ around. He said you told him he had the best dick you’ve ever had,” He laughed as the words slipped his tongue, “God knows that’s ain’t true.”

You push your hands into your pockets, “I never slept with him. It’s only been Josh and…”

You stop yourself, instantly feeling sick to your stomach at the next name that almost came out your mouth. It was something you regretted so deeply in every fiber of your being. Something you tried to forget the very second the interaction.

“Who else?”

“No one,” You say, trying to steady your voice, “None of your business.”

“It was Jesse, wasn’t it?”

Caught.

You cough, clearing your throat. You never wanted to talk about this to anyone, let alone Joel. You were desperate and no other guys really made you feel appreciated.

The wind picks up, which causes the snow to billow towards your face and take your breath away.

“Can we just,” You shake your head, trying to get the hair out of your face, “Can we just discuss this when we get to my house?”

He leads the way, moving quickly. You follow close behind, almost using his body as a shield from the snowstorm. When you finally see your house through your frosted lashes, you feel some sense of relief.

Joel walks up to your front porch, gesturing to you to lead the way. You knew you’d have to light a fire in the living room and warm up the small abode, so once you open the door, you rush to your fireplace. You stack wood, not taking much mind to Joel who’s kicking off his shoes and removing his coat.

You didn’t want to do this with him. You didn’t want to discuss anything, explain yourself, or hash out any unresolved bullshit. After the night you had, you wanted to carry yourself straight to bed.

“Want help?”

You crouch down, flicking a match into the pit, igniting the old coals.

“No, I got it, Joel.”

He huffs, sitting down on your slouchy red couch. Nothing in your house was particularly nice, but you kept it clean and tidy. Everything had a spot, except for the man taking up space before you.

“So,” He slaps his hands on his knees, “You want to explain or?”

“No Joel,” You respond, “I don't feel like I owe you an explanation, truthfully. I honestly don’t wanna rehash all this shit with you.”

His lips tighten into a half smirk, “Okay, that’s fine.”

Silence fills the room again. You were shocked he didn’t press it further, but a bit relieved.

“Just wanna ask one thing,” He grumbles. You stand up straight, shimmying your coat down your arms.

“What?”

“Was his dick the best one you’ve ever had?”

You feel like all the air has left your body.

“What?”

“Jesse. Josh. Were they the best you’ve ever had?”

Hearing their names made you cringe. You knew your answer, but you wonder if you should indulge him in the truth.

He knew it already, but he wanted to hear it from your lips. The haze and exhaustion from the crazy evening makes the confession slip from your lips.

“Joel,” You whisper, “You know damn well they aren’t shit compared to you.”

It’s like you blinked and he’s on you. His hands slide up your waist, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a bruising kiss. You don’t pull away because this is what you’ve been wanting.

The sex with Joel was like nothing else. Maybe your relationship was rocky. Maybe you hated the way he spoke to you sometimes. Maybe you hated the way he tried to control every little thing.

But the sex made it all worth it.

The way his hands molded around your body. His lips trailing up and down from your neck to your calves. He knew your body better than you probably knew it yourself. He never walked away from an encounter without making you cum several times. He could play you like his guitar.

You two are falling all over your furniture to make it to the couch. He sits down, holding you close while you straddle his thighs. He’s not letting up, his kisses feverish and hurried.

You pull away to catch your breath. His pupils are huge and his lips are already swollen.

“What are we doing?” You whisper, using your thumb to brush across his pink lips.

“This is what we do, baby,” He grabs your ass, pulling you flush with his crouch, “We fight and fuck. That’s all we do.”

You lean up, grinding down on his growing bulge.

“I shouldn’t want to, but fuck,” You throw your head back, trying to ease the throbbing you feel, “I always want you, Joel.”

“I always want you too, sweetheart,” His hand finds the back of your neck, rubbing circles into the sides while you grind yourself on his lap, “I don’t want any other pussy but yours. No one else compares.”

You smile in sick pleasure, “We are so fuckin’ toxic, Joel Miller.”

He laughs, pulling your head forward. Your eyes meet his and it’s a sudden realization that you two are just actually insane. That after all the bullshit you put each other through, your horniness always wins. He wants you just as much as you want him, and yet you two can never figure out how to work problems out like actual adults.

“Tell me you don’t fuckin’ like it that way,” He trails a kiss up your neck to earlobe, “And I’ll stop right now. Leave you alone forever. Keep your dirty little secret that you like to fuck guys half your age.”

The rise Joel Miller can get out of you should be studied. He knows exactly how to push every button you’ve ever had, even the one’s you didn’t know existed. The idea of people knowing you fucked Jesse makes your stomach twist, especially since he was Ellie’s friend.

You and Joel’s age gap never really bothered you. Maybe it was because he was older than you, but he didn’t feel that much older than you. You felt ancient with Jesse and even Josh. Joel made you feel like you were on the same level with a man.

You stop grinding on him, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him back to meet your gaze. He’s smiling a shit eating grin, knowing you’re pissed.

“You’re the guy who’s fucking people half your age,” You lift yourself a bit, looking down at him with half lidded eyes, “And you flaunt it. You love having me as your little play thing. Y-”

“And you fuckin’ love it.”

“I’m talking,” You shush him, “You are going to let me talk.”

You grab his belt undoing it like you used to almost every night, “You’re going to sit back like a good boy, and let me remind you why this is the only pussy you want to fuck.”

Joel has never seen you like this. It’s like the distance between you two gave you time to gain more confidence. You tested him now, and he kind of liked it. He’d never say but he loved when you were bratty to him. Sure, before you were a little smart ass, but you were practically dominating him. It was a good change of pace.

“Talk ‘bout toxic, baby girl,” He groans, “You know I can’t sit back and be a good boy.”

You use one hand to reach into his pants and grab his hard on.

“You’re going to learn today,” You smile, “Because if you don’t, you’ll walk home with blue balls and you can call Kelly over to fuck you.”

He chuckles a bit, “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

You stop your actions, looking at his smug fucking face.

“You literally just interrogated me about how I fucked half of Jackson,” You spit, “I can continue adding to the tallies. Have you watch me whore myself out to all of your patrol partners.”

“You ain-”

“Maybe I’ll get even bolder,” You continue, “Maybe I’ll even try to fuck the other Miller boy.”

You were completely fibbing. You’d never cross that line. You loved Maria and you respected her more than any other person in Jackson. You just really wanted to get under Joel’s skin.

And you quickly realize you did.

He flips you on your back and cages you under his arms.

“You’re a fuckin’ dirty slut,” He is grabbing at your pants, yanking them down. Your jeans were skin tight and wet, but it took no time at all for him to tear them off your body, “You ain’t in charge here.”

“Let me up,” You demand, pushing at his chest. He wasn’t budging, he was on a mission. He tears off your underwear, exposing your wet slit. You didn’t even realize how dripping you were for him.

“Look at you,” He teases, “Fuckin’ pathetic. Tryin’ to say you’d fuck my brother?”

He shakes his head, using his fingers to trace up and down your slit. You wanted to scream out, but your mind goes blank. You were quaking with anticipation. You surrender to him pinning you against the couch. You’d get him back eventually.

“He’d never fuck a slut like you,” He continues, “No, he doesn’t know how to handle someone like you.”

“And you do?”

“I’ve been at it for awhile,” He sticks a single finger in you, making a squelching sound as he does, “Think ‘m gettin’ pretty good at ruinin’ you. Puttin’ you in your place.”

You finally moan out in pleasure, which makes his face twist in satisfaction.

“Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve missed how tight you are,” He groans, “Squeezin’ my fingers and cock so good.”

You’re practically soaking the couch with how wet you are already. All the build up and smack talk really put you in bind, his fingers driving you absolutely wild.

He eases out of you, tracing your body to begin lifting off your shirt. He throws your shirt across the room, noticing you were actually wearing a padded bra. You smile at his realization.

“Found one of these,” You gesture, toying with the straps, “Bet you’d never see the day.”

You had gotten used to never wearing a bra and Joel usually enjoyed it that way. You could never find a comfortable one and all your old ones were ragged and gross. On a recent patrol, you found a red bra in your size in an abandoned home. You stole it, tucking it carefully in your backpack to try on back home. Lucky enough, it fit and made your boobs sit better than they ever have.

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters, lining the bra with his fingers, “As pretty as it is, it needs to go.”

You reach around your back, undoing it without another word. As soon as it is off, his fingers make work at pebbling your nipples. He smacked one with a gentle open hand. You squeak at the impact, watching Joel’s eyes revel at your bare body. He loved seeing you like this, crumbling under his touch.

He props himself up on his knee which is wedged between your thighs. He pulls his shirt over his head, discarding it on the coffee table next to him. His buttons are already undone after you found yourself with your hands down his pants, earlier. He pulls those down too, letting them pool around his ankles.

“For being a brat,” He nudges you, making you move your legs and plant them on the ground. You sit up, his hand ripping you off of your spot on the couch. He positions you between his legs, his cock standing up waiting for you. You sit back on your heels, enjoying the view.

“You’re gonna try to be a good girl and suck me off.”

You smile eagerily, slowly running your hands up his thighs and to the base of his cock. Instead of getting straight to it, you bring the head of his cock to your lips and kiss it softly. You toy with the idea of completely ignoring his demands, but you come to the conclusion that you’d probably get nothing if you did that. And you wanted him so bad. You thought about this moment for so long.

“Stop playin’,” He groans, watching you with his arms laying across the back of your couch. He looked like one of those statues you saw in old textbooks when you were a teenager. The ones you’d see at an old art museum scuplted from marble. The ones with the small dicks. That’s truly the only thing that differentiated the two. Joel was massive.

“I’m not playing,” You disagree, “Shush.”

Before you can continue your tease, he grabs the top of your head. He is usually pretty assertive, but good God, he was not letting you get away with anything. You widen your lips, taking his cock into your mouth. Instead of progressing down his shaft slowly, he makes you take it fully down your throat. It causes you to gag a bit. You pull back, only for him to push you down again.

You grip onto his thighs, digging your nails in a bit. You knew you would probably leave marks with how hard you were pressing into his skin. He winces, but continues to practically face fuck you.

“You don’t tell me to shush, little girl,” He moans, watching your saliva drench his cock. He finally lets you pull up off him, holding your face in the process, “You hear me? You take this cock like a good girl.”

“Yes,” You manage to say, your throat already hurting from taking him in.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now come sit on my face.”

You oblige, standing up to let him reposition himself.

You two have done this maybe twice. Each time you practically suffocated him, but he fucking loved every second of lapping you up. You knew that you were in for a ride with the way he was toying with you.

He lays on his back, his hands keen on pulling your legs up to his shoulders. Your ass is positioned on his chest, his face between your thighs. You look down at him, sitting up straight before you ease down, letting your pussy take up the bottom half of his face.

He dives in instantly, his mouth hungrily devouring your pussy. You scream out, letting your body relax against him. His facial hair brushes across your folds and inner thighs while his tongue begins tracing your insides. He stops at your clit, flattening his tongue and pressing forward. You couldn’t control yourself, sinking yourself down further onto him. His nose nudges your folds before he runs his mouth down your slit again, so his nose is now pressed against your clit. He moans into you, the vibrations sending you into ecstasy.

You cum, your juices flowing down his face and your legs. He is moaning so loud, mewling at the fact that you never warned him you were about to cum.

He taps your thighs, advising you to get off of him. You shakingly remove yourself from his face, standing up to look down at him. He was so hard and his lips and beard were soaked with your cum.

“You fuckin’ squirted on me,” He laughs, sitting up. You felt kind of embarrassed, like you couldn’t even contain yourself for more than 2 minutes. “I’ll forgive you since it was hot. No cummin’ without permission.”

“Okay, sorry.”

Even though you weren’t sorry.

Your legs were practically numb and still quaking from your orgasm. You’re breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure. He notices your quivering and starts pulling you into his lap. You widen your legs, mounting his thick thighs. You look down at his cock, it sliding so perfectly between your pussy lips. He was a fucking dream.

He doesn’t even say anything, just watching you try to catch your breath.

“Relax baby,” He mumbles, “We haven’t even gotten started, yet.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it a bit before having you lift off of his thighs. He eases you up and onto the head of his dick. He spits into his hand, coating his shaft with it.

One thing about Joel, is he’s still the biggest you’ve ever had. No one ever got close to him.

The stretch makes you moan out in pure euphoria. You missed it so much. It was something you craved almost every night.

“Fuck,” You whimper, “Never gets old.”

He laughs at your admission, “Likewise.”

He snaps his hips against yours, settling into a slower pace. He was dragging it out, letting your walls become accustomed to him again. After a minute of slow strokes, he picks up his pace. He repositions, kneeling with his one leg extended out to the floor. You’re lifted up in the air partially, grinding down as he meets your motions with his strokes. Your hands are wrapped around his neck, your fingers finding his hair. His hands and grappling at your sides while you two moan in unison.

You two were finally on the same page, not bickering, just fucking out your feelings. You felt the aggression, resentment, and fear dwindling away from you as you sweat out the brutal pace he’s bringing to the table.

“I don’t want anyone else,” He sighs in between his cock hitting you at the perfect angle, “I only want this.”

You don’t think to hard about it, whimpering your response.

“Please let me cum. Please.”

“So pretty when you beg.”

He’s drilling into you at this point, your tits bouncing right into his face. You lazily throw your head back, letting him take one of your nipples into his mouth. You’re so overly sensitive, you don’t know what to say other than beg him to let you release.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum.”

He releases your tit with a pop, “Cum for me, baby.”

After two more strokes, you’re falling apart in his arms. He wraps himself around you, fucking you through the second orgasm.

He’s a whimpering mess, chasing his own release.

“Fuck, baby, fuck.”

“Cum for me, Joel. Moan out for me.”

His deep and guttral moan sends shockwaves through your body. You could feel his cum release inside you, while his arms grow tighter around you. After he finishes, he lays you back onto the arm of the couch. His cock still rests inside you, twitching at every little movement your hips made.

He swipes his forehead for sweat, marveling at you. He looks so endearing, like he didn’t just fuck your brains out and call you a bunch of names. The thought makes you giggle.

“What?”

You shake your head, touching his chest with your fingers, “You’re just handsome.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

You swat him while he slowly eases out of you. You whine a bit, letting the heat from the fireplace warm your body as oppose to Joel’s body heat.

He stands up, abandoning you on the couch as he picks up his discarded clothes. You prop yourself up, trying to sit up but your body feels like jello.

Your really didn’t want to watch him go.

“You should stay.”

His back is turned away from you. He freezes as he grabs his shirt from the coffee table where it landed.

He clears his throat, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave.”

It was true. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted so badly for this to change everything. But it was just sex. Exactly how this trainwreck started.

He starts to get dressed. You didn’t want to take that as his answer, but deep down you knew this is how things worked. You’d been through it with Joel before. You just had to wait for Ellie to come in and call you his “lady friend” and have him demand you “go get dressed”. It was the same thing every time. You thought it meant something but it really didn’t.

Once he slips his shirt over his head, he walks back to sit next to your naked frame. He brings his hand up to trace your leg, which is perfectly nudged up against him.

You really don’t want to believe all the things running through your mind. You craved an explanation.

“You said you only wanted this, Joel,” You grab a blanket from the back of the couch to cover yourself. You could tell he was at war with his thoughts, “Why can’t we start again? Do I seriously not mean anything to you?”

He realizes you’re pleading with him. He felt so guilty and it was written all over his face.

“Of course you mean somethin’ to me,” He acknowledges, “But we can’t keep doin’ what we were doin’. We always end up screamin’ bout somethin’ stupid. I don’t want to make you unhappy. You deserve to be happy.”

You contemplate for a moment, unsure how to respond.

“If being with you means screamin’ about something stupid and fighting over patrols and drinking too much and bickering over Ellie’s future,” You huff out, trying to not let the hitch in your throat become obvious, “Then I want it. I want it all. All the shit, all the fights. I want it because it’s with you.”

He doesn’t say anything immediately. The silence was deafening.

“We can try,” He mutters, “But we gotta stop tryin’ to fix everythin’ with sex. We gotta like… talk about things.”

You laugh out loud, noting his seriousness. You two were seriously thinking the same things.

“Can we talk about our problems, like, during the sex?”

You were completely joking. You wait for his response, but it comes with him shaking his head. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Your boobs press against his now clothed chest. You feel his hands slide up and down your sides. You groan in pleasure, his touch sending chills down your spine. You wanted it like this. Forever.

He clears his throat, “Well if I’m sticking around… round two?”

THE END.

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#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #cool about it #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #the last of us smut

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aeuropeansummer2022 · 2 years

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#4 The dream continued..

There probably isn’t a lot to explain across our three days in santorini.. we ate delicious Greek food, we drank delicious cocktails and we laid in the sun.. perfection. Our beautiful accomodation was just a dream land. So many times I felt like I was in a painting, I took as many moments as possible to soak it in! Yesterday we ventured out and watched as people swanned about in these elaborate dresses and photographers followed them, tossing up their chain and capturing the perfect Insta shot - who actually pays for this! I guess I can’t judge - credit to Bianca, I’m a human who loves taking a photo or 500 of the same thing, and she was patient in the endeavour! I won’t lie, there is a negative about Oia.. it’s fully built into a mountain, and my god, the step count. 72 floors on Saturday, and for somebody who doesn’t exercise religiously I’m feeling it!! We reserved a beautiful lunch spot at Pelikanos, with sweeping views of the santorini houses, blue domes and Aegean Sea. Seriously incredible, and the moussaka - chefs kiss! We went home for a siesta and some more relaxing - a little too much according to my chest that is currently cherry red and bloody sore! We again ventured out for dinner (probably the best ravioli I have ever had - though I’m sure Italy will give this a good run for its money). A few cocktails later, and the dreaded walk back down what we shall call the steps of death - shiny black rocks are a killer, so slippery! But we survived, a little walking adventure this morning and a gyros later, we’ve made it down the cliff front (the roads are ridiculous!) to the port where we await the ferry bound for Milos. I’m that excited - some of their beaches, look like a different planet. Greek Island number two, here we come!

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

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Saturday 10 May 1834

6 50

12 10

very fine morning F54 ½° at 7 ¾ am in my study – out at 7 ¾ with one or the other till near 10 then wrote and sent at 11 by Matthew going to Miss W- 1 p. and ends of outside envelope of my letter and the other letters to ‘Miss Walker Heworth Grange, York’ to say Joseph was just returned from Lidgate, the little girl had not had a good night but was very better this morning and Mr Robinson said there was no danger but she would be well in a few days and I therefore begged Miss W- not to alarm herself or Sarah - Matthew to go by the Highflier at 12 - then wrote the following ‘Miss Lister is very much obliged to Mr Parker for the catalogue of Miss [Currer’s] library - the catalogue is very well done, and very interesting, and Miss Lister returns it with her best thanks, and hopes Mr Parker will be so good as excuse her having inadvertently kept it so long - Shibden Hall Saturday Morning 10 May 1834’ to ‘Robert Parker Esquire’ - enclosed my note with the catalogue (large 8vo.) to Robert Parker Esquire the square’ - packed up things for Miss W- and had all off at 10 55 at which hour breakfast – had Mr Washington almost immediately – told him Joseph Wilkinson had changed his mind about selling the field William Green’s cottage stands in , and was going to build in the top part of it - told Mr W- merely to be on the lookout, and if any building ground was to be sold there to get somebody to buy it for me - to be 1st conveyed to him (for if Joseph W- knew it was for me, he would not let me have it at any reasonable price) and then 2ndly to me - it was Samuel Holdsworth told SW- he could buy the upper brea coal at £10 per D.W. - had had it offered several times - not much dependence to be placed Samuel H- out again at 12 for above an hour - then asleep an hour in my study - then wrote and sent by William Green at 3, the following to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam Solicitors H-x’ ‘Shibden Hall Saturday 10 May 1834 - Sir I am much obliged by your note - as it does not suit Mrs Scatcherd’s convenience to wait till after Friday, I would rather let the matter remain as it is - William Green is the bearer of the conveyance made to him by Mr Joseph Wilkinson - he (W. Green) agrees to sell me his 2 cottages under one roof for one hundred pounds. Be so good as get the purchase deeds ready for signing as soon as you can. I am sir, etc etc A Lister’ Joseph had brought me on his return from taking the note and parcel to Mr Parker a note from Mr Adam, to say he (Mr Parker) had been from home this week but was expected home tomorrow - that Mr Stansfield had called on the part of Mrs Scatcherd ‘to endeavour to make some arrangement for the giving up possession of the Northgate house estate. I understand her proposal to be to give up the possession of the whole of the property on the 1st day of November next whether or not it be sold, and that the arrangement shall be agreed upon before Friday next’ - ‘there have been many applicants to see the plan of the estate [etc.]’ - I do not expect to sell the property, supposing that my reserve bidding (10/. per yard = £10180+ or, if sold in the lump, £10000) will be too high - therefore I do not want to hurry about taking the remainder of Mrs Scatcherd’s lease which will expire 1 May 1836 - it would be difficult to let the house merely for 18 months, and by that time or thereabouts I shall be ready to put up the property in lots. In and out from 3 to 6 20 - dinner about 6 ½ - having had Pickells and his 2 men and set out the railing between my father and Mr Carr, and ordered Pickells and his men and Charles H-‘s nephew Carter to begin it the 1st thing on Monday morning. Joseph Booth waited on me at dinner 1st time - coffee – wrote the first 20 lines of today – then with my father and Marian and talking to the latter till near 10. John had expressed to her the inconvenience of his leaving Conery for anywhere in township of Hipperholme that his son John aetatis 10 might go free to Hipperholme school to fit him to be educated at the Gardener’s school at Leamington as a regular and upper gardener - convinced Marian of his folly, but said I should save by it, and would from the moment give up the thought - 40 minutes with my aunt till 10 35 she much better today – very fine day F55° now at 11

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lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.20}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was a week before Christmas break, on a snowy Friday evening, when Robin and Snape found themselves sitting at one of the tables in the lab yet again, waiting patiently while their newest project simmered quietly in a small cauldron in front of them. Eventually the draught would turn in colour, going from a dull yellowish brown to a brilliant ruby red, but until then there was nothing to do but chat while they had their usual evening coffee.

After the firewhisky endeavour in late October, most of November and December had gone by remarkably unspectacularly, and while they had spent some more evenings in Snape's room throughout that time, mainly because of the music that had stayed in his room in form of Robin's old record player, Robin hadn't ever dared to even consider staying over again. Not that she wouldn't have wanted to –gods, she would give about anything even just to sleep in that cloud of a bed again– but she was rather certain that she couldn't spend another night in his space without doing something stupid. Especially when he was starting to become less opposed to this innocent physical closeness, to her touch and to touching her in return, she was better off sparing herself the temptation of crossing lines she shouldn't even come close to. They had already gotten so far, and she couldn't jeopardize that for a ridiculous spurt of nightly braveness. So it was their normal routine of staying up until ungodly hours to work and talk and simply enjoy each other's company that brightened her days no matter what.

"Your hair smells like pineapple again." Snape remarked in a dramatic sigh, which effectively drew Robin out of her head again.

"Yeah, well, I forgot my shampoo and had to steal from Cas once more." She shrugged with a humoured huff, then took a long sip of her cooled down coffee and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you honestly detest pineapple that much?"

"Yes. They smell too sweet for how acidic they are."

"But I know for a fact that you like lemons, and those are even more acidic."

"I do like lemons, yes."

"Funny."

"For someone who cannot tell lemons and limes apart it certainly must be, yes."

Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but the smile on her lips gave away her true sentiments. He honestly would never let her live that down… and it had been years! That man had a memory better than a photo album or an audio recorder, and she found herself stuck between pride, envy and admiration. The middle would do.

"Next time I'll use Jorien's coconut body wash too, so that you get stuck with me smelling like a freaking piña colada, if you'd prefer that." She teased him right back with a small smirk, but then couldn't help laughing at his horrified expression. "Don't worry, I for my part have no intention of smelling like a fruity cocktail. Would be the cherry on top of everything, eh?"

"Funny." Now it was Snape who rolled his eyes, using his flattest and most indifferent tone, and Robin had to laugh even more. Especially when he finally couldn't help the smirk on his lips any longer either.

"Speaking of drinks, isn't-..." Robin was cut off by a loud knock, which made both her and Snape frown at each other simultaneously, then at the door. It was past one o'clock in the morning; who the hell would dare bothering them at this time?! With every intention to find an answer to that question, it was Robin who jumped off her chair and skipped to the door this time around, with Snape just a few steps behind her.

When she opened up, she was greeted by the kind and absolutely unsurprised face of none other than Professor McGonagall. Robin's eyebrows rose for a second, but she didn't forget her manners over her surprise. "Good evening, Professor. Is everything alright?"

"Good evening indeed, Miss Mitchell. Severus…" McGonagall gave both of them a nod and a smile, looking from one to the other as Snape came to stand so close behind Robin that she could feel his warmth on her back, as well as the gentle brush of his robes whenever he took a breath. It took quite a bit of effort on her part to keep focusing on McGonagall as she spoke on, clearly addressing Snape now. "I'm afraid I have news you won't like to hear."

"What happened?" Snape's voice was the perfect disdainful indifference once more, and Robin had no doubt that his expression was made to match.

"Pomona received an urgent owl an hour ago and henceforth has personal matters to attend to all weekend, which means she will not be able to see to the mandatory dancing instructions of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students tomorrow morning, and seeing as Filius isn't an option, by his own choice may I add, you're going to have to attend to half of the students, Severus." McGonagall stated in one long breath, with a pointed expression that left no room for arguments. Behind Robin's back, Snape held his breath for a second, which she only could tell by the lacking brush of fabric against her jumper.

"Certainly." He finally drawled, dutiful as much as disdainful. It wasn't hard to guess his thoughts on the matter, especially after he had successfully avoided giving this dance class for the past years. "I shall instruct the Slytherins myself, and whichever half of Pomona's students you wish to… impose on me."

"The Ravenclaws should be a better fit for you, I believe." The transfiguration professor was quick to reply. "Would you mind having the time between breakfast and lunch, in the great hall? I myself would prefer the timeframe from lunch until dinner."

"I am not partial to any time."

"It's settled then. You'll teach the Slytherins and Ravenclaws after breakfast." McGonagall smiled almost mischievously, or at least in a decent amount of amusement. "I believe a standard waltz shouldn't be a problem to you, after demonstrating it quite so nicely with Miss Mitchell at last year's ball."

Snape didn't reply, but Robin could feel him glaring at McGonagall over her shoulder. Honestly, she couldn't even blame him for being annoyed by the turn of events. This was probably the last thing he had expected to be doing on this Saturday, especially since they had previously made different plans. Looks like those would have to wait yet again.

"Anyway, I don't want to hold you two up any longer than necessary." McGonagall finally spoke on when nobody replied to her previous statement. "What is it you are doing at this time of night anyway?"

"Working." Both Robin and Snape replied in unison, in the same evading neutrality, and the woman in front of them couldn't help smiling in sincere amusement at their mannerisms.

"I see." She said, and tried to glance past Snape into the lab, only to give up after a half-hearted attempt. "I was merely being curious; I unfortunately have to conduct most of my experiments alone these days."

"If you find yourself looking for an assistant, I can only recommend you to ask Jorien Blakeley. She would be delighted, and I know for a fact that she has a remarkably strong interest in transfiguration." Robin couldn't help the blurb of words from escaping, but she also didn't quite regret it. "And as far as I'm aware, she has been getting fairly high grades as well."

McGonagall looked surprised at the suggestion, then she frowned to herself for a moment and finally smiled at Robin again as she went to reply. "Miss Blakeley really does have a talent for the subject, however I wasn't aware that she would take interest in furthering her knowledge beyond the classroom topics. Nor that she would enjoy having to spend more time with me than necessary."

"Believe me, she does. Very much so even. But she admires you too much to bother you with questions she believes to be too insignificant. Actually, she believes herself to be too insignificant. I try to tutor her as much as possible, but I am by far not the most proficient in the subject, nor can I teach her as much as she would want to learn."

"I certainly will consider speaking to the girl about assisting me then. Thank you, Miss Mitchell." McGonagall said in prevailing mild amusement, but definitely also appreciation, and then gave both Snape and Robin another nod. "Anyway, goodnight for now. I will see you both tomorrow."

As the professor left, Robin closed the door once again and let out a long breath while she followed Snape back to their stools. Perhaps McGonagall would ask Jorien for her assistance indeed, and that might just take some work off Robin's hands if the girl would get her answers from someone more adept in the subject.

"Funny." Snape said after a moment, as he gave Robin a teasing smirk. "You never admired me enough to spare me from your questions."

Robin gave him an immediate glare, but then also a smirk in return. "No, I admired you enough to know that you were the only one who could keep up with my questions in the first place."

"You've always been by far brighter than anyone around you." His smirk widened, and Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly to act over the warmth spreading in her chest and on her cheeks. "Logically, nobody but me could handle you even if you came with instructions."

"Hey!" She couldn't help laughing again at last, and nudged him in the shoulder before she slumped down in her seat. "I don't even know if that last part was supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

"That would be for you to decide."

Indeed, Robin decided on taking it as a compliment. If he thought that his intellect had somewhat found a match in her, she honestly could only feel flattered, brilliant as he was. Besides, he had long stopped insulting her for anything more than a tease in the first place… so a compliment it was. And honestly, Robin absolutely didn't mind that he was the only one who was able to handle her, and she even wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment. But the thought of handling things brought her on to a different topic of thought in an instant, and she frowned to herself for a second.

"I guess our plans for tomorrow are cancelled now, aren't they?" She stated more than asked, and the amusement faded off her face as it vanished from his as well. "I mean, we'll never make it all the way around the black lake between lunch and dinner, especially not in this snow. It'll be too dark to see our own feet even before we have walked half the distance if we start in the afternoon."

"Unfortunately." He sighed, then his face set in a scowl. "Teaching fifty fourth years how to dance certainly is the last thing I expected to do tomorrow."

For a second Robin had to snort at the confirmation of her previous assumption, in almost the same words even, but it was a bitter amusement and it confused Snape more than it cheered either of them up, so her face set back into a grim expression before long . "Too bad Sprout had urgent matters to attend to right on this weekend, out of an entire year to choose from."

"I was starting to believe I had once and for all gotten out of giving dancing lessons… The previous years I wasn't even asked to."

"I luckily only had to suffer through it once, during fifth year. Remember that? I danced with this redhead and everyone made a big deal out of it."

"How could I forget?" Snape huffed, rolling his eyes. "Minerva kept going on and on afterwards about how neat it would be to… encourage that non-existent connection she however believed to see between you and the Weasley boy."

Robin was the one rolling her eyes now, with an indignant scoff to accompany the expression. "Honestly, even back then I was far closer to you than to that boy, or to anyone at all really. You knew that, I even told you about it!"

"That you did." He confirmed, then lost some of the annoyance as he let out a quiet sigh. "I believe it isn't of relevance anymore, Minerva has long since come to her senses as has everyone else who attempted to conspire on the issue. But other than that, I would still like to hear more about your dancing lesson."

"Ah, yes…" Robin said, as the realization hit her that he probably hadn't received any such lessons during his time as a student nor gotten to witness the ones given in the previous years. "Well, uh, it wasn't spectacular actually. In the beginning there was a quick explanation about the whys and hows of dancing, and then McGonagall forced some seventh year boy to demonstrate the dance with her. After that we just had to pick a partner and practiced for like… two hours perhaps. A bit longer maybe. That's it."

"I assume Minerva corrected your errors while you practiced?"

"I'm not too bad at dancing, so she didn't concern herself much with me, but others' mistakes she did correct relentlessly from what I could tell."

"Good. I can do that."

"I think it'll actually be easier for you than it was for her." Robin shrugged at her own thought. "You shouldn't have the problem of people slacking off and fooling around. They're far too scared of you to cause any mayhem or refuse your orders. Easy."

The corner of his lips quirked up for a second, but then set back into a grim line. "I wouldn't call forcing some dunderhead to demonstrate the dance with me particularly 'easy'. Students are far less repelled by Minerva, which makes the entire endeavour less of a sickening prospect for her in return."

Either it was his self-deprecating words or the thought of him dancing with someone else that made Robin feel sour in an instant, but either way she had to swallow the lump in her throat down quite forcefully before she replied. "I… You… uh, I understand how dreadful it must seem to you to dance with someone. But I'm sure whoever you choose will be less repelled by it than you are, if that helps anything."

"I have no intention to force anyone to dance with me at all."

"Yes, no, but… I mean, since it's the fourth years we're speaking of anyway, I'm sure you could ask Jorien. She's quite indifferent to most people; she wouldn't care if she was dancing with you or with someone else. And if I ask her to do it, she will. Especially after I just advertised her to McGonagall."

"Actually, I was going to ask you." He said, surprisingly straightforward and direct in his approach of the topic. "For the favour of helping me with the entire lesson. It would be to the best advantage of everyone if the demonstration was nothing short of perfect, and an additional pair of eyes will certainly be beneficial for the students' practice afterwards as well."

A weight lifted off Robin's heart in an instant, and she had to smile at his through and through logical and desperately appropriate reasons for asking her assistance. "Of course I will help you. Anytime, with anything. You know that. And having someone to explain the female part will probably be good too."

"Likely. To be honest however, while those are all perfectly good reasons to ask you to do this with me, they aren't truly my measure. I rather know your presence is going to make the entire ordeal a lot more bearable, as it always does. And in the end, I would simply hate to dance with anyone but you, no matter the circumstances." He added after a moment, again in a shocking easy sincerity that almost had Robin's heart leaping out of her chest.

Her smile broadened until it was allconsuming in its radiance, like all those times when she failed to suppress the stupid hope that lived in every shadow of her mind these days. No. He would hate dancing with anyone else because Robin was the only person he found bearable to touch. Not because of any other reason. Who wouldn't choose a friend over a stranger? Her smile fell, her heart sank, and she couldn't help the hurt from showing in her eyes at least.

"You really should stop that, you know…" She finally said in a sad chuckle that was heartbreaking even to her own ears.

"What?" Snape asked in return, and his expression fell in accordance with Robin's. He looked almost taken aback, confused at least, about whatever he had obviously done wrong this time and Robin felt even worse for speaking up at all. She didn't dare to answer. So he asked again. "Stop what?"

"Forcing this ridiculous hope onto me." She said before she knew, with a sad smile and a gaze that dug souldeep into his. "Every time you say things like that, it forces a little more hope to seep through the cracks in my walls, and I need you to stop. I don't want to hope, I can't bear it… Hope is dangerous. It's torturing me."

Her words seemed to confuse him even more, and while he frowned deeply at her, the subtle hurt in his own eyes was undeniable. He wanted to understand what he had done wrong… she knew. But he hadn't done anything wrong at all, nothing but being who he was. And being who he was, he wouldn't let go that easily. "Hope for what, Robin? You have to be a bit more precise if I am to understand. And I would very much like to."

The sight, the thought almost broke Robin entirely, while his blissful oblivion almost made her laugh in return. Oh, how stupid could she be? For the first time he had done absolutely everything right by being completely honest, by trying to talk about an issue, and here she was, doing absolutely everything wrong in return. It wasn't his fault that she loved him too much, and it wasn't his fault that she couldn't handle her own stupid emotions.

"Nevermind." She sighed finally, tearing her eyes away from his to look down at her empty coffee mug on the table. "I'm just being stupid because my brain is too tired to function. You know me… I talk nonsense sometimes when I'm exhausted. If it wasn't for the stupid potion that just refuses to change colour, I'd be going straight to bed."

"Actually, it changed colour twenty minutes ago and I put a stasis on it to continue the work tomorrow afternoon."

Robin groaned in frustration and closed her eyes before hiding her face in her hands. "See! I didn't even notice! Great friend you have in me… and an even worse colleague. I'm such a failure…"

For a moment it was silent in the lab, and while Robin just hoped that she hadn't entirely screwed things up, she could practically hear his mind working at light speed. Gods, he had only said he quite liked to dance with her… and she'd gone on to make a scene of it. Great. So much for being better.

"To tell you the truth, I haven't the remotest idea what to do in a moment like this. What to say or do that would make things better for you and not worse. But I assume… perhaps this is the kind of situation where an embrace might prove helpful?" He finally spoke up, reluctantly and more than a little uncertain about his assessment of the situation, but without a hint of discomfort or doubt about the underlying offer he was making. Robin's hands dropped from her face in an instant, and before she knew, her eyes were filling with tears of adoration and exhaustion and overwhelm. His brows furrowed in return, his face a careful layer of neutrality.

Robin wanted to reply, wanted to say how damn right he was in that assumption, wanted to assure him that she wasn't being so bloody emotional because of anything he had done wrong, but because of all the things he was doing right. But all she could do was to nod, and then push herself off her stool to cross the space between them. Snape for his part stayed perched on the edge of his seat when Robin wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he pulled her flush against him when his arms circled her waist in return. They were almost the same height like this, or at least closer to it, which allowed Robin to hide her face in the soft fabric in the crook of his neck when her tears finally started spilling over. She didn't even know why exactly she was being so bloody stupid right now, so ridiculous and pathetic and weird… Her almost-slip of emotions hadn't backlashed. Her secret was still safe. Their experimental potion was intact and waiting to be continued. She would get to dance with him tomorrow, and help him with a class. She even was wrapped up in the most comforting hug ever at the moment, if that alone wasn't enough reason to be happy! Everything was bloody perfect. And yet, when he ever so subtly started playing with the tips of her hair that cascaded down her back, a strangled sob escaped her lips and he stopped in an instant.

"No, please…" She sniffed before she could think better of it. His hands in her hair had felt so nice… a hint of a sign that he enjoyed their closeness as well. "Please keep doing that."

It took a few seconds before he complied, but once he did, Robin sighed under her breath, and she was almost sure that she felt him smile against her shoulder in return. True or not, the idea sufficed to send a shiver down her spine, and finally she found herself able to relax. The tension left her body like a burn washed away by the sweet relief of a cooling water, and while she sunk deeper into the warm comfort of another perfect embrace, her spiralling emotions became subject to her will once more. It really was alright… they were alright.

"I'm really looking forward to dancing with you tomorrow." Robin finally said, in a calm tone and with a calm mind once again. He deserved to know that much at least, and it was a perfectly appropriate thing to say. "The circumstances… nah, but as long as we're suffering through it together, it will be alright."

"I take it then that an embrace really does make you feel better. I shall have to remember." He replied in amusement, and while that did make Robin smile, she also wasn't fooled over the astonishment he tried to hide behind it. Indeed, it was rather sad to think that he wouldn't know how comforting the embrace of a beloved person could be. Or perhaps he simply doubted that his embrace would have this effect on her. Either way, Robin made a mental note to make him understand and believe both in the nearer future.

"You shall indeed, I do feel a lot better. Always, with you." She sighed softly and closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her now that she could focus on it at last. "Still am beyond tired though."

"Perhaps you should go to bed. Tomorrow certainly will be exhausting enough with all the dunderheads stumbling through the room and tripping over their own two feet."

"We should totally play bullshit bingo with the idiotic things they might say or do…" Robin chuckled to herself and absentmindedly traced the seams of his robes she could reach with her fingertips. "That might just make the entire ordeal more amusing. For us, at least."

"How… temptingly unprofessional." He drawled in return, and the deep tone of his voice being so delightfully juxtaposed by his words made Robin snicker even more. "We most definitely should play indeed."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you." She yawned, and somehow it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her legs from giving out beneath her, now that her entire body was relaxing and being held up by his. "And I would have to say that I love it."

Her words made Snape chuckle, which was a sound so exquisite in its low rumbling depths that it sent new waves of shivers all over Robin's body, which left goosebumps in their wake in return. Bloody hell, he most definitely could feel the effects he had on her now… But at least he was kind or indifferent enough not to comment on it. She could always blame it on being cold or tired or something of that sort, should the necessity arise.

"You certainly have the strongest influence on me, and I daresay you are the only one I allow myself to be affected by in the first place."

"Well, if I'm the only one, being the strongest is hardly an accomplishment. And I would be the strongest and the weakest at the same time, you know…"

"Will you just take a compliment when I accidentally give you one for once, you insufferable little creature?"

"I can try." Robin grinned at his half humoured and half feignedly annoyed tone. "Even though I technically wouldn't call 'insufferable little creature' a compliment."

"But I would." Snape returned, and his smirk didn't need to be seen to make its way straight to Robin's heart, making it soar. "You are indeed quite tiny, as well as considerably different from any average humanness, and you most definitely are insufferable."

"Thanks…" She snorted, then stifled another yawn and wondered for a moment what would happen if she just fell asleep right in this spot; she was hardly supporting her own weight anymore anyway. Chances were high he'd wake her right back up or she'd cause him trouble if he tried not to, which wouldn't be much of a gain in either direction, and thus she banned the idea into the back of her mind.

"It seems like that was quite a weak attempt at humour on my end, going by your response. My apologies."

"No, I'm sorry, it really was funny! I'm just too tired to appreciate it properly."

"I still stand by my suggestion that you should go to bed. Teaching is more exhausting than one would assume, especially if it involves watching fifty students at once."

"You're right… I know."

That seemed to be the cue for both of them to ever-reluctantly let go of each other in the same silent agreement as always, and for Robin to sigh softly in disappointment at the loss of his delectable warmth and comfort in return. Yet, she didn't let any of it seep into her expression as she went to pick up her backpack from the other table and only turned back to Snape when she halted at the door before letting herself out.

"I really am looking forward to tomorrow." She said once again even though she'd told him already, but she couldn't help it. The excitement was there and it was strong, and he deserved to know. "I miss dancing with you."

He gave her one of his rare smiles in return, a genuine one that wasn't teasing or humoured but simply content and perhaps just a little excited as well. "This time I would like to ask you to dance though, if you will let me."

"Well, then you simply will have to be faster than me, won't you?" Robin smirked at him, wiggling her eyebrows for a second, and then had to laugh at her own ridiculous silliness. It really was too late for her own good. "Goodnight, Severus."

"Until tomorrow." He replied, and when Robin stepped out into the hallway with a huge smile lingering on her face, she couldn't help but think that perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that their plans for tomorrow had been changed. Maybe she would have to thank Sprout for being absent at some point.

______________________________

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

Family day playing hooky hc

(this turned into another fic. Apparently I don't make the rules anymore)

Read on AO3

It's the beginning of a long summer. Both kids are home - well, not really, since Amy has signed them up for several activities all around the city. Today is arts & crafts time at the children's library wing, Jake notes as he checks their shared calendar before the morning meeting. But they are home, insofar as Mac's school is closed for the summer holidays, and so's Maya's kindergarten. They drop them off at their daily activity in the morning, and the rest of the time they're at his mom's, who's been happily overfeeding them and entertaining them as the proud grandma she is. Or they drop them off at Gramma Peralta’s first, and she drives them to whatever place they were signed up at. It's a pretty good routine, and he's proud of Amy having found so many things for them to do that seem right up their alley, judging from their excited stories during dinner and the ever growing collection of handmade gifts on their living room shelves.

But they're home for the summer, and Jake and Amy have to sit at the sweltering precinct, slogging through paperwork and a dull week of almost no new cases. It's really not fair, Jake thinks. He remembers his summer days with Gina, when Nana would hand them both a couple of dollars and tell them not to be home until sunset at least. They can’t do that, obviously - Mac and Maya are still too young, and Brooklyn has definitely not gotten any safer since his early teens, when it was already questionably sketchy for him and Gina to stalk around the neighbourhoods and buy cheap ice cream and soda at random bodegas. He also remembers those few rare days when his mom would get a day off that did not need to be spent on catching up on housework, or when his dad would finally show up for more than one day and they could plan a little trip (which would actually take place at least 50% of the time). He remembers the aquarium and the zoo and the natural history museum and Central Park and Coney Island.

And they could absolutely do that, he realises, so the decision is pretty much made before he’s even set his bag down at his desk. But he’s patient enough to wait through the morning meeting - blessedly short, because nothing new has come up anyway, and they’re all told to finish up the paperwork and start on re-organising the evidence room. Jake supposes it’s a generally good thing that crime seems to slow down in the summer heat a little, but that’s not really why he’s so happy right now hearing the captain tell them to ‘find something to do anywhere’. He certainly knows what he wants to do already.

Amy’s morning meeting must’ve been just as short, because she’s already at her desk when he jumps down the last steps of the stairwell to her floor. Her uniformed officers mostly give him a quick nod or smile as he passes - it’s not a rare thing to see Detective Peralta come by to visit his wife outside of break times.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes with fondness. The title is still pretty new, and he loves to remind her of it any chance he gets.

“Hey babe. We’re not due for lunch for another 4 hours, you know that, right?”

“Yeah there’s no way I’m waiting that long.” He’s still smiling wide, and when she looks up from whatever paper she’s been filling out, she instantly recognises that mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are you planning?”

“Let’s bail the kids out of the library and go somewhere fun. Coney Island? It’s all open since last saturday I think.”

“We have to work, Jake.” Amy levels him with one of those ‘please be a grown-up’ looks, but she knows they seldom get results.

“Do we, Ames? Do we really? Because Holt has us organising the evidence room. I have literally zero open cases on my desk. And how far ahead are you with all your paperwork and organisation?”

She looks sheepishly at the very small stack of papers on her desk.

“About two weeks, I’d say.”

“And you’re saying we can’t take one day off? Just one day of family time? Getting cotton candy and taking Mac on an actual roller coaster now that he’s tall enough and winning a new teddy for Maya because you’re an ace at the fake shooting range?” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and Amy stifles a snicker. It’s too bad her husband knows exactly how to win her over for most of his childish endeavours.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to take some personal time right now. We’d still have to convince Holt-”

“On it.” Jake slaps her desk in excitement as he gets up, ready to race upstairs and sweet-talk Holt into giving them the day off (or rather, annoy him into it). Only Amy Santiago would request permission from her boss to play hooky, of course, but there’s no way he’s not going to indulge her.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later that he’s back downstairs, his bag already on his shoulder, almost pulling her out of her chair.

“Got the go-ahead, so let’s go!”

“Give me five minutes at least to brief Gary, and change out of my uniform before I leave.”

He sighs and thrums his fingers across his thigh, but obediently watches her talk to her ‘own Amy’, eagerly taking notes about the few things they actually have to remember to do. He refrains from pushing her forwards by the shoulders as she heads to the locker room, deciding to pack up her purse instead (he knows the layout perfectly by now - the calendar and pen goes next to the baby wipes, and the glasses case has to be by the little box of healthy, kid-friendly snacks). But the moment she returns in one of her signature flowery blouses, he grabs her hand and drags her out of the precinct so fast she can barely protest.

-+-

The drive to the library is equally as quick. Amy only manages to slow him down once they step into the actual building, reminding him of the library rules of being quiet and calm.

“Lieutenant Santiago!” The librarian behind the desk greets her - she’s well-known around these parts, obviously. “Back so early? Isn’t your mother-in-law picking up the kids later?”

He should probably call her to tell her about the change of plans, Jake thinks as Amy explains and asks if it’s possible to get Mac and Maya packed up and ready to leave already.

It’s absolutely possible, of course, and Maya proudly shows them the pipe cleaner and yarn figurine she’d just finished making as the kids librarian leads them out to the main floor. Mac, a few feet behind her, seems wary as he hugs them hello.

“Did something happen?” He asks into the hug, quietly, and Jake remembers with a twinge in his heart that the last time someone picked him up unexpectedly early from football practice, it was aunt Rosa, taking him and Maya to the precinct until Amy brought Jake back from hospital after getting knifed by a perp.

“No, buddy, this is a good surprise.” He hugs him back extra tight, ruffling his hair for good measure, and silently cursing his line of work being so shit sometimes.

Mac smiles back at him, luckily, but there is still a bit of hesitation in his eyes, and Jake’s excitement about his own idea of playing hooky falters for the first time. Maybe they should’ve just let the kids enjoy their crafts and grandma-time, and planned a proper day out for the weekend-

“Grandpa Holt gave us today off.” Amy explains as she steps up to the two of them with Maya by her side, and that title still sounds a little weird even years later. “So we thought we could all go out for a fun day at Coney Island!”

The squeal Maya lets out certainly changes Mac’s smile for the better, even as it is quickly shushed down (they’re still in the library after all!), and they’re soon dragged outside to the car by their kids the same way Jake had dragged Amy out of the precinct.

“C’n we get hotdogs?” Maya asks as she clicks her seatbelt closed and Amy smiles at her through the rearview mirror.

“We sure can!”

“Can we go on all the rides?” Mac joins in, and Jake is glad to see there’s absolutely no hesitation on his face anymore.

“All the ones you’re old enough for, sure.”

The questions and cheers and excited chatter keep up during the whole drive, even as Amy calls Karen and barely gets a word in, between the happy interruptions shouted from the backseat, and it takes a lot more to actually keep them together as they step on the boardwalk, Maya already running left to some game parlour while Mac races on ahead to the first ride he sees.

-+-

The rest of the day does not slow down in their whirlwind. Mac decides after three roller coasters that maybe he’s had enough (and Jake is glad they didn’t go through the food stalls before it), but he spins Maya around in the teacups ride like only an older brother could. The ice cream after is well deserved, seeing how sweaty and exhausted they are already, and gives them more than enough energy to hit literally every game they can see. Jake can watch Amy calculating the vast amount of money they’re spending in tokens, but she’s also the first one in line once they reach the toy-shooting range, winning Maya a unicorn plushie and Mac a knock-off superb-man figurine (his wife is a goddamn sharpshooter and he’d be lying if that wasn’t a turn-on). The third shot earns him a wacky pair of sunglasses that make both Amy and Maya giggle in that way he loves the most, and he refuses to take them off for any of the silly pictures they take in front of cutouts, wall art and weird statues.

He’s pushed them up into his hair by the time they get hotdogs (3 for him, 2 for Mac, one each for Amy and Maya), because the sun is already starting to set and he can barely see. Maya begins to shiver as they stroll down the quieter parts of the boardwalk, so he buys her one of those kitschy animal-hoodies all the stalls are touting (they know their clientele too well), and of course Mac immediately needs one too, so now there’s a tiny tiger and a slightly larger dragon running in front of them with cotton candy sticking all over their hands and faces.

Amy slides her arm around his waist as they slow their steps a little to let the kids go ahead, and he lays his across her shoulder as she leans into him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun playing hooky.” She mumbles, and Jake laughs for a second.

“Amy Santiago, are you telling me you’ve played hooky before? I am shocked. Here I thought I’d married an upstanding girl.”

He gets a soft punch to his side for that before she leans back and whispers.

“Actually, you’ve made me play hooky before, remember? But we didn’t exactly go to an ‘amusement park’…”

“And yet you’re saying this has been more fun. I see where I stand.” He pouts before grinning again, and leans down for a soft kiss. (He definitely remembers the last time they played hooky now.)

“Sorry, babe.” Amy smiles as she looks at Mac and Maya again, currently busy chasing each other and dueling with the sticks left over from their cotton candy. “But this has been such a great day.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna make for one hell of a memory, I hope.” He follows her eyes forward, thinking about that short moment with Mac at the library earlier today. Amy hadn’t heard it, he’s sure, but the look on her face as she pulls him to look at her with a hand on his cheek tells him she knows his thoughts well enough.

“Hey. No sad thinking allowed on such a fun day, okay? We had a great time today and we’re gonna have so many more great days in the future.” She’s still smiling, swiping her thumb across his bottom lip, where he’s sure some cotton candy is still left clinging. “We could take them to the zoo next week.”

“Santiago!” He gasps again. “Are you insinuating-”

“On the weekend.” She leans up to kiss away the last bit of sugar on his mouth. “Like the upstanding girl you married would do, obviously.”

He laughs into the kiss even as he pulls her closer, and it’s only Mac and Maya, running back to them with news of another stand they’ve discovered selling funnel cakes, that makes them break apart again.

-+-

Later, after Jake’s carried a sleepy Maya up to their apartment, and she and Mac have barely had enough energy left in them to brush their teeth and wash their faces free from all the grime and sugar that’s covering it, he falls down on the couch as Amy checks on them one more time to see both fast asleep before the lights are even out.

“Do you feel as tired as the kids?” She says in her deep, sing-song voice that sends goosebumps up his spine, just as much as her hand raking through his hair does as she stands behind the couch.

“Well, it’s been a pretty long day. But I do have more sugar in my system to keep me running, I guess.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but then she leans down to nip on his ear and ‘nonchalance’ is the last thing he’s thinking of.

“Then how about we save time between now and bed by showering together?” She whispers, and he lets his head drop back to actually look at her.

“We have never saved time in the shower together, babe.”

She only smiles at him while humming an M-hm before heading for the bathroom, and he definitely doesn’t waste any time following her.

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #peraltiago #amy santiago #jake peralta #mac peralta #maya peralta #fic #my writing

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ashtcnirwin · 2 years

Note

hi anna happy new year!! i'm making the rounds and i had to drop in to tell you that it's been an honor having you around this past year, whether on tumblr, discord, or whatsapp, sending me your ridiculous typos or discussing various fic-related things or sending pictures of your cat or debating what you should make for dinner or whatever the case may be. if this corner of the internet was a tv show you would absolutely be in the main cast of characters. you are such an interesting, intelligent, thoughtful person, and i feel fortunate to know you and to call you my friend. i hope your new year is wonderful and full of happiness and good things for you and maybe even a better sleep schedule? but if not that last thing then definitely the first ones. i hope you learn to cook something new and exciting!! and just in general i am wishing you a very very happy new year, which hopefully will involve more of mutually being menaces in whatsapp or whatever. love you! xoxo, bella.

oh my god i saw this on saturday and completely forgot to reply to it and now i'm two days on overtime and i am so sorry @clumsyclifford cos this is just,,,,so damn sweet🥺

ah yes, my ridiculous typos. would you believe me if i say that the ones i share only make up about 40% of the (weird/funny) typos i actually make? cos most of the time i just fix them before i think of screenshooting. actually, new 2022 resolution: screenshot every funny typo i make throughout the year and put them all in a masterpost on december 31st!

also, since you mentioned cooking, i feel compelled to mention that i just now made my first actual meal of 2022 and i threw a ton of feta cheese on it even tho feta cheese doesn't really fit in the dish at all. so that's the tone i'm setting for my 2022 cooking endeavours💅 no but that's actually a nice lil goal for the year, learning some new recipes, so i might just put in an effort to do that!

cheers to more mutual menacing and (a very belated) happy new year my dear🧡

#ask #bella

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years

Text

BNHA Ship to Finish the Year

FuyuSei (Todoroki Fuyumi x Iida Tensei)

Canon

I think that they would either meet by Shouto and Tenya or at the hospital.

If it was at the hospital, it would be a chance meeting. Fuyumi is visiting her mom, and Tensei is going to physical therapy. They meet in the lobby and start talking.

Present Mic and Nemuri are the ones who encourage him to ask her out. -PS: None of them knows she is the daughter of Enji yet.- After he does and they date for a few weeks, he shows them a picture, and the two almost have a heart attack. They don't know how to tell him, until Shouta comes along and says it.

If they meet by Shouto and Tenya, it probably would be at a Sport Festival or Cultural Festival. They would start talking, and Nemuri would ask Fuyumi out for him. She says yes, and they exchange numbers.

Imagine if Natsuo is there: "I got the snacks. What's that?" "Oh, a phone number. I have a date this Saturday," "I- I left for five minutes!"

I feel like he would stop by her school every time he can and her students know him as wheelchair boyfriend.

And speaking of wheelchairs, Tensei sometimes feels like he is not enough for Fuyumi. He can't take her dancing or ice-skating.

Fuyumi doesn't care about it. He loves Tensei for who he is, and that is enough for her.

On her birthday, he takes her to see the Winter Illumination events, and even takes her to see ice-sculptors at a festival.

He likes to carry her on his lap and then accelerate with his quirk. He especially does it when the sakura trees are blooming, so it's more romantic.

Also, she sits on his lap when it's hot, since she is always cold.

I don't want to break anybody's bubble but these two one hell of an age gap.

Like Tensei is 31 and Fuyumi is 23.

He is eight years older than her. That's more than Shigaraki and Toga have on each other.

Am I the first one to notice this?

I feel like it should be a big deal. Like when Tensei was eighteen, Fuyumi was ten.

I feel like his parents would make fun of him for that. Calling him a creepy old man.

I also feel, since Tensei appeared in vigilantes, that he has a lot of vigilante friends, and one time, they all meet Fuyumi.

I feel like they would like her more than her boyfriend.

Also, he likes her cooking much more than anything else he has ever eaten before. But don't tell his mom.

Family

There is only one rule that all Todoroki men share and respect: Fuyumi needs to be protected. They don't give a crap if the guy is a retired hero, or the brother of a friend, or in a wheelchair, they won't let him hurt Fuyumi.

The first months of dating, Tensei doesn't feel safe. Like someone is staring at his back with murderous intent. He can't pin-point which Todoroki is, but his money is on Endeavour.

Actually it's all of them. They take turns keeping watch. One time, they all ended doing it at the same time. It was awkward at first, but they found a way to make it work and not kill each other.

Every single Todoroki has threatened him.

Dabi, with the help of Toga, cornered him in an alley and placed him on the floor and stepped on him.

"If you hurt sister, I'm going to finish what Stain couldn't do..."

Natsuo did it during a family dinner. He smiled and at first appeared very polite, but when Fuyumi wasn't there, the smile was gone.

"I am a doctor, you think I don't know how to get rid of you and make it look like it happened naturally?"

Enji went to meet him at his apartment. He knocked on the door asked him a few question. Tensei went along, answering everything politely, and then got the message by the last question.

"How much heat will it take for that wheelchair to melt with you in it?"

Shouto was more surprising. He called Tensei with his brother's phone and only said one thing before he hung up.

"I don't care if you are Tenya's brother's, if you don't make my sister happy, I will end you,"

I feel like Rei wouldn't be okay with the idea until she sees that Tensei is defensless in a wheelchair.

I know it's a bad thought, and Rei knows so, but after everything she went through, you can't blame the woman for it. Her daughter is with a HERO. At least, if he is in a wheelchair, she can do better to survive.

Tenya loves his new sister. He hasn't seen his brother so happy since the accident, and he always wanted a sister.

The Iida's love her.

She is an angel in their eyes. Their son is in such good hands.

I feel like they would have two kids. First a girl Iida Fubuki, a girl, and then Iida Kaen, a boy.

Fubuki has blue hair with white highlights. Her name means blizzard in Japanese and her quirk is that she has engine pipes on her wrist that shoot dry ice.

Kaen has blue hair with red highlights. His name means Flame Thrower in Japanese and his quirk is that he has engine pipes on his ankles that shoot flames.

Neither of them become heroes. I feel like both families give them enough reasons not to follow that career.

Fubuki becomes an ice skater, using her quirk for presentations and speed.

Kaen becomes a musician. A hard, metal punk rocker and uses his quirk for shows. He was closer to Dabi than his sister.

AU - Fantasy AU

So, Fuyumi is a princess. Because, of course, she is.

Tensei is a knight, and he comes from a long line of knights.

One day, her life is threatened by a new rogue called Stain, who is killing off noble families and royals.

Tensei is tasked with protecting the princess at all cost. But it's a harder task than he originally thought.

His job was to stick by the princess side as much as he could, but on his second day, he lost her.

He found her later on a hut on the countryside, teaching young girls how to read and write and other basic knowledge. She wears a disguise, so others don't recognize her. With a tattered dress and a spell to make her hair black, she is unrecognizable.

Tensei doesn't stop her from doing it when he finds out and instead helps her sneak out and helps with the angry sexist man that come around.

It all goes well until Stain attacks.

He ambushes them on the road, and the only reason that they survive is that Fuyu shows Stain she is not like other royals.

As Tensei was trying to protect her and getting in the way, the rogue was going to kill him. But before he can, Fuyumi gets in the way, pleading that he lets Tensei live.

Stain leaves and Tensei and Fuyumi are alright.

When they return to the castle though, Tensei is looked down with dishonour by the rest of the court. He is fired from his job as a knight with the princess, but Fuyumi then hires him back again.

The two continue to spend time together, and all seems happy. But then, Fuyumi is betrothed.

Tensei tries to handle it with dignity since he is only a knight and knew in the back of his mind, that Fuyumi would get married one day. But he is a jealous mess when the fiance arrives.

He follows them around, stops them whenever they get too close and intervenes whenever the man makes a move on her.

Fuyumi, though grateful, has to ask him to stop. Because even if she would prefer it was him, she is marrying, if he angers her fiance, they are going to behead him.

They don't have to worry about it though, because, before the wedding, the lost prince Touya returns and takes the throne.

However, even if Dabi, now the new king, breaks her marriage off with her betrothed, Fuyumi doesn't like how much he is ruling.

The two get in a fight, and Dabi tells her that if she doesn't like it, then she can leave. He won't stop her.

The next day, Fuyumi starts packing. She tells Tensei that he can stay if he wants, he doesn't have to follow her.

Tensei confesses his feelings for her and then starts packing.

They leave a week after and they settle on a farming land where Fuyumi opens a school for girls and Tensei hunts and collects stuff to sell.

Fanon Oponion

So, again, I can't see these two having sex.

I just can't.

I don't know why. And AO3 seems to agree with me since I found 3 where they have sex, and it's not just mentioned.

One was a Fuyubowl, the other was a crackfic, and the last one traumatized me.

For the most part, they are a background couple.

And not in the way Hagakure and Ojiro are a couple where you might find more than 10 fics about them, but as 'we don't want Fuyumi to be alone, so in this fic she is with Tensei.'

I feel like they are underappreciated, especially Fuyumi.

Girl is still holding on after the shitty situation she is in. She is the only sane Todoroki in here.

And poor Tensei. He didn't deserve what happened to him. Stain didn't have a very clear objective.

There's also the fact that not much is known about them.

Like Tensei has not been mentioned since the stain arc.

They are just there...

But people love making next-gen kids with them.

#bnha #mha #fuyusei #todoroki fuyumi #iida tensei #bnha headcanons #canon #family #fantasy au #fanon opinion

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andrew-is-foxy · 4 years

Text

Eat the Cupcake Kevin!

Domestic Andriel and team bonding. 2,976 words. Reference to sexual activity, but nothing explicit. TW: Mention of self-harm scars.

Neil and Andrew didn’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, they made coffees and reheated dinners when they needed them, and they begrudgingly did their dishes, but that was usually about it. Except, the night before, Neil had been in the girls’ room watching a pretty trash movie and there was a scene where a little boy was making cupcakes with his mom, and the girls and Matt had begun reminiscing about baking with their family. Renee had baked with her adoptive mother ever Christmas, Allison had fond memories of her nanny baking traditional Mexican desserts with her when she was really small, Dan was terrible at baking but she loved doing her best with her family whenever she was home, and even Matt had memories of spending time in the kitchen with his parents when he was little. Neil had never even seen cookie dough or cupcake icing not on a cupcake in his life. Neil had ached for his lost and shattered childhood so intensely he’d had to leave the gathering and go back to his room. Andrew could tell that there was something bothering him, but he didn’t press, and Neil didn’t share, but he had woken up the next morning with a really stupid idea.

Which is why he found himself in the small kitchen of his suite that he shared with Kevin and Andrew, surrounded by ingredients and utensils to make cupcakes and feeling incredibly out of his depth. Kevin had woken up first, while Neil had unpacked the shopping, taken one look at the stuff cluttering the countertop and shaken his head, murmuring that he was going to get coffee in Nicky and Aaron’s room and telling Neil to fuck himself. Neil had been undeterred and continued unpacking the groceries, spreading them across the counter in an absolute mess. Andrew surfaced shortly after, pillow creases on his cheek and his blonde hair tangled over his forehead. He stopped dead in the doorway of the hall and glowered at the mess on the kitchen counter. “What the fuck are you doing?” He demanded, lowering his hand from his unruly hair.

“Making cupcakes,” Neil said, sounding more confident than he felt.

“You are making a mess,” Andrew corrected him, still not moving from the doorway, but his eyes lifted to look at Neil. Andrew’s hazel eyes were annoyed and confused, but he was still rumpled from sleep and soft-looking in the pyjama pants he had stolen from Neil that Neil didn’t feel put out by his accusation.

“Most likely,” Neil agreed, “but I was hoping you would help me.”

“You what?” Andrew was still too tired to guard his expression, or maybe he just wasn’t trying because it was Neil, and his eyes went really wide and he took a step back. “What makes you think I know how to make fucking cupcakes?”

“I didn’t think you would, I thought maybe we could try together?” Neil replied easily, rattling a bottle of icing decorations in the air. Andrew looked like he was either going to storm out of the room or burst out laughing and Neil waited to see which it was.

“Why?” Andrew wasn’t laughing, but he wasn’t leaving either.

“Because I’ve never done it before,” Neil replied and chewed the inside of his cheek as Andrew’s weighted look sat heavily on him, knowing there was more to it. “Because people bake shit with their families and stuff and I never got the chance, so I want to now.” Neil looked in Andrew’s eyes, feeling vulnerable and trusting Andrew with it. “I want to bake cupcakes with my family, Andrew.” There was a long pause as Andrew froze, staring at Neil like he had just punched him, before he slowly took a few steps towards the kitchen.

“Fine, I will look up a fucking recipe. You make me coffee,” Andrew said, and Neil felt warmth bloom in his chest. He nodded and when Andrew came into the kitchen, he kissed his cheek. Andrew let him and then batted at him gently to make him go away. Neil started making coffee and left Andrew to sort out the mess on the counter with his new, upgraded phone displaying a recipe for chocolate chip cupcakes. By the time Neil turned around with two cups of coffee, Andrew had measured all the ingredients and packed away the leftovers into the pantry so there was space on the counter to work with. Andrew took the coffee and drank a scalding mouthful, his brow furrowed.

“Have you made cupcakes before?” Neil asked, gesturing at the organisation. Andrew glared at him, swallowed another mouthful and shook his head.

“No, but I can’t work in the clusterfuck you had created,” Andrew said. Neil smiled at him and gestured again, but this time at the phone.

“Okay, what now?” He asked, letting Andrew be in charge of the endeavour. Andrew read the instructions to Neil, his hip propped against the cabinet, ankles crossed, nursing his coffee and Neil did what he said. The only time Andrew stepped into help was with a huff as he took the bowl from Neil to finish mixing the batter before pouring it into the bright orange with white polka dot patty cans Neil had bought. Andrew filled one cupcake tray and Neil filled the other and they put them in the oven at the same time. Neil expected Andrew to leave then, go sit on the beanbag or something, but he didn’t, he stayed and helped Neil clean up their mess and then washed their coffee mugs. They worked in silence, content to be standing side by side as their suite slowly filled with the smell of baking cupcakes, something Neil had never experienced before and even though it smelt sweet, he liked it.

“Come on, we have fifteen minutes still,” Andrew said, tugging on Neil’s waistband.

“Where are we going?” He asked, but there was heat already unfurling in the bottom of his stomach knowingly. Andrew didn’t respond and nearly dragged Neil to the bathroom.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked, his hands on the bottom of Neil’s shirt. Neil nodded eagerly, but still Andrew waited.

“Yes Drew my god,” Neil said and Andrew wrenched the shirt off him. He pulled his own shirt off, peeled his armbands away and tossed them on the sink, and then pulled Neil’s pants off, all without pausing to even kiss Neil. Neil caught his wrists gently, his marred skin familiar to him now, smiling at Andrew and tugged him close.

“Yes or no?” He asked, pressing their foreheads together. Andrew tugged his wrists out of Neil’s grasp and ghosted his hands to Neil’s waist.

“Yes,” he said, voice deep and needy. Neil kissed him gently and Andrew wasn’t having any of that. He pressed forward, hungrily, his fingers tightening on Neil’s skin. Neil put his own hands on Andrew’s waist, spun them so Andrew’s back was to the sink and picked him up, propping him on the porcelain. Andrew grunted into the kiss and shoved Neil away, looking incredibly annoyed. “What the fuck Neil?” He demanded, looking down at his swinging feet as if surprised to find himself up on the basin. He went to hop down, but Neil sidled closer, situating himself between Andrew’s thighs.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” he said and Andrew nodded, burying his hands in Neil’s hair and pulling him back in for kisses. Neil put his hands on Andrew’s thighs and slid them to the waistband of Andrew’s pants, drawing a soft, impatient moan from Andrew.

“Yes or no?” He whispered. Andrew pushed him back, slid from the basin and pulled his own pants down in response. Neil grinned and turned the shower on and Andrew came up behind him, aligning their bodies together and kissing the nape of Neil’s neck. Neil stepped into the shower and Andrew followed, and when Neil turned around to face Andrew, he saw the other man’s pupils blown wide with desire. Neil accepted his advances eagerly and they sank against the wall under the jets of water.

When they resurfaced, soggy and content, they dried off and dressed in loose, comfortable clothes to enjoy the rest of their Saturday. The suite smelt like baked goods and Andrew pulled the cupcakes out of the oven looking mildly surprised that they had actually worked. Neil felt on top of the world as he stared at Andrew holding a tray of cupcakes they had made together and he kissed Andrew firmly with the tray between them. Andrew put the tray down and kissed him back, but only for a moment before he pulled the second tray out. “Are we decorating them now?” Neil asked, feeling nervous that he could ruin them.

“Make the icing while they cool, I’m having a smoke,” he said, opening his phone to the recipe and handing it Neil on the section of the recipe of the icing. Neil did so, but he only got halfway through before Andrew crushed out his barely smoked cigarette and walked back over to the mess. Neil felt a bit sheepish as Andrew smacked his hands away from the bowl and the measuring cup and took over, but he was content to slide his hands around Andrew’s waist and hook his chin over his shoulder to watch. It didn’t take Andrew long to fix the mess Neil had made and when Neil asked if they could make the icing orange, Andrew had rolled his eyes but complied. When they were done icing the cupcakes and decorating them with white and silver hard candy balls, Neil felt like a king, albeit a little embarrassed that he had wanted to do it in the first place. The cupcakes looked a little amateurish, and they definitely looked like Andrew had given up halfway through and watched Neil do his best, but they were edible. Neil picked one up, knowing he probably wouldn’t like something so sweet, but wanting to eat what he had made anyway, and took a bite. It was actually pretty good, a little dry perhaps because they may have been a little distracted and left them in the oven for a little bit too long, but the icing was sweet and helped balance out the texture. He grinned at Andrew, icing on his nose, and took another bite. Andrew shook his head, picking a cupcake up of his own. He didn’t bite into it straight away though, he dipped his pinkie into the icing and reached out to smear it on Neil’s cheek. He didn’t even smile, but Andrew saw the amusement in his eyes as he bit into his own bright orange cupcake.

“Not bad Josten,” he muttered, putting the cupcake down. Andrew began washing up the last of the dishes as Neil finished his cupcake and then arranged most of the cupcakes onto two plates. Andrew scooped the icing off his cupcake when he finished washing the dishes and ate it off his fingers, finally smirking a little as Neil wiped the icing from his face. He ate his cupcake quietly and Neil waited patiently, knowing how particular he was with food. He was just relieved that Andrew was actually eating it. When he was done, Andrew threw their rubbish away and looked down at the two plates. “Are we taking these somewhere?” He asked and Neil nodded.

“Come on,” he said, picking one of the plates up and gesturing at Andrew to do the same.

“I hate you,” Andrew grumbled, picking up his plate.

“I know, I know,” Neil agreed, smiling over his shoulder as he unlocked their door. Andrew detoured to pick up a set of keys, Neil’s, and exited the room with a blank expression, already prepared to face their team. Neil took the keys, locked their door and slid them into Andrew’s back pocket, squeezing just enough to make Andrew shake his head with a hidden smile. Having succeeded, and feeling very satisfied with his morning, Neil led Andrew down the hall to Matt, Nicky and Aaron’s room and knocked loudly. Aaron answered and he looked stupefied by the sight in front of him.

“What the- Andrew are you holding cu…” Aaron swallowed his words and his face split in a rare grin. Before either Neil or Andrew could respond, his hand came up out of his pocket and he snapped a photo of them. Neil put his hand out to his side just in time to stop Andrew from barrelling forward.

“Can we come in?” Neil asked and Aaron stepped aside, still smiling.

“I’m sending this to Dan to stick up in the lounge, “Aaron said, looking down at the picture on his phone.

‘What a what?” Matt asked, not looking up from the game happening on the screen. Kevin and Nicky were playing and Matt was sitting cross legged on the floor watching them, moving with the game as if he was playing.

“Neil and Andrew have brought cupcakes and I took a photo, I’m sending it to Dan,” Aaron said. The game froze with a jab of Nicky’s finger and Kevin complained, but it was cut off by both Nicky and Matt whirling around to look.

“Did you make those?” Matt asked, sounding sceptical. Nicky started howling with laughter the second Neil nodded. Matt grinned and stood, coming over to take the plate from Neil and after a tentative, questioning gesture and nod from Andrew, he took Andrew’s plate as well. He put them down on the coffee table and beckoned them into the room from where they stood in the entrance of the room. Neil gently took Andrew’s arm-banded wrist and pulled him after him into the living room where he sat on the couch behind a still laughing Nicky. He pulled Andrew down onto his legs and his boyfriend crossed his arms across his chest but stayed seated.

“Did you actually send a picture to Dan?” Neil asked, looking at where Aaron was standing near the door. Aaron opened his mouth to answer, but the door was shoved open to reveal the girls standing there, led by Dan whose mouth fell open at the sight of Neil and Andrew on the couch with cupcakes on the table.

“No way!” She crowed, swooping into the room. Matt handed her a cupcake and then took one for himself. Renee came in next and perched on the arm of the chair next to Andrew and Neil and Andrew slid off Neil’s legs, picked up a cupcake and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she said softly and licked a glob of icing off the top.

“Are they poisoned?” Allison asked, crossing the room to sit at a desk chair.

“No,” Neil told her and Renee shook her head. Aaron came around then after locking the door behind the girls and picked two off the plate. He offered one to Allison as he sat down at the desk chair next to her and she gingerly took it off him. Nicky had already eaten one and was covered in icing. Kevin stood from the floor and sat down on the couch, glowering at the mess that was Nicky.

“They’re pretty good,” Matt said, smiling at Andrew and Neil.

“The icing is the best bit,” Aaron added, licking some from his finger. Neil smiled smugly and pulled Andrew back down to his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Andrew made the icing,” he said, knowing he sounded like he was tattling on Andrew. The quiet growl in his throat warned Neil to watch himself, but Neil didn’t have anything more to add.

“They’re not bad,” Allison agreed, folding back the paper to bite into her cupcake again. Dan was staring wide-eyed at Neil and Andrew, her cupcake nibbled on but forgotten.

“Whose idea was it?” She asked.

“Neil’s,” Andrew said quickly, and Neil nodded.

“Well, thank you,” she said, smiling at the two of them. “For sharing them with us,” she added. Neil grinned at her. There was a pause as everyone ate their cupcakes in somewhat stunned silence and Neil felt pride settle over him. He only ever really felt pride on the Exy court, but feeling it for something as menial as baking cupcakes for his friends with his boyfriend was nice.

“Nicky that’s your second cupcake!” Kevin snapped, “do you know how much suga-” Kevin was cut off by a cupcake getting shoved into his open mouth by Nicky. Neil burst out laughing and even Andrew’s shoulders shook with a concealed laugh. Dan and Matt were grinning and Aaron smirked as Kevin spat the cupcake into his hands, licking the icing from his mouth with a disgusted curl to his lips. Allison looked on with glee in her eyes and even Renee’s lips were curled with amusement.

“Shut your cakehole Kevin,” Nicky said, holding the last cupcake in his hand like a grenade ready to be thrown at the enemy. “Eat the cupcake Kevin,” he added, and Kevin narrowed his eyes.

“Eat the cupcake Kevin,” Matt said, his voice deep and serious as Nicky’s had been.

“Eat the cupcake Kevin,” Aaron added on. Allison looked beside herself with joy at the chaos next to him.

“Eat the cupcake Kevin,” she said smugly.

“Eat the cupcake Kevin,” Dan and Renee said at the same time. Neil squeezed Andrew’s waist and he felt Andrew squeeze his arms back.

“Eat the cupcake Kevin,” they said in unison and Kevin turned his narrowed gaze on them.

“Eat the cupcake Kevin!” They all shouted at Kevin and he stared at his team, looking pissed off. Slowly, he peeled the paper from his cupcake, opened his mouth and shoved the entire thing into his mouth until his cheeks bulged, his eyes daring the team to do something like that again.

#andriel #andriel fic #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #fan fic #domestic andriel #soft andriel #foxes #foxes bonding

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imbeccablee · 4 years

Note

HAPPY BIRTH TO OUR LITTLE GREEN FERAL BOI-HC about how his birthday were when he was younger compared to now? (bonus points for Mama Inko being the only constant and for steadily more and more people being at his parties and deku having no idea how to deal with so many people who love him)

oh you KNOW I'm here for that Izuku angst!!! (sorry this is late, I didnt see this until yesterday night lmao)

before Izuku was diagnosed, he would invite katsuki and those other boys over after daycare. it would always be a little awkward bc technically those other boys are more katsuki's friends than Izuku's but their parents made them go anyway bc it was the nice thing to do

oftentimes the rest of the party would end up with the boys playing with Izuku's new toys (which made him a lil upset but his mom says he should share and not be selfish and besides, these are his friends, he wants them to like him, so its whatever. it is) and also playing Heroes (this is the one of the few times Izuku is allowed to play a hero with katsuki (bc theres no way in heck katsuki would play a villain) and Izuku LIVES for it)

usually the other boys will leave and katsuki will spend the night. this is always the best part for Izuku because, while katsuki does keep showing off, it's almost softer in a way, like the fact that it's just the two of them, alone, with the rest of the world shut out makes katsuki relax and unwind. izuku doesnt understand why katsuki isnt like this all the time. he doesnt know how to ask, either.

this of course ends with his fifth birthday. the months following his fourth, he eagerly awaits the arrival of his quirk, but it never shows. a week after his fifth birthday (which had been even more awkward and embarrassing since his quirk still hadn't manifested), he is diagnosed. and, well, nobody wanted to go to his party after that.

the kids thought he was weird and lame and the parents were afraid their own kids would hurt him somehow if they were to come over, because they all believed the quirkless to be weak and fragile. this of course also meant that none of the kids were allowed to invite him over to their parties, the only exception being katsuki's. and then katsuki fell off a log into a shallow river and izuku tried to help him up and, well.

he still invites people, oh yes. the first few years, he makes little invitation cards drawn in all might colors and an enthusiastic "you're invited!" on the front. inko, the sweetheart, helps put them in envelopes and carefully stored them in Izuku's backpack and Izuku passes them out. the first time no one shows, izuku is devastated. the second time, after yet another year of being downgraded and belittled and beaten and ignored, he is still devastated, but he is not surprised. the third time, it aches and aches and aches, and he decides he's not going to make cards anymore. it's just a waste of time and paper.

inko tried so very hard. those first few birthdays After were completely unsalvageable, but after the third (when Izuku accepted no one would come) they got better. izuku was still sad and inko was still guilty, but they always had a lovely time with katsudon and cake and all might specials. sometimes, his dad would even remember to call and wish him a happy birthday. izuku was- well, not happy, but content. he had his mother. he had his conviction, his dream. what else could he need?

(he steadfastly ignored the longing, the ache. nothing he could do would fix it so there was no point in dwelling on it. it was stupid to feel that way anyway. his birthday was just another day of the week, the month, the year. it didnt matter. he shouldnt feel so bad about it. it didnt matter)

he didn't even think about telling all might his birthday. by the time he was 14 going on 15, he didnt really care about it. it had just been a day he got a gift or two from his mother, his favorite dinner, and a night spent rewatching all might documentaries or movies or interviews. you know, like basically every night, but like, older this time. so he doesnt mention it and all might never brought it up, so his 15th birthday comes and goes like every other birthday did after his 8th.

the truth of the matter was all might figured Izuku would mention it at some point during his training, like offhandedly saying he had to get home early so he could have a celebration, or make small talk about what he'd gotten, or even ask for the day off. but Izuku never did and all might felt too awkward to ask when it was (he didnt want to seem too eager to shower young Izuku with presents like something deep inside him begged for with a vengeance, even though he very much wanted to give Izuku literally anything he asked for. it is a troubling feeling), so all might just assumed his birthday hadn't come up yet.

then all might finally gets a look at Izuku's file, since all might is now a teacher, and sees 07/15/XXXX written and probably breaks the speed of sound with how quickly he calls izuku

"why didnt you tell me about your birthday!!" "wh- I mean- it's just not that big of a deal, I didnt think it was-" "NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL???"

he takes Izuku out to a very belated and nice birthday dinner and has to force an incredibly rare piece of decommissioned all might merch from his early days into Izuku's hands. despite his embarrassment and initial reluctance, that day is ranked in the top ten of his favorite days.

izuku doesnt learn his lesson, however, and neglects to tell his newly acquired friends about his date of birth. the only reason they find out is because all might, having been passing them by at the end of the school day, wished him a happy birthday.

"IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY????" "uraraka please its not a big deal-" "I have to disagree midoriya, today should be special!" "I mean, I dont think birthdays are all that important either" "THANK YOU todoroki"

(and then Izuku thinks for 2 seconds WHY Todoroki thinks birthdays are unimportant and gets sad again but we're not focusing on that rn)

ochako DEMANDS that they celebrate bc theres no way in hell she's allowing her best friend to go without a birthday celebration with friends, but Izuku insists that they at least wait until summer vacation starts in less than a week, especially since he cant just come home with three friends without telling his mom

ochakos like >:( for a second, but concedes bc that's fair and then she launches herself at Izuku and gives him a big ole hug and says "happy birthday!!!" izuku's all sputtering and blushing, and then he feels a hand on either arm and Iida and Todoroki give him warm smiles and wish the same and it takes a good five minutes for his face to calm down and for him to come out from behind his arms once Ochako releases him.

so he tells his mom that his friends want to come over to celebrate soon and inko is just like 😭😭😭😭😭 because FINALLY her boy has GOOD FRIENDS who want to CELEBRATE HIM and Izuku freaks out cuz his mom is crying but she waves him off and tells him to tell the dekusquad that they can come over on saturday and that they can spend the night and that they'll have a wonderful time!!!

izuku relays two-thirds of that information in their group chat and they all agree and then basically Izuku is dreading the weekend bc the few birthday parties he's had with his "friends" before hadn't been all that great (besides the sleepover part with katsuki, though their current animosity kinda makes the memories bittersweet), and like, while he knows objectively Ochako, iida, and Todoroki are Much Better than those boys from his childhood, he just doesnt have a good frame of reference for how these things go.

anyway, so Saturday comes around and Izuku is just listlessly lazing around while his mother finishes cooking ("let me help you mom-" "nuh uh, this is for YOUR celebration mister, you arent doing a THING today), and then theres an enthusiastic knock on his door, and when he goes and opens it his friends greet him with yet another cheer of "happy birthday deku/midoriya!!"

izuku smiles because its sweet even if he doesnt particularly care about birthdays, and invites them in. they set their presents on the table and Izuku's like "you didnt have to!!" and Ochako's like "NONSENSE" and Iida is like "how could we show up at your birthday celebration without presents???" and todoroki's like "any chance to spend endeavour's money on things he wouldnt like is a chance I will never not take" and Izuku is just like akdjajdhajsb when his mom finally comes and greets them

and like. it's nice. it's really really REALLY freaking nice. Izuku didnt realize how much he was actually missing having people with him in his home besides his mom until they were there. there's a wonderful warmth filling his chest as they all eat his mother's homemade katsudon and talk about school and how excited they are for the upcoming summer trip. and when heroes come up, they ask him about different quirks and how they work and what he thinks of this hero and that hero and the only time he's interrupted from his tangents is when he stops himself because he's embarrassed for talking for so long. and then they smile and prompt him some more, saying they love hearing him talk about the stuff that interests him, and can anyone really blame him for bursting into tears?

his friends are alarmed but his mom just smiles, tearing up herself, and she asks if he'd like a big hug, and he nods, face burning bright, and then they all gather him in a warm, enveloping embrace, and he wonders how in the hell he survived without this for so long?

he's so warm and loved and for the first time in forever he feels happy during his birthday celebration.

his 16th birthday party is so incredibly different from the parties he held before he was diagnosed and from the birthdays he spent with only his mother. he'd forgotten that feeling of being cared for by people who didnt need to, or rather he'd never really known it. there's a slight twinge that it took so long for him to learn this feeling, but it's completely overshadowed by the pure elation he feels at finally being able to breathe and relax and let himself be loved.

his friends still look concerned and they obviously have questions, but they dont pry as they all continue with the party. he opens their presents and cries again and then they watch a ton of hero movies and he cries a little more. iida worries he'll dehydrate himself and Ochako fuckin loses it and Todoroki has such a soft look on his face and GOD how has Izuku lived without friends? without THEM?

it's late when they turn in, with futons and mountains of pillows and blankets surrounding them on the living room floor. izuku is nestled between Ochako and Todoroki, and he stares at the ceiling as his friends doze around him. he can feel his heart beating in his chest and, with amusement, he feels his eyes watering again, but he blinks the tears away and whispers thickly, "hey guys?" once he gets sleepy questioning murmurs, he breathes in deeply and says, "thank you." in response Ochako and Todoroki schooch closer until they're cuddled on either arm and Izuku can see Iida doing the same on the other end of ochako. then Ochako mumbles, "anything for you, deku" to which the other two boys agree. and Izuku tries to not get choked up and fails again, but its okay, because its safe here and his friends are surrounding him with warmth and love and Izuku falls asleep happy.

(their second year they have another party, of course, but this one is bigger, with the whole class. it's in the dorm, which is fine bc he doesnt think his mom's apartment could hold all of them. it's just as wonderful as his 16th birthday. he managed to hold his tears back during nearly the entire thing, and the only reason he broke was because katsuki came up to him with a perfectly wrapped box, because everything katsuki does is perfect, and shoved it into his hands with a growled well wishes. katsuki yells at him and the class laughs good heartedly as he weeps, but Izuku is just focused on katsuki, who looks soft and relaxed and nearly identical to the version of him that Izuku saw so, so long ago. and as Izuku thanks him for the present and katsuki berates him cuz "you dont even know what it is yet you idiot open it already", izuku feels a new happiness bubbling up in him, because he's so incredibly glad katsuki has been able to heal as well)

#boku on hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #deku #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #todoroki shouto #happy birthday to my beloved son #whom i love with all my heart

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skgway · 4 years

Text

1832 Nov., Mon. 5

7 3/4

11 1/2

Damp morning, recent rain Fahrenheit 49 1/2º at 7 3/4 a.m. Breakfast with my father at 8 3/4 – Shewed him the coal plan – Came up to my room at 10 – Made notes of my fathers conversation respecting the coal –

Charles Howarth came – Settling with him when at 11 Miss Walker’s servant brought a basket of grapes etc. for my aunt, and note to me and the note that ought to have said yes or no. I opened it in agitation little e[x]pecting to find it a mere evasion and all between us as undecided as ever. This note shall be copied into this journal by and by, vid[e] bel[ow], I must now be off to see herself, and at any rate will behave handsomely –

Off to Lidgate at 11 10/.. – Rained all the way – There in 1/2 hour – a Mr. Outram (Ootram came almost immediately afterwards about atacama lama-hair cloaks at 20 /. [shillings] a yard, narrow broad cloth width, and staid about an hour. The last cloaks were only 12 /. [shillings] a yard but he had paid double for the material, and the next would be still dearer –

At 2 3/4 Mrs. Dyson and her son Thomas called for 1/4 hour – She was nervous when we met, but I looked calm and we soon got on tolerably. We kissed and she was affectionate as usual, as far as I would let her. But tho my manner was at intervals cheerful and playful, yet I would not go on quite as usual and consequently never attempted to touch her queer or anything of that kind as I am convinced I might have done.

I returned the purse with the yes at one end and the no at the other just as she had sent it, saying I could not leave to the decision of chance what ought only to be decided by her own heart. She felt the force of this remark. We both got attendees, and she begged me to give her a little more time. As I would not let her answer then in the affirmative, she said she could not say no and did not expect that I should have taken her note in that sense, as I told her I had done and thought it better to do.

Saying that I had thought of being off as soon as possible but promised her more time, for which she thanked me. And said I would stay then till after my rent day on the second of January, begging however that she would not require longer than the first of January for her decision, which she promised.

I explained that she really was wrong in putting the thing as she had done. That a proud and honorable spirit could never brook such a strange trusting to chance. But here is the copy of her memorable note

‘I send the promised note for your perusal and correction. I have endeavoured to express myself in the most gentle and delicate manner possible and rather to imply than say what I really mean it is a most difficult note to write. And had it been possible, I would rather have been silent for the present, until grief had become more subdued, for I would not willingly inflict any additional pang upon one who is already so great a suffer. Nevertheless I must not compromise my own dignity and I feel that letter ought not to have been written to me. I find it impossible to make up my own mind. For the last twelve months I have lived under circumstances of no common moment, and with my health impaired, and with vivid regrets of the past, I feel that I have not the power fairly to exercise my own judgement. My heart would not allow me to listen to any proposal of marriage and this is in effect the same. I would simply go on and leave the event to God, and on these grounds I once thought of asking if you would act upon your original intention and consent for us to travel together for a few months. Again I feel this unfair to you. I promised an answer, and I am at your mercy. I have written the words on a slip of paper and put them in the purse. I have implicit confidence in your judgement and if you still think it better to decide today the paper you draw out first must be the word, or if you prefer, let your good aunt draw, and then we neither of us decide. You may think this an evasive termination of my promise. Forgive me, for it is really all I can say. Having heard you say that in one case I must give you up as a friend, I find myself as incapable of consenting to this as I am for deciding under my present feelings what is to be my future course of life. Whatever may be the event, I shall always remain your faithful and affectionate AW.

I fear this will scarcely be at Shibden Hall by eleven o’clock but there was a mistake about the grapes being sent’

Was I right to take this as a no? At all rates I told her I took it so, and took the purse folded in the paper as she had sent it and sealed it up in another paper with the seal she usually uses and just wrote on the back ‘Mon[day] five November eighteen hundre[d] and thirty two’, saying 'If you mean yes, take out the papers and send me the purse again'.

I told her I had not been prepared for her note of this morning either by her note of Saturday or by her last words to me on Friday (she hoped we should meet again under happier circumstances) or by the lock of hair she had given. She said well she had thought of this. She would not have given it to anyone else! And who, said I, could have asked it?

I said I could not now go back to my original intention. It was too late. She had misled me, however at unawares, tho I did not blame her. It was an unlucky inadvertence that had led to all our present difficulties. There had been too many endearments and too great a tie between us for me to go back to what I had been. Thus I have tacitly put an end to our travelling together so long as she is undecided.

Why should I confine and gener myself probably for nothing? No. No. Better an end of it at once. Her friendship would be an useless pother. And Steph’s prudence not to recommend too hastily the going abroad was, as he said, better for me. But she said she could not now stay at home to be pothered with Mr. A[insworth]’s letters and be without protection.

She would gladly enough travel with me now. But why run the risk of spending my time and money for nothing. I shall be better without her. I can take Eugenie and go and live in a cottage near Grenoble and study and improve myself and save my money.

Proposed, which Miss W[alker] readily adopted, an alteration in the conclusion of her letter to Mr. A[insworth]. To say, that as she had always so good an opportunity of hearing of him thro Miss Bentley all her inquiries would be addressed to her. Thanked him for his kindness to her during the life of her much lamented friend and said nothing would give her more heartfelt satisfaction than to be able to be of use to him in any the smallest instance. Remain very truly and sincerely yours.

Advised her about her coal lease to Hinscliffe and other business – Asked when I should see her again. She said Wednesday. Would not ask Tuesday, as it might now be too much, and Miss Harriet Parkhill is coming on Thursday. Asked me to breakfast on Wed[nesday]. Excused myself saying that would be too much like what used to be, which it would be best for both of us to get off as soon as we could.

She has never been able to eat anything solid since Friday, but said she was quite another creature after seeing me. What will it end in? On leaving her I repeated to myself, ‘Come nerve yourself up and never mind’ and on getting home said ‘Well, it is an arrow and perhaps a lucky escape. Thank God for all his mercies.’ –

Prepared my clothes for the wash. Dinner at 6 3/4 – Afterwards till 9 1/2 wrote all but the first 6 lines of today – Much the better for it – My mind more composed – I have asked myself once or twice 'is this a sort of spell breaker'? Should she even say yes at last, should I value it as much as if it had come more freely? ‘Had it been earlier it had been kinder.’ Better be an end of it at once?

Went into the little room at 9 40/.. – Came to my room at 10 35/.. at which hour Fahrenheit 49º – Rainy day but fine evening – Fine and moonlight as I returned from Lidgate tho’ more rain afterwards –

#anne lister code breaker #anne lister #ann walker #shibden hall 1832

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wasalwaysagreatpickle · 3 years

Text

Saturday 10 May 1834

6 50/..

12 10/..

Very fine morning Fahrenheit 54 1/2˚ at 7 3/4 a.m. in my study – out at 7 3/4 with one or other till near 10 – then wrote and sent at 11 by Matthew going to Miss Walker 1 page and ends of outside envelope of my letter and the other letters to ‘Miss Walker, Heworth Grange, York’ to say Joseph was just returned from Lidgate, the little girl had not had a good night, but was better this morning and Mr Robinson said there was no danger but she would be well in a few days – I therefore begged Miss Walker not to alarm herself or Sarah – Matthew to go by the Highflier at 12 –

Then wrote the following ‘Miss Lister is very much obliged to Mr Parker to the catalogue of Miss Currer’s library – the catalogue is very well done, and very interesting, and Miss Lister returns it with her but thinks, and hopes Mr Parker will be so good as excuse her having inadvertently kept it so long – Shibden Hall, Saturday morning, 10 May 1834’ to ‘Robert Parker Esquire’ – enclosed my note with the catalogue (large octavo), to Robert Parker Esquire, The Square’ and sent it by Joseph who went with Matthew to the coach to bring the young horse back he rode upon –

Packed up the things for Miss Walker and had all off at 10 55/.. at which hour breakfast – had Mr Washington almost immediately – told him Joseph Wilkinson had changed his mind about selling the field William Green’s cottage stands in, and was going to build in the top part of it – told Mr Washington merely to be on the look out, and if any building ground was to be sold there to get somebody to buy it for me – to be 1st conveyed to him (for if Joseph Wilkinson knew it was for me, he would not let me have it at any reasonable price) and then secondly to me – It was Samuel Holdsworth told Samuel Washington he could buy the Upper Brea coal at £10 per days work – had had it offered several times – not much dependence to be placed on Samuel Holdsworth –

Out again at 12 for above an hour – then asleep an hour in my study – then wrote and sent, by William Green at 3, the following to ‘Messers Parker and Adam solicitors, Halifax’ ‘Shibden Hall, Saturday 10 May 1834 – Sir I am much obliged to your note – as it does not suit Mrs Scatchard’s convenience to wait till after Friday, I would rather let the matter remain as it is – William Green is the bearer of the conveyance made to him by Mr Joseph Wilkinson – he (William Green) agrees to sell me his 2 cottages under one roof for one hundred pounds – Be so good as get the purchase deeds ready for signing as soon as you can – I am, Sir, etc. etc. etc. A Lister’ –

Joseph had brought me on his return from taking the note and parcel to Mr Parker a note from Mr Adam, to say, he (Mr Parker) had been from home this week but was expected home tomorrow – that Mr Stansfield had called on the part of Mrs Scatcherd ‘to endeavour to make some arrangement for the giving up possession of the Northgate house estate – I understand her proposal to be to give up the possession of the whole of the property on the 1st day of November next whether or not it be sold, and that the arrangement shall be agreed upon before Friday next’ – ‘there have been many applications to see the plan of the estate etc.’ – I do not expect to sell the property, supposing that my reserve bidding (10/. per yard = £10180+ or, if sold in the lump, £10000) will be too high – therefore I do not want to hurry about taking the remainder of Mrs Scatcherd’s lease which will expire 1 May 1836 – It would be difficult to let the house merely for 18 months, and by that time or there abouts I shall be ready to put up the property in lots –

In and out from 3 to 6 20/60 dinner at 6 1/2 – having had Pickells and his 2 men set out the railing between my father and Mr Carr, and ordered Pickells and his men and Charles Howarth’s nephew Carter to begin it the 1st thing on Monday morning – Joseph Booth waited on me at dinner 1st time –

Coffee – wrote the 1st 20 lines of today – then with my father and Marian and talking to the latter till near 10 – John had expressed to her the inconvenience of his leaving Conery for anywhere in township that his son John (aetat 10) might go free to Hipperholme school, to fit him to be educated at the gardener’s school at Leamington as as regular and upper gardener – Convinced Marian of his folly, but said I should save by it, and would from that moment give up the thought –

40 minutes with my aunt till 10 35/.. – she much better today – very fine day Fahrenheit 55˚ now at 11 p.m. –

#anne lister #anne lister code breaker #ann walker #1834

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Saturday 10 May 1834

6 50/..

12 10/..

Very fine morning F54 ½° at 7 ¾ am in my study – out at 7 ¾ with one or the other till near 10 then wrote and sent at 11 by Matthew going to Miss W- 1 page and ends of outside envelope of my letter and the other letters to ‘Miss Walker Heworth Grange, York’ to say Joseph was just returned from Lidgate, the little girl had not had a good night but was very better this morning and Mr Robinson said there was no danger but she would be well in a few days and I therefore begged Miss W- not to alarm herself or Sarah. Matthew to go by the Highflier at 12 - then wrote the following ‘Miss Lister is very much obliged to Mr parker for the catalogue of Miss [Currer’s] library - the catalogue is very well done, and very interesting, and Miss Lister returns it with her best thanks, and hopes Mr Parker will be so good as excuse her having inadvertently kept it so long - Shibden Hall Saturday Morning 10 May 1834’ to ‘Robert Parker Esquire’ - enclosed my note with the catalogue (large 8vo) to Robert Parker Esquire the square’. Packed up things for Miss W- and had all off at 10 55 at which hour breakfast – Had Mr Washington almost immediately – told him Joseph Wilkinson had changed his mind about selling the field William Green’s cottage stands in , and was going to build in the top part of it. Told Mr W- merely to be on the lookout, and if any building ground was to be sold there to get somebody to buy it for me - to be 1st conveyed to him (for if Joseph W- knew it was for me, he would not let me have it at any reasonable price) and then 2ndly to me. It was Samuel Holdsworth told SW he could buy the upper brea coal at £10 per DW - had had it offered several times - not much dependence to be placed Samuel H- out again at 12 for above an hour - then asleep an hour in my study - then wrote and sent by William Green at 3, the following to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam Solicitors H-X’ ‘Shibden Hall Saturday 10 May 1834 - Sir I am much obliged by your note - as it does not suit Mrs Scatcherd’s convenience to wait till after Friday, I would rather let the matter remain as it is - William Green is the bearer of the conveyance made to him by Mr Joseph Wilkinson - he (W. Green) agrees to sell me his 2 cottages under one roof for one hundred pounds. Be so good as get the purchase deeds ready for signing as soon as you can. I am sir, etc etc A Lister’ Joseph had brought me on his return from taking the note and parcel to Mr Parker a note from Mr Adam, to say he (Mr Parker) had been from home this week but was expected home tomorrow - that Mr Stansfield had called on the part of Mrs Scatcherd ‘to endeavour to make some arrangement for the giving up possession of the Northgate house estate. I understand her proposal to be to give up the possession of the whole of the property on the 1st day of November next whether or not it be sold, and that the arrangement shall be agreed upon before Friday next’ - ‘there have been many applicants to see the plan of the estate [?]’ - I do not expect to sell the property, supposing that my reserve bidding (10/ per yard = £10180+ or, if sold in the lump, £10000) will be too high - therefore I do not want to hurry about taking the remainder of Mrs Scatcherd’s lease which will expire 1 May 1836. It would be difficult to let the house merely for 18 months, and by that time or thereabouts I shall be ready to put up the property in lots. In and out from 3 to 6 20 - dinner about 6 ½ - having had Pickells and his 2 men and set out the railing between my father and Mr Carr, and ordered Pickells and his men and Charles H-‘s nephew Carter to begin it the 1st thing on Monday morning. Joseph Booth waited on me at dinner 1st time - coffee – wrote the first 20 lines of today – then with my father and Marian and talking to the latter till near 10. John had expressed to her the inconvenience of his leaving Conery for anywhere in township of Hipperholme that his son John aetatis 10 might go free to Hipperholme school to fit him to be educated at the Gardener’s school at Leamington as a regular and upper gardener. Convinced Marian of his folly, but said I should save by it, and would from the moment give up the thought - 40 minutes with my aunt till 10 35 she much better today – very fine day F55° now at 11.

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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 2.1}

*Severus Snape x OC*

General warnings: professor x student (however no underage romance), blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The end of Robin's first year at Hogwarts had come sooner than expected. She had done fairly well in all of her exams, even defense against the dark arts, despite her previous concerns. After the incident in March, Professor Morgan actually had as good as ignored her for the remainder of the school year, and merely given her grades slightly worse than she believed she deserved. Nothing out of the ordinary, and the same could be said for the other subjects. She had made efforts however, since that night, to become better in charms, and it had paid off in terms of both grades and knowledge. It still hadn't sufficed to beat herbology, leave alone potions, but she felt comfortable with more spells than she had learned in class, and that ought to be enough.

Thus, when summer had finally forced Robin to return home to her parents' house, she had actually felt content with her overall progress of the past year, but also desperately ready for a break in all the learning.

That sentiment however had lasted for a mere week, and without the possibility to borrow books from her favorite potions professor, Robin soon had found the necessity to find other methods to keep herself busy, and distract herself from missing school. Those methods mainly had entailed sitting in on summer classes at the university her parents worked for, and while a twelve year old wasn't really the intended audience for any of those classes, Robin had been surprised to find that she actually had understood quite a lot of the entry level subjects. Thus her summer had been filled with classes on history, cultural studies and art –which had turned out to be more about architecture than about art after all– and she had learned a lot while yet being systematically excluded from everything not class related by both the regular students and the professors. Her parents hadn't been any better, as they had been working day in day out as always, ignoring her as always, saying "that's nice, sweetie" as always.

Only upon her return to Hogwarts for the beginning of her second year, Robin had actually felt like she belonged once more. Both the castle and the landscape gave her a feeling of finally being able to breathe again, after a long time of existing in a room with too little air. Sure, seeing her parents had been nice to some degree, but only at Hogwarts did she actually feel like a person of value again. At her parents house, she was an asset in a game that wasn't hers to play. At Hogwarts however she was Robin, and the master of her own fate. Even if to the others she was still the muggle born Slytherin who spent more time with her books than with her peers.

And just like that, she happily threw herself back into her classes and assignments, picking things right back up where she had left off last term.

The members of her study group started talking about their O.W.L.s and about fairly little else quite early on, and Robin soon found herself annoyed by them more than she appreciated their company. Thus she started to spend more and more time studying by herself instead, and eventually also eating by herself as well. Unlike last year, she actually didn't mind not having a permanent group, or anything that came even close to friendships. There was always someone she could sit with, should she choose to do so in the first place, even if that someone was only a brief acquaintance from one of her classes.

Her habit of borrowing books from Professor Snape had to her great luck survived the summer, and right after the first class of the term he had dropped a thick tome about preserving and properly storing different kinds of ingredients on her desk. Not the most interesting read, admittedly, but she would gladly take anything she got. It was still better than those books in the library that all basically said the same thing with different words. She found herself wondering more than once if perhaps they had all been writing by the same person, under different synonyms.

Thus for the following weeks in potions class, whenever they weren't actively brewing anything in particular, Robin would read in that book instead of listening to a lecture about some thing she'd known for half a year already, and to her surprise Professor Snape hadn't complained nor given her an odd look for it even once. Robin soon had realized that they might just have come to the silent agreement that she would learn more if she stuck to her books for now. Well, his books, but nobody needed to know about that. It was an unspoken agreement between them to keep this arrangement to themselves, as well as the quite good terms on which they were with each other at this point. Well, 'good' in Snape's terms at least, which meant that he mostly just let her be for the duration of class and she asked any questions she might have about her reads afterwards.

Eventually this habit, and this particular book especially, had led Robin to discover what she would put into the locket she had been wearing ever since the previous Christmas: a branch of dried dittany. Admittedly, fitting an entire branch into a locket of less than the size of her palm might have posed a problem, had Robin not done her research properly and come across a spell that allowed her to expand the space within the locket to a much greater size than the outside would let on. A simply extending charm, really, but very useful as she found. That only had left one issue remaining, and after having a frank conversation with Professor Sprout (whose favor Robin had gained last year by being the only Slytherin student who actually cared about herbology), Robin had been indeed allowed to take a branch of dittany from the greenhouse. In the week following upon that, she had carefully followed the instructions in the borrowed book and dried the plant while (hopefully) preserving all its qualities, therefore turning her nightstand into the best improvised laboratory she could manage.

At the end of her efforts, she'd actually been quite proud of the outcome, and that is exactly why she had kept the whole endeavour to herself and simply had gone back to wearing the locket every day like she used to, only that now it hid one of the finest healing plants the country had to offer. She'd have to see if she could get her hands on dried mandrake too, at some point. But for now, the dittany would do.

______________

The peace and quiet of her life at Hogwarts lasted for exactly two and a half months after term had started, right up to the point when Professor Morgan decided that it was time to mess with Robin once again. Honestly, while she hadn't really seen it coming this time either, she had indeed known that he eventually would start causing her problems again. And it just happened to be a lot sooner than she expected.

"Miss Mitchell!" His exaggeratedly cheerful voice brought Robin to an immediate halt, and an immediate spark of panic to her heart. It was Saturday night this time around, but yet again right after dinner and in the emptiest and dark hallway Hogwarts had to offer outside of the dungeons. Robin was spotting a scheme here.

"Professor Morgan…" Robin half sighed and half stated as she turned around to face the man in question. After over a year of having to listen to way too many girls fawning over him, she still couldn't understand how anyone could seriously and in good conscience consider this sleazy individual handsome.

"What a strange déjà vu to be having… Feels like it was ages ago that you messed up my classroom." He smiled innocently and shook his head to himself.

"Funny, to me it seems like just yesterday." Robin replied with the most neutral face she could manage.

"Ah, you and your… witty… remarks, how I have -not- missed those over the summer…" He sighed and raised his chin for a moment, peering down at her over the bottom rim of his reading glasses, which he wore only whenever he wanted to look particularly authoritative. Or that's what Robin thought, at least.

"What is it you would like from me this time, sir?" She asked as calmly as possible, while her hands were getting clammy again nonetheless and she had to resist the urge to wipe them on her trousers. That would've been a dead tell of her anxiety, and she didn't want him to see any of it at all.

"You will assist me in class on Monday. I will be demonstrating a spell that seeks out the other's deepest truths. Much like that famous potion, actually, what's it called again…"

"Veritaserum?" Robin suggested with a frown, keeping her face otherwise neutral while her anxiety went through the roof. He seriously wanted to force her to speak whatever truth in front of the entire class by using magic?! Was that even allowed?

"Exactly! However what I intend to show to the class is called legilimency."

"Never heard of it…"

"That is because it is not commonly taught at this institution."

At that, Robin's heart started beating even faster in nervousness. "But… then why would you teach it to us now, sir? And- and why do you need to demonstrate it on me, out of all people?"

Professor Morgan let out a small snort in return. "I'm not teaching it to you, don't be ridiculous… I'm merely using it to demonstrate something. And I chose you to demonstrate it on, because you are an obvious choice. You were so very intent on your honesty and truthfulness last year that I see no reason as for why it should bother you to speak the truth yet again."

"What if I don't want to assist you?" Robin asked quietly, with a lump in her throat that simply refused to be swallowed down, and her only hope was that the darkness of the hallway hid the fear in her eyes at least.

"Well, I would absolutely hate to force you to do it, Miss Mitchell, but I'm afraid you have no choice." He smiled sweetly, with just a touch of feigned sympathy. "Don't worry, it will be over in a blink."

"But-"

"You see, I told you about this beforehand because I came to realize that troublesome young children such as yourself need a role model for their actions, if we ever want something to become of them." He said with another self sufficient sigh, looking around the hallway as if dwelling in the righteousness of his own statement. "I believe one day in the very distant future you will thank me for every lesson I teach you now. So consider yourself lucky that I allow you to participate in this… lesson."

"Yes, sir." Robin gave back in a neutral tone, while her insides however were both on fire and frozen over at the same time. This was Morgan's late revenge for what had happened last term, it had to be… He'd waited until she felt safe, only to strike now. Petty move, honestly… and still Robin felt sick to the stomach.

"Very well!" Morgan was back to cheery. "I will see you in class on Monday. Have a lovely rest of the weekend." Without wasting another glance on her, he turned on his heel, clasped his hands behind his back nonchalantly and walked off into the direction of his classroom.

Robin however remained standing in her spot for a little while longer, heart beating frantically while a cold rush of adrenaline washed over her body in the most uncomfortable manner. Bloody hell, that man scared her more every time she had to interact with him, and it had only gotten exponentially worse since the detention incident. Tears started stinging in her eyes upon the mere thought of going to class on Monday, but she obviously didn't have much of a choice. Even if she found a reason to avoid class on Monday, he would just come at her with the same threat the next class or the one after that, and she couldn't avoid defense against the dark arts classes for the next five years to come. She also didn't want to, she actually liked the subject. It was only Morgan that she despised.

As the adrenaline slowly decreased and made room for rational thoughts once more, Robin also rediscovered her ability to move. Without even having to think about it, her feet carried her down to the dungeons and right to Professor Snape's office. Yet once she was about to knock on his door, her fist stilled mid-air as she finally paused to think. This wasn't a good idea… well, sure, he had told her to find him if she ran into any problems with Professor Morgan, but then again… she really didn't want a repetition of last time. More so for his sake than for her own. Also, she couldn't just come bursting into his office like the frightened idiot she was, hoping to be shown an easy way out of this the very second she asked for it. No, if she was to drag him into this again (and that was a big IF still) she better come to him with a plan already at hand.

Robin pulled her hand back and dropped it to her side with a sigh, then walked backwards until her back gently touched the cold wall on the opposite side of the hallway. What on earth was she even doing… She was a second year student, and Professor Morgan was… well, a professor. A bloody bad one, to her luck, but still… what kind of chance did she stand against him? Especially in regards to a spell that she hadn't even heard about, leave alone knew how to read up on if it wasn't something she was even supposed to learn about in the first place. She wasn't brave enough to go into the restricted section of the library, and the open one only had books appropriate for standard school topics. She couldn't refuse to partake, couldn't use any sort of shielding spell against him… Hell, if he'd just give her good old veritaserum, at least she would know what she was in for. There even were antidotes for that stuff! Actually… Morgan had said that the spell was rather similar to veritaserum. Robin crossed her arms over her chest and started pacing up and down the hallway, passing by the door again and again on each way.

Maybe… maybe she could make the antidote to veritaserum, and take it before class on Monday. Did that help against legi… what was it again? Gosh, she really couldn't concentrate whenever her anxiety got the better of her. And remembering technical terms wasn't all that high on her list of priorities when she was fighting with blind panic on the inside and not showing any of it on the outside. It was an unfair battle, really…

Antidote. Yes. It could work, it had to… it was the best plan she had. Again she walked by the office door, and right past it towards the end of the hallway yet again. How was she supposed to get the recipe for that antidote though? Or the necessary ingredients?! Making veritaserum itself was a rather advanced procedure, and even if Robin was far ahead of her class, she wasn't that good, not even close. The antidote would require even more precision and knowledge. Robin turned around once she reached the end of the hallway, and headed back into the opposite direction. She couldn't do it alone, couldn't do it at all maybe. But she also couldn't just sit by and do nothing while Professor Morgan would make her blurt out every secret she has ever had in class on Monday. Bloody hell…

"Will you stop pacing and come in already?" Snape's deep voice brought both Robin and her thoughts to a sudden halt. She froze in her step and finally lifted her gaze off the floor to see him standing in the doorway a mere two steps to her right, giving her that trademark pretending-to-be-annoyed frown.

Heat rose to Robin's face immediately, and she felt both embarrassed and relieved as he turned to the side to make room for her to enter.

"I'm sorry, sir, I just… I didn't want to bother you." Robin finally remembered to speak, as she sat down in the by now familiar chair across from his own.

"Now that you did, you might as well tell me the reason for it." He replied calmly as he took his own seat with an expectant expression. Robin held his gaze for a moment, then let her eyes wander around the room like she always did, until something caught her sight.

"The small jar with the green liquid in the third shelf from the bottom, second from the right… it stood on the second shelf from the bottom, last time I was here." She said quietly, before she could really convince herself not to. It was a stupid observation, without any meaning probably, but saying this was easier than answering his question.

Professor Snape's frown deepened as he followed Robin's line of sight, before it vanished and his eyebrows rose up high as ever. "It would indeed appear that it was… misplaced."

"Now or then?"

"Why are you here, Miss Mitchell?"

Robin looked down at her hands, as they were nervously fiddling with the edge of her grey jumper on their own accord. Darn it… she didn't even have any real reason to keep secrets from him anymore. He'd seen her cry, seen her desperate and seen her being a complete dunderhead. Snape was probably the only person in Hogwarts she had ever been entirely honest with in the first place, and when she thought about it, she had no intention to change that now.

With a still fragile certainty, she looked up to meet his eye again. "I'm here because I need the instructions for a potion."

His eyebrows lifted even higher, and he almost looked amused once again, but seeing as Robin herself didn't smile even remotely, the brief expression vanished in a blink. "Which potion?"

"The antidote for veritaserum."

"Why, pray tell, do you believe I would simply give it to you?"

"I do not."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I had to try nonetheless." There was no insecurity in her voice, which surprised her a little, but it didn't come unappreciated. This was a serious matter to her, and he might as well know that. At least he hadn't straight up denied her request and thrown her out of the office already.

Instead his eyes narrowed and he sat up a little straighter as he seemed to grasp the gravity the issue held for Robin. "Why do you need that antidote so desperately that you risk asking for it so boldly?"

"Self-preservation." As he merely gave her a look in return, she added, "I was asked to assist in a class on Monday."

"And that justifies your request because…?"

"It's Professor Morgan's class." Robin's voice went down in volume by more than she intended, but she couldn't care less because Snape's face showed an immediate expression of understanding, then question, and irritation at last.

"I see. What did he say to you, exactly?" He asked a bit too darkly for it to be nonchalant or even neutral, and Robin felt an odd sense of relief to see him still disliking the defense against the dark arts professor as much as she did. She only could've hoped that he had not changed his mind since March, and obviously he hadn't. So far so good.

"He said he wants to demonstrate a spell on me that reveals my deepest truths, and that the spell reminded him of veritaserum. Well, actually, I suggested veritaserum as a comparison because he couldn't remember the name." Robin shrugged and Professor Snape rolled his eyes theatrically, but Robin got the impression that it wasn't directed at her as much as at Morgan.

"Did he say which spell?"

"He did, but…" Robin bit her bottom lip for a second, reminding herself that he had indeed seen her panic before and there was no reason to not tell him about another instance now. "He did say which spell, however I… was too busy not dying over anxiety to pick it up and remember what it's called exactly." The annoyance she had expected to see on his face didn't come, which pushed her to continue on. "But I remember that it's something that's not taught at Hogwarts. He doesn't want us to learn it, just… just demonstrate it himself for some reason. I believe it started with an I or an L… I'm sorry, sir, I honestly don't remember. I should have though, I know…"

Oddly enough, Snape's reaction still was none of annoyance, but he rather stared right past Robin, lost in thought. Had her information not been completely useless after all? Anyway, she almost felt calm now that she had opened up to him about the situation. At least she wasn't alone with it anymore; someone knew of her concerns and actually took them seriously. That was a huge step towards getting out of this entire thing relatively unharmed. Her heartbeat slowed down significantly, and she didn't feel sick anymore. Good… Now, that other jar also had-

"Miss Mitchell?"

"Huh?" Her eyes snapped back to her professor and her cheeks gained in colour once again. She really needed to stop zoning out whenever she was in his office… Snape however kindly ignored her flustering and went right on as if nothing had happened in the first place.

"Was what Professor Morgan mentioned by any chance titled 'legilimency'?"

"Yes!" She blurted right out, eyes widening a little in surprise that he had actually been able to make any use of her poor information. "Exactly that!" The look she received in return however made her wish she hadn't answered all that enthusiastically, as it sent a chill down her spine in an instant.

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes, yes I am… Why? What kind of spell is that, professor? Why are you asking like that?" She asked in an almost insecure manner now, but didn't receive an answer as he got up and went to retrieve a book from one of the shelves in the far corner of the room. After flipping through the pages for a moment, he turned the open book around and handed it to Robin before moving to sit back down in his chair in silence.

Robin scanned the page to get the overall gist of it, and her eyes widened in sheer horror at every word she read. At last she placed the book on the desk between them and simply stared at Professor Snape in both shock and fear. Morgan wanted… and he really was forcing her to… no!

"That is why I'm asking like that." Snape sounded almost as displeased as Robin felt, even if he had no reason to in her eyes. She was glad that he shared the sentiment nonetheless.

"Can't… Is that… Is that even allowed?" Robin's voice was but a whisper, a plea almost to whoever would hear, to at least make this wrong.

"The use of veritaserum on students has… unfortunately been prohibited, however I'm not aware of any such rules regarding legilimency. As it seems, the ministry has as of yet turned a blind eye to it."

"And… and the headmaster?"

"Will hardly see a fault in a mere demonstration of the subject. He has always been quite… liberal."

Robin's face fell even more, and she stared down at the words on the page in front of her as they began swimming together slowly. Then however she frowned at a different issue. "Professor… It may be completely stupid of me to say, but… this spell does not sound like anything I know about veritaserum. I mean, sure, it both reveals the truth in a way, but if I understand correctly, this… is more than just a means to finding out the truth. It's a hellfire being compared to a match. Which leads me to believe that –and I do apologize for being so direct about this– Professor Morgan either has no idea about this spell, even though it falls into his supposed area of expertise, or he doesn't know a thing about even the most basic basics of potions."

"I'm led to believe that he isn't proficient in either." A small pause, and Robin managed a half smile at his fairly direct insult before he continued speaking. "And you are right, Miss Mitchell, legilimency has fairly little to do with veritaserum, or more precisely, nothing at all. Which is why I will not give you the instructions for the antidote."

While his words definitely made sense, Robin also felt her heart sinking and squeezing together painfully. It had been her only chance… or had it? Another idea sprung to her mind suddenly, and even though she knew that it was extremely inappropriate and straight out wrong, it was an idea born from desperation. "What if I poison him?"

Snape's expression did show a small but honest reaction upon her words, a mixture of astonishment and a hint of being impressed, but more words fell off Robin's lips before he could shut her up. "Maybe draught of living death, so that he doesn't show up to class until I graduate, or forgetfulness potion to make him forget that he ever asked me to do this, forced me to do this even, or a hate potion so he shows his TRUE self in front of the entire school, or-"

"That's quite enough, Miss Mitchell." He interrupted her with a scolding tone, and Robin sobered from her rant in but a second. Oh no… had she really just said all of that? Out loud?? To Professor Snape??? As he continued, his voice took on a more neutral tone again, but his eyes conveyed the same graveness nonetheless. "I'm giving five points to Slytherin, for your remarkable knowledge of admittedly rather suitable positions for the occasion. And I am giving you detention, for suggesting to poison a teacher."

"What?!"

"Come to my office first thing after breakfast tomorrow morning. You will be here the entire day, so don't expect to be indulging in any other… activities tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Sunday." Robin frowned at him, and felt a little betrayed after all. She had a serious problem at hand and he was giving her detention?! However justified it was, for her impulsive blurt of a desperation born thoughts, she had hoped for a little more understanding at least. Also, there was no detention on Sundays. Usually.

"I'm well aware." He replied to her surprise, giving her another of those looks that said more than his words did. Only that this time Robin had no idea what exactly it was that it said. But she didn't question him, as much as she wanted to, for he wouldn't give a reply anyway. When Professor Snape demanded something to be done, it would be. That's just how things were, and Robin found herself admiring him for it even. He wore an armor of dangerous intensity for his daily robes, and it suited him better than anyone else.

"I'll be here, sir." She finally replied in a quiet voice, and her eyes went back to the book on the desk. Would he at least let her borrow it until Monday, so that she could prepare for what was coming her way?

As if he was reading her mind now indeed, he gave an answer to her internal question. "The book won't help you, Miss Mitchell, nor will any potion. I suggest you spend the night resting instead of pondering over either option."

"How did you know I would?" Robin asked with a half amused and half embarrassed huff. Did he actually read her mind? He probably did, and yet she had the sudden feeling that detention with Professor Snape wouldn't be all that horrible. Not for her, at least.

"Because I would. Given your point of view on this issue, it is the most sensible thing to do." He replied with a risen eyebrow and a pointed look. "However from my point of view, I strongly advise you to rest. You will fare better with energy rather than pointless knowledge in tomorrow's… detention."

Robin frowned at his cryptic statement, but he seemed rather unwilling to say any more on the issue and thus Robin took a deep breath before she went to reply in his trademark neutrality. "Very well. No books for me tonight, I'm going straight to bed. Would that be all, sir?"

"Careful, Mitchell. You wouldn't want to risk detention over your wit."

"I thought I already have detention, sir."

"Get. Out." He drawled in a low tone, and yet the not-smirk tugging on his lips didn't escape Robin's notice as she rose to her feet and walked to the door.

Somehow she felt better than she knew she should in the light of getting detention, leave alone what would be happening on Monday. But here she was, having to hide her smirk as she turned around to Snape once again. "Goodnight, professor. I'll be on time."

"You better be." He mused with another gaze louder than words. "Tomorrow."

As Robin closed the door behind herself and stepped into the dark hallway, turning into the direction of her dormitory, she allowed a small smile to grace her lips at last. Things still weren't exactly working out in her favor, but after talking to the quite possibly darkest person she had ever known, the world seemed an odd lot brighter nonetheless.

______________________________

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bettydice · 4 years

Text

(Planning the Day) To Meet You

Wangxian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, E-Rated

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter 2

Tuesday, First Day with Wei Wuxian

The books Wei Wuxian has spread out over the table are all about veterinary medicine. Lan Wangji pictures Wei Wuxian working as a vet and the image of Wei Wuxian holding up a bunny to his face makes his heart skip a beat. He wants to ask Wei Wuxian whether he’s actually studying to become a vet to confirm his daydream, but he doesn’t.

As soon as Lan Wangi closes his laptop, because it is time for lunch (and it is already later than usual because he’s been having an argument with himself about whether he should ask Wei Wuxian to join him), Wei Wuxian rushes to give him back his pen, stuffs his books haphazardly into his bag (Lan Wangji cringes) and then stands up to leave, before Lan Wangji gets the chance to say anything.

“You’re so right, Lan Zhan, it is time to go. I already stayed longer than planned. Thank you for sharing your pen and your table with me!”

Lan Wangji can only nod and watch as he leaves.

He had hoped saying “I’m going to have lunch outside” would have prompted Wei Wuxian to invite himself, but now he missed his chance to test this theory. He wonders whether he’ll ever see Wei Wuxian again.

The pen is still warm in his hand.

Lan Wangji arrives at his usual time. He tries not to expect anything. It is a rare occasion that anyone approaches his table, so waiting for the same person to appear twice is a hopeless endeavour. Yet he catches himself looking up any time he hears the slightest noise, hoping it will turn into footsteps approaching.

Foolish.

No matter how hard he tries, his concentration stays elusive today. He has to read the chapter on “Music in the Tang Dynasty: Foreign Influences” three times before it registers in his brain and by then he has forgotten what information he was looking for and has to start all over again. Maybe this is a sign that he should not include it in his paper; he should be trying to narrow down his topic anyway, not be adding more to it. “Music And Poetry of the Tang Dynasty” is indeed way too broad a topic for a 20-page research paper. So far, Lan Wangji has read 16 books and filled 35 pages with notes. And now, when he needs his brain the most, it abandons him.

Wei Wuxian arrives at 11:25 a.m. and distracts Lan Wangji from his inner struggle. Wei Wuxian seems almost surprised to see Lan Wangji and for a while he just stands and stares at him, blinking. He appears to have no books with him today.

“Lan Zhan, you’re here again! Ah, I didn’t really think you would be, haha. Well, I’m just… just wanted to say hello, I suppose.”

“Hello.”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head then, as if to clear his mind, laughs, comes closer and leans against the table, basically sitting on it. Lan Wangji has to tip his head back a little to look into Wei Wuxian’s face and it is like staring straight into the sun.

“Are you here often then?"

“Not Sunday.”

“... soooo, you’re here every day but Sunday?”

“Mn.”

“I see! How nice, Lan Zhan, you’re such a diligent student, your professors must like you a lot. You probably don’t get scolded like me, haha. Well, I suppose I’ll see you around then. Tomorrow? What day is it tomorrow? Let me think, today Wen Ning made congee for breakfast, which means it is Wednesday... okay, I will meet you tomorrow! Thursday!”

“Mn.”

Tomorrow. Wei Wuxian will meet him tomorrow. He’ll be here, because Lan Wangji is here.

Lan Wangji only sees Wei Wuxian for five minutes today, but he is in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Apparently it shows on his face, because his brother mentions it during dinner. Lan Wangji doesn’t say more except that he had a good day at the library, which is not a lie. Xichen smiles and nods in the way he does, whenever he knows that Wangji isn’t telling him everything, but he won’t push. He never pushes.

Only when he is lying in bed, almost falling asleep, does a tiny, niggling worry appear at the back of his mind. Who is Wen Ning? Why is he cooking for Wei Wuxian? Friend? Flatmate? Cousin? Boyfriend? He is glad that Wei Wuxian gets proper meals one way or another and is not just simply eating prawn chips all day. But…

Maybe Xichen is right. Maybe his life is boring and lonely after all if his thoughts are so easily taken over by a stranger, simply because they keep smiling at him.

Thursday, Third Day with Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian shows up at 10:30 a.m. Today, he brought books but this time, as far as Lan Wangji can tell, they’re mostly about Hong Kong Cinema. Alright. Interesting.

Lan Wangji cannot muster the nerve to ask him whether he wants to have lunch together, but he also doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to get up and leave as soon as he closes his laptop again, so he… ignores his hungry stomach and keeps working.

Wei Wuxian leaves at 12:30 p.m. Lan Wangji thus has a very late lunch. His stomach is not happy but the rest of him is.

When he leaves the library at 4:30 p.m., someone calls his name as he walks by the lawn in front of the university. This is unprecedented. He whips his head around to see Wei Wuxian among the frolicking students, sitting next to… Nie Huaisang? He does not know what to do with the information that someone he knows also knows Wei Wuxian. At least that means that Wei Wuxian is not just a creation of his mind, but a real, wonderful person.

Wei Wuxian is wearing shorts and flip flops, and Lan Wangji’s brain insists that this is something he should take note of. He tries to argue with his brain that surely Wei Wuxian must have been wearing the same thing this morning and it hadn’t been a problem then, but his brain once again refuses to listen. Wei Wuxian has his hair in a high ponytail instead of a bun, stray hairs escaping still and his legs are crossed and bare and he looks carefree and is waving at Lan Wangji as though he’s happy to see him.

“Lan Wangji! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji slowly approaches them, sees Nie Huaisang looking from Wei Wuxian to Lan Wangji with undisguised curiosity - undoubtedly wondering how and why he calls him ‘Lan Zhan’ - and then stands next to them, giving a curt nod as a greeting.

“Nice to see you, Lan Wangji. It’s been a while.”

“Likewise, Nie Huaisang.”

“You two know each other? Huaisang, how can you know someone like Lan Zhan and not tell me? Were you keeping him to yourself? How rude, how rude! Lan Zhan, come sit down and enjoy the sun with us!”

Lan Wangji does not sit down on the grass. It is not something he does; also he’s wearing white trousers. Wei Wuxian pouts while Nie Huaisang stares at him as though he has lost his mind for asking Lan Wangji to sit with them.

Despite feeling a bit stuffy in his clothes ever since he left the air-conditioned library, he now feels a cold chill run up his spine. Unrooted anxiety squeezes his heart and he nods again, turns around and briskly leaves, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s concerned “Lan Zhan? Are you okay?” and Nie Huaisang’s “I can’t believe you know Lan Wangji, call him Lan Zhan and just asked him to sit down on the grass” . He does not hear Wei Wuxian’s reply.

Friday, Fourth Day with Wei Wuxian

Despite Lan Wangji’s worries that he hopelessly embarrassed himself yesterday, Wei Wuxian shows up again at 10:30 a.m. and does not mention anything, nor does he act any differently.

This time, he brings only one book. “Equine Anatomy”. And then he begins to… draw. Really well. Lan Wangji has given up on trying to deduce what Wei Wuxian studies. Maybe he’s not a student at all, maybe he just sneaks into the library to read books on any topic that catches his eye. Whatever the reason, he is glad that Wei Wuxian spends time here, at this table.

At 11:30 a.m. Lan Wangji loudly declares “Lunch”, closes his laptop, stands up, and stares at Wei Wuxian for almost 20 seconds until he recognizes it for the invitation it was.

Lan Wangji eats his carefully cut up and packed vegetables and fruits and drinks his green tea. Wei Wuxian eats his prawn chips and drinks a coffee that he got from the frankly sketchy looking vending machine in the foyer of the library. Lan Wangji has never seen anyone else use it and is sure that it’s more likely to give you lasting bowel issues than to provide you with a tasty beverage. Wei Wuxian takes one sip and then says “Disgusting. Just what I need right now.”

Lan Wangji learns a lot about Wei Wuxian during lunch, because now there is no “no talking in the library” to hold him back and Lan Wangji is gifted with almost twenty minutes of Uninterrupted Wei Wuxian Talking Time.

Things he learns about Wei Wuxian during these twenty minutes:

Wei Wuxian studies Computer Sciences. Lan Wangji has trouble making sense of that, after the hodgepodge of books Wei Wuxian has been reading. He has yet to see Wei Wuxian with anything resembling a computer.

Wei Wuxian is 24, just like Lan Wangji. But he’s still busy with his BA, because he had to take a break last year for reasons Lan Wangji doesn’t know yet.

Wei Wuxian moves his hands a lot when he’s talking. Lan Wangji has to move his head a few times so he doesn’t get hit in the face.

Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian know each other from school. Apparently they used to call each other the The Three Drunken Masters (they were really into Jackie Chan movies back then) and ‘Jiang Cheng’ was also a part of that. As soon as he says that name, Wei Wuxian’s face, that is always so very expressive, turns blank, as though he’s very consciously trying not to show any emotion.

Twenty minutes of Uninterrupted Wei Wuxian Talking Time is not enough.

Saturday, Wei Wuxian-less

Wei Wuxian does not come to the library on the weekend. He had told Lan Wangji this. Lan Wangji still finds himself disappointed.

He spends a lot of time not thinking about his paper and instead thinking about Monday.

Sunday, Wei Wuxian-less

It is a Sunday and Lan Wangji’s inner peace is in serious trouble. No matter what he does, all his thoughts are drawn to Wei Wuxian. It is as though Wei Wuxian visited his flat while he was asleep and left his traces everywhere. Sweetness that lingers in the air and enters his mind with every breath.

While he makes breakfast, he wonders how Wei Wuxian might eat his. Does he eat breakfast at all or does he skip it? Does he eat congee every day or only when ‘Wen Ning’ makes it for him? Perhaps he’s the type to only drink coffee. He frowns at the thought. Lan Wangji does not have a coffee maker. Maybe it is time to buy one. Then he frowns again when he realises what he is doing here. There is no reason to assume that Wei Wuxian would ever share breakfast with him, especially not here, in his flat.

He decides to distract himself with reading and grabs the first book that catches his eye. It turns out to be a collection of love poetry that Nie Huaisang had given him once because “I would never dare to give you porn, so this is the next best thing”. Lan Wangji had long given up on understanding Huaisang’s logic and just accepted the gift instead of arguing.

He reads the first few poems with burning ears and realises quickly that this is… not the euphemism-heavy fare he’s expected. The verses are brimming with melancholy and speak of separation and longing. Of lovers that parted, lovers that never were.

Not… a good distraction.

He slams the book shut, forgets all about good posture and lets himself fall against the back of his couch, basically slouching, and stares at the ceiling.

Frustration mounts in him that apparently he has built his peace and happiness on such a fragile foundation that everything collapses as soon as he is slightly shaken.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t even done anything. All he did was sit down at his table, talk and smile, instead of turning around and walking away at the first sight of Lan Wangji’s frown. Has he really been lonely all this time and is now retroactively having a crisis about it, because he was finally made aware of it?

He’s always been aware of the fact that there’s one corner of his heart that has been cold and deserted ever since his mother died. No matter how much warmth he’d found in his brother’s smile, in a soft bunny paw on his hand, in bringing order to the chaos of history… It had never reached this furthest corner of his heart.

How could it be possible that he’d find it in this stranger from the library?

Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying. Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji goes to the gym and tries to outrun his thoughts on the treadmill. He mostly succeeds.

Monday, Fifth Day with Wei Ying

Lan Wangji wakes up with a hard cock and an itchy heart. A dream, there was a dream… he tries to recall, but the morning sun chases all remains of the night away and the dream dissipates with them.

He decides to postpone his morning exercise until the evening and takes a shower to take care of himself. Even in this, Lan Wangji has a routine, knows how to satisfy himself in five minutes or less.

He takes himself in hand and quickly strokes himself to hardness, focusing on how he feels , instead of getting lost in specific images or fantasies.

Except this time, it’s not enough. His heart still itches with… something. He grips his cock harder, lavishes extra attention on the sensitive head, twists his hand on every other upstroke… There’s still something missing.

Then, a thought. “What if it was someone else’s hand.”

Then. “What if it was Wei Wuxian’s hand.”

Then. “What if Wei Ying was with me in the shower.”

Ah, he can imagine it so well, so easily.

Wei Ying naked, pressed against Lan Wangji’s back, his arms holding him, one hand splayed over his chest, one hand stroking his cock. He’d be just tall enough to whisper into Lan Wangji’s ear, breath hot against his skin.

“Mhm, Lan Zhan, look at you. So hard in my hand… you’re already close and we’ve barely just begun. So impatient. Lan Zhan, pretty Lan Zhan, this is all just for me, isn’t it?”

“Only for Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying strokes him faster, teasingly dips a finger into his slit and then squeezes, just how he likes it. Hot pleasure travels up his spine, coils deep in his stomach. Lan Wangji lets Wei Ying take over, lets him do whatever he wants.

He feels Wei Ying press kisses against his shoulder, his fingers playing with his cock as freely as with his pen.

It feels so good, Wei Ying feels so good and he wants…

Lan Wangji has Wei Ying pressed against the wall and he’s kissing him, kissing his lips, his neck, that collarbone and Wei Ying is laughing, loud and carefree and…

Lan Wangji comes so hard that he slips and only barely avoids falling and suffering a head injury that would be really difficult to explain.

Pressing his head against the cool tiles, he closes his eyes and breathes hard until he comes back to himself.

He cleans himself (and also has to clean the shower door, he’s embarrassed to notice), finishes his bathroom routine, gets dressed and then stares at himself in the mirror.

Fuck.

His heart is not itchy anymore but now it’s filled with dread. He feels as though… It’s not guilt, not exactly but he feels as though he has crossed boundaries that he only realised existed, once he’s looking back. It is one thing to fantasize about someone he finds attractive… but Lan Wangji went beyond that, didn’t he? He put words into Wei Wuxian’s mouth, words he’d never say but that he wants to hear and…

It is not a thing he can ask permission for, the thought alone makes him anxious… “Wei Wuxian, I would like to pleasure myself to thoughts of you and in my fantasies you talk a lot and you’re my boyfriend because casual sex is not appealing to me. Do I have your approval? Also, what do you eat for breakfast, I really want to know.”

No.

He wants to stay home today and hide under his blanket, because he’s sure that people will look at his face and know.

However, his wish to see Wei Ying… Wei Wuxian … is larger than his not-quite-guilt.

If Wei Wuxian was successful in reading his face and now knows his indecent shower secrets, he does not mention it. They spend their time at the library as usual. Lan Wangji marvels at this thought - now it is their time and they have a rhythm . (Wei Wuxian’s choice of reading today is: Artificial Intelligence. The first thing that could actually have something to do with Computer Sciences. No computer in sight yet.)

He tries to not think about this morning and hopes he’s able to find a good medium between Not Looking At Wei Wuxian Because He’ll Know and Looking At Wei Wuxian A Lot Because He Is Beautiful.

When Wei Wuxian leaves shortly after lunch, he feels exhausted. Lan Wangji never takes naps, Lans do not nap (one of Lan Qiren’s weirder rules, he’d been very strict about it nonetheless) but he could really use one right now.

Fuck.

#the untamed #mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji/wei wuxian #probs better to read on AO3 because who tf knows what tumblr will do to the formatting #betty drabbles #To Meet You verse

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