#and then those few days at the end of the semester that really uh. sealed the deal to me lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whoopsyeahokay · 1 month

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October Sun

summary: you'd known that Simon wasn't okay since it had been announced that they'd found blood in the boiler room. his pain, his hurt, his loss had spilled out from him and into you and you'd had no clue how to handle it. and then suddenly, you'd been soothed, and all you'd been able to think of had been getting to the source of that comfort and giving thanks.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.8

Wally couldn't stop thinking about earlier. How the slopes and arches of your body fit against him like a puzzle piece. How malleable you'd been under his touch. The intense liquid heat that had thrummed between you both as he'd leaned in to kiss you; heartbeats synchronized, eyes fluttering closed, utterly surrendered to the sensation.

He'd kissed a few girls when he'd been alive. Hell, he'd made out with Dawn a handful of times when adrenaline and hormones had needed an outlet. None of those experiences held a candle to what he'd felt when he'd just barely brushed his lips to yours.

There was something underneath it all. Not just his attraction to you, which he'd harbored for going on two years now. Something else. Something mystical and big and unleashed. Maybe you already knew what it was. After all, you could reach through the veil, hear and see and feel Wally...maybe you had an explanation.

If only the connection between you and Wally hadn't made it practically impossible to finish a conversation.

"Where'd you go, superstar?"

Wally nearly jumped in surprise, having forgotten he wasn't alone. He glanced around, saw Katelynn—the courtyard fatality—and Ajay studying him as intently as Rhonda. They were in the kitchen piling a late lunch of leftovers onto their plates while, around them, the staff muddled through their end-of-day breakdown.

"Uh," Wally supplied, intelligently. He was a miserable liar, something Rhonda had teased him for mirthlessly in the past. Told him he was as easy to read as 3rd grade English (ouch). But he didn't take his promises lightly and knew he had to come up with something or Rhonda would grill him until he broke. Deflection it was, "Do you think Maddie had a good time?"

Rhonda, perched primly on a counter, rolled her eyes and plucked a bread roll from the bin one of the staff was about to seal. "Jesus, you really are ditzy for her, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that," Wally said. He really wouldn't, "I just want her to—"

"Confess her undying love? Make you the center of her universe and forget all about her dreamy, badboy ex?" Rhonda scoffed, "Hate to break it to you, hot stuff, but you'd just be a rebound and we all know how those end."

"Badly?" Katelynn guessed. Having been fourteen when she'd kicked the bucket, she'd likely never had the chance to explore the intricacies of romance. Or of all its thorns.

Rhonda's hands clamped and then bloomed in front of her as she vocalized a bomb exploding.

"No, Rhonda, that's not it," Wally spoke in long strokes, as if to a child, willing away a flash of irritation. "What I was gonna say was that I want her to know there's more to being dead than trying to solve your own murder." Since, after all was said and done, there'd be nothing left to do besides passively haunt Split River High.

And that shit got dull after a semester or two.

Unexpectedly, "I spoke to her today." Rhonda admitted, somewhat reluctant, as the group paraded from the kitchen into the cafeteria. Wally encouraged her to continue with a smile, "About how I died. She thought it could help, so..." She slid into her regular seat next to Wally, eyes fixed on her plate, "I guess it did because she took off after."

It was obvious that relinquishing even that morsel of information made her uncomfortable, shoulders curled to her ears and lips pursed, those metaphorical walls re-erecting.

Wally clapped her on the back, "You did good, Deadly." A fond nickname he used sparingly as it often earned him an elbow to the ribs.

This time, Rhonda simply glared a warning at him before tearing a piece off her bread roll and smearing it through the gravy on Wally's plate. Progress, he supposed.

To move the conversation away from Rhonda, Wally engaged Katelynn, "I saw you with the extinguisher today."

Katelynn grinned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"You know what we should do next time? We get those chairs with the wheels, a couple of fire extinguishers..." He mimed the scene with fervor, grinning conspiratorially between the others, "We could do it in the gym. Take bets. See who goes farthest. It would be awesome!"

Rhonda patted his knee twice—thank you—under the table. How she displayed gratitude without being obvious. As discreetly as possible, Wally returned the gesture, tapping three times to indicate I've got you.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Somehow, you'd done it: graduated to the end of the school day without incident. Sure, Mathilda had given you a funny look when you'd made your excuses to stay behind, but she'd been too distracted by what pieces to include in her portfolio to cross-examine you about it.

"Text me later, sillybean!" She called over her shoulder as she, Hana, and Lucas exited the school.

The siblings waved in unison, Hana pirouetting and blowing you a kaleidoscope of exaggerated kisses before falling back into step with her brother.

You turned back to your locker, shoving in your backpack and your uncle's hoodie. You'd accepted that the connection between you and Wally quashed any attempt you made to hide from him; berated yourself for not realizing it sooner.

After you'd closed the door and slipped the lock back into place, you mustered your courage and turned toward the direction of the theater. You could do this. Without getting sidetracked.

Yeah, you believed that about as much as you believed the lunchroom bread rolls were 'made fresh' everyday.

A metallic clamor caught your attention before you'd even stepped a foot forward, causing you to hesitate. Down several lockers along the row, Simon shook his lock against the hasp furiously. He was unmistakably upset, jaw tight, vibrating with unfettered anger.

You approached him just as he kicked the locker below his.

"Here," You said, inserting yourself between Simon and his locker, "What's the combo?"

Without pause, "8-37-15," he recited through gritted teeth.

You dialed the combination, unhooked the lock and held it out for Simon to take.

"You okay?" You asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes." Simon lied then abruptly changed his mind, "No. I don't know." He dumped his bag at his feet and rummaged through the contents of his locker only to give up and spin around. Propped against the closed bottom level, Simon ran his hands through his hair roughly, reminding you of someone with far too much responsibility that outweighed their experience.

"What's going on, Si?"

He lifted his head, brow creased with despair, "Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

The question knocked you for six. Unsure if it was rhetorical, you chose to stay quiet and, sure enough, Simon expounded. "Aren't friends supposed to tell each other things, even if it's hard? Even if they think it might hurt? Because, at the end of the day, you chose that person to be there for you no matter what. And that person chose you right back."

No questions asked. Your voice overlapped with Xavier's, years worth of emotional petitions for comfort and unbiased support echoing in your head.

Thinking of your friend, you wondered, "Is this about Nicole leaving with Xavier after lunch?"

Simon seemed surprised by the news, yet, after a second, confirmed, "Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's about that."

He stared at his feet, arms folded tightly across his middle, chewed his lip as he pondered what he wanted to disclose. Finally, "I just want to be there for her, but it's like she won't let me. And it sucks." His voice was damp with pain. "And now she's pissed and she's shut me out and...I don't know what to do."

When he raised his head again, you almost choked on the sorrow in his eyes. You wanted to hug him, hold him, cry. Here was a boy whose best friend had, for all intents and purposes, left him behind, and now he was scared he'd lost someone else.

The mounting sadness radiating from Simon made your eyes sting. You had no clue how to comfort him, not like you did Xavier or Mathilda, the two people you'd chosen and who'd chosen you back.

The strength of secondhand emotion chipped away at you, threatened to shatter you into a thousand anguished pieces, but just as you thought you would break, a familiar warmth sunk into the cracks. The sensation blossomed upward and concentrated behind your ribs, loosening a deep breath of relief.

Absently, you shifted your hand the slightest bit away from where it rested against your thigh, the movement undetectable unless one was looking for it. The warmth grew, contented and safe, and then—a whisper of fingertips across the back of your hand, there and gone.

You didn't move, kept your gaze on Simon; simply waited for Wally to enter your periphery. His back was to you, his hand returning to his jacket pocket as he, Rhonda, and a couple of others walked toward the end of the hall. You vaguely saw him split from the rest of the group, Wally going left while the other three went right.

Simon swallowed, mournful, and he rasped, "What do I do?"

Invigorated by Wally's touch, you planted yourself in front of Simon, placed your hands on his shoulders, and urged him to, "Talk to her. People knock communication like it's some kind of cheap cliche, but it's the best way to resolve things." He nodded, weak but resolute, and you dragged him into a hug. "Trust me," You said, "Just be honest and listen. You don't have to understand everything, you just have to accept it."

Simon chuckled wetly, squeezed you tighter for an instant before releasing you.

"Thanks."

"Any time." And you meant it with every fiber of your being. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Simon said, scrubbing the back of his wrist over his eyes, "I'll be fine." He cleared his throat, "Listen, um, I forgot something in the cafeteria, but if you want to wait I could give you a ride home."

Something in his tone suggested the offer was halfhearted, though you appreciated it all the same.

"Nah, it's cool. I have to study." You replied, already positioning yourself to leave. Simon didn't mention that the library was in the other direction, merely flashed you a small, grateful smile.

"See you tomorrow." He saluted.

Free to excuse yourself, you found you had to fight the desire to go go go, hurry, go, that warm sensation purring louder the closer you got to the theater. Fuck making sure the coast was clear, you were supposed to be in there right now; swung the door open with probably a lot more force than necessary.

Wally, who had been sitting on the edge of the stage awaiting your arrival, hopped down as soon as you entered the darkened space, his gaze instantly locking with yours.

One dubious step, two, three, and the warmth fizzled and licked inside you, encouraging your pace to quicken, faster, nearer. You broke into a run, closing the distance, Wally's stare never wavering. With less than a foot remaining, you sprung up and forward, body colliding into his. He caught you easily, held you in his arms with one hand under a thigh and the other around your waist.

No thoughts, no words, no inhibitions; fever-hot and eager; Wally's jaw in your palms, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his.

💀___________________________

PART SEVEN - PART NINE

note: they're so good at talking, eh? 😏 anyway, to let y'all in on my little headcanon: Hana is "helpful student" from episode 2, the girl who alerts Mr. Anderson to the deputy at the door when the class is watching Frankenstein (1931).

if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please join the tag list! (which i've intentionally deleted from this post for the time being 💖✌️bear with, pls!)

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #October Sun

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disregardcanon · 3 years

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rwby julie and the phantoms au featuring dead girl band rwby and jaune as the conduit. but like, jaune who just half-way cheated his way into music school

the year is 1995 and the girl band RWBY is a rising power in the indie music world. composed of four talented, each with a rich and interesting backstory for the public to latch onto, they’re well on their way to becoming LGBT icons- if not actual stars. weiss, blake, and yang are twenty and ruby is eighteen.

weiss schnee is the daughter of silicone valley tycoon jacques schnee, who made headlines when she cut off all her hair and ran away from home to join a queer girl band. she’s the second schnee daughter to leave home, winter having joined the military back in 1992. she’s the band’s lead vocalist, though she occasionally plays violin in tracks that they write it into.

blake belladonna is already a famous singer. she sprung onto the scene in 1992 in a duo known as “bellataurus”. acting as the full sonny and cher package, adam taurus served as both older boyfriend and older manager until blake broke from him and helped to form RWBY in 1994. she took her vocals, her piano skills, GUITAR skills, and her songwriting skills with her.

yang xiao long and ruby rose are legacies of the highest order. summer, raven, qrow, and tai formed a band when they were kids and they became some of the biggest rockstars of the seventies and eighties- and later some of the biggest scandals. raven and tai’s messy, public breakup after the birth of their daughter signaled the band’s death- but then the birth of tai and SUMMER’S child signaled an even bigger scandal. the tabloids had an absolute field day over the new baby.

yang learned lots of instruments, but mainly took up the drums from her dad. the same went for ruby, but she mainly stole qrow’s guitar and made him teach her to shred.

unfortunately, the media never stopped following the two kids around, even through ruby’s transition. in a mixed bag for the remnants of STRQ and their children, the media circus that followed ruby rose coming out as a girl in NINETEEN NINETY TWO. the remaining members of STRQ still had a lot of clout and fully put their support behind her, but transmisognyny’s a bitch and it still followed them everywhere. yang coming out publicly as a lesbian neither helped nor hindered the situation, but it did make ruby feel a bit less alone.

the girls formed their band about a year before their- uh, UNTIMELY deaths in 1995. this came 3 days after a confrontation between blake and adam, where she promised that she would never, EVER date him again. she wouldn’t even work with him again. she and her band were going to become stars and actually help make social changes, instead of them just bullying her into going along with whatever THEY want from her and keeping her mouth shut because politics kills careers.

they’re playing the ORPHEUM! the theater where so many bands have gotten their big break! she doesn’t need him now and she didn’t need him then.

eating bad street hot dogs after the warm up for a performance that blake promised adam 3 days ago would be the best that she ever gave- well. that’s just a weird coincidence, right?

cue 2020.

jaune arc has recently gotten into his first semester at a prestigious music college in the LA area, close to his family’s home where he still lives. the garage/studio out back remains largely untouched. half of that’s because cleaning the place out would be a lot of work, but half of it’s because his parents feel bad about the idea of cleaning out all of STRQ’s old recording equipment that both summer and tai promised they “didn’t want anymore” while selling the house in the wake of their daughters’ deaths.

it’s not like the area is really suitable as a garage, and the arcs can spare a little room just in case those people ever change their minds.. even though they haven’t in twenty five years.

jaune’s house isn’t completely empty because he still has one of his older sisters going to college in LA at the same time, but it’s preeetttyy empty. his parents are hands off at this point and don’t even wonder how their baby who never even took any music lessons has gotten into a school like this.

it’s not like he doesn’t sing and sing pretty well, but they’re not even certain he can read music. spoiler alert: he can’t.

jaune is actually VERY good at working by ear and performing, but his music education growing up was lacking. on all levels. his parents encouraged him to do sports as his primary activity and he had no time for anything else and his public school music ed did not get him what he needed to go to music school.

frankly, he doesn’t even know what a treble clef is called. so. he’s a bit behind when going into his college classes. he was only able to fake the paperwork to get into music theory II, but considering that he’s. uh, completely unaware of what those notes mean he’s a bit fucked.

he’s always just been able to pull the song out of his ass because he listened to enough music to learn stuff by ear, but now he’s supposed to work through all this stuff with notation and he MIGHT BE DYING

he’s assigned to a group project with ren and nora and pyrrha and, well, thank god pyrrha notices and is kind enough to try to fill in the cracks.

but there’s a lot of cracks, you know? he’s barely pulling the grades that he needs to not get kicked out of the program at the moment, and he’s not entirely sure how to go about getting an accompanist for his end of semester showcase and ren and nora are already working together (they both play guitar and sing together) and pyrrha’s a soloist and -

oh god, he’s going to get kicked out of this program, isn’t he?

pyrrha keeps talking him down out of the anxiety because she is very kind and has a very big crush because jaune still has noticed that she’s a pop star that wanted to (but is failing to) have a normal college experience.

she lets him borrow her copy of RWBY’s first and only album and lets him take it home to listen to it. he decides to listen to it in the studio because he knows that’s where music, at one point, happened.

and it of course summons the souls of all four girls. they have ghostly mischief as they try to figure out how to make things work, and realize that while people who aren’t jaune can’t see them- people can HEAR THEM. and then when they play along with jaune for his end of semester show case- they realize that people can SEE THEM when they play with him.

pyrrha is confused about why jaune’s hologram band looks so much like RWBY, and she’s a little jealous and hurt that he’s been keeping this from her while letting HER bear the brunt of helping him with his struggles. jaune doesn’t know how to say that yeah, those are the actual ghosts of RWBY.

petty drama, petty drama, the girls are feeling suffocated by the fact that they’re actually dead and can’t interact with anyone who’s alive. ruby decides to go clear her head and meets another, very sweet and enthusiastic ghost named penny who likes to skateboard.

penny is very sweet and ruby has what is known in show biz as a CRUSH. ruby learns a bit about how this ghost stuff works from her (some powers, about the unfinished business being what’s tying them to the land of the living, that she is VERY GAY) and she comes back to her friends to say hello yes i know things now and am also gay. wasn’t positive about that before but it’s a fact now

here’s where i lose my thread and am too tired to find it again but other things

1. ironwood is the villain of this. if you’re familiar with jatp, he serves the same function as caleb covington if not the exact same motives. he seals souls to him by a contract but with the express purpose of building a safe afterlife for ghosts... by making sure that all of them are under his control. winter, who died in one of the united state’s middle eastern campaigns is his right hand ghost.

weiss is majorly conflicted by this because. it’s winter, you know? it’s winter. and it seems like this guy is trying to make things better for ghosts, right? he’s got a homebase and he can make them visible sometimes and make it so they can eat food and lots of stuff. but it comes with a heavy level of control.

he doesn’t go after the girls until later because he thinks that they’ll come back, but when he DOES... the fact that he owns penny’s soul and doesn’t see her or any of the souls under his control as full people comes up in an ugly way.

2. adam taurus is the trevor wilson of this, but waaaayyy worse. he did in fact kill the girls and pillaged what he could of blake’s songs to record and put out under his own name. he‘s a big star, but a fading one, and he has a few vengeful ghost coming for him.

3. winter is a ghost, but whitley is a ghost of himself. at this point he’s forty and still doesn’t even know what he wants because he’s molded himself into what his dad wants so thoroughly. getting him to realize that he wants more and wants things for himself definitely comes up. winter also helps take down ironwood and free the souls. eventually

4. jaune IS a necromancer. he’s going to be able to see penny and others and eventually can give ghosts the power they need to be seen whenever they want. RWBYJNPR eventually becomes a big band that plays together sometimes

5. raven only came back for a few days for yang and ruby’s funeral before disappearing. qrow fell from grace quite dramatically when he accused adam taurus of murder with no evidence and became the laughing stock of america. he kept trying to find something that would fill the holes in his life, but he hasn’t lucked out with that yet... except the alcoholism, maybe.

tai and summer are still together, but they’re pretty miserable and they moved far away from LA to get out of the spotlight.

RWBY gets summer, tai, and qrow back together on purpose... and raven shows up when she sees her dead daughter singing on national television. the STRQ reunion is awkward and stilted, but things get better from there.

strq instruments

summer: vocalist with some piano

raven and qrow: bass and standard guitar respectively with some vocals

tai: drummer with some vocals

6. pyrrha and jaune eventually actually become the great duo that adam tried to market himself and blake as. sorry not sorry

7. not sure how they do it but they DO prove that adam murdered them and all of them including qrow get Vindication TM

8. the bumbleby isn’t a big plot point but they were dancing around getting together when they died and it happens slowly once they’re back <3

#rwby aus #jaune arc #team rwby #team strq #arkos #nuts and dolts #bumbleby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #schneeblings

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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

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Face Heel Turn || Morgan & Ben

TIMING: Current

LOCATION: UMWC

PARTIES: @professorbcampbell & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Ben face an unpleasant problem on campus and make a run for their lives.

(art credit @professorbcampbell)

With a sigh, Ben removed his glasses and slipped them into the soft travel case that he then tucked away into his attache case. Meetings. While he was sure that many of his colleagues despised such events, Ben had always thrived in them. There was nothing quite like watching the interdepartmental politics at work and he enjoyed giving the invisible strings that wrapped around his peers a gentle nudge from time to time. One of the other professors approached him, asking if he wanted to go for drinks with the others. “Ah, no thank you,” He said with a polite shake of his head, “I was hoping to talk to David- chair duties and all.” Ben gave a regretful smile before stepping to the side. To his great annoyance, Ben caught sight of David making a quick exit from the room, escaping one Morgan Beck. Of course it was her. She was the mousy looking thorn in his otherwise pristine working life. “Morgan!” He said with a hearty smile, “Wonderful to see you.”

Morgan didn’t need to have real magic to work her will. Lots of pagans didn’t have a mainline to the universe and did just fine. She could too. She could. And if her will was getting a real contract with real responsibilities, something worthy of settling into for a few years, maybe until she stopped being able to convince people about her age, then she would take any opportunity the universe presented to her to make it happen. Sometimes that opportunity was cornering the dean of the liberal arts and social sciences college after a meeting.

Unfortunately, the dean wasn’t having any of it.

“Not now,” he mumbled, sliding past her.

“I just noticed three deceased faculty from my department in the obituaries, sir, and rather than waste university resources looking across the country, it be to everyone’s credit to promote from within and--”

“Not now, girl.” He shook his head. “Building codes.”

It took Morgan several seconds to process what she’d heard, and another to decide that, no, she was not going to respond politely. But that time was more than enough for the dean to get away. Worse, it was time enough for Ben Campbell to get in her way. She fought herself not to sneer openly at him. “Hi, Ben,” she managed, her cheer thin and shrill. “Great seminar today, right? Just love those PD review sessions. Keeps it fresh!” She shouldered him out of her way, scampering out the room and toward the dean’s office as she said, “Woops! So sorry, Ben. But I really need to catch David for something.” And maybe consider reversing her new policy on violence. “So sorry! Tootles!” Surely, she thought, Ben would hate her enough to not try and follow.

It had been amusing, at the very least, to see the Dean completely brush of Beck. Ben didn’t let any emotion show on his face, pretending instead to be focused on trying to see where David went. But on the inside, he couldn’t help the smug, triumphant gloating wash over him. Served her right, for getting ideas beyond her position. She should keep her nose down, like any good adjunct would. Work hard, don’t bother people who clearly couldn’t give a shit about you, and make relationships. And the only relationships she’d made, as far as Ben could tell, were negative ones. Pathetic. “Oh yes, PD review, absolutely riveting.” He said with a good natured nod. Grunting as she shouldered him with more force than he would have expected out of such a tiny woman, Ben’s eyes followed her as she headed for the door. “Ah, you’re trying to talk to David as well? Wonderful, so am I. Co-chair duties. Quite a lot of work, but at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.” Ben said with a warm smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “What,” Exactly, “are you asking him about?”

Politeness kept Morgan from sprinting down the hall to the dean’s office, but determination kept her pace brisk and steady. “Oh, co-chair duties, of course. I bet you have lots to discuss and get approved. But so much of our paperwork is digital, right? I’m sure David would appreciate it so much more if you sent him a solid email with bullet points.” She walked a little faster. “I just need a few minutes with him alone to make a proposal for the english department. Plans for next semester, staffing, the usual problems this university seems to be facing. I’m sure you’ve got a hot date or somewhere else you’d rather be.” She skidded to the door and grabbed the handle. “But it was so nice running into you!” If she said it loud enough, he’d get the idea and leave, right?

Eyes narrowing as Morgan moved past him, Ben sucked in a breath and forced his face into a smile. Walking after her, his own long strides more than keeping up with her shorter ones, Ben shook his head. “I wish it was so simple. We’re meeting about recruitment for the prospective graduate students to the college. I need to hammer out some of the finer details with him that an email simply wouldn’t cover.” He said with a long suffering sigh. As Morgan explained what she was going after, Ben’s eyebrow arched. What exactly was Bitchy Beck up to? Staffing… they’d had quite a few deaths in the department-- nothing related to him, of course. But there had been some unexpected openings. With a laugh, Ben shook his head, “No dates for me, I’m a bit too busy for that.” As she pulled open the door, he followed quickly behind her. There was no way he was letting Morgan monopolize David’s time. “I’m sure Dave can pencil both of us in.”

“Aw, no someone special?” Morgan said, barely bothering to put on a guise of sympathy on her words. “That’s so sad. You should really do something about that, Ben. I mean, unless you’re aro in which case, friend dates are still a thing! In a place like this, you could die alone tomorrow.” And sometimes she wished he would. “And that would just be kinda sad and tragic, right?” She twisted the handle and swung open the door onto the dean, or who she thought was the dean, fumbling to open the window, not realizing it was sealed. This would have been enough to make her freeze in the doorway on its own, but by the desk, another dean writhed on the floor and clawed at the smooth fleshy plane that was once his face. The secretary was next to him, the skin around her sealed, lipless mouth already turning blue.

“Uh…” Morgan edged back until she stepped on Ben’s toes.

The dean who was not the dean whipped his head around to look at them. He opened his mouth.

The corner of his lips quirking with barely concealed irritation, Ben hurried after the woman. How could such a tiny thing be so quick? “No, no, not aromantic. Or asexual. I’m a very average American man, just with a busier than average work schedule. But, I might try to see someone, who knows.” He said, remembering that the Nichol’s woman had mentioned knowing Beck when she’d dropped by for that post lecture disaster. Just as he was about to mention that he was very interested in getting to know Erin better and, oh, did she happen to know her? What a coincidence, what a wonderful coincidence indeed--Morgan had already pulled open the door to the dean’s office without even the slightest decency to knock. And he was startled to see a pair of bodies writhing on the floor, their faces smooth, fleshy masks.

“Good Lord!” Ben swore, raising his arms instinctively to defend himself as the decidedly not-dean stood and screamed at them. The human lips split like seams and Ben could have sworn he saw circular rows of teeth lining the thing’s throat as it bellowed. His hands clasped over his ears at the harsh shriek and he stumbled backwards, not in fear but in pain. He’d seen demons do far worse than this, he’d done far worse than this himself. But, he was only human, after all. And without a weapon at his disposal, he could hardly do anything to protect himself. And, as irritating as Beck was, it wouldn’t do to explain how she’d been murdered as well. “Let’s get out of here!” He said, grabbing her by the shoulder and tugging her to the door as the dean moved with jerky, alien movements across the office towards them.

Several things happened at once before Morgan’s eyes: a very bright dangerous-looking something spewed out of Not-the-dean’s mouth and landed on the door next to her head, Ben pulled her away, and her confusion and panic erupted into a scream. She didn’t fight Ben. Not-the-dean had leapt to an open chair, landing on all fours and his toothy, four lipped mouth spread open again.

She started to run with Ben, but from the galloping thumps behind them, she could tell it was gaining. “Fucking fuck,” she hissed. She pulled back on Ben’s arm and made a sharp turn down the nearest hall. “You’re too slow!” Then again, so were her pumps. Morgan stopped long enough to kick them off, which so happened to be enough time for Not-the-dean to come bounding down the hall. He stopped just shy of the turn Morgan made and swiveled his head.

“If I carry you, are you gonna be a baby about it?” She asked.

The dean leapt for them, apparently determined. No time to find out. “Hold on tight, spider monkey,” she said. Then she swept her arm under his legs and went off with him.

The way the imposter’s face opened into a disgusting, peeling-apart mouth was enough to convince Ben that they needed to go post-haste, immediately, now. Scrambling out of the room, he sprinted down the hallway as quickly as he could and was startled to see Morgan was keeping pace with him? What? How could she possibly do that-- he wasn’t that old. But this tiny little thing was running alongside him, barely even winded from the effort. Turning an unexpectedly tight corner, the combination of his momentum and his considerable frame had him smacking into the side of the wall. Meanwhile, he could hear the loping sound of the creature echoing behind them.

“Carry me? I’m nearly 200--” Ben started but before he could finish his sentence, Morgan had already grabbed hold of him and was lifting him off the ground. And then, she began to run. Instinctively, Ben clung to her shoulders tightly, not wanting to fall off the woman’s thin frame. Gritting his teeth in irritation, he muttered, “Twilight? Really?” under his breath as Morgan sprinted his way through the hallways. As thoroughly emasculating as it was, to be packmuled out of danger by Beck of all people, there was a silver lining. Morgan had revealed herself to him. She was distinctly not human-- what breed of that, he had no idea-- but she was… unfortunately, a part of the true world.

Morgan managed to laugh wryly as she ran. “Got a problem with that, Bella?” Just a few more feet. It would be easier out in the open, right? Not-the-Dean thundered behind them, galloping the way no person should be able to. The air hissed, and Morgan heard something sizzling on her back and bubbling splatter on the wall beside her.

“Was that acid?” She wasn’t sure why she was alarmed. It wouldn’t do anything to her that couldn’t immediately be undone. But who liked getting acid thrown at them anyway? And there was still Ben in her arms, even if wiping away his face might be an improvement to his character. “Maybe duck your head!” They were almost out the hall. “And brace for impact!” If he was so tough, he shouldn’t mind her blasting through the double doors. Once outside they could split up, or double back and have it lose their trail that way.

Morgan barreled through the doors and into the purple evening, still running, until she crashed into the bike rack and fell over, dropping Ben and sprawling onto the ground.

“Yes.” Ben grunted emphatically, as he was jostled on the woman’s back rather roughly as they ran through the corridors. What the ever loving fuck was happening? What the hell was Morgan? Definitively not human, not human in the slightest. Unless she was moonlighting as some kind of bodybuilder or pro wrestler or something, but that seemed doubtful. But, he couldn’t dwell on this for very long as something hot, wet, and bubbling splashed against the wall next to them. Chancing a glance over, his face went pale as he saw bits of exposed concrete peeking through spots where acid had already begun to chew through the structure.

“Acid. Yes, yes, that was acid-- run faster, Beck!” He yelled, holding on tightly to the small woman’s shoulders. Twisting his head, he watched as the thing behind them was still hot in pursuit, barrelling after them on all fours. “What?” He asked, before turning back just in time to duck, though the crossbar of the door still caught the back of his head. He was seeing stars as Morgan barrelled out into the quad and spilled out on the ground when she slammed into the bike rack. Stunned, barely able to see, and head splitting with pain, Ben blindly scrambled backwards, wanting to put as much distance between him and the creature as possible.

For one terrible second, Morgan stayed on the ground. Too fast and she might be seen, identified for what she was, or else frighten Ben into telling enough people about her that she found herself hunted in her office one day. Too slow and it wouldn’t matter because Not-the-Dean and his acid was going to eat her. Ben was already moving beside her, getting up and far the fuck away. That was as good enough of a cue as any. Morgan jumped to her feet and kept running, past Ben and toward the nearest building. As she passed him she called, “You’re welcome! Don’t die!” Then she kept running, into the music building, then architecture, in and out praying that just this once the universe would bend her way and that she hadn’t been seen and she wasn’t a good enough target to be worth pursuing anyway. When she finally made it inside her car, she let herself take a beat and scan the horizon for signs of...whatever the hell she’d just seen. But it could look like anything, couldn’t it? One of the teenagers ambling toward the parking lot, the janitor pushing their cart into the next building, the MBAs strolling out in their suits. And she hadn’t even looked back, had she? Was Ben still alive? And what about the students, playing frisbee in the sunset and coming in for their late night classes and-- Morgan let her head hit the steering wheel and sighed. Too late to tie up loose ends now. She needed to go home, be grateful, and not think too hard about how bad she didn’t feel about Ben Campbell maybe losing his face.

Blinking the spots from his vision, Ben picked himself up to run from the creature that was still pursuing them-- him, he realized. Because as he was turning to dash away, he watched as Morgan scrambled past him, shouting such incredibly insightful advice as she left. Bitchy fucking Beck was going to leave him to die-- or worse, have his face ripped off and masqueraded around on some disgusting creature. “Lord!” He swore as he ran across the quad, his tie whipping behind him as he sprinted away. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yanking open the nearest building’s door, he fumbled to pull his lanyard from his pocket, his staff keycard in hand. The top floors here were barred to relevant staff and he had access, he could go up there. Running towards the staircase, Ben chanced a glance behind him and saw that the creature had shoved open the doors of the building. A fresh spray of acid was shot his direction and he let out a yelp before slipping into the staircase.

Taking the steps three at a time, Ben hurried up the spiraling staircase and waved his keycard frantically at the heavy metal door. Green lights flashed over the electronic lock and he threw himself inside, slamming the door behind him. Sore, tired, and breathing hard, Ben slumped against the door and listened for the creature. He could hear it tearing through the stairwell, screeching and raging as it ran. But, it didn’t seem to know where he was. And he was fine with that. As the monster’s screeches faded, Ben was at last able to relax and reflect on just what exactly had happened. His mind was putting together all the pieces, forming a very hazy, very concerning picture.

About three things, Ben was absolutely positive. First, Morgan wasn’t human. Second, there was a part of her, and he wasn’t sure how large this part of her was, that was fine with him being dead. And third, he unconditionally, irrevocably hated her.

#heel face turn #wr ben #wr chatzy #wr ben chatzy

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 5 years

Text

We Could Be Heroes

Attending a university on the border between Xadia and Katolis, Callum and Rayla have been secretly together for a year now. Coming clean to their families is one thing. Announcing their relationship to the public is another.

_____________________________________________________________

“You know, if you want to talk to her you have to actually talk to her.” Callum was jolted out of his stupor as Claudia brought him back to reality. “I swear, you haven’t been this bad since before we dated. You’ve been pining after her for a year; maybe it’s time to say something.” Claudia was smirking while sipping her hot brown morning potion; the hustle and bustle of the university cafeteria completely ignored by the pair.

“She’s an elf, Claudia. A Moonshadow elf, at that. You know how they feel about humans.” Callum shifted the eggs on his plate in an efforts to distract himself from Claudia’s prodding.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you like her. And she might like you.”

Callum couldn’t stop the awkward laugh as he began to look everywhere but at his friend. “Don’t say things like that in public. What if someone-”

"What, Callum? Figures out you are crushing on a girl you’ve shared classes with since your first semester? She’s pretty and clever, and, from what Soren says whenever he goes to the gym, really athletic. You’d be stupid not to like her. You’re a prince and on your way to become an archmage. She wouldn’t be getting the short-end of the stick by liking you.”

“She doesn’t like me Claudia. Nothing is going to happen between us.” Claudia sighed before reaching over and patting Callum’s hand. “Why do you want something to happen between?”

Claudia shrugged before turning her neck to look at Rayla. “Because I want you to be happy. You light up when you talk about her and smile more after you work together. She makes you happy, Callum.”

Callum blushed and looked down at his own cup of morning potion. “Don’t tell anyone, Claudia.”

“Soren knows.”

Callum nodded his head from side to side a bit. “Why am I not surprised?”

_____________________

Rayla was doing her best to discreetly look at the two humans a few tables away. Her frequent project partner, Callum, and his friend, Claudia. Rayla and Claudia did not get along at first, mostly due to Claudia using dark magic while Callum had somehow managed to unlock Sky magic. Claudia still didn’t see anything wrong with dark magic and it made Rayla, and every other elf in their vicinity, wary of her. The other reason they didn’t get along? Claudia wouldn’t stop bugging Rayla about Callum.

“You’re looking at that human prince again, Rayla,” Bandlr, a fellow Moonshadow elf hissed. He was just a bit taller than Runaan and covered in toned muscles. The sloping purple marks on his cheeks reminded Rayla of the scythes used during harvest time. He exuded power and arrogance with every little move he made and tended to have either a scowl or a smirk on his face.

“I’m doing no such thing,” she stated absently.

“You better not or your uncle will be pissed.”

“Is that a threat?” Rayla glared over at him and could feel the energy crackling between the two. They lived in the same small town and had known most of the same people since high school. For Rayla, it had been hate at first sight, finding his arrogance and knowledge of her life the biggest turn-off she had ever encountered. He was a thorn in her side that just wouldn’t go away, no thanks to the other Moonshadow elves at the university not wanting to kick one of their own out without ‘proper cause’. For Bandlr, it had been lust at first sight. He spent all his time with Rayla either antagonizing her or trying to charm her. He had once told her that he wouldn’t mind it if she came to him in a fit of rage, just so long as she did.

“Maybe. You know how to shut me up.”

“You’re right. I do.” Rayla leaned in a bit, Bandlr smiling wide as she did. He never saw the punch that went straight to his jaw. “Try to talk with a sore jaw, asshole. Don’t forget, I’m faster than you and I was trained by the best.”

Bandlr glared as he massaged his already bruising jaw. The other elves at the table let the two be, already used to Bandlr’s flirts and Rayla’s violent reaction to them. Sadly for Rayla, it only made him convinced she was a ‘challenge’ for the ‘taking’. “To be fair, Rayla,” interjected a girl with long braids, “you spend a lot of time with this Prince Callum. I don’t think anyone back home would approve. Just because our school is on the border of Katolis and Xadia doesn’t mean you can go fraternizing with humans.”

“Ugh.” Rayla looked up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes. “For the last time, back off. I’m going back to the library.” Rayla grabbed her things, roughly pushed her chair in and stalked off, but not before bumping into Callum and Claudia. “Watch it.” Callum simply nodded as he turned away from her while Claudia raised a brow. “Got something to say?”

“The sexual tension between the two of you is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Just tell him you like him.”

“Mind your own business, Claudia.” Rayla walked as quickly as she could out of the cafeteria and headed towards the apartment complexes off-campus. She continued to look behind her and to the sides as she walked. Rayla eventually stopped in front of a luxurious apartment building and entered the large glass doors. The human doorman smiled and greeted her.

“Another project with Prince Callum, Miss Rayla?”

“You could say that. He texted me that he’s on his way, so I’ll wait for him by his door.”

“Of course, Miss Rayla.”

Up the elevator she went and waited in front of a door on the top floor. It was one of only two, reserved for important dignitaries. ‘Fucking Bandlr. When is he going to get it through his thick skull to leave me alone?’ Rayla’s hand grasped her bag as she bit her lip. ‘They know I’m spending a lot of time with Callum. Who else has noticed?’ She was pulled from her thoughts by a hand softly grasping her’s. “Callum.”

“We going to do that project, Rayla?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.” Callum nodded as he unlocked the key to his apartment and let her in first. Rayla was always struck by how minimalist Callum kept the large space. The base of the room was obviously expensive while Callum chose to hang his own art and art that one of his fathers had done. Pictures of his family were dispersed among the opulence of the walls and floors. The furniture was a different story, obviously on the cheaper end, but well taken care of. Callum had felt guilty taking the extravagant room so he had asked for cheaper materials to make his space a home while he was at school. “No one would ever believe me if I told them your apartment was the definition of high-low.” Rayla deposited her bag on the chair closest to the door, grabbing Callum’s bag and doing the same right after.

“You’ve been telling people that you come here?” The slight bit of hope in his voice was clear as day.

“No, of course not. If I did, they might think something was going on between us.” Callum looked down at the floor, that glint of hope suddenly dashed. “They don’t have to know anything is going on.” Rayla didn’t give Callum a chance to nod before she had his face in her hands and her lips against his. Callum wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure his door was locked. Rayla backed him up to his couch and they tumbled down, with her landing between his legs and his other hand landing on her back. “I’ve missed you.”

Callum groaned as she began to nibble at his neck. “It’s only been a week.”

“Uh-huh. A week of not seeing other or texting…or those naughty phone calls you seem so fond of.” Callum gulped. Rayla sat up and began to take off her top. “Pants off. Now.”

“You don’t want me to romance you a bit?” He brushed his hands lightly against her stomach, causing her to quiver above him.

“Later. Now, I just want you.” Callum took off his pants and boxers and laid back. Rayla pulled off her shirt and her own pants and underwear. She quickly climbed on top of him and grasped his length. “I’m gonna go fast and I’m gonna go hard. Alright?” He nodded, reaching to grab her hips. She had a lot of pent up frustration in her and Callum knew by now that it was wisest to let her take the lead. Rayla inserted Callum within her. They groaned together as Rayla grinded on top of him. Quickly picking up pace, she leaned back so her hands were resting on his legs.

Not fully satisfied, Rayla came back up and grabbed Callum by his shirt to pull him up to her. She sealed his lips to hers, grasping his shoulders to give her better leverage. Callum ran circles on her hips with his thumbs. Rayla broke the kiss to nibble at his ear. “Ray…”

“Almost, Callum. Almost.” Rayla had never been shy about what she wanted from him and she wasn’t going to start now. She took one of his hands from her hips to rest right on her clit. “You know what to do.” A sharp nod led to Callum leaning forward and nibbling on her shoulder while circling her. “Ah!”

Callum moved his head to whisper a husky ‘I love you’ in her ear. She quietly repeated it back, locking their lips again. A few thrusts more led Callum and Rayla to completion. He gently laid back, taking her with him. “I missed you, too.”

As they lay on his couch, covered in sweat and panting together, he ran his hand up and down her back. Rayla snuggled her face into his neck, mindful of her horns. “Mhmm, that feels nice.”

“Why did you punch Bandlr today?”

Good mood broken, Rayla broke out into a scowl. “Ugh, the jackass was getting on my nerves. Threatening to tell Runaan about me looking at you.”

“Oh. Would…would that really be such a bad thing?” His hopeful tone had come back full swing and Rayla hated crushing it.

“Callum, we’ve talked about this. Just because the elves and humans are no longer at war doesn’t mean that we’re at peace.”

“I don’t want us to be a secret, Rayla. Not anymore. It was nice, for a while, but I want to be more.”

“What more do you want? We have dinner together, we’re exclusive, I spend the night often enough. What more is there?”

Callum shifted so he could look Rayla in the eyes. “I want you to meet my Dad and Ezran. Well, you’ve met Ezran, but I want you to meet him as my girlfriend. I want to meet Runaan and Tinker and hold your hand on campus and-”

“And what happens if it blows up in our faces?” Rayla closed her eyes to try to keep he anger at bay. This wasn’t the first time they had argued about this and she didn’t want him to know exactly why she didn’t want to tell anyone about their relationship. “You do realize that Runaan could pull me out of school, right? Just because I’m an adult in Katolis doesn’t mean that he isn’t allowed to make those decisions for me in Xadia. The press will hound us both. Why do you want to ruin what we have?” She began to wriggle out of his hold, frustration making her want to move far away from him.

“Why are you scared of what we have?”

“I’m not scared.” Rayla got up, pulled on her underwear and began to move towards the kitchen, Callum following her as he pulled his own boxers up. She went into the cabinet and got a purple glass out as she looked back at him. “I have my own glass here, Callum. I have a whole drawer of my clothes in your apartment. Anyone who looks closely enough at my texts would know that I’ve been deleting more than half of the ones from you. I keep a freaking toothbrush in your bathroom! Do you think I would do any of that, of this, if I was scared?” Her arms were wide and disbelief on her face. Why couldn’t he understand just how big all of that was?

He gave her an incredulous look as the same frustration that had taken over her began to seep into his voice. “Yes, because you and I are the only people that know that any of your stuff is here.”

“I thought you wanted to stay out of the spotlight-”

“Don’t change the subject, Rayla. It has never been about us going public with the world. It’s about telling our families. It’s ALWAYS been about telling our families. Do you think I like telling Ezran that there is nothing between us? I have never had to keep secrets from him before and I don’t like doing it now.” Rayla understood that. Ezran was understanding and had a big heart. She couldn’t imagine anyone felt good after lying to him, least of all Callum.

“And what about your dear Aunt Amaya? Doesn’t she hate elves?”

“She’s marrying a Sunfire elf named Janai. Try again.”

Rayla paused as she looked at him with furrowed brows. “Is she really?”

“It’s all over the news in Katolis. ‘General of the Katolian Army chooses to marry a general of the Sunfire Corps.’”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.” A rough sigh followed by a groan as she got her thoughts back to the topic at hand. “Callum, I want to tell them. I would love to tell Runaan and Tinker about you.”

“Then why can’t we?”

“You don’t see the way the elves look at you. Not just the Moonshadow groups, but all the others. You’re a human prince, even if it is by marriage. King Harrow has not hidden how much he considers you to be his son and you have a target on your back from anyone who doesn’t like him. On top of that, you’re learning primal magic. There are elves that think you’re dangerous because you are the first human ever to learn how to use primal magic without a primal stone. Do you think that you being with an elf is really going to make them think ‘oh, that Prince Callum isn’t such a bad guy? Sure, he’s learning how to use primal magic and is trying to unlock the ability to use all six primal sources, but damn, he’s dating an elf.’”

“So, me wanting to learn magic the right way and rejecting dark magic is the problem?” Callum’s hands were in his hair at this point as Rayla looked ready to throw her glass on the floor. She quickly put it on the counter before she broke it.

“No, Callum. The problem is that you’re human. There are elves all over Xadia that will never accept you, accept us, no matter what you do.”

“Why do you care about them?”

“Because I don’t want to come home to you dead! OK?! I don’t want to walk into your apartment, after we went public or decided it was okay to make-out in the library, just to find your body or to have you end up dead in an alleyway.” All of Rayla’s fears began to pour out of her. She couldn’t stop once she started and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Callum needed to hear why she was fighting him on telling anyone about them. “I was trained in the arts of Moonshadow elf assassins. I know of ways to kill you and make sure that no one will ever find out it was me. And you can bet that I’m not the only one that knows that. Bandlr would be first in line if we went public and if he doesn’t succeed, someone else will. Runaan has a lot of respect among Moonshadow elves, but there are still many more elves and humans who will target you. Your life isn’t worth it, Callum. Us telling our families will only lead to the wrong person finding out.” She was so furious she never saw him walk around the counter to stand in front of her.

Callum grabbed her shoulders and put his forehead against her’s. “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? Of course I have! Just like I have a target on my back, you will have one on your’s. There are people all over the Pentarchy who want elves to stay in Xadia and humans to stay in their kingdoms. There was outrage when Dad announced I was going to school right on the border. When I told a newspaper that I was going to learn primal magic and refuse to learn dark magic, the number of human mages who rioted…I didn’t know there were that many in Katolis alone. And it would probably get much worse if they found out my girlfriend was an elf.”

“Then why is this so important to you?” Callum cupped her face and stroked her cheeks. It was getting harder to look meet his gaze when he looked at her with so much love and adoration.

“Because I love you. And I don’t want to hide it anymore. I know my family will love you and their opinion is the only one that matters to me. Claudia and Soren already keep pushing me to confess to you and Ezran thinks of you as his big sister. I never, ever would have introduced you to Ezran if I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted to be with you. I want to meet Tinker and Runaan and tell them I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. We won’t know unless we try, Rayla. We’ll get through this. Together.”

Rayla sighed as she looked Callum in the eye. The desperation in those green eyes of his let her know that he was serious about this. “If we try, and I mean if, you’re going to have to learn a lot more about Moonshadow elf culture. History class is one thing, but you can really, really piss Runaan off if you do the wrong thing.”

“Like what?” Callum moved his hands up to lightly run his fingertips over the base of one of her horns, sending shivers down her spine as a gasp left her lips. The burn in her belly she had just worked off was back full-force.

“Like that. In any elf culture, you might as well have grabbed my ass while your tongue was down my throat.”

“Noted. Horns are only for behind closed doors. Anything else?”

“Stop stroking my horn and maybe I’ll be able think.”

Callum released her with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I guess I can keep my hands off you for a few minutes.”

Rayla snorted as she lightly nudged him backwards. “We tend to spend a lot of time outdoors. Training is outside, lots of festivals and camping trips. It’s not unusual for families to spend nights when the moon is full in their yards. Weddings are outside, too, as are major parties, like birthdays, graduations, and anniversaries,” Rayla counted on her fingers. “Weddings tend to be the night before the full moon and the actual honeymoon starts on the night of the full moon. Something about the moon granting love and fertility and fidelity. When it rains, we go places that have large windows so we can still see the moon at night. Think you can handle all that time outside?”

“I’m sure I’ll make it work. I’ve had to rough it once or twice.”

“If by ‘rough it’ you mean spending time in the Banther Lodge, you are in for a rude awakening.”

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #tdp #rayla #prince callum #this first chapter does contain adult material #we could be heroes #moonbase fanfics

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icyhot-writes · 5 years

Text

Two Worlds Apart Part 1/?

Main Characters: OC Kamiko Kaori + Shoto Todoroki

Fandoms: Sailor Moon and Boku No Hero

Chapter Rated: SFW

My name is Kamiko Kaori, and I’m from Crystal Tokyo in the 30th Century! Or at least I was. I guess I should tell you I’m also Sailor Star Galaxy, the last generation in the Sailor Soldiers. I possess all the powers of the Other Sailor scouts, and was trained to be a last line of defense and to step in should any of the other scouts fall. During a fight with our latest enemy, the return of the Negaverse, a tear in space was ripped open. Sailor Pluto and I attempted to seal it up, but not before I was sucked in. That’s when I woke up in this archaic world, where almost everyone possessed some type of power. Or “Quirk” as they called it. But that was almost eight months ago. I thought Neo Queen Serenity would have come for me by now. But it seems that this new world was now my reality. And that brings us here! Standing at the gates of the esteemed U.A High School, wondering what I was possibly doing there.

“Hey Kamiko! You made it!” called Yaoyorozu, or as Kamiko knew her as, Momo. She ran towards Kamiko, two other girls at her side. Yaoyorozu had come across Kamiko within her first few days in the strange land. Hungry, beaten, and scared, Yaoyorozu showed pity on the girl and took her home. As she nursed Kamiko to health the two soon became friends. Eventually, Kamiko told Yaoyorozu her story, being Sailor Star, and how she ended up there. In return, Yaoyorozu taught her about their world of heroes and quirks. She was the only person Kamiko trusted. A few weeks ago, she convinced Kamiko to return to school, specifically…to apply to UA.

“Hey Momo.” Kamiko smiled at her. “Are these your friends?”

“Yes! Guys, this is that girl I told you about. Kaori Kamiko, Meet Uraraka and Ashido .” Momo introduces them.

“Is it true you’re an alien!?” the pink girl pushed forward, a little too close for comfort.

“Ashido!” Yaoyorozu scolds her. “I swear not everyone knows. Just Ashido, Uruaka and Jiro.”

Kamiko dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

“It’s okay. To be fair, the word Alien is relative. From my point of view, you guys are the aliens.” She joked with a smile. She used a hand to push a wisp of violet hair out of her face. "But I suppose I am. I’d rather not talk about it right now though. I have to stay focused for the entrance exam.”

“Right! Well come on! We’ll take you!” Uraraka smiled, grabbing Kamiko and dragging her through the campus. “It’s so rare that UA will make an exception and do an entrance exam mid-semester. You must have a crazy strong quirk!”

“Well uhm...something like that.” Kamiko stammered out, feeling her cheeks heat up. It was so weird going from a world where powers had hidden identities to a world where almost everyone had them. Even displayed them.

“Hey look!” Ashido pointed up at the building. “That’s Principal Nezu, All Might, Mr. Aizawa, Mr. Yamada, and Ms. Kayama. They must be waiting for you.”

“Huh? And that’s our homeroom class. I wonder why they are here.” Yaoyorozu stated curiously.

“Ah, Kamiko Kaori! Thank you for joining us this morning.” The …well…mouse spoke to her. I really needed to stop being so surprised at this point. She thought to herself. "Please bear with us, the arena is finishing being prepped. It is so rare an occasion we do exams like this in the middle of a semester; we needed to adjust a few things.”

“It’s I who should be thanking you.” Kamiko and bowed respectfully. “I am so grateful this opportunity Principal Nezu.”

The teacher who looked like he pulled one too many all-nighters stepped up. If Ashido named them in order, this should be-

“My name is Aizawa. This is my homeroom. They will be participating in the arena with you to keep things semi-fair like the normal exam. However, keep in mind each of the students here have not only passed the exam, but already have hero training. But seeing as this is an exceptional case, this shouldn’t be a problem.” He spoke in a monotone, bored voice. He turned to the group of students. “I doubt I need to say this but it’s in your best interest to try in this. This will be treated as pop quiz. Turn your attention to Present Mic and he will explain the rules.”

The next teacher to speak was the exact opposite of Aizawa.

“Alright Listeners, this may be a repeat for some of you but it’s a remix!” he spoke energetically, causing Kamiko to cringe. “Three different types of faux villains are stationed in each battle center. You earn points for each of them based on their level of difficulty. Your goal is to use your Quirks to earn points by immobilizing the faux villains. BUT THIS TIME, attacking other examinees is ALLOWED. Why? WELL because the zero-point villains that are normally robots will be some of your classmates. That’s right folks, some of your peers have been briefed beforehand and will be sabotaging the others as double agents!” he spoke with such enthusiasm even at the last part.

Kamiko’s violet eyes scanned the class for a clue on who may have been against her, but everyone looked equally shocked. She made contact with a boy with red and white hair. One brown eye. One blue. He turned away from her almost instantly. Kamiko continued to watch him until Momo bumped her.

“Gawk later. Pay attentinon.” she whispered. Kamiko rolled her eyes, tuning back in.

“Now remember young heroes! Attacking does NOT mean injuring. Although we have Recovery Girl standing by, that doesn’t mean you go all out. Use your best judgment on when to pull back.” All Might instructed. “Anyone caught using excessive force WILL fail.”

“This should be fun! I didn’t have to take the last exams.” Yaoyorozu whispered to her. “It’s cool to see what it was like.”

“I, uh, just have one question.” Kamiko spoke, a raising a hand.

“Yes Miss Kaori?” All Might answered her.

“I’m sure you’re aware, my “quirk” works differently, should I transform now or once the test has begun?” she asked, not wanting to break rules. This gains some looks from the other students, and she quietly cursed herself for drawing attention.

“Once the test has begun. After all, you can’t always prepare ahead in a real battle.” Principal Nezu smiled giddily. She nodded clutching the broach on her chest. It was similar to Sailor Moon’s and held a piece of the silver crystal handed down to her. “We shall all go to the observation room then. Good luck Miss Kaori. You as well my students!” With that All Might scooped up the teachers with a hearty laugh, and bounded into the air.

“Is he always like that?” she asked with an amused smile. But before anyone could answer, the doors to the exam slammed open. Everyone ran in, Kamiko at the back of the pack. She was going to need a boost. She ran towards the side of the tunnel using the wall to jump over the other students. “COSMIC PLANET POWER!” she yelled out mid-air, and began to transform into her sailor form.

Her violet hair released from its bun and flowed down her back as purple glowing ribbons wrapped around her body. She landed on the other side of the crowd, looking over her shoulder at them in her purple, black and white senshi outfit. They all were staring at her surprised, except for Momo who had seen her transform before. “Well? Are you all just going to stand there?” she smirked.

“She’s right!” an overly excited boy saluted, the engines in his legs boosting him towards the robots. “Sorry Ma’am, but this is competition! And Class 1A does not lose!” At that rate he was going to get to those bots before she could.

“Jupiter Thunder….” Kamiko yelled, crossing her hands like the former sailor had taught her. An antenna rose from her tiara. “CRASH!”

“Iida jump!” Yaoyorozu warned her classmate. He did as he was told, just narrowly avoiding her thunder blast at the robots.

“Whoa! A thunder quirk!” A boy with spiky green hair gasps.

She smiled to herself, watching as the robots twitched and fell.

“We’ve got to slow her down!” He moved toward her with incredible speed, a green light shooting around his body. Kamiko jumped back, just barely dodging his hand grabbing at her. Another hand grabbed her shoulder. It was rock hard, but still she managed to flip them onto to the ground, a blur of red hair catching her eye as she slammed them.

“Sorry!” she winced before running off.

I need to get away from the group as fast as possible. She thought looking for a solution. High ground would be best so I can survey what I’m up against. She spots a building with an overhang and ran towards it.

“Venus Love Me Chain!” she yelled and the heart shape golden chain latched on to the edge. Kamiko jumped into the air, the chain pulling her higher, kicking a few more robots down as she went.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” A yell came from behind her. A blonde boy with spiky hair was using blasts from his hands to chase after her. The look of anger on his face was terrifying. “I WON’T LOSE TO YOU!”

She removed her broach and willed it into Pluto’s staff. It quickly took the form and she aimed it at the boy. “Deadly Scream!” the sonic blast hits him and the neighboring robots, sending them all back towards the ground, a slew of profanities leaving his mouth. “Nothing personal!” Kamiko yelled back just as she reached the top of the building.

Everyone seems to be either fighting amongst themselves or the other robots. Kamiko looked down trying to think which attack would only harm the robots, when a wall of ice suddenly hurtled towards her, knocking out tons of robots simultaneously. She went to avoid it but was too slow. The ice began to encase her, grounding her feet in place. She pressed her hands together. “Mars Fire Ignite!” The fire shot out and circled her, melting the frosty cage in the process. On the outside of the wall, the boy with the half white, half red hair looked at her with that same stoic face from earlier. Did that attack come from him?

“So, you have a fire quirk as well.” He said coolly. Stating the obvious much?

“It will take more than a measly snow globe to keep me down.” She huffed twirling the staff in her hand. He didn’t answer her, instead examining her, most likely thinking of what move to do next. He shot another ice blast, but it avoided her, instead taking out the robots on her flank. She looked at him curiously. That attack was too precise to have been an accident. If he was a double, why would he help her?

“Thank you.” She said softly. He still didn’t answer, instead running at her, an icy chill escaping from his lips. He began shoot ice blast after blast at her. Or Not. She thought breaking the attacks with her staff. What was with this guy? She moved to evade him and he formed another ice wall to block her path. That’s when she put it together. He was making her waste time on him. Bastard can’t block what he can’t see. “Mercy Bubbles Blast!” she yelled, making a thick mist. She danced around him making noise with her staff to confuse him on her location. But he was smarter, fire blasts began to shoot out, not only shocking her, but causing her mist to thin out. “Venus love me chain!” She shot the chain in the direction the flames came from, trapping his body. Or what she thought was his body. When she pulled, the chain tightened but didn’t budge. Even if he was stronger, she should have felt a little tug. The mist continued to thin out and she saw she had actually wrapped around a pole. Shit. “Mirror.” she said softly, planning to use Neptune’s Mirror to see where he was hiding. But as the staff morphed, a warm hand grabbed her, pushing her against the pole.

The cold sharp point of an icicle was pointed at her neck. “You put up quite a fight.” His icy breath whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her. “but you’re done now.” Anger radiated through her body. How could she fall for such a ploy?

“You’re the one who’s done.” She spoke through gritted teeth. She slowly angled the mirror until she saw his reflection in it. “Submarine..Reflection.”

The mirror shot out a bright blast, forcing him back and onto the ground. “Mars Flame Sniper!” she said and her fire took the shape of a bow and arrow. She shot Four hours into his shirt, pinning him, even if it’s for a moment. “Stay down, please.” the violet haired girl begged. “ I need this.”

To her surprise, he laid his head back, not resisting. Kaori ran to the edge of the building, looking down at the other students fighting the robots. She aimed her bow, and began to shoot the flaming arrows at as many robots as she could manage. Then a loud buzzer rang through her ears.

“TIMES UP!” Present Mic’s voice boomed through the air. She disarmed her bow, the fire disappearing in thin air, as well as the arrows pining the boy. Was that last attack enough to make up for lost time?

The sound of ice crinkling caught her attention as a large ice slide formed down the building. Her opponent stood at the edge and then slid down to the bottom. Kamiko rewrapped her chain around the pole and jumped off the building. Once at the bottom, she detransformed to her normal clothes and the broach returned to its place on her chest. Quick hands began to return her hair into it’s messy bun. She made eye contact with Uraraka who quickly ran over to her. “Kaori, that was incredible! “She smiled, hugging Kamiko tightly. “I had no idea you were that powerful.”

“You even held your own against Todoroki! And he’s our strongest classmate!” Ashido appeared giddily.

“HE IS NOT!” The voice of the angry blonde boy from earlier boomed. He pushed through the crowd toward her, and she had half the mind to turn back into Sailor Star Galaxy. “You may be strong, but you’re not stronger than me GOT IT?! Neither is Icy Hot! I will Destroy-“

His voice cut off as a red headed boy clamped a literal, rock hard hand across his mouth.

“Sorry about Bakugo. Just ignore him, it’s what most of us do.” he smiled at her as he held the other boy back. “I’m Kiroshima! And you were seriously awesome! I didn’t see that flip coming!”

“Oh that was you?” Kamiko remembered the person she had slammed earlier, and put two and two together. “I really am sorry! Are you alright?”

“No worries! My quirk is hardening. Takes a lot more than a few body slams to hurt me.” Kiroshima chuckled. “Speaking of, you have some major quirks yourself. How many do you have?”

“I counted six! Thunder, Chain, Fire, Bubbles, Sonic Waves and that transformation in the beginning! ” the green hair boy from earlier ran up. “Do your quirks only work after that? It must be why you asked principle Nezu. And is that staff thing apart of you? How did you get so many quirks?” he shot question after question; Kamiko barely able to keep up. Her back pressed against the stone wall of the building behind her as the rest of the students gathered around her, eager for answers.

“I..well..” she said softly, not used to so much attention at once. Just as it was becoming too much, an ice wall thin enough to see through separated her from the rest of the group. She turned her head and at the end stood Todoroki.

“, Enough.” he said in a monotone voice. They locked eyes for a moment. “Let her breathe.”

“Oh… Sorry Kaori.” Midoriya apologized and the boy let the wall down once everyone took a step back.

“It’s okay. I’m just not used to so much attention.” Kamiko gave a sympathetic smile to him. She looked over at Todoroki, but he was already walking away from them. Her lips curved into a frown.

“Amazing Job Students!!” All Might’s voice bellowed, as he and the other teachers came from seemingly nowhere.

Aizawa sighed getting in front of All Might. “As I’m sure you all figured out, Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kiroshima were all on the double agent roster. They were all able to secure multiple sabotages while continuing to attack robots. From lowest to highest, Kiroshima, Midoriya, Bakugo, and Todoroki.”

“DAMN YOU DEKU!! ” Bakugo screamed, as Kiroshima sighed next to him, placing another solid hand on the boy’s mouth. Kao Midoriya ri assumed it was a common occurrence as Aizawa ignored the boy.

“Additionally, everyone can see their scores in the post outside. However, I will announce the top three scores for our non-double agents. In third place, with 30 points, was Tanya Iida.” The boy with rockets in his legs smiled, but there was a small hint of sadness in it. At least your scores don’t depend if you get to stay Kamiko thought nervously. Aizawa continued. “In second place, Momo Yaoyorozu with 32 points. And lastly-“Aizawa was cut off by the excitement of All Might.

“KAMIKO KAORI!! 40 points!” He bellowed.

“First place…that means…. that means she got in right?!” Momo asked excitedly. All might opened his mouth but was shushed by Aizawa.

“Yes, against better council, she technically did.” Aizawa spoke harshly. “But I want to make it clear it is on a probationary basis. Any screw ups and you’re out. And to ensure a decent eye is kept on you, you’ll be in my homeroom. Look around you. These are your new classmates.”

“But sir! She’s a first year. She would have to pass her hero’s examination, receive her probationary license, midterms, finals. I understand she’s powerful but UA’s standards-”

“For reasons I’ll leave up to her to discuss with you all, she’s been considered a special case by the principal. The decision has been made, regardless of any disagreements.” Aizawa shut him up. Kamiko flinched at the harsh tone in the man’s voice. His words said one thing, but his tone implied he agreed with Iida. “Yaoyorozu, you’re excused for the remainder of the day. Help Kaori get situated in her dorm, in her uniform, the works. You’re all dismissed.”

#bnh #twa #boku no hero fanfic #shoto todoroki #todoroki #sailor moon fanfic #bnha fic #bnha #bnha.sfw

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softhaos · 6 years

Text

RAPID EYE MOVEMENT

pairing – wen junhui x reader genre – humor + acting major!junhui + sorta tom and jerry relationship i guess description – it’s another day and another attempt to take pictures of junhui and get a good grade in photography class. alternatively, junhui plays you once again and you remain a dumbass. warning – some not-so-heavy insults here and there word count – 3,380 words author’s note – this wasn’t supposed to see the light of day until i published the long ass introduction to jun’s route but i did it anyway pls enjoy uwu

set in the victorious universe | can be read as a standalone

“The grades were distributed evenly this time, so pairing up is going to be simple: Asshats form a duo with Bitches. Cocksuckers, get yourself a Dickhead as a partner,” Seungkwan hollers.

You frown as you see the big fat ‘C’ at the top right-hand corner of your evaluation sheet. You had a relatively good feeling about your acting abilities at the last evaluation test but looking back at it, you start to share the opinion that your performance was average at best. Some gestures were forced, your expressions were exaggerated and your voice was strained at times. It takes you a sideways glance to see that you’re not the only one who overestimated themselves this time.

“Cocksucker,” Mingyu mouths at you before he runs his fingers through his hair; an act of exasperation he does out of habit instead of letting his frustration show on his face.

It takes you a second before the light bulbs go on in your head. You wonder why nobody has complained that Seungkwan, who is the TA and younger than the majority of students in this class, substitutes letters for unoriginal insults. Isn’t this what they call abuse of power? This definitely is an abuse of power. However, nobody doesn’t really seem to mind, even the ones who passed the evaluation with flying colors.

It’s quite easy to identify the grades the other people got. It’s a little hard to distinguish the B students from the C students, but whereas the B students let a hint of satisfaction linger on their faces for a while longer, the C students are either glad they didn’t rank in the worst grade or are simply frustrated. You and Mingyu fall into the latter. Pure mortification coats the faces of the D students and everything else, meaning happiness or the just-as-expected look, are the expressions of the A students.

Junhui is an A student, so he falls into the category Asshat.

His reaction is barely visible, it’s nothing more than a slight twitch of the corners of his mouth before he busies himself in cheering up an extremely whiny Seokmin. Yeah, he definitely is one of the Dickheads today.

You admit a C is totally fine. Given that it was your first evaluation test in the past few months and it’s still the beginning of the new semester, a C is a good starting point. There’s a lot of room for improvement and–

Who are you kidding, you hate that you delivered an average performance. And with Seungkwan’s restriction that as a C student, you must take a D student for the next assignment, you hate it even more. It’s not that you don’t want to work with someone who did even worse than you did, but you had the perfect scenario planned out in your head to prepare for Professor Jang’s assignment and emerge victoriously.

You still haven’t forgiven Junhui for playing you the last time and you never will unless you get your justice and get a good shot of him for your portfolio. It’s sad how you worry more about passing the subject you’re minoring in instead of the one you’re majoring in. But it’s Professor Jang after all, and you rather resort to more unethical morals than crushing under her agonizingly high standards to even get a satisfactory grade.

If it weren’t for Seungkwan and his stupid grade restriction, you would’ve called the dibs on Junhui, work with him for the next partnered assignment and secretly take pictures of him to throw into your portfolio and shove up Professor Jang’s face, since she absolutely adores him. At least there is a tiny loophole to pass her classes with ease. Bless Junhui’s impressive history as a child actor back in China. Maybe not bless him completely though, just a quarter. You’d rather throw him off a cliff first until you get a goddamn picture of him.

“Ah, I’m fucked,” you huff and carelessly drop the sheet on your desk.

“Being a cocksucker isn’t the end of the world,” Mingyu starts and you’re quick to cut him off.

“Don’t ever, ever use ‘cocksucker’ in that context again. And no, I wasn’t referring to my grade. Okay, it has a little to do with it but I am fucked in a sense of I can’t partner up with Jun–”

“I see where this is going.” Mingyu shakes his head and adds, “Don’t break your head about photography class too much. It isn’t even your major!”

“But it’s Professor Jang! I have every right to stress about my minor. Plus, I still need my payback after that stunt Junhui pulled on me.”

“As if it was that bad.”

“I snuck onto Professor Jang’s computer and found her stan twitter and Tumblr account. Not to forget her old ao3 account where she posted Marvel and Haikyuu fanfics. If that doesn’t sound like a traumatic experience to you then I don’t know anymore,” you deadpan. This isn’t supposed to spread amongst the students because you are certain, at one point someone is going to find out that it was you who found out and then Professor Jang is going to give you literal hell.

Also, you really don’t want to recall any of Professor Jang’s writings from back when she was still a student. (It’s not that her writing was bad, but her writing fanfiction out of all things is the last thing you expected from her.)

“Oh.” is everything Mingyu can fire back with.

You sigh and focus on the problem at hand. If you can’t secretly take pictures of Junhui at a convenient setting, then you’d have to either wait for a new opportunity like this or actually resort to borderline stalking him. As handsome as he is (of course you admit that, everyone can agree that he is indeed a very handsome guy) you don’t want to stoop as low as some other photography students who really go through with the latter for the sake of Professor Jang. But then again, doesn’t taking snapshots of him without his consent also count as stalking?

No, it’s all for a good cause. One picture never killed anybody before, not at this university, that is.

You’re so immersed in your thoughts that you don’t realize someone is standing in front of you until they tap your shoulder. You flinch and look up to a smiling and visibly calmer Seokmin.

“Hey, are you still free for a partner? I mean, only if you’re a C student. I’m sorry if you’re not one. It’s just, I overheard Mingyu saying that being a C student isn’t the end of the world and he directed it at you and–”

Before Seokmin ultimately becomes a tongue-tied mess, you say, “Sure.”

A wave of relief washes over Seokmin but his happiness fades away the moment Mingyu decides to butt in. “Good luck with Y/N’s current state. Y/N will need at least a week to cool down and focus on the assignment instead of complaining about not being Jun’s partner.”

You snap your head at Mingyu, staring him down with your what the actual fuck look and hastily defend yourself. “I swear, it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be! The context in this is so wrong–”

However, your defense falls on deaf ears.

“So… you’re crushing on Jun?” Seokmin asks in disbelief. Genuine curiosity is etched on his face and there’s no trace of disappointment whatsoever.

“Of course not!” you snort and you’re pretty sure that your pupils are shaking, desperately looking for any justified explanation that is not playing his fansite for a moment. “It’s just– uh, you know how they say that he’s the best actor on campus. I thought that’d be the best approach to ace the next evaluation.”

Thank God Seokmin is oblivious and doesn’t question the obvious lie you threw at him. Up until now, Mingyu has witnessed the entire situation and this time, he’s the one who sends you the what the fuck look. He’s about to interject and expose your true nature, but Seokmin is quick to respond.

“Maybe I can get Jun and his partner to practice with us a few times. No, not maybe, I’ll definitely succeed in that.” he smiles brightly, just as if he has hit the greatest realization.

You lift your brows in surprise and go along with him. “That’d be awesome! You think you could really arrange that?”

“Yeah!” he nods excitedly before agreeing to meet up sometime later in the week and skips back to his seat.

“I can’t believe you actually managed to do that. Seokmin basically handed you the invitation to be near Jun.” Mingyu deadpans.

You send him an innocent smile and shrug. “What can I say? Karma loves me.”

You recall that Professor Jang used to write Kagehina fanfiction and her bookmarks on ao3 all consisted of homosexual plot without porn. You could care less about her sexual preferences or orientation or whatever the right term is, but you’re pretty damn sure that she’d act like one of those Tumblr stans whenever they see two members of the same group up close and personal with each other. The picture of Professor Jang’s adoration for Junhui is up to the roof (at least, that’s what you think) so if you put these two elements together, she would explode.

Honestly, you can see the appeal of it. The real question is, who does not want to see Junhui trapping Seokmin against the wall like they usually do in romance anime?

“Don’t be panicked, Seok. The love interest is supposed to stay unbothered!” Kyulkyung, Junhui’s partner, shouts beside you.

“I would like to be unbothered but it’s impossible when he’s literally breathing down my neck!” Seokmin whines back and tries to become one with the wall, lurching away from Jun. The latter, however, isn’t having it and rearranges his hands even closer to Seokmin’s head, up until the point where he slunks down and tries to escape from below.

That seems to seal the deal because Junhui immediately retreats and lets out a long sigh. “Seok, you need to relax.”

“I want to see you try to stay still with someone invading your personal space,” Seokmin mutters back as he looks over the script again. “We’ve already established that Y/N is the love interest, so why am I taking over this role?”

“I was just demonstrating how intimidating you have to be so that Y/N can pull off the role well. The love interest is supposed to feel uncomfortable but try to stay sane about it. You get it so far?”

“Yes!” Seokmin exclaims. Jun, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too convinced yet and sends Kyulkyung a pleading look.

“Kyul, can you try the lead on him?”

Without hesitation, Kyulkyung jumps up from her seat and marches over to the front of the auditorium. “You ready?” she asks Seokmin with a sweet and encouraging smile.

“Whenever you’re– eek!” Seokmin lets out a shrill high-pitched shriek when Kyulkyung slams both of her hands beside his head, invades his personal space even more than Junhui did and stares up at him coldly. It takes your best to not fall on the floor out of laughter and it looks like Junhui is having a hard time suppressing a devilish grin.

“I think I’m gonna get some drinks. This is making me tired. Anyone want something? Seokmin?” Kyulkyung instantly drops the boldface and returns to her usual, bubbly personality. Seokmin, still in shock and so close to suffering from heart palpitations, slides down the wall and only brings out a shaky nod.

“Water for him if you don’t mind,” you shout from the audience. Kyulkyung rogers that and is about to take off when Junhui says,

“Seok looks like he needs to say the light of day. You mind taking him with you?”

“You’re right. He does look like he’s about to die soon,” Kyulkyung agrees and crouches down to his level. “C’mon, let’s get some snacks.”

“Huh? Y-yeah, sure.” Even his legs are wobbly when Kyulkyung pulls him on his feet. Luckily, it doesn’t take long until he doesn’t walk like a drunk guy and with that, only two were left in the auditorium.

It’s not that you aren’t on speaking terms with Junhui, but the silence is still comfortable for you. Junhui wastes no time and picks up the script, his nose scrunching up a few times as he mumbles the words under his breath. You remain seated in the front row, your own script covering the lower half of your face. With him concentrating on memorizing the words, it’s the perfect time to snag some snapshots.

(You would’ve taken pictures of Junhui sandwiching Seokmin, but you don’t want to burden Seokmin even more and include him in your portfolio without his consent.)

You fish your phone out of your pocket and carefully let the camera lens peak over the script, your eyes flickering between Junhui and Junhui on the screen. He seems to remain oblivious and you pray that Kyulkyung and Seokmin won’t return anytime soon.

He suddenly stops talking and you hide your phone completely, feigning innocence. Junhui doesn’t pay you any attention though and rolls his shoulders back before he picks up his practice. However, this time he’s started to walk around the stage and swing his free arm around. You don’t see how in the world doing some exercises whilst practicing his lines is doing him any good right now.

Things start to go downhill for you the moment he drops the script and cages air between him and the wall. With the quick, sharp movements he’s doing, it’s pretty much impossible to take a clean shot of him. Even if it’s Junhui, Professor Jang won’t accept any blurry photograph as satisfactory. Also, you want to spare yourself from overusing Photoshop on one single picture.

You’re so immersed in holding up your script as natural as possible and simultaneously trying to find a good angle with your phone that you completely miss the presence sneaking from behind you.

“You're supposed to be practicing, not be on your phone, my dear child!”

You welp and instantly drop the phone on your lap followed by the script as you crane your head back and see Professor Yee towering above you. You’ve got used to his rather… eccentric choice of clothing and lollipop in his mouth.

“How long have you been standing there?!” you squeak and stand up, your phone and script now tucked under your arm. “Also, don’t scare a student like that!”

“I’ve got my ways, Y/N,” Professor Yee singsongs before he pays Junhui some attention too. “I just wanted to stop by. I didn’t know that you two decided to pair up for the upcoming evaluation!”

“We’re not!” both of you deny that claim in sync.

Not seeming to connect the dots, Professor Yee tilts his head to the side. “Why not?”

“Because he’s an asshat! I’m a cock–” he suddenly shoots you a horrified expression and then you get what you just said. Oh, fuck Seungkwan.

“Y/N’s a C student and I’m a got an A in the last evaluation. We decided to practice together as four with our respective partners several times,” Junhui steps in for you.

“How marvelous!” Professor Yee exclaims excitedly and drops down on one of the chairs. “I guess that you–” he points at Junhui, “–are the lead and you–” he gestures to you, “–are preparing the love interest. Isn’t that right?”

“Um, yeah,” you nod.

“Good! Then action!”

You need a while for the words to process in your brain. “Wait what?”

“I wanna see what you’ve done so far!”

“But we’re not partners–”

“Who cares? It’s not the official monthly evaluation yet, is it?”

“He’s right,” Junhui mimics, “It’s not the official evaluation yet, so let’s go through it once!”

With Professor Yee’s expectant eyes gleaming at you and Junhui’s indirect challenge, you have no other choice than to comply. Sighing, you place your script and phone on the chair and huff, “Fine. Let’s get it over already.”

While you and Junhui are slowly getting into character, Professor Yee picks up your script, flips through the pages and reads the instructions out loud with way too much enthusiasm. “Scene one, act three. Person A is completely done with B’s bullshit and decides to confront them then and there. Action!”

Junhui slams both of his hands beside your head as a sly smirk adorns his lips. “We need to talk.”

For a second, you’re starstruck. The guy just a few inches away from you is no longer Junhui pretending to be someone. It’s like he’s completely taken over the role and Junhui doesn’t exist right now. His hooded eyes hint danger and his close proximity causes goosebumps to form on your skin. You know you’re slightly shaking and now you understand why Seokmin had acted the way he did. You really didn’t expect Junhui’s acting to be so overwhelming.

But unlike Seokmin, you manage to stay in character.

“Are you serious? Get off me,” you spit out the words filled with disgust and try to push him away. He doesn’t give in though and instead, forces himself on you even more up to the point where his breath hits your face.

“We need to talk.”

You purse your lips and try your best to stay unaffected while he continues. “I don’t appreciate you doing things behind my back when they very much concern me too. I may have let it slide once or twice, but if I ever see you trying to take pictures of me in a painfully obvious way one more time, you’ll regret it.”

Wait a minute. That’s not part of the script. That’s definitely not part of the script.

Your mouth goes dry and your cheeks heat up once you realize he’s known all along. Suddenly, you feel like becoming one with the wall just like Seokmin.

“That’s not part of the script!” you scream and break out of character, pushing him away from you but that’s not enough to wipe the wicked grin out of his face.

“So what? You should’ve gone with it instead of breaking character! Ten minus points for Slytherin!” Professor Yee fires back. “There’s this thing called improvisation, y’know?”

You scoff at that lame justification. “That’s not the point of this evaluation!”

“But this isn't the official evaluation, my child.”

Beside you, Junhui can barely contain his laughter. It takes all of your might to not punch him in the gut.

“My work here is done,” Professor Yee stands up and dusts of imaginary dust of his pants. “You’re both doing a great job. Well, see you in the next lesson!”

Both you and Junhui force feign innocence until the professor is out the door. The moment the door falls in its lock, Junhui turns at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Heh, you’re easy to catch off guard. It’s even more amusing than seeing Seokmin go wild at parties.”

“Oh shut up.”

“I can’t believe you called yourself a cocksucker in front of the professor,” he snickers.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just suck it up and be my goddamn model for one an hour!” you scowl back at him.

Just as if you just flipped a switch in him, you suddenly find yourself pressed up against the wall. Junhui’s expression is teasing, but there’s something else lies under it. Whether it’s pissed off or you really want to be killed huh, you can’t really deduce. Whatever it is, it’s not necessarily calming.

“I wasn’t joking when I said that,” he smiles at you. It’s not the genuine smile that makes you feel welcome, but the genuine smile that promises he won’t break this promise.

He’s about to add on to that when the door flies open and Kyulkyung awkwardly asks, “We’re not interrupting something, aren’t we?”

“Nope! Just acting!” you say and push Junhui away. At least he has the decency to play along and keep your dispute a secret.

What he doesn’t keep for himself though, is that Professor Yee popped in and how you called yourself a cocksucker in front of him.

#seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #junhui scenarios #junhui fluff #jun fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #junhui au #seventeen au #svt au #i'm so lazy with my titles for the victorious series i'm just taking song titles #i can't believe i really decided to include the c********* joke #i guess there's a little spoiler for the plot of jun's intro?#+ i didn'T intend to have mingyu make a cameo here too but oh well #someone slap me fr my humor and the fact that i laughed at it too #dw awkward jun is going to emerge soon

214 notes · View notes

ninjamidnight · 6 years

Text

Kisses

Words: 2412

Warnings: Implied sex, language, consumption of alcohol

Summary: Audrey has five life-changing kisses

Author’s Note: I’ve never posted one of my short stories before so be kind and I hope you enjoy!

@sunshine-marvel-hearts

I have had five monumental kisses in my life and they all came from the same man.

The first kiss had been an escape. It was the first party of the college semester and it was massive. I'm talking massive. Nearly all of the school appeared except for those that wanted to study for exams months away. I was one of those people, but my friends had dragged me to this. I stood uncomfortably at the bar, holding a glass of something I wasn't familiar with. I leaned against the bar, watching my friends laugh and dance themselves into a frenzy. I was getting increasingly uncomfortable. I had noticed a shady looking boy-man watching me from over his drink. The whole night he had followed me around the party and I couldn't shake him.

I downed my drink, covering up a harsh cough as the drink burned its way down my throat. I turned my back on the creep and immediately ducked into a crowded hallway, hoping to lose him. I didn't. The kid relentlessly followed me, pushing people out of the way to get to me. I picked up my pace, heart pounding heavily in my chest. The blood roared in my ears. I was running blindly. I fled around the corner, knocking straight into a very firm chest. I stumbled, but firm hands gripped my arms.

"Whoa there, love," a thick voice chuckled and I tilted my head back to come face to face with the Eros of this century. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Storm gray eyes. Thick blond hair. And very familiar. Where had I seen him before? I heard a shout and I saw the creep apologize to some college kid he ran into. I turned frantically to the god in front of me.

"Save me," I pleaded, grabbing the front of his jacket. He glanced above me. His gaze hardened. Apparently, the dots connected in his head because he cupped my cheek with one hand, dropping the other to my hip. He slanted his mouth over mine, enveloping me in a firm kiss. My gasp of shock was swallowed by his lips as he kissed me. Good god, I thought hopelessly, melting into him. His lips were soft, yet firm against mine. He commanded the kiss, drawing my tongue out to play. I couldn't help the tiny moan that slipped out as he pulled away. My knees nearly gave out. I blinked several times to regain full vision and I looked up at him. He was smirking.

"Well that was definitely a pleasant way to save a girl," he released my face and I was almost disappointed, but the hand fell to my waist as he held me against him.

"I, uh, thank you," I stammered and I forced myself to step back. I didn't need to be around him more than I had to. He could be worse than the creep.

"Do I get a name out of you?" He asked, placing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His face was all smug and I wanted to be angry at him, but he had saved me. I could play coy with him. My friends had told me to be a little more free-spirited.

"Maybe if I see you again," I patted his arm with a flirtatious smile before disappearing into the crowd. I brought my hands up to my lips which still tingled from the intensity upon which he kissed me.

The second kiss had been months later, just after we had been released for summer break. I hadn't forgotten the kiss from the party and it still haunted me in my dreams. Every time one of my boyfriends had kissed me that god appeared in my mind.

I finally figured out who he was. He was a transfer student from Russia. His parents were filthy rich and wanted to send their only heir away from the war in the west. I had only gotten this information because I had friends in high places and I was nosey.

Like every summer, it needed to be started off with a bang. For this party, only the 'elite' were invited. Somehow, I made it onto that list. I had become much more confident at parties now, that stunning kiss had awoken my inner siren.

I sat atop the counter, laughing at something some boy said. I went to hop off the counter when two hands dropped to either side of my hips. I looked up sharply, parting my lips to tell whoever it was to fuck off when I saw my savior. My eyes widened and my heartbeat started to go off the charts. His familiar smirk entranced me.

"Hello, love," he grinned at me, leaning towards me. I leaned back, propping my hands up behind me to keep myself from falling.

"Ah, Leo," his eyes widened a fraction at the sound of his name, but the smirk never left his lips, "what a surprise. May I get down?" He quirked a brow, moving an arm so I could hop down off the counter.

"Well, you happen to know my name. It's only fair if I know yours. I did happen to find you again," he added teasingly as I sauntered past him into the dimly lit hallway. The party throbbed in the living room only a few yards away from the kitchen. I could feel Leo's eyes on my back as I walked away. Good. Let him follow.

"I said maybe," I called over my shoulder with a laugh, "if you recall." I barely had the chance to enter the dark hall when a firm hand grabbed my wrist. My world spun on its axis as I got pressed against the wall. Heat bloomed in my lower body as his firm body pressed against mine. Gosh, he was so much taller than me. I looked up at him. His hair fell over his eyes as he stared down at me, hunger burning its way through his eyes.

"I do recall, but I also happen to remember the way you tasted and the way you felt," he growled, his breath hot against my face. I closed my eyes, letting out a shaky breath as the memory of his lips flooded my mind. No kiss had ever been that good. I brought my hands to his belt loops, securing his hips against mine.

"The name is Audrey," I breathed and he dropped his lips to mine, sealing my mouth to his with one earth-shattering breath. A heartbeat passed and he brought his hand up to cup the back of my head, deepening the kiss with a skill only a master could have. I felt white hot jealousy burn through my core as the thought of him kissing another woman popped into my mind and I tugged on his bottom lip with my teeth in retaliation, eliciting a groan from him. That small sound sent heat straight to my core and I knew I was in for one hell of a night.

The third monumental kiss happened about a year later. That one night had turned into two nights which had turned into two weeks and that two months. Our heat only escalated from there. He was a complete animal in bed. Leo had stamina only men in stories boasted about having. I had the real deal.

The day of our one year anniversary, Leo said nothing to me about it. I simply brushed it off, dropping hints lovingly throughout the day, but he didn't pick it up. I'd had enough by the end of the day and I was spent.

“Leo,” I turned to him. We were curled up in his dorm room. His roommate had rightly left as soon as I had entered declaring he had other places to be. My boyfriend didn't look up from his place against my neck, but his answering hum was good enough response for me.

“Leo, do you know what today is?” I asked, leaning away from him so I could look him in the face. His dark eyes narrowed in thought and anger flashed like a knife in my chest.

“May 28th?” He asked, running a hand through his hair. I pushed him away from me as I scrambled off the bed.

“No, you asshat, it's our one anniversary!” I snapped and his eyes widened a fraction. He looked momentarily surprised before relaxing. Fury shot through my veins like adrenaline.

“Oh, of course, happy-”

“Don't you fucking dare!” I shouted, “I gave you all day to do something about it and you've done nothing!” He sat up sharply.

“I didn't think I had to say anything!” He retorted sharply. His chest was very distracting and I turned away from him. I searched for a shirt and spotted one lying on the floor. I lunged for it.

“You didn't think- what?! Why the hell not?” I turned back to him, throwing him the shirt, “you're very distracting put that on.”

“I'm not putting a shirt on. I happen to like being naked,” he retorted childishly, “and I didn't think I had to do anything because I thought me being here with you would be enough. Gosh woman, don't you know that I love you?” He sighed in exasperation. I spun away from him about to scream once more but his last words stopped me. I turned on my heel, narrowing my eyes.

“What'd you say?” I asked slowly. It didn't really click. No guy had ever said those words and meant it. I needed to hear it again.

“I love you, Drey,” he rolled his eyes, falling back against the pillows, “I thought you knew.” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. My heart skipped a beat in my chest. I moved across the room to the bed. I slowly eased back onto the bed and straddled him.

“Say it again,” I whispered, leaning over his body. His eyes opened slowly and our eyes connected. He cupped my face with a hand, licking his lips.

“I love you,” he breathed and brought my lips to his. It was unlike any kiss we had shared before. There was no tugging passion that sent my heart soaring. No, this was gentle and delicate and loving. The kiss said everything he could never say aloud. It was more than a kiss. It was a promise.

The fourth kiss shattered that promise. It was several months later around Christmas that it occurred. I stood in that same dorm room, tears pouring down my face. My hands were knotted into the shirt that he had given me. I refused to believe that this was happening. I swallowed thickly, watching as he kept his back to me as he packed.

He had told his parents about me as soon as he told me he loved me. Of course, after he showed me how much he did. They had been less than happy he had chosen an American girl as his lover and declared he break it off with me. He'd refused and they had given him until Christmas to break it off or they would take drastic measures.

He had broken it off the day before Christmas. “You don't know what they'll do to me, to you, if I don't go,” he said, “they'll hurt you.” He said. I had screamed at him in rage and hurt, but it had fallen on deaf ears.

He had finished packing fully and he kept his back to me as he zipped up his suitcase

“Drey-”

“Don't call me that,” I hissed. He turned to face me and I was angry that tears pooled in his eyes.

“Look,” he rolled his eyes at me, “you had to know this was going to end. You didn't think I would stay here for a girl did you?” He scoffed. Pain flared in my chest.

“Don't!” I spat, choking on my breath, “don't pretend like this is easy for you!” Finally, he shattered.

“You know what? Fuck, yeah, this is hard, but there is nothing you can do about it! I have no fucking choice, Audrey!” He shouted and I surged forward, grabbing his face in my hands and sealing our lips together. I searched desperately for that promise from May. Our lips tasted of salt and I knew it wasn't just my tears but his, too. He held onto me, memorizing the feel of me before he broke the kiss with a ragged gasp. He took a step away from me and left, suitcase in tow. I collapsed, my heart shattering like glass.

The fifth and final monumental kiss came in the summer of my twenty-third year of life. Leo had been gone from my life for two years. It had been the hardest two years of my life and they had nearly broken me. But I persevered. I even stood in my wedding dress now. My eyes scanned my form in the mirror and I bit my lip in excitement. I had found my love again.

As my father gripped my hand, I turned my eyes to the altar and I remembered the young man I had met at that party and the taste of his lips. I should have hated myself for thinking about him when the man I truly loved stood before me. I remembered the confident man that cornered me in the hallway and showed me the best time of my life. I remembered the time that same man told me he loved me for the first time. Each step closer I got to the altar, I remembered my fondest moments with him. I even remember when that man came back from his home country and told me he had deserted his parents and his heritage and had come to claim me.

“I love you,” he had said and that same man said it to me now.

“I love you, Audrey,” he murmured to me, brushing my hair from my cheek as he cupped my face. I felt the tears swell in my eyes as he brought his lips to mine and sealed the promise that I knew would last an eternity.

#short story #writing #story #fluff #original #boy #girl #college #love #heartbreak #happy #ending

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stereksecretsanta · 6 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @lucifers-lawyer!

I hope you like this story, and I also hope that you have a wonderful holiday season! <3

Read on AO3

*****

The Truth Will Out

“This emotion I'm feeling now, this is love, right?" "I don't know. Is it a longing? Is it a giddy stupid happiness just because you're with me?" "Yes," she said. "That's influenza," said Miro. "Watch for nausea or diarrhea within a few hours.” ― Orson Scott Card, Children of the Mind

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a brokeass college student in possession of multiple student loans, must be in want of an easy way to make a quick buck.

The threat of being unable to pay this month’s rent had been a concern that lingered in the back of Stiles’ mind over the course of the past week: the semester’s student loans had managed to take care of the teen’s class books and the university’s (outstanding) tuition, but with his own finals approaching, Stiles had been unable to go his usual route of making money between classes and assignments and projects: writing essays for others and posting them online for payment. No amount of insomnia-driven researching sprees had managed to grant him the time necessary to do so—what with his own courseload and the latest supernatural disaster still being pressing issues—and Stiles, unfortunately, found himself coming up a little… short.

Formal eviction was a relatively lengthy process, so the amber-eyed student knew that he had a bit of time to make payment—and next month’s, too, as a gesture of goodwill and a pseudo bribe to beg his landlady to forgive and forget and let it be water under the bridge—but how to do such a thing was proving a little bit, uh. Difficult.

Focused more on the phone in his hand as Stiles scrolled through the dark web’s various magic-focused forums, the whiskey-eyed teen absently sketched a rune for good fortune in the air, habit long ingrained in his motions from one too many Hail Marys and Hallelujahs growing up amidst the supernatural population of Beacon Hills. Drawn with only half an awareness or not, the luck still held: the Spark was passing by one of the announcement boards that littered the campus’ buildings’ hallways, and the laces to one of Stiles’ shoes came undone at just the right moment, just as he was taking a step forward.

Clumsy awkwardness never truly grown out of, Stiles tripped over his own feet and immediately went plowing into the cork board, limbs akimbo and arms pinwheeling uselessly in an attempt to stop himself from going ass over teakettle; the effort only partially saved the student, however, and—regardless of his efforts—the amber-eyed teen still went face-first into the announcements.

And Stiles had his nose smooshed into an announcement that would potentially solve all of his problems:

Department of Psychology PAID RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY Romantic Couples Study You and your partner are eligible if you meet the following criteria: Are in a committed, monogamous relationship Have been dating for at least six months Are currently living together Are over the age of 18

While Stiles met none of those requirements—wasn’t even in a relationship and hadn’t been since Malia and Lydia, to be honest—desperate times called for desperate measures: the whiskey-eyed teen ripped off one of the ‘Contact Me Here!’ slips, mind immediately twelve steps into one of Stiles’ Grand Plots.

The only issue was actually getting his fellow partner-in-crime to actually agree to the scam.

“No.”

Stiles knew that this was going to be an uphill battle from the start, and so he buckled down and dug in his heels—Derek typically had the same sort of reaction whenever the teen tried to rope him into one of his schemes or plans, but Stiles had always been persistent in his follow through and, sooner or later, the one-time Alpha would cave.

(Never with grace, though, so Stiles also knew that he was going to be in for some top-level Bitch Face for the forseeable future. Worth it, though.)

It was times like these, however, that the Spark wished that ended up paired with one of the other pack members for the college experience. But everyone else had picked universities near each other, and it had been simple enough to pair those people together; the only issue came in the fact that Stiles had been the odd man out in his acceptance to the University of Maryland College Park—and so had been sent on his way with Derek since the older man had finished his college degree several years before.

The relationship that the two men had maintained all throughout Stiles’ high school career managed to evolve over time—but some things, like now, remained the same.

“Derek. Dude. I’m seriously begging you right now,” Stiles began again as he determinedly followed the ‘wolf around the elder’s one bedroom apartment, dogging Derek’s heels as he yet again laid his plan out for the other’s perusal. “My bank account is—as of this very specific moment—in the single digits, I don’t have the time to write other people’s papers, I don’t have the supplies needed for most of the spells that people are currently ISO, and if I don’t pay my landlady in the next two weeks, she’s gonna start the eviction process.”

If anything, listing out the reasons why this was the only viable plan to get money just seemed to make Derek quicken his pace in an attempt to get as far away from Stiles as possible in the enclosed space. Undeterred, however, the teen just lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the ‘wolf’s shoulders to hang off of Derek’s back like a limpet.

“Derek!” the Spark continued on, clinging for all that he was worth. “Do you want to be the one to explain to my dad what happened the next time we have to visit Beacon Hills—tell him why you’re returning home by yourself, how I’m somewhere—homeless and alone—back in College Park and that you have no idea where I currently am. Who knows if I’m dead in a ditch somewhere? Freezing from the cold? Shivering in my red hoodie, wishing that Derek had only just said yes to my plan to keep my apartment. If only—“

The sigh that Derek gave in reply was a full-bodied one, enough to lift his shoulders—and the hanging Stiles—up and down in audible defeat. It was also a sound that Stiles was rather familiar with, and the amber-eyed teen immediately perked up as he hooked his chin over the other man’s collarbone to take a peek at Derek’s face.

“Fine. Yes. All right, okay, I give up. Yes, Stiles, I’ll help you in your attempt to swindle your Psych Department,” the dark-haired man finally said, agreeing to a plan that Derek knew would come around to bite him in the ass at some later date and time—because, while Stiles usually was able to come up with the best plans out of the entirety of the pack… this particular one just seemed to scream ‘Disaster Waiting to Happen.’

It was obvious that Stiles didn’t seem to share the same sort of trepidation, though: instead, the teen practically lit up at Derek’s agreement, grinning bright and wide and already smug in the assurance that he’d be able to keep his apartment (by the skin of his teeth, true enough—but the how and why didn’t really matter so long as the ends justified the means).

“Awesome!” Stiles crowed in victory and unhooked one arm just enough to pull his phone out of his back pocket, dialing up the Department Head’s number that he had saved from the little slip of paper from earlier. The amber-eyed teen didn’t bother letting go of Derek, however—not wanting the ‘wolf to attempt an escape, especially since Stiles had finally managed to guilt him into saying yes in the first place. There was no way in hell that the teen was willing to take any chances, and the way that his fingers curled into the front of Derek’s shirt spoke volumes regarding that intent.

It took only a couple of minutes to arrange an interview with the Department Head in the next couple of days—after that, Derek’s fate was pretty much sealed.

“Ah, you must be Derek and… Stiles, was it? A pleasure to meet you both,” Doctor Tekisha Daniels murmured in greeting as she came around her oak desk to offer a hand to the two men. The Psychology Department Head was dressed smartly in a teal pantsuit, the nude of her heels and the rich color of the suit’s cloth standing in gorgeous contrast to the darkness of her skin. She was elegant in a no-nonsense sort of way, and the brown eyes that settled on Stiles were assessing and shrewd.

For the first time since he had come up with this plan, Stiles felt a sense of trepidation and concern.

“Uh, yeah. It’s Stiles—well, it’s actually a nickname, but I’ve been going by it for so long that it’s pretty much all I respond to nowadays,” the teen answered, rattling off his reply in the nervous habit he’d never been able to quite shake off completely. Brushing a palm over a thigh, Stiles finally took a step forward to take Dr. Daniels’ hand.

After he was done, already shifting from foot to foot, Derek moved closer and shook the doctor’s hand, inclining his head in a silent greeting. The contrast between the two men had the older woman tilting her head in consideration, but the smile she still offered them both was kind and welcoming.

“Please, take a seat,” she offered with a gesture to the chairs situated in front of her desk before making her way around the corner to once more settle back in her own chair. Legs crossing and settling back comfortably—obviously at ease and in control of the interview—Dr. Daniels continued once both Stiles and Derek were seated across from her. “First, I’d like to thank you for your interest in participating in my student. Before you get accepted, however, you need to go through an interview process—which is why you’re here, as I’m sure that you both have realized. I’ll be asking a series of questions to ensure that you meet several more criteria—as well as to get a feel for you both as a couple and as people—and then we’ll go from there. So, to get things started, let’s begin with an easy question: How long have you been involved?”

“Three years,” Stiles answered with a pleased smile, curve soft as it bowed his mouth upwards.

At the same time, Derek replied: “One year.”

The difference in their answer had Dr. Daniels shifting back in her seat, propping a cheek in the curve of one hand as a solitary eyebrow quirked in a silent request for clarification. Derek glanced away guiltily from the suspicion in the older woman’s gaze, though it was similar enough to Stiles’ dad’s interrogation room stare that the teen just jutted his chin defiantly upwards.

“I turned eighteen last year,” the teen began, easily meeting the challenge in the professor’s gaze. “I’ve liked Derek since I was sixteen, always have no matter what, but consent and being of legal age are two things that are very important for Derek. So I never planned on pushing it.”

Despite slowly being able to move past the issue of Kate and what she had done to him and his family, the entire situation had always been a rather touchy subject for Derek—and one that (most) of the pack tended to avoid out of respect for the hazel-eyed man. Even now, having the topic brought up in a vague enough manner, had Derek once more shifting his gaze away from Dr. Daniels, refusing to meet her eyes. This was his particular demon to bare and, though Stiles had probably been aware of Kate and what she had done to—with—him long before the rest of the pack had caught on, it was also something that Derek never intended to share with outsiders.

The flat look in Stiles’ whiskey-hued eyes dared the doctor to push for more detail and, wisely—sensing the landmines just beneath the surface—Dr. Daniels let it go to move on to the next question: “What is your partner’s greatest fear, gentlemen?”

Again, Stiles managed to answer first, words tripping as clumsily from his mouth, paralleling the fawn-like steps that typically had him going ass over teakettle. His answer, however, had Derek tensing in surprise as he glanced over at the teen with wide, vulnerable eyes. “Derek—and probably everyone else, too—would say that his biggest fear is fire. But… it’s something that Derek’s afraid of, but it’s not his biggest fear. It’s of being alone. Like… I know the quote gets overused a lot nowadays, but… When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. No pack ‘cause… y’know. No friends, no family, no lover—that’s Derek’s greatest fear.”

Watching Derek’s expression as Stiles spoke, watching as his eyes went wide and his expression heartbroken, Dr. Daniels knew that the younger man’s assessment was correct. However, she still needed the verbal confirmation from the elder: “…would you agree that that is correct, Derek?” she asked, voice surprisingly gentle.

“Uh, yeah… yes. I. I’d agree,” Derek rasped, voice low and fumbling, broken as he blinked and glanced away, huddling in on himself. It took only a moment or two to compose himself—and the psychology professor took note, if only because it spoke of an ability to bounce back from an extensive amount of trauma—and then Derek was offering his own response: “For Stiles… it’s autonomy. Having it get taken away is what scares him the most.”

Stiles obviously hadn’t been expecting that particular answer; he blinked in surprise, brows furrowing as he eyed the ‘wolf sidelong. “Not losing my dad?” he asked in turn, feeling out the reason for Derek’s reply.

If anything, the question had Derek quietly snorting in dark amusement. “No,” the hazel-eyed man said, offering the teen a smile that had a bit too many teeth to be anything than predatory in its intent. “I’ve seen a variety of things try to take your dad away from you, Stiles, and I’ve also seen you fight tooth and nail to bring him back each and every time.”

The ease in Derek’s reply gave away the fact that it was something that he’d at least thought of before—and the admiration in the ‘wolf’s voice had the teen flushing slightly, shifting his gaze to settle determinedly on the top of Dr. Daniels’ desk.

“…oh.”

There was an ebb and flow to their conversation, a multilayered element that the professor knew she was only partially aware of: everything that had multiple meanings, that which slid beneath the surface… there was a lack of understanding on Dr. Daniels’ end; she knew enough about people by this day and age to hear the doubled conversation that was taking place in front of her desk.

Knowing that there was a very little chance that she’d be clued in on the second conversation anytime soon, the professor shifted the interview to a new question even as her attention carefully split between the two men so that the researcher could take in both of their reactions.

“Home is a rather complex topic for many of us. Most of the time—not always—we still end up carrying bits and pieces of home even as adults and after we’ve supposedly ‘moved on.’ What does the other keep as a memento?”

Both men flushed red and very pointedly ignored both Dr. Daniels’ gaze, as well as the other’s.

Hesitantly, though, Derek began—carefully picking and choosing his way around the words to say. “Stiles… there’s a pillow from home that he always takes with him. He can’t sleep without it. And…” The ‘wolf paused, weighing whether or not he should continue before eventually lifting his head to glance at the amber-eyed teen’s profile. “You keep a sample bottle of your dad’s cologne and your mom’s perfume in a little pocket that you sewed in a corner of the pillow.”

Not even his dad knew that specific fact about Stiles’ pillow—only Scott did and only because he had been with Stiles when the amber-eyed boy had approached the perfume counter worker in the mall to get those bottles. It was… terrifying, in a way, to know that Derek somehow knew that.

The Spark slowly turned his head and met Derek’s hazel gaze with his own whiskey-hued one. “You have a box with your parents’ wedding rings. I don’t know where you put it when we moved to College Park, but I know that it’s somewhere in the apartment.”

Derek exhaled slowly, breath shuddering out of his lungs, and Dr. Daniels’ fingers curled over the armrests of her seat.

Despite the seriousness of the topic and the fact that both were showing the other a particular type of soft underbelly, the Department Head lifted a hand to hide a small smile when Stiles and Derek glanced away from one another, upper bodies leaning in towards the other just so--subtly done and to the point that neither seemed to notice the quiet gesture from the other; this was one of the reasons why the study asked further questions before accepting applicants. The older woman allowed the silence to linger on for a bit longer before finally clearing her throat to ask the next question: “Why did your partner choose their particular field of study?” A pause and then a nod towards Derek, “Or their current career?”

This time around, Derek was able to answer before Stiles could even open his mouth. The smile that he gave as he spoke was surprisingly tender, soft and blurred around the edges. “Stiles’ dad is in law enforcement and most people will probably think that he’s going into criminal justice to follow in Noah’s footsteps. But… Stiles is a fan of puzzles, of solving riddles and other things. And, this way—with this career—he never gets to stop. Every case is a new puzzle, a new challenge, sometimes something that he has to race against the clock to solve. But Stiles has always been good at working under pressure.”

The wide eyes returned, this time on Stiles’ end of things, and the look in his honeyed gaze was something that Dr. Daniels found to be frighteningly honest—to the point that she began considering changing the last question she typically asked of the pairs that came in for this particular interview. It was obvious that Stiles floundered for a moment or two, trying to find some sort of solid footing, but it wasn’t long before the teen was clearing his voice to offer his own reply: “You focused on physical therapy to help people who managed to survive physically traumatic events. You specialize in burn victims because of what happened with Peter and because you couldn’t be there to help him heal after the fire. It’s your… penance, I suppose. At least it was in the beginning. You have a client now, though, who’s helping you through that even while you help him—her?—through their PT.”

Derek suddenly wheezed for breath, huddling in on himself as if Stiles had managed to sucker-punch the elder of the two; his expression was gutted, terrified in a way that clued Dr. Daniels in in the fact that this was information that Derek hadn’t expected Stiles to have. Her theory was proven correct when the dark-haired man stood up from his chair, moving away from the desk and towards the far wall so that he could pace—steps quick and frenetic, nearly manic in the emotion that was building up within the air. “How. How did you know that??”

Stiles offered the ‘wolf a crooked smile at the question, eyes apologetic even as he continued to evenly meet Derek’s gaze. “You were the one who said it—I’m good at solving puzzles, right, Sourwolf?”

The elder of the two gave a laugh at that, the sound sharp and vaguely broken as he covered his moss-colored eyes with one hand. Hiding himself away from the revelations playing out before him: so, too, Dr. Daniels began to suspect—perhaps this was the first true conversation between the both of them on the topic of their emotions and perceptions of one another. She had several suspicions as to why that may be—multiple reasons stacking up to become the current tension-filled atmosphere she found herself in—but, well… in for a penny, in for a pound:

“Do you love each other?”

Dr. Daniels’ inquiry was enough to have Derek jerking his hand far and away from his face, motions abrupt and sudden and startled even as he stared at her. “What?!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Stiles’ reply had Derek shifting around once more, this time directing his attention towards the boy instead; the vulnerability that had threaded itself through his light gaze instead sharpened, turning blade-fine and predatory: something not quite human flaring within the intensity of that stare as Stiles met it head-on with his own whiskey-hued gaze.

“You weren’t lying. I heard it—you were telling the truth.”

Dr. Daniels’ shifted in her hair at Derek’s specific phrasing; it had been a statement, not a question. As if the elder was already certain of Stiles’ answer and was able to verify it beyond a doubt some other way.

“Well, yeah,” Stiles shot back, and the crooked smile once more returned, lopsided and wry and with fear so very, very stark in his expressive gaze. “I wasn’t expecting to get asked that question, but it’s not like I could’ve lied. You’d know. So… the truth will out.”

“Since when?”

Stiles gave an absent shrug to that, finally glancing away to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “You were the king on the chessboard, Derek. Ever wonder why?”

Before the conversation could progress much further, however, Dr. Daniels cleared her throat, offering an enigmatic smile to both men as their attention once more shifted her way. “I do believe that this is a conversation that should be addressed in private, at one of your apartments,” she began—knowing that her guess was correct from the way that Stiles shifted guiltily at the subtle call-out. “And, on that note, I will have to decline your participation in this particular case study. However, should things work out between the both of you, the department will have another study we’ll be advertising for starting next week. For new couples.”

No matter how quickly Stiles walked, attempting to outpace Derek, the teen knew that it was a losing battle from the start. He figured that he might as well get some points for effort, though—and there was, too, the dogheaded sort of stubbornness that Scott was typically the poster boy for in Stiles’ determination to avoid the conversation that he could feel hovering at the wings.

On Stiles’ end, though? He might as well have had a giant flashing sign that said Do Not Want.

It wasn’t surprising, then, that it didn’t take all that long before Derek’s patience reached its longsuffering ending. “Stiles!” the ‘wolf snapped out and sped up to block the teen before he had the chance to escape into his bedroom—and, thus, behind a locked door. “You know that this is something that we have to talk about.”

“Why?” the teen shot back even as he stepped away, wrapping his arms around himself in an obvious gesture to offer himself comfort for the conversation he believed was coming. “I already know what you’re going to say—it’s one of the reasons why I never said anything before—and, yeah, it’s out in the open now, but it’s not like I actually expect you to do anything about it. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t ever do something like that to you, Derek.”

“I was going to be the one who came with you to whatever university accepted you,” Derek suddenly said before Stiles could get any further; the amber-eyed teen blinked, confusion settling across his face as he attempted to comprehend just what it was that Derek was saying—why it was saying it, as well. The ‘wolf continued before the confusion could set in any more, however: “Even if someone else ended up in a college not far from your own—before the pairing up happened and the assignments were divvied up, I told Scott that I would be going with you.”

“I… I don’t understand, Sourwolf. What? Why?”

Gesture so incredibly cautious, Derek slowly reached out; when Stiles didn’t flinch away from him, the ‘wolf lightly trailed his fingertips over the tendon of Stiles’ throat, stepping closer to crowd in against the Spark until their bodies were pressed flush against one another’s. Still slow, still cautious—not quite certain of his welcome—Derek shifted closer until he could press his face against the bend of Stiles’ throat, breathing deep to draw in the teen’s scent.

“…Derek?”

There was a trembling to Stiles’ voice, one that the ‘wolf immediately wanted to soothe, and he rubbed his beard against the pale expanse of the teen’s skin, turning it bright red from the burn until they were finally standing cheek to cheek.

“Stiles, you’ve been my anchor since the night of the pool.” He paused, just for a moment, and tossed the Spark’s own phrasing back at him: “Ever wonder why?”

Derek fell silent after that, giving the younger man the time needed to process what it all meant—the fact that each had cared for—loved—the other for years until, as Stiles had quoted earlier, the truth will out. Gesture cautious, as if he was still trying it out, Stiles reached up to gently cup a hand over the nape of the ‘wolf’s neck. There was a certain type of strength to the gesture, one that Derek had come to trust and rely on throughout the years—and he sighed, sound almost inaudible, as he leaned that much closer to the teen.

Another moment or two:

“Soooo… does this mean that I don’t have to worry about Mrs. Lawson evicting me anymore?”

Tender mood ruined beyond repair—and, if Derek was honest with himself, he couldn’t bring himself to feel surprised by that fact—the ‘wolf groaned and admitted defeat, tossing Stiles over a shoulder as he turned around to head back into the teen’s bedroom.

“Derek? Derek! You didn’t answer my question!”

(Mrs. Lawson did end up evicting Stiles—the process sped up by the fact that, starting that night, the neighbors began filing excessive noise complaints for Stiles’ apartment. Luckily, by that time, Stiles and Derek had managed to find a larger apartment.

--to share.)

::fin::

#lucifers-lawyer #stereksanta17 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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goingknowherewastaken · 7 years

Text

A Million Years || Part Five

Title: A Million Years || Part 5

Fandom: Star Trek x Wonder Woman

Relationships: WonderTrev, McKirk,

Warnings: swearing, guys i just really want to give Steve a hug right now

A/N: Well, it looks like I’m on a once-a-week update schedule for this! Which is great, but this is also the last chapter that I had pre-written. I have a few more planned for this, but I’m going to need to write those. Hopefully I can get the next one written by next Sunday :) *crosses fingers*

So we’ll see how that goes

The title comes from the song A Million Years by Charlene Kaye.

Enjoy! ♥

Summary: Steve was her North Star. Still guiding her hundreds of years after…

This is apart of a series! Here are the previous parts: Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four ||

A Million Years || Part 5

“I – no – that's not -”

“Possible?” Jim cut him off. As expected, Captain Trevor was hardly accepting of his current situation after they explained where he was – and when, for that matter – but he was handling it better than expected.

“It's not common, but it isn't impossible. Certainly isn't the first time that a lightning storm was somehow involved, either; although, those times involved traveling back, not forward.”

Trevor merely nodded and licked his lips, taking in the various medical equipment once more. A moment later something seemed to click in the man's mind, his eyes flickering briefly with an emotion and his chest began to heave a little faster than it had previously. The increased beeping of the heart monitor didn't help the matter either and Trevor turned frantic.

“Hey, easy,” Bones darted forward and rested a hand on Trevor's shoulder. “It's just the heart monitor; it keeps track of a patient's heart rate.” He glanced over his shoulder and sent Jim a look he could decipher by the time their first semester at the Academy had ended.

Unfortunately, the only distraction he could think of would either help the situation or make it worse - hopefully it would be the former.

“Can you tell us more about yourself? We know you’re from the early 1900's, but that's it.” He pulled over a nearby chair and took a seat. Behind him, he heard Spock move forward to stand just a step from his shoulder. “Anything you can tell us would help. You don't have to go deep right away, just give us the basics.”

Trevor nodded and took in a deep breath. “Uh, my name is Steven Rockwell Trevor. I was born in 1882 on the 26th of August in New York City. My parents were Mary and Joseph Trevor; they both passed on before I was twenty.” He blinked a few times, his breaths starting to even out some. “I, uh, I worked at the docks for most of my life. Lot's of men did. When there was talk of a new military program involving planes I was one of the first to sign up. Just felt right, you know? Then the war broke out overseas and I was sent over to fight.”

“For which side?”

“What?” Trevor's head shot up and he blinked at Spock.

“For which side were you sent over to aid?”

“What type of question is that?! I fought with the Allies! I was assigned British Intelligence for crying out loud!” His horror at Spock's question eased some of the worry Jim had, but he still had plenty of questions.

“Sorry, Captain,” Jim cut in, “but you showed up in what we identified as a German officer's uniform – naturally it made us curious. From what we were aware, America joined the Allies against the Germans, but – since we're discussing a time before the Eugenics War – we weren't sure how accurate our information was.”

Trevor simmered down at Jim's words, but his confusion and distress still held. “Eugenics war? You mean there was another war?”

“Indeed,” Spock replied. “Since the end of World War I, there were in fact -”

“- A lot of wars,” Jim interjected. The miffed Vulcan sent him a look, but Jim gave him an apologetic smile. “But those are for another time. I take it your mission involved the uniform?”

“Yeah, I was infiltrating the German ranks. We got word that they had a scientist, a Dr. Maru, who was creating a deadly gas – one that would kill the boys left and right if it was released. They called her Dr. Poison. I got in and was able to steal her notebook before -” he blinked and cleared his throat, shifting on the bed. “Before escaping. Several days later it became apparent that having the notebook didn't matter; she was still able to create the gas. I, uh,” he swallowed and Jim got the impression they were touching on a potentially sensitive topic. “I – my team and I – we got into one of their bases. Found a plane they loaded down with the stuff and I just...” Trevor trailed off.

Jim tipped his head in understanding. “You stole the plane.”

Trevor gave a brief nod. “Flew it straight up. Pulled out a gun and -” he drew in a breath as the realization fully washed over him.

“Jim?” The sleep addled voice emerged from the body laying next to him. “Please don't tell me that in order to make you sleep I have to sedate you.”

Jim huffed, shifting minutely on his back and rubbing at his eyes. “I'm fine, Bones.” He felt the bed shift as his boyfriend turned over to face him.

“Bullshit, kid,” he paused with a yawn. “You're mind hasn't stopped racing since you saw the guy's face...I know mine hasn't.”

“Lights twenty percent,” Jim ordered, turning his head to the side. With the slight increase in light he could make out the furrowed brows that he already knew would be gracing the Georgian's face. “It's weird isn't it? He looks just like me, but -”

“He isn't you,” Bones finished, reaching out to drape his arm across Jim's waist. “Believe me, Jim, I noticed the similarities – Hell, everyone noticed, but right now it's hard to tell just how different the two of you are; what with how jarring this is on the mind. Seems to have a hell of a lot more decorum than you, though.”

Jim raised a brow at the jab and flipped onto his side to better face his partner. “Bones, are you planning on dumping me for the newer model?”

The comment earned him a huff from the older man. “Kid, you're too far under my skin for that to happen.” He shuffled closer so their bodies were barely touching. “Besides, I don't think he'll be interested in pursuing anyone for some time. Adjusting to a time jump of nearly 350 years is gonna take a while.”

The 'If we can't send him back' wasn't said, but it was implied. It was just another thought that Jim had been worrying about.

“What is it? What's eatin' you?”

Jim glanced up, releasing his lower lip from where he'd been unconsciously biting it. “I don't think we should bother trying to send him back.”

“Jim -”

“No, Bones! We can't send him back! If we do he'll die!”

Bones sighed. “We don't know that, but he can't stay here.” Even though he said the words, Jim could tell Bones didn't have his heart behind them. Shifting to close the distance between them, Jim leaned his forehead against Bones' own.

Trevor's recount of the last thing he remembered opened up old memories they'd shoved aside and locked up – ones of madmen, sealed chambers, and a body bag that instilled nightmares for months. After Trevor had finished talking, Bones had made a joke about him being a 'Self-sacrificing idiot too', but Jim caught the tremor that ran through his hands before he'd occupied them with his tricorder. He'd ended the questioning soon after that moment, under the guise of letting their guest recover for a while, but the second he could he'd drug Bones back to their shared quarters.

Well, his quarters, but the amount of Bones' stuff that was there told another story.

They didn't talk about what had just transpired in Medbay, they didn't have to – just changed out of their uniforms and curled up on the bed, holding each other until sleep came.

“Bones...”

“Jim...”

Chirp!

And just like that, the moment was broken as Bones' comm chirped from his nightstand. He was up within seconds, flipping open the device. “McCoy.”

“Len, it's Trevor.”

Jim sat up and shared a look with Bones at the concern lacing his head nurse's voice. Why she was still even on duty, he didn't know, but Bones was already out the door before he could pose a question.

I love you.

“Diana!” The strangled cry ripped it's way from Steve's throat as he lurched upwards on the bed. He doubled over, gripping his head as he tears finally came, several hours late.

God! He was wrong. He was so so wrong.

They weren't enough.

They were never going to be enough.

Steve dropped onto his side, curling up and clawing at the tangled sheets as he wheezed and keened. He vaguely felt a hand place itself on his shoulder, but he was too distressed to react.

He didn't know what to think when he'd first opened his eyes. The minutes following only made the situation even more surreal as a man identical to himself had him spilling his life story like a rookie spy.

2264.55

He was on a spaceship. In the middle of space. In the year 2264.

So long.

“Chris – Chris, what's going on?” A familiar masculine voice cut through his noises.

The hand made gentle circles on his shoulder. “He was having a nightmare. It woke him up and – Len, I think it's all caught up to him.”

“Well, why did you call me?”

The hand disappeared from his shoulder and he shuddered through a deep breath.

“I wasn't sure if it was something serious!” There was a pause. “Besides, maybe he'll be more comfortable with another guy than me right now.”

Steve didn't now what else was said, but when the tears finally subsided some time later and he cracked his eyes open, he was met with the sight of a slightly disheveled McCoy sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed. The guy looked exhausted, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose, soft-looking, gray pants, yet he kept his eyes on Steve where he laid.

He sniffed, rubbing at his wet cheeks. “Do you often talk about your patients in front of them like that?” His voice came out on the hoarser side.

The doctor merely tilted his head at the comment before reaching over to grab and toss a pack of thin white tissues at him. “Here. They're disposable.”

Taking the hint, Steve slowly uncurled and sat up, pulling out one sheet to dab at his face. Apparently these were the future's handkerchief. “Thanks.”

McCoy leaned forward in his chair so he could rest his forearms on his thighs. “Don't mention it.”

Steve tried to ignore how awkward the moment became, just him sniffling and cleaning up his face and McCoy silently watching him, the only other noises being the chirps and beeps of the various medical equipment and the low rumble of the ships engines. Looking around, it was so different than the hospitals of his time – all blindingly bright and absolutely spotless. Before he'd fallen asleep – and after they'd stuck him with roughly a dozen needles hyposprays – they'd moved him from the private room to the main area. In the hours that had passed only two new patients had joined him in the row of beds, with one more ducking behind a curtain just two away from him. After watching the handful of nurses mill about the room, the doctor drew his attention back to him, asking, “Do you wanna talk about her?”

He swallowed and glanced down to pick at the blanket. McCoy didn't have to say her name. The dream – the memory, was still fresh in his mind. After they'd confirmed where and when he was – not that it'd taken too much to convince him – Steve had rambled out what he could as he tried to process the reality of everything.

But he didn't tell them everything.

What do people do when there isn't a war.

No. Some things just weren't meant to be shared with others.

“I lost everyone I ever cared about – my friends, my family,” Steve deflected, looking up finally to with hazel eyes that shown with...something. “What else is there to talk about?”

Besides, talking about her meant thinking about her.

He wasn't sure he really wanted to think about her too soon.

“I think it was a little more than just 'caring' for one of them.” Pity. They shown with pity. “Kid, I know a broken heart when I see one.”

Ah..that made sense.

“Her name was Jocelyn,” he continued, “She was the first person to steal my heart and the first to rip it in two. At the time, I despised her for it, but now...” McCoy trailed off, huffing. “Talking about it helped – granted it took a while to open up about it, but it helped. Helped me see that if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here.” He smiled then and – oh, Steve's heart ached.

He knew that smile.

The smile of someone in love.

His throat constricted and he tried to swallow again. “Diana...you can't replace someone like Diana.” No. He started shaking his head. “No, it's just – you can't.”

“Trevor -”

“No!” He ground out, fists clenching in the sheet. “No.”

“Sorry.” McCoy held up his hands. “Sorry. I know that this whole thing is difficult – I lost the person I love once as well – they came back, but it is - was difficult confronting what happened. It just takes time.”

I wish we had more time.

Steve sucked in a breath. “Please, I – please don't.”

“...Okay,” McCoy relented and a bit of the tension left Steve. “I won't pressure you, but please keep that in mind. Okay?” Once he saw that Steve acknowledged his words, he stood and peered over the various screens before saying, “As an apology for picking at the wound, I'm gonna take my leave so try to get some rest? Your vitals seem fine and we only need to do a few more vaccines before we let you go.” He turned then to face Steve. “And that will all happen before your meeting with Jim tomorrow.” He paused, waiting for Steve to respond, and when he didn't, he said, “Right, if you need anything just press that button on the side of the bed and it will alert one of the nurses on duty.”

Steve dipped his head in acknowledgment and watched as McCoy bid him goodnight and walked way. Once he was out of sight, Steven flopped back onto the bed and threw an arm over his eyes.

The Doc was right – he knew the Doc was right, but to think about the life that was taken from him...

The life with Diana that he could have had...

That was too much right now.

He'd process the others before he opened that box.

...to be continued

Part Six

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vonseal · 7 years

Text

venti macchiato for mojo

bin is a matchmaker and myungjun is completely flustered in jinwoo’s presence.

also known as this garbage myungjin fanfic i tossed together to mourn the start of the next semester tomorrow, rip seal.

“Hello, sir, what can I get-”

“Venti macchiato.”

It happened every single morning. Bin didn't know what this guy's issue was, but every single morning, without fail, he was at his counter, loudly talking on his cell phone and ordering the exact same drink; a venti macchiato. It wasn't as if it was too difficult of a drink to fix up, and it wasn't as if Bin hated his job as a barista, but sometimes he wished that this particular customer would actually hang up his phone for more than five seconds to talk to him politely, instead of just coming up and demanding a drink.

But Bin had to hold his tongue. He could probably insult the guy five different ways (and he knew he'd start at the guy's height), but he was a professional barista. He wasn't a barista who got into petty arguments with customers.

He was a barista with a job and he wasn't going to lose it.

“Name?” he asked.

The man paused in his cell phone conversation to stare at Bin for three seconds.

“Can you spell it right?”

Bin shrugged his shoulders.

Okay, so maybe he was petty, but he misspelled the guy's name every single day. It started out as a mistake, Bin writing too quickly during their rush hour, and then it just became habit. The customer only tried to correct him the first time; the second time it happened, the customer seemed to notice Bin's cocky smirk and decided against getting into an argument. And the third time, the customer had simply glared at Bin as he snatched the cup away.

It was the only way Bin could get back at this guy, and he was willing to stoop down to childish levels to do so.

“One venti macchiato coming right up!”

The drink was prepared and Bin passed it over. He watched as the customer peeked for the name, and he was delighted that the customer sighed loudly.

“I'm starting to think you do this to piss me off.”

Bin blinked innocently. “What? Me? No way.”

“Yeah, well, this one isn't even close.” He pointed at Bin's handwriting. “What's this? Mookjok?”

Bin had to hold back a giggle at his own brilliance.

“It's Myungjun. You can say it, can't you? Myungjun.”

“Myungjun,” Bin repeated.

Myungjun nodded his head eagerly. “And how is it spelled? I went over this with you last time.”

“Let's see.” Bin tapped a finger against his chin. “M-Y-U-”

He noticed Myungjun perking up, so he quickly derailed this guy's happiness.

“-H-E-A-”

Myungjun scoffed and stormed off, leaving Bin grinning proudly in his wake.

Sure, it was petty and childish, but it really made Bin happy for the rest of the day, and who was he to deny himself happiness?

///////

“What's this?” Myungjun almost always hung up the phone now when grabbing his drink. Bin was starting to think that Myungjun secretly liked the arguing. “M.J.?”

“It's cute, isn't it? Myungjun is too hard to spell. This makes it easier.”

Myungjun shook his head. “How is Myungjun too difficult to spell? I've spelled it out for you at least ten times!”

Bin smiled and shrugged his shoulders. His coworkers sometimes told him to stop goading the customer. His coworkers sometimes told him that their manager would be pissed if Myungjun actually started to complain to the company. But Myungjun had been coming here for weeks and had only spoken to Bin each and every time. It never seemed like Myungjun was truly upset with the situations to actually throw a tantrum about it. Which was more than Bin could say about other customers, yelling at him simply because he forgot to add one of their low-calorie sugars in their drinks.

“How old are you, anyway?”

That question threw him off guard. His smile faltered slightly as he stared at Myungjun, who was now sipping his drink and refusing to avert his eyes.

“Old enough to work here.”

“That doesn't really tell me anything. I've seen high school students work at coffee shops. Are you in high school?”

Bin snorted. “Of course not! I'm twenty years old, so I think that's old enough to be working here.” He began filling out another order, but Myungjun wasn't leaving the counter. “How old are you?”

“That's personal,” Myungjun responded. “I don't think you should be asking customers for their ages.”

“I don't think you should be asking employees for their ages.”

“And yet you still answered me.”

Myungjun was grinning wildly, but he seemed to freeze when one of Bin's coworkers came up. “Hey,” the coworker greeted. “My shift starts in five minutes, but I don't remember how to clock in. Do you mind helping me out?”

Bin nodded his head. “Sure. Let me finish up this drink I'm working on and I'll be right over there.”

The coworker smiled, and then glanced over at Myungjun, who was still staring at him in apparent shock.

Once Bin's coworker had left, Myungjun asked, “And who was that?”

“Jinwoo. He's new here. I think this is his second day, so he's still learning the ropes.” Bin completed the next order and set it out for a different customer to take. “What's with you, anyway? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Hm?” Myungjun gave a slight start and jerked away from the counter. “Oh. Nothing. Sorry. Um...get my name right next time, kid, or I'll file a lawsuit.”

Bin watched as Myungjun tried to gain some sense of the usual sarcastic cockiness he usually carried about, and when that failed, Bin watched as Myungjun scurried out of the cafe without saying another word.

So there was something about Jinwoo that made Myungjun speechless?

Interesting.

///////

Bin took any chance he got to talk to Jinwoo. At first it was for his own purposes, to possibly figure out why Myungjun lost all confidence whenever Jinwoo was around, but then Bin actually learned that he liked Jinwoo. Jinwoo was funny and smart and while he was a little slow getting drinks and taking orders, he made up for it with a large, gummy smile and a brilliant personality.

They became quick friends, and Bin supposed he had Myungjun's interest to thank for that.

He still misspelled Myungjun's name whenever Jinwoo wasn't nearby. He had tried it once with Jinwoo watching; Myungjun had just bowed to him and hurried out of the shop, and that was certainly a waste of his time and misspelling skills to have the recipient just run off.

“Mojo?”

It was one of those times that Jinwoo was in the back, and so Bin was actually able to get the chance to misspell Myungjun's name.

“Is that what I spelled?” Bin clicked his tongue against the rough of his mouth. “Wow, I guess I really suck at this, don't I?”

Myungjun sighed and lifted the lid of the cup to examine the contents, ensuring that it was actually his drink. “They should be embarrassed that you keep doing this.”

“Oh, they really are.”

Myungjun gave a small hmph, and instead of drawing back, he actually leaned forward slightly. “How old is Jinwoo?”

Bin narrowed his eyes. “I'm not really at the liberty to talk about my coworkers to any of the customers.”

“Right. Right, sorry, that was dumb.”

Myungjun cleared his throat and stared down at his drink.

A lightbulb clicked in Bin's brain.

“He's older than me, if you were wondering that.”

And it seemed that Myungjun was wondering that. Bin had never seen Myungjun look so happy just from a few simple words, and the guy gave a small chuckle as he stepped away from the counter. “No-Not for any purposes other than to make sure you guys aren't, um, employing kids in high school, because high school kids need their free time to work on homework. That's...that's all.”

Yeah, right. Bin totally recognized the tell-tale signs of romantic hope blooming.

Myungjun was smitten with Jinwoo, and Bin thought it was adorable.

“You wanna talk to Jinwoo?” he asked quietly. As expected, Myungjun turned red and high-tailed it out of there.

This was getting more interesting by the second. Bin liked it.

///////

He kept an eye out for Myungjun the next day. He was on cashier duty, and while he was the one who was supposed to take the orders, he had a plan in mind. Myungjun was crushing on Jinwoo, and Bin was going to set the two of them up. And, sure, maybe Jinwoo didn't even know Myungjun existed, but Bin was going to set them up, or he was a horrible barista. This was basically his job. After all, he had gotten Minhyuk his first girlfriend when the two of them were in high school – how difficult could it be to make a quick relationship out of his coworker and his customer?

He saw Myungjun through the windows, and he acted quickly.

“Jinwoo, do you mind taking over the register for a second?” he asked the unsuspecting blond. “I have to check something with this machine. It's been acting up, and since it's quiet now, I think I have a good chance.”

Jinwoo blinked from his spot nearby. “Um, sure. I don't know if I've been trained enough on the register, though.”

“Oh, you'll be fine! I'm nearby to help you, if you need it.” He gave Jinwoo a grin and stepped aside.

Jinwoo took over just as Myungjun walked in the door.

“Hello, sir, what can I get for you today?” Jinwoo was sticking straight to the script they were given when they started working as a barista. Bin hoped that Myungjun's antics would get them in an actual conversation.

Myungjun, for his part, was staring at Jinwoo with wide, brown eyes. “You're...where's, um, I was going to get Bin to-”

“I'm busy!” Bin called, and he poked his head out from behind the machine. “Besides, this is like training for Jinwoo. He's required to know this.”

Jinwoo was nodding and waiting for Myungjun to answer him.

Bin didn't miss Myungjun's angry scowl directed his way.

“Sir?”

“Oh. Um...a, uh, the...” Myungjun was struggling terribly with his words, and he ended up gesturing to the menu that was displayed right above the register.

Jinwoo craned his neck to look up at it. “Which one?” he asked again. “There's a lot of drinks up there!” He laughed, and this somehow made Myungjun even more flustered.

“The...oh my god, um, let's...just whatever! Whatever is fine!”

Jinwoo was smiling brightly. Myungjun looked as if he was under a spell.

“Alright, Bin's pretty good at making new orders for people, so I can get him to do that. Can I have your name?”

“Can I have your number?”

Bin about dropped the part he had been screwing and unscrewing in the machine for the past two minutes. He didn't expect Myungjun to move that quickly.

Myungjun didn't expect Myungjun to move that quickly, either, it seemed, because he now looked absolutely horrified. “I didn't...! I meant, um, my name! My name is, um...sorry, I was just thinking about the, uh, the price, just the price of the drink – I'm Myungjun.”

“Myungjun, right.” If Myungjun's sudden awkward personality had tripped Jinwoo up, the barista didn't show it. He scribbled the name out on the cup in Sharpie, then held it up for Myungjun to look at. “Did I spell it correctly?”

Bin was ready to dial an ambulance, because he was certain Myungjun was about to faint.

“That's...right, yes. I'll...stand by the counter and, um, I'm going to wait.”

Jinwoo was still smiling as Myungjun shuffled over to the counter. Bin tried not to meet his eyes, but Myungjun whispered anyway, “You did this on purpose.”

“He spelled your name right. Isn't that what you've wanted?”

Myungjun's eyebrows were furrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I was such an idiot, Bin! He asked for my name and I asked for his number.”

“I heard, and so did several of the customers.”

Myungjun was cocky, but when Jinwoo was involved, Myungjun turned into a high school girl. Bin found it endearing and hilarious.

“Well, now I can never come back here again! He probably thinks I'm super lame!”

Myungjun probably would have continued whining (Bin didn't put it past him), but Jinwoo came by just then with Myungjun's drink in tow. “It's going to be a little hot,” Jinwoo said. “It's just a regular coffee, I don't know if that's what you wanted, but I added a shot of vanilla in it because vanilla's sweet and, um...it reminds me of you.”

Bin raised his eyebrows. Now Jinwoo was flustered and Myungjun was flustered and Bin decided that it was too cute for him and he never should have done this.

Myungjun took the drink quietly, and Jinwoo grinned through the intense flush of his cheeks. “Call me, o-okay?” He didn't wait for an answer. He hurried back to the register to help other customers that had walked through the door. Bin watched him go, and Bin noted that Jinwoo's ears became really red when he talked to someone he liked.

“Call...him?” Myungjun blinked in confusion, then looked back down at the cup.

Underneath his (correctly-spelled) name was a phone number. Bin's eyes widened when he realized it was Jinwoo's phone number.

“Bin!” Myungjun was grinning widely, too, and he stuffed the drink under Bin's nose. “Bin, look! Look, he gave me his phone number!”

“I see that.”

“I got his phone number! He doesn't think I'm lame at all!”

“Well, he probably does, but maybe you were just-”

“I'm going to go call him!”

Bin gestured back to Jinwoo. “He's working.”

“Then...then I'll text him a bunch of hearts to show how cute I think he is!”

And Myungjun was doing it, too.

At least it was still going to be interesting around here.

///////

“One venti macchiato, coming right up!”

Bin grinned proudly as he handed Myungjun's drink over. Myungjun looked at it with distaste. “Jinwoo's the only one who spells it correctly.”

“Really?”

“I'm one hundred percent certain that you have Minhyuk spelling it wrong now on purpose, too.”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Myungjun turned his drink so the name faced Bin, and Bin read it out loud, “Moom.”

“Yeah. Moom. You're not even trying anymore, I think.”

Bin didn't respond. Instead, he held up one more drink. “Iced coffee for Jinwoo!”

Jinwoo, standing beside Myungjun (and smiling all the while at Myungjun's irritation, Bin liked that) took the drink. “Look, he spelled my name right.”

“Because he likes you,” Myungjun responded, face turning slightly pink as Jinwoo reached over and grabbed at his hand.

“He wouldn't make fun of you if he didn't like you.” Jinwoo laughed when Myungjun pouted, then glanced over at Bin. “Thanks again for taking my shift. I promise I can pick up one of your shifts if you ever have something to do.”

Bin shrugged his shoulders, the smile still on his face. “I just needed the money. Besides, I was tired of Myungjun constantly texting you while you're trying to work.”

“You be quiet, Bin,” Myungjun mumbled, then sipped at his drink. “Anyways, we have to get going, Jinwoo. Movie starts in twenty minutes, and I haven't gotten our tickets yet.”

“Right, right!” Jinwoo giggled and brought Myungjun's hand up to his lips, giving it a light kiss. “Fine, I'm coming. You're not very patient, are you?”

The kiss had rendered Myungjun basically mute, and all he could do was bow his head respectfully to Bin and then drag the still-grinning Jinwoo out of the cafe.

Bin watched them leave and decided that he was going to quit his job at the cafe and become a professional matchmaker.

#my fanfic #myungjin #myungjin fanfic #bin is just a sassy barista #myungjun is tired of bin's antics #jinwoo is the new guy on the block

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justcallmebeau-blog · 7 years

Text

Para || Old Friends

WHO: Beau & Belle WHEN: 1/22/17 WHERE: Beau’s studio WHAT: Presents and affection and faux proposals, oh my!

Belle: Still wearing a stolen Patriots jersey (and little else besides that and a pair of red pumps), Belle rushed from her car into Beau's studio out of the cold. It wasn't like it was getting any warmer, but she had a terrible habit of forgetting that inside temperature and wardrobe didn't equate to what would be comfortable outside. Setting aside a small brown bag, she shrugged off the jacket she'd thrown on over the jersey. "Mr. Alistair, your five o' clock massage is here!" she shouted in her best 'sultry secretary' voice.

Beau sauntered into the room with a grin spread wide over his face. "Am I getting the deluxe happy ending package today?" The facade ended with a very thorough once over before he was rushing forward and tugging Belle into a tight hug, pulling her up off of the ground and twirling her around in a way he'd thought about doing a hundred times but had never had a chance to. "Sorry, couldn't resist getting hands on with the new masseuse," he said teasingly, going back into character if just to attempt throwing her off balance.

Belle: He managed to surprise a laugh out of her, her arms going around his neck to hold on tight as he spun her around. "Qu'est-ce que c'est? No, honey, I'm the one getting a massage. The happy ending is up to you, mon cher." Still grinning ear to ear, she leaned in to brush her lips over his jaw, making her way to his ear with barely a touch, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I have something for you."

Beau stilled the hug but didn't put her down, hands going down to the backs of her thighs in what he'd normally view as a dangerous move and holding her there. "Vous manquer, belle." His French was shaky at best but he could follow along hoping he'd gotten it right. "Massages are generally best done naked... though you're already halfway there, sweets." His eyes fluttered shut and oh but he was reigning himself in. "Oh? Care to share?"

Belle: She caught her lower lip in her teeth when his hands gripped her thighs, the jersey a dress on her but not quite big enough to cover everything, especially with her arms lifted around his neck. "Absolutely." Going for broke, she sucked the lobe of his ear gently, briefly, before releasing it and sliding out of his grip. It was dangerous territory to be flirting so profoundly with Beau, for a number of reasons, but she couldn't help a little teasing. Picking up the plain paper bag, she handed it to him. "I stopped into this camera shop for supplies and found this. There's also some mystery rolls of film in there, if you're inclined. I thought it spoke to your adventurous and voyeuristic spirit." (Book: http://www.blurb.com/b/5762955-san-franc... )

Beau let her slip out of his grip with the smallest of sighs as he willed himself to behave, knowing that even if she wasn't his student he still needed to tamp it down quick. The only thing he had going for his mission to ignore any chemistry was that there were presents and no sane human being chooses staring at someone's bare thighs over presents when there's an option presented. "Adventurous and voyeuristic spirit is the best compliment I've gotten all year," he teased as he carefully opened the bag and pored over the new treasure. "Belle! This is so bloody cool. Oh, this is going to be my inspiration this week." Beau paused, tilting his head. "I wonder if we'll find something scandalous on these rolls of film? My bet's on someone going for the nudie shots. Want to wager?"

Belle: His reaction was well worth kind of missing the hug already, her smile mirroring his as he looked over the gifts. She'd always been a little sentimental, and more often than not a bit excessive, with gift-giving, but it usually paid off and this was no exception. Humming and pretending to consider his proposition she stepped up to him again and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I hope there's nudie shots on there, too, so we'll bet on the quality. If they're tasteful, classy, I win. If they're less than tasteful, you do. Winner gets a proper massage from the loser. Deal?"

Beau He couldn't stop the smile that was all over the place, cheeks pink from the excitement of it. Presents really were top 10 of his favorite things. Especially thoughtful presents because those were like finding a needle in a haystack. Almost immediately his hands went around her chest, tugging her in to a tight hug before letting it loosen. "Deal. Though who loses tasteful, classy shots? You're just setting me up to win sweets. Want my hands on you that badly?"

"I'd be lying if I said the idea hadn't crossed my mind, handsome." Laughing, Belle laid her head on his shoulder and took one of the rolls of film, squinting at I as though she could see through the cartridge. "That's the fun of found photos. No one takes pictures, especially not on film, and means to lose them. They're all special." Shrugging, she gave him a friendly peck on his cheek. "What are you working on?"

Beau was such a sucker for affection, and Belle was one of his best girls. Which is why he was dreading the school year coming up - he wasn't Martin, he couldn't get away with nearly as much, but he didn't like having to go without this either. "Unless you just want to use up film. Which is a waste and you shouldn't be allowed to have it. Maybe it was a couple coming in on vacation? A cheating couple, so he takes pictures of her that are gorgeous and glam so he can lie easier if they're found," Beau mused, nuzzling her hair and giving her an easy grin. "Not much. Still have a few baked good from what I snagged from Malcolm the other day. Want some?"

Belle: "A recent divorcee wanting some boudoir photos to reclaim her womanhood," she suggested smiling as he nuzzled her, fingers sliding up to the back of his neck to tug gently at a curl of hair. Since the semester didn't start until morning she didn't mind indulging herself a little bit. Despite being a vestige of her past there was a sort of ease with Beau that she enjoyed too much to ignore completely. Although if there was one thing to get her attention away from physical contact, it was food. "Mmm, that was sexy. Say that again, but this time a little slower. Maybe take your clothes off to really seal the deal."

Beau was soaking up the little sparks flying at the way she handled him, but he figured as long as he didn't say anything then maybe time would just pause for a bit. "An older man wanting tasteful nudes to send to his new lady across the seas," he murmured, though Beau was as distracted by the idea of food as she was. "Want some baked goods?" The words rolled off the tongue and he deliberately thickened his accent and added a drawl, pushing down on the waistband of the jersey pants he had on before bursting out laughing and leading her to the kitchen. "Sorry, kitchen's only clothes off for company I'm sleeping with. Want to sit in here for a bit? Or head to the living room?"

Belle: Alas, missed opportunities. I should have slept with you back in New York." She followed him to the kitchen, unable to resist tucking a fingertip into his waistband, her nail just barely scraping his hips, on her way past him. Grinning innocently, she hoisted herself up onto the counter and let her feet dangle. "I'm good in here. Unless you like the view better form in there." Plucking a croissant up, she broke off a piece and made a noise of appreciation at the taste. "He okay? Mal, I mean. Although you, too." She pulled him over to stand in front of her, the joking gone out of her expression and replaced with concern. "Martin didn't tell me exactly what happened, or who was involved. And I don't need details. But it doesn't take much to put it together."

Beau "I should've made a move in New York." He grinned back over his shoulder, a full body shudder going through him at the unexpected touch. Fucking tease. "Oh no, the view is perfect from exactly where I'm standing." His coffee was poured but he nearly dropped it when she mentioned him and Mal. Damn, but she was too perceptive for her own good. At least Beau knew Belle wasn't going to tell a soul. Explicit trust was pretty strong between them. He just knew her too well to doubt her. "Yeah, he seems to be. I... think I am? Gonna go by Martin's office later and make sure we're good too. It's... it's.... tense in a way I didn't expect. Man still doesn't get how willing I'd be to jump his bones either - or else it was a flat out unvoiced no. Can't lose friends over a roll in the hay. Even a damned good one. Uh, was... Martin okay?"

Belle: Belle took his coffee and sipped, wrinkling her nose at the bitter taste and reminding herself to bring him some decent beans. She still didn't have the whole story, but she didn't need to to feel sympathy for all three of them. Her hand sunk into his hair again and she brought him down enough to press their foreheads together. "He was a little off, when he first showed up, but he's been texting Mal, and you I guess. He gets a certain look on his face when he's worried." She shook her head a little. "I think he just wants things to be okay with everyone. It threw me a little, I didn't take him for being the type to worry about that sort of thing. Guess I underestimated how much Mal means to him. You, too."

Beau rested a hand on his stomach as he tried not to let his nerves bubble up all over again. The physical distress this weekend had caused was palpable, but Belle's easy affection ebbed the most painful of it away. "Yeah? I can't say I know him well enough to know what he'd do, but Mal seems to be pretty close to him." He chewed on his lip and let his eyes close, focusing on how close she was and the way Belle always seemed to know just what to do. "Don't count my chickens before they hatch, m'love, gonna find out tonight if we're even still friends. They could just wanna toss me out, y'know? Ban me from the friendship circle or something."

Belle: She could feel how tense he was, her fingertips kneading at the knots at the back of his neck and pulling him closer for no other reason than comfort. There was a time for flirtation but this wasn't it. "No one in their right mind would ban you from their friendship circle, Beau." She smiled a little knowing how dramatic he could be. "Martin doesn't strike me as the type to see anyone he doesn't want to see. And if Mal is giving you baked goods then clearly you're not hated there." Taking his face in her hands, she gave him a gentle kiss, closing her eyes and resting her head against his again as she pulled back from it. "If they decide you're so unworthy, which is again unlikely, you and I will quit this place and run away to Morocco."

Beau let her move him in, let her seep the comfort in that he needed. Usually things didn't get to him like this, but anything that could mess up a friendship - or more than one - left him a little... off balance. "Have I mentioned lately that you're my favorite?" He grinned sheepishly, leaning a little more heavily into her. "So I'm not the only one that views Malcolm's food as synonymous for friendship? I always assumed if he didn't like you he'd refuse to see you." Despite the flippant replies he was taking it to heart. The kiss was returned very lightly before Beau circled his arms around her and held her close. "That's the best plan I've ever heard. We could get a house by the ocean and watch the world from our thrones."

Belle: "No, I totally equate all friendship with people who give me food. I've been told I'm like a dog that way. Or maybe that's not what they meant," she joked lightly and turned her head, nuzzling her nose against his jaw. This was how he worked through things and she got it, it was similar to how she coped or dealt with a difficult situation. Something physical to ground and jokes to lift the spirits. "House rules. No clothing inside at all, minimal clothing outside. Snacks on hand always. Aaaand..." She thought for a moment, lips pressed to his chin. "Wild sex, every day. That will show 'em."

Beau "Ha! If that's not what they meant then - well, I can't beat them all up for you, but I can try." One hand rubbed over her back, and it was as much a thank you as it was returning what she was giving him. It made it easier to breathe and to stop his own thoughts, and he couldn't be grateful enough that they'd fallen into this rhythm. "So you don't want me in your friend group? Then guess what, I've got the most gorgeous girl in my house and my bed, and you're stuck being friends with each other. Without sex. Or snacks. So ha." He said it with a heavy accent, and it might not have been a bad image at all, but he laughed at the sheer hilarity of the looks he thought he'd get if he ever said those words to either of the men. "It's the ultimate punishment."

Belle: "My hero," she said, laughing against his stubble. He always had good hands and everything else that had been on her mind, coming back down to earth after a weekend away from everything, was eased as he rubbed along her spine. It helped too that he seemed lighter, not so burdened as he was before. "The ultimate revenge," she countered. "You have to take my name when we inevitably marry for the lavish and ridiculous wedding, though. Beau Beauregard is too good to pass up." Sliding her hand from his neck up to his face, she traced his features. "It wouldn't be so bad, hm? Call it a break glass in case of emergency plan."

Beau beamed at her, deliberately rubbing his cheek against hers again. It was so easy just to sit here like this. So relaxing. He didn't understand what people did, now, when they didn't have someone like Belle to calm things down in their head. "How many times would you tell the world my name just so you'd get to repeat Beau Beauregard? I'm betting 100 before the honeymoon is even over." Beau watched her with a quiet smile, nuzzling in almost like a cat would. "That should be our 10 Years plan. I've seen them in American movies. 'If we're still single in ten years, then....'"

Belle: "Oh, at least two hundred by the time we leave Fiji. That's where we're honeymooning, by the way. Got it all planned out, I'm efficient like that. Beau Beauregard." Coffee and breads forgotten, Belle matched his smile with one of her own as she danced her fingertips across his face. He had a smile that lit up his eyes and she reminded herself to practice more with her portraits. Maybe by the time this plan came to fruition she'd be able to capture that glint on canvas. "Ten years plan. I think thats reasonable. And-" she leaned in closer, the tracing hand trailing back into his hair again. "By then I won't be your student."

Beau "Does that mean I get no say in the wedding either? Fiji sounds like a nudists dream," Beau teased, hands wandering down to her waist and settling there where it was comfortable. The easy way she touched him was something he didn't have with too many of his friends, and it was something he could very easily get used to. "Oh," he said on the edge of a sigh, grin spreading enough he could feel it stretching his face. "You are an absolute genius, love. The world's going to be stunned. Love story for the ages. Friends, turned student-teacher, turned naked and married on a beach in Fiji."

Belle: Laughing quietly, Belle tried to imagine it. It was almost easy, although she doubted Beau would still be single in ten years. He was a wanderer, but with a loyal streak that begged to be settled eventually, so long as the wanderlust was fed and happy. For her own part, Belle didn't plan to be Mrs. Anyone again. As nice of a fantasy as it was, it was just that. A fantasy. "They'll make a movie about us. It's too bad we won't be friends with a famous writer anymore, we'll have to find someone else to do the screenplay." She played with his hair idly, leaning back enough to meet his eyes with a grin and a shake of her head. "And how will we remind ourselves of this promise?"

Beau willingly went along with the fantasy - though he knew getting married was something that wouldn't happen to him unless they were both still single in 10 years, it was fun and fun was what he did best. "We could always make him pay us to produce it. We're so famous by then that he'd be knocking down our door to get a chance to put us in his screenplay," Beau said sagely, knocking their foreheads and grinning back cheesily. "Oh! I've got an idea." He moved over to the drawer he kept the bread in and pulled one of the twist ties off, twisting it around her ring finger with a flourish and an ugly bow on top. "There. This is why I never tried sculpting."

Belle: She was loathe to let him go but watched with a curious and delighted grin as he produced a twist tie. She held out her hand for him, laughing and wiggling her fingers when he finished. "It's /perfect/, darling. Not a diamond in the world could compare." Still smiling, clearly unable to help it at this point, she took his face in her hands and drew him into another kiss. This time she indulged a little, lingering at his lower lip and not pulling away just yet. "I should go, you have a date."

Beau kissed over the ring with an even grander flourish, quite proud of himself for finding something that'd work on such short notice. "But of course, a chuisle mo chroí, you deserve nothing but the very best." Maybe Beau should have pulled away. Maybe he should've focused on the fact that she was a student, but they'd been friends for 4-something years now, and if he was honest cupping her cheek and turning the kiss into something proper (if brief) was much more enjoyable. "Come see me after classes tomorrow?"

Belle: As she sighed into the kiss, Belle reminded herself of all the reasons that it could only be a kiss. At the end of the day she valued Beau above her own urges and she wouldn't see him losing a job that he deserves for their lack of self control. Inwardly she was glad that she'd come to see him after a wholly satisfying weekend away, or else the decision might have been a different one. "Absolutely. Good luck tomorrow, future Mr. Beauregard." Giving him a last peck on the cheek she hopped off the counter and smacked him on the butt on her way out, laughing as she left.

#miaapara #para 02 #para: old friends

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