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shiftingparadise · 2 years

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Modern Levi x Reader: Thought you didn't like me

Hi guys! I hope you like this one with modern Levi :) Enjoy!

Word Count: 3924

‘I’ll never pass that course, Min’, you sighed with both of your hands in your hair.

You were studying in the library with your friend Armin. You’d been postponing studying your History course because it was just too much, all the dates, all the events that happened, … Your brain just couldn’t keep them all apart.

‘You’ll be fine Y/N, just try to remember what I told you’, Armin was sitting next to you, his eyes were looking worried, he knew you wouldn’t be able to study it in time for the exam. There were only a couple of weeks left, and you still had to study your other courses. ‘I should’ve started studying earlier’, you looked at your phone to see the time. ’10 PM? Min, you better get to your dorm, you need to get some sleep. I’m sorry I’ve kept you here’, you quickly closed your book. ‘Oh, don’t worry about it’, the blonde smiled at you, ‘If there’s anything you need to ask, just call me’, ‘Thanks Min’.

You stayed up all night, studying and making your essays for History.

‘Fuck’, you got up to get some more coffee, ‘It’s 6 AM already, my class starts in a couple of hours’. You gently massaged your forehead, ‘This headache’s killing me’, you grunted before taking aspirin. You couldn’t afford to feel sick now.

‘Shit, shit, shit’, you quickly grabbed your laptop. You’d fallen asleep, causing you to be late for class. You started running across the hallways, hoping you’d make it just in time.

‘Hey, brat’, you could hear his cold voice from next to the class door. You closed your eyes, ‘What?’. You hated your teacher’s assistant more than anything. He was always so cocky, as if he was king of the world. ‘You’re late, everyone’s already inside’. ‘I’m sure the professor doesn’t mind’, you forced a smile on your face. ‘Tch’, Levi was looking you up and down, ‘What happened to you anyway? You look like shit’. ‘Can I just go inside, please?’, you sighed. The assistant shrugged his shoulders before opening the door for you.

‘Finally, some luck’, you sighed out in relief. Your professor hadn’t started yet, he wasn’t even in the classroom. You quickly scanned the classroom, the only room left was in the front row. You sat down, pulled out your laptop from your backpack, and took a sip from your water bottle.

Suddenly, you could hear the assistant’s footsteps approaching your spot. ‘This is my seat, scoot over’. ‘There’s plenty of room left, Mr. Ackerman’, you looked up at him with an annoyed gaze. ‘I don’t care, this is my spot, and I’m sitting here’. You let out a deep sigh, so he would notice how much you despised him. ‘Disobedient brat’, he whispered while sitting down. ‘What did you say?’, you looked at him. Levi placed a hand under his chin, looking at you with an uninterested gaze. ‘Disobedient brat’, he repeated himself. ‘You can’t call me that’, you tried to stay calm. ‘I think I can call you whatever I want brat’. ‘No, you ca-‘, you could hear your professor saying good morning to the class. You gave Levi an angry look before turning to your laptop. ‘

‘This can’t be happening’, you could feel yourself panicking. How could the professor give a surprise test this close before the exam? You were going to fail, you knew you were. There was no way you were going to pass, you still needed to study almost more than half of the course. You could feel Mr. Ackerman’s gaze on you the entire time, causing you to hate him even more. ‘He’ll be pleased to see me fail like this’, you could feel your pen pressing harder down on the paper when you thought about him.

‘Oi brat’, you could feel Mr. Ackerman’s hand on your shoulder when you were walking towards your dorm. ‘What?’, you rolled your eyes at him. ‘You knew you miserably failed that test, right?’.

‘Really? What’s his problem, as if I don’t know that’, you could feel your hand shaking with anger and sadness. You wished you were more like Armin or Mikasa, they passed every course, even if they didn’t study. You were disappointed in yourself for not being as smart as your friends.

‘I know’, you looked at him, his hand was still holding your shoulder. ‘Didn’t you start studying? The exam’s only a few weeks away’, ‘I did’. Levi took his hand from your shoulder, ‘Do you understand everything?’, his voice didn’t sound as cocky as it normally does. ‘No’, you looked at the ground, you felt defeated for finally admitting to yourself you didn’t understand anything the professor had been teaching the whole semester. ‘What part do you find difficult?’, he tilted his head, leaning against the wall, ‘All of it’ you crossed your arms, looking at the trashcan next to you. ‘You can’t be serious’, you could see a smirk appearing on his face, ‘Not everyone’s as smart as you’, you gritted your teeth before tightening your grip on your bag and turning around, ‘Asshole’, you murmured under your breath. ‘Wait’, Mr. Ackerman’s voice filled up the deserted hallway. ‘What? You want to smirk some more at my stupidity?’, you looked over your shoulder. ‘Tch, if you want, you can come to my apartment tonight. It’s not far from the campus, I’ll teach you the course material. Professor Erwin’s explanation is too difficult, I can explain it in a much simpler way’. ‘I don’t need your help’, you were still mad at him. ‘You do brat, whether you like it or not. I’ll mail you my address’, Levi turned around, walking back into the classroom.

You went back into your dorm. When you opened your laptop, you could see Mr. Ackerman had already sent you an email with the subject: ‘Don’t be late’. You didn’t want his help, but you didn’t want to fail your class either. You had no other choice.

‘Is it inappropriate for me to go like this?’, you looked in the mirror. You had your hair in a messy bun, wearing an oversized sweater with your black jeans and your plain black All-Stars. You were too tired to dress properly. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway’, you murmured to yourself before walking to his apartment.

‘You’re late’, Levi opened his door. ‘I’m sorry Mr. Ackerman’, you rolled your eyes, ‘Couldn’t find your apartment. I’m only 10 minutes la-‘, ‘Shut up brat’, he let you inside.

His apartment was clean, almost too clean, but it was still cosy. He had a complete wall that was covered with books in a book rack. On his desk in front of the window were several more.

‘Please, sit down’, Levi signalled to his couch, ‘Want some tea?’. ‘Please’, you sighed, ‘I love tea’. ‘Good’, you could hear Levi putting on the kettle. ‘Did you bring your books?’, ‘Yes Mr. Ackerman’, you dug inside your backpack to find them. ‘Sorry I’m dressed like this, I was too tired to change out of my comfy clothes’.

‘Why did I say that? What does it even matter?’, you smacked your forehead in embarrassment.

You could see Levi staring at you with his cold gaze, ‘Please don’t act so strange’. ‘Y-yes, sorry’, you looked at your hands who were now placed on your knees, gently tucking at your black jeans. ‘So, let’s see. This semester had 13 sessions of Erwin’s course… So, I suggest we’ll spread them over 2 weeks, that way you’ll have 4 days until the exam to study it more closely’. ‘How much do I need to pay you?’, you grabbed your wallet. You could feel Levi’s hand on yours, ‘Please, put that away. I don’t want anything from you’, his voice sounded soft again. ‘B-but you’re sacrificing your free time for me’, you looked at him in disbelief. ‘I don’t mind, I want you to pass kid’, he slowly let go of your hand, taking a sip from his tea, ‘Thank you, Mr. Ackerman’. ‘Just call me Levi, please’, he grabbed your book from the couch, slowly turning the pages.

After 4 hours, he was finally done.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep’, he smirked, ‘No, your explanation, it really helped me!’, you smiled, ‘You explained it so much easier, and it’s much more comprehensible’. You looked at the time, ‘9.15 PM, hm’, ‘What?’, Levi tilted his head. ‘I want to buy you some coffee, o-or tea’, you looked at him. ‘No that isn’t necess-‘, ‘Please’, you looked at him with your puppy eyes. ‘Tch, fine’, Levi got up from his couch, grabbing his coat.

You headed to the coffee shop around the corner from his apartment. You decided to walk to the park after you grabbed some coffee, sitting down on a bench.

‘Hm, this is delicious’, you smiled at him. ‘Tch’, Levi smiled, one leg was placed on the other, holding one hand on his ankle. ‘What?’, you leaned over to look at his face. ‘I always thought you hated me’, he took a sip from his cup. ‘I did’, you smirked, ‘Tch, brat’. ‘I like you now’, ‘Whatever’, Levi shrugged his shoulder.

The two of you talked some more. Suddenly, you could hear your phone ring.

‘Oh I’m sorry’, you grabbed your phone. ‘Eren?’, you frowned, ‘What does he want’, you murmured to yourself before answering. ‘What?’, you sighed, ‘No, I’ll pick it up tomorrow’, ‘Yeah whatever Eren’, ‘No, I’m not in the fucking mood’, ‘Yeah, see you later’, you hung up.

‘What was that about?’, Levi looked at you. ‘O-oh no, that was, uhm, a friend’, you nervously smiled. ‘A friend, hm?’, Levi stood up from the bench, ‘Well, I see you tomorrow around the same time’, Levi walked away before turning back around. ‘Wait, I’ll walk you back to the campus, it’s dark already’. ‘N-no that isn’t necessary, rea-‘, ‘I said I’ll walk you back’, his voice sounded stern again. ‘O-okay, thanks’, you got up from the bench.

Two weeks passed, and you only had a couple of sessions left with Levi. To be honest, you didn’t want it to end. You liked spending so much time with him. You liked when he was so close to you, when his hand met yours when you grabbed your cup of tea from him. You liked the way his leg touched yours on the couch, the way he smiled. There was no denying that he was good-looking, but under his cold appearance, there was a soft, and a gentle man. He always walked you back to your dorm, often placed his coat over your shoulders to be sure you weren’t cold, always held the door open for you… You couldn’t help but to think about him at night, about how you wanted to kiss him, hold him…

‘Uhu, I get it’, you yawned. ‘You’re not paying attention’, Levi sounded stern. He was pissed. ‘I’m sorry, I’m exhausted’, you scratched the back of your neck. ‘Huh?’, Levi tilted his head, he could see some scratches on your neck. ‘What the hell is that?’, ‘What?’, you sighed. ‘Those scratches’, Levi pulled down your shirt. ‘O-oh no, that’s nothing’, you nervously smiled, ‘Well, I’m ready for the next chapter’. ‘Did someone hurt you?’, ‘No reall-‘, you tried to find some excuse. ‘Then why the hell do you have those marks on your neck?’. ‘Levi’, you closed your eyes, ‘Let it go, please’, your cheeks were burning red. ‘No, who did that to you?’. ‘Shit Levi’, you sighed while scratching your neck, ‘he didn’t hurt me, we were just… you know’, you turned your head away from him in embarrassment. ‘Oh, I see’, his voice sounded cold again, it hadn’t for a while, ‘I’m sorry’. ‘N-no don’t’ wor-‘, ‘Turn to page 345’, he interrupted you.

That evening, Levi acted distantly. He didn’t even want to grab some coffee with you after. The next morning, you could see him standing in the hallway before class.

‘Mr. Ackerman!’, you smiled. On campus, you still addressed him with his last name. ‘What brat?’, he looked uninterested, but before you could say anything else you could feel an arm around your shoulder. ‘Y/N, I’ve missed you’, you could hear Eren’s voice. You could feel your whole body tensing up, you nervously bit the inside of your cheek. Levi looked at Eren, then back at you, he could see you felt uncomfortable. ‘Did you want to say something?’, Levi was talking to you, but his gaze was fixed on the brunette. ‘Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were talking to Mr. Ackerman. Well, I see you tonight’, you could feel Eren quickly pinching your ass before placing a kiss on the side of your head. ‘So, is he the reason why you’re so tired?’, Levi looked unamused. ‘N-no’, you nervously chuckled, ‘Well, I better get inside’, you quickly walked past Levi.

For some reason, you didn’t want Levi to know you were sleeping with Eren. It was not like you were dating him, hell no. He wasn’t your type, but you were still young and well… to be honest, Eren was great in bed. You’d known him since high school, and even though you never dated, you’d been friends with benefits for quite some time now. Never committing to each other, never any drama.. You could sleep with other people, he could… Neither one of you really cared about that stuff, it was just easy with Eren.

‘Eren, stop it!’, you giggled. You were standing against the wall in the hallway. Eren was waiting for you after class. ‘People are going to see us, ‘So?’, Eren smirked while holding his hand next to your head, placing a soft kiss on your neck. ‘I don’t want people to think we’re together’, you smiled. ‘If you weren’t so pretty, I maybe could’ve waited until tonight to kiss you’, Eren’s other hand was resting on your waist, ‘But you look so pretty today’, he smiled. ‘I’ll see you tonight Eren, you smirked before ducking, so you could walk under his arm that was caging you in.

Levi could hear the two of you. He was waiting inside the classroom. He waited until he could hear you walking away from Eren. He didn’t want to see Eren touching you or placing kisses on your face.

You quickly showered before heading towards Levi’s apartment.

‘Levi?’, you softly knocked on his door. After a minute he opened it, ‘Don’t you have somewhere else to be?’, he tilted his head. ‘Huh? I thought we were going to –‘, ‘Thought you were going to see your boyfriend tonight’, Levi leaned against the door frame. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend’, you narrowed your eyes. ‘Tch, don’t lie’, ‘I’m not’, you looked at the ground. ‘Whatever brat’, Levi walked back into his apartment, you followed, closing the door behind you. ‘Sit down’, you quickly obeyed, he normally wasn’t so snappy. ‘Is he the one that left those scratches in your neck?’, Levi was standing in front of you, arms crossed. ‘W-why are we talking about this?’, you nervously looked at him. ‘Yes or no?’, he kept looking at you.

‘Shit, I can feel my cheeks getting red already’, you could die from embarrassment.

Levi placed himself on one knee, placing a hand underneath your chin, thumb caressing your bottom lip, ‘Yes or no brat?’. ‘H-huh?’, you looked at Levi, he was smirking again. ‘Y-yes’, you could feel your mouth getting dry from being so nervous. ‘So you like it rough?’, ‘S-sorry bu-‘, ‘No ‘but’’, Levi firmly grabbed your jaw, ‘Only yes or no’.

You tried to figure out what was happening. Even though you fantasized about Mr. Ackerman, you never dreamt that he would be so dominant towards you, it kind of turned you on, but he knew that. You knew Levi was doing this on purpose.

‘You better answer me brat’, he got up from the ground, still holding your jaw, making you look up at him. His face was only an inch away from yours, ‘Yes or no’, his grip around your jaw tightened again. ‘Y-yes’, you softly replied. ‘Does Eren fulfil your needs?’, you shook your head. ‘That’s what I thought, otherwise you wouldn’t start wearing those revealing clothes when seeing me. Remember when you first came here? With your oversized sweater?’, his hand let go of your jaw, softly travelling down to your neck, ‘After exactly 2 days, you began wearing tight, revealing shirts and short skirts’, he smirked while his hand was wrapped around your neck.

You were lost in his eyes, in his voice, you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against your skin.

‘Now, I’m not complaining brat, don’t get me wrong. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be wearing any clothes at all’. ‘W-what are you doing?’, you looked at him. ‘I’m going to treat you exactly how you want to be treated’, he roughly grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the couch. ‘Levi I-‘, ‘Don’t pretend you don’t want this brat, I’ve seen the way you look at me’.

You started to smirk, ‘Oh poor Mr. Ackerman’, you pouted, ‘You don’t think that.. No, you can’t possibly think that I want you?’. ‘Hm, I like when you talk like that to me. Keep calling me that’, he groaned, pulling you closer, ‘Listen here brat, I don’t care if you want me or not. I want you and that’s all that matters. Now be a good girl and do as I say’. ‘Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Ackerman, I don’t know how to be a good girl for you, I only know how to be one for Er-‘, ‘Don’t you dare to say his name’, once again his hand was gripping around your jaw, ‘He doesn’t know how to please you, I do’.

‘Fuck’, you tried to play along, but you couldn’t wait anymore. You wanted Levi, you wanted to feel him against your skin, you wanted all of him.

‘L-levi please’, you whimpered. ‘Levi, huh? Thought I told you to call me Mr. Ackerman’, his lips were almost touching yours. ‘Sorry Mr. Ackerman’, you placed your hands on his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it. ‘Stop that’, he grabbed your wrist, ‘You’ll do as I say, understand?’. You nodded. ‘I need to hear it’, ‘Yes Mr. Ackerman’.

Levi softly grabbed your hand, leading you into his bedroom.

‘Sit down’, his voice sounded soft again. Finally, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. ‘Listen, if I go too far, if I do anything that you don’t like… I want you to tell me immediately. I want you to enjoy this as much as I’m going to’, again a soft kiss on your lips. ‘Kid, I really need you to say something now’, he placed both of his hands on your cheeks, almost looking concerned at you. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll tell you’, you whispered with a soft smile.

You couldn’t understand how he could be so perfect. Even when he wanted to be rough, when he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him, he still could be so sweet, so concerned.

He started placing kisses on your neck, causing you to let out soft moans. ‘Don’t hold back, I want to hear you’, Levi softly bit your neck. His hands were softly unbuttoning your jeans, quickly pulling them off. ‘Get rid of your shirt brat’, he said while unbuttoning his.

Your mouth fell open when you looked at his body. You never expected him to be so muscular, ‘What’s wrong brat?’, he smirked, ‘If you don’t close that mouth of yours quickly, I’ll find something to fill it up with’. ‘Sorry’, you blushed, pulling your shirt over your head.

‘Fuck’, Levi groaned while looking at you. You were even more perfect than he’d imagined. ‘W-what’s wrong?’, you whispered. Levi sat down next to you, ‘I can’t do this’, ‘Wh-what?’, you stood up from his bed, holding your arms in front of your stomach. ‘Please sit next to me’, he smiled, and you obeyed. Levi softly placed his hand on your cheek before gently kissing you, ‘I wanted to fuck you, wanted to treat you like I know you like it…’, he whispered in between kisses, ‘But I don’t want to treat you like that. I want to treat you with respect. I still want you to beg me, still want you to call out my name, but I want you, not some persona you put on when you let Eren fuck you’, Levi’s other hand was caressing your back, carefully undoing the back of your bra, ‘I hope you don’t mind it if we do this my way’.

You could feel butterflies dancing in your stomach. Levi was right, you liked it when Eren was rough with you, you didn’t want him to be soft with you, but you wanted Levi to be. You wanted to feel loved by him, to feel like he cared about you.

‘Fuck Levi’, you could see him hovering on top of you, his arm placed next to your head while the other was holding your cheek, making sure you were looking at him when he pushed into you. He wanted to see every expression on your face, he wanted to see you melt under his touch. He pressed his lips against yours, ‘You’re a dream Y/N. I can’t get enough of you’, he said softly, forehead pressed against yours. ‘Fuck’, he groaned, ‘I-I know this may be boring for you but-‘, ‘Levi, this is perfect’, you closed your eyes, you could feel yourself tremble when he pushed into you, ‘No one ever made me feel like this’.

Suddenly, you could hear your phone ringing. Levi stopped, looking at it on his nightstand.

‘Eren, huh?’, he smirked, quickly grabbing your phone, ‘I want you to answer this’, ‘B-but we’re having se-‘, ‘Pick it up brat’. You quickly answered it, ‘Hi Ren’, you looked confused into his blue eyes.

Levi started rocking into you again, every thrust was harder than the previous. ‘N-no I’m busy Ren’, you tried to say without moaning, ‘N-no I’m no-, fuck!’, you looked at Levi, ‘Keep calling’, he placed his lips on your neck. ‘Th-that was Mr. Ackerman’, you said softly.

You could feel Levi placing his hand in between your legs, causing you to reach your high, ‘Keep calling him’, Levi whispered in your other ear, ‘I want him to hear how I make you feel’. ‘Y-yeah, fuck- No! Nothing’s wr-wrong Ren’, you closed your eyes, you could feel a familiar knot appearing in your stomach, ‘P-please Levi’, you begged, dropping your phone on the floor.

You didn’t care if Eren could hear you, if the whole world could hear you. You wanted Levi, you wanted him and only him. No one could ever make you feel like this again, only he could.

‘Fuck Y/N, you feel so good’, Levi groaned when you reached your high, reaching his at the same time.

You didn’t know if Eren stayed on the phone, if Eren heard everything. All you knew was that you were laying in Levi’s arms while he was slowly caressing your naked body, butterflies still dancing in your stomach.

‘D-did you enjoy yourself?’, Levi sounded insecure, something you never expected him to be. You crawled on top of him, placing kisses on his whole face, ‘I’ve never felt so good Levi’, you said softly, nestling your head in-between his neck and shoulders. He quickly placed his arms around you before letting out a deep sigh, ‘You really are a dream’.

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wevegottogetaway · 3 years

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El Patrón

I’m so excited to finally be posting this piece. I’ve been working on it for the past few days and it’s been consuming my mind. If you like angst, smut, art student Harry, and great plot twists, this story is for you, so buckle up, cause you’ve got 13700 and then some waiting for you! And on that note, I don’t thing I have many words left in my brain... so, hope you enjoy xx

TW: smut, fool language

After her first day back to classes, Y/n is not surprised to see Harry Styles’ lanky frame standing behind the bar of Bottom’s Up. She hoped that he would bugger off to work some place else but alas, all her summer prayers were unanswered. For yet another semester, she would have to endure bartending by his sides, trying with all her might not to jab a corkscrew at his throat every time he opened his gob. Granted, she could have switched jobs herself, but the pay is too good to turn down and the bar sits literally right around the corner from her place; a match made in heaven if you ask her. Besides, she’s been mastering the art of tuning out the insufferable green-eyed prick for two years now, so what’s one more? Of course, knowing it is likely to be the last - having just kicked off the final year of her psychology major - makes the news easier to stomach. And with any luck, the fool did some sort of soul-searching over the break and came back a changed man.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to grace us with her delightful presence again. Knew you couldn’t stand to live without me, y/l/n." Harry greets her with a smirk as he looks up from his phone.

Well, some much for change, but luck has never been on y/n’s side anyway; she knew it was wishful thinking to entertain the idea of a pleasant or even tolerable Harry. "Shut it, Styles. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit," she quips back and goes straight to the employee’s locker room to dispose of her stuff and swap her top for one bearing the bar’s logo. Once done, she takes a brief look in the tattered mirror still hanging by the door to readjust her ponytail, before joining her co-worker behind the counter. The bar is rather quiet for now, clock having not chimes 6pm yet, but y/n expects the place to be soon crawling with students drinking the classes’ return off their mind.

The next few minutes are spent in unexpected peaceful silence, y/n prepping for the upcoming rush while Harry idly sits by, not lifting a single finger to help her out. Admittedly, he’s completed all his pre-shift duties during the last hour, but y/n doesn’t think it warrants the smug look painted on his face as he watches her battle a jar of olives with an old opener and a concentrated frown. So peaceful silence was a bit of a stretch, maybe.

Then to make matters worse he decides to taunt her, "I see you’ve grown zero muscle strength over the break. Too busy vegetating on the beach?"

The surge of anger triggered by the provocation is enough impetus for her to crack the can open, but it doesn’t stop her from turning to face him, "I see you’ve grown zero neuron in that thick head of yours. Too busy making people miserable instead?" she counters with flaring nostrils and a look of disdain hardening her features.

"Ah, still got a feisty mouth on you. ‘Was worried you might turn soft on us." Harry sasses back, but y/n doesn’t bother telling him off this time. No matter how strong her comeback, he’ll just brush it off with that smile of his that irritates her to no end. That’s the thing with Harry, the bastard has the thickest skin of all, he’s downright unattainable. And believe it or not, bad-mouthing doesn’t come naturally to y/n, he just seems to draw it out of her, perhaps as the trigger of some kind of survival instinct. Time and time again she’s tried to come up with a quip that would leave him speechless, tail between his legs, but he always has a wittier reply to throw back at her. For so long they’ve been playing this debilitating game of ping pong and she has yet to claim a point to his countless wins.

It’d been the case since their first meeting on that dreadful Friday two years ago. Y/n was about to embark on her second year at uni and decided to get a job so she could afford her own place instead of the dreary dorms she’d gotten used to. Bottom’s Up had seemed to be the perfect choice, a 2 minutes walk from the sweet little apartment she’d just visited a few days prior. She’d been excited for her first shift that night, air still warm from the Indian summer sun drawing a plethora of eager students to come enjoy their last day of freedom. Her happy jitters had quickly dissolved once she’d made her way in the staff-only area located behind the bar though. There, she’d walked in on a very frustrated Harry vociferating at a lost-looking colleague, "how many times do you have to fuck up before doing your bloody job, Steve? Stop sitting on your lazy ass, or I swear I’ll-"

She’d come to this Steve guy’s defense then, furious at the tall curly hair jerk for bullying his way around, "stop it, you asshole. You can’t talk to people like trash, who do you think you are?" Granted, she didn’t know it at the time, but the lost look on Steve's face was in fact pretty standard for the amount of weed in his system; nor did she know that the lad could actually win the Olympics of lazy asses hands down, should such a discipline be appended. It was too late to call off the hostilities though. War had been declared, and aside maybe from that one time he had graciously accepted to cover for her when she’d had a trip to Brighton planned for one of her classes, no truce had ever been reached. Besides, she’s sure it was more so because he was low on cash rather than to fulfill the hidden desire to help her out for once in his life.

Now, as she finishes wiping her work surface with a wet cloth, y/n wishes more than ever to be teleported in a parallel universe where she doesn’t have to work with the bane of her existence, much less see his annoyingly handsome face four times a week. (Also, exams would only be optional in this alternate reality of hers, but that’s another fantasy for another day.) Mainly, she’s just glad she doesn’t see him around campus ever, the art building standing all the way across from the psychology department. At least she’s Harry-free the moment she steps out of the bar; she’d probably have a nervous breakdown if she had to put up with his antics outside of work.

***

A month in the new semester, the novelty of it all has finally worn off to make way for routines to settle in. Y/n’s weeks now consist in a well-practiced cycle of sleep, study, eat, work and occasionally go out with her best friend Mia. Her shifts at Bottom’s Up still prove to be challenging because of the company she’s forced to keep but things seem to have calmed down at the bar too. Students are now less inclined to party the week away, mainly indulging during the second half of the week, but more importantly, Harry appears to be less of a smug bastard and more of a sulky sod. For some reason, the lad has been stuck in a sullen mood, constant frown wrinkling his forehead. He has reverted to distant one-word answers as though he is saving a dictionary worth of words for whatever conundrum is going on in his brain. Y/n doesn’t mind though, and almost welcomes the transition if it means less digs taken at her expense.

Now y/n finds herself on her way to the campus library for a much needed paper-writing cramming session (the assignment is due the following day and she barely has two thirds of the work completed). After a quick stop by the coffee shop down the block, she finally strides in the lobby of the library, ready to dive nose first into the riveting matters of cognitive psychology. She’s already so focused mulling over concepts’ definition in her mind, that it takes her a minute to realize something is going on.

It’s nothing major really, no big fire rushing around the premises or fist-fight breaking the crowd into a frenzy. No, just everyone seemingly hushing and gasping, bewildered expressions etched upon their faces as they keep pointing towards the nearby study room. Truthfully, y/n might have been completely oblivious to it, it she weren’t a psychology major; but reading people’s feelings and interactions is kind of her thing, so she does notice the bubbly energy infiltrating the usually quiet space. What could possibly have them so intrigued, she wonders as more students come out of the room with the same looks of wonder.

Her confusion is finally quelled when she steps into the study room in question and her eyes fall on what has everyone so engaged. On the wall to her right, between two sets of shelves brimming with decades-old books, hangs a life size canvas of audacious shapes and bold colors. Not one seems to have been left out, the painting seemingly transporting the viewer in a psychedelic albeit appealing trance. It’s full of contrasts, an embodiment of serenity and boldness at the same time, and y/n can’t stop ogling the masterpiece for the life of her. The amount of passion is so obviously overwhelming, yet she can feel all of the artist’s emotions underneath each of the brushstrokes.

After another minute of wondrous observation, her thoughts are interrupted by a foreign voice. "El Patrón? I wonder who that could be," the stranger wonders aloud, and her eyes immediately drift off to the bottom right of the painting to catch the small but unmistakable signature: black cursive letter spelling the two words withholding the real artist’s identity. The mystery only adds up to the appeal of the work and y/n already feels a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach at the idea of ever finding out what beautiful soul is responsible for such mind-bending work. She hopes this won’t be last she sees of it.

***

It’s Friday night and unfortunately for y/n, she’s stuck at work with her least favorite person in the world. It’s all the more unfortunate that Harry seems to be back to his usual annoying self, his thoughts finally free from whatever trouble had plagued them, and eager to fall back into nuisance mode. Less unfortunate for y/n and much to Harry’s discontent, Mia decided to stop by and keep her company. Though she feels slightly sorry for her having the act as her buffer for the night, y/n figures she’s more than making up for it with every free cocktail she keeps sliding towards her friend. Their conversation is scattered at best since patrons keep interrupting them for a fresh pint of ale, but as the night slowly dies down they manage to talk longer than 20 seconds.

The manager of the bar has long clocked off and gone home, as per usual on Friday nights, leaving both her and Harry the pleasure to indulge in a few drinks of their own. They don’t do it every week and always keep it low-key of course; Mia’s tonight presence mostly accounting for y/n’s partaking while Harry just likes a nice glass of tequila when the week-end comes around and there’s nobody to tell him off about it. One thing they never do though, is drink together, like two friends celebrating yet another week they survived at uni. Come to think of it, the only thing they do share is a job position and their never-ending bickering. Cheers to that, y/n takes another sip of her gin martini in sarcasm.

She’s brought back to reality by Mia as the tipsy brunette lets out a loud gasp before she inquires in a slightly high-pitched voice, "y/n! totally forgot to tell you, went by the library today and you’ll never guess what was there!"

"Oh my god, you saw the painting too, didn’t you" y/n answers, excited at the idea of discussing the whole thing with her best friend. Truth be told, the majestic work of art hasn’t left her mind since she’d first seen it a few days before.

"Yes" Mia squeals in confirmation, "I mean, it’s kinda impossible to miss. I wonder how they got it there without anyone seeing."

Y/n has wondered the same thing and she came to one conclusion, "they probably sneaked in last Sunday after the library closed, it’s the only time the building is empty," Mia humming in agreement. The campus library is opened 24/7 all days except on Sundays, so realistically speaking it is the only window of time that would allow for such an experiment. Whether said experiment required an actual break-in or was conducted in full legality remains a mystery but that is just bygones in y/n’s eyes. She’s much to mesmerized by the work to give a damn about how it got there in the first place.

"Oi y/l/n! What are you two fawning over this time" Harry chirps in the conversation, uninvited as always, and y/n hates how condescending he just sounded.

"Not that you could ever understand something with substance, if your lack thereof is any indication, but it’s none of your damn business," y/n spats out dismissively but Mia’s Margarita-induced brain seems to have forgotten all about their concerted hatred for piss-taking bartenders.

"Harry, you’re an art major aren’t you? D’you know who’s behind that beautiful painting at the library?"

Y/n tilts her head back in a sigh at her friend’s behavior before turning to watch the puzzled look on Harry’s face. He seems to silently gauge the both of them; for what, y/n doesn’t know, and then his whole expression switched to a blasé look. He shrugs in disinterest, "who cares? ’s just one more Banksy wannabe who’s trying at it too hard ‘f you ask me."

Y/n takes it as a personal offense, her admiration for the painting outweighing any instinct she has of avoiding the brazen man taking a sip of his tequila on rocks across from her, "of course you’d say something like that. You’re just jealous you’ll never compete with his talent."

Harry raises a brow at her accusation, "and how would you know since you’ve never seen any of my work?"

It’s a valid point, but not enough to rebut her. "Doesn’t take a genius to know a shallow mind like yours could never create something as deep and transcending. That would require actual emotions from you Harry and we both know the only emotion you’re capable of spreading is irritation."

For once she’s confident she’s gonna have the last word, but in true Harry fashion he just gives her a bored look as if to say ‘is that all?’ towel thrown over his shoulder, "right, and here I thought talking to people like trash was a bad thing. You should really take a page out of your own book, y/n, wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re as big of a jerk as I am." Then he turns back to face the room full of customers, and tends to one disheveled looking guy slurring out an order.

Y/n barely registers the friendly "alright Joe, but ’s the last one," Harry rasps out to the guy, her ears are still ringing from the last words he’d said to her. More specifically, the little truth they held despite how much he deserved the backlash, and y/n absolutely loathes the way her throat seems to be closing in on itself. She’s afraid she’s turning like him, bitter words at the ready and always trying to outdo his own taunting spiels. Before anxiety can settle in her bones though, she swallows back the knot tightening in her airways and goes back to serving customers and conversing with her friend.

***

The next time it happens, she expects it even less. A couple weeks have passed since her gruesome interaction with Harry at the bar, and along with her doubts, all thoughts about art have seemed to vanish from her busy mind. She’s had a few tests occupying all her free time and now that they’ve been done and over with, all she can think about is calling Mia up to plan their next night out; she needs a few drinks that she didn’t make for once.

She’s about to take her phone out of her pocket to send her best friend a text, when she enters the lecture hall of her Monday experimental method and research design class. The déjà-vu feeling that creeps up her spine stops her from completing the action, and y/n frowns at how her fellow students seem to be all entranced in deep conversation, exchanging baffled looks with one another. Even the sleeping kid that sits at the back seems to be more alert than during their last fire evacuation procedure test.

It’s then y/n turns around to see what is hanging at the front of the room, covering the large board. This time, the colors were carefully handpicked by the artists, flashes of pink and yellow dancing along to a frenzied rhythm of salsa as their union creates powerful jets of oranges across the canvas. It vaguely reminds her of the pendant she wears on a daily basis, rose gold laurels wrapped around a delicate sunflower, an orange topaz incrusted in its center. The painting is of abstract nature much like the last one, but the movements of the brush still bring her mind back to the jewel presently nestled between her collarbones. How odd.

The piece is slightly smaller than the last but no less impressive, catching the attention of even the least artistic eye. The sensibility of the artist is so distinct, intentions clearer and more in touch than most people with their own. For a second, y/n thinks she’s glad the pieces have only been ones of unadulterated happiness and colorful bliss so far, because god knows how heart-wrenching the outcome would be if all this uncorrupted honesty was used to fill canvas with pain.

As the professor enters the room, everybody settles back on their seat, and wait for the chap’s reaction. "Well, that sure is something. It seems we have a bit of a mystery painter on our hands, don’t we; and a talented one at that," y/n’s professor smiles at the class as he pulls a computer out of his satchel and places it at top of the front desk. His words make her look back at the artwork, this time settling on the small signature reading El Patrón on its corner. And it’s all it takes for Y/n’s obsession with the anonymous artist to be back in full force.

***

That night she can’t stop raving about the painting as she starts closing the bar after a long and tiresome shift. She’s got a shoulder pressing her phone to her ear, Mia on the line, while she absentmindedly sweeps the floor. Normally the exertion of the job would have her stifling yawns and her bones aching but tonight her voice is perky as ever as she recollects the pinnacle of her day, "you shoulda been there Mia, it was gorgeous. And same as last time, like you’d be minding your business, doing your thing and then boom, it’s there. Damn, this guy is a genius."

As she comes back around the counter, Harry makes sure she notices the roll of his eyes. He’s been wiping and tidying the bar space after making sure everything is stocked up for the next day, all the while listening to her drone about El Patrón and his stroke of genius, praise after praise falling from her lips. She completely brushes off the patronizing gesture and that’s perhaps what irritates him the most. She’s barely acknowledging him or his stunts with all her attention placed on the mystery painter and well, Harry quite likes riling her up. Doesn’t do it out of spite, but merely because he likes the way it ignites a fire in her that he’s seldom seen in people. But now, all her fire is directed elsewhere and he doesn’t know what to think of it.

***

Over the next month, the rumors around El Patrón spread like wildfire as more and more of his works are found scattered around campus. Much to y/n’s delight, she always seems to fall upon them as though they’ve been placed specifically on her path. It didn’t start as obvious though; the first following pieces hung in common areas around campus such as the lunch hall or the student center but as time went by they tended to follow her whereabouts somehow. Y/n knows she’s probably fabulating but when she’d stumble across two absolutely stunning pieces in the lobby of her gym and at the entrance of the psychology building, she couldn’t help but feel deeply attached to them. And the possibility that this mystery artist might have the same attachment to her, only fuels her obsession further, sending her reeling with all but one nerve-wracking question: who is this guy?

And it’s not like she’s the only one pondering over their identity either. Hell, the genius has literally everyone on campus under their spell, trying to uncover the enigma of the year. Everyone seems to be determined to find clues, easter eggs hidden within the paintings that could lead them closer to the truth. El Patrón has effectively turned the whole uni into a large-scale game of Cluedo, people speculating left and right and swapping theories about who it can or cannot be, what year they are probably in, or whether they have an accomplice. Nobody has ever executed such a tour de force in the history of campus, and it has everyone one edge, y/n included, desperate to be in the loop.

The fact that each painting is more beautiful than the last and always seems to connect with her in personal ways doesn’t help her daydreaming either. Take the one she found at the gym for example, for a few second she’d sworn she was looking at a familiar piece of the English South Coast, dark hues of blue fighting dots of white, reminiscent of the way foam always seems to top even the most raging waves as they crash along shores. She’d only had to close her eyes to feel the wind blowing her hair in a thousand directions and the sand engulfing her feet, making its way between her toes and every crevice of her skin. She was still in the middle of her gym when she reopened them though, her sport bag straddling her shoulder as she kept gaping at the painting in adoration.

Her suspicious keeps nagging at her head, the desire to unveil the identity of her beloved artist getting stronger by the day. The feeling is almost unbearable when she spots yet another work of his across from Bottom’s Up. The coincidences keep piling up and the more she mulls it over, the more she’s convinced this mystery guy is talking to her. Damn, is it possible to have a crush on someone because of their work? After months of this cryptic scavenger hunt, she’d dying to know if all her theories are right and the fact that she has no way to find out, is positively killer her.

That’s why when she stumbles across a flyer for a midterm exhibition gala hosted by the art department as she waits in line at her favorite coffee shop, she doesn’t think twice before jotting down all the info. In a week time, most of the uni’s art students would be gathered up in one place to present their term’s work. The chances are too high for y/n to pass up the opportunity, her guts telling her he’ll be there. It makes sense doesn’t it? Surely, this El Patrón ought to be an art student if not a teacher. How else would they have access to all the campus amenities most of the paintings were found in?

As she goes to pick up her coffee from the counter, y/n walks with a newfound spring in her steps; she really can’t wait for this gala to happen.

***

Y/n stands at the entrance of the art building, a black floor-length long-sleeves open-back dress hugging her curves in all the right places. Her heart speeds up at the nervous jitters crawling underneath her skin, and the million question swarming her frantic mind. What if he actually doesn’t know her and doesn’t give a damn about her thoughts on his work? What if it’s actually a woman and she’s been hiding a man’s pen-name to consolidate her deceit? Is she about to make the biggest fool out of herself by coming to this exhibition? She doesn’t know anyone here, nor has she ever been to this kind of event before but she’s decided this guessing game has run its course. Maybe this all thing has nothing to do with her and that’s okay. All she really wants is to have a chance to tell this exquisite mind how remarkable their work is; the rest be damned.

Y/n slowly makes her way inside, and after a quick stop at the coat room to dispose of the unnecessary garment, she is finally greeted by a room full of dressed-up people roaming and chatting around, champagne flutes in hands. How cliche, she thinks with humor, before picking up a glass of the bubbly beverage. It’ll help sooth the nerves, she reasons as she starts walking around the place to observe each of the displays. Despite not having had a glimpse of her number-one painter yet, she finds herself having a good time. Most of the work offered to her is engaging in one way or another; some pieces quite provocative is their depiction, others straight out pushing the limits of 2D, with structures coming out of the canvas as though they were about to grip at the viewer.

Turning at a corner, she comes across his art before she sees him, having almost forgotten art was supposedly his thing too, and she realizes she actually knew someone here apart from the mysterious painter. She takes a brief look at his tall frame, the baby blue suit over his crisp white shirt fitting him perfectly. A black tie is completing the look, and it makes y/n waver for a second. She’s never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans and the bar’s t-shirt every employee is supposed to wear on call. Granted, even that he can make work better than anyone else she can think of, but that suit is something else altogether.

Her eyes shifts back to his work, not wanting to waste too much time on his appearance; she is here on a mission after all. She can’t deny his painting is good as much as she wants too. It’s made of a perfectly executed optic illusion that has her pause for longer than she intended to. The colors are picked wisely only adding to the entrancing design, tempting the viewer to reach out to the painting to convince themselves that this is fact a pretty subterfuge and no reality; the frontier between both worlds much too hard to distinguish. Just like for the rest of the exhibition, a single plaque hangs underneath the canvas, introducing the title of the piece above the name of its artist: Fine Line by Harry Styles. Damn, the bastard had to be talented…

"Is it as depthless as you thought it would be?" A hoarse voice interrupts her inner thoughts. She knows it’s his at the first word and already she regrets ever thinking positive things about him.

"Funny, I would have shared a compliment but you just had to go and open your stupid mouth," she bites back as she fully turns around to face him. She can feel is eyes shamelessly scanning her body, sending her nerves on overdrive. She wants this exchange to be as curt as possible, she’s got important matters to tend to.

"Here for you mysterious bloke, I presume?" he inquires in a taunting voice.

"What’s it to you, anyway?" y/n dodges the question with another, hoping it’ll steer the conversation toward its end.

She’s answered by rosy pouting lips, a hand on his heart in faux vexation, "ouch, was just hopin’ you’d come to see me, and now you’ve just crushed my dreams, love."

The pet-name is not lost on her and Y/n has had enough. In own gulp she downs the rest of her champagne and forces the glass to his chest for him to hold as she makes her way past him, "just leave me alone and go be a pain in someone else’s ass, Harry." She doesn’t wait to see if he’s following her as she marches across the room in long and purposeful strides.

Something in the corner of her eyes catches her attention right then. Halting abruptly, almost making someone walk right into her, she turns her head to the side and that’s when she finally sees it. A whole part of the wall has been dedicated to his work, a shrine of his most outstanding pieces randomly hung against the white surface. Y/n recognizes each and every one of them, but then her eyes take in the extra work added for the exhibition: next to each of the pieces are displayed a bunch of photos capturing the students’ expressions as they first discovered the paintings. Dozens of faces lighting up in amazement, widening eyes and finger pointing at the unexpected intrusions; some show confusion and puzzlement while others simply behold laughter and animated conversation.

In the center of the wall, a video is projected. It’s a compilation of those same moments but this time captured on tape. The sound was removed, but as y/n takes in the faces of her fellow students she can almost hear the sound of their laughters; she’d been there for most of it after all. She thinks the idea is amazing, El Patrón has managed to make the viewer a permanent part of the art. The paintings are marvelous of course, full of emotions and passion, but the mysterious artist has gone one step further by also displaying how those emotions had reflected back on the audience. It is an ode to art, to the power of sharing, and proves art is limitless; not owned by museums, not bound between walls and certainly not restricted for trained-eyes only. Because art isn’t all about beauty, it speaks for the need for sharing that human have but often forget, and this is a perfect reminder of it.

The next tape playing has her eyes doubling over the video, a small gasp escaping her lips as she takes in her own figure. It was taken the day she found the painting at the gym and unlike all the other videos she’s alone. No group of students by her side elbowing her in disbelief, or sharing a puzzle look with her. Just her doe eyes gleaming at the painting, lips slightly parted in pure wonder, as she studies every inch of the canvas. And the feeling that this might mean just as much to him as it does to her comes back crashing on her. She’s not paranoid; this artist his using her as some kind of inspiration, she’s sure of it. Random cannot be this accurate, it would defy any laws of statistics.

After the slideshow finally moves on to the next video, y/n looks around in the hopes of finding the man that has wormed his way into her heart. She’s imagined it a thousand times over during the past week. A young man would be discretely standing on the side, watching the evening pan out and waiting for her to find his work. Then they would make eye contact and he’d make his way over to greet her and share more of his beautiful mind with her. That’s the happily ever after she’s hoped for since that first painting in the library, but alas everyone around her seems to be engrossed in conversation about this and that.

"I thought he would be there too," the unexpected voice makes her jump. She recognizes the student from that first day, she’d also be intrigued by the mysterious man.

"I know, all of his work is here, he has to somewhere around," y/n tries to convince herself. She hasn’t given up yet, she won’t let herself unless she goes home tonight empty-handed. Only after that will she stop searching, she promises herself. If he doesn’t show up tonight, then that’s because he doesn’t want to be found.

The girl next to her has the same disappointed tone when she explains, "you’d think so, but I’ve been asking everyone around and nobody has a clue still."

Before y/n can come up with her own rationalizations, someone starts speaking in a microphone, asking for everyone’s attention. It’s a man in his early fifties making a speech about the whole reason behind the exhibition so y/n pegs him as the head of the art department. "Thank you all for coming tonight, it is always a pleasure to see so many of you supporting our young talents. As you may know, tonight’s exhibition signs off our students’ final work for the semester, and will also see one of them receive a one-time collaboration with a renown art gallery in the city. Now, before the judges finish deliberating, let me tell you a bit about the topic of this exhibition which, by the way, serves as the main criteria for this contest. Our artists were asked to work around audience engagement and crowd reaction. The task was to produce art that would prompt an active response from the viewer and go beyond a passive experience. I hope this info helps this event take all its sense, I’ll let you all meander for a couple more minutes before we announce the winner. Thank you for your presence."

Since she has a couple more of minutes, y/n decides to take advantage of the fresh insight she was just given about the artwork and goes around the exhibition one more time. The whole thing does take on a new meaning, now that she knows what was going one in the students’ mind as they first got their assignment. But what has her in awe really, is El Patrón’s coup de maître in all of this, because unlike any other applicant here tonight, he’s had the strongest reactions from the public for months now and had even documented it. So really, in a way he’s already won, no bias to blame. The amount of work and planning behind such a tour de force surely has exceeded everyone’s expectations and secured the number-one position for the still-to-be-revealed artist. In the pocket, as they say.

"Alright everyone, without further ado we are going to announce the lucky talent selected by the judges tonight," the head of department speaks up again. "On behalf of the whole department, I would like to salute each and every one of the students that presented their work tonight. Skills are certainly not scarce among you all, and as always it gives me great pleasure to see you all grow into yourselves alongside your craft. As you know, there can only be one of you coming up to this stage tonight and I must say, this semester has proved to be full of surprises. Never in my 26 years working here have I ever seen something of the sort, so ladies, gentleman, I have no idea who is about to join me now, but please give a warm round of applause for El Patrón!"

The room explodes in loud cheers as people clap their hands in honor of the mysterious artist. Y/n probably the loudest amongst them all, is still craning her neck in every possible directions trying to catch sight of anyone moving towards the stage. The standing ovation quickly fades into silence as everyone realizes nobody is coming to claim their prize. The usual hushing following any of El Patrón’s stunts is once again spreading across the room to match people’s incredulity at the situation. It was one thing to keep their identity a secret, as it was clearly a crucial condition for the plan to work, but now that it is all over and done, prize ready for the taking, it doesn’t make much sense.

"Mister El Patrón? I think you more than deserve to drop your mask and receive your prize," the host reiterates in hopes that the much awaited artist comes out of his lair, but he’s met with the same result. Perhaps he’s not here after all, or perhaps y/n was right to think he might not want to be found, but regardless a strong feeling of disappointment takes over a body. He won’t be coming, she knows. No matter how many times the host calls for him, he won’t be coming.

She lets out a long sign in frustration then, she really thought tonight was the tonight. But now that the evening is coming to its end, tears pearl at the corner of her eyes and she just wants to go home and forget all about El Patrón. Aren’t artists supposed to be dark and twisted anyway? Maybe she just dodges a bullet, she tries to make herself feel better, but no amount of sarcasm can save her from the painful pinch at her heart. As she comes to term with the fact she won’t get any more answers by staying (and possible ever), she decides it’s her cue to go.

On her way to the exit, her eyes fall upon Harry’s slightly hunched figure. He seems deep in his thoughts, eyes fixed towards the floor though he’s not looking at anything in particular. For some unknown reason, y/n is not irked by his presence like she usually is. He’s just lost a great career opportunity so his preoccupied disposition is understandable. Feeling as though she needs to end the night on a different note - whether positive is yet to be determined - she approaches him slowly as not to startle him. "Your painting is really good. I’m sorry you didn’t win, but you should still be proud," she softly tells him to cheer him up. At least, one of them might get to go home in higher spirits.

He looks up at her then, curls bouncing on top of his head, as he aligns his two glistening emeralds to her own gems. He seems quite surprised to hear her voice, probably rightfully so since he can count on one hand (scratch that, one finger) the number of times she’s actively sought him out for conversation. She can tell he’s debating whether to say something or not, as they keep their eyes locked. It’s probably the longest and only civil exchange they’ve ever had, and somehow it manages to soothe some of her sorrows.

Y/n likes this reflective side of him, she realizes. Not that she wishes him any torments (at least not tonight) but his quietness makes him look vulnerable in that beautifully human way for once. That’s twice he’s proven her wrong about the assumptions she had on him, tonight: first his talent, now his character; she doesn’t know what to make of it. Silently, she accepts the timid smile and light nod he offers her in gratitude, before making her way to out at last.

***

Two days after the night of the exhibition, y/n still has a hard time to let her grievance go. Her mood has yet to upgrade from crappy at best, and the fact that all the artwork has been removed from their previous spots is not helping much. Of course she knew they had been put down for the big night, but her heart still missed a beat when she went to the gym only to find the walls of the lobby bare of any craft that would liven up their otherwise dull and colorless structure. Just like her state of mind, she’d joked. And y/n is not one to throw pity parties, especially to herself; but then again, she’d never fallen under the charms of a faceless virtuoso because his art brought to life parts of her that she’d believed otherwise dormant, only to be metaphorically stood up at the end of the process. So really, what does she know anymore?

Now that she’s back at work, she revels in the constant effort she has to provide. The ever-growing list of task to complete gives her mind reprieve and focus, but she still hasn’t budged from her unusually distant and withdrawn self. Even harry’s own standoffishness hasn’t caught her attention; a week ago, his awkward demeanor would have flashed red flags all over her radar. An unfiltered narcissistic prick he could be, but y/n has never known him to be anything even resembling reserve; apart maybe from that one fate-less night not even 72 hours ago when she found him on the outskirts of the attention even though she knew full well that he is more of center kind of guy.

As they’re about to start closing, the awkwardness becomes more palpable by the second. They’ve skirted around it during the whole shift, the steady solicitation of customers enough to ignore the growing tension; but as the last of the patrons finally make their way out of the bar, an eery silence settles in their wake, making them both want to crawl out of their skin. Even the heavy-served drinks they’ve indulged in, despite the absence of their respective motives, hasn’t help assuage the strain between them. Instead, they start their usual routine in overrated silence, y/n in charge of the floor while he tends to the bar. Then before long, Harry bursts the uncomfortable bubble they’ve locked themselves in, voice void of its usual teasing tone, "so, what’s got you so grumpy?" he inquires.

"Please don’t start, Harry. I really can’t be bothered tonight," y/n sighs in response, failing to recognize the note of concern in his question and thinking she wouldn’t survive another bickering session. It hasn’t been the lad’s intention though, so her false accusation has his thick skin itching against his will. To be honest, Harry’s never taken much offense from any of their past squabbles no matter how hard she’d come at him, but this one he can’t brush off. Not when for once, he’s trying to be decent, dropping the attitude he knows rubs her the wrong way and she responds by telling him to get lost.

"Fuck sake, I wasn’t tryin’ to start anythin’" he berates her for lashing out unjustifiably, "you need to take a chill pill." The hostile reaction as her pausing mid-swipe in the middle of the room. He was always so unbothered by everything she said, she hasn’t expected him to be so hard on the defensive (or even know what a defensive is in the first place).

Still, she doesn’t appreciate the same chastising tactic he’s used on her countless times, especially because given his serious temper, she knows he means it for real now. "Oh I’m sorry Harry, I didn’t know what sympathy actually sounds like coming from your mouth," she quips back in sarcasm.

The response makes him livid, "you tell me I’m a jerk every chance you got, but you sure know how to be a bitch, y/n" he spats before finishing wiping the counter. As his hand reaches the end of the surface, he finds his half-empty glass of tequila, most of the ice completely melted through the amber liquor by now. He takes one long sip in a vain attempt to calm his nerves but the alcohol merely tingles the back of his palate and warms its way down his stomach. His mind is still burden with frustrations he doesn’t know how to alleviate; the end of term, the exhibition, his career’s future, and y/n’s stubborn nature all wreaking havoc in his tired brain.

"Shut the fuck up, Harry. I didn’t ask for your attention," y/n retorts, trying not to expose how bruised her heart is. While he’d mocked her plenty during the past two years, he’d never resorted to calling her names, unlike her; so the insult does more damage than she’s willing to admit, even coming from Harry. And to think she’d thought of him as a half decent being not three days ago…

"Right, I forgot only anonymous bastards are worthy enough of your attention," he replies before checking the shelves behind the bar to make sure they’re stocked enough for the next shift. "And even when they turn out to be cowards, you still choose them over the people that are actually around you. You need to open your eyes and wake up, it’s pathetic."

Y/n has almost finished cleaning her area but at this point, she’s ready to call it quits and run as fast as she can, away from him. "Go fuck yourself, you don’t know anything you’re talking about," she manages to croak past her swelling throat and quivering lips. The man in front of her is breaking her heart even though he’s never had it in his calloused hands, and y/n doesn’t know why.

"Fuck this, ’m done," he quite literally throws in the towel, leaving it in a bowl on the counter before making his way back to his drink. In a swift movement, he grabs the bottle of tequila to pour himself a new one. "You keep blindly mopin’ about your precious painter, I don’t care, you’re probably right anyway," he says before chugging the bitter spirit in one go and slamming the bottle of tequila down on the counter in a loud bang that has y/n jump in fear. "I don’t anything about bloody anything," is all Harry says as he locks eyes with hers, before making his out of the bar, not bothering to put the bottle back to its rightful place.

Y/n is still trembling from the exchange, and it takes her a hot minute before she can finish what she was doing. As she resumes wiping the floor with shaky hands, she tries to even her breath out. Why had he been so hurtful? What could have possibly impelled him to utter such malicious words? The questions are still reeling in her mind as she twists water out of the mop for the last time. Once the floor is spotless and all the tables are no longer sticky with spilled alcohol, chairs stacked up onto them upside-down, she makes her way back behind the bar, checking that Harry didn’t leave any of his duties unattended before his theatrical exit. She spots the bottle of tequila sitting lonely on the counter but just as she goes to reach for it, she freezes.

It’s a cold shower pouring over her body all at once then, dots finally connected as her eyes read over the label of the fat bottle she’s seen him take out of the stack countless times before. Everything that happened for the last few months falls into place and suddenly there is no mystery left to be solved. ‘You’re probably right, I don’t know anything about bloody anything’ Harry’s final words keep playing on a maddening loop in her head.

Y/n takes in the small bee design printed under what is unmistakably the last piece of the puzzle she’s been craving to complete: one word that has her stomach churning in a myriad of emotions she can’t possibly untangle. Anger, relief, surprise, fear, curiosity, warmth and more, are all rushing through her in one colossal wave, because printed on that bottle in black capital letters is the brand of Harry’s favorite drink: Patrón.

***

The next day, y/n navigates through her classes purely on autopilot mode. She doesn’t quite remember picking the floral blouse nor the light-shade pair of jeans she’s wearing, and barely recalls the brief conversation she had with an old lady during her bus commute to campus. One thing she sure as hell hasn’t paid one iota of attention to, is the behavioral psychology class she’s just got out of. Two hours she spent pacing up and down every twist and turn of her mind only to come out more lost than she’d started. Add to that the fact she’s running on 4 hours of sleep, she’s quite simply a recipe for disaster. Fortunately for y/n, she isn’t due at work tonight, having called sick this morning, because sleep-deprivation aside, she still has no idea how she’s supposed to face Harry.

The revelation of the night prior is still something she has trouble wrapping her mind around, as it goes against every constructed opinion she’s made about her life. Harry is Patrón, she’s pretty sure. Harry, the allegedly conceited asshole she’s been bickering with since their first minute spent together, is the mind-blowing painter that had taken residence in y/n’s heart since the first time she set eyes on his art. The two characters have yet to fully merge into one in her mind, despite the fact it makes perfect sense to her.

The Brighton painting, the one inspiring her necklace, it was all true. And with that revelation comes two intimidating truths y/n is kind of scared to delve into: one, all this time she’s been right to think she is the muse behind this all scheme; two, if Harry is the mystery painter, that makes her Harry’s muse more specifically. And that’s the part of the equation she struggles the most with, because up until last night she was pretty positive that the twat despised her (the night in itself being prime evidence of that) but now she doesn’t know what to think.

It’s like there are two versions of Harry battling in her brain, splitting her heart in halves; the one that made her miserable at work for years and made her cry last night, and the one she’d gotten a glimpse of at the night of the exhibition. The one that hid a fully blossomed bouquet of emotions behind teasing banter to protect a diamond-rough talent that had the power to touch just about anyone’s sensibility. The one that had her wrapped around his finger in awe with that beautiful mind of his. The question is, can she or will she see this Harry the next time she’s facing him or will all their bad-blood history come crashing down on her instead? Y/n doesn’t think she’s ever fit more the definition of having mixed feelings about something.

On her way home, she makes sure she doesn’t fall asleep against the bus window, despite yawning every thirty-seconds. It feels like the trip is taking forever, she almost lets out a cry of relief when the automated voice finally announces her upcoming stop. Once she’s thanked the driver and stepped out of the bus, she’s met with a gust of brisk air, instantly blowing her hair all over her face. She draws the lapels of her coat tighter around her shivering body and starts making her way towards her apartment building.

It doesn’t take her long to complete the walking distance to her place and tread her way up the stairs, but the sight greeting her in the hallway of her floor almost sends her down on her ass. Because right across from her door, is Harry hanging yet another one of his chefs-d’oeuvre. He’s dressed casually in his usual jeans and t-shirt ensemble, with a thick grey hoodie covering his broad upper-half in a feeble attempt to combat to cold weather raging outside. As he reaches in the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a sharpie - no doubt to apply his trademark signature - the movements of her feet on the laminated floor catch his attention. Spinning around in a jolt of surprise, he realizes too late that he’s been caught red-handed. There was no going back this time, but he doesn’t necessarily see it as a bad thing.

There is a short moment where they are both just standing in front of each other a few feet apart, as their eyes bounce back in silent conversation, before y/n softly breaths out, "so it is you." The weight of her words has him swallow in nervousness, "of course it’s me," he replies in a gentle tone. A smile pulls at his lips when he realizes she’s not running for the hills or bursting out in a furious rant.

"I just…how? why? I mean, you gotta help me understand Harry, cause I’m pretty fucking lost over here," she blurts out with wide doe-eyes begging him for answers. Her obvious jitters earn her a soft chuckle., and for a hot minute all he can bring himself to do is study her snuggled figure and the way she keeps fiddling with her keys. It’s so endearing to him, if they were at his place, he would have offered to make some tea. The thought has him hesitantly looking at the door across from them, "can we maybe talk inside?" he inquires, beckoning his head towards her place. "I know I haven’t given you much reasons to let me in, but I promise I’ll explain everythin’," he feels the need to convince her, " after that, you can kick me out if you still want."

The last bit has her smile timidly, "yeah, let’s go inside. I wanna hear what you have to say," y/n admits as she steps to the door and unlocks it. She’s intrigued by how gentle and well-mannered the man following her to the living room seems to be, light years away from the rowdy lad she’s come to know.

For a second, y/n is worries about the state she’s left the apartment before she rushed to classes this morning, but her apprehensions quickly go away once she takes in the sight of her rather tidied living space. A velvety throw blanket is covering the couch in a makeshift comforter from the way she spent the night on the couch, and apart from a few class notes scattered across the coffee table, everything seems to be where it’s supposed to be.

They both discard their top layers on the armchair adjacent to the couch, Harry slipping his hoodie off above his head in one swift gesture, while y/n simply lets the sleeves of her coat slide down her arms. He brushes his hair back into submission with one swoop of his hand, before sitting down on the couch and directing his attention back at her. She decides to leave some distance between them, taking the other end of the sofa and the move desperately makes him wonder what thoughts are running through her head. The only way to uncover them however, is if he starts talking first; and so he does.

"So uhm," he starts clumsily, clearing his throat, "remember the first day we met, you walked in on me telling some stoner guy off," he watches closely as y/n nods. "It was our first ever conversation and we fought through the whole thing. I was pretty pissed when it happened, not gonna lie, but once I got home and slept it off, I thought it was really cool how you’d stand up for that random guy." The admission has her eyebrows raising but he keeps going, "and okay maybe, just maybe, I found it a lil hot, the way you tried to put me back in my place."

He stops to make sure he hasn’t offended her, "tried to?" she challenges instead, Harry laughing at her objection.

"Right, maybe you did. My poin’ is, no-one really calls me out on my bullshit, so it was kinda refreshing that you did. But then the next day, you were still mad at me, an’ we bickered that time too. It felt like you’d already made up your mind about me. So in a way, all I had left was doin’ this thing where I push your buttons and rile you up. Know it doesn’t make sense, but it was the only way you’d interact with me so I kept doin’ it, because being jerk-Harry was better than having nothin’."

He pauses for a minute and waits as y/n swallows all the information. All this time he’s been teasing her just to have some sort of connection, no matter how perverse, while she thought he just hated her guts. When she shares this thought with him, he shakes his head with a smile, "never hated you. If I ‘ad, I wouldn’t have bothered talking t’you."

Suddenly, her chest feels lighter, as though all this months of anguish had evaporated from her mind, now that she knew their rocky relationship was the result of miscommunication, "sound logic, Styles," she replies in good humor. Then she remembers the El Patrón’s fiasco so she urges him to go on.

"My final. Right. Well as you know, we were given the assignment at the beginning of the semester, and I came up with the idea of creating this alter ego that would plant his work around campus. I thought by taking people’s by surprise I was guaranteed strong genuine reactions. People are always more opened when they don’t expect it. Like if I had just brought my paintings on the night of the exhibition, the same people wouldn’t have reacted that way, probably because they’d know they’d be observed so they would have adjusted their behavior accordingly." They both know he’s getting slightly off trail, but watching y/n so enthralled with his words makes it hard for him to stop. Fact is, for month she’s dreamed of meeting and picking at the brain of this mysterious painter, and now that he’s sitting on her couch, walking her through his thought process, she finally feels like she is.

"Anyway," he resumes the storytelling, "I started with that painting in the library and it worked so perfectly, I knew if I followed the plan I would have somethin’ really good. But then you just had to go on an’ rave about the paintings without knowing they were mine, and it was killin’ me inside. Because I knew if there was a real chance I could change your mind about me, I’d do anythin’. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t jeopardize my final… so I tried to tell you through the art. I started painting stuff that made me think of you and placed the pieces in locations I knew you’d pass through. It was the only way I could tell you."

Harry’s confession had Y/n’s heart beating so hard in her chest, she can almost feel it thumping through her ears. Her next question is on the edge of her lips, but she takes her time tracing each of Harry’s graceful features until his eyes catch hers, "tell me what, Harry?" she asks barely above a whisper.

His response comes in three bashful steps: first his lips curve into a shy grin that has him look down with rosy cheeks; then his hand inches its way along the soft fabric of the couch to gently hold her fingers, thumb grazing over her knuckles; and as he looks up from their joined hands to connect their gaze once more, he finally spells it, loud and clear, "tell you that I like you, y/n."

The sentiment sends her own emotions reeling in a tornado of passion. This is it, this is what she’s been half-knowingly wishing for, and now that she knows the truth in full, she’s ready to embrace it. Her eyes twinkle in bliss, a growing smile illuminating her face as she squeezes his hand in a silent invitation to slide closer to her. Harry is much happy to oblige, and once he’s sitting directly next to her, knees grazing her own, he cups her face with one of his bear-paw hands. A few strands of hair are caught in the cuddling gesture, but none of them care. Harry just keeps smiling at her, waiting for her next move, and his beam grows two sizes wide when she mirrors his affection. "I like this side of you," she whispers fondly, as her thumb draws slow circles across the skin of his cheeks.

Harry closes his eyes at her words, "this is the real me, I promise," he reassures in an almost pleading tone, vulnerability seeping through. And y/n feels like she’s lying down on cloud nine really, because dropping his fortress of pretentiousness is all she’s ever want from him. With a hushed ‘okay’, she finally brings her mouth to taste the rose-tinted flesh of his. It starts off chaste and slow, lips dovetailed in perfect symbioses like they are made to cohabit, but quickly the kiss heats up to a full on make out session. "Show me, then", y/n mutters out when they part for a breather.

Harry slowly nods his head, before helping her straddle his lap and y/n immediately brings both her hands to his neck once she settles her hips against his. The friction already had them deeply inhale, trying not to work themselves up too fast, but Harry doesn’t think he’ll have much self-control when it comes to y/n. Already he can feel his cock fattening up inside his brief, the tingling sensation making him roll his hips up into hers. Their lips are back in a sensual duel, tongues tentatively taking their turn to lick their way inside the other’s mouth. Every now and then, he teases her bottom lip with a graze of his teeth, and the move as her tugging the root of his hair at the back of his head every single time without a fail.

He loves discovering all the quirks and tells of her body, thinks he could spend hours on hand learning every single one of her curves and memorizing each of her special spots. The smell of her fragrance infiltrates his nostrils as he dips his head to her neck to plant open-month kisses along her skin. Head angled towards the ceiling to make room for his ministrations, y/n can’t do much but let her hands scout any expanse of skin accessible to her. She starts at his shoulder, squeezing the flesh to feel out the strong muscle laying underneath, before making her way down his tone arms, then to his hands currently holding onto to her waist. She gives them an affectionate pinch at the same time she presses down onto him with a deep moan, and Harry retaliates with a buck of his own.

As he starts kissing down the exposed skin of her cleavage, y/n finally drops her head to place a tender kiss to his hairline. One of her hand is back at his neck, holding him firmly to her chest as he licks at the valley of her breasts down her sternum. The other worms its way underneath his shirt from the neckline, nails grazing down his back in soft enough pressure not to leave any marks.

Harry’s descent is obstructed by the soft material of her blouse, so he takes the garment off of her in one swoop, and places his hands back on her newly exposed body, rubbing up and own the skin. As his mouth goes back to the supple flesh of her breasts, y/n increases the pace of her hips grinding on his cock. The sensations seem to be not enough and too much at the same time for her; the heavy material still covering their most sensitive parts in the way of her pleasure, while Harry’s work has her going into overdrive under his velveteen mouth and calloused fingers. She starts kissing her way up from his shoulder to the edge of his jaw, and Harry revels in the sound of her moans tickling his ear.

Done with the excess of fabric between them two, y/n grips at the top of his shirt and pulls it upwards, leaving him shirtless. "Fuck, I didn’t know you have so many tattoos," she babbles against his lips, while her hands smooth over the ink.

"Plenty you don’t know about me, love," Harry chirps as he bask in the praise and the feeling of her skin of his.

He then circles one arm around her waist to bring them chest to chest, and the contact has y/n once again intensify the friction between their crotches. "Wanna find out," she murmurs against his neck while she grinds on his clothed member, "Harry, please take me to bed."

He jolts at the quick bite she delivers to his neck, the impish gesture her way of saying ‘now’ but before she can make her way out of his lap to bring him to her room, he presses her back down with both hands on her waist. "Nuh uh, y’not goin’ anywhere. Want you to come once, b’fore I take you to bed, pet," he says, smoothing his hands over her ass to guide her rocking motions. The term of endearment sounds so innocent yet dirty all at once, it sends a chill down her spine. Nobody had called her that before.

"Can’t," she shakes her head, "can’t feel you through the jeans."

"Alright then, stand up," he calmly asserts and she doesn’t hesitate to comply, standing in between his spread legs, in her flimsy bra and jeans. "Take ‘em off then, ’s what you want no?" he sends her a tantalizing look and bites at his lips as he watches her peel the pants off her legs. He can’t help the light squeeze he gives himself through his own jeans, as y/n stands in front of him awaiting his next instructions. "Come sit on my thigh now, think should be enough to make this pretty pussy tingle in all the right places, no?"

Y/n’s insides are already twisting in a knot as she settles back on his lap and lets the rough material of his jeans against the softness of her cotton panties spread a prickling sensation through her pelvis area. Quickly, she resumes undulating her hips, gripping back at Harry’s neck to pull him in a languid kiss, pleasure vibrating against their lips. It is not long before her pace picks up, and her eyes shut at the intensity of her bliss. "That’s it, pet. Already makin’ a mess of me. You’re doin’ so well," he coaxes her with his words.

As promised, y/n feels the lips of her sensitivity start to throb at her impending release, the sensation making her clamp her thighs tighter around his meaty limb. As her knee now presses against his bulge, Harry cries his sudden pleasure out in her mouth, and that’s all it takes for her to let her orgasm consume her. She unravels on top of him, one of her hands shooting to cup at her pussy in an attempt to quell the overwhelming throb. Harry draws soothing caresses down her back as he look at the sticky mess she’s left in her panties, damp patch matching the one tainting the material of his jeans. "All ruined, just as they should be," he smirks at the sight before giving her a sweet kiss.

Flushed skin and blown pupils, she slowly regains her breath, "take off your pants and take me to bed now?" she requests.

"You’re quite demanding for someone who’s just gotten off," he keeps taunting her. After all, winding her up has always been one of his favorite thing to do, and dare he say in the past two years, he’s gotten quite good at pushing her buttons. Now he’s got new ones to figure out and play with, the thoughts has him pulsing in his jeans.

Y/n doesn’t relent in her advances, she’s never been one to bow at his mockery, "thought you like how bossy I could be. Something about the way I put you in your place, if my memory serves right."

"Anytime, anywhere, you’re the boss of me, love. But this," he cups at her cunt, adding pressure on her clit, "this is mine to have. Understood?"

Y/n’s about to combust from all the desire firing up every one of her nerve-endings. His words might be the strongest aphrodisiac she’s ever experienced, she can’t wait to see what more tricks in has up his sleeves. "Now get up and show me the way to your room, pet," he softly commands before leaving a peck on her cheek.

They both get up from the couch, and y/n guides them both down the hallway to her room, her hand wrapped in his tightly. Once they’re standing by the bed, Harry is surprised to face a patient y/n, biting her lips and awaiting his next directive. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life, "undress me, love" he murmurs against her skin after kissing her forehead.

His jeans are quickly discarded but before his boxer briefs follow suit, y/n can’t help but tease him in reprisal, "looks like I’m not the only one who made a mess in their panties."

He lets out a boisterous laugh while she smears open mouth kisses along his stretching jaw, "mmm, I’d rather make a mess somewhere else," his innuendo causing her to gasp while he works the strap of her bra. Once she’s gotten rid of his last piece of clothing, his cock springs up, free of it’s confines, dollop of pre-come already pearling at his tip, and sticking to the skin of his stomach.

With a gentle grip at her hair, he has y/n’s head tilted backward, to let his mouth make its way towards her already pebbled nipples. Since she can’t look down, y/n blindly reaches out to wrap her hand around Harry’s thick shaft and starts massaging him in languid strokes. "Your hand feels so fuckin’ good around me, pet, I wanna fuck you so badly," he hisses around her nipple, before kissing his way back up to her lips.

He starts backing her towards the bed in small steps, but she brings a hand to his chest at the feeling of the edge of the mattress brushing against the back of her knee, "wait, wait, wanna taste you first," she insists and Harry doesn’t think he could ever say no to that face, no matter how much he wants to just sink home inside of her in this moment.

"Fuck, you’re killin’ me, love," he pinches at her waist and lays his forehead against hers, "you want my cock in your pretty mouth, before I drive it home in your cunt, is that it?" She nods, eyes turning into two lustful fireballs. "Okay, love, but y’ can’t keep it on your tongue fo’ too long, cause I really need to fuck you, alright?"

Y/n hastens to lower herself when he bids her "right then, on your knees and open wide fo’ me," and her brows furrow in confusion as she watches him stray from her spot. Picking up a plush cushion from her bed, he places it on the ground for her to knee upon, "there love, want you to be comfortable," he runs his fingers through her hair, and her heart grows three sizes bigger at how tender he can be in amidst his filthy ways.

Sensually, y/n brings her lips around the crown of his cock, her tongue teasing its way across the salty skin. Once she’s licked up all the previous mess, she starts working her way down his cock, hand stroking at the base. After bopping up and down a few time, she removes her month from his swelling cock, and lets a string of spit fall down onto its head and make its way to his balls. "S’right, pet. Get me wet," Harry rasps in appreciation. Now that she’s got him properly slicked, she goes back to pumping his hardening cock and takes him into her warm inviting mouth, determined to have him all the way inside. She feels her throat expands to accommodate his thickness, and the pressure makes Harry tighten his hold in her hair, "fuck, that’s it, love. Take me good."

Muscles already tensing up in preparation for his climax, when y/n’s hand finds his full and swollen balls to roll them together like dice, he is quick to calm her zeal, "Christ pet, you gotta stop before I can’t help myself," but his tone hardens when she defies his demand, "come on now, s’enough."

Once she pulls off, the sight of her flushed face and puffy lips induces an animalistic groan to come out from his chest, as he thumbs through the wetness coating her chin. Taking the hand resting on his hip to guide her up, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, the taste of his arousal blending in their mouths.

His hands come down to knead at the flash of her ass, before he scoops her up and on the bed with a quick flex of his biceps. "Harry, please," she whines in impatience, hands gripping at his sides to pull him down against her. His rock hard cock slides against her clothed pussy, pins and needles cruising along their skin and only fueling their eagerness.

"Need me in your belly, pet?" Harry keeps working her up, as he slides her soiled panties down her legs, "need me to fuck you so good, you forget I was ever a jerk?"

She’s putty in his hold, legs wrapping around his waist to feel the pressure of his member on her bare lips , "yes, yes, I wan’ it," she pleads.

Harry would love to tease her further, have her writhing and proper begging underneath him, but at this point it would be self-torture to even consider. Instead he pumps at his shaft to give himself some relief, their sex so close his knuckles graze at her clit every time his fist comes at the top. "You ready?" Harry utters softly while spreading and skimming her cleft with the head of his cock. It has y/n gripping at his hair, a series of delirious ‘yes’ tumbling form her mouth, so he doesn’t wait a second more to push his tip past her threshold and begins his descent in her warmth. "Fuck, t’feels so good. So wet, and tight, and warm," he thinks out loud once he’s stuffer her full, balls pressing against her ass.

Y/n whimpers against his lips, urging him to start moving to quell the building pressure coiling in her belly. A slow roll of his hips finally gives her reprieve causing her to moan in gratitude. She’s already so close, it baffles her how this man could have her coming apart at the seams without doing much. His thrusts starts gaining zeal then, betraying his own yearning to take the final leap. "So tight, love. Can feel you squeezin’ me, are you close already? Is my girl gonna cum fo’ me again?" he grunts in her ear while he pounds into her dripping cunt. Y/n doesn’t offer a response, too caught up in a daze of bliss, but her clenching muscles is all the answer he needs to start nudging his thumb at her clit. A several flicks across the sensitive bud later, her orgasm is pulsing through every bone and fiber of her body, walls hugging Harry’s cock so tight, it has to pause his hammering.

Waiting for her to catch her breath, he peppers delicate kisses along her cheek, "was that good, love? Think you can give me another, uhm?" he asks when she’s regained some of her senses. The pressure at his groin is growing more and more the longer his cock remains unmoving entombed within her vice, and the luscious agony must be written all over his face, "yes, Harry, wanna be good for you" y/n cups his jaw tenderly.

He nods at her approval, "good girl," delivers a sweet earnest kiss to her pouty lips as he pulls out and spins her around to lay on her stomach. His hand brushes the hair off her skin so he can sew a string of kisses at her shoulder blades and neck. Painfully red, his cock is propped between her buttcheeks, "can I take you like that?" he punctuates his inquiry by rolling his hips backward, tip lingering at her soaked entrance. Y/n clutches the sheets firmly, as she murmurs a faint ‘please’, back arching at the thrills consuming her mind.

Harry plunges in her wet core in one smooth swing, hand digging at her hip to keep her steady as the other one interlaces with hers to lay on the mattress above her head. Unforgiving lunges have y/n cinch around him, face buried in the sheets and muffling salacious wails of pleasure, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to steer from his end for much longer. He slows his cadence to steady and firm strokes, slipping a hand around her waist to polish her swell.

A million tremors spark off the onset of Y/n’s climax as she shudders in a firework of ecstasy. Harry doesn’t relent until he’s worked her through completion and can no longer stop the coil in his loins from snapping. His release fills her in several spurts of wet warmth before he flops down next to her, positively fucked out.

They both lay unmoving in comfortable bliss for a few minutes, before y/n plops her head on his chest and an arm around his torso, her leg sneaking in between his. "Well, here goes two years of sexual tension," Harry says jokingly, fingers drawing abstracts design on the skin of her back. It might just be his favorite canvas to paint on from now, he muses before chastising himself at the onslaught of filthy thoughts tagging along. A playful slap on his abdomen takes his mind out of the gutter, "don’t ruin the moment," y/n says in fake admonition before placing a tender kiss on the spot she just abused.

"M’sorry, love. M’just really chuffed to be in your bed finally," the last word reminding her that while she’s struggled to come to term with her feelings for him, ransacking her mind for a possible change of heart, he’d only seen her in but one light. The revelation still has her floored and giddy, "can I ask you something?" she asks as there was still one question pacing back and forth the pathways of her mind. Harry hums in acquiescence, "anythin’ love, by brain is yours."

She feels his hand cradling her skull followed by a small peck to her forehead, and she smiles at the gesture, "why did you stay away that night at the exhibition when you got the prize? Why not coming forward?" It’s been bugging her brain since it happened. Although she didn’t have much insight on anything at the time, most of the pieces of the puzzle fell in place after the big reveal; but this, she still can’t make sense of.

Harry lets out a long breath, organizing his thoughts, "two reasons," he starts off tiredly. "One, I kinda like having this secret business going on, and like, as long as nobody knows, I am in control of how and when it happens, you know? And the moment I let go of that, I can’t go back." He searches her face for any hint of confusion but she’s just patiently listening. "Two, when we bumped into each other at the gala, I got convinced you’d never see me differently regardless of how good a painter I was; and that had become a big part of who El Patrón was."

It’s the first time she hears his alter ego’s name from his mouth and with how flowingly natural it sounded coming out of his lips, y/n suspects that it’d been a conscious decision on his part. She recalls their interaction that night, the way they fell in their usual ways of ping-ponging vindictive words until one of them has enough and leaves the premises (usually y/n). A lump starts forming in her throat at the recollection of all the other fights they’ve had and how they’d all been pointless wastes of time and energy, now that she knows she is meant to be in his arms. She wishes things could have been different but the warmth of his body around her overweighs her regrets. They’re here now, looking bright toward the future, and it’s all that matters.

"I’ll keep your secret if you want, be the Lilly to your Hannah Montana," she tells him lightly before they both laugh at the silly reference.

Happiness and glee has Harry tightening his hold around her shoulder, "nah, I don’t wanna play double-agents anymore. I wanna be the guy who gets the girl." He dips his head to catch her lips between his own, reveling in their newfound intimacy. Turning her face against his chest, Y/n impresses her bashful smile on his swallow-tattooed skin, before she lays a trail of pecks tickling the area underneath his armpits, "well, you got me now."

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #Harry fic #enemies to lovers #angst #so much angst #smut #I didn't think I could be this filthy lol #uni au #artstudent!harry #art #harry fanfic #harry styles writing #reader insert #harry styles au

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winryofresembool · 3 years

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 38

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: A new semester is starting

A/N: We are finally done with the holiday chapters! When it comes to this chapter, I'd like to state that I only have some experience from a couple of Finnish universities so I really don't know a whole lot about how certain things work in practice in the States, so please ignore the possible inaccuracies for the sake of this fic. It feels weird after a couple of 'bigger' chapters to have a bit more 'fillery' one... but... but... there's Caleo in the beginning?? So I hope you'll enjoy nevertheless. I wish I could spread even more love towards this ship because they deserve it but sadly there are only so few hours in a day. The fandom seems so quiet these days...

Anyway, enough rambling! Now let's get to this chapter, and the usual reminder: I love to hear what you think! All comments are much appreciated :)

Words: 2500+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

”Is something the matter? You look quite unhappy.”

Leo felt arms sneak around his shoulders from behind while he was sitting on the common area sofa, staring at his laptop with a frown. Some of the speaker’s reddish brown hair fell in front of his face, the smell of cinnamon drifting into his nose, and for some reason that alone was enough to relieve some of Leo’s uneasiness. The small, pale hands found their way down his biceps and stopped there, but he wasn’t going to complain. If he was honest, he was really happy about Calypso’s growing confidence when it came to the physical affection, because it told him she really trusted him. Sometimes he was still amazed that he out of all the people had managed to break the ice around her.

Before Leo let himself get too lovestruck, though, he reminded himself why he was staring at his laptop in the first place. The new semester was starting and that naturally meant new courses, new assignments, new texts to read and… new emails from his professors. One specific email had managed to twist his stomach quite badly. In it, the professor from his chemistry lab class had asked him for a meeting, and Leo assumed he wanted to discuss what had happened on the exam day. Wishing that he could just ignore that said message, he turned his attention back to his girlfriend.

“Just uni issues… nothing more severe this time,” Leo replied half jokingly. The holidays had given him some perspective on what really was important to him and failing a class didn’t feel quite as big an issue anymore. It was inconvenient, yes, on a few levels, but not entirely unfixable.

“Oh?” Calypso finally let her hands slide off of him and sat down next to him. She seemed a bit relieved that this was about the university and not something that was out of her reach, and if Leo was honest, he couldn’t blame her. “What kind of issues?”

“A professor wants to meet me face to face tomorrow. Probably to talk about my recent chemistry lab test or something like that.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Hmm… Isn’t it quite unusual for them to give special focus to a single student at this stage?” Calypso asked.

“Apparently they still do that in my department. Who knows, maybe they think I’ve caused them enough trouble by now and want me to quit.”

“But what happened in your lab test was not your fault. Do you think you are any closer to being able to finish it in case you get another chance?”

When Calypso was looking at him with those almost chocolate brown eyes, he felt that it wasn’t impossible.

“Some smart person once said that I need to believe in myself more, so that’s what I need to learn to do. After that… it might be possible.”

“I’m glad you’re listening to me at least sometimes.” Calypso gave him a lopsided smile. “The fact that you know what you should do means that you’re already on your way there.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Wanting to talk about something else, Leo asked: “Well, what about you? How are you feeling about the upcoming semester?”

“I’m feeling… pretty good about it, you know? Sure, I’ve been reading our course plans and it sounds like our professors are planning to make us work like every day is an exam day and we have some group assignments and important presentations coming up, but… I really like learning? And I like listening to the conversations between our professors and my fellow students during our lectures because it’s something I never got to do when I was stuck at home… I feel like I get new points of views from them all the time. And Annabeth is a really big help; she knows everything about everything so if I ever feel like I can’t follow the lectures, she can always clarify them to me.”

“I have a hard time imagining you not being able to keep up with the professors… but yeah, it’s good you can ask for her help if needed.”

Calypso nodded.

“You know, I’m glad you two got your issues sorted out in the fall,” Leo added as an afterthought.

Calypso looked up at him with a slight frown as if she had completely forgotten about what exactly had happened in the fall. “Oh, right, that. I feel like it was just one big misunderstanding. Both of us realized that we can’t get stuck on something that happened so long ago.”

Leo couldn’t deny that he had also felt a bit jealous of Percy when he had first found out about his and Calypso’s past, but she had clearly moved on, so he wasn’t holding a grudge anymore either. Calypso had decided to date him, and that’s what mattered.

“Yeah, I know from my personal experiences that ain’t worth it,” he replied.

Calypso leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.

“I have a… maybe a bit weird question. Do you believe in some kind of greater power? You know, like gods?”

Leo wondered why she would ask that. “I dunno. Maybe. I’m not really strongly for or against that. I think I’m the kind of person who needs to see it to believe it, but I don’t think it’s impossible. But why do you ask?”

“This will sound extremely cheesy but sometimes I wonder… if there was a reason why we two met. Like some greater power that pushed us together for some reason.”

“Wow. I don’t know if any greater powers had their fingers in that but I am glad that it happened.” Leo threw his arm around her shoulder and wondered briefly why it felt like such a natural thing to do. At one point he had been too intimidated to initiate any kind of physical contact but now that they were more open with each other and she had seen him in some of his worse moments – he didn’t mind anymore.

“Yeah. Me too.” Calypso whispered.

Only the buzzing of the fridge and some other kitchen machinery could be heard on the background while the flatmates were simply enjoying each other’s company, resting their heads against each other, but eventually Calypso suggested:

“Hey... I think I need something that will allow me to disconnect a bit, so… how about some Friends?”

Leo didn’t have anything against that suggestion. In fact, he always enjoyed the TV show or movie nights with Calypso, for various reasons. “Sure. That sounds great to me. You know I’m always ready to roast my homeboy Chandler.”

“I know you are.” Calypso nudged him and took the remote control to find the right episode. As they started watching and commenting on it (he always enjoyed how snarky Calypso’s comments could be), Leo almost forgot about the upcoming meeting with the professor.

…

The next day, Leo found himself in the building where the office of his lab professor was located. At the breakfast table he had practiced the meeting with Calypso, and Jason had also joined him a bit later to wish him luck. To Leo’s relief, he did seem a lot happier than when he had seen him before the holiday break, but he still didn’t talk a whole lot about his current situation. Leo himself decided that it was better if he didn’t guide his friends too much so instead he did a quick recap on the recent developments in his own life – without mentioning his new relationship status. Luckily Jason didn’t ask, as he seemed to be more worried about Leo’s upcoming meeting.

As he was waiting for the professor to arrive, Leo kept glancing at his clock nervously. The man was already a few minutes late. While Leo knew that wasn’t anything unusual in the university world, as the professors tended to be busy, he still kept wishing he could get the meeting over with as soon as possible. His leg started bouncing again on its own and his fingers were tapping against the wooden handle of the chair. Suddenly he didn’t feel quite as sure about what he was going to tell the professor as he had felt earlier.

Finally, he was pulled from his thoughts by a loud ‘ahem’.

“Mr. Valdez? Sorry I’m late, my meeting with a couple of coworkers got a bit long,” the professor said.

“That’s… that’s fine,” Leo stuttered. Some months ago he would probably have said something snarky as a response but right now he knew better than to take any risks.

“Go in, go in, so we can have a talk,” the professor encouraged. Unwillingly, Leo followed him into his office and had to be told to sit down before he even realized that there was a comfortable looking arm chair right next to him.

“So…” the professor started once he was seated behind his desk. “You probably know why I invited you here.”

“I… I do have an idea…” Leo said hesitantly, looking everywhere in the room except the professor. The man had a lot of engineering related books in his bookshelf, a big stack of papers - probably students’ assignments - and a fancy looking calculator on his desk. Behind him on the wall there was a single photograph of his family. Pretty much exactly how Leo had imagined the said professor’s room looking.

“I will be direct with you. Your achievements in the lab classes - or lack thereof - is a cause of confusion for us. In almost all of the theory related classes, you are on the top of the class – despite the occasional reports that your behavior towards the lecturers could use some improvement.” The man raised his eyebrow, but Leo thought he could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. That didn’t last long, though. “However, until now we have been willing to overlook that because of your talents. Maths, physics, chemistry… those things you clearly don’t have any issues with. But already for the second year you have been avoiding the lab classes for which you have been signed up and last fall you even left the chemistry lab test before you managed to get it completed. I’m sure you are aware that if you want to move onto the more advanced classes, you need to complete the mandatory ones before you are allowed to do that.”

“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that,” Leo replied stiffly, wondering briefly when was the last time he had called anyone sir, other than ironically.

“In that case…” His voice turned less formal, more fatherly as he continued, which surprised Leo. The professors he was used to dealing with were usually not all too nice to him, although he was willing to admit that some of it was probably deserved. “Can I ask you, is there a specific reason why you haven’t attended the lab classes?”

Leo wondered if he should come up with a quick lie. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life that he would have to do that in order to protect himself. However, the professor really seemed sincere and concerned about him and in a way his expression reminded him of Jo’s when she was expecting him to open up. Perhaps that’s why he ended up deciding to answer honestly:

“Yes. There is.”

“And? What is the reason?” The professor raised his eyebrow.

Leo inhaled deeply before forming his response. “I’m afraid of fire. Yeah, laugh ahead, but it’s true. I can’t deal with anything that requires heating because of some nasty as hell childhood trauma.”

To his surprise, the professor didn’t get angry at him for talking to him in such a manner. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“And you’re still planning to make mechanical engineering your career? Despite your fear?”

Leo nodded slowly. “Yeah. Building and fixing inanimate objects is the only thing I’ve ever known how to do. I was basically born with a hammer and a wrench in my hands and I was capable of building toys for myself when I was like four. After an accident…” He refrained from mentioning his mother because he couldn’t guarantee he would be able to stay calm if he brought that up. “… I haven’t been able to light up a match or anything like that. But almost five years ago, two awesome women adopted me and one of them is a mechanic. She reminded me what I really love about tinkering and it was then that I decided that I wanna keep trying. It’s a process but I am working on it.”

The professor smiled a little. “You know… a lot of our students were unable to take the chemistry lab course in the fall, so we decided to organize another course now in the spring. As it happens, there’s still some room for new people in it. So, if you’re interested, you’re welcome. But remember, you would need to attend all the mandatory classes and complete the tasks that you are assigned, no exceptions. That means we will not be going easy on you just because of your fear.”

Leo’s eyes widened with surprise. He hadn’t expected to get a chance like that.

“Woah, thanks sir! I won’t let you down!”

“That’s good to hear,” the professor nodded approvingly. “Can I ask you a question, though? Why do you want to become a mechanical engineer? I mean, what exactly is it that fascinates you about it, other than the influences you have gotten at your home?”

Leo imagined that the professor could probably see the bolts and nuts moving in his brain as he formed his answer. “I… I wanna learn to develop products that will help us make the world a safer, more sustainable place for us. We engineers, if anyone, can develop technology that will help us achieve that goal. But that’s not all. I also wanna learn more so I can help to share the information forward. I wanna show kids who come from similar backgrounds as I that they should keep on dreaming. There was a time when my mom ate porridge - only porridge - for her meals so she could pay the rent when her business was slow, but she still kept doing it. Because that’s how much she cared about her job. And I want to continue in her footsteps.”

The professor shifted on his seat. “That is an admirable goal, Mr. Valdez. I hope you will succeed. Remember, you do have the skill – you just need to know how to use it.”

“Yeah… Thanks professor.”

“No problem. Don’t forget the class enrollments end tonight so you need to be fast if you want to participate. That’s all for now. Good luck in your future endeavors.”

“Thanks. I’ll go enroll myself then. Bye for now.”

“See you, Mr. Valdez.”

Leo breathed a long sigh of relief the moment he stepped out of the professor’s office. The meeting had gone way better than he had dared to expect. He hadn’t thought he would get another chance so fast, but was grateful for the opportunity. Now, he would only need to kick his fears into the deepest pits of Tartarus, as Calypso would say.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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irondadgroupie · 3 years

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I’ve been suffering from depression because of my no-future life and can’t help but project my feelings to Peter and life kicking him down. HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS. Do not read this if you are faint of heart. Deals with suicide.

Imagine Peter doesn’t get into MIT. Tony was certain he was a shoe-in, no doubt, he had a recommendation letter and the grades. So when he finds out about the rejection, he makes a very heated call to the admission committee and demands to know the reason. “Mr Stark, this year’s class is extremely talented. The competition was fiercer than ever. He can always reapply next year.” Tony immediately withdraws his donation to his alma mater but it is no use. As if rejection from MIT was not enough, Peter is also rejected from other schools he applied to. The boy is absolutely devastated, his social media is filled with his friends’ cheery posts and he falls into deep depression. “I worked so hard.” The boy whispers, after another day of staring at a wall. “I know you did, buddy.” Tony rubs his shoulder. He had taken time off work, he could not bear to leave Peter alone. “I aced all exams, I crushed SATs, I did all the projects, homework and I patrolled. All my life I’ve focused on school, it’s the only thing I was good at.” “You know that is not true.” “I’m a failure. I’ve wasted my life.” Ned, who got a full scholarship to Columbia, has to beg Peter to go to the prom with him, to make some memories. Four hours later, Tony gets a call from the same boy that Peter has passed out from drinking a bottle of vodka. Peter doesn’t want a graduation party. He just gets his diploma, takes the obligatory pictures and then locks himself into his room for the rest of the day, neverminding the lavish buffet Pepper has set up to celebrate. Team has a silent lunch. Peter sleeps a lot. He doesn’t go outside, doesn’t see his friends, stops patrolling and spends his days staring at a television. Tony calls his psychiatrist and Peter is called in for emergency evaluation and after two hours, he enters the Penthouse with a bottle of antidepressants. “These might make you feel a bit yucky.” Tony gives him a glass of water to wash the pills down with. “But it will clear out in about a week.” It takes about two months until they see any kind of improvement and by that time his friends have left for college. Tony hires him as his personal assistant to build up his resume but most importantly, to give him a purpose in life. And maybe the boy needed a bit of downtime after the hectic couple of years being Spiderman proved to be. Peter applies to MIT again. And is rejected. The shock is even greater this time. “I don’t get it.” The boy hyperventilates. “What did I do wrong? What am I missing? What do I lack?” MIT doesn’t have any more say in the matter, Tony can hear from their voice they are still irked of him withdrawing his money. Peter starts studying at a community college. He hates it from the first day. It’s not his place. Work is not challenging enough and the courses interest him very little. He doesn’t connect with the faculty who are all perplexed why the protege of Tony Stark is there. He drops out after a few months and makes a return as Tony’s PA. Third time’s the charm. Not this time, MIT is closed to him. “I’m done.” Peter tears the rejection letter, there are no tears in his eyes, no panic in his voice. Just emptiness. “I’m not gonna do this anymore.” “There are always other courses and schools.” “I learn more from working with you-” “You could at least get a diploma. It must be worth something.” He never thinks about the option more than fleetingly and ends up floating.He tries several jobs but nothing seems right. As Morgan grows up, Pepper starts thinking about getting Peter in on SI. Tony and her had always had the idea of letting Peter lead the company and eventually share it with Morgan. But the board resists. “He doesn’t have a college degree.” “So?” Tony attacks, thinking back to the dark days when he had to practically bribe the boy to eat something. “Degree is just a fancy paper.” “We can’t ensure someone like that to run this company.” “Excuse me but last time I checked I own lion’s share of this place! I make these decisions.” “You can’t walk over the board with this one, Stark. SI is a demanding company. Your father hired us to keep his legacy alive. I’m sure your boy is a nice young man, but he is not fit to run SI.” Tony breaks the news to Peter gently and the boy, no, a man, shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. “I knew that- or- I guessed it would happen. Parker luck. This year has been a shit show anyway.” Tony looks at his boy, thinking of the struggles Peter had faced during the last five months: May’s cancer diagnosis, Peter’s constant money problems, a patrol that had gone so bad the boy had spent two weeks at Medbay and still had to eat strong painkillers. “Morgan is having a birthday party next week.” “I don’t have money for a present.” “You don’t need-” “It’s her birthday, she deserves a present, okay.” Peter was always defensive when it came to his finances. Tony was always ready to help but Peter rarely asked for it. Peter only gave him a chance when the man visited and saw the empty fridge, or the pile notices on his table. “I’ve been reading a lot.” “About?” “Success stories. Some make it big without college degrees. Some don’t even graduate from high school. Why didn’t it happen to me? Why did I end up with a no-end job and still have count pennies? Is it a punishment for something I did?” “No. Peter- your time will come.” “When?” Peter asks, his eyes on his father-figure. “I’m done waiting.” If Tony wasn’t worried yet, he was when it was time to pay for the food. “I’ve got this.” Tony is ready to take out his walled. “No, I’m good.” “Kiddo, let me-” “I’m 31 years old, I can pay for my own fucking meal!” Peter slams the money on the table and gets up. “I was just trying to help.” Tony tried to smooth things over. “Well don’t! I don’t need your help! Go be with your daughter and leave me alone!” “I’m thinking of mental institution.” Tony muttered to Rhodey, softly so the other guests would not pay them too much attention. “Kind of like a rehab center, where he can rest and get intensive therapy.” “Sounds good. I remember it helped you a lot.” “Yeah.” Tony nods, thinking of the few weeks he spent gathering his thoughts after Civil War. “Kind of wish I had started therapy earlier. But letter late than never, right?” Rhodey looked around the room. “Wasn’t Peter supposed to come?” “He must be running late.” Tony shrugged. “Traffic.” Hours passed and still no Peter. “Kiddo, I’m serious. Call me back.” Tony left fifth voice mail and checked Peter’s whatsapp status: online 10:11. Almost seven hours ago. Dread filled his stomach. Something was wrong. Steve offered to drive him to Peter’s apartment. Tony clutched his phone like a lifeline.He debated calling 911 but what could he say. Peter was an adult, had the right to not answer and he was not in immediate danger... right? They walked to the fifth floor. Peter did not answer the doorbell. Please don’t be there, Tony was muttering under his breath and unlocked the door. “Peter?” Him and Steve stepped in. “Kiddo?” The apartment was silent. Tony looked around the kitchen. Table was filled with bills and a new letter. An eviction notice. Tony turned white. Peter had not mentioned anything. He turned around when Steve stepped back from Peter’s bedroom. His eyes were wide and teary. “What is it?” Tony knew before the man had the chance to tell. “Don’t go in there, Tony.” “What do you mean? I have to find him.” “We-” Steve stopped him. “We need to call someone. Peter’s-” Eventhough Tony had known, maybe from the time Peter had failed to answer the first call, his heart refused to believe it. “No.” He shook his head. “No...” “Don’t-” He tore himself from Steve’s hold and opened the door to the bedroom. The room was red. Peter laid on the bed, a gun in his hand and his head- Tony screamed like he never had before. It was a guttural, raw sound. He sank to his knees, eyes locked on what was left of his child. Steve supported him, one hand rubbing his arm while with his other he called the proper authorities, Tony’s anguished cries making it almost impossible to make out any other words on the other end.

#irondad #fanfic #tw: mental health #tw: suidice #tw: depression #irondad and spiderson

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mythrilhusk · 3 years

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Korosensei Never Dies - Chapter 6

Words - 1967 Ao3 Version Chapter 5 (last) Chapter 7 (Next)

AN: Just wanted to note (although it’s already in tags) that there are no ships in this story. The characters may be affectionate with each other, but it’s all platonic.

====

Exams are the worst part of school, but the end of the first term approaches fast. Tommy determines he will not fail. Philza has promised to teach them how to fight, and by the ever-loving stars, Tommy wants to show off his mad skillz.

He's so intent on getting fighting lessons that he's dragged his friends into group study sessions. Wilbur insists on leading said sessions, and somehow the schoolwork gets entwined with role-playing battles with fiercesome monsters.

"The answer is forty-two!! I pull out a bazooka and blast everything to smithereens!" Tubbo cackles. "Nothing shall stand in the way of world domination."

"Tubbo," Wilbur sighs for the fortieth time. "That would kill all of your teammates."

"Do I care?" Tubbo grins innocently. "Less competition, big man!"

"I lay down and die." Ranboo says drily, leaning against the wall with his arm around Tubbo's shoulders.

"Not you, Ranboo, you're going to be my puppet queen. Every world-dominating super-villain needs a puppet queen." Tubbo says, quite matter-of-fact.

Tommy scrawls messily on his workbook, determined to complete the next answer first and get a turn. "Ha! Fucking x equals twenty-nine!" He crows. "I shoot my nets at Tubbo and capture him!!"

"Stand-off." Wilbur says with a grin. "Who wrote Frankenstein?"

"Some woman with a boring name." Tommy retorts.

"Anne Rice!" Tubbo cries.

"Tommy, you got the closer answer. It was Mary Shelley."

"Alright, I win, and I say 'Hahaha, you fucking imbecile, you are no match for me!' and then I drag them to jail."

"I completed my worksheet, Wilbur." Eret pipes up. Wilbur takes it, then nods for Eret to complete his bonus action. "I stab Tommy and release Tubbo, saying, 'The world is yours for the taking, but allow me to oversee a portion of it.' and then I kneel and plant my sword in the dust."

"Oh! Oh!" Tubbo waves his worksheet in the air. "Ranboo, stab him for me!"

"As you wish." Ranboo sighs with a wicked grin. Eret protests weakly in the background.

"Ranboo, you need to answer a question correctly, first." Wilbur steeples his fingers. "Or else there will be penalties."

"I, uh, I think I got this one correct." Ranboo shows his study sheet to Wilbur, who nods curtly.

"Fine, go ahead."

Ranboo turns to Eret and says in a dark tone, "You betrayed your friend. I can't trust you, Eret." Then he turns to Wilbur, "I run him through with my dagger."

"Eret, you're now a ghost." Wilbur shuffles through his game notes.

"Aw, man. Can I haunt anyone?"

"Yes."

"I haunt Ranboo to remind him of his crimes."

"Aw, dang, another voice." Ranboo groans playfully.

"Whaddya mean, another??" Tubbo cries. "Am I being replaced, Ranboo??"

"You- you are the voice." Ranboo laughs nervously. "Even when you're dead, I'll still hear you, shouting at me to not kill the bees."

"You better not. I worked hard to cultivate our apiary."

"I won't, I won't."

Tommy finishes his worksheet, ignoring the chatter of the others. "Ha!" He turns it into a paper plane and throws it to Wilbur. "I want twelve actions now!"

"Okay, Tommy." Wilbur replies with a sly smile. The others protest, but Tommy has Wilbur wrapped around his little finger, so they won't be winning this battle.

"But! I want to split them up between us, because I'm a fucking nice person who loves women."

"Go ahead."

"My first action as King de facto of the world is to declare peace between the Moon and Mars."

"Wait, wait, you're king?? Eret, you didn't even kill him properly!!" Tubbo throws up his hands. "Ranboo, kill Tommy for me."

"Hypothetically, what if I didn't?"

"Ranboo. Are you betraying me??"

"No, no, I said hypothetically."

"Then, hypothetically, I would nuke your entire homeland and make you watch as I killed your family before your very eyes."

"Oh! Oh, no."

"And then I would torture you to death."

"Oh, man. That would not be good."

"So are you going to betray me?"

"Apparently not."

"Aw, man. I wanted to torture somebody." Tubbo sighs.

Ranboo gives Tommy a look that says 'help me'.

"You both lost your turns for talking too long." Wilbur decides. "Tommy and Eret, you both have an extra turn."

"I turn corporeal using necromancy, and I use Tubbo's soul as the energy source, draining him of life." Eret says, his cheerful eyes belying his dark tone.

"No! Ranboo, avenge meeeee!!" Tubbo cries melodramatically to the heavens.

"Oh no! I'll avenge you!!"

"I kill Ranboo." Tommy cackles at the horrified look on Ranboo's face.

"Oh, that's not good."

"How do you kill him, Tommy?" Wilbur asks.

"I stab the bastard through the fucking eyes."

"Oh. Man. That sounds painful." Ranboo winces.

"It is. You're screaming like a fucking bitch."

"Am I? Oh dang, that's not fun. Am I a ghost now?"

"Ghostboo." Tubbo laughs. "You're now Ghostboo."

"You're Toast, you don't get to mock my name."

Tommy frowns. "What's my ghost name?"

"Ghommy." Ranboo laughs. "Eret is Gheret."

"Tommy, you think we're ready for the exams?" Wilbur gathers the papers scattered across the floor.

"Fuck yeah, we are. We'll crush those bastards to dust. We'll get the highest grades of anybody in the entire school!"

++++

"What do you mean, you can't transfer me?? My grades are the worst they've ever been in years!!" Jack cries, stomping his foot on the polished wood floor of the principal's office.

"I'm sorry, duckie, but I can't let anyone transfer between classes this year." Puffy-- rumored to be a pirate in a past life and therefore always called Captain-- frowns as she flicks through Jack's portfolio. "Why did you want to be transferred, anyway?"

"No reason." Jack grumbles, then stomps out of the office, slamming the door behind himself.

"How'd it go?" Niki hops down from one of the pillars.

"Terribly. Those bastards in 3-E must've told Captain Puffy to not let anyone in. They're probably planning to take over the world now, using Techno as bait!" Jack cries, his eyes burning with furious tears.

"That's awful!" Niki wails. "What will we do?"

"What do heroes do to villains? We bomb them."

"Bomb them?"

"I don't know how yet." Jack grins, filled with burning rage. "But we'll think of something."

"I know a man." Niki says decisively. "He'll get us supplies. If they really are planning to end the world, we need to stop them."

++++

Exams roll around, and 3-E joins the the main school buildings for the tests. Quackity and Sapnap both leap on and hug Karl Jacobs. Tommy strides through the testing auditorium like he owns the place, with Wilbur glaring at everyone and Tubbo whetting his dagger with a placid smile.

Fundy watches the chaos from the sidelines, chewing on caramel taffy and bubblegum at the same time. He doesn't recognize the quiet boy huddled in a corner and writing. Before he can creep over and look at the boy's words, Eret accosts him. "Hey, man."

"Oh, hey!" Fundy grins and hugs his friend. "What've you been up to?"

"Oh, just trying to stop the world from ending and make a profit in the process, you know, the usual."

"Right, right. What's up with that, anyway? This guy, Technoblade? He must be really hard to kill if nobody's done it yet."

"We have till the year ends." Eret says gravely.

"Right. But why hasn't anybody, I don't know, tried to get in on the action?"

"The government is supposed to be keeping his location a secret." Eret adjusts his sunglasses.

"Weird." Fundy pops a bubble between his lips.

"Indeed. I know there must be a weakness. But I'm not sure what it is."

"Maybe it's something like technical immortality! Maybe he can only be killed if he lets it happen!" Fundy theorizes, chewing more intensely.

Eret grimaces. "Perhaps. Threatening his friend, Philza, directly is out of the question. But perhaps we can get the kill switch from the president."

"Woah, woah, back up!" Fundy laughs. "There's already a kill switch in his friend and the prezz hasn't thought to use that??"

"Well, he's a hostage, but- oh."

"Exactly!! If the prezz actually wanted him dead, all they'd have to do is threaten to kill this Philza dude if Techno doesn't let himself be killed!" Fundy blows another bubble and pops it with his teeth. "Damn, I'm good."

"That's assuming Technoblade would die if he allowed it. What if he can't?" Eret muses.

"He has to have some weakness. How was he even created??"

"I- I don't know."

"The only way a mutant like that could be created is through Human intervention, aka a laboratory and scientists!!" Fundy claps his hands together excitedly. "But why would scientists create a creature who can destroy the world?? Unless he can't, and this is all just a damn test."

"Hmm." Eret doesn't sound convinced.

"So, they're trying to develop immortality, and they're testing it on Technoblade-"

"Why him?" Eret asks. "And if it is a test, why here, with a bunch of students?"

"He got loose before the tests could be finalized, and they're trying to contain him again!" Fundy starts pacing. "He was a terrorist, yeah? I remember him in the news. The Acolyte."

"Blood for the blood god." Eret reminisces, paling. "That's right."

"He only ever went after important government figures! But, five years ago, he disappeared, and nobody ever heard from him again. Until now..." Fundy grins wildly. "This is amazing, I can't believe I get front row seats to a conspiracy!"

"Wait." Eret groans. "He had a partner."

"Oh! He did?"

"Technoblade was the Acolyte. But his partner was the Angel. What if that was-"

"Philza!!" Fundy cries. "Oh god, we have both of the most deadly international terrorists in my school!! Why couldn't I have worn better clothes??"

"I don't think that should be our main concern." Eret steeples his fingers. "I think we should worry more about what they're planning to do."

"I'm going to talk to Captain Puffy." Fundy decides. "Come with me?"

"I'll pass. Good luck."

"I've got the best luck in the world." Fundy crows and skips off. He glances back once, briefly, only to see Eret watching him with an unreadable expression.

++++

Tipsy, Schlatt lounges on one of the pristine metal tables. In the background, HBomb sweeps up the shards of a broken whiskey bottle, the remnants of a drunken tantrum.

"Heyyy." Schlatt greets the mercenary waiting in the doorway. "Come on in."

"How much do I get paid for my trouble?" The mercenary asks, slouching in a too-large purple hoodie and baggy pants.

"Fifteen billion, take it or leave it." Schlatt grins.

"I'll take it. But this is the last time."

"Sure, honey."

"How'd you lose him again?"

"Bitch killed half my fucking scientists." Schlatt shrugs genially, hiding his irritation. "But we've got a neutralizing agent, now." He tosses a capsule to the mercenary, who catches it and inspects it. "Inject that and he'll be as harmless as a two-ton hippo."

"That's hardly what I'd call harmless."

"Eh, semantics. He won't be immortal."

"Hmm." The mercenary pockets the neutralizer. "I'll do it. But you'd better pay me exactly what you promised, or he dies."

"C'mon, darling, what do you take me for? A scam artist?? Nah, that's not my fucking style. Return him safe and sound, and everything will be just fine." Schlatt lights a cigar, takes a deep drag, then lets it all out in a slow plume. "Do as I say and nobody gets hurt."

++++

Eret opens his buzzing phone and answers, "Hey."

"Crocodiles don't cry often." The familiar voice says coldly into their ear.

"Crocodile tears are worthless." Eret replies.

Purpled laughs on the other end. "What do you say, partner? Ready to make some dough?"

Eret grins, baring her teeth. "Always."

Chapter 7 (Next)

#eret #purpled #ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #fundy #jack manifold #niki nihachu #no ship #fanfiction #dream smp au #dream smp #assassination classroom crossover #tw violence #tw threats #not rpf

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atiny-ahgase · 4 years

Text

The Magic Of Love

Author’s note: Hey everyone it’s Gabby again. I’ve had this idea for a while now, but I just didn’t have time to write it, I hope that you all like it. I’m not really familiar with Witchcraft and honestly, I’m not familiar with anything even remotely mystical but I just got this idea and thought that it was cool. So, this is it, hope you like it.

Summary: Y/n is trying their best to balance being a witch and university student at the same time. While they were out shopping for materials they bump into a rather handsome stranger. Small talk revealed that they actually had some classes together like Medieval History and Literature. They soon became hyper-aware of his presence and began wishing for his company. Not trusting your own charms to impress him you decide to conjure up your charms ‘if you get my drift’. What happens when you turn to magic to solve your problems?

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Pairing: Hongjoong x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Genre: Fluff, School au

Contains: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Magic but not really, Gender Neutral Reader,

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Releasing a loud sigh as you feel your perspiration dripping from your brow. “Why did I have to go shopping on literally the hottest day of the year?” you thought as you took a left down the alley slightly tripping over a piece of trash. “There is a trash can like 1 centimetre away, what the hell?” you state while looking at the trashcan in question. With your attention focused on the sheer laziness and disregard that individuals had for their surroundings and the environment as a whole you didn’t notice that you were walking while not exactly looking where you were going. The fact only becoming aware to you when you bumped into someone, causing you to drop along with all of your brown paper grocery bags onto the cold street floor.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry,” you begin while looking up at the stranger whom you collided with. Looking up at him the first thing you realized was his bright blue hair. The cold hue contrasting with the warmth of this eyes. His hair reminded you of the crystal clear skies, vast and beautiful, deep and mesmerizing. His eyes like the brown tree trunks that bordered your childhood home; a brilliant brown filled with life and warmth. “No it’s my fault,” you heard the stranger say, the cheerful tone in his voice catching you off-guard. “Are you okay?” he inquired while bending down to help you up from the spot where you had fallen.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you begin, “I’m a lot tougher than I look”, you beamed at him. You had never seen anyone as handsome as he was; surely you would have remembered. Looking up at him you smile brightly as you hear him release a soft chuckle at your comment, his dazzling smile shining like the midday sun, beautiful and blinding. You grasped his hand in yours, face heating up as you feel the warmth of his hand. Rising up from the floor you quickly dust off your jeans and palms before thanking the kind stranger.

“Thank you, and it really wasn’t your fault,” you confessed, “I just zoned out for a minute.” “Well as long as you’re okay then I guess it doesn’t really matter who’s at fault it is,” he replied before shrugging slightly. Stooping down you begin to retrieve all of your fallen items, placing them back into their bags. As you stayed on the floor you heard the steps of the blue-haired boy begin to fade, guess he’s leaving now.

After collecting all of your things you stand up, holding the paper bags in your hands once more. “I think you forget something,” you hear a voice just a few steps ahead of you. “This one must have gotten away from you,” he joked before handing you a silver can. The sun shone off of its ridges, reflecting the light onto the dark, dismal alleyway walls. “Thank you...again,” you say shyly before taking the can and placing it in your bag. “I’m Hongjoong by the way,” he says while extending his hand to you before pulling it back towards him, a look of embarrassment clearly on his face. “Sorry, your hands are full, you couldn’t shake my hand anyway-,” he began blabbering more to himself than to you. “I’m Y/n,” you interrupted.

He flashes you another smile as you begin to walk forward, you had finally finished shopping for all of the ingredients that you needed. Not wanting to endure the heat of the day anymore you were heading home to study your potion brewing. You had a big exam coming up and you need to pass if you wanted to be promoted to a higher rank, but at the rate, you were going that seemed almost impossible.

----

You had been practising witchcraft for about 5 years now; learning about it from your deceased grandmother. Things were incredibly difficult for you at the beginning as you tried to catch up with your peers. Everyone seemed to be better than you, granted you did start later than everyone else but the school board clearly didn’t care. Because of this, you struggled to make friends and eventually just gave up on the idea as a whole realizing that it wasn’t worth it.

Usual school wasn’t as difficult to make friends but the relationships never seemed to last long, every time you even tried to get close to someone the relationship acted like a castle of sand, crumbling the moment you try to grasp it. So you cut yourself off from that part of life completely, finding the work unnecessary and the pain too detrimental. Choosing to solely focus on your studies in both usual school and magic school, convincing yourself that relationships were unnecessary especially love. Falling in love was like basically signing your own death wish, like falling off a cliff to your rocky demise.

You were now entering university as well as still furthering your studies in the art of witchcraft. You knew that it was going to be difficult but you weren’t willing to part from either aspects of your life just yet. You had a huge exam coming up and needed to study your potions and spell casting, hence the reason for your unusual shopping trip. You were never really the best at potion making always seeming to choose the wrong ingredients or quantities almost always resulting in an explosion.

Hopefully, you’d have better luck in university; you were just starting a new year at a whole new school filled with a bunch of new people. You are really excited to start especially since all of your past peers opted for going to a school outside of your district. So you didn’t have to worry about your old bullies rearing their ugly heads at you.

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While walking you noticed that Hongjoong was going in the same direction as you, which wasn’t too odd considering that it was a pretty small town; there weren’t many places to really go. But that was one thing that you really loved about it, you found comfort in its familiarity. “So are you a local here?” you hear Hongjoong ask from beside you, probably tired of the deafening silence which had formed. “Well kinda”, you began “, I moved here when I was really young and I’ve been here ever since.”

You both seemed to click almost instantly and you welcomed his company, it had been such a long time since you’ve actually had a real conversation with someone. For being a complete stranger he knew more about you in the few minutes that you both walked together than anyone else in your life. It was amazing how he just broke down walls that you hadn’t even realized you had formed, turning them to rubble before your very eyes. You could honestly talk to him for hours and never get bored, he made every topic sound so riveting, you found yourself hanging off of every word that escaped his lips.

To your dismay, you spotted the bright red roses of your apartment garden much sooner than you had wanted. You couldn’t hide the small frown that had spread across your face once you were hit with the realization that you’d both me parting ways soon. “This is my stop,” you state while gesturing to your apartment building. “Well, I guess that I’ll see you around the Y/n,” he chimes in, sending you another one of his stunning smiles which you immediately return.

You both say your goodbyes before you walk up to your brick staircase and enter your apartment. Upon closing your front door you lent against the cold wood, back pressed up against it you released a soft sigh. He was nice, really nice, it had been so long since you had last enjoyed having a conversation with someone. Most of your conversations lately consisted of bickering with the other witches in your class or defending yourself against the bullies in your school. You had forgotten just how much you had missed pleasant conversations like that, the last time you had smiled so brightly was when you had told your grandmother that you had gotten into magic school. She was so happy, her face lit up like the brightest star on a Christmas tree. That was one of the best memories that you had shared with her; she was always a lively spirit, her young soul would often rub off on you, convincing you to look at the world in a more exciting light. You missed her, you truly did but you’d never forgotten everything that she had taught you, all of the time that you had spent together.

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The blaring sound of your morning alarm cut through the silence of the early morning like a knife through butter, shattering your pleasant dreams. Sighing loudly you rollover smashing your hand against the screen in a few futile attempts to turn off your alarm. You groan as you rise from your bed rubbing your eyes in an attempt to remove all remaining sleepiness. Today was the first day of school and even though you weren't really planning on trying to impress anyone you still wanted to look good for yourself. Rolling off of bed you readied yourself for the day deciding on is a simple button-up shirt with your favourite pair of blue jeans and converse sneakers. Your jeans were slightly rolled at the ankle allowing your mismatched socks to be seen, they were honestly your favourite parts of the outfit. Flinging your leather bag over your shoulder you grabbed your phone and keys before exiting the door. The journey to university wasn't that long since your house is fairly close to the campus.

Once you had arrived on compass you unzipped your bag in search of your schedule for the day. The edges of the paper blew violently due to the strong winds you were experiencing. Clutching the paper tightly in an attempt to keep it from flying away, you quickly skimmed through the page in search of your first classroom. Reading over your schedule you notice that your 1st class of the day was , Medieval History, the second floor of the history building room 208. Carefully placing the paper back into your bag you zipped it up before briskly walking to your class. Passing numerous students and faculty members you finally made your way to the large brown building. “How long was this building established?” you wondered before pushing open the doors to enter the Hall.

Walking to the elevator you pressed the button and waited for it to reach your floor. Standing there you rocked on the soles of your feet mind aimlessly wandering before you heard an all too familiar voice. Looking away from the closed elevator door you notice a fluffy head of bright blue hair. “Are you stalking me, mister Joong?” I enquire, a slight playfulness in my voice. He chuckles from beside you before replying “So you’re really walking around here thinking that my first name is Hong and my family name is Joong?” he queries while cocking his eyebrow at you.

Smiling brightly you turn to him, “I actually have no idea what your last name is but I had already committed to the sentence so there was no turning back”, you reply. “So you go to school here?” he continues while entering the elevator. “Nah, I just like to take pictures in front of the art wall,” you joke while standing beside him. You reach forward to press the elevator button but your hand stops midway when you realize that your floor has already been pressed. “You heading to room 208?” you question, noticing the textbook in his hand, it's the same textbook that you have in your bag. It was seated comfortably between your journal and binder. “Who is stalking who now?” he jokes, smiling brightly while leaning against the shimmering silver of the elevator walls.

Heading into class, you both sat next to each other at the front row closest to the door. Not long after your arrival, your lecturer began well...lecturing. Retrieving your book from your bag you began diligently taking notes, your attention hanging off of every word that he spoke. Glancing over at Hongjoong you see him slightly hunched over his deck, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration as he writes in his book. The class was fairly short as it was the first day and before you knew it you were packing up, getting ready to head to your other class. You and Hongjoong walked side by side discussing the lecture as well as all of your other classes. “I have History now what about you?” he inquired as you both reach the ground floor of the building. “I have a free period now but I have to go to the main admin building to sort out some stuff,” you responded. “Ugh I envy those guys at admin, they get to spend more time with you,” he spoke while nudging you gently. You couldn't help the blush that crept up on your face, heating up your body. “I’ll see you next class right,” you continued before exchanging numbers with each other.

----

“Okay, so I add this powder to the base and the liquid should turn from clear to purple right?” you ask yourself while standing over your pot. This was the 5th time you were trying this out with no success. This was not the time to be messing up, your potions exam is in 1 week. At this rate, you'll never be promoted to a higher rank. Looking down at the pot you sigh defeatedly “, Still clear.” You slumped down onto the pillowy cushions of your mint green couch allowing your body to be wrapped in its soft embrace. “This isn’t amateur hour Y/n, it wasn't supposed to happen like this,” you spoke softly and you were right. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, you weren't supposed to spend all your time with him, you needed to study and you knew that but then why? Why were you so drawn to him? This had never happened before so why now? Why him?

You've been in university for 2 months now and you'd hardly studied for anything whether it be magic-related or not. But do you know what you have done? Hang out with Hongjoong a lot, you both went to the movies, campus café and library under the pretense of studying but you both just ended up talking about your favourite authors and guess what? You both liked the same writer. You had never meshed with anyone that well before. You felt like you could talk to him for hours about everything and nothing at all. He made you feel, for lack of better words, like you were floating. You could talk with him for hours and it would only seem like a few minutes to you. If you should spend your entire university life next to him you would.

But you knew that you couldn’t because he's way too popular to want you by his side 24/7. This thought became clear to you when you had agreed to meet up with Hongjoong at your University Café. Walking into the quaint little shop you were greeted by the smell of freshly baked banana bread; your favourite. Scanning the shop you quickly spotted Hongjoong sitting in the corner with 7 other guys, seemingly causing chaos in the once quiet shop. You smiled brightly as you waved at him, gulping down that feeling of social awkwardness you always get around large groups you sat next to him. He had saved a seat for you.

After ordering your coffee the guys all started to have what appeared to be a very lively conversation but you couldn't focus on anything they were saying. It was something about a party that was happening later in the week that was surely gonna have a bunch of really attractive people attending. That was kinda when you zoned out, Hongjoong was out of your league and you knew it. He was smart, sweet, talented, handsome, caring and so much more. Meanwhile, you were struggling to keep up with your workload, your hair was a mess and you have to mentally prepare yourself before even raising your hand in class to ask a question. He seemed to be so put together while you were just falling apart more and more each day.

But still, you wanted to be beside him even if it was only for a little bit longer, you weren't ready to let go of him yet. Releasing a loud sigh over how absolutely stupid you were being you plopped yourself down; rather clumsily I might add, unto your couch causing the book which was hanging on for dear life to fall onto the cold wooden floor. Bending down you realize that it was one of the magic books that you had borrowed from the library. Picking it up you see a piece of paper slip out from between the pages. Grasping it in your hands you carefully unfold it and read the words. “Love Potion”, you read “, Upon consumption, the subject will confess to the first person they see.” You rub your eyes briskly to ensure that what you were seeing was right. A potion that makes you fall in love with the first person you saw? Surely that was too good to be true. If you were to use it on- no you can't even think about using it on Hongjoong. What were you even thinking? Practicing unsanctioned magic was against the rules. But...why was that the only thing stopping you from making this potion? You are pulled from your thoughts by the ringing sound of your cell phone.

“Hello?” you answer, too preoccupied to look at the caller ID. Listening through the phone all you hear is hushed mumbling. Looking at your screen you realized that it was Hongjoong, but why would he be calling at this hour? He was supposed to be at a party with the others. He must have called you by mistake, you deduce. Readying yourself to end the call you stopped when you heard an unfamiliar voice come through the phone. “I like you,” it said. In that instance, you felt as though your entire world was crashing down before you. He was being confessed to? Why did this even shock you? Someone like Hongjoong would surely find someone to date in a matter of time, he's just that wonderful. Of course, people would fall for him, you definitely did. “Sorry,” you hear him say in that oh so sweet voice that you loved so very much “, I have my plate full with school so I don't really think that I should be getting into a relationship”.

That was all that you needed to hear. Sure you felt sorry for the person that had confessed, at least they had the balls to do it, unlike a certain someone. That was when you had finally made your choice, you were making that potion. You didn't care if you got caught by your magic teachers, Hongjoong was worth the risk. Reading over the list of ingredients you ransacked your apartment in search of everything that you needed. Thankfully you had everything since you had gone shopping for more supplies only days before. Looking over your instructions again you noticed a small disclaimer at the bottom of the page. “Disclaimer: Potion will be ineffective if the subject is already in love; there is no force stronger than true love”. Were you really going to do this? Yeah, you were.

----------------

Everything was finally in place. You had made the potion and mixed it in with cupcake batter in order to mask the taste. You had invited Hongjoong over for a study session which he immediately accepted because even he knew that you needed all the help you could get. Placing your hand over your heart you attempted to calm your breathing before he arrived. Too late. The ringing of your doorbell caused you to jump from your seat. Trying to keep your cool you opened the door and smiled at him. He wore his blue hair slightly wavy which gave it this adorable fluffy look, he looked so cute. He had a bright yellow barrett and matching yellow turtle neck which he wore under his opened coat. Upon seeing you he returned your smile before stepping into your apartment.

“Something smells good”, he states while resting his coat on your coach. “Yeah I baked cupcakes,” you chimed in while trying to sound excited. “Shouldn’t you be studying instead of baking,” he inquired while quirking a playful eyebrow at you. You chuckled at his playfulness before heading to the kitchen to grab 2 muffins. “I just wanted to thank you for coming over to help me. You didn’t have to so I really appreciate it,” you said before handing him the muffin. “What if I want that one?” he asked while pointing to the muffin in your other hand and pouting. “I picked this one out for you because it has the most blueberries and they remind me of your hair,” you whined at him. You could of sworn that you had seen him blush. “Thank you,” he mumbles before taking the muffin from your hand and taking a bite. In those moments you thought that your heart was going to explode. This was what you had been waiting for and it frightened you so much more than you had expected.

“Y/n I love”, he began while wiping the muffin crumbs off of his mouth “, these muffins”. You felt your heart sink and you knew that Hongjoong could tell. If the potion didn't work there was only one reason why; he had liked someone else. You tried your best to play it off but there was honestly no hiding your disappointment. You ate your muffin before you both sat on the couch to go over your notes and begin studying for your upcoming exam but Hongjoong knew that you weren't feeling it. “Let’s take a break okay Y/n,” he said before standing up to stretch his legs. You, however, stayed completely still on the couch, your mind somewhere else completely.

“When exams are over Mingi is gonna hold a party, well it's more like a little get together. Do you wanna come?” Hongjoong asked from beside your window sill. The silver moonlight illuminating his face so flawlessly. Your mind wandered back to the party that Hongjoong had gone to previously, the bad memories of his confession eating you up inside. “How was the last party?” you asked, catching Hongjoong off guard. “Same old same old I guess. Would have been more fun if you were there,” he smiled at you, an uncertain look in his bright brown eyes. “So nothing interesting happened?” you pushed, you had no idea why you were pestering him. You were just so mad and disappointed in yourself that you had to let it out. Granted absolutely nothing was Hongjoong’s fault you still needed to get out your frustrations and he was the only one here so...

He paused for a moment, attempting to recall the events from that night. “San and Wooyoung threw Sangie into the pool. It was pretty funny,” he smiled at you. That had always been your weakness. He had always been your weakness. Even in your shocked and disappointed state he still managed to make you smile. You were so jealous of the person who had his heart, you hoped that they would cherish it the same way that you did. The rest of the night carried on with no hiccups, Hongjoong thought you, you kinda listened and kinda stole glances at him every chance you could get. Just because he was in love with someone else didn’t mean that you weren’t still in love with him. After about 5 hours of you being almost completely lost, Hongjoong decided that it was time to call it quits for the night. Although you were happy that you could finally be alone with your thoughts you also dreaded this moment because you had to now be alone with your thoughts. There was no Hongjoong to distract you from well...Hongjoong. You both said you goodbyes before he pulled you into a hug, one hand resting on your back as the other one stayed on the back of your head, rubbing it gently. You rested your head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent. You hand never hugged him before, he smelt of cologne and vanilla. You were determined to engrave that scent into your memory because you probably weren’t going to be getting any more hugs from him after what you were about to do.

So what if the potion didn’t work? So what if he loved someone else? Honestly, who cares? The only thing you cared about was him and you needed him to know that. You couldn’t just sit around and mope about it, you needed to let it out, otherwise, how would you heal? You gripped the back of his shirt when you felt him begin to pull away. “Just a moment more,” you thought. You felt him stiffen in your arms but he simply wrapped his arms around you once more and pulled you even closer to him. That was all it took for your heart to burst. All of the emotions that you had harboured for those 2 months, 1 week and 2 days were finally breaking through to the surface and you could do little to stop it. You felt a single run down your face, its warmth paling in comparison to the warmth of Hongjoong’s embrace. You opened your mouth to speak, thinking that it would be easier for you to confess if you didn’t have to see the disappointment in his face. But he beat you to it.

“If you keep doing things like this I’m going to get the wrong idea,” he whispered, arms engulfing your body in his own. “If you keep breaking down my walls I’ll be left defenseless,” he continued as he nuzzled his face into your neck, his warm breath tickling you slightly. Were you hearing correctly? Was he actually saying this to you? You gripped his shirt even tighter, nails slightly grazing the skin on his back, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I-If you’re defenseless,” you began while swallowing the lump in your throat, your voice shivering in anxiety “, then I’ll protect you. That’s the deal; my heart for yours.” You thought that it was impossible for Hongjoong to hold you tighter than he already was but Hongjoong always seems to find a way. “No take-backs okay? Once I give you my heart it’s yours forever,” he spoke pulling away from you, his eyes searching yours for any ounce of uncertainty. Finding none he gently cupped your cheek, his thumb aimlessly drawing circles on your skin as he smiled at you, but the smile never reached to his eyes as his hand slowly shifted down your cheek to allow his thumb to caress your lips. They quivered at the contact as your body froze under his intense gaze. You had never seen him look that way before, and the fact that he was looking at you made this moment even more unbearable.

“Joong,” you squeaked out, eyes silently pleading for him to do something, anything. Once you had broken the silence that was the last straw, it was as though your voice was the last raindrop that broke through a dam of emotion. His hand stayed on your cheek as the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. In direct contrast with the hasty movements of his hands his plush lips glided across yours with such gentleness, it felt as though you were kissing a feather, light and airy. You both eventually pulled away from the kiss, in desperate need of air but that didn’t stop Hongjoong from placing small, breathless kisses along your neck and literally, anywhere he could attach his lips to. You chuckled slightly as his hair tickled your sensitive skin. Placing your hand on the nape of his neck, you caressed his head, fingers tangling in the blue ocean of his head. “I love you so much Y/n,” you hear him mumble from against your neck. You couldn’t stop the blush that had crept up your face at his words. You had dreamt about him saying those words to you for so long and now that he had finally said it you feel as though your heart was going to explode. But you couldn’t let that happen, your heart was his now. “I love you to Joongie,” you softly whisper as you wrap your arms around him.

#Ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #Ateez au #au fanfiction #hongjoong x reader #Hongjoong x Gender neutral reader #ateez x gender neutral reader #School au #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez fluff #Hongjoong fluff #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong x reader fluff #fluff

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satsuki2406 · 4 years

Text

OPEN SKY Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"...And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that'll help you fly."

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others' expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all...

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: Failure

Chapter 3: Her Start

2-Sometimes the Greatest Hero of All is a Good Friend

“The person you’ve called is unavailable, please leave a-”

“Still no answering…. You said you’ll call me right after the exam (Y/N), I hope everything is ok. What should I do now? Oh! I got it!” Swiftly, slender fingers moved over the tactile screen of her phone, anxious eyes looking for a specific contact. “Found it!” After a few rings, the other end of the line was answered.

“Good afternoon,Mizaki talking. How may I help you today?”

“Hello, may I please speak to (L/N) Xiù-san?”

“I’m sorry. (L/N)-san is busy right now. Would you like to leave a message?”

“Sure, please let her know I’m calling in regard of (Y/N), I would like to know about her.”

“Alright miss, and your name please?”

“Yaoyorozu Momo.”

Three days have passed since the whole U.A fiasco, you were of course grounded, with no phone, no internet and completely insolated in your room. Your fever was already gone, just leaving behind a really mild sore throat. Although your body didn’t hurt anymore, your heart did, over and over again you replayed the whole thing in your mind beating your head to find out what you could have changed, what you could have done differently. It was eating you inside out. You felt like a failure and so unfortunate. How could you fail over something so silly?!

You’ve been in your bed since you arrived home that day, already numbed by all the crying you did that night, your mom’s complains, and had barely eaten. You knew that in a couple of days the response from U.A will arrive to already tell you what you knew. And after that, you’ll have no choice but go to class again for the last week of school. Thankfully there’s surely nothing you’ll have to catch up with.

But before you could sail deeper in your personal sea of self-petty, a knock on your door took you out of your rambling thoughts.

“Come in,” you said boringly.

“Sorry to disturb you (Y/N)-sama but Yaoyorozu-sama had come to visit you, do you want me to let her in or you prefer to rest a little-”

“Momo?! Oh, yes please, tell her to come in!”

“As you wish, (Y/N)-sama”

A couple of minutes later Momo entered your room escorted by the same maid. She was wearing your school uniform, by her side were two of her bodyguards, on her left, one was caring several paper grocery bags full of what looked like tons of snacks and junk food, on her right another tall and bulky man held a white cake box and some pastel-colored paper bags. You threw yourself to her and hugged her fondly. She gasped surprised by your sudden show of affection, but she immediately returned it with one of her own, melting with you in a tight embrace. “Momoo! *SNIFF* I missed you so much! I’m sorry for not answering your texts and calls but my mom took my phone away.”

“Oh, (Y/N) don’t worry I imagined something like that, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come before, but when I tried to come visit, one of the maids said your mother had prohibited it.”

“Of course she did, she feeds on my suffering” you mumbled sourly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, I know she can be-uhm…”

“Harsh? Insufferable? Unreasonable? A hag-?”

*AHEM! * Strict, she can be strict-yes! But I’m sure that she is doing it all with your best interest in mind, or I hope so…”

“Aha… not even you believe that, by the way, what’s up with all the shopping bags?” At the mention of them, she beamed, star-eyed, cheeks flushed with excitement, recalling her little adventure of the day.

“Today I went to one of these really incredible, advantageous little stores where you can find anything, anywhere and have a wide variety of products for a fair price.

“You mean a konbini?”

“Yes! They are great, aren’t they? So convenient!”

“I bet they are.”

“They really are! To think that all of this only cost me ¥10 000!*”

“You spent how much?!”

“Oh, it’s nothing! I made sure to get an ample array of different products to enjoy together and, I thought some yummy snacks would cheer you up.”

You felt your heart clench at such sweet declaration from your dearest and oldest friend, she really was the most selfless and caring being you’ve ever met.

“Momo~! Have I ever told you that I’ll be nothing without you~?”

“Yes, and is nice to hear that you value my efforts, even if I can’t do anything to revert the past and change what happened, I can act now, in the present and do as best as I can to make you feel better and let you know that anything that occurred is not your fault, so please don’t think less of you. Sometimes life acts in mysterious ways that maybe we don’t understand, but someday it will make sense and we will know, comprehend and accept why our plans do not always go as we wish.

And even if it’s hard to accept at first, there are better things waiting for us than we even expected or asked for since the beginning. What I’m trying to say is, please don’t let this unpleasant ordeal take you down, I know that you’re more than capable to be a hero, even more than me, so keep fighting no matter how many times they knock you down, I’m sure you’ll still rise every time. Don’t give up.” Your friend looked at you while she held both of her hands over her chest, her eyes bright, sweet and sincere made her words hit you with more intensity.

“Momo…” you said moved.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I think I got a little sentimental, but anyway! I hope you like what I brought for this occasion-Oh! Kaji-san, Sasaki-san please leave the bags here.” Momo instructed the bodyguards to put them over the center table of the seating area inside your spacious room. After that, they were dismissed and exited the room alongside the same maid that let them in.

Immediately after they left, another one entered your room with a golden vintage-looking bar cart full of all the musts for a proper tea party. A shiny silver tea set was put in the center of the cart, besides it a couple of white golden rimmed China teacups seated cutely surrounded by all kinds of sweet and savory goodies. Under the same cart, a large collection of the most exquisite teas and coffees could be found, most of them brought by your mother herself from her several trips around the globe. As an enthusiast of these drinks, she always made sure to visit the most renowned tea crafter countries to bring the best of the best with her.

“Good afternoon ladies, what would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have tea, that new black tea my mother got last month,” You said.

“Sure! And for you Yaoyorozu-sama?”

“I’ll drink the same, you talked to me about this tea before, right? It sounded so good that I’ve been wanted to try it since then.”

“I’m positive you’ll enjoy it as much as I did! It has a fruity undertone; it goes really well with everything.” You said excitedly.

Once the hot drinks were set and served the maid left the room with the snacks Momo brought to place them in the kitchen for later consuming. Once alone, you could talk more comfortably and privately.

“So… what in heaven you did or said to make my flexible as a rock mother to let you enter into my fortress of loneliness?”

“That’s easy…”

“School Work”

“That’s it?! And what school work?! Next week is the last week of classes, and we already had our final tests. What else could you do that we haven’t already done last week?”

“A lot actually, we still had to receive our final lessons and they gave back our tests’ results and you mother specify clearly and I quote: ‘Although (Y/N) is sick it doesn’t mean I’ll allow her under any circumstances to get delayed on her studies even if the school year is basically over, she must learn discipline and obedience, put in practice what she’s been taught all this time, she evidently hasn’t been taught properly.’

“Why it doesn’t surprise me she said that? Do you-”

“-Have your tests with me right now? Of course, they are part of the reason your mother let me trespass your ‘fortress of loneliness’ Pretty impressive as always, but I guess you couldn’t beat me in math, again.” She smiled.

“Aw! I studied really hard for that exact reason!”

“Don’t worry it was only 5 points-Wow! you were pretty right! This tea is delectable!” Momo said after taking a sip of her cup.

“But still!-I know! Right?”

“Don’t worry though, you’ll have plenty of times in high school”

After Momo’s comment everything came back to your mind, it really felt like a distant memory, at some point you question yourself if it was real, to begin with, it was hard to believe that one single person could have such bad luck in less than 12 hours, every single thing that could go possibly wrong went horrible. And now it was over, you once in a lifetime opportunity slipped from your fingers as soon as it came. And now with your mother aware of your intentions it could be nearly impossible to escape the path that was already set for you.

It's useless now, isn’t it?’

“(Y/N)?”

“Huh?”

Without you knowing, countless tears started rolling down your cheeks, the sadness and frustration scaping out of your body against your will.

“I’m sorry for touching that topic so aggressively, it was so tactless of me to don’t have your feelings on the account.” Said Momo a bit dejected.

“Don’t worry about that Momo, you are already doing so much to make me feel better and I’m so grateful you are here with me right now and, I’ll have to get over it eventually.” Momo frowned, she knew you really well and although she knew your words to her were genuine, you were not ok or dealing well with it at all, maybe if you…

“Do you want to talk about it? You know, vent your frustrations with me? You know you can trust me.” She said while she took your hand reassuringly.

“I know I can trust in you Mocchan, you are my best friend…”

“But?”

“I don’t even know how to put into words how I feel, it’s overwhelming at so many levels! Everything crumbled down so fast than before I could understand what was going on, I blacked out in the middle of battle center trying to save some guy form a 3 pointer, at the end I was the one who needed to be saved. I lost my only chance to make my dreams come true in such a foolish way and I couldn’t do anything about it! I went through so much! I had to wake up at 4:30 every day to train without my mother noticing, I stayed up until 2 am to study and be prepared for the exam, and all of that for nothing! I don’t even know what to do Momo, I feel I going crazy! I’m losing my mind inside these four walls! I feel trapped, hopeless, I just, I just want to disappear…”

An ominous silence invaded the room, you finally could say all that you have been bottling in out all this time. Momo debated what she could say in a situation like this, you really were screwed. But even having knowledge of your situation and its implications, something told her that, even if it was small there is still some hope. Trying to collect her thoughts she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, after a few seconds she opened them again and looked at you with a mix of confidence and faith.

“You know, since we met, I always thought you were the most courageous and aspiring person I’ve ever known. You never gave up, never let the limitations given by your family stopped you from being who you truly were, like a bird who didn’t know about frontiers or bounds, always focused at the horizon, what laid ahead, in the future, your future. Although you knew it was risky, you did it anyway, you took a leap of faith, and even though things didn’t come out as you wanted, you did it, you dared. Failure means that you’ve tried, don’t let failures and errors stop you, but make you stronger. So please, raise your head, stand proudly because a hero can always-”

“-break out of a tough spot, I know. Thank you, Momo.” You looked at your spread palm and closed your eyes for a moment. “It’s true that there’s nothing I can do, It already happened, is in the past and I can’t change it, but, as you said I have the present, the one that matters, the one that’ll help me shape my future, there’s no point on sulking over something that already happened, but I do have control over what’s happening and will happen. The only thing I can do now is wait for my letter, get over it, get a closure. And after that happens, I’ll just try it again, I learned my lesson, if I want to be a strong hero, I have to think in my wellbeing first, If I can’t save myself, I won’t be able to save anybody. I’ll do it at my own pace.” You closed your fist and opened your eyes full of renewed energy and conviction, you looked up at your always trusty friend and gave her your most sincere smile.“I don’t know how but I’ll keep trying, I’ll definitely do it.” Momo smiled back at you sharing your same emotions, grateful to see the same flame invade your eyes and spirit.

“I know you will.”

“…But first, we’ll have some melon pan.*”

“…”

*¥10,000 are approximately $91,35.

*Melon pan [ メロンパン ] (meronpan): They are sweet buns made with an enriched dough covered in a thin layer of crisp cookie dough. Their appearance resembles a melon (cantaloupe). Ironically they are not usually melon flavored but it can vary from caramel, maple syrup, chocolate, sometimes with syrup, whipped cream, flavored cream or custard as a filling. In the case of such variations, the name may drop the word 'melon' (maple pan) or may keep it despite the lack of melon favor (chocolate melon pan).

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rainandhotchocolate · 4 years

Text

Blackout - Part 7

A/N lelel it’s here!! I am so fucking TIRED but exams are done and I’m on holidays and thank you for all the love and good luck wishes!! Here’s hoping I passed hehe. Anyways, here’s a long chapter for you - I think it’s 2.5k ish so I hope tht partially makes up for the supreme lateness!! Love y’all xx

Part 7

“You ready?” Lily stood behind Y/N in the mirror, straightening the front of Y/N’s robes.

“I think so,” Y/N took in a deep breath, spinning around to face her, “You know we’d make a great couple.”

Lily snorted, “Someone needs to take care of James.”

“Ahh true love,” Y/N laughed, playing with the front of her robes, “Did I really wear this every day?”

“I promise I didn’t prank you for your first day back at work,” Lily replied, “And yes, I think Sirius might have some more at you- his as well.”

Lily cleared her throat awkwardly, ushering Y/N out of her room and down the stairs to where James was making scrambled eggs. Y/N rolled her eyes at Lily’s uncomfortable expression.

“I’m not going to melt if you say anything about Sirius and me, Lils.”

“I’m sorry, I just keep forgettin- no sorry I mean-“

“Breathe Lily,” Y/N sat down, pulling a plate of eggs towards her, “Look, I know it’s weird, for both of us, but I can’t panic every time I hear about my past relationship.”

Y/N didn’t miss the look that passed between Lily and James but she ignored it, digging into her food.

“Excited to head back to work?” James sat down in front of her, wiggling is eyebrows.

“I mean, I’ve forgotten a fair amount, I’m a bit worried I’ve forgotten how to, you know, exist in the world.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lily knocked her elbow, “And I’m coming to meet you for lunch anyway so you have an excuse to ditch any corporate gits.”

“And you know that when there’s silence in a conversation you’re meant to screech at the top of your lungs right? Common Ministry courtesy.”

Y/N glared at James, “One day I’m going to fall for one of your stupid comments and you’ll be very sorry.”

“I’ll be cackling you mean.”

“No no, you will be vomiting slugs for a week.”

James put his hands up in mock surrender.

“I promise to avoid anything you might actually believe.”

“Much appreciated.”

“Ok, come on come on, I don’t want you to be late on your second first day,” Lily stood up, grabbing Y/N’s bag and hauling it over her shoulder. Y/N stood up, stretching out her back and smiling.

“Let’s go.”

Y/N felt her stomach flipping over as Lily led her down the backstreets of London to the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry. She was grateful that they took her back, though she had a feeling that someone had had a little discussion with Dumbledore, given she’d received an odd letter congratulating her on her job just minutes before the Ministry owl came through.

Lily opened the bright red phone booth, pulling Y/N inside. Ok deep breath, you got this job once for a reason, you can’t have changed that much.

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts when she felt the jolt of the elevator as it began sinking into the ground. Lily handed her a name tag and gave her a steady smile. The elevator opened, revealing the large tiled lobby to the Ministry of Magic. It was larger than Y/N had remembered, a looming hallway with large ceilings and deep blue tiled archways leading into deep sectors of the building. The grand fountain sat at the end of the hall, golden statues of a centaur and a wizard joined together and surrounded by crystal blue water.

Lily led her down the hallway, heels clicking loudly and back straight and tall. Fellow witches and wizards slipped in and out of the hall through passageways and the floo network, each holding large briefcases and papers, all looking extremely busy.

Lily slipped quickly into an elevator at the end of the hall, pulling Y/N inside with her.

“You’re level 6,” Lily whispered into her ear, having to lean passed a small witch with grey hair and a stare that Y/N thought could kill a man on the spot.

“Do I need to sign in?” Y/N tried to lean back but curled away as the witch turned her gaze onto Y/N.

“No, Salitus said to go straight to his office.”

“Right.” Y/N remembered the name, furrowing her brows to try to see if any details came to her. A weird feeling came over her, making her heart pump harder in her chest and she pulled out of her thoughts, focusing on the man in front of her instead.

“Level 6,” the elevator voice called, and Lily pulled Y/N out of the elevator, following two men who were talking in hushed whispers down the hallway to their left.

“You ok?” Lily had turned to her but expression changed quickly when she saw Y/N’s face.

“Yeah, I just… I feel weird, I don’t know, I think I’m nervous.”

Lily bit her lip, reaching out to squeeze Y/N’s hand.

“You don’t have to come in today you know? We can just go for a walk around London, try again tomorrow?”

“No,” Y/N steeled herself, “I’m just being silly, let’s go.”

****

Sirius placed the large box on James’ counter. When he looked up to meet James and Peter’s eye he saw them grimacing at him.

“Yeah nice and subtle guys.” Sirius huffed, “Making me feel real good about the whole bringing back my ex-girlfriend’s stuff who I never broke up with.”

“Not really sure what to do in this situation,” Peter tried to hide his expression better but it didn’t work.

“Yeah, normally your break ups entailed more firewhiskey and running around in the woods.”

“That would be much more entertaining than this version.” Sirius sat down at the table and pushed the box towards James. “She’s gone to work?”

“Yep, left a few hours ago.”

“How… you know, did she seem?”

“I think nervous, but excited to be going back to something she remembered.” James grabbed the box, lifting over and onto the stairs towards the bedrooms.

“I can’t believe she can only remember to that job.” Peter shook her head, “I mean that’s before she even met us.”

“Thanks for that reminder.”

“Ok, ok you we need to get you out of the house.” James watched Sirius who had placed his head into his hands. “I don’t like mopey Sirius.”

“I’ll try to be happier for you,” Sirius rolled his eyes but James continued.

“Come on, we’ll come to yours tonight, I’ll bring drinks and I’ll get Remus to bring back the cloak.”

“I don’t know man, I kind of want to be alone.”

“Alone never ends well with you,” Peter snorted. James elbowed him sharply in the ribs and he groaned.

“Where is Remus anyway?”

“Another mission for Dumbledore,” James huffed, “At least this one is just for a day, apparently Dumbledore wants him to go for a whole month.”

“A month? What on earth is he going to do for that long?” Peter furrowed his brow, unpacking a box of biscuits and handing them around.

“Gather intel? Be killed by feral werewolves?” Sirius scowled, “I don’t like this.”

“I know, Remus looked ragged the last time I saw him.”

“What time does he get back tonight?”

“Around 8, I think.” James crunched down into a biscuit shaking his head, “I’ll be so mad if he’s hurt.”

“Alright mum,” Sirius laughed at his solemn face, “but ok fine, get him to come over when he gets back. And you better actually bring something to drink.”

“Deal.”

****

Lily squeezed Y/N’s hand as she entered Salitus’ office. He was a tall man with lanky limbs and dark auburn hair. Y/N had a faint memory of him as her manager, but nothing concrete. He smiled at her as she entered.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you, we were so glad to hear you had gotten out of St Mungo’s.” Salitus shook her hand and directed Y/N to a brown leather seat in front of his desk. The room was covered in photos of animals flying in and out frames and salamanders spouting fire towards the room.

“Yes, definitely good to be back up and in the real world,” Y/N smiled at him, trying to look light and bubbly, not like the deep pit of confusion she was feeling.

“We’re very happy to have you back and have Lauren ready to help train you back up again if you need support.” Salitus pulled open a drawer to his left and took out a stack of papers, hitting them on the desk to bring them together. “There are a few things we need you to sign, all the same as when you first joined us, just need to make sure that you’re across the same privacy agreements and all that boring stuff.”

He flashed her another smile and Y/N fought the urge to frown at his teeth gleaming slightly in the light of the office.

“That’s totally fine, I can get to them first thing.”

“Perfect! Well I’ll let you get to your office and get a feel for everything and Lauren will drop in soon to get you up to speed. Send me a note if you need anything at all.” Salitus handed her the papers and stood up, Y/N following his lead and getting up quickly from the leather chair.

“Great, it was good to see you again.”

“You as well.” Y/N nodded to him and followed him out towards the door before he closed it behind her. Lily was still waiting outside reading, putting down her book as Y/N approached.

“Everything all good?”

“Yeah I think so,” Y/N shrugged, “Just have to sign some papers and can head back to my office – also I have an office? I thought I shared an office.”

“I think you moved into your own office before you q- the accident,” Lily stumbled, beginning to walk down the corridor. Y/N narrowed her eyes but let Lily lead her further into the department. “This is you.”

Y/N’s name was emblazoned on the front of a large black door towards the end of the corridor.

“Weird.”

“Yeah,” Lily laughed, “I would love to have my name on something.”

“Have a kid and name it Lily,” Y/N grinned at her, “Are you coming in?”

“No, I’ve got to head into work for a bit but I’ll see you tonight?”

“See you then.”

***

“Open the door Sirius!” James banged on the door to his apartment, bottle of firewhiskey in hand. The door swung open to reveal Remus, his eyes looking sunken and black but he was smiling at him all the same.

“Welcome to the house of depression.”

“Oh good, love a warm welcome.” James slid past him and into the apartment. It was covered in art and framed posters of gigs Sirius and Y/N had been too, the furniture clearly picked out by Y/N as it wasn’t black or second-hand.

Remus grinned at him and followed James back towards the living room where music was blasting and Peter was watching Sirius set up an elaborate line of shots with his wand out and ready.

“You ready for a new game!?” Sirius looked up when James entered, clearly already tipsy, his eyes flashing mischievously.

“Hit me.” James sat on the couch and passed him another bottle of whiskey to add to his stash next to the table.

“We’re doing proper firewhiskey,” Sirius flicked his wand so that one of the shots lit on fire. “With a twist.”

“More of a twist?” Remus snorted.

“I’m gonna place these around the rooms and we need to try to apparate directly in front of them.”

“What happens if we miss?”

“The rest of us gets to decide a punishment.” Sirius grinned.

“Sounds good to me,” James grinned in response, clapping his hands together. “Let’s do it.”

Three hours later the four boys had drunk two bottles of firewhiskey, Peter was dressed in his underwear and Remus’ hair was singed with fire. James had had to streak down a the road outside Sirius’ apartment at one point as well and was sure the lady downstairs was going to hit on him the next time she passed.

Sirius was lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling fan spinning slowly. He’d apparated perfectly in front of each shot and had already out drunk all three of them. Remus was flicking through Sirius’ records, calling out each one he liked to see if the rest of them wanted it playing.

“I’ve told you three time, it’s New Order or nothing.” James called from the bathroom, poking his head around the doorway.

“Alright alright, putting it on now.” Remus flipped the record, placing it on the player and placing the needle down and turning up the volume.

Blue Monday blasted through the speakers and Remus went over to Sirius, still on the floor.

“Come on, you’ve got to get up for Blue Monday.” Remus kicked his feet, stumbling sideways slightly. James had come back into the living room and grabbed Peter’s hand, spinning him towards the fire.

“Nah, imma stay here,” Sirius slurred up at him, kicking his feet back towards Remus who side stepped him.

“Come on.” Remus rolled his eyes, leaning down to grab his hand and pull him back up to standing. Sirius swayed on his feet, stumbling towards the wall, giggling.

“Oops, everything’s spinning,” He mumbled towards Remus, turning around to watch James and Peter pretend to Irish dance in the corner.

“You need water you idiot.”

“Noooo, I’m good, I need some more, I’m sobering up!”

“Liar!” Peter called out to him, attempting a high kick and hitting the edge of the doorway.

“You’re literally going to puke over your floor if you have any more, and you’ve not even had to do anything bad yet,” James caught Peter before he slipped backwards.

“Well come on then, hit me, dare me to do something friends,” Sirius winked at James, “give me your worst.”

“I can’t think of anything,” Remus blinked a few times, “My brain has turned to mush.”

“Streak!” Peter sat down, puffing loudly.

“You can’t re dare the same thing,” James rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, why don’t you floo call someone?”

“Calling someone!” Sirius yelled, throwing his hands up in the air, “Perfect!”

Sirius knelt on the ground, shifting his legs across the floorboards to reach the fireplace. He placed his hand in the large pot of floor powder to his right, grabbing a hand-full and throwing it into the fire.

“James and Lily’s!”

***

“Merlin’s beard I am exhausted.” Y/N flopped onto the couch as Lily handed her a cup of peppermint tea and a plateful of fig newtons.

“Long first day?” Lily smiled at her, curling up her feet underneath the couch and leaning into the arm.

“I remember Lauren being boring but listening to her talk about the ins and outs of my job for three hours honestly made me want to be back in St Mungo’s.”

“She sounds like a delight.” Lily snorted.

“Seriously, she made the job sound like the most painful thing on the planet, but there’s a reason I joined right? A reason I stayed?” Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I hate feeling like I’m back at step one in my career you know.”

“Ahh you’ll find your way again,” Lily stole a fig newton, “You might just need to repeat some of the same mistakes before you get there.”

“Sounds fucking fun.” Y/N sighed, staring at the fireplace. “How was your day?”

“Alright, doing field work is a bit painful at the moment, I was hoping it would be more like working at St Mungo’s but it feels more like I’m just being sent to break up petty fights they think might be death eater attacks.”

“So, healing broken noses and black eyes?”

“Just about, learning a lot about dumb boys.” Lily snorted, “Which I think I already have a fucking degree in.”

Suddenly there was a crackling sound and within an instant the two girls were standing, wand in hand pointing towards the fire that had began moving in front of them.

“Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice called through the fire and they lowered their stance. Sirius’s face was pushing through the fireplace, grinning stupidly as he tried to find Y/N. “There you are!”

“Hey there, Sirius, you sound like you’re having a good night.” Y/N smiled at him, sitting down closer to the fireplace.

“A great night! Fan-bloody-tastic night!”

“So what’s going on?”

“Well the boys dared me to floo call someone and I thought of you!”

“That’s very kind of you,” Y/N laughed, hearing Remus calling out to Sirius in the background.

“Anyway, anyway, I really just wanted to tell you, like, tell you how much I miss you – no, James I’m fine!” Sirius’ face moved towards where Y/N presumed James was trying to pull him away from the fire. Y/N could hear Lily suck in a breath from behind her.

“No, I needed to let you know that I really really miss you, you know? Like it kinds hurts a lot sometimes but you’re still here and you’re ok, but you’re also not here? You know? And I just, I love you Y/N so much and I don’t know what to do without you but you are here, so I’m just really confused but I thought you needed to know ho-“

Sirius’s face disappeared from the fire as she heard three boys yell loudly and presumably drag him backwards and into his living room again. A silence fell, Lily’s breathing heavy and loud behind her.

“Are you ok?” Lily said after a moment, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N said nothing, staring at the place where Sirius’s face had been and feeling every part of her body tense painfully.

“I’m making his life worse by being here.” Y/N muttered finally, her throat constricting tightly. She was bringing him so much pain by existing without the memories of him. She wondered momentarily if it would have been better to just have never woken up. No, that’s not the problem. The problem is whoever did this to me. Whoever decided to cause this pain.

“No you’re not, love, I promise. He’s just drunk and a bit sad, he will be ok.”

“Tell me about that night.” Y/N turned to face Lily. Her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“The night I got hurt, tell me about it. I want to know what happened.”

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