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tanoraqui · 2 years

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this stunning art says it’s time for my long-awaited (to me) extended headcanon breakdown of the kings of the Noldor

Finwe

Finwë was a good king, he really was. He was responsible, inspiring; he dared to trust and to explore; he was probably even pretty good at administration and politics

He led his people through dark lands to light and they loved him for it

He just could NOT apply these skills to family. Perhaps because he loved them all too dearly to put his foot down properly, perhaps because he kept hoping that in the promised land of bliss it would all somehow work out...but his family WAS politics...

And Feanor kinda WAS the favorite, but also the child most obviously in need of care so he got the attention for that too...

Finwe was a good king but a merely alright father, overall

Though he did try

Fëanor

Fêanor would've been, was, a terrible king and Fingolfin was SO right to say so. Fëanáro 'constantly traveling' Curufinwë. Fëanáro 'okay, buckling d- ooh what’s THAT academic/crafting/parental discipline? I bet I can revolutionize it!' Curufinwë (and then he does, of course). Fëanáro “if I sublimate all grief and guilt into victimized rage, I never even have to think about the process” Curufinwë.

This elf had 20 char, 20 int, and 10 wis at best, and alas the char+int made people THINK he'd be a good king when he insisted loudly and eloquently

But they and he were WRONG!

Fëanor has only ever read and/or signed paperwork out of spite

Fëanor would do much better as that Miles Vorkosigan kind of character, where he’s close to the throne, loved dearly and trusted utterly, but not given any sort of desk job, and instead just kind of aimed at problems sometimes while everyone else sits back and waits for the inevitable, hopefully beneficial explosions

Fingolfin

Fingolfin was a good king. He had a natural knack for responsibility, practicality, foresight, complex problems and politics, and if he wasn't as naturally charismatic as Fëanor (no one was) he was still damn compelling, and he worked at building alliances

Fingolfin studied debate like a craft. Fëanor's speeches could rile a crown but Fingolfin's rhetoric could make you forget you'd walked into this room with a different position. The only one who could out-argue him was Anairë

(Fingolfin may or may not have developed entire rhetorical strategies, ie, honed the ability to be antagonizingly calm and logical, for the primary purpose of pissing off Fëanor. It worked.)

The Noldor would do entirely well with Fingolfin as king forever. He wants the job and he wants to do it well, with intelligence and care, so he would. Whatever natural talents he lacks, he appends himself to acquiring. He would even check and balance himself so as to not lose control like either his father or his...Fëanor

(the Ice was a very good time for asking oneself things like “why am I doing this” and “what could I have done better”, and he carefully maintained the habit in Beleriand, and afterward)

Fingolfin thinks he has the capacity to be calm about things but actually it’s a lie that he tells so well he convinces even himself, until he does something like completely snap, personally challenge Morgoth to a duel, and permanently injure him with his dying blow.

Finarfin

Left out of this art but i'm including him anyway! Finarfin never wanted this goddamn job.

Finarfin wanted to live on the beach with his beautiful wife and children, and go home to his family for working holidays (working bc extended birth family). Finarfin is the ONLY child of Finwë born with a natural capacity to be Chill and not need to impress everyone he meets. (Possible other exception: Lalwen.)

Nonetheless, Finarfin rose to the challenge when he needed to, and after centuries of experience he's very good at it. He has a knack for finding the best people to delegate to, which is an UNDERVALUED skill especially in his overachieving family

Finarfin is also the only member of his immediate family who unironically enjoys reading reports and signing paperwork. It’s peaceful. Does nobody else appreciate peaceful things? (They do not.)

Also he's secretly simmering with resentment, rage and vengeance and one day i WILL write about him kicking Morgoth's ass personally, with the help of all his few remaining relatives at the end of the First Age (which wins him a few points with the still-hardline Fëanorians when they get out of Mandos)

(That said, most of Finarfin’s reputation for skilled peace-making in tumultuous early Second Age Valinor was based on him sending his eldest son to talk to the most fiercely squabbling factions, because almost every variation of Elven kindred came out of the First age liking or at least grudgingly respecting Finrod)

skipping the obvious next in line for a moment to talk about Fingon

In an ideal world, Fingon would never have been king

Yes, he was swayed by the idea of exploring new lands and ruling them in his own right - but he was also in his elf!mid-20s and still living with his parents or at least firmly under their dominion, and that of his grandfather and the Valar. Of course so many of these people wanted to get away to somewhere more independent, royalty and not! And it’s inescapably noticeable that when he got to Middle Earth, all his notable acts were as his father’s field general, not as Lord of Dor-lomin - a fief later given to Men anyway - and the great alliance formed during his brief tenure as High King was the Union of Maedhros…

Fingon could be a decent king, if he had to be, but only in the unexplored post-story way that often happens to protagonists after they save the kingdom and get the girl, where in your practical heart you know that they wouldn’t really be able to enact all the reforms one might dream of...

Because Fingon’s proper role in a story isn’t kingship - it’s to be a Hero. He climbs the dark mountain and rescues the missing prince, with a song, a knife and a prayer. He leads the defeat of the orc army and he figures out how to fend off the dragon. He is valiant and a loyal friend; all who meet him know it immediately and cannot help but love him for it.

And for both of these features he challenges the Enemy at his door and so dies, and the High Kingship of the Noldor in Beleriand dies with him

Turgon

...because I love Turgon, I do. Turgon’s natural state is to be an upper-middle-class dad, mayor of a medium-sized town whose re-election is never challenged, who often takes afternoons off to take his daughter to doctor appointments or soccer games. Turgon should get to wear the most expensive jackets in the Land’s End catalogue. Turgon, I think, was a much happier, open person before Elenwë died on the Ice, and he never forgave the Fëanorians for her death, not unto the end of Arda itself. Turgon is a cat person but he’s best friends with a dog person (despite...hiccups) (to Finrod being a dog person; not to their best-friendship)

And Turgon was a great ruler of Gondolin!

But the only reason the Quenta Silmarillion acknowledges him as a High King is that the Quenta Silmarillion was told mostly by a Gondolindrim

Gil-galad

Like Finarfin, Gil-galad spent much of the Second Age trying to pull endlessly fractal factions of elves into a coherently, or at least non-violently, co-habitating community. Finarfin, however, gets to deal with this mostly in continuous drips and drabbles as people re-embody; Gil-galad had this problem ALL AT ONCE from Day One. One day when Gil-galad re-embodies, they’ll amicably debate who had it rougher

Gil-galad also, like Finarfin with Finrod, 100% cheated by sending Elrond to deal with the most fractious factions, because almost every elf left in Middle Earth at the start of the Second Age was vulnerable to Elrond looking authoritatively Disappointed in them. (Gil-galad was vulnerable to Elrond looking Disappointed in him, albeit not so much the ‘authoritative part. Disappointing Elrond was emotionally tantamount to a capital crime.)

Gil-galad was also very good at managing this chaos in his own right, without alienating anyone and even with generally endearing himself to everyone

Despite [checks wordcount] 21k and counting of AU to the contrary, my preferred Gil-galad headcanon is that he was Just Some Guy from Nargothrond who stepped the fuck up after the city fell. He unofficially led and represented the Noldor in Balar and then more officially during the War of Wrath, possibly while deliberately misleading a wide variety of people with a wide variety of implications about his parentage...and afterwards there was a whole public ceremony where Celebrimbor, Elrond, and Galadriel all declared him “king” and “cousin” and the question never really arose again during his reign.

HOWEVER my TRUE Gil-galad belief is expressed in @herenortherenearnorfar’s excellent fic “Five Gil-Galads Walk Into A Bar”, which proposes that no matter what his parentage, Gil-galad would always turn out roughly the same, because the Noldor (and etc. Second Age elves) needed a king and so he became one.

And he was good at it

But when he re-embodies, he content to leave the High Kinging to someone else, and simply take over managing the sub-kingdom of Tol Eressëa (where they welcome him gladly)

(Potential honorable mention: Lalwen

Lalwen, whose characterization is of course based entirely on headcanon, might be Queen of Tol Eressëa for a few thousand years, unless Finrod gets stuck with the job - but I think he more likely centers his life around Tirion, while ofc traveling a great deal?

Lalwen doesn’t want to be queen of anything, but she’s the only member of the House of Finwë who survived Beleriand while remaining in good standing with the Valar—good enough to come home, at least. She can do admin, or at least, she can competently delegate admin. She can do politics, second only to Fingolfin in the family for it - she’s no rhetorician nor speechifier, but she has very good people skills. She wants to help make her people’s, all people’s, lives better wherever she can, and she gets along alright with most varieties of Beleriand veterans, and she’ll do her duty if her little brother asks it... But she just does not want to be the one In Charge. She’s so happy when Gil-galas re-embodies.)

And at last, the poor little orange meow-meow of the First Age…Maedhros

Maedhros is ideal High King of the Noldor, or at least, he would’ve been. First let me tropily ramble a bit:

Just as Fingon should never have been King, Maedhros should never have been forced into such a protagonist-y role. It broke them both. In a story that wasn’t a tragedy, Maedhros would’ve been the tier-1 supporting character whom the hero rescues in Act 1 and who then has a compelling but not central character arc, and at the end we know we’ve won because we’ve put him on the throne while the hero retires to the country and/or runs off to have more lighthearted adventures with their new spouse (and/or stays and marries him, @Fingon if you must.) He’s the Jonathan of Conte. The Roy Mustang. The Rhy Maresh (Shades of Magic trilogy, V.E. Schwab, strong rec.) And then in the next-generation series, he’s a Reasonable Authority Figure who’s secretly badass.

Unfortunately, of course, The Silmarillion is not that story.

But there is, I swear, a Better Timeline out there somewhere wherein they just had more time before Morgoth Ungoliant struck. A timeline where Fëanor and Fingolfin had the opportunity to test a tentative truce without the worst circumstances in the world forcing it into overdrive and then breaking. A timeline where that went about as well as expected (ie, poorly), and Finwë soon put up his hands and said, “Alright, you know what, oh my beloved sons you are both demoted; I’m going on extended vacation and Maitimo is ruling Tirion in my absence” - and it would’ve worked because Fëanor would’ve been pleased that it was at least his son (Nelyafinwë indeed, ha!) and Fingolfin would’ve been satisfied that a) it wasn’t Fëanor, who is infuriating AND objectively bad at the job, and b) at least Finwë was treating them equaly for once

And moreover it would’ve worked because canonically Maedhros is the chief inheritor of Fëanor’s crowd-rousing fire, and he also shows Fingolfin’s practicality and responsibility (and tendency to suicide in extremis), and Finarfin’s ability to humble himself in the name of peace for his collective people...an ability to build eclectic but solid alliances best otherwise demonstrated by Finrod and maybe Finwë himself...let’s mine the raw headcanon and say Lalwen’s stubborn loyalty and determination to make everyone get along, and Findis’s possession of a firm moral compass...

It’s just that, of course, the loyalty and responsibility got twisted somewhere along the way, until the moral compass was first shoved to the bottom of a bag and then tossed out entirely, while his blazing spirit carried others along with him, and the losses from that meant that when push really came to shove on humbling himself for a greater cause, he couldn’t see a glimmer of hope that it would work, and...

Maedhros vibe as a king IS “beloved, must-respected, distinctly older brother who won’t start fights but will end them”

The difference between Maedhros as king and Fingolfin as king is mostly that Maedhros has a slightly greater natural affinity for it, especially the crowd-rousing - he’s got that Fëanorian 20 Charisma while Fingolfin is rocking a mere 19. Practically, there’s very little difference - way less difference than, say, Fëanor is happy with, in terms of how his eldest son and eldest half-brother do politics and project management. But Fingolfin is just slightly more studied at it; Maedhros has had to practice, of course, but he more does (older brothery) kingly things as an unthinking default

As mentioned in another post, I like to think that being a naturally skilled healer has always gone hand in hand with leadership in Arda, and Maitimo was no exception, but Angband and Thangodrim just Broke something in him and he never used Song nor any particular craft to heal anyone ever again...until, perhaps, after much healing in Mandos.

I think Maedhros’s surrender of the crown was clever politics, but also pure practicality in that he was well enough to snark about Thingol, practice clever politics, etc, but he wasn’t well enough yet in body or spirit to handle the job of High King of the Noldor as all their fractious fractions settled into a new life of siege warfare in a strange land. But he got better, and in the wake of Dagor Agraleb, there was a conversation like, Fingolfin: You seem very well again, nephew. Maedhros: I am, thank you for noticing, Uncle. Fingolfin: Are we going to have a problem about that? Maedhros: Fingolfin: Maedhros: Maedhros: No. Maedhros: But, weirdly thank you for asking.

...But if everyone gets re-embodied eventually, changed forever but newly healthy in it, and has until the end of Arda to gravitate toward the personal ideal forms of their lives...well, for entertainment’s sake, I like to think that Maedhros come out of Mandos very determined to be nothing but a responsible older brother, publicly deferential vassal, and world’s best one-handed house-husband...but these people over here could also use some Responsible Older Brothering...and these people over here...and Fingon doesn’t want to sit in this committee but someone sensible ought to...if no one steps up and manages this new bridge project, it’s never going to get done...Uncle, have you tried this to make the bronzesmiths and the pewtersmiths stop fighting...

One day late(?) Fourth Age, Maedhros is trying to pick the perfect jewelry to match today’s court outfit and Arafinwë pokes his head in to be like, “here, try this” and hands him the High King crown. Maedhros says, “Oh, perfect– wait–” Arafinwë is already sprinting away shouting, “No takebacks! Eärwen and I will be on the beach!”

BUT I also think that sometime in the late Second Age, the semi-meritocratic, ever-insquabbling (like infighting but pettier) artisan guilds of the Noldor, + some political philosophers, give rise to the idea of general democratic elections for high office. So it’s probably a little more complicated than that.

#the silmarillion #finwe #feanor #fingolfin #finarfin #fingon #turgon #gil-galad #maedhros #lalwen #feanor and feanor's kin #eldar #headcanon accepted #ficlet #i DID start bullet-pointing more info about noldorin election politics but i think that'll be separate

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whentherewerebicycles · 1 year

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somehow it’s noon already!! but it’s been a productive morning. in my earlier research i’d been so focused on their first-gen numbers i somehow missed or didn’t fully register the fact that fully 40% of this school’s incoming students each year are transfer students from two-year colleges, which is obviously !!! a specific student population with unique needs that i should be prepared to address in whatever presentation i put together! so i did some initial research and reading in the secondary literature + then also reached out to two former advisees who transferred from community colleges and always had a lot to say about the types of support structures they wished they’d had. they were v happy to help so i set up calls with them tomorrow and on wednesday so i can pick their brains on how to effectively engage & support transfer students in undergraduate research. i made a promise to myself earlier in the week that i would only do rabbithole-style research if it felt like the topics would’ve been fascinating to me even if i didn’t have this interview, but i actually DO find this question super interesting and it’s also a fun excuse to reconnect with former students i haven’t caught up with in a while.

also man i just feel really happy and so much more like myself when i’m in this mode. my brain is WORKING again! i’m overflowing again with thoughts and ideas! i do think that trying a job outside of academia was a valuable life experience for me... and i do realize that this particular job is not representative of ALL non-academic jobs (if i didn’t have such a difficult manager i might’ve been able to stick it out here a lot longer). but also: i feel like you gotta pay attention to what energizes you vs. drains you in this life! and i am so energized by teaching, mentoring, program design, and doing any kind of research on those topics. i also feel my heart LEAPING at the thought of being immersed in a university community again. it’s funny because i get all the petty academic politics stories from macky and i knoooow how difficult & prickly & impossible academics can be but idk! as far as lightly dysfunctional work environments go, i find this form of dysfunction familiar and comforting! and i feel like the joy of working with students is sufficient recompense for the at-times harrowing experience of working with other academics lol. i’m just ready to be back in a place that i love and i’m really excited about this school in particular.

i was rereading the job posting earlier this week and thinking about how much more work it’s going to be than my current barely-anything job, which i know will probably cut into my loooong leisurely walks and my hours-long cooking sessions and my ability to lie around in bed for hours every day. it’s been nice in some ways to have so much time to do non-work things and to really get myself into good routines with cooking/exercising/etc, but i just DO NOT THRIVE when i have too much unstructured time and i am really, really starved for the casual friendly daily social contact i got from my old job. i feel like too much unstructured time = more time wasted because the time doesn’t feel valuable to me.

and idk i need people time! i need relationships with others! i need it both in a social energy and in an intellectual way... like, my conversations with students and the interpersonal conflicts you have to navigate and the unexpected things that come up in a teaching/mentoring relationship provide so much grist for the ol’ reflective mill. i feel like part of the reason i’ve felt sooooo bored and so annoyingly self-absorbed the past six or seven months is that i just don’t have enough INPUT you know?? i need all those interactions to spark new ways of thinking about something or new ideas or new interests to research. otherwise i’m just stuck in my own head, endlessly turning over my small cares and petty little resentments, without anything to challenge me or push me out of myself or force me to recalibrate the way i’m viewing a situation. anyway idk it’s all good data! as i am always telling students even bad or meh experiences can teach you something useful about who you are & what you need to thrive!!

#personal #i think i will mostly hibernate today as i am going to do TWO social things tomorrow #i'm gonna put aside campus visit research for a bit because i'm trying to put parameters around how much time i spend on it #i'd like to finish this novel today (it's so good!)#and i want to leave comments on two fics (i keep saying that and then not doing it but today i really want to do it!)#and i'd like to run a mile to a mile and a half outside - just an easy slow run since i did run yesterday too #and then if it's not raining i think i want to take the dogs on that 90+ min loop to the new trail system we found #i might do that first and then do the mile after i haven't decided

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westcoastrry · 3 years

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Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

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wordynerdygurl · 3 years

Text

Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note: This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series. This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing: Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary: You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings: SMUT ahead. General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required. There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!” You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table. The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close. You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students! And of course, to you Mr. Harris. How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good. I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will. You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles! You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.” That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen! Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?” You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help. You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh! Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards? I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.” Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey! The Simpsons are fine art, ok? Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles. If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture! The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point. Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art. No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander. You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different. Wait. They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum. It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right! About the art, not the dishy Italian. And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.” Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration. “Wouldn’t paint be easier? I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh! Oh! I know this! The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!” Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct. In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude. Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves. I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew. Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles. Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well. It’s not Grecian at all, is it? It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right. The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!” Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare. Very difficult to find documentation.” Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh. Gym class for me. Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough. And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles! Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so. I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me. I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa? Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.” Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting. Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.” Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit. He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see. Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something. If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.” Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself. Right behind Mr. Giles? What a place to be. Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him. He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship. True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid. Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense. Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not. As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true! You should see what some of them turn in and call art. It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks. You liked it. It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting. You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?" Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir. "Hmm... Oh, yes. I was able to study in Mexico for a semester. Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent. Carefully made. Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back. You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water. Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright. In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space. Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge. When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs. Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt. Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties. Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away. He was so close now. Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it. Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat. Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too. And why shouldn’t he? “Giles?” Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt. It’s… uh, caught. Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens! I’m so sorry, let me help you.” Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary. He was still in your space. Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks. All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest. Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent. It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you. “Yea, yes. Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch. Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer. Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals. Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there. If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.” Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles. All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in. The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you. A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert? Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard. It was then that you realized exactly where you were. Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my! I’m so-” “No, No. Please, don’t apologize. I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump. Right here…” Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles! All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles. Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?” Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw. Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.” And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you. Something about it was so… sinful. So dark. So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely. Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair. Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.” Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top. Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern. Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra. “Giles… Uh, Ripper! Please, go easy?” With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher. And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you. Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper. Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.” Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know? You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.” And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers. Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you. For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear! Poor thing been kissed senseless?” He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please! Please, Ripper! Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then. Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt. Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle. When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes. Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out. I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.” You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you. They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch. Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need. Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm. That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper." And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core. Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center. With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected. Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over. In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain. He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear. "I want you to cum for me. Do you understand? Tell me you understand." "Yes! Yes! I'm so close, Ripper! So close!" "Good. That's very good." Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide. You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised. His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it. The moment your body and his melded together was forceful. It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained. Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good? In your post coital haze you started to laugh. Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in. It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes. Ripper. My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did. Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair. Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary. After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia. Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely. Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about. Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks. Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library. I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged. Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That. That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye? I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back. We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf! Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it. Come on Xander. You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee. That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner? My place? You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight? Um…" "He'd love to! Say 9 o'clock? And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great! Awesome! I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles. You can't wear that outfit to dinner! You need to look nice. Nicer than you do now. Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn. You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock. Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story. I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though! Minxes: @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote

#giles #rupert giles #rupert giles x you #giles x you #hot characters you forgot about #rupert giles smut #giles smut #buffy fanfiction

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kraviolis · 3 years

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sorting the owl house characters into hogwarts houses, because im cringe

luz - ravenclaw

she’s creative and clever and is always searching to learn new things and loves learning just for the sake of learning. shes incredibly witty and quick thinking and open-minded. she’s constantly finding clever, creative, and original ways to solve her problems. she hardly blinked when given the opportunity to learn magic, and only continued to show an intense amount of intelligence and appreciation for academics. shes very resourceful as a human learning magic, finding a entirely new form of magic when it was apparent that she couldnt do it the traditional way. she’s very aspiring, wanting to be a witch and an author since she was very young. she’s very logical about a lot of things, like how it doesnt make sense to not allow witches to study multiple tracks or that people were imprisoned just for being themselves. she’s highly encouraging of individuality which is a lesser known trait of ravenclaw but very important. she can be a perfectionist at times and tended to avoid social interaction so she could persue her creativity. she’s outspoken, an overthinker, and very competitive. i think a lot of people might say she’s a hufflepuff, as she’s loyal and kind and hardworking, but luz values learning and creativity above any of those other things— this is evident, when she makes the decision to stay in the boiling isles to learn magic rather than go home to her mom, thus putting knowledge and creativity over her own family.

eda - gryffindor

she’s not afraid to stand up for herself and others and will never back down from a challenge. she would rather die as herself than live unauthentically. she’s very passionate and empathetic. she’s rebellious against rules that dont make sense to her and cares intensely for her friends and family. she has a strong internal moral code that she sticks to intensely, never straying from it. in the very first episode, she breaks into the conformatorium just to get a paper crown thats important to king. she let raine break up with her because she didnt want to burden them with her curse. she forfeited the match with lily because she knew her sister wanted to be in the emperor’s coven more than she ever did. she’s sacrifices herself for luz & king over and over again because she cares so deeply for her.

king - slytherin

he’s self-centered, smart, arrogant, and highly ambitious. he would do anything to achieve his goals— which was at first reclaiming his throne as the king of demons, and then turned into finding out where he came from. he tried to use luz as a means to reach his goals when he became an author, nearly sacrificing their friendship. he became incredibly loyal to luz after that in the same way he’s loyal to eda, the one who raised him.

(other characters under the cut)

lily - slytherin

it was between this and ravenclaw, because she’s incredibly intelligent and does seem to enjoy learning and has a great mind, she’s also incredibly ambitious and prideful. the deciding factor was that she cursed eda just to reach her own goals. she’s still loyal to eda even when working for belos, which says a lot to how she’s loyal to only a select few people. to her, the ends justify the means (making amity cheat to appear like the better teacher, cursing eda to win the duel, kidnapping luz to get belos to cure eda, losing her magic to help eda)

amity - gryffindor

this one was hard, i swapped between slytherin and gryffindor a lot for her. she’s ambitious and intelligent, but also not afraid to do whats right even if means breaking the rules. she’s self-sacrificing and empathetic and prideful. she ended her friendship with boscha to help luz and willow win. she didnt like luz at first because luz kept cheating and messing up her life, which means she has a strong moral code against cheating and bullies. she’s rebellious in small ways at first but once she started realizing how terrible her parents and belos really were, she pulled away extremely quickly.

willow - slytherin

not surprising, if you take into her account of self-preservation and bending of the rules to suit her ambitions. in the first episode she agrees to cheating just to get ahead in school because she wants to make her parents proud, and in the end she switches to the plants track so to her the ends justify the means. she pulled out of the grudgby game when luz pushed her & gus too far, a perfect example of that self preservation. she has a sense of loyalty that extends to very specific people but she always makes sure those people are taken care of. her parents, luz, gus, and eventually king, eda, and amity, too. she wouldn’t die for them, but she would kill for them.

gus - hufflepuff

sure, he has the ravenclaw curiousity and thirst for knowledge, but he’s very kind, hard working, has a strong inner sense of justice and fairness, and is tolerant of others. he helps mattholomule even if he’d been a jerk before because it was unfair if he didnt. he helps luz break into belos’s castle to find a cure for eda, lets luz borrow his library card to see amity, and hated it when mattholomule tried to lie about the human objects. he knows what it feels like to be left behind and underestimated, so he makes an effort to be kind to others who seem to be in the same boat. he’s very young but already so accomplished which is a testament to how hard he works.

hunter - hufflepuff

this one was HARD. it was either slytherin or this, and a deciding factor for this is the fact that he is self-sacrificing. he sacrifices a lot for other people, even if it doesnt seem like it. in the palisman episode, he sacrifices the palismen getting away despite knowing he would be punished for returning empty-handed. in eclipse lake, he leaves to find the titans blood for belos when he simply could have stayed in the castle and been safe. he’s viciously hard-working, dedicated, and loyal to his family. he lets people’s actions speak for them. he doesn’t immediately judge luz for using wild magic and actually seems interested in it before remembering to be loyal to belos. he’s patient, too, as seen by his interactions with luz. he gets frustrated, sure, but he still works with her. he’s modest about his rank and title, preferring to not flaunt it more than needed. but he does take pride in it. he’s kind in his own way, specifically to belos and lil rascal, but you can see it in his interactions with amity & luz, too. with amity, he empathizes with her and gives her advice that he thinks is true, and offers to dig a grave for her too when its apparent that neither of them are getting any titans blood. with luz, he gives up the palismen and protects her from kikimora. that boy is a hufflepuff for sure.

raine - gryffindor

oh buddy theyre the biggest gryffindor ever. they extremely, extremely brave. they have terrible stage fright and anxiety but they still became head bard, and they still ran an underground resistance group, and they still gave everything up just to help eda. they have a strong sense of whats right and whats wrong and incredible amount of passion, empathy, and integrity. they have a great sense of pride— “How did someone with stage fright end up as Head Witch?” “I’m just that good.”— and are very selfless. they stopped eda from sacrificing herself because they knew her kids needed her more, they sacrificed themselves in eda’s place and gave up everything they had just so eda wouldnt have to.

camila - hufflepuff

she’s extraordinarily kind, even when she’s terrified. she’s accepting and open-minded and hardworking, making sure to show luz that she loves her creativity but still wants to make sure luz can do well in school and can make friends. sometimes you can do something you think is kind but isnt really. she’s also a single mother doing her best to give her daughter a good life, which is a credit to how hard she works and how dedicated she is to her daughter. she even took the day off of work to drive luz to camp because she knew luz was anxious and wanted to reassure her. she’s patient with luz, and even when faced with the scariest moment of her life, she’s still thinking of how luz feels rather than her own fears and anger. she’s very much a hufflepuff in the way that she’s quiet and unassuming but fiercely protective of her family.

vee - slytherin

she’s opportunistic and has a sense of self-preservation. she’d rather save her own skin than do that right thing. she’s cunning, having pretended to be camila’s daughter just to have a place for herself. this isnt a bad thing at all, though. she’s also loyal to camila, who she sees as her family, and even got into a fight with luz over how she treated camila. she still listened to luz and let luz help her so that vee could remain living as luz. she doesnt feel guilty about valuing herself ahead of luz.

belos - ravenclaw

honestly? not a hard decision. he’s smart, sure, but he’s not people-smart. he didnt think lilith would betray him after he admitted to lying about healing eda. he doesnt understand loyalty, not even to those close to him. he’s rational and logical rather than emotional. if the theory that he is philip wittebane is to be believed, then its obvious he has an appreciation for learning and knowledge. belos distinctly reminds me of lockhart, or even quirrell, who were also in ravenclaw. he’s got an arrogance to him that blinds him, believing himself to be the smartest and strongest witch on the isles and thus underestimating others, which will only lead him to ruin.

#the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #amity blight #krav talks #my writing #character analysis

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coulson-is-an-avenger · 4 years

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Good evening tma fans I’m back with more ace jonmartin content (that is also posted to AO3). Set during the safehouse because it’s good for Conversations. Have at thee:

Jon loves Martin. He has for so long now that it feels like it’s always been the truth, like if you were to go back to the start of the world, there would lie a stone with two names carved side by side, belonging there even millennia before their existence. It feels like a fact etched into his very bones, so deeply grounding that the force of it alone was enough to tear through the veil of fog and supernatural loneliness and bring him out unscathed, and with his prize. Orpheus reversed. A love stronger than Loneliness. A truth imprinted on his heart. Jon loves Martin.

And Martin knows, too. He saw the way Jon felt about him, the way he knew him with such love, the way he remembered him so thoroughly it was able to bring him back to himself after months of nothingness. He knows the curtain of the Lonely doesn’t part for just anyone. And then, of course, Jon has taken his hand and held it to his chest and wept his affections not a day later, when the tide finally broke and all of his despair and trust came tumbling out at once, and Martin’s still fog-rimmed eyes spilled over with tears and they held each other as confession after confession poured from each of them. Jon had told Martin he loved him so many times his throat had hurt, and Martin had held him so tightly his arms had shaken. Jon loves Martin, and Martin loves him in return, just as fiercely. Being loved is slowly starting to come naturally to Martin again.

The point is, though, that Jon loves Martin. And Martin knows. Which means at some point, they are going to have to talk about It.

Jon has avoided talking about It for years. He talked about it with Georgie, of course. She had been the one to help him gather more words to describe it. Asexual, sex repulsed, uninterested, etc.

It hadn’t always mattered, though. Not everyone was willing to care about something they saw as trivial, something he was still desperately trying to convince himself wasn’t trivial. And there were always the rare few who saw it as a challenge. Some days, the hope that he would be fully respected and loved for who he was seemed like a lost cause.

But he knows better now. He knows himself well enough to be certain, even these days, when grasping onto his very humanity feels like trying to drink from a mirage. He is certain about this, though. This has been long, long something he’s known about himself; a truth that he will acknowledge as nothing but the truth. A part of him. It is something to be proud of. Something he deserves to be loved for. And it is also something he very much so needs to communicate with Martin.

It hasn’t really come up yet, not since their frantic packing and desperate drive all the way to Scotland, Jon clinging onto the passenger assist grip as Martin does his best to get them there quickly, and then their exhausted unpacking in the safehouse, and the emotionally draining last few days they’ve had. It’s overwhelming, being in each other’s constant company, in a way that largely feels utterly mundane.

They gather groceries together at the shop, brush hands over plates at the sink, curl up together to ward off the nightmares in bed, do their best to clean every inch of the house they can reach, and try to acclimatize to each other as the days continue. Martin is still breaking himself into connection; sometimes halting too sharply in his words, sometimes forgetting to speak for hours at a time, shifting invisible when he gets distracted enough, and Jon is still hesitant, not quite sure what to do to make it better, not quite sure if a false step will make it worse. He’d go back into the Lonely for Martin a thousand times if it meant saving him, but he doesn’t want Martin to lose himself again. Most times, Martin is as vibrant as his early days at the institute, but on others Jon still catches whiffs of the sterilized smell of the Lonely in Martin’s wake. Those times, his hands always linger on Martin’s as they brush. Every moment has been full of comfort, of the reassurance that they are both still there, of light topics, and of forgiveness when it is needed.

Jon loves Martin. He wants Martin to know. There just hasn’t been the right chance for it yet.

He’s convinced himself to just let it come up naturally whenever Martin is free enough of the fog to let himself sink into open affection, but, as it turns out, he needn’t have agonized about it.

It’s a good day for Martin, today. He’s been talkative, warm, and his eyes are shining with that look that’s so hopelessly earnest and alive it makes Jon’s heart want to beat entirely out of his chest. They’ve taken the day to trade questions and answers over cooking and cleaning and relaxing, and now, as Martin slides tonight’s meal into the oven, he decides the questions aren’t quite over.

“So, Jon,” Martin begins from the kitchen, in a tone that’s so genuinely casual it's almost surprising. “What are your thoughts on sex?”

Jon blinks in utter surprise, torn away from his book with a start as the words register in his head. His traitorous stomach drops out of habit. Oh, Christ. Is this it? Are they doing this now? Is he ready for this? His hands hesitate over the page he’s bookmarked with his thumb, not sure if this is just going to be a simple answer, or if Martin means this as a gateway to a full conversation about the topic. “L-Like, in general?”

“I mean, there was gossip at the Institute,” Martin offers apologetically, ducking his head and wiping his hands on a towel. He looks slightly sheepish from where Jon can see him. “Some talk about you and Basira awhile back, for a bit, and later Melanie mentioned something about you just not, but both of those were, y’know, gossip, and I just realized I’ve never actually asked you personally what your feelings were on the matter, so… yeah. In general.” As he rambles, he makes his way over to the couch where Jon is sitting, bending down to rest his arms on the back of it. His face is open and curious, but not oppressively so. Jon has to fight the familiar urge to set all thought and action aside to simply stare at him.

Jon instead puts his book off to the side and inhales. This is a conversation that deserves his full attention.

“Well,” he fumbles for a place to start. He hasn’t perfected a speech, doesn’t have all the proper sources planned, but he might as well start by giving Martin the honesty he deserves; the kind Jon has been preparing for. “I… suppose generally opposed? I-I mean, not for-“ He bites back the word “normal” as he stutters over his explanation, trying not to feel like he’s pulling his own teeth as he speaks. His own words feel somehow foreign to him, even more so these days, but for Martin, he’s trying. “Not for other people, I mean, but for me? I’m really just not interested. Too much …touching and exposure and- and noises? Not to mention all the expectations it comes with. Honestly, it… sounds kind of dreadful.”

Martin makes a small noise of attentiveness. “Never tried it, then?”

Jon goes sort of cold, all over, a bone deep chill curling deep inside his gut, and he has to manually force himself to unfreeze and choose his words carefully. “I have not. And I can’t quite say I’d have any interest in doing so.” His tone is clipped, defensive, and cold. He tries to keep himself from glaring out of habit.

“Why do you sound so—“ Martin’s tone starts teasing, and then breaks off as he catches a glance of Jon’s terrified expression and his eyes widen. “OH!! Oh, no, I wasn’t- sorry, that came out wrong. I was just curious to sort of… compare experiences, I wasn’t implying any sort of… no.” He waves a hand as if to physically dismiss Jon’s anxiety. “Never having tried it is fine. Good, even! Good on you for knowing your boundaries. I’m happy for that.” He rambles. “That’s wonderful. Sorry.”

Jon flushes slightly in embarrassment that he misread the tone, but his chest loosens a bit. No one has ever told him that before, and it feels… nothing short of radical. Safe. “It’s- it’s alright, Martin.” Jon drums his fingers against the book cover resting against his belly for a moment, his thoughts shifting to wonder what the point to the conversation is if not to… well… he shoos away theories. This is Martin, he can just ask. “What do you mean ‘compare experiences’?” He sits up more, now curious himself. “Martin, do you… what are your thoughts on it? Sex, I mean. In general.” It always comes out sounding much more academic than he intends, and he pursues his lips against his own pronunciation, even though Martin doesn’t seem to notice.

Martin blinks a bit. “Oh! Hm. Well, it’s— I suppose a bit complicated? I dunno.” He rubs a hand over the back of his head, brushing through the regrowing hair at the nape of his neck. “If it makes the other person happy then, yeah I’m all for it, but it’s more of just… an activity to me, I guess? Never really been quite my favorite one either, to be perfectly honest.” The chuckle he gives sounds just shy of self-depreciating, and Jon finds himself reaching a hand up to catch Martin’s for reassurance. Martin takes it, gives a slight squeeze. “That’s not to say that I’ve had a bad experience, necessarily? I just… I’d rather be closer in other ways.” He shrugs, and his eyes drop. “Feels kind of weird, honestly. Knowing I’ve done it. I mean, I always figured I’m not really the kind of person you’d assume to be having it, and I’m fine with that. I dunno.”

The loosening thing in Jon’s chest unfurls completely, melting into affection. “Oh, Martin.” He hesitates, thinking, before looking up and giving Martin a very curious look. “You’re… like me, aren’t you?”

Martin looks up and meets his eyes dead on, as a small, shy smile pulls at his lips, his eyes going warm and soft before he ducks away, somewhat hiding his face. “Yeah, I think so.”

Jon loves Martin.

“What’s…” Jon’s face flushes, but he’s already spoken the first word aloud, and he doubts his curiosity will allow him to back out, so he clears his throat and continues on. “You said you’d rather be closer to people in o-other ways?” He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “What might those be?”

Martin squishes his face in that adorable way he does when he’s thinking, lips pressing together in a little motion that Jon can’t help but find hopelessly endearing. “I guess… doing things for people? Something to let them know that you really see them,” his eyes dart to Jon for a half a moment as he says that, before continuing on. “or… I dunno. Activities together? Spending time with someone is always nice. And…hugs, honestly.” He laughs at himself, but Jon is listening intently. “I know that sounds kind of silly, I know, but…”

“It’s not silly,” Jon interrupts, pushing himself up into a standing position, a look of softness coming across his face as he latches onto an idea and softens with everything in him. “In that case, Martin, can I…?” He’s standing up from the couch, and walking around to the back, arms opening in a hesitant invitation. Martin’s eyes widen, and then soften.

“Oh, sure. Yeah, of course.”

Jon loves Martin. He wants to show him in all the ways he can, and so Jon wraps his arms around Martin, one hand reaching up to stroke through his hair, fingers catching on his curls, while the other pulls his chest tight with Jon’s, heartbeats resonating in sync. Martin’s hands come to rest on the small of Jon’s back, and, despite his height, he exhales slowly in relaxation.

He fidgets after a second, signaling the polite time for an embrace to end, but Jon just wraps his arms around him tighter, pressing his nose into Martin’s neck, and running his hand through his hair until Martin finally stops waiting for it to end, and lets himself relax into it. His arms loosen around Jon’s waist, but he drops his head against Jon’s shoulder, and Jon does everything he can to make Martin feel wrapped up in the enormity of his own affection. Martin lets out a sigh into his shoulder, and Jon’s heart swells in its lopsided rib cage. He wishes he could replace the missing ribs with Martin, to keep him closer to his heart, or better yet, to do away with the whole thing altogether, and simply trust Martin to take his chest in his hands.

Safe. He wants to keep Martin safe. And he trusts Martin to keep him safe as well. He drags a hand over his back, trying to fit as much protectiveness he can into the gesture. You are so loved, he wants it to say. Nothing can hurt you. There’s no expectations in the embrace, no pressure or next step. It’s just this moment, just heartbeats, just Jon making space for Martin in his arms. It’s perfect.

“This is nice.” Martin murmurs, nothing more than a soft exhale, and Jon loves him more than he knows how to understand.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #tma fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #asexuality #ace martin blackwood #my writing #hugs are the peak of physical intimacy and nothing can change my mind

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wheresmynaya · 3 years

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Hate to Date Ch.8 | Brittana

A/N - These next two chapters are probably some of the more difficult ones I've written so far for this story so be gentle LOL. Also, I've noticed readers saying in their reviews lately that these weekly updates are like waiting for a new episode of a fav tv show and I love that. One of the things I miss about Glee or whatever show I’m obsessed with is having something to look forward to each week so I'm really happy this story offers you all that kind of comfort! Hopefully I can keep it up 💙

Before you read on, consider treating your local fav fic writer with a coffee through Ko-Fi!

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

When Saturday rolls around, Santana putters around the apartment attempting to busy herself with meaningless tasks – anything that’ll keep her from anxiously watching the clock. She lounges in her sweatpants and a tank top all day, switching from vegging out on the couch to catching up on some coursework, but it gets harder for her to resist the urge to check the time the later it gets.

No matter what she does, no matter the many distractions she tries piling on – she can’t help but cave.

She can’t help but think about Brittany.

When Puck gets home a little later from hanging out with a couple guys from his team, he finds Santana close to falling asleep on the couch. He takes in the lazy clothes she wears, the messy hair, the sea of snacks that surrounds her and lifts a brow.

“What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” Santana snarks.

“It looks like you’ve just gone through a rough break up.”

Santana shoots him a look, “I’m clearly having a lazy day.”

He glances from her to the tv screen and back to her again, “Is that what you call it?”

“Yeah,” Santana replies and averts her eyes as she tugs on her blanket. “You can either join or scram.”

Puck rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote. When the screen shuts off, Santana lets out a huff but Puck only crosses his arms.

“What the hell?” She snaps. “I was watching that!”

“So?” Puck challenges.

“So turn it back on.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick your ass.”

Puck barks out a laugh, “I’d like to see you try. Go ahead.”

Santana doesn’t move, “I don’t have the energy for this.”

“You’re so damn frustrating,” Puck shakes his head.

The comment makes Santana falter a little; it makes her think about Brittany again, it makes her think about how she let her down, it makes her think about how it made her feel to watch the blonde run away.

But Brittany isn’t here, it’s Puck and Santana knows he doesn’t scare off too easily.

“Just leave me alone,” Santana grumbles.

Of course, Puck doesn’t.

“Are you seriously not going tonight?”

Santana clenches her jaw as the anxious feeling returns. It didn’t take much but she’s wavering and she knows it. Puck probably knows it too or else he wouldn’t be here pressing her buttons still.

“I told you I can’t go,” She tells him defiantly. “I’d only ruin her night. She doesn’t need that, no one does. It’s better if I stay here.”

“Bullshit,” Puck disputes. “You don’t know that.”

Santana stays quiet, she can feel her foundation cracking.

“I do know that,” She says. “You saw how pissed she was when she left. I’d just make things worse if I go.”

Puck sighs tiredly, “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“That,” Puck tries to explain. “It’s just like high school – you’re taking yourself out of the game before you even play it.”

That strikes a nerve with Santana, “That’s not what happened and you know it. This is so much different.”

“You gave up then,” Puck tells her. “And you’re giving up now. Why? I don’t know. This should be way easier for you. There’s no scholarship on the line or this big scary secret you need to help hide. You’re not even in love with the girl this time but here you are sitting on the damn bench.”

Santana shrinks back. She doesn’t want to talk about the past, she doesn’t want it mixing in with her present so she deflects, “Can you stop with the ridiculous sports metaphors?”

“No. Now get your ass up,” Puck huffs as he pulls off the blanket Santana covers herself with.

“Goddamn it, Puckerman! Cut the shit!”

“You first, Lopez!”

This time, Santana rises to her feet. She faces Puck head on and glares. Her fists are tight and her chest aches with rage and something else, something she’s tried so many times to push away.

“You know what you have to do,” Puck says. “Stop with the excuses and just go do it already. Quit being a little punk about it.”

“I’m not being a punk,” Santana grumbles.

Puck laughs as he waves his hand at her mess, “All this because Britt finally called you out on your shit? Come on, you’re better than that.”

Santana tenses her jaw again but Puck only softens as he puts his heavy hands on her shoulders, going into total pep talk mode. Santana tries to squirm away, but Puck steadies her like always.

No one would ever expect that this guy, the one with a ratty mohawk, could be the voice of reason for Santana but he’s never failed her before. Just like her, he doesn’t back down. He sticks by her even when she’s being a stubborn dumbass and if anyone needs someone in their life like that it’s Santana.

“I know you,” He says solemnly. “Going to this thing tonight is a piece of cake, all you have to do is quit selling yourself short and go.”

Santana’s shoulders drop even further as Puck continues.

“Prove yourself wrong and kill it,” He says. “You owe it to yourself and you owe it to Brittany.”

There’s an uneasiness still but Santana can’t lie and say Puck’s words didn’t ignite something within her. It goes without saying that his words have had an impact. She bats off his hands and glances at the time, frowning when she sees how late it has gotten.

“I don’t think I can make it in time,” Santana says. “I can’t get ready in forty minutes. My hair alone takes at least an hour.”

“Well what’s that saying?” Puck questions. “Better late than never?”

Santana sighs through a small smile, “I mean, I do like to make an entrance.”

Puck smirks, “Then you better get going.”

Santana’s used to walking into parties like she owns the place, but she finds herself struggling as she approaches the entrance of the Brainiacs’ Ball. She stares up at the prominent steps flanked by solid columns and has never felt so small in all her life. She’s way out of her comfort zone, but she takes the first step anyway.

Slowly, she puts one foot in front of the other. She can feel the low thrum of the bass from the music inside before she can actually hear it. At least that’s something she’s a little more familiar with and with that in mind, she continues her journey.

Maybe Puck was right? This is a piece of cake!

When she reaches the top and looks back, she finds Puck still waiting at the bottom of the stairs watching on like a proud soccer mom. He catcalls at her loudly and it causes the last of the guests making their way inside to stare.

Santana scrunches her face and waves him away, not wanting to be embarrassed by how he sticks out like a sore thumb in his ripped jeans and jersey. He gets the message though and gives her one last round of thumbs up before heading off.

Though she tries to play it off like she can’t stand his dorkiness, she’s thankful for that little bit of extra support and finds enough courage to walk into the building with her head held high.

She might not feel like she owns the place right now, but that’ll change by the end of the night!

Santana knew it was a black tie affair, but she really didn’t expect such extravagance.

There’s a great crystal chandelier hanging from above casting iridescent shadows across the lobby, spotless marbled floors speckled with flecks of gold, the ruby red carpet leading the way into the grand hall where guests dressed to kill mingle with champagne flutes in their hands.

All that’s missing are the annoying paparazzi and the blinding flashes from their cameras and she’d feel like she was at some gaudy Hollywood party.

It’s like she just walked into one of the parties Maribel’s firm throws for holidays and she so wasn’t expecting that. Although she’s been to many of those, she still feels a little out of place as she makes her way through the double doors.

“Good evening,” The doorman greets politely before extending a gloved had to the party. “Welcome to the Brainiacs’ Ball.”

Santana smiles in return and heads in. She tries to keep an eye out for Brittany all while trying to wrap her head around the fact that all of this is in celebration of a handful of academic decathlon clubs.

Who the hell knew they got down like this? Even their DJ has great music playing! Santana’s so surprised, almost distractingly so but then she spots a familiar someone in the crowd.

Brittany

There’s a sudden sense of relief but it’s soon replaced with a frown as Santana finds that the girl isn’t alone. She’s with some tall guy; Santana can’t really see that far to tell who it is or if she knows him. All she knows is that Brittany is standing with him and she’s laughing.

He’s making her laugh.

Santana’s frown deepens before she squints her eyes, trying to get a better look at the guy. Like the others here, he’s dressed to the nines in a dashing suit with his black hair slicked back.

Okay, whatever – he can clean up well. Santana can too! But the important question is, what’s he doing with Brittany?

She ducks behind a vase of flowers, peering through the gaps in the leaves so Brittany doesn’t spot her. She only briefly thinks about how ridiculous she must look before other guests unknowingly happen to block her view.

Frustrated, she tries ducking and dodging them but even in her stilettos she’s just too short. She’ll need to get closer if she wants to see what this guy’s deal is, but as she makes her way over she can’t help but think: did Brittany really replace her?

Surely not, that would definitely raise suspicion. She wouldn’t do that.

Would she?

Suddenly, a waiter dressed formally in a suit and tie steps in Santana’s path. There’s a silver tray full of champagne flutes atop his hand and he looks to Santana expectantly.

“Champagne?”

Santana takes one last look at Brittany and that guy and goes for a glass.

“Yeah, sure.” She takes one and downs it in two gulps.

The waiter raises his brows in awe and quickly goes to turn away, but Santana stops him.

“Hold up,” She says and puts down her empty glass in favor of taking two more. She smiles sweetly at him in thanks before getting her game face on. She finds herself thinking about what Puck said before and starts to fill with confidence – no more sitting on the sidelines for her!

Santana saunters over to Brittany with determination in her eyes.

It’s go time.

“There you are!” Santana greets cheerfully as she reaches Brittany with a champagne flute in each hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Brittany stops mid-sentence, her face pale as if she’s just seen a ghost.

“You’re here.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it,” Santana replies as she hands her the spare flute before pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. She looks up at pretty blue eyes and adds, “I know how important this night is for you.”

Brittany blinks, it’s like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Santana thinks she’s off to a good start so far – naturally – and sizes up the guy Brittany was talking to before she came over.

“And who are you?” She asks with a slight bite to her tone as she wraps her arm around Brittany’s waist.

He falters as he looks back and forth between her and Brittany, “I’m Mike.”

Santana lifts her brow challengingly, but Brittany steps in to add.

“He’s a friend of mine.”

Santana continues to stare at the guy, “Friend.”

“Yeah,” Brittany glances at her with slight confusion but it quickly disappears as she slips into character too. “I was just telling him you weren’t feeling too good and that you probably wouldn’t make it tonight.”

“Right,” Santana replies. Her smile turns devilish, “Well I appreciate the concern but I’m all better now, Mike.”

He looks a little nervous but nods, “That’s good to hear.”

“Mhmm,” Santana brings her glass to her lips. She maintains eye contact with him while she threads her fingers with Brittany’s and sips her champagne slowly.

“Well Britt, I’m gonna go,” He says hesitantly to Brittany before jutting a thumb over his shoulder. “I want to make sure we grab a good seat. I’ll see you over at the table.”

“Okay cool,” Brittany smiles. “See you there.”

“It was nice finally meeting you, Santana,” Mike says kindly to the brunette before disappearing into the crowd.

Santana watches him go as she takes another sip. This Mike character really changed up his tune once Santana was around – all nice and polite. He wasn’t fooling her though! Trying to steal her fake girlfriend, not today!

“He’s gone,” Brittany says gruffly. “You can let go of my hand now.”

“Oh sorry,” Santana pulls away and glances in the direction Mike went. “So he’s attractive…what’s he doing at a place like this?”

Brittany doesn’t even smile, “You know not everyone with a brain looks like Steve Urkel.”

Santana doesn’t notice Brittany’s dismissive tone as she looks around. She’s still mind blown by the atmosphere and the people and everything.

“Clearly,” She replies. “I mean, did you see that man’s jawline? I’m a lesbian, but I can still admire a good looking – “

“What are you doing here, Santana?”

Brittany’s curt tone pulls Santana right back to the other day where they sat together at her tiny dining table and she watched as Brittany grew more and more disappointed in her. There’s a hardness to her, an annoyance, that doesn’t go unnoticed. It makes Santana shrink back, that confidence before taking a big hit, but she stands her ground – even if Brittany makes her feel shaken.

“I’m here to be your arm candy,” Santana says in return – attempting to make this exchange lighthearted.

Brittany’s not having it though as she says bitterly, “I don’t need it.”

“Sure you do.”

“No,” Brittany admonishes. “I don’t so you can leave now.”

Santana slips up out of frustration, “Are you really going to make this difficult for me?”

That sets Brittany off once again, the bitterness intensifying.

“Seriously? You did not just ask me that. After everything you said the other night, after the way you just put your foot down and refused to budge? You want to talk to me about being difficult?” Brittany lets out a dry laugh, “You’ve got some nerve.”

Santana cringes as she takes a subtle look around to make sure no one notices them arguing, but no one pays them any mind. It’s a relief, but it doesn’t offer Santana much comfort with the way Brittany’s still glaring at her.

She was a little prepared for the backlash, she just wasn’t sure how bad Brittany’s words would sting. She isn’t used to the harshness in Brittany’s tone and she kind of hates that she’s the reason for it.

Still, she pushes forward. She’s determined to fix this, no matter how hard Brittany fights her.

“Okay,” Santana’s voice is meek. “So that was a poor choice of words... ”

“You think?” Brittany replies, her tone thick with sarcasm.

Santana’s instincts have her wanting to retreat. She has clearly messed up big time and everything in her is telling her to just listen to Brittany and leave – yet her feet don’t move.

Maybe she’s hardheaded, maybe she’s too damn stubborn for her own good; whatever it is, she continues to stand her ground.

“I’m here now,” Santana says earnestly. “That has to count for something?”

Brittany shakes her head, “It doesn’t.”

Santana lets out a laugh out of aggravation. Who knew the girl could be just as stubborn as her? Talk about grudges, no wonder no one ever gets on Brittany’s bad side! It’s damn near impossible to get off of it! But Santana’s made proving she can be there for Brittany her new mission so she’s not going anywhere just yet.

“What do you want me to do?” Santana asks dejectedly. “Get on my hands and knees? Beg for your forgiveness?”

“Save your breath,” Brittany replies briskly as she sets down her glass. “I don’t want to be here with someone that would rather be elsewhere and I’m tired of trying to force you to care.”

That one surprisingly hurts a little more than Santana expected, but it doesn’t top the feeling that quickly follows as she watches Brittany begin to turn her back on her.

“Brittany,” Santana finds herself calling out. When the blonde doesn’t stop, Santana calls out to her again. “Britt – “

“No,” Brittany pauses as she looks over her shoulder at Santana. “You were right. You’d just ruin my night. Go home, Santana.”

It’s another blow to the chest as the blonde turns to walk away again. Only this time, Santana kicks into gear. She’s got something to prove and she’s not leaving until she does! She quickly sets down her glass too and reaches out, catching Brittany by the wrist before she gets too far.

“Can you just wait?” Santana pleads.

“What?” Brittany snaps back.

Santana softens as she tucks her tail between her legs, “I’m sorry.”

Brittany looks a little taken aback by the relaxing of her tensed jaw, but it only last for a moment as she looks down at Santana’s hand still around her wrist.

“Okay, great,” Brittany says sarcastically. “Now let me go.”

Brittany doesn’t wait for Santana to loosen her grip and instead shakes Santana off of her. The brunette doesn’t try reaching for her again, but she does take a step closer.

“Hold on,” Santana urges again. “I’m not finished.”

Brittany pauses, taking a wary look back her. Santana can see that she’s wearing her down, but who knows how long it’ll last. There’s no reason for Brittany to give her another chance after having so many, so she has to make this count.

“I thought about what you said,” Santana tells her. “Like I really, really thought about it and I think you might be right.”

Brittany remains looking indifferent and that makes Santana nervous, but she continues on.

“You’re right about this being one sided. You’re right about you putting in most of the work and doing things that benefit me,” Santana says. “You’re right about it all – minus one thing.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “What’s that?”

“I’m not selfish.”

“No?” Brittany scoffs. “Then you must not know the meaning of the word because your past actions would say otherwise.”

Santana sighs, “Yeah, I know but I guess that’s why I’m here…to prove that you’re wrong.”

Brittany softens in the slightest as she listens.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Santana explains. “You always go above and beyond. I mean, you climbed through a window for me and you’re learning Spanish to get on Abuela’s good side! Like what the hell? Who does that?” Santana pauses when she realizes she’s veering from her point.

“I know I’m still not on your level when it comes to doing the most,” She continues. “But I figured it’s only fair that I do something that I normally wouldn’t just to show you that all you do isn’t for nothing. By coming here tonight, I’m trying to return the favor. This is my metaphorical window and I want to climb through it for you.”

Santana pauses when she realizes how lame she sounds, but maybe this huge fuck up calls for a little lameness. Maybe a lot; whatever works at this point!

Brittany watches Santana for a moment as if she’s trying to decide whether or not Santana’s words have any weight to them. It isn’t the first time she’s said she’d do better, so it’s no surprise Brittany isn’t as quick to accept her apology.

“I don’t really know if I believe you,” She finally says. Her tone has lost most of its bite but Santana knows she’s not in the clear just yet.

“That’s fine,” Santana replies. She stands a little taller, puffs out her chest and says, “I’ll just have to spend all night trying to convince you. You want a perfect fake girlfriend? Well Britt-Britt, you’ve got one.”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile that graces Brittany’s lips and it makes the dimming beacon of hope in Santana begin to shine a little brighter.

“That is,” Santana adds. “If you want me to. I know this night is important for you. I can go if that’s what you really want.”

She bats her eyelashes for the extra touch – because if after all of that Brittany still makes her leave…well that would just be embarrassing. Surprisingly though, it makes Brittany’s smile grow. Santana can tell she’s fighting to keep it small, fighting to keep from giving in, and she takes that as a personal victory.

“You can stay,” Brittany says after making Santana wait a little longer.

Santana beams, “Okay gre – ”

“For now.”

“Okay,” Santana’s grin softens. “I can handle that.”

“I don’t want to fight with you here,” Brittany tells her firmly. “I only want to have a good time and if you try to mess that up then you’re out of here.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Santana replies.

Brittany holds out her pinky, “Promise?”

Santana eyes her skeptically, “Are you trying to make me pinky promise? What are we twelve?”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Brittany replies flatly – still holding out her pinky.

“Promise,” Santana sighs and curls her pinky around Brittany’s.

Satisfied, Brittany nods and pulls away. While Santana chuckles, she looks over to the direction Mike left.

“So I guess you can go ahead and tell Hot Stuff over there that he doesn’t need to be coming around here anymore too.”

That pulls a genuine laugh out of Brittany who can’t help but smirk at Santana’s comment.

“Shocking; you’re the jealous type.”

Santana lifts her brow, “I’m not. I’m just saying – his assistance as interim date is no longer required if I’m here.”

“I said you can stay for now. I can change my mind at any time.”

Santana’s shoulders droop as she’s once again put back in her place. Brittany notices and smirks.

“He has a date already,” Brittany continues. “His girlfriend. You know her. Tina?”

Santana’s jaw drops a little, “No shit, really?”

“Yeah, they’ve been together for awhile now.”

“Wow, I had no idea. Well good,” Santana lifts her chin. “He can carry his fine ass on over to her and stay there then.”

“You’re really hung up on how people can be both smart and hot,” Brittany points out with a laugh. “Like you and I aren’t also examples of that being a thing.”

“Hold up,” Santana starts to smirk. “Did you just say I’m hot?”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “I mean, you do look nice.”

Santana frowns, “Just nice?”

Brittany eyes her up and down slowly before shrugging, “Yeah, nice. I’m actually surprised you didn’t wear one of your stripper dresses. Guess you won’t be making it rain tonight.”

Santana lets out a laugh. She’s glad Brittany’s back to bantering with her instead of the heavy intensity from before. Maybe they’re not completely back on good terms, but at least it’s better than what it was.

“We’ll see. Those moves are for later,” Santana winks jokingly before giving her compliments. “You clean up pretty good too. I like what you’ve done with your hair. It’s cute.”

Brittany gets a little bashful as she fluffs her softly tussled hair, “Thanks.”

Santana only nods, “Now where’s this elusive open bar I’ve heard so much about? I needs me something other than champagne.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you’re here,” Brittany quips.

Santana feels like Brittany’s testing her although her tone remains playful.

“Yeah, but I’m mostly here for you,” Santana replies super sweetly. “I mean, how can I say no to an open bar? I am a broke college student after all.”

Brittany chuckles, “I see your priorities are straight.”

“It’s the only straight thing about me,” Santana jokes before hooking her arm with Brittany’s.

After getting their drinks, the couple roam around the room arm in arm. It’s mostly to keep up appearances; a way to make up for Santana arriving late and to show that Brittany really isn’t here all alone.

She’s surprised by how many come up to greet them – well, greet Brittany. Santana guesses the blonde really is a big deal here after all and everyone happily chats away with her. Who can blame them though? Brittany’s probably the friendliest person Santana knows.

They bump into Mike and Tina again near the giant owl ice sculpture while they make their rounds – because yeah, of course this party has one of those – but the conversation is kept brief with Tina trying to get in as many interviews with everyone before dinner.

Mike tags along after her with a proud smile on his face as he offers to hold her drink and for a second Santana kind of feels a little guilty about having her claws out when they first met. He seems kind, happy to be alongside Tina and Santana finds herself wondering if people get that vibe when she’s with Brittany.

While Santana and Brittany linger by the ice sculpture, Santana notices a small group of people that look a lot like the guys from Brittany’s team. At least the one in the center of it all is for sure. They stick out to her because they’re probably some of the lasts who haven’t come to greet Brittany which seems odd considering she’s their teammate.

Wouldn’t they have been the first to see her? Maybe Santana missed that part since she arrived late, then again judging by how they seemed to shun her at the match they probably haven’t come to say hi on purpose.

Santana quietly watches them though as Brittany chats with another guest about robotics or whatever nerdy talk that goes completely over Santana’s head. She notices how they all gravitate to the one guy in the center and it’s like they hang on his every word. They laugh when he does, they nod when he nods – they’re puppets and he’s the puppet master.

Santana doesn’t realize she’s pulling a face until Brittany bumps her with her elbow.

“Quit it,” Brittany chastises. “People can see you.”

“My bad,” Santana fixes her face and gestures over to the group. “He’s on your team, right? The one in the dusty grandpa sweater.”

Brittany glances in the direction and nods.

Santana wrinkles her nose, “He seems like a tool.”

“He’s not,” Brittany’s quick to defend before softening. “Not really.”

Santana doesn’t looked convinced so Brittany adds.

“He’s a pretty big deal to this community. People say he has one of the most gifted minds in our generation.”

Santana picks up on Brittany’s tone, but she can’t tell whether it’s envy or something entirely different. She knows one thing is for sure though.

“People say that about you too,” Santana tells her honestly. “The whole gifted mind thing.”

Brittany shakes her head and looks to the ground, “No they don’t.”

Her dismissiveness confuses Santana. She’s never not seen Brittany confident in how intelligent she actually is. If there’s one thing Santana knows the blonde is sure about, it’s her smarts. They argue about it all the time! That’s the very foundation of their rivalry, but apparently here that’s not the case.

“Word about his work has travelled all the way to MIT,” Brittany adds. “It’s so impressive.”

“And yet, he never went there. You did,” Santana reminds her as she continues to stare down the guy. She glances to Brittany again skeptically, “Or is he a transfer too?”

“He’s not. But I’m sure he would’ve gotten in easy. His work is…it’s legendary.”

Santana watches Brittany, trying to figure her out. It sounds a lot like admiration rather than envy, but why? How great can this guy possibly be if he has Brittany doubting herself?

“I didn’t know you were such a fan,” Santana comments.

“I just admire him is all,” Brittany says, confirming Santana’s thoughts.

Santana still doesn’t get it though and frowns around the word, “Admire…”

The both of them watch the man chat with the others silently for two very different reasons. The longer Santana stares, the more she kind of wants to punch him. He just has a very punchable face she supposes, especially when he laughs louder than anyone else in the room.

The sound makes Santana grit her teeth while it has the opposite effect on Brittany.

“He’s kind of cute too,” The blonde admits.

“Cute?” Santana raises both brows and laughs. “We looking at the same guy?”

Brittany shrugs, “He’s cute in that boy next door kind of way.”

“Seriously?” Santana snickers. “That Mike guy was kind of cute. Him? He ain’t it.”

Brittany suddenly hardens, “Well it doesn’t matter what you think. Does it?”

Santana’s taken aback.

“It’s not always about looks,” Brittany further chastises. “There’s more to people than that.”

Santana keeps quiet and nods, not wanting to piss Brittany off again. Afterall, her presence is completely dependent on whether or not Brittany wants her around. She can revoke the privilege at any second and Santana would hate to be kicked to the curb because she once again can’t keep her opinions to herself.

“What’d you say his name was again?” She asks a moment later.

“Artie.”

Suddenly something clicks. She remembers the conversation she had with Brittany’s parents at Brittany’s last match and the comment about someone named Artie.

“So that’s who your parents were talking about,” Santana hums.

“Wait what?” Brittany whirls on her. “I’ve mentioned him like twice. What’d they say?”

Santana shrugs, “They said dating me is an upgrade.”

Brittany gives her a look and slumps, “They didn’t say that.”

“No, but it’s true.”

“They clearly don’t know you well enough.”

Santana cringes, “Hey, I’m trying. At least I’m not a tool like that guy.”

“Debatable.”

“Rude.”

They settle into silence again. Santana goes from scanning the crowd to glancing Brittany’s way. She notices how the blonde continues to gravitate towards Artie too, just like one of his puppets. Santana finds it so odd and the curiosity begins to get the better of her.

“So what’s your deal with him?” She asks. “He an ex I need to worry about?”

“No. It’s nothing like that,” Brittany replies.

Santana doesn’t believe that for a second though.

“I sense a story.”

“There isn’t one,” Brittany says with a shrug. “We were friends and now, I don’t know what we are. Things got weird after I was asked to join the robotics team and he wasn’t. We used to study all the time together, but after that happened he kind of kept me at a distance.”

Santana struggles to mask the disdain she has for this guy. He really is a tool if that’s how he acts. But she fights the urge to speak on it, sensing Brittany still has some kind of connection with him.

“Do you like him or something?” Santana wonders.

Brittany shrugs again, “It’s complicated. We’ve got history I guess.”

Santana nods; she can oddly relate to that.

“You know, he was the first friend I made here?” Brittany smiles at the memory. “I was so freaking nervous – you know, new campus and all. I spent extra time trying to get my bearings the day before but I still ended up getting lost on my first day. Artie was the one who took the time to show me around.”

Santana quirks a brow at that, but notices Brittany’s melancholy even more.

“Don’t tell Tina that,” Santana tries to joke. “We’ll have some conflicting stories.”

When Brittany barely gives her a smile, Santana tries again.

“I thought Puck was the one who showed you around?” Santana asks. “That’s how you guys became friends?”

“He was, but Artie was the first.”

“Huh,” Santana glances at the guy and laughs. “He must not have done a very good job then if you still ended up getting lost.”

This time there’s a small that graces Brittany’s lips, but it’s not nearly as big and bright as Santana’s used to. She’ll just have to try harder.

“He also introduced me to the Brainiacs,” Brittany tells her. “It was pretty cool of him. When I was at MIT, it was hard to get into any clubs. Everyone was kind of cliquey, so it was nice to see that things were different here. Everyone on the team was super accepting at first.”

“At first?” Santana questions.

“Yeah,” Brittany starts to frown. “When I first joined, the team was mostly girls and they were really great – super smart and so lovely – but they graduated last year. Now the dynamic’s changed a lot because of all the new people who seem to worship Artie. That’s probably part of the reason for his ego boost.”

Santana turns up her nose at that, but Brittany’s quick to return to the positives.

“But when it’s just us, he’s not so bad. He really looked out for me when I first came to Columbia. He introduced me to the Brainiacs and recommended me for the tutoring gig,” Brittany tells her. “We used to work together all the time until I got into this fake relationship with you.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Santana quips, but Brittany doesn’t really laugh at that. So Santana softens, a little intrigued by Brittany’s past, “So after all that time spent together, nothing ever happened between you two?”

“No,” Brittany replies. “I don’t think it ever would anyway.”

“Because you’re taken or…”

Brittany sighs at the joke, “Like I said, things got weird after I joined the robotics team. It was like the first time I did something for myself without his help or recommendation and I guess it rubbed him the wrong way?”

“You’re friends, aren’t you?” Santana questions. “Why would he feel some type of way about you branching out?”

“I don’t know,” Brittany shrugs. “Maybe I’m looking too much into things? Maybe he really doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

Santana shakes her head and stares at Artie again, “Well it looks like on top of being a tool, he’s an idiot too.”

Then almost as if he was summoned, Artie looks their way.

Santana finds herself straightening up, trying to stand taller, trying to seem more intimidating, but it doesn’t look like it deters the guy as he begins his journey over.

“Brittany,” Artie greets with a nod. “Hi.”

Brittany smiles, “Hey Artie.”

He then looks to Santana and gives her a curious look full of judgement. It has Santana clenching her teeth, trying her hardest to maintain character when all she wants to do is roll the guy into the giant owl ice sculpture.

“Who’s this?” He asks Brittany as if Santana can’t hear.

Santana breaks slightly and scoffs, “You know how I am.”

Artie raises his brow and looks expectantly to Brittany.

“This is my girlfriend, Santana,” Brittany introduces. “I’ve mentioned her to you before.”

“Right,” Artie looks to Santana again. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Santana stares back challengingly, “I bet your hear that a lot.”

Artie sits back in his chair with this smug look on his face, “Funny. She’s funny.”

“It’s one of my many top notch qualities,” Santana fires back before looking to Brittany. Her arm goes around her waist, “Ain’t that right, babe?”

It takes a moment for Brittany to play along, but then she’s smiling and melting into Santana’s side, “Yeah. Totally.”

Artie only eyes the two though, out of suspicion or jealousy – Santana’s unsure. She’s hoping for the latter, because it seems like no one’s ever put him in his place before. Santana’s just the girl for the job!

“So do you think the team is going to get the top spot, Artie?” Brittany asks, trying to keep things light. “It was a lot of close matches this year, I hope our percentage is enough to pull us through.”

Artie shakes his head, almost like he’s disappointed. “I don’t know. Several of those matches shouldn’t have been that close. You really should’ve spent more time studying.”

Santana’s brows rise, but she remains quiet – looking to Brittany to see her reaction. To her surprise, the blonde looks just as remorseful.

“Yeah, you’re right. I think I was having an off day.”

“I think you had a lot of those,” Artie quips. “Too busy with the robotics team maybe?”

Santana scoffs, “Is he joking?”

But Brittany doesn’t say anything so Santana keeps quiet too.

“Some competitors take a little while to warm up,” Artie continues. “You just aren’t a seasoned contender like I am. You know I hold the record for fastest buzz in during my rookie season?”

“I know.”

“No one’s come close to beating it,” Artie flaunts. “We might’ve made state if you didn’t botch the science round during the last match. Maybe I should’ve taken the turn instead.”

Brittany nods and Santana can tell she’s trying to take his criticism constructively – only problem is that it’s not constructive at all. It’s completely condescending and uncalled for.

“Hold up, no,” Santana finds herself interrupting which seems to surprise the pair. “Brittany killed it during the finals or whatever you call it. She was buzzing in when no one else on your little team was. Not even you knew those answers, so what I think you need to be doing is thanking her.”

“For what?” Artie challenges.

“For carrying the team obviously. No way you would’ve gotten far if it wasn’t for her.”

Brittany looks a little shocked by the way Santana stands up for her, but Santana barely notices – too busy willing Artie to step out of line again.

And he does, with an arrogant laugh, he brushes Santana off.

“But the time it took her to buzz in is what we lose points for,” Artie explains. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand how academic decathlons work. They’re not like your cheerleading competitions, we actually have to use our brains.”

“Artie,” Brittany chastises but he’s unfazed.

Meanwhile Santana’s eyes are wide with surprise. The nerve, the audacity – it’s unbelievable!

“I’m sorry,” Santana starts to lean forward, getting down on his level. “Are you jealous that you can’t possibly possess both brains and brawn?”

Artie shifts in his chair and tries to evade Santana’s eye, but she’s so close now that he can’t avoid her.

“Or do you feel threatened by it?” Santana presses. “Threatened because this cheerleader’s GPA is something you’ve only dreamt of having and I didn’t have to waste away in a musty old library to get it? Tell me, Wheels, who was it again that was on track to be valedictorian until Brittany came along because I don’t remember seeing your name anywhere on the list.”

Artie’s face goes a little red that time; out of embarrassment or anger, Santana doesn’t care. All she cares about is making sure that he knows he isn’t shit and there’s no way he’ll talk to Brittany like that while she’s around.

There’s only one person in the world that can pick on Brittany and that’s her.

“The keyword is was,” He retorts.

“The keyword is you’re a prick,” Santana bites back just as fiercely.

“Okay,” Brittany cuts in. She gives Santana a little tug until she can curl an arm around her waist, “I think that’s enough of that.”

Artie continues to look shaken, but he does his best to mask it. Trying to be as macho as he can while in that turtleneck sweater he must’ve stolen from his grandfather’s closet. Safe to say it doesn’t fool Santana one bit.

“Well, I can see why you like her, Britt,” Artie comments with a glance in Santana’s direction. “She’s fiery.”

“She’s also this close to going all Lima He– “

“Santana,” Brittany scolds again.

There’s a pleading look in her eye that has Santana softening. She remembers what Brittany said earlier about tonight being fun and not wanting to fight, so Santana let’s Brittany pull her back. She settles, but it feels like it’s only the calm before the storm.

Artie notices too and puts on a smug grin, “Come to think of it, I have heard your name floating around on campus. Santana Lopez; the girl can’t be tied down to save her life.”

“Well Brittany’s changed that,” Santana quips. “Hasn’t she?”

“Hmm,” Artie nods but the stare he gives her is almost analytical. “It’s not really a pairing I would’ve pictured considering your history.” He then looks to Brittany and frowns, “I’m pretty sure you once told me that she couldn’t possibly have any redeeming qualities.”

Santana tries looking unfazed, but she can’t lie and say that comment didn’t sting. One look at Brittany and she can sense the guilt, but she keeps it hidden from Artie. Santana can’t hold it against Brittany though if she did say something like that about her, there’s been many times she’s complained about the blonde to Puck too.

But that was before they got to know each other, that was before they had to work together to emulate this perfect couple.

“Looks like I was wrong about that,” Brittany replies behind a smile that’s directed at Santana. She squeezes a little at the brunette’s waist, “Who would’ve known, opposites really do attract?”

Santana chuckles, remembering saying something similar during a conversation with Tina months ago.

“It sure took me by surprise,” Santana adds before glancing to Artie. “Guess I have some pretty redeeming qualities after all.”

Artie hums again with this contemplative look on his face, but he doesn’t rock the boat any further. He just nods and says, “Well this was fun. I guess I’ll leave you two to enjoy the Ball.”

Santana sneers at him while Brittany bids him goodbye.

“Oh. By the way Britt,” Artie pauses and glances back. “You look really great.”

Santana raises a brow at the compliment.

She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but there’s the slightest little smirk on his dumb face as he says it and it has Santana feeling hot. Even if Brittany isn’t her actual girlfriend, what the hell? Who compliments another person’s date right in front of them? It seems as though Artie knows exactly what he’s doing, but given her promise to Brittany she’ll bite her tongue – for now.

While Brittany ducks her head in thanks, Santana stays quiet – waiting until Artie is out of sight before she can finally let down her guard and say what’s really on her mind.

#hate to date #brittana #brittana fanfiction #enemies to lovers #fake dating au

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hetalia-reacts · 3 years

Note

This might be weird but erm how would germany denmark and austria react to having a catboy s/o 🤧

(ﾟωﾟ) t-thank you for requesting this, not gonna lie this is gonna be very self indulgent and long hehe I have a not so secret love for cat boys and honestly the whole hybrid au thing it’s just so cute to me

Germany

Ludwig has come to really love his catboy boyfriend

First to admit the start was rocky and very challenging for both him and his s/o

Ludwig is quite knowledgeable on many things, exercise, health, academics, woodwork, steelwork, the list could go on and on

But he isn’t very knowledgeable about cats, or really any animal that isn’t a dog or doglike

So when he first found you,his s/o, cat ears and all, he was stumped in more ways than one

Ludwig definitely had many talks with Italy and Greece at the beginning when he let you stay with him

Like what did cats like? Should he take you on walks? Pet your ears? Offer to play fetch with you?

His way of thinking leads to lots of scratches and bites from you

When Ludwig starts getting into a relationship/realizes his feelings towards you things actually go pretty smoothly

Ludwig is awkward about confessing but after he gets through it and gets accepted it’s honestly smooth sailing from there

Aside from the fact he still asks if you want to play fetch with the dogs….

Ludwig would probably never admit to your face but he enjoys watching you be more catlike and acting more yourself than when you act more human or ‘normal’

Like when you try to catch any bugs that fly in, or when you find a string on the ground and go wild playing with it

It’s those moments that makes Ludwig feel special and all the more in love since that’s a side of you he doubts many have seen

Does anybody know about his boyfriend? Or know that he’s a catboy?

Yes but not because Ludwig or you wanted them too

Prussia, Austria, and Italy have barged in at some point or another and discovered you without your hat on thus leading to some scolding for Ludwig and some head pats for you from Italy

Hungary found out from Austria that he had a cat and came over to see them only to find you, she also scolds Ludwig for hiding you because damn was she in love with your cuteness

Switzerland and Liechtenstein find out because Switzerland needed to drop something off, came inside when Ludwig wasn’t there, and they both found you sleeping soundly

Liechtenstein comes over often now to see you despite her brother thinking you’re super suspicious and weird

And finally Japan finds out because Italy won’t stop talking about Ludwig’s catboy boyfriend and Japan needs to know if you’re just super into nekomimi headsets or if you’re really part cat

Expect Japan to not want to leave and invite you and Ludwig over a lot

Ludwig is troubled by them finding out but is glad that you’ve got some friends other than him and the dogs

Denmark

Mathias is a total dork and loves the catboy immediately

He’s just an animal man in general and you make him really happy even without being in a relationship

He wasn’t even phased by the cat ears and tail, just really wanted to pet your head

Struggles a lot when trying to take care of you/figure you out but he will not admit that he has no clue what he’s doing

Much like Germany often asks you if you want to play fetch, tug of war, or other really weird games

The only thing is Mathias can’t take a hint that you dislike that

Poor guy probably ends up thinking that’s just how you play and asks if you want to wrestle with him

Ganbare reader….

When a relationship starts forming or when he realizes that he likes you more than just as a roommate or friend Mathias is smooth

He totally takes you out on a date and confesses using a really cheesy line but it’s so him that it’s hard to laugh at him for it

Does he tell others he has a boyfriend? That you’re a catboy?

Yes and no

He tells people he’s dating someone, even introduces you to his family and friends but does his best to make sure you aren’t found out

Mathias is a jokester and a laid back guy but he’d never betray your trust on purpose and tell others about your secret

They do find out though…..

Norway and Iceland dropped by unannounced to give Mathias something he forgot at their house and since they have a key they let themselves in and you were walking about without your disguise on

Norway is likely angry at Mathias and you for hiding it and not trusting him at the very least

Iceland just thinks your cute but a little weird since you aren’t a cat, human, or country

Finland and Sweden find out because of Sealand

Mathias invited the three of them over and you and Sealand started rough housing and poof, there goes your hat

Sealand wants to come over everyday or have you come over and Finland and Sweden are big fans of this idea

They think you’re adorable uwu

Mathias has to beat them away with a stick and remind them you’re dating and not a pet so they won’t steal you from him

He’s glad it worked out that way though because he felt bad keeping it from them but didn’t want to betray your trust in him

Austria

Roderich is t r o u b l e d

I’m sorry but it’s the truth

He’s confused by what you are and no matter how cute of a catboy you are that doesn’t change his initial feelings

He can take care of people really well and he’s really nice but he will always act like it’s a burden

At the start you totally only get to stay on the condition you do some of the housework for him he totally hates dusting and sweeping/vacuuming

Roderich really loves petting your ears

He thinks they’re super soft and it relieves a lot of stress to pet and play with them

Unlike the others he knows how to handle your cat behaviors somewhat better

Won’t admit he bought you things to mess with while he’s busy, or if he does admit it he says it like your attention was bothering him

He easy to read though once you realize the type of person he is

So that’s how the relationship starts, you realizing he loves you more than a friend and making him confess

He takes you on dates often and tells you not to worry about hiding your ears and tail

He hates seeing you hiding yourself like that

Roderich will always defend you and make excuses why you have cat ears and a cat tail so you never have to worry about defending yourself or coming up with something

Would he tell others that he has a boyfriend? That his boyfriend is a catboy?

Yes for some, no for others

He told Hungary about you being a catboy before you two started dating

he really had no choice as she comes over a lot and they’re really close, but don’t worry she supports the romance 100% when he tells her he’s dating you

Roderich also willing tells Germany about you being a catboy before you two are dating and also tells him the news once you both are official

People that found out by accident are Switzerland and Prussia

Switzerland accidentally found the both of you together at a market and your hat fell off and he totally saw your ears before Roderich could do anything

He’s secretly happy for Roderich but of course he covers it up by being a bit standoffish and dismissive

Prussia finds out by bursting into Roderich and yours home to bother Roderich and catch up with him

Prussia ends up bothering you instead and not even talking to Roderich

Roderich is troubled by all the attention you get from his friends but he’s also happy since he’d rarely seen you leave before meeting them

#aph germany #hws germany #aph denmark #hws denmark #aph Austria #hws austria #hetalia #hetalia reactions #hetalia headcanons #hetalia scenarios

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evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn · 3 years

Text

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 2: Wasted Effort, Wasted Breath

Read on AO3 (Chapter 1)

Word count: 1363

Tw: Sooo much pining, Food mention, Remus shenanigans (Explicit nicknames, Explicit language, Human body limits being broken, Talk of gore)

Character’s: Logan, Roman, Remus (cause I love a supportive bestie)

~~~

"-pretty sure his favorite flowers are buttercups, but I could always ask... Are you listening to me Specs?"

"Hm? Yes, yes I am." Logan blinks out of his haze from which he was not listening. Don't get him wrong, he does usually enjoy discussions with Roman, but not really when he's making plans to help him woo someone he doesn't even like.

"Oh yeah? Name his favorite kinds of chocolates." Roman challenges.

"Milk Chocolate chips." Logan already knew that before, as he is usually the one to supervise Patton's baking to make sure he doesn't burn down the mindscape. Patton is always a chatty fellow, and Logan now knows pretty much his whole life story. He's used this knowledge before, gaining him a gold star on a family game night. (He has it pinned up next to all of Thomas's other academic achievements)

"Fair enough. I set the bar too low." Roman flops down on the bed, drawing a long sigh. As soon as Roman had found out about Logan's crush, he had dragged him to his room so they could get to the 'gossip' immediately.

At this point, after three hours, Logan is almost more annoyed than embarrassed. After the initial shock of realizing his infatuation, he's had the time to think about it and come to terms with his feelings. It helped that he was in the same room as the object of his affections this whole time, as he's been noticing all of the things he used to repress. Like how he really likes Roman's smile. He likes his prince charming smile, when he's overly confident about something. He likes his bashful smiles whenever he gets shy about something.

Really, he just likes Roman.

It feels very simple when he puts it that way. He can't believe it's taken him this long to find out.

"I think we should take a break from the input of ideas for now." Logan suggests.

Roman sighs and deflates further. "Ah, fine. I shall for now give up on setting you up with your one true love."

Logan stays silent. What? Just because he's annoyed enough to want to tell Roman doesn't mean he has an ounce of courage to actually go through with it. He clearly is all for setting up Logan with Patton, why would he like him back? Logan doesn't want to risk getting his heart broken, figuratively, right after discovering that his heart has been for Roman all along. Figuratively.

"Sooo, what kind of things do you like in Patton?" Roman asks, suspiciously calm and casual.

"I- um, well-" Logan fumbles for something people would find romantically attractive in Patton. "He... He's got... Eyes? And he wears clothes. I enjoy people wearing clothes."

Roman stares at him, confused. "... That's it? Come on, you've gotta give me something better than that Dill Weed."

Well, why not go for things he likes in Roman, he supposes. As Janus would say, every lie works better when rooted in truth.

"I think he's rather dumb," Logan starts off with. "Which should be a negative, but he's just so endearingly stupid. Every time he spews some nonsense, or does anything really, I just want to kiss him. He's also really creati- Kind. Very... Uhh... Sweet. I notice the effort he puts in to make others feel special. And make me feel special. Everyone is included."

"Do you... Like his puns?" Roman asks, half smiling, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Dear Newton, I hate his puns." Logan sighs solemnly. That draws a laugh from Roman, if only for a bit. "I do actually like his eyes though. The changes we experience in the mindscape are fascinating, and he's certainly been blessed, with those green, piercing eyes." He says, entranced, looking into Roman's wide, green, piercing eyes, that are looking back at him in shock.

"You mean blue?" Roman asks, oddly red in the ears and fidgeting with his hands.

Logan blinks out of his stupor. "Ah. Right. Blue. Apologies."

They both break eye contact, him looking around the very decorated room as if that would cure his embarrassment.

"You really seem to like him." Roman looks back to him, face pinched but still smiling.

"I do." Logan agrees, admiring the other. "I like him a lot."

"Well. Um." Roman stands up abruptly from the bed. "You did say you didn't want my help for tonight with the whole date ordeal. In which case, we shall resume the noble quest at a later date!"

"You don't want to talk about other things?" Logan asks, tilting his head. Is Roman okay? He looks pained.

"No, I think I'll be off. I have to go do other things. Like, water my.. Turtle." Roman ushers him out of his room. "So long, Geek Chic."

“... You don’t own a turtle-” Logan is left there, staring at the door. It's red with a star at the top center. Tasteful. Very Hollywood dressing room.

He clears his throat, and goes on his route to his own room. That shouldn't be that hard, since the only thing separating them is Patton's (He volunteered to move in between when both of them started arguing through the wall. It's strange because they live in a metaphysical space that only roughly simulates real life and therefore likely have an empty void in between the spaces of their rooms, but Logan suspects where he goes, more logical influence follows.), but fate has an interesting way of working. Or just Remus. Speaking of, there he is. Breaking through the ceiling and landing face-first with a splat in front of Logan.

Remus merely cranks his head 180 to look at Logan. "Heyyy Nerdgasm. How'd the romantic fucking go?"

"I didn't tell him."

"No? Are you scared?" He asks, in a mocking tone but looking concerned.

Logan's shoulders slump. "I don't think I'm ready enough to face rejection from him. Not to mention he seemed rather adamant about giving me tips on how to woo Patton."

"Aww, come on Logie. You can't give up now. I'm not allowed to tell you why, but you do have quite the chance of scoring that loser." Remus says, shifting in and out of existence until he's standing upright. He pats Logan's shoulder. "Now go, cause the next time you see me, you'll never hear the end of the teasing. Like, even if you rip off your ears! I'll still find a way to make fun of you." He cackles.

Logan dreads the moment they meet again. Now that both Remus, Janus and Virgil were proven right, not only will they brag amongst themselves, but they'll surely tease him.

Remus prances off, and Logan finally gets to his room. He takes off his shoes, because cleanliness is a good idea, and prepares himself for bed.

Staring up at his star-covered ceiling (Accurate to it's alignment of today, obviously), he realizes he still has a lot to process.

How did they all know and yet he had no idea? He knows he isn't the most intelligent when it comes to emotions, but come on, neither are most of them. Usually Virgil wouldn't know romantic tension if it slapped him across the chaps. Or maybe he would. He'd just be anxious and/or grossed out by it.

Logan realizes that he must have been obvious. He's sure that he's been caught glaring at Roman many times. And trying to be around him. And Janus is also a living lie detector.

He gets himself into a comfortable lying position, turning off his bedside lamp.

Will he ever tell Roman? He'll probably have to, or keep the feelings to himself for the rest of his existence, hoping they go away.

Which would be better? Sure, never confessing sounds like a tragic way for things to go, but what would be even more tragic would be to get rejected by him, and have to coexist for eternity afterwards. Would Roman avoid him? His heart clenches painfully at the possibilities.

Perhaps he's having cognitive distortions... Roman is rather considerate. If he were to let him down, he'd do it slowly and compassionately.

As Logan's conscience fades, he prays it will all turn out alright.

~~~

#logince #logince fic #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #tw food #oliver writes #5 Reasons fic

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pepperful-qt · 4 years

Note

Hi there! Can I request hcs of kuroo, kita and semi with a big brain s/o? It doesn't just apply to s/o academically, but more so about life in general (like having ~streetsmarts~) thank you!

you said street smarts my mind went to jj bittenbinder. ngl i kinda used the wisdom proficiencies from d&d as reference for this hahaha nerd i hope it’s what you want! also i just want to thank you for requesting my not-so-secret fav semi semi

Kuroo, Kita, & Semi with a big brain s/o

* * * * *

Kuroo Tetsuro

oh this man appreciates it. he’s so entertained

you know that drinking game that Tyrion does with Shae where he guesses something about your past and if he’s right you have to drink, if not he does? that’s what you do minus the drinking part obv,, unless

as a person with high charisma himself, you make it a game to see who can bluff out and/or fool the other (you almost always win)

any time there’s a game night and you’re playing a social deception game you always win. no one can get a lie past you

if it’s a teamwork one, you and Kuroo crush everyone else

you find ways to skimp on your hw but still come out fine. he has no idea how, and it both annoys and impresses him

“i thought you stayed up watching buzzfeed unsolved instead of studying last night??”

“yeah so what?”

“but you got a 96%”

he knows that intelligence isn’t just defined by what you’re able to memorize out of a book, and you’re a perfect example of that. he respects you a lot

you’re the type of person that reads random articles and therefore has the most random bits of trivia that you throw in conversation

he can have an intellectual conversation with you, since you always come up with unique perspectives. he loves asking your opinion on things, bc who tf knows what’ll come out of your mouth

you don’t know what a derivative is to save your life but you know the location of every 7/11 in a ten mile radius, and if they carry a specific type of onigiri or cup noodle flavor

but fr you give the best advice and are always there to lend an ear

you watch murder mystery movies together and try to figure out the culprit, sometimes actually arguing over it

other times you’ll watch a drama and make bets on who’s gonna do what or end up with who

rip Kenma in the corner just trying to live his life

it’s hilarious seeing you interact with someone who is not “big brain” or street smart

let’s just use Lev as an example for no particular reason, just bc

you quickly learned that Lev would believe almost anything you said, he was that fascinated by your apparent wisdom

so you and Kuroo will sometimes join forces and see what you can get him to believe. you once convinced him that if you kill an insect you’d become that insect in your next life and die the same way, and for a solid month he would start crying if he ever stepped on an ant

chaos couple™

you have this whole atmosphere about you that is just “do not fuck with me” bamf if i do say so myself

which tbh is one of the things he finds most attractive about you. you knew exactly what he was up to the first time he started flirting with you, but you weren’t intimidated one bit. you became a challenge~

10/10 best looking couple of the three

* * *

Kita Shinsuke

the two voices of reason, bless you both. you’re very similar, but also very different

he’s the definition of high intelligence & high wisdom with low charisma cleric kita omg, while you have both high wisdom and high charisma with an intelligence stat you barely use (high or low lol)

he’s the kind of guy who always thinks things through with logic, and he’s always sure of his decisions

you on the other hand, have an intuition based logic

freaks him out when you rely on your gut instinct but somehow it always pays off

“why?”

“just because”

“but why??”

you’re adaptable in almost every situation, always know what to say, and have an uncanny ability to read people

which actually comes in handy in your relationship

he’s not the best at expressing himself but you always seem to know his emotional state and thought process, something no one else except his granny has really cracked yet and you do it so easily. sometimes he wonders if you’re a mind reader

you knew he liked you before he did & you asked him out first ~

“Shin-kun, you look happy today!”

“Ah, I was able to clean all the volleyballs after practice and still had time to fold and organize the scrimmige vests by color.”

meanwhile Atsumu: “hE litERALLY?? looks the sAME??!”

speaking of the twins, you’re great at handling them

Atsumu tried to scare you away the first time you showed up at practice before you and Kita announced your relationship, but you were calm and polite

which tbh put him off more than if you’d clammed up or gotten angry. he almost felt bad for being rude. almost.

imagine how bad he felt when Kita found out

the both of you are both feared and respected by the team

you’ll help Kita out with his self-assigned chores sometimes, figuring out new ways to be efficient and not lose quality

he also loves how he can trust you to take care of yourself, whether it’s walking home alone or losing you in a crowd or just looking after your health. he still worries and dotes on you but it’s out of love, not because he’s concerned you’ll hurt yourself unintentionally

he loves a person with common sense @ inarizaki

you’re both really good at getting gifts for each other, since you’re both very perceptive

one time you guessed his favorite flavor of ice cream and it made the butterflies a’flutter

there’s this silent competition between you two of who can give the better gifts

wishes you would study more though ngl. he knows you’re smart you just don’t always dedicate that intelligence to your schoolwork

he finds it charming how you’re always looking at things from different angles rather than the straightforward path. he thinks it’s a very good quality

that “yeah but what if...” kind of mentality

we already know he appreciates that attitude if he doesn’t really take it on himself

you’re both able to appreciate the nuances of life and enjoy the moment together

your relationship is one of the most balanced and strong out there tbh,,

* * *

Semi Eita

you’ve got this charm that makes people respect you. a certain type of confidence, if you will, that made him first notice you

lots of students were intimidated by the members of the volleyball team, for their height and reputation etc, but you never showed any reservation, not even with Ushijima

as well as your conviction, you have take no shit attitude that comes in great handy with certain members of the team it’s also hot af

you can banter with Tendou and you provoke Goshiki all day long but never Shirabu bc you know what’s up

you do however irritate him with mind games, bc you know he’s a little shit who stole your bf’s spot and needs to be taken down a peg sometimes

you: *describing the quantum wave trolley problem”

Shirabu: *screams*

all the while Semi is trying and failing to hide the smug little smirk on his face

with Semi though, you’re able to just talk

he enjoys conversation with you bc he’s never bored. you make him think and you make him laugh, both good things

sometimes you’ll point something out that just makes him go “oh” bc it seems so obvious when you point it out

other times it’s something so outlandish that he can’t help but crack a smile or let out a laugh

sometimes it’s the connect the dots meme “you didn’t connect shit” lmao

again, solid advice giver with no holds barred. anyone who needs to be straight up told what they need to hear comes to you, bc you're usually right

and Semi himself can get lost in his own head so it's nice to have you to ground him

you’re decent in your classes sure, but where you really impress is your strategy in game. any game

once you were invited to play laser tag with the team and you whipped out a battle plan that annihilated the other team

alternatively, you show no mercy in monopoly or uno, damn your relationships

it’s actually very annoying how quickly you pick up the rules and nuances to games and use them to your advantage

if you’re both very competitive, it’s usually better for everyone if you’re both on the same team

but he likes a challenge heh

okay, we know he’s bad at dressing himself when it comes to casual outfits. no common sense. you notice this too

“Eita, sweetie, if you go out like that you will get mugged,, even in Miyagi.”

you’ll walk down the street hand in hand and you make random guesses or stories about the people you see

“that guy is totally a scammer” or “bet that lady looking at the papaya is trying to start a diet for the third time, look at her face” and he’ll chuckle

he knows there’s always something going on inside your mind and he wants to know

when you’re lost in thought he’ll tap your forehead

“hey what’s going on in there?”

he enjoys listening to your musings and thoughts and opinions. you either have a crazy gut instinct or have some unique thought you’ve internally debated over for months

gets inspiration from you actually, even if he doesn’t realize it

likewise, you realize he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say, but you have a way of making him say it, even if he is hesitant and abrasive at first

you’ll call him at 3am with a random thought and he’ll grumble a bit but actually will listen to you with the smallest smile on his face

* * * * *

i hope??? this was good??? also lmk if this is too long without a read more i’m not sure :P

#kuroo tetsuro #kita shinsuke #semi eita #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kita x reader #semi x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu writing #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcanons #the way i got so excited seeing my boy semi on here #don't look up the quantum wave trolley problem unless you want your brain fried

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dccomicsimagines · 4 years

Text

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Seven

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Note from Anon - I absolutely love your writing! You're definitely one of my favorite fanfic writers. I love What's Lost Is Found, but I just thought I might suggest adding some sort of warning for depressive thoughts or something. I really love how your writings are realistic and that I can relate to them, but it was so similar to the depression I had a couple years ago, I felt myself become a little depressed for a couple days afterward. Either way, it's still amazing and I can't wait for the next part! ❤❤❤

Author’s Note - I am truly sorry for any harm that this story might have caused due to the lack of a warning of depressive thoughts. I will try to include these warnings on the other parts as well and I’m sorry they weren’t there in the first place.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Requested by Anon - I love your work! Can the next part of What’s lost is found be her first encounter with Jason tim and Damien! Love the series

Requested by multifandoms916 - Can you write a part 7 for what’s lost is found where the reader gets closure from Bruce’s death All so where the adults and Lian actually apologizes like genuine

Requested by Anon - part seven of what’s lost is found? where the reader and damian finally meet again? and the reader gets like injured and he freaks? i love ur stories!

Requested by many other Anons as well.

***

You flipped over the last mugger and wrapped your legs around his neck. He choked. You chuckled, using the momentum to flip him onto the ground.

“I wish I could do that,” Jon laughed, flying over to scoop you up into his arms. He soared into the sky as the cops arrived on the scene.

“You could if you worked on your flexibility.” Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed his cheek. His cologne tickled your nose.

“Will you help me with that?” Jon smirked.

You nuzzled his cheek. “Maybe.” Your phone beeped from your pocket. Jon landed on the roof of a office building and set you down. Only then, did you take your phone out of your pocket. One phone dropped forty feet was enough. “Crap, I’m supposed to be home in ten minutes. Dick texted me a warning.”

“Well, we will have to fly fast then.” Jon took off his coat. “It’s only like fifty miles.” He wrapped the coat around you. You smiled, putting your arms through once your phone was safely back in your pocket.

“Remember we went to see the new Disney movie,” you warned as Jon scooped you up again. You snuggled into his chest, loving how warm he was.

“Yep, and it was okay. We went to pizza afterwards.” Jon floated off the roof and high into the sky. “At least that’s not a lie.”

You snorted, but stayed quiet. Jon picked up speed, flying faster than what was comfortable for you. You hid your face into his shoulder so the wind wouldn’t bite your face.

A few months had passed since Christmas break. You went back to school, and the normal humdrum of life. However, this time you had a spark of excitement. A spark named Jon.

Jon and you had dates every weekend. They started out slow as Dick had a crisis with the idea of you dating. Those first few dates were at the house under Dick’s watchful and annoying eye. Eventually, with Kori’s support, the dates were allowed to be out of the house and without supervision.

Thus, without supervision, the dates took a different turn. Jon and you would often go on patrol in different cities, stopping for dinner at some point during the night. You never went far from home, but far enough that your activities wouldn’t appear in local papers for Dick or Kori to see.

You dared to say that these patrol nights with Jon were the first times you felt like yourself since your dad died.

Jon slowed down. You looked out to see the big top of Dick’s circus in the distance. “Are you cold?” Jon whispered as he floated down to land in the woods a few blocks down from your house.

“Nah.” You kissed his lips before he set you down. Your lips tingled at the pressure. Jon pulled the mask off your eyes. “You’re keeping me warm.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, but you took the opportunity to rip off his mask. The two of you had a debate about what to patrol in. Jon wanted to be Superboy and you Robin, but when you informed him about the price on Robin’s head, he changed his mind. Therefore, you settled with plain civvies and simple face masks.

“No fair.” Jon pouted. You kissed him on the lips to wipe the pout off his face. “That’s better.” He panted slightly.

You took off Jon’s jacket and handed it back to him. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.” The mask went into the secret pocket you had sewn into your jeans. Luckily, you did your own laundry, so you didn’t have to worry about Dick or Kori finding out.

“You’re so paranoid.” Jon put on his jacket before taking your hand to lead you out of the woods.

“Better paranoid than dead,” you said automatically. Jon flinched, looking at you in surprise. You realized what you said, swallowing hard. “Sorry, it’s something Dad always said.”

Jon smiled at you sadly. He kissed your temple. “That’s okay.” He squeezed your hand. How could he be so warm all the time? You wondered if it was a Jon thing or a Kryptonian thing. “So are you worried what people will think if they catch us leaving the woods all the time?”

“Yes, but I’d rather have people thinking we’re messing around in the woods than...doing what we’re doing.” The two of you walked down the street. You could see the front light was on at your house. Dick would be watching. “Have you asked your parents about spring break?”

“I’ve mentioned it. Apparently, they’re talking it over with Dick and Kori.” Jon swung your arm playfully. “I let them know how much I would like to go, even if it’s mostly to see you.”

You snorted. “I know you want to go to Disney World too. You’ve been talking about the new Star Wars ride all the time.” Jon kissed your cheek.

“True, but I think it’s funny you want me to go so bad.” Jon winked at you. The blood burned to your face.

“Well, I don’t want to get trapped there with just Dick and Kori.” You shivered. “Kori is planning everything, because she’s determined to get the most of her first time at ‘the Disney World’.” Jon chuckled. “She wants me to wear ears, Jon. Like mouse ears.” Horror chilled your heart. What would your dad think of such a thing? “Even Dick didn’t try to put those on me last time we went.”

“I don’t know.” Jon shrugged, smiling at you teasingly. “I think you’d look cute.”

You smacked his arm. He laughed. Your hand stung as the hit hurt you more than him. “Watch it, Superboy or no more kisses.” You narrowed your eyes into a batglare.

Jon bit his lip, trying to stop laughing. The two of you finally reached the front steps of your house. You could see the shadow of Dick watching from the window. “I’ll text you when I get home,” Jon whispered, tensing as he sensed Dick’s eyes on him.

“You better.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before going into the house. Once at the door, you blew him one last kiss. Jon caught it with his hand and pressed it to his heart. Then he jogged away until he was in a safe place to fly home.

Three, two, one. “How was the movie?” Dick asked, hovering behind you. You sighed.

“It was okay.” You took off your coat and shoes. “How was your date night?”

“Good. Got home before you.” Dick crossed his arms. You could feel him studying you.

“Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” you muttered, getting some water from the fridge.

Dick frowned. “What was that?” He closed the front door and locked it securely.

“Nothing.” You headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“Remember we have that meeting with the guidance counselor tomorrow,” Dick said, following you up. You hummed. When you were almost to your room, Dick caught your arm. He kissed your forehead. “Good night, honey.”

“Good night.” You pulled away. “Good night, Kori,” you said, raising your voice to be heard through the bathroom door.

“Sleep well, baby,” Kori shouted back. You went into your room. The click of the door was soothing. You leaned against the door and sank to the floor. Your phone beeped.

“I’m home,” Jon texted. You smiled.

“Good. I was getting worried.” You slowly got to your feet and dressed in your pajamas. Once you were settled into bed, you went back to your phone.

A smile pulled at your lips. “Dad says it’s a go.”

“Awesome. I won’t have to suffer alone.” You added a relieved emoji. “Good night, Jon.”

Jon sent a picture of the night sky. You smiled when you could recognize the stars due to the star chart Jon had given you for Christmas. “Good night, (Y/N). Pretty, beautiful you.”

You blushed. “Damn you,” you whispered. He could make you blush even though text. You heard Kori leave the bathroom and got up to brush your teeth.

***

“I don’t like this,” Dick said as he moped to the car. “(Y/N) should stay in high school at least another year.”

“Dick, you remember what the guidance counselor said. The school can’t offer the academic challenge (Y/N) needs, besides, (Y/N) wants this.” Kori soothed, taking his hand.

Meanwhile, you trailed behind them. You wanted to cheer, jump around, maybe do a backflip. It was the first time in a long time you felt so happy. You were going to graduate this spring, and then you could do whatever you wanted. Dick looked back at you and you did your best not to appear like you had won the lottery.

“This doesn’t mean you’re an adult.” Dick narrowed his eyes, hurt. “And you’re still going to school nearby.”

“Aww, no Yale?” you teased, taking out your phone to text Jon the news.

Dick opened his mouth, but Kori cut him off. “Not yet. Maybe after a year or two?” Kori rubbed Dick’s back. She gave you a look to tell you to take it easy. You pouted slightly. Why couldn’t you be happy about getting what you want?

You all got into the car. Dick shook his head as he drove out of the parking lot. He came to his own conclusion. “No, (Y/N) is not going to college. They’re too young.”

“I’m not too young.” You scowled at him when he glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “I want to go, Dick. Why do you have to hold me back all the time?”

“I do not hold you back.” Dick turned into the driveway quickly. “You don’t know what’s best for you.”

Rage filled you. “I know what’s best for me.” Your voice took a dangerous tone. Kori peered back at you worriedly. Dick spun to face you.

“No, you don’t. Damn it. You aren’t ready.” Dick’s mouth twitched, temper flaring. What right did he have to get mad over this? You were finally getting what you wanted. More freedom.

“Shut up!” You exploded, barely stopping yourself from punching Dick in the nose. Dick’s eyes widened in slight surprise when you jumped out of the car. You needed to get away from him.

“(Y/N).” Kori got out of the car and put a twenty in your hand. “Go get some ice cream and come back later. We’ll all talk once we have cooler heads.” She gave Dick a pointed look. Dick had gotten out of the car, ready for a battle of wills. His shoulders sank at her look.

“Fine.” You spun on your heel and walked down the street, not actually going toward the ice cream place. Dick started to follow you, but Kori stopped him. You broke out into a run as your heart boiled with frustration. You had never wanted to go to school, and the only reason you didn’t throw more of a fuss is because you knew you could graduate this year. Now that it was decided for sure, Dick threatened to take it away.

Tears stun your eyes as you ran faster. A car honked at you when you ran out into the middle of the street. However, you kept running until you reached the woods where Jon always took off from. Once inside, you took out your phone and dialed Jon’s number.

“Hello, beautiful.” Jon laughed. Your lips pulled into a smile at the sound of his voice. You sank down to sit against a tree.

“Hi.” You sniffled, brushing away tears with your hands.

“Woah, hey. What’s wrong?” Jon’s voice instantly turned into that soothing soft tone he always took when you cried. Embarrassingly, Jon saw you cry a lot.

You swallowed hard. “You got my text about how I’m graduating, right?”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, congratulations. I know you wanted to.” He paused. “Don’t tell me you’re going to miss high school?”

“No.” You laughed a little. “Dick didn’t like that I’m graduating. He said I’m too young and that I don’t know what’s best for me.” You picked at a piece of grass. “I almost punch him, but I walked away before I did. Kori told me to go get ice cream.”

“Ooo, what flavor did you get?” Jon asked, excited like a little puppy. “I’m trapped at school for another hour.”

“Why?” You giggled. Your stomach buzzed happily.

“I got detention for skipping class.” Jon snorted. “It’s not my fault. There was a car who’s brakes gave out and was about to crash into a crowd of people.” He sighed like he was dying. “Life is so unfair. Mom already sent me a “we’re going to talk when you get home” text.”

You relaxed. The anger slipped away. “As long as you can still come for spring break, you’ll survive.”

Jon laughed. “Yeah, and we can ride the new Star Wars ride every day.”

“Well, there’s is a catch with the new Star Wars ride, but we’ll try to ride it when we can.” You remembered Kori explaining how it worked. It seemed like a lot of work, but for Jon, it was worth it.

“As long as I get to ride it once, I’ll be happy.” Someone snapped at him in the background. “Oops, got to go. It’s time for me to sit and think about what I did.”

“You bad boy.” You blushed as you said it.

Jon choked slightly. “Yeah, says the naughty little bat.” He chuckled. “I lo...” You froze, eyes wide in surprise. Jon stopped, clearing his throat. “I look forward to see you later.”

You sighed in somewhat relief. “Bye Jon.” Was he about to say he loved you? It kinda sounded like it. You shivered, putting your phone back in your pocket. Were you ready for him to say that? Would you be able to say it back to him?

Your mind went around and around for a while until you forced yourself up to go home. When you reached the front steps of your house, you realized that you could indeed say it back to him. However, you were too scared to be the one to say it first. You would wait for Jon to say it.

Kori was in the kitchen, frowning at the pot on the stove. “Oh good you’re home.” She took the pot off the heat. “I think I messed up.” You frowned, taking off your coat and shoes before going over. There was noodles in the pot that were black, burnt to a crisp.

“Oh.” You pursed your lips. “Yeah, that’s not good.” Kori sighed, her eyes filled with tears. “How about you clean that out and I’ll make dinner?”

“Thank you, baby.” Kori kissed your cheek happily. “Dick went in to work, but he’ll be back for dinner. We’ll talk during dinner about everything.” She went to try to scrape out the burnt noodles.

You watched her, confused. Why would Kori cry over burnt noodles? A twang of guilt hit your heart. You must have stressed her out too much. “Are you okay?” you asked quietly, moving to check the fridge to see if you could throw something together.

“What?” Kori looked back at you with a tear running down her cheek. “Oh, it’s nothing, baby. Don’t worry about me.” She came over to kiss your cheek again. “I’m going to lay down for a while.” You watched as she went to lay down on the couch with her hand over her eyes.

She was emotional and tired. You eyed the pot with burnt noodles. She was also forgetful as she must have left the pot on the stove for quite some time for it to burn like that. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she was pregnant. Your eyes widened. Oh god, she was pregnant. You shook your head. No wonder Dick was stressed. You started to pull out ingredients to make stir fry. Dick should be happy you were graduating. You could move out then. They would need your room for the baby.

Your eyes burned with tears at the thought of leaving, but then you thought about how you could go to school near Jon. A smile pulled at your lips. Maybe the talk over dinner wouldn’t so bad.

***

“I’m sorry,” Dick said softly. He wrapped his arms around you, pushing your face into his chest. “I just can’t stand seeing you grow up so fast.”

You grunted. “Fine.” Dick let you go, studying you.

“What’s wrong?” He ran his hand through your hair. Kori smiled at the two of you as she took another serving of stir fry. That was her third plate.

“I was thinking I should try to apply to Gotham U or Metropolis U. They are still accepting applications.” Gotham would be a long shot as you were sure Tim or Damian would do everything in their power to block your application. You eyed Kori. Kori noticed your look, swallowing wrong. She coughed hard.

“Woah, Kori. Slow down.” Dick rubbed her back. Once she recovered, Dick moved his attention back to you. “Honey, we want you to stay here.”

You frowned. It didn’t make sense. He should want you to leave with a baby on the way. You met Kori’s eye, and the realization chilled you like a bucket of cold water. Dick didn’t know yet. “Why don’t you think about it?” You said, looking Dick in the eye. “I’ll apply and then we’ll decide.”

Dick raised an eyebrow, sitting down at his seat to finish eating. “As long as you apply to some schools nearby.” You stayed standing. “Sit down. You aren’t done already, are you?” Dick nodded to your chair. You looked at Kori for a long moment. She wouldn’t meet your eye.

“I’m done.” You took your dish to the sink. “I want to start on applications.”

“Okay, but like I said, apply to places close by too,” Dick reminded, making the ‘you’re so difficult when I’m being nice’ face. You admitted you would be happy to get away from his guilt-causing face.

“Sure.” You quickly left the room and went upstairs. Dick talked to Kori, expressing his concerns about you. It only confirmed that Dick didn’t know. He would be more focused on the future if he knew he was about to have a baby. You fought the urge to text Jon about it, but you stopped yourself. It was possible you were mistaken.

***

Your applications were in by the end of the week. As you said, you did apply to Gotham and Metropolis as well as two local colleges only twenty to thirty miles away. Dick seemed satisfied. Kori kept her secret, but the signs were becoming more clear as the days went on. You couldn’t believe Dick didn’t notice yet, but then again, Dick was always blind to the obvious.

Meanwhile, you started to have nightmares again. One night, you woke from a nasty one involving your father and Bane. So deeply disturbed and needing to escape, you started packing up your room. You reasoned to yourself that you were going to be leaving soon, so you might as well be packed.

“Honey, what are you doing up?” Dick asked, knocking on your door. You froze, just about to place a shirt into a box. The light was off, and you were moving as quietly as possible. How did he know?

You wiped the sweat from your brow with a shaky hand. The nightmare was only a few thoughts away. Your eyes widened when you realized you didn’t answer soon enough and Dick opened the door. He turned on the light, blinding you momentary. The tense silence that followed make your hands shake harder. Your carefully folded shirt fell to the floor in a heap. You couldn’t look at him.

Dick took several deep breaths before coming over to you. “What’s all this about?” he soothed, picking up your shirt from the floor. You eyed him, flinching when you saw how calm he was.

You opened your mouth to speak, but only a whimper came out. A tear ran down your cheek. Your eyes stayed on the floor.

“You’re okay.” Suddenly, Dick’s warm arms wrapped around you. He rocked you back and forth. Sobs ripped out of you. The nightmare took over your thoughts again. “Hush, I’m here. You’re okay.”

“No, I have to go.” Your voice broke. “I need to leave.”

“Honey, you don’t have to go. We want you here.” Dick rested his cheek on your head. His arms tightened around you. “You said you’d stay, so you’re going to stay, okay?”

Everything was so confusing. Why were you crying? The nightmare flashed in front of your eyes. You screamed, flinching at the sight of the light leaving Bane’s eyes.

Dick jumped at the scream. His arms pulled you even closer to him. “No, it’s not here. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t here. You’re okay. I’m here. Nothing is going to get you.”

Your body trembled. You closed your eyes, turning to hide your face into Dick’s shoulder. Dick kept soothing you. His hand ran through your hair in a gentle rhythm. Time passed before you finally stopped shaking. Dick’s shirt had a giant wet spot from your tears, but he didn’t care. You wondered how many of his shirts you had done that to.

“Here you go, love.” Kori came into the room with a cup of tea. Dick took it and held it to your lips. You drank it. The smell of it warned you it was Alfred’s special tea. The one that could knock your father out for hours.

The drowsiness hit you almost immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, slumping against Dick. Dick scooped you up and tucked you back into bed.

“No need to be sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before the tea dragged you into a dreamless slumber.

***

You woke to find your room back to it’s pre-packed state. The sun streamed through the window, meaning you must have missed school for the day. You sighed, rubbing your eyes that were slightly swollen. It was the last day before spring break anyway.

Slowly, you got yourself ready for the day and stumbled down the stairs. People were talking in the kitchen. You went in, rubbing your eyes again.

“Well, look who’s awake?” Jon teased, getting up from the table. You froze, eyes wide.

“Jon?” You ran to him and jumped into his arms. He laughed, spinning you around. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here for spring break.” Jon kissed your cheek after he set you down. Your eyes widened at the “we”.

You spun to see Lois and Clark sitting at the table with little smug smiles on their faces. “Hi.” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Where are Dick and Kori?”

“Dick had to go to work, and I believe Kori is running errands.” Lois got to her feet to get more coffee for herself. You wondered if Kori was at a doctor appointment. “Do you want something to eat? We have leftover pizza from lunch.”

You smiled, going to get a plate. “Wait, so you’re letting (Y/N) eat pizza for breakfast? Why is it when I want to eat pizza for breakfast, I get shamed and told to go eat oatmeal or something?” Jon whined.

Clark sent him a warning look. “Because (Y/N) was raised by Alfred. We already know they know that pizza for breakfast everyday isn’t a good thing.”

You took a slice from the box on the table and heated it up in the microwave. “So why are you all here so early? I thought you were supposed to meet us at Disney World?”

The Kents all shared looks with each other. You shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “We figured we’d come early before Clark had to stop a forest fire or something,” Lois teased, trying to lighten the mood.

The microwave beeped. You took out your slice of pizza, no longer hungry. “Well, I still need to pack.” You headed upstairs with your pizza in hand.

“I’ll help.” Jon followed like an excited puppy.

“Remember I have super-hearing,” Clark called after Jon.

“I swear they have dirtier minds than we do,” you mumbled, smiling to cheer Jon up.

Jon chuckled. “They do.” You reached your room and set the pizza on your desk. Jon looked around your room with interest. “Is this new?” He pointed to a picture of the Gotham Skyline.

“Yeah, I found it when I went shopping with Kori.” You pulled the suitcase from under your bed and started to pack. Memories of last night triggered a tiny headache in your temple.

Jon wandered around your room, looking at things as you packed. You noticed things were in the wrong places, meaning Dick and Kori must have put all your things back after you packed them last night. Jon remarked on a book on your bed stand.

“Jon, you’ve seen everything in here. Stop acting like you haven’t been here before,” you said. Irritation sparked. Your headache throbbed. You hoped you weren’t getting sick again. Biting your lip, you were determined to not get sick again.

“Sorry.” Jon sat on your bed next to your suitcase. “I’m nervous, I guess.” He studied you. You sighed, knowing what was coming. “Dick told us about last night.”

“I don’t know why he thought it was okay to tell you my business,” You snapped harshly. Jon flinched. A wave of guilt crashed into you. “Sorry.” You looked back down at your suitcase.

“It’s okay.” Jon pursed his lips. “I’m here if you want to talk about it though.”

“Why does everyone always want to talk?” You ran a hand through your hair. “My dad never wanted to talk, and it was great. We would deal with things on our own.”

Jon’s eyes followed you as you went to grab a sweatshirt out of your closet. “Yeah, but you don’t have to do that anymore.” The glare you sent him made him choke. “Sorry...I just want you to know I’m here for you.”

You felt like you had been punched hard in the stomach. “No, I’m sorry.” Hugging the sweatshirt, you finally faced him. He gave you sad little puppy dog eyes. It was worse than Dick’s ‘you’re being so mean when I’m trying to be nice’ face. You swallowed hard. A traitorous tear slipped down your cheek. “I don’t want to put that burden on you. I’m a mess, Jon.”

“(Y/N), beautiful. I already took that burden when I kissed you for the first time.” Jon came over to kiss you gently on the lips. Your entire body tingled like an electrical current zapped through you. His arms slipped around you, pulling you into his warm body. Warm as if you curled up in a patch of sunshine.

“I love how warm you are.” You nuzzled into his chest. Contentment filled you, safe and secure in his arms.

***

“That was amazing,” Jon gasped, shaking his head in amazement. “My mind is blown.”

“Of course it is.” You laughed, taking his hand as you both exited the new Star Wars ride Jon had been talking about.

“Now he can stop talking about it,” Clark said from behind you.

Lois laughed, leaning into Clark. “No, now he’ll talk about it nonstop.”

“But it was so cool.” Jon turned back to face his parents.

“I do admit it was cool,” Lois said, kissing Jon’s cheek as they past. “We’re going to find Dick and Kori. Remember we’re meeting for lunch in about an hour.”

“Don’t eat everything,” Clark said with a wink. They disappeared in the crowd. Dick and Kori slept late. You happened to know that Kori was sick this morning from the vomiting sounds you heard coming from the bathroom. Part of you wondered if Dick knew yet or did he think she had the flu?

Jon looked around the Star Wars area eagerly. “So what now?” He squeezed your hand.

You shrugged. “This is your thing. You go and I’ll follow.”

“I knew I loved you for some reason,” he said naturally. Your heart skipped a beat. Jon’s eyes widened a millisecond later. He looked at you. “You...I mean I like...I can’t fix that, can I?”

“I love you too.” You laughed when Jon’s jaw dropped open. “I just didn’t expect you to say it now.” You kissed his cheek. “Come on, we only have an hour before we have to meet the adults.”

Jon blushed before a big dopey smile grew upon his lips. “Yeah, only an hour.” He laughed and pulled you off into the direction of the other Star Wars ride. You squeezed his hand, floating on air.

***

“I want you back by midnight,” Dick insisted as he buttoned up his shirt in the hotel room mirror.

“We’ll leave when the park closes, but I can’t promise we’ll be on time. The buses are slow,” you said. You were sitting on the foldout couch that was your bed, putting on your shoes.

Dick frowned. “(Y/N), midnight.”

“Dick, I’ll try.” You narrowed your eyes at him. He glared back at you. Just when he was about to scold you, Kori came out of the bathroom. She was beautiful, wearing the fancy dress she had bought the day before. Dick lost his breath. You smiled, glad for the Kori distraction again.

They were going out to a special dinner alone. You suspected Kori was going to drop the baby bomb, and you didn’t want to be around for the aftermath. “Let (Y/N) stay out. They’ll be with the Kents,” Kori soothed, adjusting Dick’s collar.

And Dick instantly changed his tone. “Okay. Just make sure you stay with the Kents.” He kept looking at Kori with compete adoration. You hoped you never looked at Jon like that. It was embarrassing enough seeing Dick do it.

“Fine by me. Have fun you two.” You waved and rushed out of the room. A funny feeling settled in your stomach. Would that be the last time you would feel like a family with Dick and Kori? You quickly forced those thoughts away as you hurried to meet Jon by the bus station.

***

Jon and you headed out of the park toward the buses alone. Clark and Lois left earlier, trusting the two of you. You wondered if they informed Dick that they would be doing so.

“Oh no,” Jon whispered, tilting his head like a dog trying to listen for something.

You blinked. “What?” You pulled Jon out of the crowd that was heading to the buses.

“I think my dad just flew off somewhere.” Jon smirked.

“So?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we can go patrol a little bit. I mean you have your mask.” His eyes went to your jeans. You smacked his arm. Your hand throbbed at the impact. “Come on. We’re at Disney World.”

You snorted, looking around. The crowd was dying out. “Okay, fine.” Jon pulled you off to a private place and scooped you into his arms. “But only for a half an hour and if you hear your dad, you have to zoom us back here. We can’t get caught.” You stole a quick kiss. Jon chuckled into the kiss and flew up into the air.

***

After three muggings and one car chase, you were two hours overdue. Jon kept convincing you to stay out longer. You knew you were risking it, but then you thought about how Dick and Kori were probably celebrating. The urge to go back disappeared. Eventually though, Jon and you landed in the woods a little ways from the hotel.

“That was fun,” Jon whispered, kissing you sweetly. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” You ran your fingers through his soft hair. It took so much willpower to pull away from him. You took off the mask and hid it back in the secret pocket of your jeans. Jon did the same with his.

“It’s so dark.” You stumbled over a stick. Jon caught your elbow.

“Let me float us out of here.” Jon put his hand around your waist and floated you safely out of the woods. The hotel shined in the distance. He set you on the ground, but kept his arm around your waist.

“Did your dad come back yet?” You leaned into him, his warmth seeping into you.

Jon shook his head. “No. Mom’s asleep.” He closed his eyes. “Dick and Kori are asleep too, I think.”

“I hope so. He’s going to kill me,” you muttered, shaking slightly. “Kori was going to tell him she’s pregnant tonight.”

“What?!” Jon jumped away from you.

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Jon. You’re telling me you haven’t notice how Kori is sick every morning. She cried yesterday, because her ice cream started to melt.”

The blush on Jon’s cheeks showed you he didn’t. “Well, no. I thought maybe it was that time of the month.”

“Are you kidding me?!” You narrowed your eyes into your best impression of your father’s batglare. Jon paled. “I’m telling your mother you said that.” He stopped in his tracks. You kept walking, shaking your head in disgust.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Don’t tell my mom.” Jon ran to catch up to you as you reached the lobby. The desk attendant frowned at the two of you. You sensed they were judging you for coming in so late. “I’m not the detective you are.”

You snorted. “I’m not really a detective. Dad and Tim are better at it.” You stopped at the elevator. The Kents’ room was on the second floor while yours was on the first. “Good night, Jon, and never assume that again.”

“Yes, boss.” He saluted you, laughing in relief. You kissed the corner of his mouth before slipping away. “Good night, beautiful.”

Your heart glowed, heading down the hall to your room. Slowly to a tiptoe, you unlocked the door and slipped inside. The room was dark, but enough light came through the window to reveal where you were going.

You got undressed quickly and slipped on your pajamas. Just when you were about to crawl into your bed, Dick sat up and clicked on the light.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dick hissed. He got to his feet and came over to you. You sighed, cursing how he was a light sleeper. At least Kori was still fast asleep.

“Dick, come back to bed,” Kori moaned. You looked over to her only to see her naked breast. Your face burned, quickly looking away.

“It’s three in the morning. I told you to be home by midnight.” Dick grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. “Lois told me they left you and Jon alone. What did you do?”

You groaned. “No, no, no. We didn’t do anything. We were hungry, so we went to Denny’s.” Luckily, you and Jon settled on a story. “I would have called you, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pulled away from Dick. “I know tonight was a big deal for you and Kori, so I didn’t want to interfere.”

Dick blinked, glancing at Kori. He blushed when he saw her bare breast. “So you knew this whole time?” His eyes shot back to you.

“It was kinda obvious.” You climbed into bed, dismissing him. “Good night, Dick.”

“This isn’t over,” Dick whispered with a sigh. He sat down on the edge of your bed. “You know that Kori being pregnant doesn’t mean you have to leave, right?”

You hummed, keeping your back to him. Dick’s hand rubbed your side.

“I love you. Nothing will ever change that.” Dick’s other hand ran through your hair. You closed your eyes, having a flash of your father doing the same thing. A hole pierced through your heart. “You’re still my kid, even if another kiddo is on the way.”

“I know.” You suddenly felt better, even though your heart ached.

“Good.” He kissed your temple. “But I still want you to call me if you’re going to be late like that.”

“Okay.” You felt yourself drift off. Dick got to his feet and soon the light clicked off. Keeping the memory of Jon’s I love you in your head, you fell into a blissful sleep.

***

If you learned one lesson the next morning, it’s that you should have never listened to Jon.

Dick, Kori, you, and the Kents were sitting down to breakfast in a restaurant somewhere in Disney World. Jon sat next to you, giving you looks that you could only describe as stressed.

“You know what’s funny,” Lois began, a dangerous glint came to her eye. “I heard on the news this morning that two superheros stopped a car chase last night.” Your stomach dropped to your feet. That’s what Jon was trying to warn you about.

Dick and Kori shared a look. “That wasn’t you, was it?” Dick whispered rather loudly to Clark.

Clark cleared his throat. “No.” He eyed you carefully. “Do you know something about that, (Y/N)?” All the adults turned to look at you. You took a deep breath, playing it cool. Although, Jon was quickly losing his cool in the corner of your eye.

“No, we didn’t see anything when we went to Denny’s.” You took a sip of water. Dick’s face went blank, his month twitched in anger. Kori was close to tears, having to dry her eyes with a napkin. Oh dear.

“Oh look at this.” Lois took out her phone. “I happen to have the clip the news showed.” She stuck it in your face. You could see a person with a body shape similar to Jon’s jumping in front of the car. Another figure quadruple somersaulted over the other and crashed through the windshield to kick out the driver. Damn, Dick would recognize that move. Anyone who knows anything would recognize that move. How could you be so dumb?

“It was me.” Jon had his honest face on. You kinda wanted to kill him. “I convinced (Y/N) to come out with me.” However, judging by the look Dick gave him, Dick might beat you to it. Jon pressed a hand to his chest. “Blame me, not them. (Y/N) was safe the whole time.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jon, shut up.”

Jon looked at you. The hurt little puppy dog look. “How about we talk about this after breakfast?” Clark suggested, ever the peacemaker. The waiter came over to take orders. You only ordered toast, your appetite gone. Jon tried to take your hand, but you pulled away from him. The only thing you felt was exhaustion.

***

“What were you thinking?!” Dick screamed at you once you all got back to the hotel room. He shook your shoulders violently. “You have a price on your head! Someone is going to recognize that move and know you’re in the area!” He stopped only because his phone rang. “It’s Tim. He’s probably already seen the footage.” Dick went out into the hallway to talk to him.

You sat on your bed, staring blankly ahead. Jon was next to you, pale. He took your hand. Clark and Lois were talking among themselves while Kori sobbed away.

“So much for spring break fun, huh?” Jon teased halfheartedly. You didn’t react. Your body felt lifeless.

“Jon, we are disappointed in you,” Clark said. They came over to stand over Jon with frowns. “We told you that (Y/N) couldn’t be involved in hero life anymore. It could endanger their life.”

“Who’s gonna notice that, Dad?” Jon squeezed your hand hard. “I mean a lot of people can flip like that.”

You found yourself shaking your head. “No.” They looked to you. “That was a quadruple somersault. Only a few people in the world can do it. Dick can, so can I.” You wish you could be proud like you were when you first mastered the quadruple somersault. No other Robin had besides Dick. Unfortunately, it felt like you weren’t allowed to be proud of anything. “Tim noticed. That’s why he’s calling Dick.”

Lois laid a hand on your knee. You looked at her, surprised by the sympathy in her eyes. “I know it’s hard. You were trained to help the world in a way that most people don’t and now you aren’t allowed to do that anymore.” She paused, cut off by Kori’s sob. You saw Kori make a run to the bathroom which was followed by gagging sounds. Lois winced. “I know it hurts, but you need to know that everyone here wants to keep you safe, (Y/N). This isn’t punishment.”

“Everyone says that, but it is punishment.” You looked back at her emotionless. The worried looks from Jon and Clark pounded into you, but you ignored them. Damian’s words fell out of your mouth. “I broke Father’s one rule. The one he held throughout his life and to make it worse, he died the night I broke that rule. I murdered Bane, and by default, what my father stood for.”

Silence filled the room. You looked away from Lois to see Dick standing in the doorway. His jaw dropped open. “Did Damian tell you that?” he whispered. The blood drained from his face. All the anger from before was gone.

You blinked, dumbfounded by his reaction. Of course, you knew Dick didn’t agree with the others, but he knew what they thought. Why was he so shocked? “What do you think?” you said. A familiar headache blossomed in your temple. You were getting sick again, and you weren’t sure you could push it away this time.

The smell of smoke and rotting fish consumed your nose. Your hands shook. “No, no you don’t. Don’t go there.” Suddenly, Dick’s hands cupped your face, looking you in the eye. “Honey, stay with us. I know it seems bad right now, but it’s not your fault. Remember what your father’s letter said, it’s not your fault.” The sickening crack echoed in your ears along with a scream that sounded like your own. “(Y/N). Don’t make me do this.”

Slap

Your cheek stun. The smell and the sound disappeared in an instant. “Ouch.” You touched your cheek, knowing there was an imprint of Dick’s hand.

Dick sighed in relief. “Did you just hit them?” Jon pushed Dick away from you, hovering protectively in front of you. Dick fell onto the other bed. “How dare you?!”

“Jon,” Clark warned, stepping in front of Dick. “Calm down.”

“You don’t hit them. Everyone hurts them, but not anymore. I won’t let it.” Jon reached back to take your hand. You held his, trembling.

Kori came back into the room. She saw the situation and you knew what was coming. Letting go of Jon’s hand, you grabbed Lois and pulled her and yourself over the bed. You both crashed onto the floor on the other side just to hear a star bolt hit Jon in the chest.

“Thank you,” Lois said, getting to her feet. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Everyone froze. “Calm down. Let’s focus on the main issue here.” She helped you up. Jon was rubbing his chest. The star bolt left a smoky hole in his shirt. Clark and Kori were standing off again. Dick sat with his face in his hands.

“Right.” Dick pushed himself to his feet, looking older than his years. “The issue is that (Y/N) exposed themselves to assassins that will come for the price on Robin’s head.” He took out his phone. “Luckily, the footage is from Jacksonville, so they won’t be looking for Robin here or at home.”

“That’s a relief,” Kori said, breaking her stand off with Superman to come over to you. She hugged you tightly. “You scared me, baby.” You melted into her arms.

“However, you went against our rules, broke our trust,” Lois added, judging Jon seriously. Jon grimaced.

Clark relaxed and went over to check Jon’s chest. “What were you thinking, Dick? We’ll follow your lead on this.”

Dick exhaled slowly. He regarded you with exhausted eyes. “No more unsupervised dates.” Jon started to protest, but a look from Clark shut him up. “No more leaving the house without someone with you. You go to school and you come home. That’s it. Nothing else.”

He stopped, waiting for you to speak. “Fine.” Your cheek throbbed from the slap. Jon’s eyes met yours, still hopeful. Somehow, that look made you love him even more.

***

A month later on a Saturday, Jon’s head was in your lap as you both lounged on the couch. Kori was banging things around in the kitchen, attempting to deep clean the fridge.

“I still can’t believe how many movies you haven’t seen.” Jon wrinkled his nose when you tapped it.

“Well, I didn’t have time to watch movies until now.” You glanced back at the TV and started to search through Netflix again. “What do you want to watch?”

“Indiana Jones.” Jon smirked at you. You tapped his nose again. “I can’t believe I made you go see the stunt show before seeing any of the movies.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s fine. I don’t remember that much anyway.” Your relationship with Jon suffered for the first week, but soon you were back to the way you were before. Jon sat up to kiss your lips. You sighed, enjoying how soft his lips were on yours.

The doorbell rang. “(Y/N), can you get that? I can’t get up,” Kori called. Both you and Jon sighed at the same time. He moved so you could stand up.

“I got it.” You shuffled to the door and checked the new peephole Dick installed. The sight of a worn, brown leather jacket made your heart skip a beat. You opened the door to see Jason Todd on your doorstep with a duffel over his shoulder.

“Hey, (Y/N). Long time no see.”

***

Part Eight will be coming soon!

#what's lost is found #batfamily #batfamily imagine #batfamily imagines #batman #batman imagines #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #jon kent #jon kent x reader #jon kent imagine #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #kori anders #kori anders imagine #koriand'r #koriand'r imagine #nightwing #nightwing imagine

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

Call It What You Want

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three

Summary: The other shoe drops and you weren’t ready.

A/n: Look at me posting twice in one day. Who am I? I don’t know. I love you guys and hope you enjoy some angst and pining. Let me know what you think! Please it means the world to me!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo

Draco’s feeling towards you started to morph from hatred and disgust to curiosity. You were almost too cryptic for his liking... it was too Slytherin for a Gryffindor.

So, he started to watch you a bit closer, learning your schedule and what you did or didn’t do. Most of the time he was left alone because you were in the Gryffindor Tower. He only assumed that it was the location that you studied in because you were never in the library other than to check out books.

Each day he found out nothing more than circling answers and more questions. It frustrated him He was the best at everything except knowing how you worked. Potter was easy, Hermione and Ron even more so, but you were a force to be reckoned with and he hated it.

“I want her kicked out Father! You don’t understand, she’s making a fool of the Slytherin house and our name!” Draco paced as he spoke to his father.

It was the only answer that he could find. Send you away and he wouldn’t have to wonder any longer. His father could easily get you kicked out.

“And on what grounds do you actually have against her?” His father mused.

“Endangerment of students! She almost took down Snape’s entire potions class! She’s a Lupine father! What else do you need!?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” His father stood, “But in the meantime, I must commend you on your excelling in your studies. Very good,”

The last thing that Draco was going to do was tell his father that you were the reason that he was doing better in his classes. To beat you, he had to be smarter and ahead.

__________________________

“He’s going to realize what you’re doing,” Hermione muttered. “Or at least the teachers are,”

I chuckled and put down my notes where I had resorted to drawing instead of writing and rolled my eyes. It was hard to talk about my Malfoy scheme because I had to be careful about what I said around Harry and Ron.

“I don’t think they’re going to complain that he’s getting better grades to spite me Hermione,” I pointed out.

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

“Ha. No.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t believe me.”

“Did your mother ever answer you?” She shifted the conversation slightly as more students passed.

“Yes, and no.” I muttered and pulled the letter out of my bag and handed it to her.

My Dear Y/n,

I’m sorry that you are having trouble with the Malfoys. I had hoped to keep you from it, but it seems like not everything can be prevented. As for what to do about Draco, I can only tell you to follow your heart my dear. You were always so kind and strong, don’t be swayed. Stand firm in what you know.

I also want to remind you that the young Malfoy was not raised how you were. His father is distant and cold and his mother even more so. I did my best to raise you without high expectations, and that’s all he’s ever had. Do not blame him for his harsh exterior. Find his heart my dear. Do what you do best and find what truly matters.

Have courage and be kind,

Love, Momma

“Wow,” Hermione raised her eyebrows. “That’s...”

“I know,” I complained. “I thought I was going to get some hate letter against the Malfoys, and I get this! What am I supposed to do with this!” I slumped against the table.

“Well, your mother did say to find out who Malfoy really is... if there is more under the malice and evil.” Hermione muttered.

“Did you get a letter from your mom?” Ron asked as the boys sat down in the Great Hall. Hermione and I exchanged a look as I shoved the letter back into my bag.

“Yeah, she just gave me some advice about what to do about a boy,” I lied easily—well, it wasn’t a total lie.

“You like someone!” Ron was delighted.

I gave him a flat look and he simmered down.

“It’s between my mother and I,” I narrowed my eyes at the boys.

“And Hermione,” Ron mumbled.

_________________________

Draco couldn’t help it. He overheard you talking about the letter from your mother and Ron exclaiming about you liking someone.

Who had caught your eye? He wondered. Maybe it was Krum after all. He did come out in first in the first challenge. His hatred for Krum grew a little more as another question was added into his mess of who you were. He couldn’t wait until you were kicked out. It would solve everything.

“I’m going to get her expelled,” He stated matter of factly to his table.

“How are you going to do that?” Crabbe asked.

“Are you talking about Lupine again?” Pansy scoffed. ��Get a life Malfoy.”

His eyes met yours, and there was a small smile at your lips. Something friendly. Little did he know that it caused him to smile back.

How long was he going to live in denial? The voice in his head asked There’s something different about her and you know it, the voice chided.

You are above her, his father’s voice reminded him. You are chosen. You must achieve greatness.

Draco shoved both voices away and watched you slyly through the rest of dinner.

Rain turned to snow as December settled onto Hogwarts. Draco spent the night studying in his dorm room for Snape’s final that was coming soon. A tapping on his window interrupted him. It was an owl with a letter for him. The owl was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it as he took the letter and sent the owl off.

Malfoy, Draco,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I should be studying for Snape’s final. But... here I am.

I wanted to say thank you I’m sorry I understand how

My mother sent me a letter. I spoke to her about you, and our feud. She took me to America so that I wouldn’t be caught up in it, but I guess that plan backfired. I don’t want to fight you. Not really.

I want to say that were more alike than we care to admit, but then that would be admitting it.

Good luck on Snape’s final. If you want help, let me know.

Y/n

He stared at the letter, the scratched-out words in anger and frustration, and he wondered what possessed you to send this to him. This was different. This was new.

You were kind. He knew that, of course, but this was the first time you had been kind to him directly. It was jarring.

He was tempted to throw the letter into the fire and forget about it. He wanted to make fun of you for writing it and never let you live it down. Kindness was weak. Kindness lost the game. But were you playing the game anymore? Did he want to play anymore?

You are a Malfoy. His father’s voice scolded. You will do as I say and uphold the family name.

He folded the letter and tucked it under his pillow.

___________________________

Penelope, my screech owl, returned with nothing to say, but she wanted a bit of food for her travels. I gave her the end of my stock of her treats and she twittered before heading off to the Owlery.

Not that I expected anything. All I had to do was be kind and have courage. My mother was right about that.

Friday came again and during study hall Professor Snape came up to my table and requested my presence in his office. I wanted to argue, but my eye caught Draco’s and the look on his face let me know that this had something to do with him, and that worried me. What had Draco done?

I followed Snape to his office where McGonagall sat as well. This couldn’t be good. My anxiety spiked as I took a seat and awaited my fate.

“Miss Lupine,” McGonagall began. “It has come to our attention that you and Mr. Malfoy are in a sort of constant duel,” She spoke calmly.

“Duel? She almost took out half the Potions class!” Snape hissed, glaring me down.

“I didn’t,” I muttered. “And Draco had a hand in that too. Why isn’t he in here?” I pressed.

“He did not have a complaint raised against him by a concerned parent.” McGonagall spoke with her eyes.

Draco really told on me... to his dad?

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered. “What? Does he want me expelled? So that Draco can just coast through life? And never have a challenge? Never get any better?”

“Get better?” McGonagall mused, something hidden in her eyes. Oh, she knew my game. Maybe that’s what this meeting was about.

“Draco is... very proud.” I began, looking at my lap. “He won’t ask for help in his academics... but give him someone to beat and...”

“And he’ll do anything to beat her.” McGonagall raised her eyebrows at Snape. “I told you, this was nothing more than healthy competition. Y/n wouldn’t endanger anyone,”

“Never,” I was appalled. “This is because I’m endangering people? I would never put anyone in danger.” I looked to Snape, pleas in my eyes. “You have to believe that, after being with me all year. I wouldn’t take it that far,”

He pursed his lips and found resolve.

“I suppose you are right,” He sighed. “Be careful Miss Lupine, you are under watch now.”

I nodded and stood, taking my bag. Walking down the hall, I was fighting tears. I had maybe ten minutes to get to Hagrid’s for Care for Mythical Creatures and I was going to be late. Not that I was concerned.

Hurt flooded my senses at the thought of Draco wanting me expelled. I thought that maybe I was getting through to him... that maybe something could work out and then...

It made my stomach drop.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pansy from Slytherin grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around in my fervor.

The students nearby stopped to watch us.

“I was going to class,” I righted my robe and glared her down, trying to keep from crying in front of her. “Did I miss something? Is there a reason you’re assaulting me this morning?”

“What are you doing to Draco?” She ignored my question completely.

“What do you mean what am I doing!? What I’ve been doing for the past four years, why do you care!?” I screeched, clenching my fists.

“No this isn’t whatever has been happening in the past and you know that. Now what game are you playing you filthy little whore?”

My eyes widened in surprise as I gaped at her.

“Excuse me?” I demanded drawing my wand. “What did you just call me?”

“What you are.” She drew her own wand. “You’re playing with his head like you’re some Slytherin. Stay in your lane you little bitch!”

A list of spells ran through my head, none of them very nice. As I opened my mouth to cast the worst one that I could think of, I caught sight of familiar blue eyes pushing through the crowd and I stopped. He looked hurt and confused.

Was I doing that to him? What was he doing to me? Was this a set up?

“It’s not worth it,” I muttered to myself putting my wand away to the disappointment of the crowd.

Turning, I went to head to class. Then I heard Pansy cast her spell. I dropped quickly, dodging the spell but when I looked back, I realized I didn’t have to.

Draco was between Pansy and me... protecting me...?

“Pansy what are you doing?” He hissed.

“Taking care of your problem for you!” She snarled. “I’m tired of hearing you constantly rant about her! She’s nothing Draco! Nothing compared to you or me! She’s a pathetic excuse for a pure blood,”

Something was different hearing it from her mouth instead of Draco’s. Draco has to hate me... Pansy said it on her own accord. My gaze dropped to the floor.

“She better than every wizard in this school and you know that,” Draco hissed. “I always knew you were a jealous bitch.”

“Draco,” I chided softly.

The crowd around us grew, hanging into every word said.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Get out of here Pansy,” Draco sneered. “And leave Y/n alone,”

Pansy looked cornered before she fled the other way. Draco started to leave too but I grabbed his arm.

“Oh no you don’t,” I snapped. “What the hell Malfoy?” My voice shook and tears threatened to spill. “Why are you doing this to me? You try to get me expelled then you come and play hero!?”

“Doing it to you!? What about what you’re doing to me!?” He demanded. “What game are you playing here Y/n!?”

“I’m not playing! Don’t you see that!? I’m tired of playing the game! The feud! I’m tired of it, Draco,” tears did start to fall. “Can’t you see that?” My voice broke as I trailed off and for once, I ran away from a fight.

Part 5

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stareyedplanet · 4 years

Text

Rivalry [p.p.]

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 3034

warnings: fluff, a failing grade

summary: a rivalry between you and peter parker unfolds when you receive your first failing grade.

note: this was originally an oc one shot for a challenge on instagram, so if you see any illusions to that, that is why. i went through and did my best to change everything over. i may also post the oc version. i tried to go through and get rid of any mentions of blushing and other descriptors, so hopefully this can be read as pretty gender neutral. if you find anything though, please pm me or send an ask!

——

MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL WAS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE PLACE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. Then again, no one really ever truly liked going to school, not when they could be home doing various activities that were much more interesting than hours filled with boring facts and equations. Sure you were really good at it, and practically coasted along the entire time, but that didn't mean you enjoyed it being upwards of nine hours of your day, the seven hour school day combined with at least two hours of studying and homework.

But the learning wasn't the only thing you disliked about school. Peter Parker was another mark for the minus side.

Most people didn't have rivals, but you did. And his name was Peter. From day one you had been the top two kids in the class with the highest GPA's in the school. You had every class together. Every. Single. One. Which meant every test you both took was a competition, each of you hoping to break that tie you had held for over a year and a half.

You hadn't always gone to Midtown. You was a transfer your Sophomore year, moving from Brooklyn to Queens. It had been hard at first, and you had felt like an outcast, even going to a school full of kids whose smarts rivaled your own. Well, one did. And he was absolutely infuriating in your eyes.

The bell rang, signaling the final warning for all students to get to class. You shot him a glare as you moved to sit at your desk, which of course was right next to his.

"Parker," you bit out as you dropped your bag beside your seat.

"Y/N." Peter greeted, though his tone was much more friendly than hers had been.

The truth was, Peter had few problems with you. He appreciated the academic challenge you offered him. You kept his mind sharper because you puyoud him to be better than he was. He needed someone like that to remind him to do well in school—to remind him that being Spider-Man wasn't his whole life.

"So, you ready for the test?" Peter asked conversationally, trying to make small talk with you.

"Of course I am." You said shortly, shooting him a look. You had studied for hours. Chemistry had never been your best subject, and therefore you always needed more focused study time on it.

You wouldn't admit it to anyone, especially not Peter, but you were nervous. This unit was especially hard for you, and you were worried that you hadn't studied enough. But you couldn't get a bad grade on this test. If you did it would push Peter into first place. You couldn't let that happen.

You took a deep breath as your teacher handed out your tests, placing the packet on the desk in front of you. But the second you looked at the first question, your mind went blank.

"You have an hour. No additional time will be given for this test." Your teacher explained quickly.

You took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm your racing heart. You could do this. You knew you had the information in your head. It was there somewhere.

The time clicked passed and you kept glancing at the clock, watching as the hand moved closer to the end of class. You were screwed. So screwed because you had eight out of forty questions answered with only twenty minutes left in class.

At one point Peter had glanced over at you and noticed your expression. You looked worried, something he had never seen on your face while you were taking a test. To him the test was a breeze, but he could tell you were struggling more than usual.

When class came to an end, you were hesitant to turn yours in. Your hand was shaking and you just knew you had failed. The last five minutes had been spent rushing through and circling random answers, hoping for the best, but even still you didn't get the last page done. Which meant you definitely had seven questions wrong. And based on the way the questions you had actually taken her time on were looking, you had a feeling you had failed the test. It was a feeling deep in your gut that you just couldn't shake and you despised it.

The two days between getting the test back and the day you took it were excruciatingly long. You were glad you had no tests in that time because you felt like you had lost your head. Nothing felt right anymore. School became harder and you found herself spacing out a lot more than usual. You knew it was because you had lost confidence in yourself, but you couldn't help it. Not until you got your test back.

Finally, it was grade day. you sat at your desk as Mr. Turner talked. He always waited until the end of the period to have the students pick up their grades. It kept them from interrupting as much with questions or some nonsense about disagreements with grades. If there was anything wrong it was much easier for them to talk to him about it after class, or even after school.

You startled when the bell rang through. you had spaced out yet again and become lost in your thoughts. With uncertainty, you approached Mr. Turner, waiting to be in the back of the line so no one else would hear or see your grade.

"Y/N, I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed with your test grade. You are one of my best students." Mr. Turner said with a sigh as he handed over your paper once you stood in front of him.

There was a big fat 'F' written at the top. You had gotten a score of sixteen. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the sight. You had never gotten such a terrible grade before.

"I know you have been struggling with this part of our class. So I will make you a deal. I want you to be tutored by Mr. Parker, and in exchange I will let you retake this test. I've already talked this over with him, and he said he had no problems tutoring a peer." Mr. Turner explained as he leaned against his desk.

"With Peter? Please Mr. Turner, anyone but him." you groaned. The last thing you wanted to do was admit to Peter that there was actually something he was better than you at.

"He had the highest score on this test. And you know Peter is very good at science. I want you to succeed. And being tutored by Peter is how you can do that. So do we have a deal, Y/N?" Mr. Turner asked pointedly.

You knew you had little choice if you wanted to retake the test. But of all people, of course it had to be Peter Parker. The one person you wished it wasn't.

"Yes. I guess so, Mr. Turner." you sighed eventually.

"Good. I suggest you talk to Mr. Parker. I'll let you retake the test Friday. That gives you two days to study." He said. He believed it was only fair. Typically he didn't allow retakes of his tests, but he hated to see a normally good student struggle so much.

"Okay. Thank you for giving me another chance." you told him. You were very appreciative. But you just did not want to be tutored by Peter. You knew he would probably hold it over her head for the rest of your high school careers.

You winded her way through the halls as you headed to her math class. You and Peter shared that class as well, except the difference was math was like breathing to you. It was something you didn't even have to think about to do. And that was exactly how you liked things.

It wasn't hard to spot the curly haired boy sitting at his desk. You had the momentary thought to just ignore him and study on your own, but you couldn't risk Peter reporting back and saying you had never studied together and ruin your chances of retaking your test. So you headed over to him, stopping in front of his desk.

"Mr. Turner said you would tutor me so I can retake our last test." you said, getting straight to business.

Peter lifted his head from where he had been laying it on the desk. He nodded as he looked at you with wide eyes. When Mr. Turner had said there was a student who he wanted the boy to tutor, he never in a million years imagined that you were the one who needed help. That, and he didn't think you would ever accept his help due to your feud.

"Uh, y–yeah." He stuttered, clearly surprised to see you. "I didn't think you'd be the one who needed tutoring."

"You gonna back out on me?" you asked. Maybe if he did you could convince Mr. Turner to let you be tutored by someone else.

"What? No! Of course not." Peter said quickly. He hadn't meant it to come off that way. He had only meant it had never crossed his mind that you were the one who needed help. Really his heart jumped at the idea of getting to spend time alone with the girl he had a hopeless crush on. "So... So when do you want to study?"

"Well, I have two days. So after school?" you asked, your books held tightly to your chest.

"Yeah. That works for me. Do you... Do you want to come over to my place?" Peter asked. "To study, I mean."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Sounds fine with me. I'll just text my parents and let them know. What's your address?" you asked, seeming very unbothered and bored.

"Oh... I figured we could just walk to my place together after school. It would be easier because I could show you how to get there and we wouldn't have to worry about you getting lost." Peter said quietly, dropping his gaze down. Did you really dislike him enough to not even want to walk with him after school?

You sighed, making a face at the idea. You could lie and say that you had to run by your place to grab something, but knowing Peter he would just offer to come with you there. And you really needed all the study time you could get, so you found yourself agreeing, albeit reluctantly.

"Fine. I guess I can just walk with you after school. How does five-thirty sound for pickup? My dad gets off work at five, so he should be able to come get me then." you explained quickly, glancing up at the clock that would cut your conversation short.

"Five-thirty sounds fine by me. I think we'll be home alone because my Aunt May has work too." Peter admitted, hoping that wouldn't freak you out or anything.

"Okay." you said before moving to your seat across the room, not seeing how deflated Peter got when the conversation ended so suddenly. You also didn't see Peter's continuous longing stares at you across the room. The boy resembled a puppy who was yearning for the attention of someone, only he only wanted the attention of the one who apparently wanted to be nothing more than his rival. Peter didn't even want to be your rival. He just wanted to be your friend, and he didn't understand why you both couldn't have a friendship, and a rivalry that pushed each other to be better. It had nothing to do with his hopeless crush on you. Nothing at all.

The hours seemed to tick by so slowly for him, and while normally he was focused on school being over so he could go one patrol, today he was just excited to get to spend time with the person of his dreams. Or, more accurately, the person who appeared in his dreams.

Finally that last bell of the day wrung, and not wanting to seem too desperate, Peter waited for you by the door of the classroom. The person in question eventually wandered over to him after saying goodbye to one of your friends. You had plenty of friends. So many that Peter was sure that you couldn't possibly actually be friends with them all. But you seemed to be. No matter who you were talking to, you knew their name in a heartbeat and was always referring back to previous conversations about what was happening in their lives.

"You ready to go, Parker?" you asked him with a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready. Are you?" Peter replied awkwardly. He had been fine all day, but suddenly he was realizing this was really happening.

"Yeah. Otherwise I wouldn't be standing in front of you." you pointed out with an eye roll.

Peter flushed and nodded. "Oh, yeah. Right. Of course." He stuttered, shaking his head at himself as they walked out of the building.

The entire walk was nothing but awkward, neither teenager really making a move to talk to the other. Peter was too socially awkward to easily make conversation with his crush, and you just had no desire to actually attempt to talk to Peter. It was already bad enough that Peter knew you had failed at something.

You walked from the school to the subway station where Peter pulled out his phone and shot a text to someone. Once that ride was over, you finished up your journey by walking to his apartment. You were both silent as Peter fumbled for his keys, save for the occasional quiet curse from the boy as he struggled.

Finally the door was unlocked and you went inside, and you looked around in curiosity. You were getting to see how Peter lived. You couldn't help but be interested.

"So this is where you live, huh?" you asked as you looked around.

"Uh, yeah. We used to live in a bigger place, but then my Uncle Ben died and we couldn't afford it anymore." Peter explained quietly, his mood dropping at the mention of his Uncle Ben.

"Oh. I'm sorry." you said quietly. "So, uh, ready to get started?"

"Yeah. Let me just grab a snack. If you want to go settle in my room or something that's fine. All of my books are in there." He explained. "Unless you aren't comfortable with that. Then we can just sit on the couch." He said quickly.

You raised an eyebrow at how nervous he was before eventually shaking your head and moving towards the hallway, poking your head into the room that you could easily tell was his based on all the Star Wars stuff.

You took a seat on the floor and pulled your backpack off your back and set it in front of you, pulling out your Science supplies. You glanced up at Peter when he finally came into the room.

"I didn't know what you liked. So I got you a Capri-Sun and lots of different chips." Peter explained to you with a smile. His arms were full of different snack items. He wanted you to have the opportunity to pick for yourself.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that. Thanks, I guess." you said, feeling your cheeks get warm. Why was he being so considerate? It was weird. But it made your heart skip a beat.

Peter sat on the floor beside her, dropping the snacks everywhere. He pulled out his phone, frowning and huffing at it.

"What's wrong?" you decided to ask.

"Nothing. It's just—" he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I do this Stark Internship thing. And recently Mr. Stark hasn't needed my help. Which really sucks because I want to do more, you know? And I can't do that because no one ever replies to my texts so I never know what's going on until it is too late. And then I get behind on stuff and am not where I need to be when I need to be there. And it's really annoying because it wouldn't be hard to keep me updated. And it just really sucks because I want to do more and no one ever lets me, and I jus—"

Peter was cut off suddenly when you surged forward and pressed your lips to his. It was a short kiss, nothing more than a peck, but it was clear it had shocked both of you.

"Did you just kiss me?" Peter asked, his cheeks red and his eyes wide as he looked at her.

If he was surprised, you were absolutely floored by her actions. Her eyes were wide and you was frozen a bit away from him, resembling a deer in headlights.

"I–I think so." you said quietly after a large lapse of silence.

"Why?"

"I don't know." you replied, completely stumped on a good answer.

Peter looked at you strangely as you sat there on the floor, just staring at each other, both trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Peter had never expected for anyone to kiss him, and you had never expected to kiss Peter. But it had happened, and now you had to figure out what to do about it.

"That... That was a really nice way of shutting me up." Peter said, sure his entire face resembled a tomato. But it was comforting to see that you were flustered in your own way.

"Sorry. I don't know why I did that. I–I can leave if you want me to." you said quietly, finally dropping your gaze to the ground. You were mentally scolding yourself, worried you had just ruined your chances of getting to retake that test Friday.

"No!" Peter said quickly, wincing at how loud he was. "No, uh, do you, do you maybe wanna do it again?"

He was stumbling over his words as he looked at you, and Peter was prepared for your rejection. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he hoped maybe you liked the first one.

"S–Sure." you stuttered. "I think I'd like that."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x yn #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x yn #peter parker one shot

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mintymiknow · 4 years

Text

From Now | Han Jisung

Summary: “I’ll cut to the chase, I waited for a while, how about you? // “From now on, you and me, Let’s start something, you and me, yeah” (Inspired by VeriVery’s song, From Now)

[Jisung x Reader] [College AU] [WC: approx. 3.4k words]

Genre: Fluff

A/N: This is a two-birds-one-stone kind of fic hehe. This is a personal fic that I was supposed to work on even before Scintilla, then I decided to combine it with a prompt from the 50 Kisses Challenge. This is prompt #36 (starting with eskimo kisses before moving on to soft kisses).

A few months earlier

“I don’t see why I need to be your ‘muse’, Lix.” you chuckled, clutching Felix’s arm as you both walked.

Your friend smiled, laughing brightly, “Ah, come on y/n. Chan, Changbin, and Jisung needed a third party’s opinion on the song they were working on.”

“Aren’t you and the other boys third parties?” you pouted.

“Not really, no. Like, they needed someone who doesn’t…know them?” Felix laughed, shaking his head, “Ok, that doesn’t really make sense, but you get the point. Anyone who isn’t closely acquainted with them, there.”

“Oh, fine.” you scrunched your nose, following your friend to a retro-styled diner.

Once you both arrived, three other males perked their heads up, greeting you and Felix with bright smiles. “Over here, Lix.” the dark haired one waved.

“That’s Changbin.” Felix whispered, leading you to their table.

The curly haired one gave you a warm smile, offering for you to sit next to him, “Hey, I’m Chan. This is Jisung, and that’s Changbin.”

“Thanks for agreeing to hear our track out.” Changbin smiled after high-fiving Felix.

You smiled, suddenly feeling small, “Ah, it’s no problem.”

The other one – Jisung – leaned over the table and grinned brightly, “So you’re in the same class as Lix and Seungmin?”

“Yeah.” you nodded, “I’ve met Hyunjin a few times, but this is the first time I’m meeting you, even though we’re technically the same year.”

“Jisung spends most of his time with us in the music room.” Chan chuckled, propping his laptop up on the table.

After a few more minutes of small talk and eating, Chan decided to play the song they were working on for a class, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the melody. After the first listen, Chan asked for your opinions, and though shy and nervous, you managed to reply.

He and Changbin then went over the track again, discussing highly technical musical terms. Felix had joined them, and while Jisung was very much involved in the process, he did note that you were getting quite nervous and uneasy. He noticed how you fidgeted a lot, nervous eyes darting around the diner as if you couldn’t keep still. Knowing how you felt, he decided to engage in random conversations with you, cracking a few jokes from time to time.

By the end of the day, the two of you had bonded over a significant amount of time, laughing and walking back to the dorms as if you were both friends for decades. Perhaps it was the foreshadowing of something much more in the times to come.

Hey, what’re you doing, when you’re with me

Only focus on me, I’m only looking at you

Every day, I want you, being alone with you

“Y/n, y/n, y/n.”

You hum, eyes never leaving your laptop.

“Oh y/n, y/n, y/n.”

After typing in another lengthy sentence, you stop and turn your computer chair towards the voice, “Yes, Jisung?”

Jisung is splayed all over your bed, limbs crashing into your numerous stuffed toys. “Why are you ignoring me?” he pouts, shaking his head in disappointment.

You chuckle, “Sung, I told you I had to finish a paper for my literature class. Not my fault you insisted on hanging out even when I said I’d be busy.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather hang out with you than with the hyungs. They’re busy playing basketball or something.” Jisung smiles, moving around on your bed so that his head was now hanging upside down by the edge.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking in response, “I’ll be on this paper for another hour or so.”

“Y/n!” he continues to whine, “I’m your best friend! Please don’t ignore me, I’ll die.”

“No, you won’t.” you laugh, dragging your chair over. You gently cradle his head in your hands, urging him to either lie down properly or sit back up, “But you will get really dizzy if you stay with your head like this.”

Jisung hums, lifting his head from your hands, only to lay it back onto your lap. Despite the indifferent and unamused expression on your face, Jisung smiles up at you brightly. “Now you can’t get away.”

“What makes you think that?” you challenge.

Jisung smirks, “If you suddenly move back to your laptop, my head will hit the floor since it was initially supported by your legs.”

“Oh, you’re a genius.” you say with sarcasm, clapping your hands slowly.

“Thanks.” Jisung continues to lightly chuckle, warm eyes looking into yours with joy.

Maybe you were oblivious or just plain clueless, but Jisung had very deep feelings for you. He was often very obvious about it, but apparently, you never got the hint. Still, the male never wasted the opportunity to spend time with you, enjoying the company no matter where you were or what you were doing.

A silence stretches between the two of you as Jisung’s eyes remained glued to yours, pouring out whatever honey-like warmth they had into yours. You end up smiling, gingerly combing your fingers through his equally honey-like hair. “I really need to finish this paper, Sung.” you whisper, raising both eyebrows to stress your point.

Jisung pays no heed to your words as his own thoughts occupy his mind. Without much thought, his brain tells him to say a few bold words. With his voice is hushed, a contrast to his beaming smile, Jisung says, “Y/n, I like – ”

It’s subtle and easy to miss, but Jisung notices how your eyes shook with uneasiness the minute you heard the word ‘like’ come out of his mouth. Because of that, Jisung swallows the rest of his original sentence and opts to brush it off with a wink, “I like being with you, so we should probably order take-out, don’t you think?”

Puzzled, you clear your throat and nod in agreement, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m actually really hungry.”

“Great, just great.” Jisung beams, lifting his head from your lap so he could sit up, “Absolutely perfect.”

Jisung’s behavior had puzzled you, but you chose not to say anything about it. His expression was unreadable, pretty much like how you’d try to decipher an unknown language in your linguistics class. You puff your cheeks out before offering him a gentle smile, “Perfect.”

Oh it’s nothing big

Oh but I do have something to tell you right now

You hated big crowds. Absolutely hated it.

Unfortunately, you were required to watch a play for the sake of “culture”, according to your professor. You had managed to drag Seungmin with you since this play was counted as extra credit for his other classes, and along with Seungmin came Felix. When Jisung heard you were watching with Seungmin and Felix, he decided to tag along, dragging Hyunjin with him.

So the five of you were now outside the theater, waiting for the doors to open so you could find your seats. “What’s the play about anyway?” Hyunjin asks, sipping on his iced tea.

“It’s slightly historical.” you explain, shrugging, “With…a twist, according to my professor.”

“Sounds fun.” Hyunjin grins.

Seungmin nods, using his phone to pass time. He chats with Felix and Jisung about what they think will happen throughout the play, and while you did want to join their little conversation, the amount of people waiting outside the theater had suddenly increased, making you feel tense.

One person bumps into you as he rushes to meet his friends, causing you to bump into Jisung. You clutch the back of his jacket as he steadies you, wide eyes looking at you with worry, “You ok?”

You nod, sighing in exhaustion, “Why are there so many people? It’s way too crowded in here, they should let us in already.”

Jisung chuckles, eyes now scanning the area, “I guess they’re still fixing everything to make sure we go inside in an orderly fashion.”

“Still.” you pout, making Jisung laugh in return.

He brings his hands up to your face, squishing your cheeks together as he coos, “Awww, is y/n getting tired? Impatient?”

You glare at the male much too cutely. “No, I’m just…yeah.” you release a deep breath, inching your way closer to Jisung in the slightest.

Jisung removes his hands from your face, only for one hand to gently grasp yours. He squeezes your hand reassuringly, offering you an easy-going smile, “You’re ok, y/n. It’s ok.”

“What?” you blink in confusion, tilting your head.

The male chuckles softly, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. The way he looks at you right then has you melting into a mushy puddle. Jisung then speaks, “I don’t like big crowds too, remember? So I know how you’re feeling right now. But you don’t need to worry so much. The guys are with us.”

It takes you a few seconds to register Jisung’s words, and when you do, you give him a thankful smile. You squeeze his hand in return, humming in delight, “Thanks, Sungie.”

You and the boys wait for a few more minutes, talking and joking to distract yourselves and pass time. Hyunjin takes a few quick selfies with the whole group, laughing when you and Jisung want to try out one of the silly filters Lee Minho uses. “Hyung really likes this one.” Jisung laughs, selecting a very questionable yet adorable one.

“Oh, I can see why.” you burst out laughing, followed by Hyunjin.

Seungmin shakes his head, smiling, “Ah, trendsetter Minho.”

Another five minutes pass, and you’re each doing your own thing. Hyunjin and Felix watch a few dance videos on their phones while Seungmin talks to someone on the phone. You and Jisung continue to talk about what you’ve been up to recently since he hasn’t gotten to see you for a few days due to his academic requirements. “My term-end project is writing a story.” you laugh, “Sounds easy, but it really isn’t. My prof’s really meticulous.”

Jisung grins, “Yeah, writing isn’t as easy as everybody thinks.”

“I can imagine.” you shake your head, making a funny expression on your face.

“The amount of times Chan, Changbin and I have had writer’s block is insane.” Jisung recounts his memories, laughing as he remembers that one time he spent one week on a particular verse.

You grin, “I don’t even know what to write about yet.”

“How about…our wonderful yet sometimes crazy adventures?” Jisung jokes, gesturing to the other oblivious boys, “We can all be characters in that story. Just make me the most handsome.”

“Shouldn’t that be Chan then?” you tease, evilly smirking at your friend.

Jisung brings his hand to his chest, clutching his heart playfully, “That, my friend, is how you bruise my poor soul.”

“Drama queen.” you chuckle, gently shoving his hand away from his chest so you could gently rub the area where his heart rests. “All better?”

Jisung laughs, clasping his hand over yours in the smoothest manner possible. His touch is so gentle, it startles you for a second; you’re used to Jisung being hyper and energetic around you, so when his mannerisms today are much more gentle and borderline smooth, you feel your heart erratically jumping around. With his thumb brushing feather-light touches against the back of your hand, he smiles happily, “Much better, y/n.”

You don’t get to respond, much too preoccupied with staring into the male’s enchanting eyes. You find yourself getting lost in its warmth and inviting colors. For some reason, Jisung begins to lean closer as if your eyes were acting as a magnet that drew him closer. However, before anything else even happens, your hand that was on his chest stops him.

You splay your fingers across his chest, stopping his movements from progressing. As soon as Jisung halts, you clear your throat and look down shyly, “Jisung, what are you doing?”

“Oh.” Jisung finds himself smiling abashedly, “It’s nothing serious, but I do have something to tell you right now.”

“What’s that?” you ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

A million questions and thoughts run through Jisung’s mind this instance, making him freeze on the spot and unable to answer your question. Was he really going to risk it now, or was he going to wait for another time? Like he always did?

He remains like that for a while, eyes glued to the ground as you anxiously wait for him to end the silence. When your hand slips from his chest, he snaps out of his daze and immediately grabs your hand, his grip tight enough to make sure you didn’t let go, but gentle enough to not startle you.

“Y/n,” he starts, eyes serious but ambiguous, “I might need to pee in the middle of the play.”

“Oh…oh.” you stutter, blinking rapidly as you’re unsure on how to respond. “That’s fine…I guess?”

Just then, the ushers announce that the audience could now enter the theater and find their seats accordingly. Seungmin turns to the group and gestures for you all to go inside the doors, “Shall we?”

Hyunjin leads the way with Seungmin and Felix happily following. You look up at Jisung who seems to have reverted back to his sunny and carefree self, squeezing your hand, “Let’s go, let’s go y/n!”

He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything, pulling you along inside the theater with his fingers still laced with yours.

I’ll cut to the chase

I waited for a while, how about you?

Don’t act like you didn’t hear me

Even if it’s embarrassing

Tell me, tell me

You’re my all, my all, my all

You’re mine mine mine mine

We’ve become something special, we’re together now, yeah

After the whole play incident, Jisung had somehow managed to avoid you. Why he was avoiding you, you didn’t know, but he surely was.

When the play finished, he suddenly left, saying Chan and Changbin needed him for a song, leaving Seungmin to take you back to the dorms.

Throughout the whole week, he didn’t meet with you, not even once. There were small conversations through text and whatnot, but no personal interactions. Hyunjin said it was because Jisung had a lot on his plate, but Felix and Seungmin knew otherwise. When you had asked Chan about it, the older male explained that Jisung needed “to sort a few things out, but he’ll be fine in no time”.

Leaving it at that, you went on with your routine as you normally would. But when Minho invited all his friends – including you – to a party, you knew Jisung would be there as well. And somehow, you’ve never felt more nervous in your entire life.

It was like when you met him the first time.

So here you were, all dressed up and bothered by the obnoxiously loud music. Yes, it was more bearable with Minho, Hyunjin and Felix having an impromptu dance battle with Changbin as the self-appointed MC and judge, but somehow, you still felt like partying wasn’t really your go-to activity.

After telling Seungmin that you’d just be outside to take a breath of fresh air, you found yourself standing below the starry sky, the chilly breeze keeping you company for the time being. After you hear Changbin yell at Minho for nearly kicking him in the face, you end up laughing to yourself in amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

Your smile disappears as you hear a familiar voice questioning you. You turn around to see that Jisung had walked out of the party, hands shoved into his jacket’s pockets. You shake your head, avoiding his gaze, “Nothing, really.”

He stands next to you, eyes silently studying you. Suddenly feeling vulnerable and small, you clear your throat to ask, “I didn’t see you the whole time. Were you…?”

“Oh, I was with Chan by the snacks.” Jisung laughs lightly.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you all week.” you finally say, crossing your arms and shrugging.

The male sighs, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, “Ah, well…I had some things to deal with, but I’ve got it covered. It’s all good now.”

You hum, nodding your head slowly. Tearing your gaze away from him, you opt to stare straight ahead. “I thought you were…I don’t know, avoiding me or something.” you admit.

Jisung shakes his head, a mellow smile curling at his lips, “Please, no, y/n. It wasn’t anything like that.” He sighs, bringing his gaze up to the stars watching the two of you from above, “True, it had something to do with you, but I wasn’t exactly avoiding you. I was just, you know. Yeah.”

You look at the male beside you, studying his face; the way the moonlight put emphasis on his gentle yet handsome features, or how the stars were cloned into his eyes, or the way his honey hair was wisped around perfectly like well-calculated brush strokes. “What is it, Jisung?” you whisper, “Tell me, please. You’ve been acting all serious and saying you’d have something to say, but then you’d end up joking around and leaving me hanging like some movie cliffhanger.”

He then turns to you, eyes passionately searing into yours. “I’ll cut to the chase then, y/n.”

“Please.” you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever he had to say.

Jisung sighs, reaching both hands out so that he could take ahold of yours. With his hands clasped around yours securely, he says with a low voice, “For some reason, whenever I wanted to say something, I’d change my mind and back out. But, I waited for a while, and now all I want to say is that I like you, y/n. I really, really do.”

You blink a few times before staring into blank space; your throat had gone desert-dry, words jamming in your throat as your brain tries to keep up with your frazzled thoughts. The silence is too much to bear, and Jisung begins to slowly pout, “Don’t act like you didn’t hear me, y/n. Please say something – anything.”

“I’m sorry.” you blurt out, biting your lip unconsciously, “It’s just…I never expected you of all people to actually feel the same.”

“Come again?” it’s Jisung’s turn to blink a few times.

You chuckle, scrunching your nose in response, “I like you too, silly. I have for a while. I just never said anything because I’m a nervous wreck. But…Chan did know about it.”

“Oh come on.” Jisung laughs heartily, letting go of one hand to pinch your cheek, “You, y/n, have made me a nervous wreck countless times.”

“Guess we had that in common.” you reply, grinning gleefully.

Jisung is filled with a surge of confidence as he pulls you closer to him, letting go of your hands only to have his arms around your waist. Your hands find their place on his shoulders as you giggle softly. “You’re my all, y/n.” Jisung whispers, gingerly rubbing his nose against yours a few times.

You bite back another giddy smile, stomach bursting with equally giddy butterflies. “I’m starting to think this is why Chan said you had a love song in the progress.”

“Oh, that.” Jisung winks, “Maybe, who knows? You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hmm?” you hum, smirking at the male.

Jisung mirrors your expression, “Only my baby can hear the sneak peek for this track.”

“Oh, so am I your baby now?” you laugh happily, bringing your hands to cup his face.

He scrunches his nose in the same way you always did. “I’d like that. Do you?”

You smile in response, not even bothering to hide the way your eyes lit up with the brightest blaze ever. “Will this answer your question?”

From now on, you and me

Let’s start something, you and me, yeah

You give his nose one last gentle caress before you bring yourself closer, placing a chaste kiss onto his lips. Jisung responds in kind, lips attacking yours with soft and tender kisses. After one kiss lasts a second longer than the rest, you pull back just enough to peer into his eyes once again, “From now on, it’s you and me, yeah?”

“You and me.” Jisung smiles, leaning in to give you one more kiss.

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