#Actually took me longer than expected given that I had to drag my ass from the game to finish this lmao

[astro-cattus]

Cerberus Pebble

inspo

no text version and speedpaint :^] (sound warning)

[beautifulblooms]

A Lord Brought to His Knees - Karl Heisenberg x Male Reader SMUT

So I may have more things to pull out of my hell that is google drive, anyways, enjoy this shit show, not actually proofread btw, this hasn’t been touched in at least a good couple years, so once again first person pov might be shitty.

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Let’s just start off with how Karl ended up in this situation, he decided to be a bitch for much longer than he should’ve been. You were both called to a meeting held by Mother Miranda and of course, Karl wanted to try and tease you. Wrong day, wrong time, things were already going haywire because of some mishaps in the factory that day. One of the dead bodies that had been experimented on got out of its little holding area and started causing havoc. This led to a very upset you, a few broken tables and doors, and one very dead experiment. So when Karl decided to tease you at the meeting by brushing up against your crotch several times, even palming you through your pants once or twice, you knew that tonight he would get his punishment. And that he wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Exiting the chapel you grabbed Karl’s wrist and began pulling him to your shared sector of the Romanian countryside you lived in.

“Woah, what's with the rush doll? We’ve got plenty of time to get back to the factory before dark, besides none of the lycans would dare touch either of us.” Karl said trying to A. figure out what pissed you off and B. calm you down a bit.

“Oh trust me, I’m well aware of that, but you on the other hand should be worrying about what’s going to happen as soon as we make it back to that factory. Now walk faster.” There was nothing but anger and bitterness dripping from your words as the walking pace you set became faster. Karl realized he might’ve pushed you too far and now he would have to deal with the outcome, he could handle it, right? Spoiler alert, no he couldn’t. Upon reaching the factory and opening the main doors, you dragged Karl inside and slammed the door shut. “You have exactly five minutes to get your ass up to our room, strip naked, and lay yourself out on that bed before I come up there and give you what you deserve.”

There was nothing but anger and lust in your voice as you gave him very clear instructions about what you expected of him. Karl soon hightailed it up the stairs, taking off his hat, coat, and glasses on the way up. Opening the door to your shared room he began stripping the rest of his clothes, his boots and socks followed by his belt and necklace. Quickly pulling off his shirt and pants along with his underwear he jumped onto the bed, laying himself out like you instructed. You, on the other hand, took your sweet time to get the ropes you had been saving, nylon ropes so they wouldn’t hurt his wrists and ankles too badly and walked up to the bedroom where a naked Karl awaited you.

Walking through the still-open door you looked to the right to see Karl on the bed, sprawled out with a hard-on. A smirk came over your lips, happy he so easily followed directions given how bratty he was earlier. Placing the ropes on the bedside, you began to strip yourself, slowly of course to tease Karl. Once you were down to nothing but your boxers you grabbed the first bundle of the nylon rope, unraveling it to tie up his ankles.

“You my dear have been very obnoxious today, and because of that,” you tied his left ankle to the bedpost, “you will be at my will for the next several hours.” Finishing off his right ankle you moved back to the nightstand to grab the next bundle before repeating a similar process with his wrists at the top of the bed.

“C’mon I didn’t tease you that much I mean it didn’t even look like ya got hard from it.” Karl’s words were shaky, trying to reason with a very angry and horny you was not going well for him, nor would it go well over the rest of the evening.

“I don’t want to hear it, you pushed it too far on a really shitty day and now, here’s the consequences.” A twisted smile replaced your previous expression, finally getting to remind Karl that when he teases there are in fact things you can and will do as retaliation. Finishing up his wrists, you stood back and moved to the end of the bed, staring down at the lovely sight. The powerful Lord Heisenberg tied to his bed with a raging boner almost begging to be touched at all. Walking back over to the nightstand you open the drawer on the bottom, pulling out a black gift box, this is where Karl starts to regret what he did. Once open, all the lovely little toys and things you could ever want to use on Karl were inside vibrators, fleshlights, plugs, dildos, cock rings, and even a cock cage, to say you had the strangest order history from the Duke was an understatement.

Looking down at your options, you pulled out one of the vibrators that you could strap around his dick and one of the larger plugs. Placing the box by his feet you crawl onto the bed and straddle his chest to face his dick, strapping the vibrator around his cock and turning it on pretty high he began to jerk his hips up at the mild touch from you, and extreme stimulation he was now experiencing.

“Oh fuck me, why so god damned high?” Karl was groaning and forced some words out in protest of your actions.

“I will just give it a while, and it’s turned up so high because I said so.” There was a bittersweet tone to your voice, happy with how he was taking the punishment. Moving off his chest, you turned around and shuffled between his legs, now grabbing the plug you pulled out. “This will stand in for me for a little bit, so get comfy.” You smiled sickly at him, the face he made was enjoyable to you given what you were currently doing. Pushing the plug to his rim, you started slowly feeding it into his hole, moans left the lord below you. Finally bottoming out the plug, you began to thrust it in and out of him gently, trying to make this enjoyable for him for the short period you were touching him. Thrusting it in one last time, you let go of the glass plug that now sat inside of him, a small noise of distaste left his mouth when you stepped off the bed and moved to the desk chair on the other side of the room, in perfect view of the bed.

“So are you just going to watch me deal with all of this from over there?” Karl was upset that you weren’t touching him, his words still shaky, and struggled as the vibrator continued its job.

“Yeah, I am, I might just read a few chapters of a book while I’m at it.” Another sickly sweet smile was sent in his direction while you grabbed the book off the desk to your left, opening it to where you had read last. However, Karl was rather determined to get you to touch him, moaning, groaning, and whining too loud for you to focus on the words written on the page.

“Please just come touch me, anything, please, I’m sorry, ple-” Karl’s sentence was quickly cut off by his first orgasm of the night, you were honestly surprised it took this long considering you had put the vibrator on nearly 5 minutes ago.

“I thought I made myself very clear that I was going to let you deal with all that for a while before I did anything, this is your punishment remember?” Without even looking up from the book you tried to remind him once more that he was in the dog house for the shit he pulled earlier. Trying to once again focus on the novel in your hands you took a deep breath and started reading. The sounds of Karl’s moans and whines were pleasant background noise at this point, you were now able to tune them out to some degree, but still keep track of how many orgasms he was having.

Finishing off the 20th page of that evening, you looked over at Karl for the first time since you sat down. His face was covered in tears, spit dribbled down his chin and mixed into his beard as his abdomen and thighs were drenched in his own cum. The sight could make anyone turned on, but knowing that this happened because of you made it even better. Accepting that his five orgasms were enough without your help, you grabbed the bookmark and placed it between the pages, closing and setting down the book on the desk before standing up. Walking to the end of the bed you smiled at Karl.

“How do you feel baby?” Your mind was still set on making sure he knew better than trying to tease you in front of everyone again.

“Please just fucking touch me, it hurts please, I’m sorry I won’t do it again just *groan* touch me” Satisfied with the response you got, you crawled onto the bed, sitting between his legs as you turned off the vibrator and took it off, his cock red and angry, still hard as could be even with cumming five times. Leaning up to his face, you kissed him as a reward for putting up with this for so long. He could’ve just used the safeword after the first few orgasms but he stuck through it like a good little puppy.

“You wanna be touched huh? Who do you want to touch you, who makes you feel the best?” There was still something in you that knew he wasn’t quite broken to where you wanted him, persistent to get him to whine and beg for your dick a little more.

“You, I want you to touch me please, you’re the only one that makes me feel good, please just fuck me, fuck me (y/n)” There it was, that’s all you needed to hear to make you pull the plug out of his ass. Standing up to pull your boxers off, you reached over to the nightstand once more to grab the bottle of lube you kept in the top drawer. Popping the cap off, squirting some of the cold viscous liquid into your palm before rubbing some on your cock, now fully erect at the sight of the fearsome Lord Heisenberg broken to almost nothing. Getting back onto the bed, you sat between his spread thighs, moving one of your fingers that still had lube on it to his ass and pushing it in slowly. His moans were like music to your ears, curling the finger you had inside him you quickly put in a second and started to scissor them.

“Just put it in already, I’ve been sitting with that plug up my ass for an hour, I’m more than stretched.” His bitter attitude was making you wish you had left him for another hour.

“I will fuck you when I want to fuck you, and you will be patient.” You should’ve known that he would backmouth you as soon as you started to touch him. Continuing with your stretching you shove a third finger in and continue to scissor him. The only noises in the room were the squelching of his lubed hole and his moans. Pleased with how stretched he was you pulled your fingers out and jacked yourself off a few times before pressing the tip to his ass. Finally pushing into him, you slowly continued inch by inch, his hole almost sucking in more of your dick each time you pushed in more. Bottoming out you just let the both of you sit there for a minute, letting Karl get used to feeling full and you get used to his walls squeezing your cock.

Pulling all the way out to the tip of your cock, you slammed back into his hole setting a brutal pace, only chasing your own pleasure at this point. Pounding his prostate his moans jump a pitch as he grabs at the ropes binding his wrists to the bedposts wishing he could do nothing more than rake his nails down your back.

“Let me touch you, I want to hold you, (y/n) please” Karl’s composure was starting to fully crumble, and you smiled at his begging. You were not about to let him possibly overpower you by letting his arms free so you pulled out of him and moved down the bed. He whined as you left his hole, not happy that his pleasure had ended, no matter how painful it was. Untying his ankles very quickly, you moved between his thighs again and pushed into him setting your pace back to what it was.

“Y-ou bastar-“A moan cut off Karl’s words as you rammed into his prostate, changing your angle to make sure you hit every time now.

“Be careful with your words pup, they might just be your ruin.” There were a couple of breaks in your sentence as low groans left your throat. Karl’s walls clenched around your cock as he came once more, seeing him cum only spurred you on more to keep pounding into him. “God you look so hot like this, covered in your own cum while I fuck you dumb.”

Karl could only reply with whines, not able to formulate words with how fast your hips pistoned into his. He was starting to break down to where you wanted him, finally. Not slowing down at all you continued to ram your cock head into his prostate, he needed to cum at least two more times before you were satisfied with his punishment. After a few more thrusts into him, he started to clench around you. The added pressure to your cock made you cum into him, but he wasn’t getting away just yet.

Continuing the brutal assault on Karl’s prostate, your thrusts didn’t slow down, you barely felt any overstimulation at all. His whines and pleas to slow down were music to your ears as Karl looked up at you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Does puppy like my cock pounding his hole?” The taunting only brought more whines, poor thing couldn’t make any actual words anymore. “C’mon I don’t like being ignored, give me an answer pup.”

“Y- *hic* ye-ess” managing to get but the one word out was hard enough for the lord, with his overstimulated body and throat raw from moaning. Karl’s orgasm came quickly with each pound of your hips onto his, the knot in his stomach grew tighter and tighter before he came. Well, not really. He orgasmed, but it was dry, nothing but his stiff cock sitting there and a blissed-out look on his face.

“Just one more baby, I know you can do it for me.” Your tone started to show more kindness, and I'm happy that Karl put up with so much of this already. Folding his legs at the knee, you threw them over your shoulder, locking Karl into a mating press. Somehow you managed to only get faster in this position as your cock head drove even deeper into your lover's ass. A few minutes later Karl had yet another dry orgasm while you finished chasing your second, filling him to the brim. You let Karl’s legs go from their position but didn’t quite leave him just yet. The moment you took to catch your breath, you also used to lean up to the smaller male's wrists and untie them from their bonds.

The lord was too weak now to do anything but lay limply on the bed, legs still loosely wrapped around you. Pulling out you groaned from the wave of pain and overstimulation that hit you, only able to imagine how Karl would be feeling in the next few hours. You climbed off the bed and headed to the connected bathroom, knowing you couldn’t lift Karl up, and that he definitely couldn’t walk you settled on wetting a rag and heading back to him.

“Hey baby, do you need anything? Some water or Tylenol?” there was nothing but love and pure contentment in your voice as you began to wipe Karl’s chest, thighs, and face down with the rag.

“Mmhm” so weak from the rough treatment he couldn’t even express more than a groan of approval.

“Alright, I’ll get you some water” Leaving a kiss on his head, you snagged your boxers off the floor near the desk and slipped them on, headed down the hall to the kitchen to grab one of Karl’s mugs. Easier to hold a mug than a glass in his condition. Then rummaging through one of the cabinets you found the Tylenol, pouring two into your palm you headed back to the bedroom. Karl hadn’t moved an inch from where he was when you left the room. “Here, sit up a little.” Placing the pills and water on the nightstand you helped to move him up slightly with a couple of pillows behind his back.

Giving him everything he needed you sat down next to him, running a hand over his thigh.

“Remind me not to piss you off again” A small chuckle from you followed his statement.

“Oh baby, I could remind you time and time again but you wouldn’t listen, we both know you’re too stubborn for that.” You leaned up to lightly kiss him on the lips. It was already past dusk, and he decided it best to simply lay in bed and sleep until morning, not like he was going to be up early like normal.

“You sure you’re okay? I didn’t go too hard on you?” Trying to see what level of care he would need in the morning you asked him a couple of questions.

“If you went too hard I would’ve said the damn safe word, now get over here and cuddle me.” His demand was cute, but you followed it nonetheless, not wishing to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“I love you my dear Lord Heisenberg.”

“I love you too Lord (L/N)”

[hotwings0203]

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

[obriengf]

“Is there any authority you respect?” with Royalty!Thomas pleeeease

send me a PROMPT for a 'new muse' blurb ~

Notes : THIS IS SHORT but i think it speaks for their friendship <3

"IS THERE ANY AUTHORITY YOU RESPECT?" | ROYALTY!THOMAS

The amber shade of his irises grew golden under the dwindling flames of your torch, their size widening by the simple quirk of an eyebrow. He stood rather nonchalantly; arms crossed over his chest with a slight lean to his body as it was propped between the doors of his chambers. You could just make out the curl of his lips as he smirked at your bouncing form in front of him, and Thomas knew just simply by the glint in your eyes, that you were up to no good. He knew because he was so utterly accustomed to it after years of dragging each other into troublesome scenarios and that the widened grin sitting perfectly between your cheeks was a beg to follow you into activities unknown. And he would follow, he would always follow.

"You should know by now, my dearest Thomas, that authority is not part of my vocabulary". Your tone mimicked one of much more sophistication, prompting the boy in front of you to drop his head in a soft shake as a laugh fell breathlessly from his lips. The rules of the castle prohibited the departure of chambers after nightfall, but Thomas and yourself had only ever pursued your own set of ordinances and staying in after sunset had never been one of them. Sometimes, it was merely to feel the adrenaline of not following orders, a rebellion phase that you two had never grown out of; and other times, you just needed to be close to one another.

Even now, it was deep into the hours of the night and you couldn't fathom a proper reason why you found yourself knocking on your best friend's door, torch clutched close enough for you to feel the heat flicker over your cheeks. Perhaps, you just needed the company of your most faithful companion by your side for a little bit longer than what the sunlight had given you.

You continued to smile, rocking back and forth on your heels as you ducked to catch his gaze, "Congratulations is more in order, actually. Years of sneaking around these halls and I have finally perfected the art of dodging every posted guard between your wing and the east."

Thomas snorted, "It truly sounds more like you're just that obsessed with me if you've made the journey that many times to form such an impeccable skill."

Eyes rolled back, your tongue pressing against your teeth as a click echoed off the stone walls. Thomas always seemed to have an inflated ego, the perks of being a prince automatically set him as the highest of importance. He was golden. Untouchable. He was the future king, but you knew him more than what his image preceded. Thomas was laid back, humble. He cared much more for the people around him, especially when he chose to put himself last as a priority. He took his status with a grain of salt and only ever played into the labels and moments of a boosted ego when it meant joking around with you.

"Well, of course, I'm obsessed. What fool wouldn't be so infatuated with their best friend, hm? You're just lucky that I've put up with your half-witted ass for so long."

Another chuckle sat in Thomas' chest, a hearty sound of complete joy that was often reserved only for those close to him. He couldn't help, however, slightly tugging at his bottom lip as he considered your words. It wasn't a secret to those within the kingdom that this love between two friends was one of an unbreakable bond - growing up together only further prompted the purity and nature of your connection. There was something, however, about being 'infatuated with your best friend' that hit him harder than necessary in the gut. He too felt the draw, the magnetized force to be with you whenever possible, but what he never expected was the recent feelings of a torn chest whenever you parted ways. It always hurt more, now, to watch you leave.

He shook his head once more, throat clearing as he tried to rid of the plaguing thoughts that would be keeping him up every night for days on end. Thomas eventually offered you a smile, eyes darting around your awakened face, "Did you come all this way to poke fun at my heart, or are we having one of our famous twilight adventures?"

"I thought you'd never ask." You groaned, quick to throw forward your hand and grasp at his wrist. You didn't give him time to think before you were dragging him through the corridors, torch still secured within your hold as Thomas gladly shadowed your footsteps. The castle's atmosphere was hauntingly beautiful when there weren't other bodies pacing them; it was as if everything within these stone walls, everything that could be seen, everything that could be heard, was just for you. The moonlight dictated your path as it shone between pillars and arched windows, patterns emblazed over long carpeted runners as it cast over your darting figures. Thomas found joy in reliving your childhood games, exceptionally, when it meant sharing these special and private moments with you by his side.

It wasn't until heavy feet sounded nearby, an indication that one of the guards has shifted to their new post position. You immediately backed against the wall, pulling the boy with you. He stumbled toward your frame, his spare hand reaching out to settle on your hip for stability, subconsciously pulling you close to him. His chest was pressed flush against yours, breaths deep and slow. He could see your features better now as the torch illuminated your skin, lips slightly parted and eyes doe-like as they peered to the boy through thickened eyelashes.

You gulped, watching as Thomas' gaze slightly dropped to your lips at the new angle, "It's more conspicuous, you know, if we remain here in the middle of the hall."

His focus returned to your eyes as your tone was soft, hardly a whisper. All that the boy could manage was a single nod as his hand grazed lightly over your palm, fingers entangling as he began to encase your hand within his larger hold. His tongue ducked out to lick at his lips, and he smiled. It was delicate.

With a raspy voice matching your quietened pitch, he ducked to the shell of your ear, the tenderness of his lips barely brushing over you, "Let's get out of here then."

[caker-baker]

Eternally Yours

“They’re not like us.”

“I know”

“They never will be.”

“I know.”

The villain sighed at the hero’s resolve, and stared them down with a stony gaze. “I have to be older than you.”

“Oh?” The hero entertained the idea for a second, still not looking at the villain. “What makes you say that?”

“The light in your eyes hasn’t died yet.”

That did make the hero glance over briefly, catching the villain’s near glare, but they just as quickly refocused on the sunset, allowing their arms to rest on the trunk of the tree.

“They’ll turn on you.” The villain continued.

“Inevitably.”

“You’ll end up like me. Old, tired, nowhere to go, nothing to do except grab for power and demand respect.”

“I am old. I am tired.”

The villain scoffed. “Please. You still have hope. Write me when you get chased out of your first village.”

Despite the fact that the day did come where the hero was turned on, despite the fact they were chased out of their home, despite the fact that the villain was right, the hero never wrote them.

The villain kept watch, though.

“How did it feel?” They emerged from the shadows, not at all scaring the hero, still trekking to their next home.

“Can’t say it didn’t hurt.” The hero shrugged, letting the plants under their feet grow just a bit more.

The villain noticed.

“You’re angry.”

The villain was happy.

“No.” The hero disagreed, and the plants stopped responding to their call. “No, I’m just happy I got to stay as long as I did.”

“How can you be like me?” The villain asked. “We’re so different.”

“I like my calling much more over your shadows.”

“Anyone would prefer the ability to nurture life over shrouding the world in darkness.”

The hero laughed, it almost made the villain stop in their tracks.

“How often do you hear someone laugh, Villain?”

In theory, the villain heard laughter a million times over. This was different. This was a sound of joy that reached the villain’s soul the way most things couldn’t.

So, the villain didn’t answer, and just cleared their throat.

“Write me when it happens again. I mean it.”

The villain was gone.

It took a little longer the next time around, for the hero learned to better cover their tracks, but it didn’t last.

For the second time in their life as a hero, they were chased away.

For the third time in their life as a hero, the villain appeared.

“It’s troublesome, tracking you down. Writing me would save the worry.”

“I didn’t have much access to stationary.” The hero teased, and the tree branch they were sitting on creaked, another response to the hero’s touch.

The villain did have to look up at the hero, which was a bother, but they could climb.

And the hero waited.

“I see you’ve bettered your calling.” They said, looking at the cluster of trees that popped up overnight.

“It was an accident.” The hero defended. “It’s kind of new.”

“Aren’t you also old and tired?” The villain quipped. “Were you really just living for years thinking you wouldn’t die, with no inkling of a idea that you could have a calling?”

The hero blushed.

“Oh.” The villain sucked in a breath. “You need to get it under control before you try for the next miserable little village.”

“Avoid the Westlands.” The villain continued. “There are so few with callings left already. They’ve begun killing those even suspected.”

“Thank you.”

It had been a while since the villain was thanked.

They disappeared in a flourish of darkness.

It was the Westlands the hero went to. It was the Westlands the villain furiously traveled to, all the while wondering how the hero managed the faster pace between the two.

They didn’t wait for the hero to be hurt this time.

“What are you doing?” The villain hissed, dragging them to the edge of the wood on the Westland border. “I told you what they’re doing here, I warned you.”

“I want to help the others who have callings. I want to help the ones wrongly accused.”

“You fool!” The villain threw up their wall of shadows, and continued pulling the hero along with them. “You blithering ass!”

The roots of the trees grew larger under the villain’s feet.

“Stop it!” The hero shouted, pulling back, letting the villain trip over the roots. “I’m going to help them.”

“Like the hells you are.” The villain shot back, recovering from their stumble quickly. “They’ll kill you faster than any of them for daring to sympathize.”

“So instead I’ll live on knowing I could have helped my people and didn’t.”

That struck a nerve with the villain. Were they not helping one of their people right now? Were they not trying to save the hero from certain death?

“If you die-” the villain snarled, and turned slowly to face the hero. “I will never forgive you.”

The hero smiled.

The villain fled to the Eastlands to reign further terror along their path.

This time, the hero chased after them.

“You need to stop, please.” The hero said softly next to the villain, who was content in watching the flames burn brighter. “All the people are already out.”

“I noticed you sneaking around with them, my dear. I could have stopped you ten times over.”

The threat was clear: I can be worse.

“Won’t this further hurt our kind? Knowing it was one of us who did this?” The hero gently placed a hand on the villain’s shoulder, who placed their hand on top of the hero’s.

“I wasn’t caught. I never get caught outside of the west. Besides, they were starting too think too much like the Westlands.” Their grip on the hero’s hand tightened. “How many years was it? No word from you. Knowing I couldn’t do this to the Westlands without all the blame being pinned on us.”

“Did you-” the hero thought over their words. “Did you do this for me?”

“I did it because I was angry, my dear. But I was angry for you.” The villain removed their hand, and cleared their throat. “How many did you save?”

The hero’s eyes lost just a bit of shine. “I waited, for so long. There were hardly any with actual callings. Just the accused. It’s like it’s just us.”

Not such a bad thing. The villain thought.

They didn’t stop their crimes, especially the ones that caught the hero’s attention.

“When I heard of a new lordship, I didn’t think that meant-”

“That it was me and my power grab?”

“I knew you were somewhere near the north.”

The villain tsked. “They’ve given it a name since the commoners revolted, with my support, naturally.”

“Commoners?” The hero repeated, stepping back.

“That’s what they are.” It was pushed aside, quickly, quietly, like all the things the villain did. “Come along, we have plenty to do now that you’re here.”

“I’m not staying.” They stepped back again. “I came to petition the new lordship for our people’s protection.”

“Already done. Outlawed on my land. It’s become a safe haven to whoever’s left.”

“Why was the Westlander Militia symbol on your guard’s post?”

The villain’s eyes snapped up. “Deals were made. You can help now that you’re here.”

“I’m not staying. There’s more work to be done.”

“It can be done here.” The villain snarled. “I’ve waited for you for years to come to your senses.”

“Wait a few years more.”

“If you leave now,” the villain interrupted the hero’s angry walkout. “You’ll never have my power in your hands again.”

The hero never even hesitated.

It kept on, decades at a time. One chased after the other, to persuade, to stop, to comfort.

“You can’t make-” the villain sighed, and placed their arms around the sobbing hero. “You can’t make attachments, please, love, say this will be the last one.”

“It can’t only be us.” The hero hissed through their tears. “How is it only us?”

The villain had seen this before, the eventual break of the mind, wanting for a release, for companions as eternal as you, waiting for the moment death would allow you to see them again. The villain had been in the same break before meeting the hero.

For the first time in their long history, the villain gave them space.

But it took too long.

Their world melted into modernization, the age of callings over, the age of superpowers beginning.

There still weren’t enough of them, and the public opposed the young new heroes too much.

So, the villain did what they did best. They grabbed for power, and fought back in the most immoral ways they knew how. Against the government they had their hands in, and against the perception of the public they couldn’t seem to touch.

But it took too long. The villain was lonely. And the villain began searching.

They liked the modern age for that reason - it made finding people so much easier. Maybe not the people who hadn’t been born in this era, but everyone had something to follow, even if it was just one second of their face in a traffic camera.

The villain would know them anywhere.

And the villain followed. When they reached the end of the trail, they did not approve of the hero’s current living situation.

Nothing dire, but all too meek for the villain’s taste.

Miles and miles outside city limits was the hero, in some field in some farmhouse with no farm. The hero could grow one if they wanted to, meaning the lack of flora was a choice.

When the villain knocked on the door, they expected the hero to answer with a sigh of disapproval, a click of the tongue.

They didn’t expect it to slam right back in their face.

The villain had hardly glanced at the hero’s face, and that was the most infuriating part. Their counterpart should have known how lonely it was, how delightful it was to see some familiarity in a constantly evolving world.

Breaking the door down wasn’t the smartest move, maybe, but it got the job down.

“Hero!” The villain shouted, trying to sense them among the kitschy decor.

Naturally, the hero was halfway out the spare room’s window, and the villain picked up on it. They knew the hero, more than the hero would like to admit.

They covered the spare room in darkness the second they crossed the door frame. Immediately, something inched up and around the villain’s legs.

Of course the hero kept plants in their home. It didn’t matter, the villain could see through their own cloak, and the hero couldn’t, still blindly reaching for the edges of the window.

“Talk to me, damnit!” The villain shouted, pulling the crook of the hero’s arm back, pinning their back against the villain’s chest.

“Let go of me!” The hero shrieked. “I want nothing to do with you.”

The darkness dissipated.

“Since when?” The villain shot back, trying to ignore the greenery growing higher on their body. “What’s happened, my dear?”

The hero tried to push off of them, but the villain was the one doing large acts of terror with nearly no one to stop them, the hero, it seemed, hadn’t been doing much to keep up with the villain’s physique.

“You happened!” The hero shouted. “You and your damned fighting with the public.”

“You could have come and stopped me at any time.” The villain hissed into the hero’s ear.

“And you could let me go.”

The villain froze. They didn’t want to, and they especially didn’t want to admit it.

“Give-” they cleared their throat. “Give me a few minutes more, please.”

At that, the hero went silent, and obliged the villain’s request.

“Thank you.” The villain planted a light kiss to the top of the hero’s head. “Don’t run away.”

For what seemed like the millionth time in their lives, the villain let go of the hero.

For the first time in a while, the hero stayed.

With a wave of the hero’s hand, the plants creeping up the villain fell to the ground.

“What do you want?” The hero demanded, finally turning to face the villain.

The villain had to suck in a breath. It had been so long since they had been able to fully see them in all their glory.

“You’re taking too long. I was giving you time and space, but it’s been-”

“I know how long it’s been.” The hero cut off the villain. “It was intentional.”

That hurt. But they would especially never admit it out loud.

“I need more time.” The hero added as an afterthought.

“Really, my dear.” The villain scoffed. “It’s been plenty of-”

“You don’t get to decide how I grieve. I loved her.”

Oh. This was the route the hero was going.

Fine then, the villain could play this cruel game.

“Love?” They repeated, shoving their hands in their pockets. “Love is something people like us can’t afford. Love isn’t some game we get to play.”

“It’s not a game!” The hero protested. “You’re saying you’ve never been in love?”

Never with the wrong person.

“I fancy myself a patient person, my dear, but I draw the line at love.”

“You don’t draw lines at anything! You don’t get to decide anything about me!”

“I’m far too perfectly aware. If I had my way, you’d never leave my side, you wouldn’t insist on doing things the kind way.” The villain’s lip curled. “You wouldn’t fall in love with the wrong people.”

Oh. So this was about jealousy.

It was not a shocking realization to the hero. They wondered, in fact, how they didn’t see it before.

“Spare me your melodramatics.” The hero mumbled. “You’ve had just as long as me to find someone new.”

“How did that work out for you?”

The hero took a visible step away that time.

“Falling in love,” the villain stepped forward. “Is foolish. Having room for anyone but the people like you is selfish.”

“Selfish?” The hero repeated in disbelief. “You’re calling me selfish? You’ve done more to harm our image than protect it! All for the sake of some petty vengeance story.” They steadied themselves in a protective stance.

“We’re really going to do this?” The villain smiled. “We’ve had our squabbles, but this one could level the city, even with the distance.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

In the end, there wasn’t much to be said about the fight to end all fights. Everything succumbed to darkness, even the creation of life itself.

[bokoutoe-retired]

— #43 “i love you to the moon and back” & #44 “you’re stealing the blankets”

characters; gojo satoru, gn! reader, ft. itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nobara kugisaki

synopsis; working at jujutsu tech comes with it’s risks, but with your husband at your side you think everything will turn out just fine

total w/c; 1475

warnings; canon-typical violence, blood, major injury, hospitals, iv’s, uhhh, non-canon timeline ig? i haven’t read the manga so i apologize for any inaccuracies about how curses and jujutsu sorcery works

「a/n」 thank you to @construct-witchlyght for requesting!! i’m so sorry it took so long but i actually really had fun writing this and i feel good about it! hope you enjoy it <3

being a counselor at jujutsu tech never really meant just being a counselor. sometimes it means being a teacher and instructing a couple classes, other times it means getting called out for exorcisms. despite your job title, it’s shockingly rare you get the chance to actually, you know, be a counselor.

and this was certainly not one of those times. the grade 2 curse you, itadori, fushiguro, and kugisaki are currently dealing with is not relenting. whatsoever. it’s attacks are quick, fast, and calculated. the four of you have done a good job avoiding them so far, but you're not sure how much longer you can keep it up. both you and itadori are hustling to land your blows, slowly chipping away at the almost overwhelming defenses of the curse. nearby fushiguro’s shikigami are working in rhythm with the flying nails of kugisaki’s hammer to take out the weird army of cursed goonies the grade 2 has. they’re not powerful by any means but their numbers add up. the two first years are doing a good job of dwindling their forces

the fight drags on and on, hit after hit, and dodge after dodge, it’s tiresome but necessary. by some miracle, there’s a glimpse of the end as yuuji lands a hearty punch on one of the chins of the curses many mouths. as it makes contact it’s accompanied by a loud, resounding clap, the cursed energy packed behind the hit leaves the air of the abandoned warehouse buzzing. the powerful attack brings the curse down to its last legs, yet it’s still angry, and determined to take you all out. you glance over to check on the other pair, and see they’re exorcising the final lackey. 

‘good, they’re safe now’ you think, but you’re allowed only a mere moment of relief before your attention is directed back to itadori and the grade 2. itadori is still stumbling from the blowback of his own power as the curse lets out a booming roar and you see it gear up for an attack with the sharp claws on one of its four arms. he’s stumbling right into the claws’ path and doesn’t have nearly enough time to completely dodge. panic boils over  in your chest and you feel your body move before you think about it, out of pure instinct to protect your kids. the long arm of the curse swings down and you rush towards the pink haired first year, shoving him out from underneath the approaching claws. hot, searing pain rips down from your shoulder and through your chest. your vision immediately turns spotty but you can see itadori tumble a few feet away from the force of your push. you must’ve screamed without realizing it because immediately all three students are calling out your name and rushing to finish the curse off.

you register that somewhere near you the curse bursts into smoke and spare puffs of cursed energy. it’s finally exorcised, but you're too focused on the feeling of warm, sticky blood seeping from your wound and the bitter taste of copper in your mouth to take note of who officially finished it off. the energy from the curse tapers off into nothing but residuals and suddenly three sets of footsteps are rushing towards you.

“y/n-san!” itadori is the first to reach you, calling out and falling to his knees at your side. “why would you do that?!” his words are frantic but his actions are gentle as he moves your head to rest on his knees. you can almost see the tears welling in his eyes from, in your opinion, misplaced guilt. he looks around searching for help of the other first years. behind him nobaras foot taps incessantly against the cold stone floor. she’s hurriedly dialing someone on her cellphone, presumably ijichi and fushiguro is tearing off his jacket. he does much better job of hiding his worry, but if your eyes were a little more focused you’d be able to see the slight shake to his movements as he bundles the fabric and presses it to your wound. you little out a little grunt of pain, the coarse texture agitates it but does a good enough staunching the steady trickle of blood. despite their lack of experience, it’s not hard for them to recognize this is bad. nobara finishes her call, before pocketing her phone and joining the boys on the ground next to you. she takes the edge of her sleeve, wiping off the small bit of blood dribbling from you mouth. you weakly attempt to swat her hand off, the last thing you wanted was to worry your kids or have them fuss over you.

“‘toru would kick my ass if i had let one of you kids get hurt” your words are slightly slurred but you speak with a little chuckle, referring to your husband while trying to make light of the situation. you even reach up to pat yuujis cheek reassuringly a couple times.

“well now gojo-sensei is gonna kick my ass for letting you get hurt!” he looks like he’s about to continue but the sound of screeching car tires interrupt him.

“ijichis here, lets get her up. y/n-” you can hear megumi talking, but your consciousness is slipping and you can’t decipher exactly what he said. you feel three pairs of hands start to lift you off the ground, the blood making it a little more difficult. as you look up the dots clouding your vision get bigger and bigger, the last thing you see is the crease of nobaras brows as she yells out to someone.

when you wake up, you feel your situation before you see it. the first, and maybe most important thing you feel, is the presence of your husband cuddled into your side. you feel his hair tickling your neck, his body pressed against your uninjured side and his fingers intertwined with yours. just knowing he’s there is enough to instantly put you at ease. your eyes finish adjusting to the bright morning light streaming in from the window and satoru shifts in his sleep, unawarely tugging the thin hospital blanket from your body. 

“you’re stealing the blankets,” you whisper to him as you squeeze his hand in yours, but your voice comes out a little more strained than you had expected. even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s woken up as he lets out a little hum and adjusts himself on the small hospital bed. with the both of you it’s a tight fit, but you make it work. he’s careful not to jostle you as he sits up and gently brings you to lay on his side instead of him on yours. he’s mindful of your ivs and monitors, all while keeping your hand in his and making sure to drape the blanket back over you.

“rough night?” he asks, the hand of the arm wrapped around you comes to lightly brush over the bandages wrapped snug around your torso. the pain isn’t nearly as bad as it was before you blacked out. whatever meds they’d given you had turned the sharp stinging into a dull ache. but if you were being honest your whole body ached. a long, strenuous battle on top of a deep wound would do that to a person.

“rough night.” you confirm with a little chuckle, relaxing even further into his hold. the room is silent for a moment as he catches your eyes searching the empty room for something that’s not there. he presses a kiss to your temple, bringing your attention back to him.

“they went back to the school,” he states, already knowing that you were looking for the trio of first years, “and before you ask, they’re fine. all three made it out with nothing more than a couple scratches.”

“good, thats good,” you respond while smiling up at him. if those three were okay, any pain, wound, or hospital visit would be utterly worth it.

“i’m lucky i get to say the same for you, my love. itadori told me what you did” he lifts up his blindfold and gives you a look that resembles that of one he would give a student while scolding them. but behind it, you can see the deep amount of worry held in his bright eyes.

“i did what i had to, they're just kids” you shrug as best as yougiven your condition.

“i know, i know. very admirable of you,” he jokes a little before his tone turns serious “but please, don’t scare me like that ever again. you mean the world to me and i don’t know what i’d do without you. i love you to the moon and back, my dear y/n”

“i love you too satoru, to the moon and back”

[moonbaby26]

Title: What’s in a Name?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others are finally homeward bound, flying back to the U.S. from the events in Egypt and Greece. You get to hear a little more about Peter’s eastern European roots while passing time on the plane together.

Warnings: None, just fluff and Peter being Peter.

Notes: I know where some things I’m referencing don’t match the comics. Blend of comic canon and the movie version going on here.

Chapters: Previous Chapter Here

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

The morning sun was still low and red on the horizon as you’d stepped back out into the open air of the flight deck. But seagulls were already calling from somewhere up above as men milled around, checking and readying a set of helicopters that you knew would soon be taking you ashore.

You wouldn’t miss this boat itself of course, none of you belonged here after all. But you’d be lying to say it’d been easy to let go of Peter when morning had come. You’d woken up far more tangled than you remembered going to sleep as, chest to chest, his good leg wrapped over you and one of his hands somehow far up the back of your shirt.

The longest part of getting ready had been the procrastination of leaving that bed. After that, it only seemed like minutes before you were all awkwardly standing up here now, waiting on next instructions. It wasn’t as if you’d had anything you could pack after all. Besides that somewhat silly polaroid picture you’d seen Peter carefully stowaway in one pocket of his shorts, you had no possessions to speak of here. Even the shoes they’d given you were some poorly fit military boot. The tops of them scraped against your ankles as you walked and you’d be glad to be rid of them whenever possible.

The Professor and Moira approached after another moment, Moira hurrying a little more as one of the helicopters began to fire up, followed by the other soon after. She had to speak louder over the rising noise of the blades rotating faster and faster.

“Keep these on you!” She called, going to each of you in turn, handing over a U.S. passport with a driver’s license closed separately inside. She only opened them briefly to check that she was matching each to the correct person. “The flight we’ll be taking is just a commercial plane. The government has contracted them and dictated the pickup and landing points, but it’s civilian pilots and flight crew. Normal security still applies, but only those with U.S. citizenship are allowed aboard.”

As she’d gotten to you and Peter, she’d handed both passports to you as you’d had your hand outstretched, and he’d still been holding on to his crutches. You quickly opened one just to see which was yours, so you could pocket only your own. The first one opened was his however, but even in the low light of early sunrise, your brain hitched on something unexpected.

The picture looking back at you was clearly him, albeit a little younger, and with slightly longer hair than the way he wore it currently. But that wasn’t the issue. You reread the name printed in front of you more than once, before glancing up to him as if to confirm.

It said Pietro Django Maximoff.

“Your real name isn’t Peter?” You asked, even over the helicopter noise before you could stop yourself. But the realization was already dawning on you almost before that last word left your mouth that so many people were called one name by friends and family even if their legal name may still be another. You felt a bit stupid then for your reaction, instantly wishing you could take the question back.

But thankfully he only leaned in with a smile, taking his passport and license from you even as he spoke right against your ear. “Define real.” He pocketed them, before continuing. The helicopters were at their full ready now. “But it’s a bit loud here, babe. I’ll tell you all you want to know about my sexy alter ego later, deal?”

—————————

By the time you’d gotten to the airstrip on shore, it was full morning sun now. And just as Moira had said, there was already a large U.S. commercial jet waiting there. You also found out you weren’t alone, as you’d had to join a line of people already waiting to board. They were checking credentials as people moved up one by one onto a mobile stairway that had been rolled up flush with the plane’s open door.

Looking around you, most of the would be passengers still looked like military of various branches though. Army, Navy, Air Force, they still had on their uniforms. But there were others too, likely diplomats being evacuated you thought. Men, women, even a few children as you’d seen the curious eyes peeking out from behind their parents’ legs as you all had also moved through the line.

“It had to be damn stairs,” Peter mumbled as the two of you neared closer to the plane. Without any actual terminal here, boarding straight from the tarmac was the only option.

“If Hank can help carry the Professor up them, wheelchair and all, I’m pretty sure I can handle you.” You responded, only meaning to give him a little grief.

But he just spun things right back on you of course. “Oh, you can handle me any time.”

And when your stare said you didn’t seem to find that quite as funny as he did, he only shrugged, still smiling. “Sorry, you left yourself wide open for that one.”

“I did.” You admitted. “But I still want to hear the story of that driver’s license. And why did you even have one to begin with? Seems a little unecessary.” You said, still moving up every few moments as you neared the bottom of the stairs.

Yet he just kept smirking at you, almost a seeming delight in his eyes then, realizing that you were that curious about it. “Now who’s impatient?” He taunted, just before turning back to flash said documents to one of the workers now checking them.

“Do you have anything to declare?” The woman asked him.

With the way he paused, you knew his brain was churning then to select whatever he would deem the funniest or wittiest response. But as odd of looks as you were all already getting, mostly from Hank and Kurt’s vivid blue skin as usual, it probably would be best not to test the waters any further. You did want to get home after all.

“We don’t,” You answered before he could, relieved when she seemed to want to hurry you all aboard and away from her as much as you did. She handed Peter’s passport back to him, then took your own in quick succession to glance it over as well before seeming satisfied enough as she handed it back to you.

After you were past her, it was the issue of the stairs however. Obviously they expected Peter to just figure it out, but you knew you could lend a hand. The trick was going to be in trying to keep that act of levitation a little more subtle though, still being in mixed company here.

“You should have let me have a little more fun with her,” Peter said, though glancing back with some curiosity as you moved behind him.

“I don’t want to make a scene,” you responded quietly. Really, referring to her just as much as what you were about to attempt. “Pretend you’re going up the stairs anyway. Move a little like you’re walking.”

The person in front of him on the stairs wasn’t looking back, and only more of your friends were directly behind you. With the sidewalls of the stairway also going up about waist high, the people still on the ground couldn’t see the little glow that went around his legs as you willed him to levitate just high enough that his cast didn’t drag the steps as you both continued towards the plane’s door.

“Woah, hey at least give a warning.” He responded, lifting his good leg up enough for it to also miss the now passing steps even as his crutches hit once or twice.”

“I did.” You answered, though still trying to look past him the whole time to make sure no one was looking back from the plane’s doorway. Once you’d gotten nearly to the top, you set him back down to do the last couple steps on his own and enter the plane normally.

Once inside though, the aisle really was too narrow to use his crutches properly. Maybe on a more normal flight more measures would have been taken to assist the disabled, but there sure wasn’t anyone offering anything today.

Kurt was behind you, and offered to take the crutches while Peter put one arm over your shoulders and you both half hobbled, half shimmied awkwardly down the aisle until you reached the first open seating.

Being a larger jet meant for transoceanic travel, there were seats in groups of three on both the left and right side of the plane, but a row of four in the center as well. You ended up in one of the rows of three on the side, letting Peter take the aisle seat to have more room for his leg, while you sat in the middle, and Kurt beside you at the window as he’d laid Peter’s crutches down on the floor underneath the seats.

You finally felt like maybe you could relax a little then, just glancing around a bit. There were some old magazines in the seatback in front of you, but probably not much of anything else any of you could really do now in however many hours it’d take to get stateside. You were pretty sure a passenger jet like this would be a good deal slower than the high tech military one you’d gone to Egypt in.

You were only looking up at the light and air vent controls above your seat next as a sudden movement and curse surprised you as your eyes darted back to the aisle.

“Goddamnit.” A man said.

His soft sided suitcase had just burst open, spilling most of his clothing onto the floor as he then paused to shove it back in as best he could. He struggled with the zipper a moment, but it only slid back and forth uselessly, no longer sealing the bag back. “Cheap ass government issue,” He added, finally just picking up the whole thing and holding it closed against his chest as he walked on.

And that random event would have been nothing more to you, except for the way you saw Peter move his head back then, sucking in a pained breath through his teeth as he gripped the armrest between you.

Kurt noticed too, leaning forward as he asked, “Are you alright, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure,” He grunted.

But as you glanced down to see Peter’s other hand now clutching his broken leg, you also saw a newly materialized pair of sunglasses pressed between his fingertips and the cast. As well as a military jacket now folded messily under his seat.

“That was you.” You spoke abruptly, yet low enough just for the three of you. “You took those out of that man’s suitcase!”

“Well I didn’t think the stupid zipper was going to break when I tried to close it back! He’s right, that was a cheap zipper.” Peter admitted.

“And you hurt yourself trying to get back into the chair didn’t you?” You chided a little more, not quite sure what was worse, the thievery or the recklessness.

“I hit my foot on that damn bracket, and the vibration went through the bone.” He motioned to the metal bracing that bolted the seat in front of him to the floor.

“Thou shalt not steal,” Kurt said, not judgmentally, but just as if this should be an inherent truth as he still looked to Peter with concern.

“Oh man, so I get like twelve hours of flight time to look forward to, trapped next to you two goody two shoes then? Awesome.” He joked back, though already looking back down then at the sunglasses in his hand with a little admiration. They had a mirror finish as he spun them over in his fingers. “And hey, you guys are the ones who burned up my last jacket back in Egypt, remember? I’m not going home empty handed. I’d been wanting one of those army looking deals since we got here. Buzzcut there seemed like he’d have one.”

“Mama look!”

All three of you paused your talk then to see a small boy now standing in the aisle as the movement of people had slowed once more with passengers stopping to put their luggage in the overhead bins. But his mother didn’t seem to be paying him any mind as he continued to point. She was talking to the man in front of her as that man fought with an oversized suitcase.

The boy continued staring though, likely at Kurt. But it wasn’t really a fearful gaze, more excited than anything.

“Guten tag,” Kurt said cheerfully regardless, just waving in return.

And at that the boy’s eyes really went wide. “Sprichst du Deutsch?” The boy stammered a little, yet with the biggest grin.

“Ja, ich komme aus Bayern.” Kurt replied.

And that spontaneous connection over a surprise shared language would have been truly adorable too if Peter wasn’t suddenly leaning right over you to interrupt it.

“Yo, Kurt, ask him if I can borrow some of his markers!” Peter pleaded abruptly.

“What?” You and Kurt both said almost simultaneously.

“The markers, he doesn’t need the whole box. I only need like three colors, tops.” Peter answered, motioning back to the boy. And when still neither you or Kurt seemed to understand this sudden sense of urgency, Peter actually put his hands together like making a little prayer. “You told me you didn’t want me to steal, so I’m trying not to. Come on, at least a red one?”

Kurt really was confused then, but he did lean forward, saying something else in German to the boy.

At that request the boy did look down at the coloring book rolled in one of his hands, and the small pack of markers sticking out of his pocket that evidently Peter had somehow put a target lock on.

But he really did like Kurt apparently as after only a couple moments of thought, the little boy opened the marker box to pull three out.

“Sweet!” Peter said as the child handed over red, black, and blue to him. “I’ll give them back in a bit, right?” Peter added though, smirking at him. “Thanks, little dude.”

And it was all just the oddest thing to you as the boy only happily waved bye to Kurt after, the movement of people starting again as he and his mother continued on to go sit a few rows further back.

“I don’t even know what just happened,” you said after they were gone.

“That was world class negotiating, babe. I mean Kurt literally just smooth talked some colors from a kid with a coloring book in his hand on a twelve hour flight.” Peter responded.

“You are actually going to give them back though aren’t you? You told him you would.” Kurt replied with a little concern.

Peter kind of shrugged, “I mean yeah, I guess so.”

“He’ll give them back,” You added for him. “Or I will.”

“Okay, okay, jeez. Yes, it’s not going to take me hours to do anything. Ever. I’ll have this baby gussied up in no time.” Peter responded, patting his cast gently. “You can’t leave a blank canvas to a guy like me. Especially if I have to stare at this thing for weeks.”

And he was right, you weren’t even in the air yet before he just started doodling away.

————————————

Thankfully the plane only stopped one more time, at an air base in France to pickup more U.S. government evacuees, before at last the wings were over water and you were finally pointed home.

By now Peter’s cast looked more like those advertisements or example sheets on the walls of any tattoo parlor. Yet when you made a comment as such, the sly grin you got in return made you instantly wish you’d thought that through a little better.

“Ah, so you’ve been in a tattoo parlor then?” Oh he was so interested in this topic now. You could see that wolfish look coming into his eyes. “You’ve got some ink somewhere?”

“I don’t.” You’d thought of doing it though, quite a bit actually. But it was such a commitment. You’d probably keep that tidbit to yourself for a while though, lest he try to drag you immediately to a tattoo shop on the drive to D.C.

“I’m not totally sure I believe you.” He answered, though leaning in to whisper in your ear after, “Think you’ll let me check some time?”

The fact that he was still so bold with Kurt literally right beside you, made you wonder if you really should be making sure whatever rental car you ended up with later was just some sort of bucket seat tiny two door thing. If it was a boat like sedan with a full bench back seat, you might actually be in trouble tonight.

“We’ll see,” Is all you answered back though. At least for a moment before you realized now was as good a time as any to flip the conversation back on him.

“So when do I get to hear the Pietro story?” You asked, relaxed into your seat as much as the small space would allow. “Kurt and I have nothing else to do. Let’s hear it.”

“The who?” Peter teased back, just working on giving one of the pin up girls he’d drawn a little better shading.

“Or Django. Either Pietro or Django, they both sound pretty interesting I think.” You replied playfully.

Peter glanced at you, but smiled a little. “You’re just going to be disappointed actually. I was just hyping it up, there’s really nothing to it.”

“Then go on, it’ll be a quick story then.” You still wanted to know more about him of course, and every piece was just another part of the whole picture.

“Django was my grandfather. Mom’s dad back in the old country.” Peter replied, still just finding more and more little details to add to his drawings. “I didn’t really know him. Mom never liked to take us back there much to visit. I mean it makes more sense now of course. She didn’t want my Dad to know where she was. But back then I just figured she thought that place was creepy.”

“What place?” Kurt asked innocently enough. You both were actually equally curious to whatever Peter might say about his family. Like he’d said before, Kurt wasn’t used to having friends his own age. And learning more about each other now was all part of growing those bonds.

“Wundagore Mountain,” Peter replied. “And trust me, as much as it sounds like the newest ride at some amusement park, it’s totally not. I remember being like five and going back there thinking Dracula himself was going to yank me out of that freaking soviet tin can Mom was driving us around in. Wanda still swears she heard voices up there. I mean I don’t know, we stayed with Mom’s aunt one time and she tells us this thing so creatively called Man-Beast was going to come down off the mountain for us if we didn’t behave.”

Peter glanced over to the both of you, further clarifying, “Not like Hank or anything though, it was basically just a werewolf I think. But if it’s a werewolf, call it that you know? What the hell is a Man-Beast? They had so many weird things that could take children. I feel like every story was, oh but don’t do that or Porga will get you. Oops, you talked back to your mother? Guess Tagar is coming tonight. Darn, forgot to brush your teeth? Nice knowing you, kid, Bova’s going to take you to live in the woods forever now.”

You were sort of just staring and listening, but out the corner of your eye you saw Kurt only nodding as if in complete understanding. You would hazard a guess that parts of Bavaria evidently had very similar folklore. Between the two of them, they could likely trade stories like this the whole flight.

But Peter just continued, “But yeah, Django was my gramps, just met him a couple times. And Pietro...well that’s just me. Like I said, nothing special. I was Pietro all the way until Mom started us in kindergarten.” He smirked a little. “Guess she figured the dorky little Jewish kid with the curly brown hair needed all the help he could get fitting in with all the John’s, Mark’s, and Scott’s of the world. And yeah, feel free to tell Summers I said that later.”

So she’d Americanized his name. It wasn’t unheard of with first or second generation immigrants, but still there was something a little sad about that. Yet you smiled softly, that image of the kindergarten age Peter frankly adorable in your mind. “You were a baby brunette?”

“Until the old X-gene flared at 12 or whenever that was yeah,” But he paused, a little surprised, just then realizing what look that was on your face. “Oh stop, you’re picturing it now aren’t you? I was a total dork, don’t do that. Seriously, no! I swear I will never let you find those pictures.”

But you just kept grinning. “No need. I can imagine this forever.”

“Hell, where is Jean?” Peter looked around in a little show of dramatics. “Memory wipe needed on aisle 3, Red.”

It was just too funny though, and honestly it made all the sense in the world. The physical resemblance between Peter and Erik would have been a lot more noticeable had they both still shared similar hair color and texture. Yes, you would bet Peter’s hair had even had that bit of auburn in it too back then.

“But I do have a question,” You spoke then, your tone sincere. “What do you actually want to be called?”

“Sexy?” He answered at once.

But you didn’t let him off the hook that easily, still waiting patiently for the real answer as you just watched him.

Finally he relented, but still seeming a bit non committal. “I mean I’ve heard both for so long, I answer to either. Really, I do. But if the Django comes out though, that’s Defcon 1. It means I’ve done something catastrophically wrong and Mom is about to go full on nuclear on my ass.”

You considered this for a moment, before trying it. “Pietro,” you said, looking for any difference in his expression.

He did grin at you, eyebrows going up a little.

“Peter?” You asked then.

And to that he just continued to smile. “Babe, it’s like you’re trying to pick the name of the new dog.” He raised the pitch of his voice a little, imitating a generic wife you guessed. “Honey, which one does he like better? Did his ears go up at that one?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to figure things out,” you defended. “Guess I’ll just go back to imagining all that curly brown hair now.”

“Noooo.” He whined.

———————————

The three of you had joked and talked for quite a while. But somewhere, maybe about two thirds through the flight, things did quiet back down. Eventually you decided to try and sleep some if you could. You weren’t tired yet, but you knew you would be by the time you landed.

With the difference in timezones, even though you’d left early in the morning Greek time, it would likely only be around lunch time in the U.S. after landing. While you already would have been traveling for almost twelve hours.

It was as if you’d get to repeat the day all over again. You had all that time still ahead of you, including having to convince the Professor to let you drive Peter home.

You closed your eyes for a bit, thinking of all the hypotheticals of what you could say. What you would argue if needed, and what Xavier may say in response. But as you tried to let your thoughts drift further, you realized you’d crossed your arms, little chill bumps on them as you opened your eyes to look up at the air vent above you.

Was it stuck open? You fiddled with it a moment, but felt no difference. Shifting to sit back up a little, you looked at the seatback in front of you again as well, in the pouch there with the old magazines.

“They don’t have any blankets,” Peter said quietly, easily interpreting the reasoning for your search.

You’d thought he’d already been asleep just as Kurt was though. You were surprised as Peter reached out, smoothly laying that jacket over your chest and arms. The one he’d taken earlier.

“See.” He added. “Crime does pay sometimes.”

You gave him a skeptical look still, but the jacket really did make the difference as you leaned back again in the seat, snuggling into it. “Thank you, thief.” You answered softly.

“Any time.” He smiled a little, before reaching down to click the button on the armrest between your seats. He moved the armrest up and out of the way, then running a warm hand under the jacket to find one of your own.

You grasped his hand when they met, intertwining your fingers together.

“Have a nice nap, see you in Jersey.” He said, yet closing his own eyes as well.

“See you in Jersey, Pietro.”

You felt him squeeze your hand more at that, and you couldn’t help but smile.

————————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

You wrote your opinions on the Order of the Phoenix, what about the Death Eaters? That's another way of saying Lucius, Bellatrix, and anybody else. I honestly feel that we're running out of HP characters for you to write your opinion and reasoning about, so yeah~

We honestly are. When people start asking me questions about Harry’s nameless and faceless classmates I feel like we’re scraping the bottom of my barrel of Harry Potter opinions.

Though, that said, this is still a very large ask if you want me to analyze very Death Eater ever or even the Death Eaters as a whole (which is worthy of its own post).

So, we’ll compromise, and I’ll just look at the two you name dropped.

Lucius Malfoy

To me, Lucius is by far one of the more intelligent Death Eaters. He’s the guy who makes them almost look classy. I say almost, because Lucius is still a racist domestic terrorist and as the series goes on Tom gleefully drags him into being less classy by the minute (his house becomes a POW camp and housing for the dregs of society, Lucius just sobs, trying to be thankful he’s somehow still alive).

Lucius is rich, sophisticated, and is probably the most politically powerful man in the country. He has a beautiful wife he has... a son (sorry Draco, but you do not live up to your father) the guy has it all.

Which makes it very surprising that he got dragged into this mess. But you see, Lucius is paying for that tragedy we call youth.

Also, as a caveat, I’m about to headcanon hard and will not bother to get into the details of why I think x, y, or z in this post.

Ten years prior to the start of canon, Lucius is a very young man, probably very charismatic, certainly believes he’s intelligent and probably gets decent grades, but nonetheless the kind of stupid you see in men ages 15-25.

He’s likely chafing under his aging father’s strict guidance, knows he’s not going to be Lord Malfoy for years yet, wants to get out there, prove himself, and make a difference for his country. More importantly for Lucius, there’s this hip, exciting, new thing that all his cousins and friends are getting into called “The Death Eaters” (yes, I don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis/Death Eaters 1.0 ever happened, I think it’s ridiculous that fandom and JKR does, I could go into why but not in this post). 

The Death Eaters are led by the single handedly most beautiful, charismatic, man in Britain. (Yes, I headcanon Tom’s still blindingly attractive at this stage, because it makes much more sense to me but we’re not getting into that here.) A mysterious man by the name of Voldemort, Salazar Slytherin’s long lost heir, who has come to resurrect the wizarding world’s true heritage and purge the land of the muggle stain. (Yes, I do believe that no one, not even Lucius who is later given the diary, knew who Tom really was. I believe Regulus’ had only the vaguest idea, informed mostly by Tom’s use of Kreacher to place the locket.) This is the most exciting thing to have ever happened, the rallies probably consist of rich kids drunk out of their minds and maybe even high on a little wizard cocaine, and Lucius is down for it precisely because his father says “Lucius, this is stupid, please don’t embarrass the family.” WELL LUCIUS IS GOING TO EMBARRASS THE FAMILY, DAD! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?!

And for a while, it looks like Lucius made the right choice. Things are happening, they’re actually going out and killing the mudbloods! Unlike Regulus, Lucius never has that “wait a minute” moment as he realizes that Voldemort’s actually far more efficiently eliminating pureblood families and sowing dissention in what was once a unanimous force among the Wizengamot (the other pureblood lords aren’t necessarily pro muggleborn, per se, but they get a bit queasy at the thought of blowing them up or Merlin forbid actually blowing up their own public venues wizards use). 

And then October 31st, 1981 happens, and it all comes crashing down. Lucius has to desperately lie his ass off, having only the flimsiest lie to rely on, has to hand out a shit ton of bribes, and manages to squeeze his way out of being imprisoned in Azkaban. 

I’m sure Abraxas looked at his son, with his tattoo on his arm that makes him another man’s slave, at the utter destruction of the Black family, and just shook his head going, “Clean up your mess, Dumbass Son”

And Lucius does to the best of his ability. While some will always suspect him of being a Death Eater, while some know it, he’s able to climb very high in influence in their ridiculously tiny community. Granted, I do think he messed up, and could never for example run for minister given everything (if Crouch can’t rerun then Lucius certainly can’t). He also shows us that in some ways he is not above the law, he’s very afraid his house will be searched without warrant in The Chamber of Secrets, and this is in part why he dumps Tom Riddle’s diary off onto Ginny.

However, he wields total control of the Prophet, has a seat on the Wizengamot, has the ear of the current Minister, is on the Hogwarts’ Board of Governors, and has his hands in pretty much every pie he can.

I imagine during this period Lucius grows up. He brushes the indiscretions of his youth under the carpet, gleefully leaving it all behind him, and the only real friend he maintains contact with from that period is Severus, the least zealot like of all of them. (Crabbe and Goyle Sr aren’t friends, they’re minions). 

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a racist slime bag, and I don’t think he really regrets the domestic terrorism. He just regrets nearly getting caught and putting his entire family’s security on the line. He witnessed first hand what happened to the Blacks.

And then the worst thing happens: Tom Riddle rises from the dead. He rises, impossibly, from the dead when Lucius has his own hand caught in the cookie jar.

Lucius has been living a life of luxury and influence while his great master, the man he had pledged everything to, was dead. Worse, Lucius took what was described as a treasured item to be protected at all costs, and not only threw it away but sent it to Hogwarts where it caused massive havoc and was ultimately destroyed. 

And Lucius, I imagine, no longer wants to serve a master.

But he has no choice. And so begins Lucius’ descent into misery and hell as he’s given an increasing set of impossible, horrific, tasks in punishment that involve him watching as his wife and son are put through hell.

I believe Tom holds a special place in his cold, black, passive aggressive heart for Lucius Malfoy.

First, Tom makes Lucius’ house his headquarters. Oh, Lucius, you have a very nice, very large, estate? Why don’t you host your beloved, mad, cousin, her equally mad husband and brother-in-law? Oh, Bellatrix threatened to cut off your ear? Well, she’s just so passionate! 

Second, Lucius is told to go get the prophecy. Well, this is easier said than done. He nearly succeeds but then it all turns into the world’s largest clusterfuck that ends in two notable things. First, the prophecy is lost forever, shattered. Second, the government admits that Voldemort is truly resurrected. Both of these things are very bad in Tom’s book. And the blame can easily be put on Lucius’ head.

In response to this, Draco is now given an impossible task that Draco is too stupid to realize is designed to cause him (and his family) as much misery as possible. Draco is to assassinate Dumbledore. 

Likely, Tom was already informed by Snape that Dumbledore was dying. The blackened hand was too obvious a tell coming from too obvious a source for the pair to have hid it. I think trying to hide such information would have immediately blown Snape’s cover. So, Tom knows the man is dying, and doesn’t see fit to tell Draco this.

Instead, he tells Draco, “Kill Dumbledore as soon as possible or I deliver you to Fenrir Grayback.” Draco, however, is young and stupid, so he honestly thinks he is doing this to restore the family honor, earn glory for himself and for the cause, and is expected to do this entirely by himself. As a result, when Narcissa begs Snape to aid Draco, Draco blows them both off and only accepts help from Bellatrix because HE CAN DO THIS ON HIS OWN! DRACO IS A MAN.

This, of course, doesn’t work out either. Draco doesn’t deliver the killing blow, Snape does, but Tom decides to give him a pass.

Instead he moves on to his next plan which is making the Malfoy manor his torture chamber and POW camp. Even Draco, at this point, realizes this all kind of sucks. 

And then Voldemort finally dies a second time, and I’m sure Lucius just stares numbly at his malformed corpse, wondering if it will really take this time.

So that’s Lucius for you, paying always for his mistakes, and pretending he’s just as much of a nutcase as Bellatrix to fit in.

Bellatrix LeStrange

God, compared to the novel that is Lucius’ ridiculous life, I really don’t have much to say about her because I feel like there’s not much too her.

Bellatrix reminds me a lot of the Manson family, she gives off those same vibes. Point being, I think even before Azkaban (while Azkaban certainly didn’t help), she was insane and a little too worshipful of Voldemort.

I guess I can start there, I don’t think Bellamort is a thing, at all. 

Tom may have, probably did, have sex with her before he died but afterwards? In that body? Forget about it.

That said, I’m sure Bellatrix both wanted to have sex and is convinced she did have sex to produce whatever the hell Delphi even is. It just wasn’t with Tom, and probably was Rodolphous with a Halloween mask on his face as they got a little too into role play.

And there we go, I suppose, I can’t take Bellatrix seriously. You often see her portrayed as sexy femme fatale Death Eater, the most competent of all of them, if a bit of a sadist.

Oh she might be a very good duelist but she’s... Bellatrix.

She prances around in corsets, shrieking madly, and just what part of that is supposed to be femme fatale? I literally cannot take her seriously on any level. When I even try to write her seriously, in very serious stories, I end up with lines like the following:

"My lord, if there's anything you need… Anything from me, specifically, as a woman…" 

- Bright Eyes

That was my best attempt. That was the best I could come up with. It’s still something that belongs in a comedy.

So, I don’t think Tom really corrupted her. I think without Voldemort she still probably would have been blowing up Diagon Alley, just in a much less organized manner.

Even in canon she does ridiculous things. For example, Bellatrix, frankly, could have easily avoided prison.

For weeks after the dark lord fell neither she, her husband, Barty, nor her brother-in-law were arrested. Bellatrix in grief and utter disbelief that the dark lord could ever do something so mortal as die, said “remember that other house our lord mentioned, THEY MIGHT HAVE INFORMATION, LET’S GO MURDER THE LONGBOTTOMS!” They torture and kidnap Frank, demanding he tell them where their master is, THEY KNOW HE KNOWS. He doesn’t know. They go too far and torture the man into being a vegetable. “Shit, GET THE WIFE!” They go get the wife, do the same thing, with the same results.

They now have no information on the dark lord, two well regarded aurors tortured into brain damage, and are quickly caught and brought before the court with absolutely no “I was imperiused” excuse they can give out. 

How am I supposed to take her in any way seriously?

I mean, to end your life killed in a duel with Molly Weasley. That just says it all.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Oils

Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call. 

Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men. 

Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation

It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.

Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.

"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."

You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.

"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."

The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"

You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."

"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."

"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.

"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.

"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."

The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."

"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."

You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.

Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.

It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.

"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.

"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."

"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."

You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."

Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"

"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."

"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."

"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"

Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.

"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."

Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.

"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."

The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.

“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?” 

“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.” 

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.” 

“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.” 

“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?” 

You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative. 

“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say. 

Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”

She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled. 

Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.” 

“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.” 

You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?” 

“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?” 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.” 

She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself. 

“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.” 

“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!” 

You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.” 

Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it. 

“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.” 

An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources. 

Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter. 

“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!” 

The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder. 

“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.” 

“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."

"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"

You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.

"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."

"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."

"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."

You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.

"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."

Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.

"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."

"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.

You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen. 

“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.” 

Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.” 

[simpsiren]

the familiarly unfamiliar stranger;

na jaemin x reader

He is the guy that’s kind to basically everyone. No one has ever disliked him. He’s always had that “friendly guy but doesn’t have a group of permanent friends” type of aura. Despite that aura of his, he’s never seen hopping from one friend group to another either. He’s just... there. He only has his DNYL fraternity that I would consider to be his only friends.

genre. angst, fluff, childhood friends meeting after a long time becoming lovers

warnings. none!

word count. 16.3k~

description. Would it be possible to meet that particular stranger that you made a sudden connection with in the span of two months when the two of you first met at a beach house party? I didn’t really try finding the answer to that after we parted way and never to cross paths again. Instead, the answer came to me when I went to college and realised that Jaemin was studying there as well. Just when I thought my unsaid feelings could finally be released for him to hear, I got to find out that he joined a fraternity called ‘DNYL’, meaning that they’re people that want absolutely nothing to do with love.

READ PART II HERE

!as they should materlist!

“Get your ass out of this couch and come with me!” Johnny plopped himself down next to me. I kept my eyes on the TV screen, not giving a single care about Johnny's constant persuasion to take me to some beach house party.

“Are you serious right now?” Johnny lets out an exasperated huff. “We’re at the beach for God’s sake! You need to enjoy summer break here to the fullest. One way is to get out and party!” He grabbed onto my wrist, tugging it with every word to emphasize his points. I used my free hand to scoop a handful of popcorn from the bowl. “I still have two months here. I can admire the beach whenever I want. Just not with complete strangers.” I rolled my eyes as I chewed, words muffled due to the fact that I stuffed my mouth till it was full.

“Can you please?” Johnny whined, shoulders shaking from left to right. “Ah! I shall make my wish now.” I turned to him, arching a brow in a questioning look. “What the hell are you talking about?” Johnny giggled and a wide smirk crept up his face creepily. Whatever Johnny’s about to mention is going to force me to stop saying no. I just know it.

“Remember you said you’d grant me a wish since I gave you the credit for coming up with that idea for your art project?” Yup, knew it. Thanks to the idea that Johnny gave me, I was able to get an A for my end of year art coursework. Supposedly, we were needed to credit everyone, and I mean everyone, who contributed in any way. But Johnny offered to give me full credit for the most important part of the project, which I’m greatly thankful for. But unfortunately, it’s now about to stab me in the back.

“I literally treated you to bubble tea for that!” I retorted, eyes narrowed at Johnny as he shook his head vigorously. “That doesn’t count.” I let out a loud defeated sigh. I could never beat Johnny in this. Even if I did, he’d still go on to pester me every second. Not wanting to push this matter any further and having to put up with Johnny’s stubbornness, I plopped another popcorn into my mouth, whispering a “Better be worth my damn time.” after I swallowed.

We were living in a trailer during our stay by the beach and had to walk by the seaside to reach, wherever the beach house was. I followed beside Johnny closely, being absolutely clueless since I have yet to look around the place when we came. It’s only our first day. Can’t expect me to be exploring it immediately. I needed time to get comfortable. But Johnny clearly didn’t get that memo.

The moment the beach house came to view, loud chatters and laughter of glee could already be heard. There were many people hanging by the outdoor restaurant, which was made by colourful planks and decorated with fairy lights that illuminated the entire place beautifully, hung loosely from plank to plank that were placed far apart from each other as the roof, giving you the clearest view of the night sky. Some people were by the hammocks situated just beside it, and the actual beach house itself above the outdoor restaurant.

The place was jammed pack the moment we stepped in. Johnny had to hold my hand as we squeezed through the crowd. The reeked smell of alcohol and burnt barbecue entered my nose, making me scrunch it up the whole way till we entered the beach house. “I shouldn’t have come.” I said dryly to Johnny while he took me to meet his friends. “Go grab some food.” Johnny said as we ended up in front of a room. He opened the door, suddenly a bunch of low screaming was heard as they greeted Johnny. I stood behind him quietly, thinking that his tall figure would cover me.

“Who’s she?” One of them asked. I mentally sighed as Johnny pulled me out from hiding behind his back. “Just a friend I had to drag here to enjoy herself. Isn’t that right?” Johnny said with a playful tone. I threw a sharp glare at him in a split second and turned to the group of guys that were sitting around the large bed, forcing a smile and nodding my head. “Enjoy yourself. Cause’ I’ll be leaving the moment I get my food.” With that, I left to head over to the food pantry.

After zooming my way through the crowded area of the beach house, I finally made it out at the restaurant. I walked to the lines of tables that were filled with food. Barbecued food and desserts. I guess this was a positive decision to come here. I get free food after all. I grabbed a plate from the side and placed practically one of every food that was available till my plate was full. I got myself a cup of iced cold lemon tea and removed myself from the chaotically crowded area.

When I stepped out of the place, I actually didn’t know where to go. I stood there for a moment, food on one hand and drink on the other. My eyes scanned the scenery in front of me. It was just the beach with nothing else on sight. I licked my lips and my legs began to move. I didn’t know where I was going, but I’ll go anywhere that’ll bring me away from all this.

My legs ended up taking me to the rocks at the end of the beachside. I climbed up after placing my food at the top. I sat down and got comfortable, letting my legs dangle freely over the edge. I took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of the sea air that cleared my nose and put me at ease instantly. I looked up to the night sky, my hand reaching for a chicken and took a bite.

The sky that had very few stars to be seen was dark, a blank sky of nothingness. The sea however reflected the light of the moon, the waves glistening under the moonlight each time it hits the surface. Not to mention the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks below me. “Mind if I join you?”

I flinched and turned around immediately at the voice behind me. I didn’t give a reply and instead inspected him up and down. He had blue hair, which I found was weird at first, but I realised that it went well with his face that was extremely attractive, and seemed to be around my age. He’s wearing a plain white loose tee with black jeans and boots, the entire outfit making his perfectly proportioned body prominent as well as his bright blue hair to stand out.

I have yet to given a reply, too caught up with looking at the stranger as he simply shrugged and take a seat beside my food and drink, my eyes following him with every move. “I’m assuming you came from the party.” He said, eyes staring down on the food. I nodded my head silently. “Just wanted some freah air.” I replied.

I grabbed my drink and take a sip, sighing softly as I swallowed. “Were you from there too?” He laughed and nodded his head. “Since evening. Everyone’s currently drunk and crazy. Just didn’t feel like putting up with that.” He hugged his knees close to his chest, chin resting on his forearm. “How long have you been here?” I took a bite of my chicken and quickly swallowed it down to answer him. “It’s only my first day. I’m staying till summer break’s over.” The boy hummed in reply.

“Same, actually.” Although I had my eyes fixated at the sky, I couldn’t help but take quick glances at him, his eyes being covered by strands of his blue hair and his sharp jawline that could possibly cut through anything. I noticed how he kept his eyes on my food, though he wasn’t trying to make it obvious. “You can have some.” I said, downshifting to the food.

He smiled softly, looking up at me. “Thanks.” He whispered before taking a snack at random and placing it in his mouth. “Is this your first time coming here?” He questioned. I puckered my lips. “Yeah. I mean of course I went to the beach before just not staying here for two months.” I kept silent, thinking of what else to say. I noticed how he was looking at me, as if fully attentive to my words.

“Johnny pulled me in on this, saying I should enjoy a different environment rather than the air of the city breathing down my throat and suffocating me.” I added on, saying exactly what Johnny told me before coming here and looking down to my legs that swayed lightly in the wind. “You mean Johnny Suh?” My brows furrowed as I looked to him. “You know him?”

“Yeah. He’s friends with my brother Jaehyun.” He lets out a weak laugh. “My mother forced me to follow him here to enjoy myself. I’m not a big fan of...” He turned around and motioned his hand lazily to the beach house. “That.”

“Guess we’re here for the same reasons and share the same opinion.” We kept quiet for some time, letting the silence get comfortable between us. Funny how I didn’t feel the slightest bit of awkwardness next to him, as if we’d be able to never know each other yet still feel like we have since forever like the closest of friends do. The cold wind blew gently against our skin, only our light breathing and munching to be heard.

I didn’t know what time it was, nor did I care. But whoever this guy was, he somehow made me want to stay here for longer that I needed.

I didn’t see him at all after that one night. I ended up having to go home myself since Johnny came back to the trailer the next day extremely hungover when he rang the doorbell annoyingly at seven in the morning. Two weeks have passed. And the stranger never left me mind. Not because of how he looked, though that was one of the reasons, but because of the the fact that I felt the sudden comfort when I was with him. It was just one night. A mere few hours. And we were just there. A little chit chat here and there followed by long minutes of silence. But it didn’t feel bad at all. 

“Where are you going?” I asked, seeing Johnny wear his leather jacket while walking over to where I was at, once again on sitting comfortably on the couch for my movie night. “To see my friends. What else? I’m not a homebody like you.” He rolled his eyes at me, going to the kitchen counter to grab his wallet. “Hey, John?” I suddenly asked, curious about something.

He turned around and hummed in question. “Are you friends with a guy named Jaehyun?” His eyes widened slightly and nodded his head. “I do. Funny you mentioned him. I’m meeting him at the beach house later.” His face slowly turned into a mischievous one. “Why? You wanna meet him?” I squinted my eyes at his assumption. “No. I’m just...” I trailed on, but never got to think of an answer, not knowing how to explain to Johnny that I wanted to meet the boy that I knew absolutely nothing about. 

“Asking for a friend.” Johnny smacked his lips. “Tell her he’s unavailable until she gets my approval.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “What a friend.” I commented in a sarcastic manner. “I’ll head out too.” I said, grunting as I rose from the couch. “And where are you going?” Johnny asked curiously. “Hoping to enjoy myself.” I said, my lips forming a thin line as I went to get ready. If Jaehyun’s there, could his brother be as well? 

By the time I finished getting ready, Johnny has already left and I assumed he did a long time ago. I shrugged and left the trailer. I made my way to the beach house. It was still as lively as ever. I did make occasional trips there for the food since they were in fact still delicious. I assumed they were about to have another party. It was already evening. Once again my legs didn’t know where to go and made the unconscious decision of taking me to the rocks.

As if miracle had dawned on me, I was surprised to see him sitting there, his back facing me while he held a guitar on his lap with a small notebook and pencil beside him. I silently walked up to him and sat down, legs crossed. He didn’t say anything for a moment when he noticed me. “We meet again.” He simply said, trailing his eyes from his guitar and to me. I chuckled and smiled softly. “Indeed, we have. My legs just carried me here.” I lied, placing my hands on my thighs as I thought about how he has never left my mind since that night. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, jerking my head to the guitar that sat comfortably on his lap. “Writing a song.” He said, smiling gently back at me. I probably didn’t notice this that night since it was dark and I didn’t get a clear view of his face, but his smile was effortlessly beautiful. It made his whole face glow and he didn’t even have to smile fully. My heart did a leap, quickly my mind captured his face, his bright blue fluffy hair that moved in the strong winds of the day, his nose and his lips, lightly tinted pink that looked soft and smooth. 

He began to strum on his guitar, making gentle and calming sounds flow into my ears. “Being here gives me inspiration.” He grabbed his notebook from the side, writing down something that I couldn’t take a peek of since his head covered the page.��“Are you free today?” He suddenly asked, looking up to me and closing the notebook shut with his fingers clasping it. I hummed in reply, my mind starting to wonder why he would ask that out of the blue. “Well I actually have a movie night to get to but it’s not important.” It used to be until you asked, I thought to myself. 

“Oh then it’s fine. You should enjoy your movie night with your friend.” He blurted out quickly, shaking his head and letting out a weak chuckle, facing forward to the sea. I widened my eyes and shook my head vigorously, my hands doing the same in front of me chest. “No! I’m fully free. I meant a movie night with myself.” 

“I’m fully free.” I repeated again, slowly as a way to reassure him while hoping that I’d get to spend some time with him tonight. 

We ended up having a small picnic, ordering two boxes of pizza while we sat by the seashores, the waves just hitting inches away from us where the sand as still dry. “The sunset’s pretty.” I whispered, looking up at the beautiful shades of red till yellow that painted the sky. 

“Have you made any friends here yet?” He asked, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking a bite. I sighed quietly, my chest puffing up ever so slightly. “I only have Johnny, but he’s always hanging out with his friends so.” I cut of, not needing to finish the full sentence. “You?” I questioned him. He gave the same reply, sighing. “Never really got along with anyone here.”

“But you’re getting along well with me.”

“Then I guess that’s a first.”

The two of us laughed. It felt nice. This whole thing. Again we were met with silence. It’s as if that day was repeating itself, only in a different setting. What was it about this that had drawn me in so deep? The peace that soothed me just from doing this, just by having him next to me. He’s a complete stranger. I forgot about asking his name, he never bothered asking me for mine either. We were just... there, admiring each other’s unknown presence. We didn’t bother digging into knowing who we are, we just had to have each other to feel that state of serenity. 

This time we got to chat a little while longer. I got to find out that he was staying here for two months as well, just like me. He told me he liked writing songs a way to express how he feel, unsaid words that no one would understand if he were to say it normally. “Then what about the song you are writing now? What’s it about?” 

He retrieved his eyes back to the sunset, which colours were slowly losing their force to welcome the night. “It’s a work in progress. It doesn’t have a specific meaning to it either. I’m using my time spent here fully to know what to write, which is why I’m planning to add in new lyrics when I feel like it till the end of this trip.” I hummed in reply. Though I didn’t fully understand what he meant or what he was doing that for, I carried on with it anyways, wanting to hear his voice that never really broke the silence, but settled nicely in between.

“What do you think it’s going to be about?” That rhetorical question had him off guard. He didn’t answer, staring into blank space thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. But I somewhat have an idea.” He suddenly took out something out of his pocket, realising that it was his notebook and pencil from last time. He was quick to open a page and scribbled something down. His handwriting was messy and unrecognisable which made me frown slightly since I was curious as to what he wrote.

“Sorry. Something popped up in my mind for my lyrics. I had to write it down since I’m scared I’ll lose it.” He said, cracking a smile. “Can I hear it once it’s finished?”

“I think you’ll be the only person to ever hear it.”

It was three in the morning. Johnny was peacefully sleeping above me while I’m wide awake, my mind never wanting to put me to rest as the very day from years before kept repeating itself in my head. And each time it did, I felt the feelings that came with it as well like it was the first time.

Being restless and wanting something to shoot me flat out, I decided to head to the twenty four hour supermarket Johnny and I went to when we had to buy groceries for dinner. When I reached, I stood in front of the entrance, clueless. Again I didn’t know what I came here for. I just wanted to get anything that’ll take my mind off it. I walked in, and there was barely anyone to be seen. Only the cashier who seemed to be sleeping on his stool. I took quiet steps, not wanting to disrupt his sleep since I knew how hard it was working the night shift, especially as a high school student.

I grabbed one of the worn out yellow baskets from the stack beside the counter and went straight for the chips aisle with the mentality of “Just get whatever you want and indulge yourself in it till sunrise.” I ended up dropping two bags of chips, a whole bunch of milk chocolate bars, specifically Cadburry and KitKat. I wasn’t too scared about them melting since it’s always extremely cold here at night.

I wondered around the supermarket, thinking of what else I could get. I ended up going to the wine aisle, rows and rows of different kinds wine bottles that I’ve never seen or heard of. I wasn’t like those high schoolers that gets drunk every weekend so I didn’t have the widest knowledge on it. The only one I could recognise was the one that Johnny’s friends bought once when they had a sleepover at our house. Me being curious I tried it with the tiniest of drops the bottle had left after they went to sleep. I remembered it to taste fine and didn’t have an impact on me at all since my intake of it was just mere drops. 

I grabbed it off the shelf with a lazy hand but gripped onto properly when I forgot for a moment that the bottle was heavy. I placed it inside the basket that was at the end of the aisle when headed for the cash register. “ID?” He asked after scanning the rest of the items and placing them into a plastic bag.

“Here.”

I flinched and jumped around. I was met with his body close to mine. I leaned back in shock, my eyes protuberant at the sudden appearance of him. “What are you-” 

He handed the cashier his ID. “Thanks dude.” He said, handing me the bottle of wine while he carried the plastic bag. He looked down on me, raising a soft smile. ‘Let’s go.” He held my wrist and walked me out of the supermarket. When we got out I was met with the cold air. I was too lazy to wear a jacket and now I’m somewhat regretting about leaving the trailer with just my sweater. “And how did you end up here?” I asked with curiosity, stopping after we walked a few steps. “I wanted to buy some midnight snacks.” He then lifted the plastic bag in front of him. “But I guess I don’t need to do that.” 

I chuckled, glaring at him and faking my exasperation. “It’s not meant for you.” I joked, hugging the bottle of wine in my arms as I walked with him catching up and matching my steps beside me. “The rocks?” He asked, head tilted as he sped up in front me and began walking backwards. “You know it.” 

We were at the rocks again, same place, same atmosphere. “Are you going to offer me food like you did last time at the party?” He questioned me in a cheeky tone, a soft giggle following after. I adverted my attention from the sky and to him. He was wearing a thick grey hoodie, hood on that covered his face, which made me sad for a moment, not being able to admire his face. 

“Should I?” I asked back with a slight smirk, digging out a Cadbury bar from the bag and opening it. It still felt cold to the touch. Before wanting to take a bite, I sighed playfully and handed it to him. “There.” He looked down at it for a moment. Instead of dipping down to take a bite, he held my thing wrist, his fingers curling around it gently with his cold palm against my skin. That simple touched sent an electric shock throughout my whole body, as if he’s a lightning that had struck me with the simplest of things.

He guides the chocolate bar in my hand to my lips, pushing at my bottom lip with the end of the bar. “It’s fine. It’s yours anyways.” He whispered, letting go and leaning back with his hands supporting him from behind. I blinked twice, one to my lips where the chocolate bar was still on my lips, and the other to him. My body froze and I couldn’t move. I simply stared at him as he closed his eyes. Soon the chocolate started to melt at the contact of my lips, making me take a bite and licking my bottom lip.

“So...” He started, head tilted back but his eyes fluttered open to look at me. “What were you doing at the supermarket buying junk food at three in the morning.” I glanced down at my phone when he mentioned the time. 3:20AM. Why does time move by slowly when I’m with him? It feels as if the world’s telling me to enjoy such moments like these while I can. It was kind enough to slow down time for me.

I didn’t give an answer, my mind going back and forth as I contemplated on whether to tell him. In the end, I did. It’s not like he’ll remember what I say anyways. “Today’s the day my first love broke up with me.” I confessed, smacking my lips and nodding my head. “That’s... sad.”

With a chuckle, I bit down on the chocolate bar. “That’s not even half of what makes this day so depressing.” I sighed loudly, running a hand through my hair that got tangled due to the strong wind. “I found out that he wasn’t normal. He had a problem that didn’t allow him to feel anything. Pain, happiness... and also love.”

I looked to him. He had a blank expression. I couldn’t tell what he thought about it. Yet, he kept silent, in a way to tell me to continue if I had anything more to say. I exhaled sharply before resuming. “So he didn’t love me at all. Not a single drop of it. I remembered when he told his friend one night at an abandoned house that he never loved me. He never felt anything towards me. I was hiding behind a wall. I felt so stupid that I quietly removed myself from the house and ran to the farthest place I could go to.”

Unconsciously, my tears started to well up in my eyes, my vision starting to get blurry as I brought my hand up, fingers shaking tremendously as I took a bite of my almost-finished chocolate bar. “I couldn’t sleep since my mind kept making me think about. It’s not him that’s made me hate that day, but the fact that all the days before that were the happiest times of my life. So to find out that it was all fake...”

My voice began cracking under the pressure. I could feel it all coming at me in one go, in one giant wave. I broke down, my tears instantly flowing out like rivers as I covered my mouth, wanting to muffle out my cries. I suddenly felt an arm around my shoulders, pulling my body close as he began to embrace me, eventually wrapping both arms around me and letting me sink into his warmth. I gripped onto his hoodie and balled my fists, my face digging deeper into the fabric.

“Sh... It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whispered ever so softly as he placed his chin on top of my head and rubbed my back. “Johnny took me here knowing that. I guess he hoped that I won’t remember it while I’m here.” I croaked out, gulping and taking in deep breaths.

As I began to calm down, I started to think about how gentle he is. He hugged me as if I was a fragile sensitive baby that he had to protect at all costs. He hugged me as if giving me comfort was his only main purpose. His warmth and touch curled around me like a fluffy blanket, a place I’d never want to leave.

Though I was done crying, I stayed there in his arms that held me perfectly. He didn’t bother pulling away either, as if he too didn’t want to let go. “Do you want me to make you forget?” He asked softly, pulling away slightly with his hand still on my back while I had mine on his chest. I let out a weak chuckle. “Can you?”

He laughed for a short moment. “I’ll be...” He looked up thoughtfully. “Your fairy godmother.” He flashed a cheeky smile that got me to burst out laughing. “My fairy godmother? I’m not Cinderalla.”

“But I’ll give you a day like the ball night. I’ll grant you whatever you want, and we can do anything you’d like. How’s that sound?” I looked into his eyes after my laughter died down. His eyes were the softest thing I’ve seen in a person affer a long time. It was filled with gentleness and kindness, perhaps even love that could cover the entire world.

“Perfect.”

We planned to meet the next day at the rocks. We didn’t have a clear idea of what we’re going to do though we freed our entire day for this. But that’s the beauty of the idea, isn’t it? Having to wonder around without a clear goal in mind. Sailing in the ocean’s wave without a destination, and having the waves do its thing to take you to wherever it wants you to be.

He came walking towards me with a tropical button up and light washed jeans along with slippers. My eyes can never take themselves off his blue hair. It’s seriously the second thing to stand out the most other than his face. “Hey.” He called out, lifting a hand up to wave. I took a few steps to him, wearing a happy smile. “What should we do first?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You know this place better than me.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing his palm against the back of his neck while the other was shoved into the pocket of his jeans. “Mm I have plenty of nice places to show you.”

He leaned forward, meeting me at my eye level as our eyes locked sights. My heart started to race quickly and I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks. Looking at him upclose, he really was more good looking that I thought he was. How did anyone this attractive even existed in the world? My stomach started churning out butterflies that fluttered uncontrollably and my eyes got wary, switching from looking at his one eye to the other.

“Can you handle it all in one day?” I blinked my eyes rapidly as his words hit me. Wanting to not show him my seemingly embarrassed face, I pushed him away by his arm, turning around. “Try me!” I shouted, laughing as I ran away. I placed my palms on my cheek. They were definitely burning. I scrunched up my face at the thought. I heard him running from behind, catching up to me quickly with an adorable giggle.

We ended up going to many places that day. He took me to places that I never even knew existed since I didn’t bother exploring far alone. Days and weeks flew by, our meetups began to be more spontaneous and impromptu. One moment one of us would be hanging out by ourselves and the other would suggest to go on a full blown adventure the next.

“You never tell me you had such dance moves!” I said, panting heavily as I placed both my hands on the sides of my hips to catch a breather. “I mean I do dancing as a side hobby to writing music.” He breathed out. I punched him on the arm, pouting with angry eyes. “I’m never playing with you again! You absolutely trashed me.” I grumbled, folding my arms. He laughed and held both my hands. “Don’t get all grumpy with me when you defeated me at the arcade hundreds of times.” He rolled in eyes in exasperation.

“Well you’re right. But you forced me to give you my plushies!” I shouted as he pulled my close with a tug of my wrists. “I’ll give them back once they starts to smell like me.” He gave off a playful wink as he giggled with mischief. I scoffed loudly and threw him a sharp glare. “Mm sure.”

“This cake is so...” “Fluffy!”

I didn’t even need him to finish my sentence. He read my mind as the two of us hummed in satisfaction, letting ourselves sink into the cake’s flavour and taste like a bath. “Thanks for giving me the idea to try the strawberry flavoured cake.” He said with immense greatfulness as he closed his eyes, a happy child-like smile plastered on his face.

“I’m surprised you never tried it despite coming here often. It’s my favourite flavour.” I smiled to myself and took a sip of plain water. With my lips still on the straw, I looked to him who looked so bright. “Can we get ice cream later?” I raised both my brows and gaped my mouth open. “We’re having cake and now you want ice cream?! You have such a sweet tooth.”

“I’ll treat you to strawberry ice cream.” I slammed my palm faced down on the table. “Deal.”

“You’re at a beach and you can’t even swim!” He shouted as he swam farther into the sea while I stood in the water that only came up my chest area. “Don’t leave me!” I cried out, watching him swim around happily while I was too scared to take another step that would lead me the water level rising up to my neck.

I turned around for a moment and when I looked back, he was gone. I didn’t know where he was but I simply assumed that he was swimming under water. I didn’t find this fun at all. He kept teasing me constantly while he forced me to change into a swimming costume that we had to buy today itself since I never thought of bringing one in the first place.

Just when I wanted to make my way back on the shores, I felt something grab my ankle. Out of pure shock and fear, I screamed at the top of my lungs and tried running away, which failed instantly as I fell into the waters. Scared, I scurried around trying to get my head above for air.

I was suddenly supported with a hand around my waist. He got out of the water, splashing some on me as he flicked his hair back. He pulled me closer, hands still around me waist with a look of worry in his eyes. “A-Are you okay? I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” His eyes were shaky as he looked my face. I stared back, placing my hands comfortably on his arms. I had to wrap my legs around his hips since I wasn’t tall enough to touch the sand.

“You’ll regret doing that once we get out of here.” I retorted, clinging onto his body since I was that scared. “Alright, alright. But I’m going to teach you how to swim. How can you not know?” We made our way back to the shore with him struggling to carry my body. I found it cute how he tried to mask the fact that he looked like dropping me with each step. “My family don’t go out doing stuff, you know? We’re just at home most of the time.”

“That’s a disappointment. Be glad that you got me to teach you basic survival skills.” I gaped my mouth open widely, scoffing. “Shut up.” I pushed him away by the chest only to have him come at me with his laughter, which only made me laugh in response.

How was it already my last two days here? Johnny reminded me to pack up my stuff before I left to meet him yet again. This time we promised to spend the entire day together, morning till night, never leaving the other’s side till the last minute.

“You’re leaving after me?” I questioned, head on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around my waist that sat perfectly. “Yeah.” He simply replied in a gentle voice, the two of us staring up to the night sky, looking at the stars that we spent pointing out and making up our own constellations with them.

“Hygge is still shining brightly.” I whispered, pointing upwards and drawing its made up constellation. “It’s shining because of how we’re at peace right now.” He brought a hand up to my head, carassing it lovingly as he threated his fingers through my hair, expertly getting rid of its knots.

“About the song...” I turned my head to him, humming. “I’ll have it done by tonight and sing it for you tomorrow before you leave.” I dug my face deeping into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent that I grew to get used to very quickly during my stay here. “I’m glad I’ll finally be able to hear it. Can you still not tell me what it’s about?” I whined softly, putting on a frown that made him chuckle.

“You can figure that out instantly once I sing it to you so don’t worry. I’m not some philologist.” He slowly dipped in to plant a light kiss on the crown of my head, his lips staying there while I could only assume he had his eyes closed to take in one of our last moments together before we part ways.

The next day I went to the rocks first thing in the morning. He was sitting there, guitar in hand, his legs dangling over the edge. He wore his white tee again, resembling what he wore the first day I met him. I didn’t know why, but every moment I had with him kept reminding me of the first time we met. He came at me out of the blue, yet he didn’t need to do much to makd an impression that stuck on me.

“Alright. Play it now, play it now!” I said, immediately after sitting down next to him. He turned his gaze to me, laughing as he flashed his eye smile that I absolutely adore. “Jeez calm down first!” He strummed on his guitar, taking a moment to check if everything’s ready. He then looked to me, his wide smile growing into a softer and smaller one as he began to play.

The more I listened, the more I realised what he meant by the fact that I’ll know what it was about. Or rather, who. It was about me, about us. He sang about our trips and outings, and everything about me. From being the most beautiful being to the weirdest, he sang about it all. My heart ached in the most amazing way possible. It fluttered as I felt the love and sincerity expertly imbued into each note, each word he sang. He didn’t break his eyes off me either, as if opening my soul with his voice that only drew me in deeper into his being that I knew all too well, but also didn’t.

I knew him, head to toe, front to back. I knew him well like my favourite book where the plot, characters, the plot twists were all etched in my brain. I didn’t even need to think to know what happened next. That’s how much I knew him in the span of two months. Yet, I never knew basic information about him. His name, age, where he went for education. We silently decided not to tell that information of ours to the other, simply thinking that we’re strangers that have known each other for years.

That was the last time I saw him. After that day till the moment Johnny drove our trailer away. He never left my mind and it was only then when the beach left my view that I started to feel the regret of not asking him who he was. Why was I so stupid not to ask? For forgetting that we’ll part ways and never meet again unless we had some form of connection. Why did we spend time together in our made up dream thinking that for a moment fate would bring us together when we’ve completely forgotten about reality hitting us right after?

I was at the lecture hall for my art major. It felt as if a whole year went by just from listening. I glanced down at my phone. Ten more minutes. On top of my coursework which I had to hand in by week nine, there was also going to be an exam on the study of visual arts. I hope to at least get some rest before I push through how many all-nighters just to get it all done and over with.

Finally our professor ended his lecture. The lecture hall now filled with sounds of everyone keeping their materials and heading straight for the door. I decided to hold back for awhile, not wanting to have to push myself through the large crowd trying to get out through the small doors. Majority of the people have already exited after I scrolled through my phone and just as I was about to stand up to leave, I heard a loud slam on my table. I instantly turned to it. There was a sticker on my table. I looked up and scanned my surroundings, wondering who pasted it there. A guy in a black hoodie with his hood on zoomed past me at the back since I sat at the last row, making his way to the exit and leaving.

I adverted my attention back to the weird sticker that was being pasted on my table by God knows who. I was able to peel it off from the table since the adhesive on it wasn’t strong. I gripped it in between my index and middle finger, bringing it up close to my face. “DNYL...?” I whispered to myself, reading the letters that were large and in a red cursive font that was dripping from the bottom in a heart. I blinked my eyes rapidly, proceeding to turn it around so that I could look at it from all angles. There’s nothing else, nothing to tell me who gave the weird sticker to me.

I stuck it on the back of my phone, not knowing exactly where to place it. Throughout the day I kept glancing at it with a bunch of questions surfacing each time. I was now back at the dorms. The first thing I did was opened up my computer to search up whatever the hell DNYL stood for. But nothing popped up. I started to think it was something that’s within the school. Some kind of club? Or an organisation?

I’ve thought about it for so long that the time I had to rest had already passed by and now I had to start work. “What the hell even is this?” I questioned myself yet again before throwing my phone to my bed and began taking out my art materials to resume my coursework.

The next day I was sitting in the hall before lecture started, my eyes glued to the door as I tried to find whoever that gave me the sticker. They had to be taking this course to be here anyways. But, the longer I stared at the door, the longer I thought to myself “Why did I even think that he’ll wear the same hoodie as yesterday?” I shook my head, placing chin on the palm of my hand as I let out a quiet sigh. A few poeple were wearing black hoodies, but they weren’t like the one I saw yesterday. They didn’t have that body type either.

I scratched my head, fully distressed about this trivial matter that I shouldn’t even be questioning much about, especially when I had a whole workload of things to do that is way more important than some sticker. Yet, my curiosity could never seem to shake it off. Nothing has happened after that. No stickers, weird guy, nothing. However, my senses were always on the edge, ready to catch the person if I were to ever encounter myself with the same sticker.

Due to my roommate suddenly having a party at our dorm with her group of friends, I decided to head over to the study café, not wanting to be stuck in my room and having to deal with the noise from outside. During my time there, hours have already passed by. It has always been like this whenever I do art. So much time yet so little accomplishments. Luckily I was able to complete what I wanted to for tonight and decided that it was a good time to look for books that could help me with my research for my study of visual arts assignment which would eventually lead to my exam.

I head down to the first floor where the library was. It was dark and secluded with only the lamp from the desk being the only thing that illuminated a small part of the library. I took silent steps to the bookshelves, my eyes scanning up and down with my finger following it as I tried finding a book. I was about to switch to the other side of the shelve when something at the side caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks and turned a sharp ninety degrees.

Just below the sign that indicated the books’ genre, there was a familiar shape. Slowly, I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight. As expected, it was the heart shaped sticker again. It had the same design, same letters. This time however, it looked worn out, like it’s been here for more than a year with his edges fraying like someone tried to tear it off, along with the discolouration.

“What even...” I whispered to myself. Upon further inspection with squinted eyes, there was something that resembled a quote that was placed along the rim of the sticker. “Don’t.... your. What does it say?” I couldn’t help but wonder, the fraying of the edges mot giving me a chance to even guess what the quote was.

With this new information, I laying on my bed, still in my pyjamas and not wanting to leave my bed till afternoon since I had no classes for the day. I turned my phone to the back where the sticker was. There wasn’t any quote on it like the one at the library. Whenever I tried thinking of possibilities of what the full quote could mean, I could only assume “Don’t Need Your Love.” to be the only plausible answer.

“Hey, Sierra?” I asked the moment she came walking in after she was done showering. She turned around, the small towel draped over her head while drying her hair. “Is there perhaps... a fraternity here called DNYL?” She turned to me, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t know about what happened?”

I copied her expression. “What do I not know?” She turned to the full length mirror beside her bed as she grabbed her earrings off her dressing table. “My senior said it used to be a fraternity for anyone that doesn’t want to be in love. Basically for those who’ve been through heartbreaks and shit or anything related to love that they don’t want to associate themselves with.”

“But the college thinks that it’s not something to be promoted so they disbanded the fraternity.” Sierra shrugged while wearing her earrings. Her eyes trailed from herself and to me, the reflection of myself looking at her. “Why’d you ask though?”

I gulped, shaking my head and cracking a soft smile. “It’s nothing.” I whispered, looking down to my phone case with the sticker. I forced a smile, looking back up and seeing Sierra grab her bag. “Have fun during lecture.” She laughed and nodded her head. “Have fun resting while I suffer.” With that, she left the dorm.

I went on with my day and decided to not be lazy and actually make my own breakfast instead of ordering the unhealthy McDonald’s breakfast like I do every morning. At the kitchen, it felt quiet. Too quiet for my liking, with only the sound of the pan sizzling the moment I added the pancake batter to be heard. It wasn’t like the silence at the beach. The silence I shared with him. Nothing could compare to that. I felt lonely, and distant.

My mind slowly trailed back into my memories of him. I began to remember the song he sang to me on my last day, remembering the tune and every lyric. Like I said, he never left my mind. Him and everything that went along with the trip was just filed in the back of my mind. It was only now that it began to surface as I started to feel the emptiness of his absence. Not being able to bear it, I turned to my phone and switched on the radio, specifically our college’s radio studio that has their own podcast airing every morning. I never really bothered listening to it till now.

“Alright, we’re going to have a short break so let’s enjoy this song called Don’t Need Your Love by NCT DREAM together before we talk about our next topic.” I didn’t pay attention to his words at first, it came in one ear and went out the other, being too focused on getting my pancakes to not burn. Due to my lack of cooking experience, this part of getting it to cook really got me anxious and on full concentration mode.

The song began to play, and it was cathy. The rhythm had my bobbing my head while I had my eyes cautiously looking at the pancakes. You think it’s my heart you’re holding. You still think you’re all that I need. I placed my pancake onto my plate, getting ready to make the next. The song began to pick up its speed, the drop coming in and making me bob my head harder due to the addictive nature it had before it hits the chorus.

I don’t need your love. Don’t need it. Don’t need it, need it no. And that’s when it hit me. The title of the song, the lyrics. Why haven’t I noticed it at all? I turned to my phone, looking at the screen that showed the same heart shaped logo the sticker had. I gaped my mouth open, immediately picking up the phone as I brought it close to my ear. I’m definitely hearing it correctly. I brought my phone in front of me. The same logo the fraternity had.

Millions of questions came up. If the fraternity doesn’t exist anymore, then why did they suddenly approach me by giving me the sticker? Were they trying to recuit new people to revive the status of the fraternity? And how was this song even playing if the college didn’t allow it to be promoted?

I'm going crazy, please, because of you. I can't sleep. What are you thinking? No, don’t say it. Aside from you. I have many other things to lean on. I don't wanna go back. My eyes widened at the voice who sang that part. It was him. It’s definitely him. It was his voice. I remembered it vividly from when he sang to me at the rocks. I couldn’t have been mistaken.

I turned off the stove, adverting my attention back to the music as I tried to listen to the rest of the song to see if I could pick up his voice again. Unfortunately, I didn’t. That was the only part I got to hear before the music stopped and the guy’s voice came back. “Um actually there was some error. That song wasn’t supposed to be played. Uh l-let’s listen to Long Flight that was written by our very own student council president Lee Taeyong, shall we?” Just like that, the music began playing.

I stood there, completely frozen. “What just happened...?” I whispered to myself, slowly putting my phone back down on the table. I lowered the music as it settled in the background while my mind went deep into my thoughts. “I couldn’t have heard it wrong. I’m sure it was him. I’m not going crazy, am I?” I paced back and forth in the kitchen, thinking if I was actually going crazy from desperately trying to figure out who he was.

I tried pushing the thought away. But it always came back no matter what I was doing, casually creeping back into my mind. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I had to know. I had to be sure. I grabbed whatever belongings I needed and headed to campus.

I brisk walked my way over to the recording studio where supposedly they recorded live for the radio. I pushed the door open, immediately greeted with the head of the radio station team, Moon Taeil, looking at me while sitting on the black swivel chair, legs crossed. “Excuse me?” He questioned, head tilted just a few degrees as his eyes looked me up and down. It felt as if I was being scrutinised by his stare.

“Um I’m sorry but I just have a quick question.” I slowly closed the door behind me and walked towards him. Looking around, there were the other members of the team sitting down at a table and discussing something. “And what’s that?” Taeil asked again with a firm tone which sent a shiver down my spine. “The song you played for the radio. Don’t need your love? Uh who was it written by... And who sang it?”

Taeil licked his lower lip, breaking his eyes off me for a moment as he looked around with uncertainty. He eventually placed both his elbows on the arm rest, arms standing up with his fingers interlocking just below his chin. “It’s written by our alumni Harvey. And who it’s sung by, I honestly don’t know. They just called themselves NCT DREAM and submitted the song anonymously for it be played.”

He lets out a loud sigh for a pause, pursing his lips into a thin line. “But I got a message form the student council that it shouldn’t be played so I had to stop it. It was a good song though.” He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh... I see.” I whispered softly, looking down to my feet. “Is that all you need, dear?” He asked, a soft smile forming on his face as I shot my head back up from the flood. “A-Ah yes. Thank you so much.” I rushed out the door.

On my way back I kept thinking about what Taeil said, trying to connect the dots with whatever knowledge I’ve gathered. Yet, I still had other questions that were yet to be answered. Who is NCT DREAM? And why have I never heard of them during my time here in college? I wasn’t that person who’s not updated on whatever’s going on on campus anyways. Was playing that song part of their plan to promote their unofficial fraternity?

I was completely distracted for the days that followed after. I couldn’t fully concentrate while studying, the song being replayed in my head over and over again, specifically his part. The most impossible possibility came to my mind. “Is he in this college?” I lifted my head up from the papers, my eyes narrowing down to one spot on the wall. I laughed to myself and shake my head, taking a quick sip of my coffee.

“Don’t be stupid. Coincidences like that only ever happens in movies.” I looked to my phone. Slowly, I reached my hand out for it and flipped it over, my eyes meeting with the bright red sticker. “Can you please stop stressing over this? Get your priorities straight!” I half-shouted, groaning as I dropped my head on the table. My eyes began welling up and my vision got blurry as I thought of wanting to hear his voice sing me to sleep, my tears streaming down my face in a matter of seconds.

Sierra and I went our separate ways to our building departments after walking to campus together. I entered the lecture hall. It wasn’t empty as I thought it would be. More people seemed to come earlier today. Like any other day, I paid attention to my professor, taking down notes and listening attentively yet dying slowly as each minute passes by.

“Don’t forget your coursework is due in a week’s time!” He shouted one last time as everyone made their way out instantly after lecture ended. I sighed tiredly, getting up from my seat and walking to the door. This time I decided to just go with the crowd, the desperation of wanting to go back to the dorms and take a nap before driving myself insane through the night with my workload again.

I was squished between people with them bumping into me every which way. I began regretting I chose this decision. But perhaps not when I suddenly felt a hand being placed on my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder. There wasn’t anyone that looked like they relied their hand back. I tilted my head down to where they placed their hand. It was the sticker. I instantly ripped it from my jean jacket after I finally got out of the mess. I observed the crowd at walked past after leaving the hall. None of them looked suspicious in any way.

“If you’re interested, head over to the abandoned play room in basement one today once you finish lecture.” I read the note that was written over the sticker. With both brows raised, I turned back to the doors, which was now empty and secluded. I instantly nodded my head with determination as my curiosity started to fuel, walking to basement one.

Making my way there, more emotions began to dance around in my heart. I felt the excitement and hopefully satisfaction since I’ll finally be able to know whatever the heck that has been going on and I wouldn’t need to feel the stress of pondering about it any longer too. However, I also felt nervous. I didn’t know the reason for this fraternity disbanding. What if there was something more dangerous behind it? What seemed to weird me out the most is the fact that this fraternity is somehow connected to the stranger from the beach, which was probably the biggest reason for my eagerness to find out.

I’ve only been to the basement once or twice to get free art materials that have no longer been used. It was dark, secluded and eerie. The coldnees wasn’t making my journey there any better either. I got closer to the play room. The sign was glowing a bright yellow and illuminated the surrounding area. There was also light coming from the play room through the glass door. I licked my dried lips nervously and placed my hand on the door handle, entering with my heart thumping out of my chest.

The moment I entered, I was met with the eyes of four people. Six guys, to be exact. They stared at me, and I stared back. It was complete silence while I had a staring competition with them. “Ah! You’re here!” I shook my head and broke eye contact with them, my attention adverted to the voice. It was another guy who came out from a door that led to another room I assumed.

“Look I’m not interested in joining. Just curious about something.” I put it out there immediately before they tried to do anything that’ll persuade me. All of them gave weird looks. A look that said “You didn’t even bother giving us a try.” The guy walked up to me, bringing his hand up in front of me. “I’m Haechan.” He introduced himself with a bright smile, just like the sun.

“_____.” I forced a smile. Though I was here for answers, I didn’t expect to be in the presence of five guys. If I’m being honest, they did look familiar. Students that I’ve probably seen only once then never again. “Who was the one that gave me the sticker?” I immediately turned to the others sitting on the couch. Haechan placed his hands on his hips and scoffed. “Jeno did you seriously used the sticker method?”

Another guy that had a smaller figure but looked tall with blonde hair gaped his mouth open, looking to his mates as they all stared down on him with looks of disappointment. “I did it like how Harvey recruited us.” Jeno retorted nonchalantly. “But that’s not a good- Urgh who am I kidding we had other jobs to do anyways” Another guy came to view. He was another blonde head. “Guys! Stop the fighting.” Haechan shouted beside me. His scream making everyone flinch, especially one who almost fell off from the couch.

“Can someone please explain what is this unofficial fraternity and why was I even pulled into this mess?” “Renjun go.”

“Huh?” Haechan looked to another that had a smaller figure than Jeno. “Explain.” He arched a brow and scoffed. “You’re getting a beating from me later for bossing us around just cause’ you’re the head.” Renjun rolled his eyes and stood up, going to what seemed like a projector and turning it on. “Oh before we get to that, that’s Jisung and Chenle, Biology department. Renjun, Psychology department. Mark, Science department. Jeno, art department and I’m part of the History department. Then...” Haechan introduced them one by one, pointing to each of them but stopped, making me look up at him with an arched brow.

“Jaemin’s not here again?” Mark asked, pinching the nose of his bridge while shaking his head. “Don’t tell me-”

“He’s either sleep deprived, going crazy or staying up for another three days with his fifth cup of four shots espresso coffee.” Jeno finished Haechan’s sentence easily. I gaped my mouth open, scoffing in disbelief. “F-Four shots of espresso?!” I half-shouted, my hand on its way to shut my jaw close.

The room was filled with sighs and groans of disappointment due to their mate’s reason for his absence in the play room. “Who’s Jaemin...?” I asked curiously. “I swear he comes to our meetings like never.” Chenle grumbled, clearly ticked off. I took in my surroundings. The tension suddenly became tough and firm after the so-called “Jaemin” was mentioned. I began to wonder what was it about this person that got his members to be so worked up other than not attending the “fraternity’s” meetings.

“Wait. Jeno’s in the art department?” I turned to the guy who had his head phone, looking at his phone before shooting back up to me. “Oh, yeah. I am.” I clicked my tongue. “Never knew you existed till now.” Jeno placed his phone on the table before meeting my eyes again. “Means I’m doing my job well.”

“I’ll force him here next meeting. Anyways, he’s in the architect department. He usually needs to stay up to complete his assignments. Explains his extreme addiction for coffee and staying up for days on end.” Haechan made known, trying to sound reassuring. I simply nodded my head, turning to the screen that projected a video that has yet to be played. It showed someone standing on a stand, leaning into the small mic in front of him. Haechan nodded his head to Renjun, signaling the video to be played. With a press of a button, the video began.

“Mic check 1,2,1,2. Can you hear me?” He had blonde hair and wore a red jacket. “Dear fellow students. The sun is shining, it’s a beautiful day. So the reason I’ve turned on this mic today is to talk about the coolest club on our campus. DNYL, Don’t Need Your Love.” He motioned his hand to the screen that showed their logo, along with a group photo of people I didn’t recognise.

“Now, for those that have been dumped, had a breakup or dealing with a broken heart, this is the perfect club for you.” He paused for a moment, scanning his eyes over the crowd as if wanting to engage each and every one of them.

“Have you been cheated on? Do you feel down from all this unrequited love? Are you tired of waiting for that call from your ex? I definitely am.” A bright smile began to crack on his face. “Well, there’s no more of that. You don’t need any more worries and simply let it all go with us. So let’s just have a great time. DNYL, come join our club, and let’s have some fun!” Just like that, the video ended.

“That’s Harvey, our senior.” Haechan pointed his finger to the guy on screen before dropping his hand back down on his side. “The club immediately got disbanded. His batch was the last one to have the club being official.”

“We want to carry on with his club. He recruited all of us, randomly pasting stickers on our desks and chests before he graduated, hoping we’d rise it up again.” Haechan folded his arms as he explained further. I nodded my head as the information sank in. “Then... Why am I being recruited?” I asked the most important question.

Renjun walked up to me, standing firm with placing his weight on one leg, hands shoved into his jean jacket. “Because we’ve noticed how you seem to look like a sore loser during the whole of your time here.”

“Renjun! That’s rude.” Jisung cried out, shaking his head with a big frown. Renjun simply shrugged at his friend’s comment. “Bold of you to assume I’m being a sore loser because of love.” I cocked a brow, which resulted in Renjun looking away for a moment scoffing before locking his intimidating eyes onto mine. “Then why are you a sore loser?”

I couldn’t reply. I was fully taken aback. He was right. Ever since I began college, though my life has been fine for the most part, I was lost. In a daze, in a blank space of nothingness. As if I was being put in a huge desert with no map and no guidance. I didn’t bother making friends either. I had a neutral relationship with everyone in my major, but never one that I’d consider and actual friend. I was lonely. Too lonely to the point where I didn’t feel anything else. I was simply stagnant. And it was all because of him.

“That’s what I thought.” Renjun went back to the couch with a smug smirk on his face, plopping himself in between Chenle and Jisung. “But why have I never seen you guys before?” I questioned. “Because we’re trying to keep a low profile while promoting so the council wouldn’t catch us.” Chenle replied instantly. “Jaemin has no problem doing that. He’s holed up in his dorm twenty four seven. Literally.” Jisung commented.

“So.” Haechan turned to me sharply and confidently. I blinked my eyes rapidly at the sudden action. “Do you want to join us?” I looked around the room again. Everyone’s eyes staring at me with anticipating looks. I bit my lower lip. “I’m given time to make a decision, right?” Everyone turned their heads to each other and nodded with looks of reassurance and hope. Haechan placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“The fact that you’re considering is already a huge thing for us.”

I was in deep thought late at night, sitting at my study table with the tip of my pen in between my lips as I bit down it, thinking long and hard about joining the club.

It seemed like a good place. Though it felt extremely intimidating, I picked it up from the get-go that they’re extremely close with each other, meaning that their love for the club is stronger than ever. Throughout, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. And the more I did, the more I began to realise that I’ve been holding onto someone that could possibly never cross paths with me ever again. I was holding on so tightly to the impossible, blinding myself with delusion to the point where I even considered the fact that he could be in this school.

I couldn’t be holding on forever. I had to let go. I needed to accept the fact that he’s someone I’ll meet once in a life time, that short period of time where that person has given me a heaven that could never stay forever. I’ll force myself to let go, leave it all behind, and move on.

Though I thought I already had my mind made up, I ended up staying in bed for the rest of the day. The plushie I won with him during the trip on one hand, my phone with Haechan’s contact number on the other, waiting for my thumb to press the call button and confirm my recruitment. I thought I could forget, but I never. It never went away, my memories of him. But it always made me crave for him when he’s not there, only making me suffer on the bitter end. I kept telling myself that maybe I’ll slowly let go when I join the club. I was having a battle in my mind, a whole warzone playing out as my contemplation settled comfortably in my mind as if it wasn’t doing any damage to me. 

“Fuck this.” I whispered angrily to myself, lifting my body up slightly to throw the plushie under my bed, laying back down and giving Haechan a call. No turning back, I guess. Haechan told me to meet at the play room with the others right after our classes. They didn’t have an exact meet up time so whoever’s there first would chill and wait till the rest arrived.

I walked into the play room the next day after lecture. Seeing no one, I assumed I was the first one here. I decided to explore the play room for a bit and the first place I decided to go to was the room where Haechan came out from when I first met him. Entering the room, my jaw hung low, mouth open as I saw the sight before me.

It looked like a gaming cafe. There were arcade games on one corner, a lounging area with a comfortable looking couch with fluffy blankets and pillows, followed by smal shelf of books. There was even a large pantry on the left corner. The room was painted a bright muted yellow and the decorations made it look very aesthetically pleasing. “You like it?” I turned around, flinching slightly as Jisung came in and walked past me, holding a large box in his arms.

“Yeah. It’s quite cool actually.” I whispered, still at awe in the room I was in. I looked to Jisung who was at the pantry. He opened the box and it revealed a whole stock of small packet chips. He proceeded to take them out and place it in baskets on the pantry table. “Can I have one?” I asked. He threw me a packet, to which I had quick enough reflexes to catch in one hand.

“Looks like we’re the first ones here.” Jisung said after emptying out the box and shoving it below the table, grabbing one chip packet and opening it. “Mhm.” I replied, popping a chip in my mouth. “I’m surprised you accepted it in one day.”

I shrugged, walking to the couch and placing my tote bag down before taking a seat. Jisung followed behind me, sitting down on the empty space next to me. “I have my reasons.” I nodded firmly. I then turned to him. “If I may ask, why did you decide to join the club?” I questioned out of pure curiosity.

“Could say I have a rough time with relationships growing up. I always had crushes, people I fall for too easily. Had to constantly deal with unrequited love.” He pursed his lips into a thin line. “I actually had one girl in college that I liked. But when I found out she completely fooled me I had a breakdown at the back of the school.” Jisung took in a deep breath before continuing. “That was when Harvey came up to me and talked about DNYL. I have never regret joining.” He lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m glad you’ve found your place here.” I complimented amicably. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in with us.” He flashed a kind and soft smile that didn’t make me hesitate to reciprocate the gesture. “Ah shoot!” Jisung rose up from the couch. I looked up at him with a surprised expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to drag Jaemin here.” Jisung groaned out loud, running a hand through his hair and ruffling it on the crown of his head. “Actually- I’ll just let Jeno handle him.” Jisung said. “But I’m craving for some coffee. Want me to get you anything?” I gave an eye smile in response. “Strawberry tea would be nice.” Jisung breathed a chuckle and downshifted his head. “Alright. Be right back!” Jisung ran to the door and exited, closing the door carefully and quietly.

I smacked my lips, my fingers unconsciously digging into the packet as I continuously shoved chips into my mouth like a machine. I finished it within minutes and threw it in the dustbin. Not knowing what to do, I decided to get my laptop out and finish whatever I can for my coursework. and doing more research. I realised that there was a speaker on the table and decided to use it, blasting hyped songs for me to vibe through my work.

“Jaemin!” Jeno shouted as he slammed the door to Jaemin’s dorm wide open. Jeno stared at Jaemin. He’s in his grey hoodie and sweatpants that Jisung assumed he never changed out of. He had cups and cups of empty Starbucks all laid across the table along with his stacks of paper. Jaemin had his body leaned against the easel where the large piece of paper that had his layout propped on it.

Jeno huffed, walking up to Jaemin and shaking his shoulder vigorously. “Jaemin, wake up. How long have you been like this?” Jeno asked worryingly. Jaemin fluttered his eyes open halfway, looking around lazily and rubbing his eyes before his friend of five years came to view. “Time check?” Jaemin whispered, closing his eyes back for a moment.

“Wednesday, five pm. Jaemin you’ve been up for days. Get some rest at the play room, will you?” Jeno pouted looking at his friend who was completely worn out to the core and obviously concerned for his health due to the amount of coffee he’s been indulging himself in for the past three days.

Jaemin sighed, pulling his hood down and looking at Jeno, forcing a sincere smile to make him look the slightest bit awake. “Can I skip today’s meeting? I can just sleep here.” Jaemin forced himself out of his uncomfortable position against the easel and went for his bed, dropping his almost lifeless body onto it and sinking into the sheets. Jeno sighed quietly, smacking his lips. “Alright. Please just sleep. And clean your damn room it reeks of coffee.”

Jaemin hummed in reply, slowly nodding his head while pulling his blanket over his body and getting comfortable. “I’m just about done with my project. Maybe two more weeks? Then I’ll be back to normal so tell them to not worry about me.” Jeno scoffed, walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge. “I think they’re more furious than worried, Nana. They kept complaining when you weren’t there yesterday.” Jaemin exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “How’s the promotion coming along?”

Jeno glanced upwards thoughtfully before answering. “It’s... I don’t know. We tried playing our song on college radio but Lee Taeyong called it off halfway and played his song instead. But! We have a new member.” Jaemin’s eyes shot open at the mention of new members. He looked at him, blinking his eyes rapidly. “How many?” “One.” Jeno quickly answered, making Jaemin let out a ‘tsk’ and closing his eyes back. “Just one? Harvey was able to recruit all of us in one go.”

“Tell that to jisung.” Jeno scoffed. “But I mean at least it’s a girl.” Jeno folded his arms and shrugged nonchalantly. Jaemin furrowed his brows. “Girl? Isn’t DNYL suppose to be an all boys club?” Jeno rolled his eyes at his friend’s comment. “Change of rules now that Haechan’s head. Plus, it’s not just the guys that have a rough time with relationships. Girls suffer too. And the club will help them.” Jaemin scoffed in reply. “He used the sticker method?” Jeno hummed in reply.

“And I wonder just what is the girl’s reason for joining the club.”

Jeno raised a brow at his friend, who now seemed to be wide awake and intrigued due to the conversation. “I mean barely know her enough to ask but maybe she will if all members come by.” “Yeah no.” Jeno groaned and rose up from the bed, making his way for the door. He turned to Jaemin, who already had his eyes closed with his chest going up and down soothingly

“Don’t continue being like this, Nana...” Jeno whispered, glancing to Jaemin one last before going out and closing the door behind him.

Once Jaemin heard the door close, he got up, sitting straight and leaning his back against the headboard supported by pillows. After staring into blank space for a moment, he slowly reached for his guitar that was propped beside his bed. He began to strum mindlessly while deep in thought.

Jaemin’s fingers got ready after he made sure that the guitar sat comfortably on his lap. He began to play a common tune, not knowing what song to play. But it didn’t take long for his fingers to play the tune of the song he wrote for her, as if they had a mind of its own. But he couldn’t sing it. It pained him too much that he never saw her again after that trip.

“Fuck I’m stupid.” Jaemin whispered after singing a lyric with a shaky voice, lips quivering with each word being sung out. He leaned his head back on the headboard, biting his lower lip hard to hold back his tears as he continued to strum, his being slowly crashing down and falling apart at the thought of her. 

After about slightly more than half an hour later, Jisung came back with our drinks, followed by the rest of the members entering behind. “Thanks.” I said, taking the tea that Jisung handed out to me. Everyone gathered around in a circle around the couch, some jamming to the song I was playing. But I decided to stop it since I didn’t want to seem rude and have it as a distraction during our time together.

“Jaemin’s sleeping?” Renjun asked. Jeno nodded his head in reply, lips puckered. “He looked so drained and dead. He said that he’ll be done with his project in two weeks time so I guess he’ll be there by then.” Jeno said, leaning back and having his body supported with his two hands behind him. 

“Don’t you think there’s something going on with him though?” Mark questioned, which suddenly led the room to complete silence for a split second before Jisung coughed to break it. “Well we don’t know for sure. Jeno, do you know?” All eyes turned to Jeno. I could only listen and take in information, not knowing the context behind the conversation.

“No. He doesn’t even want to tell me though I’ve been his friend for five years.” Jeno explained. “What’s wrong with Jaemin...?” I asked nervously, afraid if my question was too disrespectful or an invasion of privacy. The air that surrounded us was thick, as if everyone’s on edge and not thinking straight. It didn’t take me long to realise that Jaemin has always been a big factor of this club, having the ability to put his club in such a state even with his absence. 

Haechan licked his lips, looking around as if trying to come up with a way to phrase his answer. “He... Ever since the start of college, we just feel as if he’s here, but also not.” Haechan paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “He never shared why he wanted to join this club. I mean clearly we want to know but we aren’t that nosy to the point where we want to force it out of him. We respected the fact that he didn’t want to share.”

“But we always felt that it was something that impacted him greatly because despite having us, it seems like he’s using work as a way to cope. Again explains his constant indulgence of coffee. He’s been quite closed off to us for a long time but he’s getting better... I guess.” Renjun added on. I could tell that the last part was filled with uncertainty, him not being fully satisfied with his explanation but refuses to add on any further. “He’ll come around. We can just hope. But for now...” Chenle trailed on, taking a seat next to me and wrapping a friendly arm around my shoulders. “Let’s have a fun welcome party for our new member.”

We ended up watching a movie. Specifically a scary movie after we ordered take out. “You guys are serious scaredy-cats!” Haechan laughed, taking a bite of his chicken and leaning forward closer to the TV screen while all of us had our eyes covered by the pillows we were holding up. Renjun smacked a pillow on Haechan’s head, making everyone laugh and have the room filled with lightness out of simple humour.

“Don’t act so brave, idiot.” Just then, a jumpscare came up, making everyone jump on their seats and Haechan screaming at the top of his lungs out of pure fear which made Jisung fall of the couch from shock. “Haechan!” Jisung shouted, groaning as he went back up to sit on the couch. Haechan turned around, forehead creased and face scrunched up. “Not my fault!”

“Shut up you literally acted as if you weren’t scared like one minute ago!” Chenle fired his words at full speed. And everyone, especially Mark’s laughter really lit the room’s atmosphere and making me feel a whole lot better already. Haechan told me that the club didn’t have a specific goal or anything, we were all just here to have fun, forget our problems.

It was a long night. After movie time we played arcade games, which was just all of them being extremely competitive except for me and Mark who were simply laughing in the background like spectators watching an intense scene with many complications that we couldn’t help but laugh at. We did everything that the play room offered. And throughout the whole time, I really felt happy, truly happy. I wasn’t stagnant. I actually felt the joy from hanging out with them. It’s as if I’ve forgotten the fact that I’ve felt so alone all this time, and opening up to feelings that I’ve never experienced in a long time.

I checked the time. It was one in the morning surprisingly. We all huddled around the couch, I was wrapped in the blanket while the others hugged their pillows. They dimed the lights and I swear I could doze off in any second due to the night we just had. “Hey, _____?” Jisung called out to me, making me turn to him and humming in question.

“Why did you want to join this club? I mean I know you didn’t come willingly but what made you accept our offer?” I puffed my cheeks, blowing them out after a moment. “It’s a long story but to cut it short, I met someone while I was on a trip at the beach. We connected so much. But we didn’t get each other’s names, or numbers, anything that’ll lead us back to each other once we parted ways.” I chuckled to myself, running a hand down my face.

“And I simply felt that I couldn��t be mindlessly searching for him without anything to lead on. I was wasting time, waiting for someone that’ll never come back. I guess I just wanted to join to forget.” I raised my shoulders up, the blanket covering half my face i. doing so. I would’ve cried and broke down if I were to tell the story in full. I was shocked at myself for not even breaking a tear or cracking my voice.

“How were you guys dumb enough not to exchange numbers? Even names! Isn’t that a basic thing to know about someone you just met?” Chenle asked, sounding concerned and intruiged as if wanting to know more about the whole ordeal. I laughed, shaking my head, thinking about how ridiculous it is going to sound out of my mouth.

“I don’t know how to explain exactly. But I guess we made that silent agreement to stay as strangers as a way for us to be who we want to be in front of the other without being judged one bit. We didn’t know each other’s backgrounds, so whatever we wanted to portray to the other was what the other got to see. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“But we showed, so much of ourselves to each other. Our relationship grew so deep in the span of two months. He was like... a familiarly unfamiliar stranger. If that makes any sense.” I moved all my down to fall on one shoulder, combing my hair with my fingers as I pursed my lips into a thin line.

I suddenly realised that we were in those “deep late night talk” vibes. It felt somewhat comforting, having a place where I could just let it all out. They made me feel safe and secured, everyone nodding their heads and letting my words sink in. “That’s a much more deep reason than what any of us have.” Haechan whispered, everyone nodding their heads firmly with affirmation.

“Well I can’t be dwelling on the past forever.” I smiled, one that I didn’t have to force out. “What time do you guys’ classes start tomorrow?” I asked with a raised brow of curiosity. “We all start in the afternoon.” Jisung suddenly gasped, making everyone’s heads turn to him. “Can we have a sleepover since we’re all here and cozy?” Jisung’s face lit up in such an adorable manner that made me laugh softly.

“Should we?” Jeno asked copying the smile I had on my face while we all exchanged looks. “I don’t mind. I have an eleven am lecture but I can go back to my dorm before then.” Jisung clapped his hands in excitement, shaking his body around happily. “Great!”

And that’s what we ended up doing. We kept up with the late night conversation, talking about anything and everything, going deep with our emotions and pouring it all out in our circle to be kept within us and us only. I was surprised at how much they shared with me despite it being my first day in the club but I liked that I was being trusted, it made me feel important. Eventually all of us slowly drifted off to sleep. But Jeno was wide awake. He couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the girl that had her head thrown back lazily as she snored softly in her sleep. With folded arms, his eyes narrowed down on her intensely, deep in thought.

“How am I going to tell him if it is what I think it is...?” Jeno whispered ever so softly, almost inaudible to himself. His head was spinning, countless of thoughts running through his mind. He was in a daze, not sure of what to do as if sandwiched between two options that he so desperately want to remove himself out of but can’t, for his best friend.

Digging deeper, he began to wonder what would be the aftermath of the different options he had laid out in front of him. This only sent him further down into the loophole of contemplation and confusion, not to mention the fact that he might be late for classes now due to staying up this late.

Morning came. I woke up, eyes half opened and just barely awake. I looked at the time on my phone. 9:05. Perfect amount of time for me to head back and get ready before class. I looked around, the room still dark due to the fact that there was little to no sunlight pssing through the cracks of the door. I slid myself out of the couch slowly and carefully. While trying go shimmy myself through the boys, I noticed a post it on Jeno’s shoulder. I leaned in, squinting my eyes to get them to focus.

“Wake me up before you head out, thanks.” My eyes flickered back and forth from the note and to Jeno who was sleeping peacefully. I puckered my lips, poking his shoulder gently. “Jeno? Wake up?” I urged with uncertainty. Jeno was quick to shoot his eyes open, glancing sideways before squinting his eyes to get his focus on me. “Thanks.” He whispered, sitting up and snatching the post-it from his arm to crumple it and throw it out in the dustbin.

“You could’ve woken up way later.” I said. Jeno hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I didn’t have the best sleep last night. Was scared that I’ll be late for class.” Jeno smiled softly at me, a tired but sincere smile. “Have a good day at class.” I bid him goodbye with the downshift of my head, exiting the play room and coming out of the common room to the basement.

Just as I was walking, I had my eyes glued on the floor. But I saw a figure speed walked pass. I glanced over my shoulder, the figure disappearing in a flash as they took a turn and entered the play room. I stopped for a moment, taking slow steps backwards till I reach the door, eyes squinting as I tried to think about who the person was. I peeked my head ever so slightly, not being able to get a clear look due to the darkness. However, I could tell it was a guy wearing a loose hoodie and sweatpants. Having his hood on, his identity was completely concealed from the world’s view.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here. Go sleep at-” A slam of the door was heard right after, cutting Jeno’s words off entirely with the room falling silent again. I blinked my eyes rapidly. “That was Jaemin?” I asked myself, slowly walking in the direction I was headed before.

In the play room, Jaemin dropped himself face first into the couch that was empty now that she’s gone. Jeno pushed Jaemin’s leg to give him space to sit at the edge. “Why’re you here? I told you to sleep in your dorm where it’s comfortable-”

“I just wanted to sleep with you guys here.” Jaemin cut the other’s words quickly with a mutter. Jeno rolled his eyes, looking at how Jaemin had his hood up so much that it was covering half of his face. “You do know that _____ just left, right? Didn’t you see her on your way here?” Jaemin gave a light shrug, hugging himself with his arms wrapped around his torso.

“_____? Note taken. I genuinely didn’t care enough to notice.” Jaemin replied with much ignorance. Jeno clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his friend’s behaviour. “Jaemin, she’s a new member. At least talk to her soon. Also...” Jeno began, making Jaemin look to him slowly with uncertainty. One word from Jeno and he knows it’s be something serious. “You obviously won’t believe me but...”

“I think she’s the one.” Jeno whispered as he stared at Jaemin, their eyes locking its contact with each other. The air between them was nothing but silence, Jaemin resonated Jeno’s words ever so carefully in his mind, making sure he heard that correctly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one can be her.” Jaemin shot back with full denial, refusing to believe Jeno.

“But Jae-”

“Please, don’t talk about her. My heart can’t bear it at all.” Jaemin’s eyes grew soft with his words. Jeno could tell that he was breaking, slowly and silently. As much as he wants to help Jaemin, he can’t do anything if he refuses it, shutting the world out and dealing with it by himself. It was big enough of a surprise that Jaemin shared what happened with Jeno. He couldn’t possibly ask for more.

“Alright. But I’ll be saying ‘told you so’ once you meet her. That I know for sure.” Jeno slouched into the couch more, closing his eyes and wanting to rest them before class later in the afternoon while Jaemin was already asleep and snoring softly.

However, despite Jaemin’s eyes being closed, his mind was wide awake with his gears turning in his head. She can’t possibly be in this college. It couldn’t have been her that he walked past mindlessly moments ago. For some reason, he wanted to fully denial it. He didn’t want to believe Jeno at all. But how could he not? Jeno’s his best friend so why would he even lie? What was the reason for Jaemin’s strong delusion? The longer he thought, the more he realised that it was maybe the fact that he was too afraid to face her if she were to ever stand in front of him. Who knows what could have happened to someone you didn’t see in years? People change, and Jaemin was afraid as to how she did.

I wasn’t over at the play room everyday. But if I was, there’d always be someone there for me to hang out with. It was only during the weekends when the whole group would gather together and spend the day free of worries to escape from their realities. Two weeks have passed, and I have yet to encounter the Jaemin that everyone kept worrying over. I was holding in my curiosity for far too long.

“Hey, guys?” I asked after placing a card down. We were playing Uno. I nudged on Mark who was sitting beside me, telling him to place a card. Everyone turned their heads to me, some humming while others had their brows raised. “When can I meet Jaemin? I’m getting quite impatient.” I said with a frown on my face, hearing Mark slamming his card down and shouting, “Plus four, Renjun!” Renjun groaned, sliding one card at a time off the center stack. “He should be here any minute now.” “What do you mean?”

“We sorta guessed that on top of his busy schedule he seems to be avoiding you. Not sure why but we had to lie that you weren’t here so that he’ll come.” Haechan shrugged, it was now his turn, putting a card down. I leaned back slightly, stretching out my back since we’ve been sitting here for hours playing different board games.

“Uno!” Just when Chenle shouted, the door flung open, our heads shooting to the direction. I couldn’t believe what stood at the doorframe. “Jaemin there you are!” Jisung wanted to run up to him but Jaemin pushed him away lightly.

I was met with his eyes. I was in too much of a shock that my mind went blank. I wasn’t able to process any of this. It’s as if time stopped the moment we locked eyes. He’s in front of me, the stranger from the beach. Many emotions began to flood my mind. It was a mix of everything. Happiness, fear, anxiousness, confusion. He’s right in front of my eyes, yet he looked so different. He had jet black hair, his style completely changed too. He had a stoic face, not like the bright and cheerful one I’ve always seen.

“So you’re Jaemin...?”

“_____...”

Jaemin took wobbly steps back, his pupils shaking with his lips quievering as he ran right out of the door. Jeno blinked his eyes rapidly and instantly chased after his best friend. The room was filled with silence, everyone’s eyes still at the door as I was still frozen stiff from whatever that just happened. It went by too fast. My blank expression didn’t show emotions that were overflowing in my small mind.

Outside, Jaemin was running as fast as he could, wanting to not belive whatever he had just seen. She was there. She was in the same room. It took him a matter of seconds to see that she hasn’t changed. He didn’t need time to look at her to know that. But that wasn’t why Jaemin was running away.

“Wait! Jaemin!” Jeno reached for Jaemin’s wrist and forcefully turned him around. “What is going on with you?!” Jeno asked, concern imbued into his tone.

“What do you think, Jeno?! She’s in the fucking room. And the reason why I joined this club was to get over her. Now you’re telling me she’s in the same club which whole purpose is to not fall in love?! H-How do you think I could even stay in that god damn room without breaking at the sight of her? I told you before. I fucking fell in love with her. And seeing her after two years, it just makes me want to fall and melt into the floor since I can’t bare to face up to her after suffering for so long at her absence next to me, okay? I just... It’s too much to handle.”

Tears were pricking Jaemin’s eyes, but for the sake of his pride, he wanted to claim that not a single one fell, releasing Jeno’s grip on him and running. He didn’t know where, all he thought about was to continue running. He couldn’t stand still, he had to do something. And that something was to run away, not wanting to accept that he has to bear all the feelings and everything that comes with having to see her more often, especially in a club where falling in love was forbidden, having it to be the whole reason for the club being made in the first place.

[tomthesoftie]

let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears 

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In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat. 

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties. 

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours. 

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan. 

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers. 

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically. 

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision. 

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids. 

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration. 

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes. 

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground. 

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.” 

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle. 

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies. 

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship. 

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life. 

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips. 

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair. 

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal. 

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance. 

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.” 

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation. 

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

taglist: @big-galaxy-chaos @chloecreatesfictions-archive @dpaccione @cuddlykoala101 @tomshufflepuff @lmaotshollandd​ if you would like to be removed from the taglist, please send to my inbox

[kuroopaisen]

happy accident || iwaizumi hajime

➵ writing a love letter is stupid. childish, even. but it’s no big deal, so long as iwaizumi hajime doesn’t get his hands on it... right? 

 wc: 4k

warnings: f!reader is the captain of the girls volleyball team, cursing 

request: “kind of specific, hope you don't mind but possibly iwa-chan attempting teenage love by accepting the feelings of an accidentally-sent love letter from the girl's volleyball team captain?”

a/n: this was so fun, thank you for requesting it! a big thank you to @nostalgic-yet-forgotten for beta’ing this! 

“Thank you,” Iwaizumi said, offering you a strained smile as he held your pencil out to you.

“Not a problem,” you nodded, trying to take it out of his hand with as little contact as possible.

“Hey, uh,” he stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at you. “How are you doing contemporary lit?”

“Contemporary lit?” You frowned. “I, uh… fine? Not great, but…”

“Right,” Iwaizumi nodded, clearing his throat. “Well, see you around.”

“Sure.”

With that, he was gone.

You watch him go with a budding discontent.

What was that? That barely counted as a conversation. And for God’s sake, why had it taken him a week to return your damn pencil? You’d just assumed he’d forgotten.

You could feel Yuri’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.

“I know,” you grumbled as she zipped to your side, taking her usual spot on your bench. You’d both made a habit of sitting here during lunch – a stone’s throw from the gym, and a short walk to the vending machine.  

“Was that…”

“It was.”

“Fraternising with the enemy, I see.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.” You glared at her, reaching into your bag in some attempt to leave the conversation.

‘Fraternising with the enemy’ was one way of putting it. The ‘enemy’ being a member of Seijoh’s famous volleyball team.

Well, the boys’ volleyball team. That was the only one people wanted to talk about. The girls' team never seemed to get as much attention. And that, quite frankly, was unfair. Yes, the boys' team worked hard; but so did you. So did your girls.

Also, if it weren't for your boundless grace -- and the acknowledgement that a criminal record might mar your college applications -- you would've shoved your fist down Oikawa Tooru's throat by now. He was talented, yes, but you’d always found him kind of an ass. Made worse by all the attention he got – his personality plus an adoring fan club always seemed a recipe for disaster to you.

Iwaizumi Haijme, however, was another matter entirely.

A matter you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Why do you look so angry?” Yuri frowned, tilting her head at you.

“Because, uh… because Iwaizumi took all week to return my damn pencil,” you huffed, shoving the offending object into your pencil case. “And he decided to ruin a perfectly good lunchtime just to return it.”

“Don’t you have a crush on him?” Yuri asked in a hushed tone, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, but…” You sucked your breath in through your teeth. “I'm mad about it."

"You're mad about having a crush on him?" She raised an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah."

"Why exactly?"

"Because he's…"

There wasn't any real reason. You just felt that there had to be some natural rivalry between the two of you, given the state of your respective teams. Sure, Iwaizumi himself hadn't done anything wrong, but it was the principle of it. Worst of all, he was best friends with Oikawa Tooru. Sure, he seemed to be… long-suffering, but the connection was there.

“I’m just mad, okay?” You whispered, hoping to God none of your classmates had decided to eavesdrop on the conversation. But that’s the price you paid, talking about such things so brazenly. “I’ve got all these… these feelings but they’ve got nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean?” Yuri asked, taking a sip of her milk.

“Well, you know,” you mumbled, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I’m never going to tell him about it, so they just… sort of sit there. Stewing. Unanswered.” You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “I just want them to go away.”

That, really, would be the most ideal situation. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Embarrassing, really.

"Look," Yuri sighed, looking up at the sky. "Why don't you just write him a love letter?"

"You're kidding, right?" You scoffed. "Do you want me to do a whole confession? Ask him to meet me on the rooftop after school as the sun sets behind us?"

"You're not going to give it to him, you idiot," she mumbled. "Just to like... get your feelings out, you know? Teen angst and whatnot."

"You're making very little sense."

"Okay, three things," she said, holding up her hand. "One, you're not going to tell him how you feel, right? That means you're just gonna stew in your feelings. Like you always do."

"Uncalled for, but okay.”  

"Two, sometimes writing down how your feeling is cathartic. And maybe that'll help you move on."

"Or it could complicate things because I'll overthink it."

"Three, I, personally, am sick and tired of hearing about Mr. Iwaizumi 'personally crafted by the hands of Michelangelo himself' Hajime, and therefore implore you to try getting him out of your system through any means possible."

"I don't talk about him that much." Did you?

Yuri gave you a dithering look. "No, you don't. Just like Oikawa's fan club never talks about his ridiculously swoopy hair."

You glared at her, crossing your arms over your chest. “You make it sound like he’s the only thing I ever talk about.”

“Oh, not at all,” Yuri shrugged. “But I can’t help but think you’d be a lot less angry if you got over him.”

“And you think writing a stupid love letter is going to help me do that?” You rolled your eyes. You knew Yuri wasn’t stupid – she was almost aggravatingly clever, sometimes – but this was the worst plan you’d heard from her in a while.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“I’m not writing a damn love letter okay?”

✧✧✧

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all,” Yuri grinned. “Just do it for me, okay? As an early birthday gift.”

“Yuri, your birthday’s not for another three months.”

“Just do it. Or else I will march up to that boy and tell him myself.”

You knew she was more than capable of making good on a threat like that. Best not to risk it.

"You want me to write it now?" You frowned, looking between your best friend and the writing pad set on your lap. You’d hoped she’d forgotten your conversation from yesterday, but you never got that lucky. Not with Yuri.

"Uh huh," Yuri yawned, sitting cross-legged on the bench.

She'd dragged you into the gym just as school had ended, telling you that it was for something very important and very urgent.

"Why?"

"I wanna see you actually go through with it," she shrugged, taking a sip from the juice box in her hand.

"Can't I just… do it at home and send you a photo?" You tilted your head at her. You still had to survive practice, after all. And there was a chance you’d bump into him before the day was done.  

Yuri shook her head. "Nah. If you're alone -- and if you have all evening to do it -- you'll just overthink it and that'll defeat the point."

You glared at her. She hardly seemed to notice.

"Besides," she shrugged. "If you do it at home, you'll just text me about him."

“Yuri, I do not—”

“Letter,” she hummed, tapping the paper. “We don’t have much time.”

She wasn’t about to concede any time soon. You could see it in her eyes.

"I literally cannot believe you're making me do this," you grumbled, picking up the pencil with tense fingers.

"It's for your own good," she sighed, waving her hand at you. "Then you can shift your focus to the real prize of the boys' volleyball team."

You raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm talking about Makki, duh."

You snorted. "That wouldn't really fix my problem, would it?"

Yuri shrugged. "Hey, at least he'd be more fun to talk about than Iwaizumi."

"And that's because…"

"I dunno. He seems off-beat. Kinda weird."

"Don't be mean."

"I'm not! It's a compliment!"

"So, will you be writing him a love letter, or?"

"I didn't say I'm interested, I just—" Yuri took a deep breath, pressing her eyelids with two fingers. "Look, just write the damn letter!"

It was easier than you thought it would be. That in itself was more embarrassing than the fact you were writing an honest to God love letter to Iwaizumi Hajime. As much as you were resisting it, the words just flowed.

You hadn’t even realised there were so many things to like about him. And apparently, you’d noticed all of them. Maybe you were in deeper than you’d thought.

And this letter was getting a lot longer than you’d expected.

Alright. That was enough.

“Done,” you sighed, tossing the pencil onto the writing pad with a little more force than necessary.

“So,” Yuri drawled, tilting her head at you. “How do you feel?”

“Worse!” You cried. “Now I’ve actually had to think about why I like him and that makes it worse.”

“Ah. My bad.”

“This is going in the bin right now,” you huffed, standing to your feet. “And we are never speaking about this ever again.”

“Duly noted,” Yuri sighed, slipping off the table.

You stormed out of the locker room, tossing the cursed letter at the bin. You never wanted to see that damned thing ever again.

✧✧✧ 

"Guess what I found!"

Yahaba's voice rang through the locker room, a tad too much delight in his voice.

“Your dignity?” Matsukawa called out.  

"Even better," Yahaba's face appeared from the doorway, grinning. "It's a love letter."

He held his hand up, a small, crumpled piece of paper pinched between his fingers.

"Just put it with the rest of them," Oikawa sighed, waving a hand at him. Iwaizumi's eye twitched.

"Uh…" Yahaba cleared his throat, eyes flicking to where the rest of the third years were standing. "It's not actually for you."

Everyone's head perked up at that.

"Huh?" Matsukawa tilted his head to the side.

"Who's it for, then?" Kindaichi asked quietly, the top of his ears blushed red.

"Iwaizumi."

A moment of shocked silence.

"What?"

All eyes were on him. Iwaizumi could already feel his cheeks growing red.

Someone had left a letter for… him? Not for Oikawa?

Seriously?

Yahaba slunk towards him, holding the letter out. The fact he seemed a little nervous about it made Iwaizumi feel something akin to annoyance.

"Did you read it?" Iwaizumi swallowed roughly, yanking it from Yahaba's hand like an unlucky fortune strip.

"Just who it's for," Yahaba said, eyes on the ground. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, but he didn't press the issue further.

There was no way this letter was supposed to end up in his hands. None at all.

"Well, are you gonna read it?" Hanamaki was smirking. Iwaizumi didn't even need to look at him to be sure of that.

"No," Iwaizumi grumbled. "Isn't that a little rude?"

"But Iwa, the drama--"

"Don't be an ass," he grunted, cutting Oikawa off. Sure, he was curious himself, but he wasn't going to embarrass the writer. Not if it wasn't even meant to get to him. 

“Fine,” Oikawa sighed, waving a hand at him. “Let’s start, okay?”

Iwaizumi tried to ignore the strange feeling in his chest for the entirety of practice. He really, truly did.  

But by the time he got home, his curiosity had reached its absolute limit.

He lay on his bed, turning the letter over in his hands. Something about it felt so… sacred. So forbidden. It had his name on it, but it hadn’t been given to him by anyone. It hadn’t even been left anywhere for him. Yahaba had ‘found’ it.

Should he read it? Should he put it in the bin?

Thoughts about what it might say had hounded him all practice. He could barely focus on the matter at hand – no, he just kept wondering who could possibly have written him a love letter.

He had to read the damn thing. If he didn’t, he was sure the suspense would drive him mad.

He sighed, unfolding it.

 “Dear Hajime Iwaizumi,

Admittedly I'm not great at this sort of thing. It wasn't even my idea. You can thank Yuri for that. Apparently I talk about you too much so she told me to put my feelings down on paper. So, that's what I'm trying to do.”

He frowned. Yuri? Wasn’t that the vice-captain of the girls’ team? And the author talked about him too much? A girl talked about him? Not in comparison to Oikawa?

I first noticed you in our first year (I promise I'm not about to launch into a whole retrospective -- that's not only a waste of time, but it's also deeply unromantic), when you made a killer spike during practice. I came to watch because I wanted to scope out what the boy's team was like. I didn't expect to be genuinely impressed. So, congrats, I guess? Good job?

Practice? The author had been there during practice? Why would they want to ‘scope out’ what the boy’s team was like? He’d assume it was one of Oikawa’s fans, but…

Anyway, I thought you were kind of cute, so I kept an eye on you. Oh man, that sounds creepy. I promise I didn't get up to anything weird, I just yearned from afar. I thought it would pass. But then, like, halfway through second year you got hot. So, fuck you for that one.”

He snorted at that.

“Okay, this is sounding less like a confession and more like a list of your crimes. Sorry, just some of that unnecessary rivalry I've built up in my head towards the boys' team.”

The reference to the ‘boys’ team’ again. Was this who he thought it was?

No. He wouldn’t let himself hope.

“That aside, I couldn't help but notice how dedicated you are to the sport. How hard you work. How much you apply yourself. It mustn't be easy, keeping Oikawa in check; he strikes me as the sort who's prone to self-destructing if no-one's looking. But it's like you keep him grounded. I'm not sure if you get praise enough for that.  

And I can tell that your team really, really respects you. Especially your underclassmen. That's no small feat, you know. I mean, I'm sure you do know, but—”

He pressed a hand to his face. Yep. He was burning up, alright.

“I don't quite know how to explain it, but I see this kindness in you as well. We've only spoken a handful of times, but when we have, I've always felt like you've respected me and what I have to say. A lot of the girls are scared shitless of you, but they all feel safe when you're around.”

‘The girls’? As in… the girls’ volleyball team? God, what he wouldn’t give…   

“Okay, I'm definitely rambling, and I'm not making a lot of sense, but thank you for being a good guy. That's a big part of why I'm so attracted to you.

So, this has gotten embarrassingly long. I'm sure my face is bright red as I write this.”

If only he could let the author know that his face was just as red while reading it.

“TL;DR -- you're hot and you seem cool. Also, you look great when you're all sweaty after practice. I don't know how you manage it.

Okay bye.”

And there, at the very bottom, was your name.

His heart felt like it was going to both collapse and burst through his chest.

You’d written all that. You. The captain of the girls’ volleyball team. The girl that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you walked in the room. The girl he kept borrowing stationery from because it gave him an excuse to talk to you. The girl he was sure overlooked him for other members of his team.

You’d written him a love letter.

What should he do? What should he say? Should he say anything? You hadn’t actually given it to him yourself. Did that mean you didn’t want him to see it?

God, he felt like he needed to get up and pace. He sat up, slinging his legs over the side of his bed.

He couldn’t just ignore this. Not when you’d said all that. Not when he’d been paying just as much attention to you these past three years. But again, you hadn’t handed it to him yourself, and –

He clapped his cheeks in a poor attempt to ground himself.

No. He had to act on this.

And soon.

✧✧✧ 

"He's here."

"Huh?"

Yuri nodded at the door of the gym. You looked over your shoulder. Huh? Iwaizumi?

"Do you know why?" You asked, turning back to your best friend.

"No idea," Yuri shrugged. "Looks like he wants to talk to you, though."

You frowned, turning to look at him again. He gave you a tiny wave. It looked so bizarre coming from him. But, admittedly, it was kind of cute. "He better not be trying to kick us out of the gym," you mumbled, turning around and jogging towards him.

Iwaizumi took a step back as you closed in, putting a bit more distance between the two of you.

Rude, you thought. Even after I’ve written him a love letter and everything. Not that he knew that.

“How can I help you?” You sighed, trying to smile at him a little.

“Uh…” He was staring at his feet. That was unusual. He always made eye contact with you – and you knew, because you always had to make sure you weren’t intimidated by those striking eyes of his.

Was he… blushing a little?

What’s going on?

“Can I speak to you in private?” He sounded nervous. Why on earth –

Oh. Oh no.

You could feel your teammates staring at you. Not that they knew what had happened. But there were certainly whispers about you and Iwaizumi.

"Outside," you barked, pointing one stiff arm out the door. "Now."

Iwaizumi nodded, turning on his heels and marching away.

You scurried after him, your mind bubbling with a whole slew of anxieties. Were you about to get rejected? How did he even get his hands on that cursed letter in the first place? Couldn’t he have just ignored it?

You walked a short distance from the gym, tucked around the side. At the very least, he’d chosen a location that’d minimise the number of passers-by.

But it was also the side of the gym that faced the setting sun. Meaning that a warm glow was illuminating his aggravatingly handsome features in the most delightful way.

You felt like you were about to die.

You were about to be rejected by The Iwaizumi Haijime while he looked this beautiful—

“Here,” he mumbled, holding the letter out to you.

You frowned. You hadn’t seen him get it out. “Where did you get this?”

“One of the guys found it,” he shrugged.

Oh. Of course. You may as well start digging your own grave.

“Are you okay?” He asked, letting his arm drop to the side when you made no move to grab that cursed little McGuffin.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” you swallowed, hands gripping your shorts.

“Oh…”

“My friend, she—she thought that I should write about my feelings for you to get them out of my system, so—” Why were you telling him all this? This just made you feel worse?

“Oh,” he swallowed. “I see.”

A pause. A deeply painful pause.

“So you don’t feel like this anymore?”

Was that… disappointment on his face? Heartbreak? Something of a similar ilk?

Oh. Oh, letting yourself hope was a very bad idea. But you couldn’t help it.

You shook your head, your cheeks beginning to head up. “I… I definitely still feel all those things I put in the letter.” Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the details very well. God, you hoped they weren’t too embarrassing. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, let’s just… pretend it never happened.”

You tried to smile, but you didn’t know how convincing it was. It definitely wasn’t.

He smiled. God, he was so damn beautiful. You really were going to die.

You’d never seen him smile like this before, had you? That was a damned shame. At least it would be the last thing you saw before you—

“What if I don’t want to pretend this never happened, though?”

Wait, what? Had he really just said that?

“Why… why wouldn’t you?” Your heart was about to hammer its way through your ribcage, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

He finally looked you in the eyes. His own were so intense, so beautifully green. “Well, I-I was hoping I’d be able to take you out on a date.”

Oh shit. Did the great Iwaizumi Hajime just stutter?

Your face bloomed red. “I’d love that,” was the only thing you could choke out.

And God, his smile. The one you’d seen just a few minutes earlier was nothing compared to this. No, this smile was the last hit you could take.

Iwaizumi wondered if he should do something; hug you, hold your hand, kiss your cheek. But he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep it together if he did.

So, he just gave you some kind of nod-bow – something a little awkward yet earnest.

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

“So,” he rose back to full height, clearing his throat. “Friday, after practice?”

You tilted your head at him. “Won’t you be all sweaty, though?”

A new kind of smile touched his lips. Three flavours of Iwaizumi Hajime’s smile in one day. You truly were blessed.

“I thought you liked me like that.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck. You’d written that in the letter, hadn’t you?

You clamped your hands over your face. You couldn’t look at him anymore. Not today, at least.

Iwaizumi laughed gently. God, you were so cute. “Really, though. Is that time okay with you?”

You just nodded, hands still covering your face.

“I look forward to it,” he said. And he smiled, even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

He wanted to say something else. To compliment you, maybe. But he couldn’t think of what to say – there was too much, and he didn’t know how to phrase any of it.

And, he didn’t want to embarrass you. You looked one compliment away from an implosion.

“See you around,” he murmured. And with that, he walk-jogged back the way he came. He just hoped that his face wasn’t too red. The guys would never let him live that down.

You peeked through your fingers. Yep, he was definitely gone.

You keeled over, taking a deep breath. Did you really manage to make it through that in one piece? Without saying anything too embarrassing? Well, past the fact that your shitty love letter had ended up in his hands…

But that didn’t matter much. No, there was something much more important.

The Iwaizumi Hajime wanted to take you on a date. Did that mean he liked you, too? Well, he obviously liked you a little, since he’d asked, but…

Oh, this was so embarrassing. You really needed to get yourself together.

You had a date on Friday, after all. 

✧✧✧

“Good job letting one of the second years find it,” Yuri murmured, peeking around the corner.

“Ah, well,” Hanamaki chuckled, “that’s how you make it look even more like an accident.”

Yuri looked over her shoulder at him. “Am I a bad person?”

Hanamaki shook his head. “Nah. They needed this push, y’know?”

“Yeah, but…” Yuri bit her lip. “You do realise they’re both perfectly capable of killing us, right? And that’s on their own. Imagine what their combined power looks like.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hanamaki grinned, waving a hand at her. “They’ll be too loved up to notice.”

Yuri frowned, staring off into the distance for a moment.

All’s well that ends well, I suppose, she thought. After all, both her and Hanamaki had worked far too hard to make this happen. At middling cost.

“You know, I had to stick my hand in the garbage for that letter.”

“You did what?”  

[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year ❣︎ Seven: Never Ask Friends for Help

Chapter Summary: As San expected, he caught a cold after your little prance through the storm in Hallim Park the previous day. Luckily, you're fine, which gives you the wonderful opportunity to look after him and the even more wonderful opportunity to let your chaotic nature shine.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, (this chapter is pure fluff and crack) Word count: 3.2k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Six For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Silence filled your room when you woke up the next morning. It was strange, since San had said he would be waking you up, and there you were, still lying in bed by the time noon rolled around.

It wasn’t as if you were waiting for him to come and get you, but you just wanted to take advantage of the time in such a warm blanket. Yeosang often joked about how you became a cold-blooded reptile whenever you felt sleepy, body temperature dropping and your tongue sharp like that of a snake.

Basically, it was his long-winded way of calling you a cranky, heat-stealing bitch.

Not that you minded at all, since Yeosang was a cranky bitch himself when sleepy.

But then half an hour passed, and there was still no sign of San. Throwing the blanket off your form, you slipped on a pair of slippers and got ready for the day, finding him becoming the very next thing on your agenda.

And the state you found him in was certainly laughable--to you anyway.

“Did you seriously get sick after a little storm?” you chuckled, eyes taking in San wrapped in the covers as if he was a baby, sniffling every few seconds.

“Oh, shut it,” he glared at you, speaking with a nasally voice.

You took a step into his room, one looking fairly similar to yours, with little pictures or much personalisation in general. Must not have stayed here often then, or had many memories he wanted to keep.

That thought... it made you feel a little sad.

Once you reached the edge of his bed, you sat down beside him, noticing just how sickly-looking he was. Skin paler, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, flush cheeks and nose, uneven breathing, soft whimpering.

Your smile faded slightly. “How long have you been like this?”

“Since last night,” he coughed, brushing away your hand as you reached out to check his temperature. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you to catch whatever this is.”

Clicked your tongue at his response and did so anyway. “Holy shit, you’re burning up. More than you should be. Has anyone seen to you yet?” Instantly, you brushed the hair from his eyes, simultaneously wiping away the sweat. Was pretty gross, but you didn’t mind at all.

San relaxed under your gentle touch, finding it cool and soothing against his muddled senses. “N-No. I texted Hongjoong to tell everyone to leave me alone. Clearly didn’t do a good enough job if you’re here.”

Lightly hitting his chest over the blanket, you scoffed. “You’re happy I’m here, don’t lie.”

Grinning, he sighed. “Can’t hide anything from you, now can I, Hun?”

“Nope,” you huffed as you got up. “Now, I’m going to prepare something for you to eat since you probably haven’t had anything since yesterday.” On cue, his stomach grumbled painfully loudly, making the man visibly cringe as he was about to decline your offer so you would stay with him for a little bit longer. “Looks like Mister Tummy’s already answered for you.”

“Mister Tummy doesn’t know shit.”

“Mister Tummy knows more shit than you do. In fact, it processes all of your shit for you.”

“Gross.”

“I know. Mister Tummy’s gross. But full of wisdom.”

“You know what, just go. Leave me be for a bit.”

Evil chuckling reached his ears. “Now that you’ve said it, I’ll just be here to annoy you as much as I can. But before we do that, keep yourself bundled up and make sure you’re sweating buckets. It’s the most effective way to break a nasty fever like that.” You began wrapping him up in the thick blanket like he was a burrito.

With that, you left for the kitchen, calling Seonghwa’s number. As the ringing continued, you looked around, noticing how there were few guards and servants around the place. Not even Wooyoung, Jongho, or Hongjoong could be seen in your trek to make food.

“What do you want, troll?”

“You’ve got to stop calling me that. Whatever happened to ‘hello’? Too mainstream for you?”

“...Hello, troll. What do you want?”

Narrowing your eyes ahead of you, smirk pressing against your lips, you tried to look around for the chef. Not there either. “Much better. Now, can you give me a recipe for that soup with ‘magical healing properties’ you used to give me?”

“Bone broth?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m on adventure to nurse a sociopathic cuddle-demon back to health, now are you going to give me the recipe or am I going to get Yunho to drag it out of you? Because I know very well that he will.”

Seonghwa’s sigh was loud enough to be audible through the phone.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Just text me the recipe, thank you, love you, byeeeeee.” Immediately ended the call, looking in all the cupboards, the pantry, the fridge, and the freezer. This place was stocked to the brim.

Shortly after, your phone began buzzing, Seonghwa requesting to video call you. Swiping the green button, you were met with a (slightly laggy) picture of Seonghwa’s chin, hearing him yell off screen. “--UNHO. MINGI. I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU BETTER PUT THAT DOWN BEFORE I SHOVE IT UP BOTH YOUR ASSES.”

You could make out the response, “Hehe, kinky.” Most likely Mingi from the very nature of the comment.

“What do you want, troll?” you echoed his words back to him, catching his attention--the other boys most likely long gone into the depth of the house.

“Well, well, well, how the tables have turned,” he smirked, moving the camera so you could see him better.

“It’s ‘how the turntables’.”

He looked at you with an unimpressed expression, not pleased with your Office reference, and carried on to ignore it. “So there is no way in hell I’m sending you the recipe through text, since people can easily hack that--”

“And by people, you mean--”

“Yeosang, yes, who else? Little rat bastard keeps trying to steal my recipes.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.”

“As if he hasn’t heard it already about a million times.”

You chuckled in response, knowing how true it was. “Fair enough. Now spill your secrets and bless me with the ability to cook.”

One word to describe the last hour of your life would be... Well, you couldn’t really think of a word. It was purely of Seonghwa screaming over the phone and you screaming back. And panicking. Both of you definitely panicked.

But all in all, the bone broth was made and tasted fairly decent--a worry you had after fucking up so many times in making a simple recipe.

With a pale and dreary look upon his face, Seonghwa looked at you through the phone, narrowing his eyes on you pouring some of the hot mixture in to a bowl. “You’re actually gonna feed him that? Sure you’re trying to nurse him, or was this a master plan to kill him after that ordeal? Because if it’s the latter, then there were much easier ways of doing so.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, whispering prayers in your head that it would actually help San’s fever. “And goodbye.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Is that it? You’re gonna use me and then lea--”

You hand pulled away from the phone screen, after having pressed the red button. Chuckled to yourself with your comedic timing, completely forgetting the earful you’d get of the elder the next time you call him.

Gathering a tray, you placed the bowl of bone broth on top of it, as well as a packet of painkillers, a glass of water, and some turmeric tea; why San has it, you have no idea, since he seems to be a hot coffee-kind of person.

Would’ve added a flower, because you felt like being extra, but that would seem more like a romantic thing than a... well, whatever the hell you two were right now.

This situation wasn’t exactly common enough for it to be given a name.

Wafting away the thought, you grabbed the tray and walked quickly to the mobster’s bedroom. Didn’t need to worry about any spillage since you’ve had years of practice being quick and precise with movement.

Holding one hand beneath the tray (feeling a little heavy, but again, you’ve had practice), you used the other to open the door, finding San still swaddled in his blanket, sweating like a pig.

“Y/N...” he whimpered, an eye opening at the sound of you entering. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state was different to how he usually was--and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

“I’m right here, San,” you replied in a soft tone, brushing back his hair once more as soon as you placed the tray on the bedside-table beside you. “Brought you some food too. Can you sit up for me?”

Letting out soft whines, he tried to lift his body up, but was too weak and too caged in to get his back even a centimetre off the mattress. You saw the issue, and pulled the covers apart slightly so he could move a little more, both hands pulling gently at his shoulders so he could sit up properly.

Never had you seen someone this unwell from a simple fever. Sure, you’ve felt like shit before, but San’s condition was a little worrying. “Is there some private doctor I can call?”

“What,” he huffed, a smile etching onto his face as he looked into your eyes, “makes you think I have a private doctor?”

“Oh, I dunno, you’re a rich asshole?”

Chuckling, he let his head flop to the side, neck suddenly too weak to hold it up properly. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Annoying, but funny, but sarcastic, but beautiful.”

“Okay, do you wanna continue with that word vomit or are you gonna eat?” You cocked your brow, head tilting to match his posture. “Also, you’re not gonna flatter me by calling me beautiful. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

It had slightly upset San knowing that you had said ‘anymore’--upset him knowing that there were others complimenting what his. But he couldn’t blame them. You really were beautiful in his eyes, even if he hadn’t thought so when he initially laid eyes on you.

“Don’t wanna eat.”

Sighing, you fixed yourself and picked up the bowl, mixing it as you blew to cool it down a little. “You’re not well, you gotta.”

He looked at you with big wide eyes and a small pout--and you couldn’t help but think it was a little cute. “Don’t wanna... unless you feed me?”

Okay, maybe it was a little less cute.

You exhaled, still stirring. “If I do, then you’ll have it all?” He put his hand over his heart, nodding with a sincere look on his face. “Fine then.” You lifted a spoon full of the bone broth to his lips, which he look into his mouth promptly--eyes glued to yours as he did so.

San hummed earnestly. “It’s...actually pretty good.”

Eye twitching, you lightly pushed him. “Why? Did you expect it to be shit?”

“I mean, I heard faint screaming and what I assume was swearing, which could have only come from you because I let everyone have a day off for today. So, yes, forgive my assumption that it would murder me,” he chuckled, opening his mouth once more, in which you carefully put more broth in.

“Be happy that I’m doing this much for you.”

“Because you feel guilty for getting me ill?” 

“No, it was your fault for not taking a hot shower when we came back, like I told you to--and your immune system for being so shit.”

“Okay, first of all, I can’t help it if my immune system wants to act out. I usually don’t get this ill.” You sent him a ludicrous look, continuing to feed him. “What? I really don’t!”

“Tell that to the rain.”

“I-- nevermind. But the second thing is that I offered to take a shower, but you said no!”

“That’s because you wanted to shower with me. No way in hell I was gonna let that happen!”

“You have the shower room for it!”

″Yeah, and I've already passed on my grievances to you yesterday about that hell-room!”

“Well, at least with me with you, you don’t have to worry about--what did you call it? Oh yeah--’Casper the fuckin’ Perverted Ghost’.”

“I’d take a ghost over you any day.”

“You won’t be saying that in a year.”

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t be choosing Casper over you. After all, I’ll be spending time with him as well.”

San scoffed, slightly amused but annoyed at the same time. “Are you actually trying to get me jealous of something that doesn’t exist?”

“Who said Casper doesn’t exist?”

“‘Cause ghosts don’t exist.”

“Tell that to Casper. You’ll find him in my shower room.”

Amidst the conversation, neither of you had noticed how the bowl and cup was now empty, their contents now residing in San’s stomach. But when you did, you got up--ready to walk to the kitchen and put everything away--until his very warm hands wrapped around your elbow gently.

“Please don’t go. You can put all that stuff away later. Just... stay with me.”

Sighing, you decided to listen to him for once an put the tray down before tightening the covers around him again--making him whine. “Noooooo, I wanna hold you.”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?”

“I’m ill, stop taking my muddled brain so seriously.”

Your brow cocked up, amused while you looked over his flushed face. “So you’d be willing get me sick too?”

Another pout formed on his face. “Of course not,” he mumbled. “You know what, you’re right. You can go.”

He avoided looking at you, instead fixing his saddened gaze at the window. Your natural scepticism told you that he was just faking it, only putting on an act to get your attention and affection. Yet, for the first time in a while, doubt began to seep in.

Maybe... maybe you could give in. Just this once.

Sighing, you slipped off your slippers and lay down beside him, an arm and leg wrapping around his body to bring him closer to you. A stronger tint of red covered his face as he looked at you, flabbergasted, as he tried to wriggle out of your touch. “What are you doing, you’ll get sick--”

“My immune system is much stronger than yours, I’ll live. Besides, you look cosy,” you muttered, nestling your face into the soft blanket. Even his blanket smelled like a garden in the rain, despite the amount of sweat that’s probably seeped into it.

Truly, he did, and you couldn’t deny that you wanted to hug the human burrito.

San had, instead, found you cute, cheek squished against the fabric surrounding him. Let his mind wonder to the image of you pressed against him--without the covers coming between you two.

Again.

Would you look this peaceful, sleeping on his chest, on a regular day--he thought.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna get some rest?” San could feel your voice vibrating through the covers despite the thickness of it.

“Hard not to stare at you, ya know?” he relaxed himself, despite feeling like he was baking beneath the blanket, and let his head rest on the pillow, cheek pressed against your forehead.

“Goddamn, you’re hot. Did you take any medicine while I was cooking?”

“Oh, Hun, there’s no cure for sexiness,” he coughed, a smirk pulling at his lips from the joke he made.

Another sigh was pulled from your throat as you got up to look for any painkillers he could take. Sane began to whine once more, rolling over since he could barely had enough energy to move with his arms when he was this tired--a full belly of warm broth and tea not helping what so ever.

“No--wait. Come back...”

“You need painkillers.”

With a straight face, he stared deep into your eyes, slightly glossy and sparkling under the dim sunlight coming into the room. “But you’re my painkiller.”

“Yeah, I’m going to get you some meds,” you deadpanned, scooping up the tray to leave the grown-ass mafia boss whining and rolling around, throwing a tantrum.

After some hard thinking and remembering that Wooyoung had given you his number, you called him up as you stood in the doorway, looking at San’s calm state of sleeping.

“My dear sister,” you heard a voice finally say over the phone, “what requires my assistance?”

“...Wooyoung?”

“Yes, dear sister?”

“What in the world has possessed you call me your ‘dear sister’?”

“Because you’re gonna be my friend’s wife some day, so I need to get used to seeing you as my sister-from-another-mister.”

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you decided to not comment on his outlandish claims. “San’s not feeling well.”

“Is that why he sent us all away?” he laughed, somehow finding this situation amusing--since this is what his best friend tends to do; finds his weakened state as vulnerability, and if there was one thing San hated, it was feeling vulnerable.

But if he truly hated that, then why pursue this why you--when he know that it would force him to bring his guard down?

“I think so. No one was here when I came out of my room. Not the cooks or the maids or even the guards,” you said, taking another gander as if there might be someone roaming the halls to disprove your statement.

There wasn’t.

“Okay then. You want me to give you our private doctor’s number?”

Chuckling to yourself because you knew you were right (immediately confusing Wooyoung), you hummed, “yeah, that would be great.”

“O-Okay. Lemme text it to you. But do you need anything else? I know from experience San can get a little clingy when he’s not in his right mind,” he said, a boisterous giggle passing his lips.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You let your gaze brush over your captor’s figure. “Just send me the number and I’ll take it from there.”

“Okie dokie then, dear sister. I’ll leave you to deal with that enigma.”

“Alright, Wooyoung. See you tomorrow?”

“Call me ‘dear brother’, then maybe I’ll hang u--”

You shoved your phone into your back pocket after ending the call, thinking that it would take him a few minutes. Proving you wrong, the phone buzzes to life within the next ten seconds, Wooyoung sending you a couple of messages.

Wooyoung: Well that was a rude Wooyoung: No matter, I still love ya, dear sister Wooyoung: Probs should clarify that it’s platonic in case San sees it and gets all jelly Wooyoung: Anyway, here’s the number Wooyoung: XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N: Thanks, bro

Wooyoung: 🥺🥺 You called me ‘bro’

Smiling a little, you called the number--which had indeed taken you to a doctor’s clinic. After hearing of his exact temperature and other symptoms, the woman over the phone had concluded that it was as you first suspected--the common cold.

She told you to keep giving him painkillers and he should be fine within the week. Ending the call with a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, you left to get San more broth and medication, and hopefully you’d lay down with him again.

Which is exactly what you did for the rest of the day, opting to stay with him for the night too in order to make sure he really was okay. Thankfully, the worst of his fever had passed by the time morning came around and he was feeling much better.

You, however, were exhausted after looking after him, deep in your slumber as you shifted closer to San, who had broken free of his blanket prison and wrapped it around the two of you. The sunlight peeking through the window paled in comparison to the faint smile of glee San had adorned when he saw you.

Cheeked pressed up against his shoulder, and arm and a leg draped over his body like a koala clinging to a tree.

Just like he had thought the day before.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby​​​​ , @sparklychangbin​​​​ , @shawkneecaps​ If you wanna be tagged, feel free to ask!

[peculiarpatches]

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀'𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒  (𝗃𝗂𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

This imagine as one may guess, is based off of this song. 

This story includes oral, (female giving, female receiving, man giving and receiving) and a bunch of dirty talk. Also, prostitution but it’s only hinted at, it’s not actually written   out in full detail but it’s still there. I’m not sure what else to tag this as. Feedback is appreciated. I might also write a before, as well, depending if people like this one or not. 

Enjoy. x

- cierra. 

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

  Jim was leaned up against a wall made of bricks, a cigarette (like always) hung in between his lips, a cloud of grey hugging his body at each puff he exhaled from the end of his cancer stick.  The smoke hung in the air, shifting like ghosts in the breeze.   He took another deep breath, inhaling the poison within his system before puffing out the product, mouth slowly open as it slips past his mouth.    "You know, smoking is a huge turn off for a lot of women, right?"  A grin builds across his face, though he doesn't turn to the person the voice belongs to. Doesn't have to. He already knows who it is. "Doesn't seem to be a turn off for you, though." He said in a casual manner, a shrug of his shoulders as he dropped the cigarette down on the pavement below him and ended the last remaining light with a bit of pressure to his boot. 

He then turns, the smile on his face only growing bigger as he looks over at the woman who may or may not have captured his heart.   (Y/N) (L/N).   "Absolutely not." She laughed softly before making her way over to him, her manicured fingers finding their way to his work uniform, instantly unbuttoning the top of his collar and down until a small patch of chest hair is exposed. Jim shivers at the sudden exposure, the cold Indiana air hitting his skin and he sucks in on his bottom lip.   She smiles at his reaction, the look of seduction easy to spot on her facial features. 

 "Oh, Jim..." She purrs, her tongue darting out of her mouth  as she wets her lips. She turns her head, eyes meeting with his as the smirk blossoms across her face.  "Isn't this what got me in trouble that night ago? Whoring myself out? That's what you said, isn't it? A pretty young lady like me shouldn't be on the streets, selling her body for money. But when it's you, I'm giving myself to.... it's fine, no?"  Jim shook his head, rolling his eyes as he scoffs. "How many times do I need to say I'm sorry for that, darling?" He questions.  "Besides," He continued, his hands running down to grip her ass from behind, fingernails digging into the all too small skirt she had wrapped around her lower body. 

"I only said it because I was upset... You were off, fooling with other men instead of fooling off with me." He said in a matter of fact tone. (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up and Jim chuckles deeply, knowing how easily frustrated she gets when he talks dirty to her.  "Doesn't matter." (Y/N) replied with a soft hum. 

"I'm your slut, right, Daddy?"  His breath hitches in his throat and he hides back a moan as he nods, almost weakly.  "That's right, baby girl. You're all mine and nobody else's." He growls, hand slipping in between her skirt  as his fingers come within contact of her bottom, (Y/N)'s own breath hitching as she flutters her eyelids shut at the sensation; at his touch.

 "Jim, please." She whines, nearly melting into him.  "Fuck me. Fuck me like that day you found me in the alley."  "Oh? You mean the alley we're in right now?" He asked.  "Is this why you called me? This was your emergency, huh? Naughty whore you are, (Y/N)... You wanted me to pound that pretty pussy of yours, right here in the open? For all of Hawkins to see? You're such a minx." He laughed as he pushes her against the wall, earning a squeak in reply from his beautiful girl.   

"Tell me how you want me, baby. And Daddy'll be more than happy to give you what you want." Her eyes were still fluttered shut but her mouth was open, tongue and throat on full display. Jim didn't need to ask any question he already knew the answer to. "On your knees then."    Nodding rapidly, (Y/N) falls to her knees, eyes finally popping open when she hears Jim unzipping his pants.  She, like he had done earlier, bites back a moan.   "Such a good cock slut..." He says in 'awe'.    "Always. Only for you."  "That's right. Only for me." He echoes her words before pressing the tip of his cock at the base of her tongue before fully sliding his cock down her throat with no issue at all.   Before, she had gagged at just the  tip, eyes pooled with water as  she choked as he tried to fuck her throat.   Now, having have done this for a few times, (Y/N) was a lot better at controlling her gag reflex and she didn't choke nearly as much as she did when she had first given him a blowjob.

   "Fuck...." He grunts, feeling the warmth of her mouth wrap around his cock. Her mouth was like Heaven. Expect, what they were doing was going to send them to Hell. They were far from being angels, far from entering the gates of Heaven.   Her tongue glides up and down his shaft, her hand reaching up to stroke his genitals as she bobs her head up and down, saliva starting to spill past her mouth, running down her chin. It was a beautiful sight.    "Such a good girl. You love feeling that cock down your throat, don't you, baby?"  All she could do was nod as Jim pushed his cock further down her mouth.  (Y/N) gagged a little and the tears were starting to form in the corner of her eyes but she, like she always did, took it like the good girl she was.   Her mouth was warm and wet and he could feel the familiar heat start to build  as she fucked his cock with her mouth.  "Easy, you'll make me cum. And I want to cum inside you." He groaned as he gripped her head, fingers curling around her hair as he pushes her off. Jutting out her bottom lip in a pout, she huffs, "I was enjoying myself."  "As was I. However, I want a taste of you on my tongue. So, be a dear and open those legs up for me." Giggling, (Y/N) spreads her legs apart and Jim couldn't hold the moan this time.  She was clean shaven and she was already slick with arousal. Oh, did he mention, (Y/N) wasn't wearing anything underneath, either? That's a very important detail.  "Take a picture, it'll last longer." She joked.  "Already got plenty of Polaroid pictures, darling. Jerk myself to photos of you every night," He announced, shooting her a wink before he sunk to his knees. Bending forward, he captures her clit with his tongue, causing  an excited squeal to slip past (Y/N)'s lips as she mewls out his name. "Oh, Jim..."  He  flicks her bud a few times before he moves his head further  down to wrap his lips around it - he sucks softly, just the way he knows that she loves.  Above him, he hears a soft thud. 

  He's quick to pull away, worried he had done something or she had somehow hurt herself. Instead, he finds (Y/N) with a complete blissed out look on her face; bottom lip dragged between her teeth, head thrown back, eyes closed shut. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop, Hopper."  "Look at me. Open your eyes and say that." Naturally, (Y/N) does as she is told. She repeats her sentence, this time  in a frustrated tone.  "Good girl." Like before, he falls back down and buries his face in between her thighs.   "Hopper... Jim... Daddy, I'm close." She announces in a breathy tone.  Jim said nothing, only continued his actions. He  wanted nothing more than to make her legs wither and shake. Make  her voice tremble as she moaned out his name and only his name. Jim wanted to be the only man to pleasure her. He wanted her, not just for sexual favors but wanted her as a person. Wanted her to be his. "Daddy, daddy, yes, yes, oh fuck, right there, I'm coming!"  As she yells these words, his tongue darts back down to (Y/N)'s clit again. He had been literally fucking her cunt with his tongue for more than a few minutes now: Simply,  sliding the edge of his tongue back and forth, tasting what he guessed was the aftermath of her orgasm.  His jaw was beginning to ache, as were his knees in this position,  but he didn't care. He was too focused on pleasing her; making her happy. (And horny.) Jim pulls away, his chin coated with her juices. (Not that he was complaining.)   She looked completely out of it. Her face appeared flush, her chest rose up and down at a rapid rate as she tried to bring her breathing back to a normal rate.   Her pupils were wide and blown, as if she had just got done drinking and the liquor was starting to hit. Jim could use a drink right now, if he was being honest.  "I want more." She said.  "Huh?" "I know you're old but.... can't be that old to go deaf, can you? I said, I want more. I want you, Jim. Please.... As much as I love your cock in my throat and your mouth on my pussy, I want your cock in my pussy."  "I don't know, sweetheart...."  "Please? Please, Daddy? I've been a good girl, haven't I? I'm clean, too, promise. I'll even show you my results if need to be. I want you. I want you deep in me. Wanna feel you even when you're pulling out. Want to feel you tomorrow and the day after. Want to feel you deep inside me, inside my stomach. Want to see that cock in my belly, bulging out. God only knows it will. Give it to me, Jim. Please...." "Not here." He said finally. "You deserve a place somewhere warm and comfortable." "So.... your car?" (Y/N) asks with a laugh. Jim shakes his head. "No, I can take you back to my place. I want to take you back to my place." He confesses.  "Oh." She says, surprised. "I'd love that."  "Me, too." "Well, let's get going then! I want you and I want you bad." *~*  As soon as the car is pulled up to his cabin, and as soon as they step out of his vehicle,  their hands are both all over each other as well as their lips within only a few seconds. "Can't tell you how badly I've wanted this." (Y/N) announces.  "Fuck.... me, too, baby." Jim agrees. He fishes for his  keys out of the back of his pocket before shoving them in the front door once he finds them.  Twisting it to the side, he unlocks it with ease before he's bending forward and lifting (Y/N) in his arms, carrying her inside.  He shuts the door behind him with his foot and carries her over to the couch. As soon as she is on the cushions, she's undressing herself. No time to kill, so it would seem. Jim is quick to follow, kicking his pants aside and slipping out of his shirt and jacket.  "Give it to me, Jim Hopper. Been thinking about this ever since the night I first met you."  "Is that so?" He asks, eyebrow raised and a smirk across his face as she confesses that sentence.  He walks over to the couch, cock on full display and as hard as a rock.  He hovers above her, lying her legs on the opposite end as he slowly teases her entrance with the tip of his cock.  

"Just fuck me!" She screams in agony. If someone were to have been walking in the woods, they would’ve assumed someone was screaming bloody murder. In reality, it was just a woman, begging to be fucked like there was no tomorrow. 

  "Fuck me," She begs again. "Hopper, please-" "As you wish." He whispers, cutting her off  as he slides in between her folds, a gasp leaving his lips at the tightness that surrounds him. "Oh, (Y/N).... you're so tight." He groans as he rocks back and forth,  pushing his cock further in her walls, slowly but surely, pushing every inch of him inside her. "Daddy, fuck...."  "I can stop-" "No, please, no.... Go. It's okay. I'm a good girl, right? Go on. Fuck me. I can handle it. I can handle a little pain.."   (Y/N)'s voice is as quiet as a church mouse. Her eyes, like earlier, are drifting close, half open, half closed. Her nipples are hard too, Jim notices, therefore he pinches her nub with his index finger and thumb, earning a whine to slip past her lips. 

"That's right. You're right. I know how much you love the pain," He grunts. "Maybe, next time, I can put my cuffs on you and fuck you in the back of my police car. Wanted to fuck you in the backseat of it when I arrested you that night." He admitted. "You should've but that night ended good, regardless." She said, biting her lower lip as his fingers continue to pinch, pull and tug on her nipples.  "Who would've guessed that night would lead up to all these  secret little rendezvouses?" She asked with a giggle before the giggle is quick to be replaced by a high pitched moan, Jim hitting a certain spot — that special spot.  "Oh, I'm going-" "Me, too." "Want to do it together?" She asks, breathless, her walls tightening around him as her legs wrap around his waist as she begins to thrust down against his cock, ready to feel him explode within her, as she will with him.  "Yes, fuck, yes baby girl." The two are silent for a moment as they rock out their highs together then- "Jim- fuck, Jim, I love you, oh fuck..." (Y/N) throws her head back as she climaxes with her mouth dropped open and body nearly levitating off of the couch. (She had never had an orgasm that good before where she felt like she was floating.)  "I love you, too, (Y/N).. Fuck- I'm coming." Jim groans before he's coming inside, exploding deep within her walls. With a hiss, he pulls out and falls back by the end of her feet, trying to attempt to catch his breath.  "Was that okay?" He asked, breathing heavy.  "More than okay." (Y/N) whispered back. "Jim?"  "Yes, baby?" He asks, looking over at her with a look of confusion on his face. "Was it the heat of the moment or did you mean it?" She asked, sitting up as slowly as she can. (She was right.... even when he wasn't inside her, she could feel the phantom feeling of his cock deep within her still.)  "What? I love you? Me, saying that?" He laughed softly as he crawled back above her, pressing a kiss - their first one - to her lips. "I meant it. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't."  "I love you, too." "And don't worry, I know.... it's scary. Love, that is..... but don't worry. Nothing's going to hurt you, baby. As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine." (Y/N) grinned from ear to ear before placing her hand back behind his head and crashing their lips together again.  One kiss became two which became three and so on and so on. 

[ushidoux]

Birthday Boy - Kuroo x Reader

Summary: Office man Kuroo wants the usual for his birthday. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader, public sex, office relationships

A/N: Kuroo annoys me but I can see the appeal. Happy birthday Kuroo!

---

You typed the last sentence of your business proposal for Friday, taking an extra bit of satisfaction in typing the last period before hitting the save button, then took a deep breath before leaning back in your chair. With one additional thing checked off your list for today, you made a quick check at the clock next to you to check how much longer you had until you could leave this place and move on with your life.

20 minutes left. You could do this.

“Didn’t you forget something today?”

Almost a bit startled, you looked up to see the company’s vice president, Tetsuro Kuroo, grinning down at you slyly, chin perched over the edge of the cubicle. You hated that he was tall enough to do that despite the fact that the cubicle walls were higher than typical - it felt like he had special access to you somehow.

You smiled politely, even though you and he both knew you couldn’t exactly stand him - in fact, you had made it pretty clear a couple months ago that you thought he was somewhat of a prick in the corner of an office party, and miraculously had kept your job (sleepless nights were finally behind you and you would never get so drunk at a company event again).

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Tetsuro?” You said with mock extreme professionalism, as you printed out your proposal and rose to get to the noisy printer located outside of your small office space.

He leaned against the wall, smiling at you as you passed him.

“It’s my birthday, of course,” he said, now following you leisurely into the copy room, and you could feel the hairs on your neck stand on end as he stepped just outside of sexual harassment distance. “Where’s my present?”

You pulled your stack of papers out of the printer, shrugging off the irritation building inside you and went to focus on stapling copies of your day’s work together.

“Happy birthday,” you offered passively.

He stood beside you, grabbing another stapler to help you with your task uninvited.

“Why thank you, Ms. ___. I was waiting to hear good wishes from you. It was all I waited for all day, in fact,” he said, with a furtive glance at you that you pretended not to see.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need help,” you insisted. Before you could reach over, he nudged you playfully with his hip, blocking you out of his way. 

“You never need anything, Mrs. Independent,” Kuroo teased with a laugh, “but don’t worry, I got you.”

Before you could protest and snatch the sheets of his hand, he raised the sheets of paper higher than you could reach, forcing you to have to jump once or twice, stopping only once you were in a flustered mess, embarrassed by the fact that you were actually jumping in a pair of heels and a skirt in public.

“You are so fucking annoying! Do you know that?” You huffed finally in frustration, now standing completely still despite seething with annoyance. “Just go home, don’t you have someone new on your “hit and quit” list anyway?!”

Before the words left your mouth, you regretted them ever coming out and you whispered a short “Shit” under your breath as Kuroo’s eyes grew wide and devilish. You’d triggered him in just the right and wrong way. You glanced quickly at the door to ensure no one was outside to see what had just happened and what was about to happen, then considered making a quick run for it because yes, you had just given this sexy asshole ammunition and yes, he was absolutely going to lose it.

As expected, Kuroo blocked your way out of the room with quick side steps to the left and to the right, making your heart start to pound in your chest, and finally after a quick look outside as well to clear the surroundings, he held you close in his arms.

“Oh, it looks like someone’s been a bit jealous…,” he crooned, rocking you back and forth softly first before as he released you and backed into the open door, quickly and smoothly locking the door behind him. “So jealous, you won’t even wish me a happy birthday, my little bunny?”

Fuck.

“Kuroo, don’t,” you whispered under your breath, but he was already walking towards you, eagerly loosening his tie, and by all that was good, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted even if it was against your better judgement.

He started by backing you into the wall by the copy-printer, planting a soft kiss on your lips, then pecking down your jawline to your bosom, his hands steadying themselves on your hips hugged by the classic but quite form-fitting pencil skirt you had decided on wearing that morning.

“Don’t what?” He breathed into the crook of your neck, as slender fingers started to unbutton your blouse, giving him access to the soft pillows of your breasts and pert nipples.

“W-we’re in public… not... not here.”  You were already starting to forget your protests as his lips closed around a mound sending heat rushing to your center.

“It seems like you need reassurance,” he reasoned. “Let’s think of it as a sort of quality assurance project, what do you think?”

With that, more fingers made their way down the hem of your skirt, pulling then dragging them down so that he could press a digit right through to your pussy now damp and soaking your undies. 

“I don’t know why you keep wearing these tight ass skirts in the office, how the fuck are we supposed to get a quick fix during work breaks?”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you retorted, pushing him off of you as you struggled to shimmy the skirt off quickly yourself.

“I mean, you’re really bad at playing this pretend game. Like my dad owns this company, why do you think it would be a problem if everyone else found out we were fucking?” Kuroo added, as he unbuckled his pants and rolled down his dress pants for you. You took a look at his large member as it popped out from the waistband of his pants, but when you saw his smirk at your hungry expression, you rolled your eyes before bending over the printer for him. 

“You talk so fucking much, Kuroo.”

“Wow! Cursing at me? On my birthday?” He protested with mock offense, but instead retaliated with getting a hard grip on your hair with one hand to pull you back towards him.

“Kuroo!”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a full hour of head, bunny!” He quipped, before breaching your entrance in one fluid movement. “Oh my goodness, it really is my lucky day, you really are just dripping for me.”

At this point, you should have been wondering what exactly had gotten you involved with this obnoxious man, but when he started a quick pace, thrusting you forward back and forth while you steadied yourself on the poor abused office printer, your tsundere act started to crumble. 

As he expected.

The room filled with the sloppy noises of cock entering cunt, over and over and over again, soft whines, suppressed grunts and moans, and the whir of buttons inadvertently being pressed. Despite Kuroo’s abrasive behavior towards you in the office, he could manage to be tender when he railed you, offering a soft hand to cover your mouth as you struggled to keep quiet and loosening his grip on your hair in favor of running his hand through it tenderly. 

As your walls continued to clench and tighten around him, milking him of all he was worth, his moans started to get more uneven, and he breathed deeply before laughing softly, leaning in you.

“You’re awfully quiet, babe,” he teased, his voice more tender this time.

So are you, you wanted to say, but then your coil snapped, and sensing this, his hand clamped tighter over your mouth as he pounded you even harder and you wanted to scream.

Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo…

Your orgasm was freefall, and soon he fell with you holding you all the while, his hand still clamped over your mouth and his other hand now pressing against you to hold your convulsing body still, you always came so violently when you were with him, so much a firecracker you were.

When the high finally faded, you both redressed in satisfied silence, staring at each other with renewed longing, only to be startled by hard raps on the door. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at each other then at the door.

Had you finally been too loud?

“There’s cake for whoever’s in there for VP’s birthday,” you could hear one of your coworkers finally say with exasperation. “I don’t know why you always use that room for so long, you can work in your cubicle, ___.”

Kuroo stifled a laugh as haughty footsteps headed away from the door, before kissing you on the forehead.

“Do you wanna get some of VP’s birthday cake or have you already had enough of VP?”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not So Golden Opportunity (BAON)

Summary:  Usually Stretch likes getting packages in the mail, but there is always room for an exception.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

The knock on the front door wasn’t much of a surprise, not when it came at delivery o’clock. Stretch always had packages coming in, everything from equipment for the lab to a new t-shirt that declared he was a ‘Karaoke King’, there was always something for their delivery person to drop off. At any given time, there was enough cardboard stored in their garage waiting to get dropped off at recycle to make one heck of a box fort, and that was on his list to do with the neighborhood kiddos one of these weekends.

So, the knock on the door? Not a surprise. What they were delivering on the other hand—

“uh, wow, thanks, marty,” Stretch said, a little dubiously. Marty let out an agreeable honk and meandered their way back to their little mail truck, leaving Stretch standing there with an enormous armful of flowers from an unknown source. Couldn’t be from Edge. Sure, he’d given flowers a few times, but Edge was more of an in-person sort of guy when it came to presents.

Welp, there was only one way to find out, wasn’t there. Time to get his Velma on and look for some clues.

Stretch carried the massive thing inside and plunked it down on the coffee table to give it a closer look. It was actually a very nice floral arrangement, even Stretch could see that and he didn’t know shit about flowers or décor. Tiny sprays of white, bell-like blooms and ferny green things surrounding several huge blooms of golden flowers, the likes of which Stretch hadn’t seen in years, not since they were Underground.

Hm. Golden flowers.

The card had Edge’s name on it, but Stretch didn’t bother sneaking a peek. Mystery solves, there was only one person who would’ve had this delivered to their door and he probably made it with his own fuzzy hands. The real question was why that asshole was having flowers sent to his husband, thank you, and the only way to find out if he needed to start making plans to yank out hunks of fur with his bare hands was to ask, with the minimum of simmering jealousy possible.

“babe?” Stretch called. Edge was in the kitchen, making preparations for their new cupboards to be installed next week. “hey, c’mere a minute!”

He’d expected Edge to be pleased, he did like his flowers, heck, maybe even excited in that adorably subdued way he had, and much as Stretch could have done without any surprise packages from Ass-gore in their house, eh, he’d deal with it if they made Edge happy.

The last thing he anticipated was for Edge to stop cold halfway out the kitchen door, the fleeting expression of disgust crossing his face quickly shifting to blankness. Edge wasn’t exactly the most emotive guy out there, but Stretch was pretty good at reading his facial version of charades and right now there wasn’t so much as a twitch of the eye socket or a curl of his mouth as he said, low, “Please put that in the garage.”

“the garage?” Stretch repeated doubtfully. He looked down at the extravagant display of floral dominance in his hands and wondered if he’d heard that right. “you sure?

“Yes, because someone might notice if you put it right into the trash.” That blankness cracked, a little, enough for Edge to snap out, “Just get it out of the damn house!”

Yeah, okay, got that message loud and clear, especially since Edge was starting to look a little glowy around the hands, like he was considering a little impromptu, and violent, floral rearranging. Stretch grabbed up the offending bouquet before it could end up as target practice and shortcutted out into the garage.

Like the rest of the house, it was neat as a pin, no oil stains on this concrete floor and all the tools neatly put away on the pegboard. In the back corner was the motorcycle, shrouded in drop cloths and waiting for Edge to be able to take it out for a spin again. Didn’t seem like putting the flowers anywhere special was part of today’s theme, so Stretch stuffed the thing into the furthest spot, away from Edge’s car so he wouldn’t have to see it when he came out on his way to work tomorrow.

Job successfully achieved, Stretch dusted off his hands and teleported back inside. Edge was already gone from the living room, no surprise there, but he hadn’t gone back to the kitchen. A quick, not-at-all-frantic search found him sitting out on the front porch and that wasn’t really a surprise, either. But the cigarette in his hand? Now that blew past surprise all the way into flabbergasted shock. Far as Stretch knew, Edge hadn’t bummed a smoke in months, his general attitude towards smoking was distaste with extreme prejudice. It took a helluva lot for him to give into the urge for a quick fix to a nicotine craving. Whatever his issues were with the flowers, whether it was the gift or the person who sent them, they were bad.

“babe?” Stretch asked, cautiously, still hovering half in the house. As worried as he was, he wouldn’t push, ready to leave if Edge wanted to be alone.

Edge only shifted the cigarette to his other hand and patted the concrete next to him in silent invitation. A little relieved, Stretch came out and sat down. He dug his own cigarette out of the crumpled pack and the two of them sat hip to hip, quietly smoking. Overhead, the sky was endless sea of deep blue broken only by the occasional streak of a puffy cloud. A nice day, too nice for the unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air, but Stretch didn’t ask them. Edge would talk when he was ready and if he never was, welp, that was fine, too. Edge wasn’t the only one who could be supportive, Stretch was more than willing to take his turn under the weight.

It wasn’t until Edge tamped out his cigarette in the ashtray Stretch kept out on the porch that he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Edge said finally. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“i think i’ll live, babe,” Stretch replied, dryly, “the wounds were superficial.” He gave Edge a gentle nudge in the side with his elbow. “you okay?”

Yeah, okay, that wasn’t pushing, thanks. Besides, it was a stupid question, because the answer was obviously going to be a ‘yes, fine’ and that’d be it.

Except that he didn’t get the obvious answer he expected.

“Not right now,” Edge said. His sockets were half-closed and instead of their yard, he seemed to be looking miles away. “I will be.” They sat in silence for a while longer, Stretch watching people walking by, waving as required and leaving Edge to his thoughts. He was lighting a second cigarette when Edge finally spoke again, softly. “Golden flowers.” The faint hitch in his voice could’ve meant nothing, if the person he was sitting with didn’t know him so well. “I haven’t seen real golden flowers in years.”

Stretch considered that. “i’m taking it they weren’t sorely missed.”

“Hm?” Crimson eye lights briefly flicked his way. “No, not at all. I hate the blasted things.”

Stretch only took a long drag and exhaled slowly, blowing a smoke ring up into that blue, blue sky. He didn’t ask or urge him to talk, simply being there if he chose to. And Edge did, slowly, as if choosing every word with care. “The only place in Underfell where golden flowers grew was the king’s chamber in New Home. My memories of that place are…not pleasant.”

Not pleasant. Yeah, like lava is a wee bit warmish or the Titanic sprung a little leak. Indisputable truths: water is wet, the sky is blue, grass is green, and any meeting with the king of all Monsters in Underfell was not pleasant.

The explanation made perfect sense, really; if Stretch’d had a minute to actually think about it instead of dividing his attention between ditching the flowers and then finding his wayward husband, he probably would have figured it out on his own. Perfect sense, yep, and that was why Stretch was torn between temptations. First, to grab Edge and hold him close, to keep him there in his arms and do whatever it took to chase away any of the mental ghosts that were creeping in, to be the protector for one damn time. And then there was the equal temptation to take that little flower arrangement on back to the source and see if he could find any handy place to stick it, because right now, he was ready to cram it so far up someone’s fuzzy buns that they’d need their dentist to help get it loose.

But Edge wouldn’t appreciate either of those options. All Stretch could do here was sit here, be here, and hope it was enough.

Stretch was so lost in his thoughts that he startled at the touch of a gloved hand as it settled gently over his bare one, sharp fingertips blunted by fabric lightly stroking his own. “He didn’t know, love. He mentioned to me in passing that he’d started working on floral arrangements again for the summer and that he’d be sending them out to Embassy employees, and I completely forgot.”

Trust Edge to know exactly what direction his thoughts were headed, right off the grid and into a little righteous revenge. Didn’t help that the things Stretch wanted to say to that excuse weren’t exactly helpful. Things like, Asgore should have been able to guess, homey reminders were only good for people who actually liked their past home, and maybe a reminder to pay some fucking attention to anything besides his own personal popularity contest was in order. Or how about suggestion for a visit to emphasis the whole ‘we don’t send my husband any gifts without pre-approval, asshole’.

None of those options were actually useful and either might actually get him banned from the Embassy this time, so Stretch kept ‘em to himself and only said, “i know.”

Then he let out a squawk as that gentle touch on his hand turned into a firm grip around his wrist and he was abruptly yanked over into Edge’s lap. He barely managed to put out his cigarette before it landed anywhere unpleasant. It took a little creative, and occasionally blatant, wriggling to get situated but in the end, he was settled across Edge’s femurs and snuggled in. His own hands were perfectly G-rated, Edge’s only slightly less so but it wasn’t like anyone on the street could see the hand he’d slipped under Stretch’s sweatshirt and settled over his sternum, right where his soul would manifest if he summoned it. Neither of them did, not yet, not out here in front of the broad daylight and the neighbors. The barest suggestion was enough for right now.

“I’m all right,” Edge murmured, and the warmth of his breath against the curve of his jaw was a tempting distraction. But Stretch wasn’t gonna forget to hand over a carefully selected piece of his mind to Asgore the next time he saw him.

Next time fuzzy ass wanted to send a present, he could stick with a gift card.

-finis