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badboyjuyeon · 4 years ago

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me plus you

Pairing: Eric x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You have to tutor Eric in calculus, but you’re struggling in calculus and Eric doesn’t actually need help.

This was not happening. You rubbed your eyes again as if that was going to change the 0/100 that you received from missing your latest calculus quiz. It didn’t matter how many A’s you got in your past quizzes, a zero would definitely damage your grade. You shoved the test in your bag and made your way towards the teacher’s desk.

“I missed yesterday’s class so I had no idea that I missed this quiz. Is there any way that I can make this up?” You asked your teacher, hoping that she might spare some pity and excuse this quiz. This was out of character for a straight-A student like yourself and you knew that she had a soft spot towards you.

“Unfortunately, it was a unit quiz and you missed it. If you read the syllabus, it explicitly states that there are no make-up opportunities...” She began in a stern voice which eventually turned softer when she noticed the panicked look on your face. “...But knowing how you have always done well in this class, I would be willing to offer extra credit if you join the tutoring center.”

“Consider it done!” You gave your best fake smile as you tried not to think of all the free time you were about to lose. It was your fault, after all, for sleeping in on the day you knew you would have the quiz. Maybe you turned off your alarm because you were struggling in the last few classes and scared to receive a failing grade. Maybe you closed your eyes for “five more minutes” because you didn’t know how to ask for help since you’ve never needed to before.

As you turned to leave, you noticed Eric Sohn push his way from the back of the classroom. He avoided eye contact with the teacher as if that would make him invisible.

“Eric I would like to meet with you.” Your teacher called out to him as he had one foot out of the doorway.

“Aww man, I was so close to escaping.” He muttered under his breath. You bit back a smile at his comment and watched him step back into the classroom. You brushed past him as you left to go sign up for the tutoring center. Eric envied you for being able to walk free, while he was going to be stuck getting yelled at.

“Eric, you’ve been failing all of the recent quizzes. I spoke with your coach and we agreed that you can’t play on the team unless your grades improve.” She shook her head in disappointment.

Eric could not believe what he was hearing. All his practice would have gone towards nothing. He could feel his dreams of becoming a professional baseball player slip away, all because of this one stupid class. “I promise I’ll do better on the next one, just please let me stay on the team.”

Your teacher sighed, “You said that the last time. You still haven’t taken up my recommendation of going to the tutoring center. Another peer might be able to help you better. If your next few grades improve after tutoring, then we’ll talk.”

Eric headed towards the library during his lunch period, which he never would have done under any other circumstance. He preferred to be outside playing basketball with his friends than being cooped up in the library. After signing his name, he sat down on an empty table and waited to be assigned to a tutor. When he tried to look for another familiar name on the tutor list, he noticed yours scribbled neatly with your perfect font-like handwriting. You’ve probably never failed a quiz in your life, let alone the past few quizzes. Eric groaned. How did he let himself slip up in this class? He had a pretty high GPA, but this class was dragging it down from its highest potential.

He flipped through the notebook he dedicated to calculus and was met with empty pages. If only he didn’t stay up late studying for his other classes, he would have been able to pay attention during this class. But resting his eyes always seemed like a much better option.

“Eric? Hi, I’ll be your new calc tutor.” Eric looked up to see you pull out the seat across from him. He let out a sigh of relief because you were not a complete stranger and you always got the highest grades. He would be back on the team in no time. He shot you a smile and his eyes formed crescent moons.

You returned his smile but it was only momentary, and it left as quickly as it came. “Can I tell you a secret?” You fidgeted with your fingers.

Eric was unsure of what to make of your sudden question. He nodded his head to encourage you to continue.

“I have no idea what’s going on in class.” You admitted to him, though this was not something you told anyone else.

Eric let out a laugh, you had to be joking. “Don’t you need an A in this class to be a tutor?”

“Yeah, I just always get my work done on time. My grade doesn’t reflect my understanding of the material but how well I can cheat on all of my assignments.” Upon seeing his confused face, you chose to elaborate. “I usually use photomath, that’s the only way I’ve been passing.”

Eric’s mouth parted in shock. Why didn’t he think of using that app himself? He also couldn’t believe that you were struggling in that class. “Then I’m not crazy, she just really can’t teach. That’s why I haven’t been understanding anything.”

“It’s not you, it’s her.” You assured him. “But can I still ‘tutor’ you because that would be the only way to make up for my last quiz?” You hoped that your desperation wasn’t too obvious.

Eric studied your face, he never had any chance to talk to you this long. Your features were tainted with stress. He could tell that your grades mattered and that he was the only person that could help you. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time outside of class with you, it’s not like he had baseball practice to take away his free time.

“Sure, I’m going to need these lessons to explain why I’m suddenly going to do amazing in this class after I start using photomath.”

Your face lit up when you heard him accept and it was enough to ensure that he made the right choice.

“How bad did you do on the last quiz?” Eric still couldn’t believe that you were not the nerd that he thought you were. Teachers always used your work for examples of model work and that was the only impression he had of you prior to this tutor session.

“I got a 0 because I missed class that day.” You looked away in embarrassment. The bright red 0 was still easily visible on your crumpled-up test.

Eric placed his test marked with 65/100 next to yours. “Well I didn’t pass even though I was in class, so we can try to work on it together.”

You flipped to the chapter that the quiz was on and turned the textbook sideways so that he could also see. The library was mainly empty save for you two because the weather was nice and everyone would much rather go outside for lunch. Your table was positioned right near the window, and Eric had the perfect view of all of his friends playing baseball on the school field. He could have been there if he didn’t slack off this bad.

No matter how many times you read the page, you still couldn’t quite get the concept down. No other class had you stuck like this one. While you were stuck rereading, Eric started attempting the first problem on his quiz. He finished in a matter of seconds and you took out photomath, a calculator app that solves literally everything, to check if it’s the same answer.

You couldn’t hide the look of shock on your face when the answer on your screen matched the one on his paper. “Eric I didn’t know that you were a genius. You have to teach me how to do this.”

Eric’s face also matched yours as he was also surprised at himself. He never even thought to attempt the problems before.

“I don’t really know what I did.” He confessed but tried to walk you through his thought process. Hearing him explain the steps allowed you to think of the problem in an entirely different way and it was the only thing you needed to understand how to solve it. Your face still expressed the initial shock, but now you felt more impressed than surprised.

Eric laughed at the irony, here he was tutoring you instead of the other way around. “I’ll have you know that just because I’m a sports guy doesn’t mean that I’m an airhead.”

“And having A’s doesn’t exactly mean that I’m a nerd. I knew you weren’t an airhead, but sleeping during class didn’t exactly make you look the smartest.” You teased him, before asking him the real question that was plaguing your mind. “You picked it up so quickly, why did you fail the last few quizzes?”

He switched his gaze from the paper to look straight into your eyes. “Honestly, I didn’t have any motivation to actually do the quizzes. I thought that I was screwed since I kept sleeping during class. And I have to sacrifice some classes to do better in the rest.” He answered, before moving on to the next problem.

With him facing towards the paper, you took note of his perfect side profile. His eyebrows were furrowed as he thought about how to solve the question. Wow, his jawline was sharp and you were getting sidetracked.

Using his method, you were able to breeze through the problems. You were the type of student to follow the book, word for word, while Eric was the opposite. He was carefree and just did what he felt like, and it worked. You would’ve never thought to experiment like he did but it was exactly what you needed to do.

“Wait I don’t get how to do these last few problems.” He interrupted you from your thoughts and you leaned closer to get a better view of the problem. You checked the steps to solve the problem from photomath and figured out how to solve it.

While you were explaining the problem to him, Eric suddenly became aware of the short proximity between the two of you. His eyes traced your features and they subconsciously drifted towards your lips. He wondered whether they felt as soft as they looked, in a totally platonic way, of course. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“That’s why you use this- Eric? Were you even listening?” You turned to face him after he stopped being responsive. Eric felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He quickly scanned the paper and pretended that he was paying attention all along. “Yeah I was listening, I understand it.”

You spent the rest of the period working together to get through the quiz. You two were in your own world and you wouldn’t have noticed how much time went by if the library didn’t become loud, signaling the end of the period, as students transitioned between classes. The period never felt this short.

“We are quite the team,” Eric said as you packed up your things.

“Surprisingly, we are. Let’s meet up again at the same time next week.” You waved at him and rushed to get to your next class.

“See you in class.” Eric watched as you left the library and looked forward to the next time he would see you.

Upon entering calculus class the next day, Eric searched for your face. He found you sitting in your usual seat near the window. Your head was down on the desk, unaware that he was approaching you.

“Is this seat taken?” You lifted your head to see Eric gesturing to the seat next to you. You shook your head, confused as to why he decided to sit next to you instead of the back of the classroom.

You didn’t have to worry about saving a seat for a friend because calculus was the one class that you didn’t share with any friends. You didn’t realize it until now but none of the boys you saw Eric hang out with were in this class either. At least you two would have each other now.

“Isn’t it easier to sleep in the back of the classroom?” You questioned.

“It is, but it's easier to cheat- I mean learn next to you.” He said with a cheeky grin.

Your teacher walked in, cutting off your small talk.

You took out your calculus textbook and notebook while you waited for the teacher to begin. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eric scribble something on the last page of his notebook. When the teacher turned around to write on the chalkboard, he slid his notebook over to you and tapped you.

i forgot my textbook in my locker, can i look over on yours?

You pushed your textbook towards him and positioned it in between you two. He mouthed a quick “thanks.”

Your teacher began explaining the new concept and you almost forgot about Eric’s presence next to you as you copied down everything that was on the board.

“Wait, is that a four or a nine?” You whispered, trying to decipher the messy handwriting. When you heard no response from Eric, you turned to look at him for the first time since class had started. Eric’s head was resting on the palm of his hand and his eyes were closed shut. He did not just leave you to fend for yourself. You nudged his hand and his head fell onto the desk with a loud thud.

Your teacher briefly turned around to call out whoever was interrupting her lesson but you resumed writing and Eric pretended to read the textbook page extremely closely. After she faced the board again, Eric raised his eyebrows at you, as if to ask why you disrupted his sleep. Not wanting to draw attention again, you passed him a note.

pay attention if you want the teacher to like you, trust me it works.

easier said than done, teacher’s pet.

Eric waited for you to read his note before he stuck his tongue out at you.

You were going to deny being the teacher’s pet when you were interrupted by Hyunjae, who sat on your other side. “Can you help me with number 1?”

“Uh sure.” You responded, despite wanting to work with Eric. You glanced back at Eric, but he began working on the new problem set by himself.

Though Eric’s eyes were focused on the paper in front of him, his ears couldn’t help but listen to your conversation with Hyunjae.

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you so much. Can I pay you back with bubble tea after school?” Hyunjae gave you a flirtatious smile.

Eric’s grip on his pen tightened. He convinced himself that he was only annoyed because he didn’t know how to solve the problem.

“I would never say no to free bubble tea.” You checked to see if Eric was listening from your peripheral vision once again, but he seemed to be disinterested. You weren’t sure why you kept looking back at Eric, maybe you wanted to see if he would object. Or maybe you wanted him to object. But he made no such move to stop you.

Hyunjae beamed. “Great, let’s meet up after class. And maybe we can study for the next test together?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Were you just trying to bribe me with bubble tea?”

Eric’s head was facing downwards as he tried to hide his feelings of betrayal. The nerve Hyunjae had to steal his study partner.

“And if I was?” Hyunjae challenged.

“That was a smart way to bribe me, you might not even need to study with how smart you are.” You answered.

Eric slammed his pen down, causing you and Hyunjae to look at him.

“Oops, it slipped.” He blurted, feeling satisfied because he interrupted Hyunjae.

The bell rang and you rushed to copy down the homework into your planner.

“Do you want to work on the homework together?” Eric suggested while packing up his things. “I didn’t know how to do the third set of problems.” He added in, hoping that it would convince you to work together.

“I don’t know, I’m in high demand these days. Everyone wants to study with me.” You flaunted. Of course you would study with him, you just wanted to make him work for it. Eric rushed to follow you out of the classroom.

“Pretty please.” He pouted and gave you puppy eyes. You snorted at his attempt of acting cute, which he didn’t even need to do since he was naturally cute.

“Okay fine, but only if you stop doing that hideous face.” You stopped to open your locker.

Eric leaned on the locker next to yours and crossed his arms. “No one can resist this sexy face.”

“Yeah okay.” You replied in a sarcastic tone, though you secretly agreed with him. You took a pen out of your locker and grabbed his hand. Eric held his breath and watched to see what you would do next. You wrote your phone number on the palm of his hand. “Text me. Or facetime me, whatever works for you.” You shut your locker and headed to your next class.

Eric stared at your number on his hand and smiled to himself, his heart still racing from when you touched him.

While you walked away, you felt proud that you were able to pull that move off. But then the color drained from your face. You never said what time. The power rested entirely on Eric and when he decided to contact you. That means that you would have to wait and possibly be camera-ready all day.

As soon as Eric got home from school, he entered your phone number and saved your contact. He wondered whether he would seem too eager if he texted you right away. You were probably still studying with Hyunjae. Eric scoffed as he thought about how Hyunjae was there instead of him.

You stared at the black screen on your phone. Tapping on it for the millionth time, the screen read 8:15 pm. Why didn’t you specify a time? You dived for your phone every time you saw your phone light up with a notification.

Was he even going to facetime you? You glanced around your room in horror. You weren’t able to fix it when you rushed out of the house this morning. You could not let Eric see this mess. You got to work fixing your room while you waited for him to text you. Hearing the familiar vibration, you reached for your phone, hoping it wasn’t another spam email.

hey, it’s eric. are you free to ft and work on the hw rn?

Eric sent the text and threw his phone on the bed. He had spent 15 minutes debating whether his text was too casual. Hugging his pillow, he anxiously waited for you to respond.

yea i’m free

You checked your room once again to see if anything was out of place. Then you saw your reflection in the mirror. You were so caught up in fixing your room, you forgot to fix your appearance. You quickly applied something on your lips so you wouldn’t look too bad.

After sitting down in front of a lamp so you would have optimal lighting, you picked up his facetime call.

“Hey.” You felt your breath hitch in your throat. His hair was still wet from the shower he took just earlier. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get any hotter.

“So how was your date with Hyunjae.” He didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in his tone. Wow, real smooth Eric. He should’ve waited a bit longer to bring it up, but he couldn’t help it.

You laughed at his choice of a conversation starter. “It wasn’t a date, and it was actually very fun. Maybe I need to start charging you for my services. I’ll only accept payment with bubble tea from now on.”

“Spending quality time with me is your payment.” He replied with a smug look on his face.

You shook your head. “That is not enough, I fear.”

Eric crossed his arms and tried to look offended. “I’ll hang up right now then.”

“Need I remind you that you were the one that begged me to help you today?” You spoke matter-of-factly. “But if you must leave, go. I’m very busy you know.”

“Busy studying with other guys? I thought we had something special.” He dramatically clutched his heart.

“You wish, you are yet another one of my side hoes.”

“Your main hoe being boba?” He raised an eyebrow.

You paused to think of a witty response. “It seems you are more interested in my love life than those calculus problems you needed help with.”

“Those problems can wait.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, how about this? For every problem you get correct, you can ask me a question and I’ll answer it honestly.” You proposed.

Eric smiled widely. “I like how you think. And what happens if I get them wrong?”

“Then I get to ask you a question.” You replied.

“You won’t be able to ask me any questions.” His cockiness was apparent from how confidently he spoke. “The first solution is 5.”

Checking the answer to the first problem, you confirmed that it was 5.

“Since this is about your love life, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked, desperately wanting you to say no.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Yes, I do have one.” You watched for Eric’s reaction. Eric’s smile dropped for a split second as he registered what you said.

“Oh really? Who? Do I know him?” He interrogated, completely dropping his previous act.

You felt amused watching him squirm. “That’s three other problems you have to get right.”

To your surprise, Eric continued to get the next three problems correct.

“So who is your boyfriend?” He phrased carefully.

“Hyunjae.” You said with a straight face.

Eric’s eyes grew 10 times the size they were. “Really?”

“Nah, I’m just playing. I don’t have a boyfriend.” You finally revealed the truth.

That definitely made Eric happier than he’d like to admit.

“You just made me waste two questions.” He emphasized by holding up two fingers.

“Did you even need help with those problems Eric?”

“Yes...but I figured them all out while you were flirting with Hyunjae.” He looked away from the screen.

“I was not flirting with Hyunjae.” You lied. You did flirt a little, but that was only because you wanted to see if Eric got jealous.

Eric rolled his eyes, not believing you. “Sure you weren’t.”

“You have not seen me flirt, believe me, you would know.” You told him honestly. If you were going to flirt with anyone, it would be him.

Eric’s smile returned once again. “I look forward to seeing that.”

You and Eric fell into a routine where you met up every week to study calculus. And then facetimed after school. And then texted at night. You would work together during class, and Eric would get annoyed every time Hyunjae tried to join.

You and Eric were prepared for the next calculus quiz and your efforts paid off. As soon as Eric got his quiz back, his first thought was to see the look on your face when he told you his grade.

At the end of class, Eric proudly dangled his quiz in front of your face, he couldn’t contain the smile on his face.

You saw a large A on the top of the first page and you pulled him into a hug. Before you could regret acting so spontaneously, Eric hugged you back just as tightly. This was the first time you both hugged, but it felt so comforting and you didn’t want to let go. “Wow I’m so proud of you, I can’t believe you’re scoring higher than me.” You said when you finally pulled away.

“I’m coming for your throne.” Eric winked at you.

After consistently doing well in the classwork, Eric realized that he didn’t need help anymore. The tutoring sessions eventually became an excuse to meet you.

Eric pointed at a problem, his eyes trained on yours, “Can you explain this to me?”

“Eric, you literally taught me how to solve this.” You giggled.

“Oh, did I? Um...well I forgot. Explain it to me again?” You could never resist Eric’s puppy-dog eyes. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized how cute he was.

“Graph this equation.” Eric had randomly said one day while you were studying at the library.

You stared at the equation he wrote and looked back at him with confusion. “How is this relevant to calculus?”

“Just do it.” He whined.

You reached for your graphing calculator and entered the equation.

Staring at the shape the equation produced, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it resembled...“A heart?”

You looked up to see Eric grinning from ear-to-ear, clearly proud that he was able to find this equation.

“Very cute Eric. This is why you urgently needed to meet up today?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that and I needed to talk to you about something else. My coach told me that the improvement in my grades is enough for me to rejoin the team.” Eric started, unsure of whether he should tell you that he didn’t need tutoring anymore.

“Oh really? That’s great news!” You kept your eyes focused on the paper. You knew that him joining the team would mean your tutoring sessions would have to come to an end soon. “I’m guessing you won’t have time to study anymore.”

Eric knew that he wanted to see you every day, but he didn’t want to pretend that he only wanted to meet you under the pretense of studying. He took a deep breath before speaking. You brought your eyes to meet his when you realized that something must have been up. Eric was never quiet for this long.

“I was wondering if you wanted to continue meeting up outside of school hours, just us two,” Eric asked hesitantly, waiting for your response.

Your eyes widened. Was he asking you out? It’s not a complete reach because you two have been spending a lot of time “studying.” You were afraid that you were taking his words in the wrong way. “You want to study outside?”

“Oh...no, no studying. It would just be us meeting up outside, no calculus.” He looked at the floor.

“Eric Sohn, are you asking me out on a date?” You asked him.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that. I’ve liked you for a while and I didn’t really need help anymore but I still want to see you often. I understand if you don-”

You cut off his rambling with a kiss. You resisted the urge to laugh at how red his ears were when you pulled away. “I like you too. Finally you can buy me my long-deserved boba.”

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

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How Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo would react to their S/O in the hospital

Hi, anon! You are welcome to join my Discord Server if you are a fan of Hxh, Voltron, or both! I promise this is a safe environment! This is an interesting topic for sure! To the other anon(s), I am working on your request! This will contain both fluff and angst. I forgot to include Leorio in this, so I’ll include him in the next HxH post. You’ll have to forgive me, I have 2 more requests in my inbox and I am not feeling the best. I just got my second Covid shot and it is hurting like hell. Nevertheless, I encourage you all to get your shot if you can. I will be on this site one and off and I should be on it for real next week. I have run out of ideas to write and I began to think I was annoying people with my HxH content (no one said this I just assumed). This post has 1974 words. After these requests are finished, I plan on doing a character analysis for Leorio.

Anyway, let’s get into the post!

We’ll start with Hisoka this time.

Hisoka

In all honesty, this man has heard of a hospital (since he sends a lot of people to it after fights) but has never been in one.

The signs, floors, staircase numbers, and elevators all confuse him. He has only been in one once when he was a kid and has never been again.

He isn’t a social butterfly in this setting because this is a professional establishment and not a college party. Asking for directions takes quite a toll on him because of his established pride. You know guys act when they want to find a destination on their own and will go miles out of the way instead of just asking for direction.

He doesn’t talk to anyone; all he wants to do is find you and make sure you are alright.

He is the tallest person in the freight elevator. So tall that everyone at turns to look at him at once for at least 10 seconds and turn back around surprised.

“How tall is he,” one of the nurses ask.

“Tall enough to be my house!”

This annoys him. He takes out the Joker card and lays it against his thigh but realizes he cannot make any hasty decisions. His bloodlust was activated merely out of irritation and not by threat. You were on his mind and destroying these worthless humans wasn’t an option for today.

He approached the guest desk and waited for about 2 minutes before he was acknowledged.

“May I help you,” a smug receptionist asked. Wow, these people do not know who they’re talking to.

“I’m here to see y/n.”

“Y/n is in room 345. Go down the hall and to the right all the way down.”

This man nearly ran with a quickness! His jester shoes somehow made the floor shake as he ran.

You were awake, eating the horrible food the hospital provided and watching TV. It seemed like you were doing ok, but you had just been in a car accident. Your arms and right leg were still sore. It was so bad that you’d be fine with Hisoka carrying you everywhere.

When you two are alone in serious public places, he doesn’t play games or tricks. He is often portrayed as a ruthless man, but in settings like this, he places the jokes and games aside for later. When he enters your room, he is silent for 30 seconds. Much too long. He was shocked; he walked around your hospital bed, pulled up a chair, and stared at your cast. It had many names written on it.

“Yes, I am ok.”

“I apologize for not being there for you,” he began to say.

“Shh… it’s ok. This is life. It hurts like hell, but I’m a trooper!”

Admiring your cast and its multiple fonts of handwriting and messages, he grabbed a sharpie marker, wrote his name, with a heart and spade next to it. Surprisingly, his cursive was very neat and legible.

“I didn’t know you knew how to write in cursive! Why don’t you write me letters?”

“I see you every day and it hurts my hand.”

The doctor wouldn’t be in for another 1 ½ hours, so Hisoka used your thigh as a pillow as he took a nap. He had been up for countless nights thinking about you. He was screwing up so bad, Chrollo let him leave early.

“As soon as your better, we will fight again. I won’t go easy on you. You won’t be in the hospital but you get the jest.”

Illumi

Illumi isn’t the type of man to overreact in these types of situations. When you both agreed to date each other, you knew you all were tough cookies. You were aware of the dangers of dating an assassin and he knew about the dangers of dating a bounty hunter. People hated you both and you targeted.

One night you both were caught in a vulnerable state. While you both enjoyed chocolate milkshakes at a laid-back 1950’s styled diner, two men were previously thrown out for fighting. While your back was turned one of those men shot your arm, causing you to carelessly throw your body to the ground due to impact.

While everyone else was screaming, Illumi jumped to the ground and tied his hair tie around your arm to temporarily stop the bleeding.

“Illu, why does it feel cold in here,” you managed to breathe out.

His heart dropped to his stomach for the first time in history.

“Don’t say things like that!”

Illumi is already horrible at displaying emotions, but all he could do is frown in fear. Once the EMS came barling in, he demanded that he ride with you.

Illumi hadn’t experienced anything like this since Killua had been injured when he fell from a tree.

You and he were separated when you were rushed into surgery leaving him alone in the waiting room.

When Illumi is stressed and cannot properly display how he feels, he tends to act in “odd” ways.

He begins to furiously turn pages in magazines or bother the receptions every 2 minutes about the status of your surgery. When the woman finally says that you’re still alive, he tones it down a little.

Illumi is open to conforming advice from strangers; he has been receiving it secretly from strangers. Since Silva was busy abusing him, he often found comfort from “the streets”.

He has a bad habit of pacing back and forth and fidgeting in his seat while horrific images fill his mind. All he has seen is pain and even though he was used to it, he didn’t want you to go through it as well.

While sitting in his seat (finally!) and head in his lap, doubled over indescribable sorrow, a little girl walks up to him with her hands folded and a doll under her arms. Illumi feels her presence and looks up. The girl’s curly hair covered her endearing eyes and her smile is wide.

“They’ll be alright. I just know they will,” turning around returning to her mother, the girl said with confidence.

On cue, Illumi placed his hand over his heart, smiling just a little.

He walked quickly to your room once you were out of surgery.

His speed walk mimics one of a soldier; his left arm in since with his right leg. His shoes echoed throughout the hall.

As soon as he enters the room, he shuts the door harder than usual and gives you a tight embrace. This surprises you! You’re lucky if he lays his head on your shoulder!

Illumi had been working out lately. He wanted to beat you in the “squish the melon” contest. He is very competitive and even if he lost, that doesn’t hurt his ego. Not in the slightest. Since it was just the both of you alone, he bends down to hug you tight, so tight that your face is squished against his.

This behavior is only surprising because he usually doesn’t coddle you even when you get hurt, but this time he realized that you could have died from the gunshot wound.

After that he kissed your forehead and almost simultaneously the doctor barreled in just missing the sweet moment between you and your beau.

Chrollo

When Chrollo is holding meetings with the Phantom Troupe, he always appears to be neutral. That is very important. A leader has to show strength even through the worst/hurtful times of their lives.

Chrollo had gotten a call from Nobunaga that you had gotten hurt on a mission and had actually gotten captured by the enemy. Phinks was able to get you back but you suffered horrible injuries.

This is protocol; they do this for any of the members. The troupe was oblivious to the fact that you and Chrollo were dating. They thought you were here to replace Uvo.

In situations like this, he is calm on the outside but screaming on the inside. Common sense will tell you if you are startled by the news you’ve just received and you begin to drive, you could cause more harm on the way to your destination.

Chrollo is very silent; he doesn’t call to check on your status or anything; he would rather see it for himself.

You were a trooper! After all, you are dating a dangerous robber.

Chrollo already knew what room you were in so he just went.

“I knew I should have kept y/n by my side. Y/n insisted on doing my dirty work that they almost died! How foolish could I have been?” He constantly cursed himself for letting his guard down with you.

He always gave you room to think and complete your own tasks but he can’t help his protective nature; one he has for the troupe but times 10.

His childhood friends had been shot by law enforcers, his home was horrific, and the last thing he needed was for you to be gone. You were keeping him afloat in society.

When he opened the door, Phinks was sitting in a chair, one leg over the other, laughing at a TikTok video.

Nobunaga on the other hand was watching the world news and seemed invested that he didn’t hear Chrollo enter the room. Once they both saw, they stood to their feet.

“Y/n is ok boss. They suffered a few cuts and burns, but they're breathing.”

Chrollo’s straight face remained as he stared at you.

Chrollo’s silence is something the troupe has internalized as a sign of anger, rage, or both. When he didn’t speak and just stared, everyone knew that their next mission was going to be a brutal one.

Chrollo is a man that isn’t afraid to express how he feels. He could cry right now if he wanted to and no one would dare laugh at him or insult him. After all, Nobunaga cried when he realized Uvo was dead.

Nobunaga and Phinks excused themselves as they saw him place his hand over his mouth.

Once the door closed, He pulled up the chair, grabbed your hand, and gently squeezed it. His warmth woke you up instantly and you turned your head. You winced in pain causing Chrollo to jump from his seat, moving to your right side so you wouldn’t turn your head too much.

“I’m glad you're alive, darling. What were you doing putting yourself in danger? Feitan could have handled the beast!”

He isn’t trying to doubt your ability to fight, he’s just concerned for your safety. Even so, why would he insist that you join the spiders?

A tear dropped from his face as he silently kissed your hand three times. You smiled warmly and placed your right left hand on top of his.

“I am fine, boss. You need not worry. I’m a trooper, remember?”

He placed your hand against his dry cheek and continued to kiss it. You were his lifeline and he wanted to spend every moment with you.

389 notes · View notes

roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk.

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded.

Wands,

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”.

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her.

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic.

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this.

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told.

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation.

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters.

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together.

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting.

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different.

You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything.

Sunshine,

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright.

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school?

I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think?

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did.

You loved her. You really did.

§§§

It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head.

You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.

So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her.

You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was.

You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.

You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all?

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that.

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl.

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home?

Moonlight,

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade.

I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.

Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two.

I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way.

If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset.

It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight.

Your Sunshine, Wanda.

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about.

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any.

She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper.

Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have.

Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it.

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that.

Sunshine,

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier.

§§§

By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink.

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around.

The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient.

And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss.

The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage.

Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too.

The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers.

You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known.

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came.

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth.

Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well.

You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it.

You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all.

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda.

A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression.

Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you.

Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

“O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment.

“You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

“I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.”

The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.”

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it.

But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed.

You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?”

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.”

“Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?”

You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about.

Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know.

You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.”

She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway.

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready.

You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it.

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her.

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?”

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.”

“More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought.

You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently.

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.”

You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close.

Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too.

You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life.

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfic #wanda fluff #scarlet witch #marvel au #wanda maximoff fluff #lgbtq #lesbian!wanda

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

WARNINGS : N!SFW 18+ AGED UP AU! SOME SCENES MAY CONTAIN GRAPHIC CONTENT, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YANDERE THEMES GIF MADE BY ME

It started out with a package.

Roses really, neatly tucked away in plastic and a glass vase that nestled into loud styrofoam.

Or at least that's when you started to notice it.

Actually it started with a phone call didn't it?

Just a few days ago the old rotary phone, the one you bought for nostalgia, rang. This in itself was not odd, you picked up the aged yellow receiver and pressed the cool plastic to your ear.

But you did not speak, waiting patiently for the other line to come to life. After a few moments of silence you figure it to be a telemarketer, the automated type that doesn't start its spiel until it hears a tone, a voice. So you hang up.

The random call lost to both time and thought.

But you cannot forget this package that acted as a catalyst, to what you were not sure.

You just knew it was something.

The white box with the flower company's name on the side of the cardboard sat on your concrete steps, just past the waist high fence. You were returning from a run, huffing as you bent over, you figured it was most likely for your neighbor but it had your address. The recipient's name had been worn off from the poor handling of the package, you had figured the contents to be broken. Despite the state of the box the roses were perfectly intact. Crystal vase sparkling even through the opaque wrapping, a note on top that read.

I'll love you always.

Ah so this was not for you. You scoff, this was meant for your neighbor as you first originally thought. It made more sense that way. What with his boyfriend being long distance, it was obvious. He most likely remembered his address wrong and put yours in error. As you're haphazardly closing the box, keeping the note in hand, your neighbor waltz from his door.

"Ah, um Denki-kun" You call, a bright smile beams on his face as he makes his way to meet you at your shared fence.

"Love!" He greets, strong hand giving your bicep a soft squeeze, "Ah flowers? Spill!"

"Well they aren't mine. I...I think they're yours. Here." You shove the box and note into his hands, stupid tears trying to prick your eyes.

Why? You were unsure.

Maybe you were a bit jealous. Thinking back you couldn't remember the last time you had even had a flirtatious comment or cat call sent your way. You lived a normal quiet life with your "abnormality". Quirkless. You worked from home, spoke to a select few and hardly left your house. It contributed to your wait gain thus adding to your small list of places to go.

The grocery store.

And the gym Denki invited you to or around the block for a run.

After a gurgling amount of time you finally achieved your dream body. Now all that was left was to maintain it.

"Wait!" Denki calls, "This isn't my boyfriend's handwriting."

Furrowing your brows, hand on the handle the answer comes to you.

"Probably just one of those fonts meant to look like handwriting."

"No, come look. It was made with a ballpoint pen." Nothing escapes his pro hero trained eye, his finger slides beneath the words, "He seems passionate! Lucky duck look at how deep love is."

He passes the card to you, giving you a wink as he passes the white box. Sure enough there are divots in the card stock, love is the deepest. Deep enough it almost ripped through the thick paper. You swallow thickly racking your brain, your job requires you to have answers to every question. Logical answers. So it's no surprise your mind wanders until it comes up with something. Your eyes shift to the right, you were lucky enough for your little house to be on the corner of the block.

The delicate roses must have been intended for your neighbor diagonal from you. You wait until Denki is halfway down the block before you rush across the quiet street to set the flowers up neatly on the porch. Throwing the box and wrapping into the trash before you speed walk into the safety of your sanctuary.

Your cats prance to the door to greet you and then sprint to the kitchen to be fed. As if you hadn't just fed them before your run a little less than an hour ago.

The rest of your night is uneventful. You curl on the couch, nestled deep within an old cardigan and the comfort of your leggings with a pile of work to be analyzed. To find the devil in the details and solve what seemed unsolvable.

The answers were always there, under your nose. Found easily by your trained eye but how could you not see the obvious answers when you had the luxury of a bird's eye view. The luxury of knowing the whole story from the shakey beginning to the bitter end.

A luxury you would not have for your own story.

The shrill ring cuts through the comfortable silence causing you to jump from your skin, the cats perk their heads up lazily to see what disturbed them before tucking their head back down.

You tell yourself it's a wrong number, a telemarketer but curiosity is beginning to get the better of you.

And curiosity is a deadly, loud thing. Louder than reason. Reason you had learned from the safety of your home, from other people's mistakes. The same very mistakes that sit on your lap with harsh red ink labeling them C L A S S I F I E D.

It rings a fourth time as you stand, the bell calling out for your attention, demanding you speak. You lift the receiver, again there is silence on the other end.

You wait patiently, is this another automated telemarketer? Had you entered your real number by mistake for one of those stupid store discounts?

You must have, still you resist the urge to tap the speaker of the phone to see if it would trigger the recording.

Instead you drop the receiver onto the base, rattling the hidden bell.

And that was that, you return to your work. Pouring over the details to find the pattern, to build a psychological profile to avoid a tragedy in the future.

Ironic how you cannot prevent your own.

It isn't until a few weeks later does the first letter find its way into your mailbox.

It seemed harmless enough you thought it to be an accident, just neatly looped words proclaiming their love. But it was never fully addressed to you and when you tried to pass it off to Denki, again he denied that the letter belonged to him.

Still, those looping letters twist into your memory, coming to the forefront of your mind every now and again. As if the paper that lies on your dining room table reads itself aloud, from beginning to end at the top of every hour.

As if the ink doesn't want you to forget.

"I am not sure when it started, but it did. I had fallen for you despite my efforts not to. A half of a year I've told myself to forget it, to forget you. And yet I cannot bring myself to stop, the more I try the more you come to mind. And the more I find myself near you. It's as if you're a bad drug I can't quit. I've been watching you. Everything you do is done in such cautious beauty. Please answer next time my dear."

Silence for weeks after that, at least as far as the rotary phone and the mailbox were concerned. You would occasionally get a text from an unknown number.

A transposed number, an error on the sender's end. Or so you assured yourself, especially when they would seem a bit too coincidental. When you were out for a jog or out at the gym at a different time than usual a text would come through.

For a second your mouth would go dry, your blood ice cold as you read the black letters atop the white screen. Huffing as your lack of breath came from a psychological response as opposed to your physical running.

Why aren't you home?

See you soon?

But these couldn't be intended for you. How could they? You could list the people you knew outside of your family and work place on one hand.

Denki.

And only because he spoke to you first!

So these texts, these little messages laced with concern could have been for an estranged spouse, a forgetful spouse or some partner who lacked the ability to properly communicate.

You just knew they weren't for you.

Or so your new mantra goes.

Paranoia didn't begin to sink it's sharp teeth into you until you noticed your cats' odd behavior.

In an immeasurable amount of time they went from lazy, happy go lucky animals to hostile even aggressive creatures. As if they were suddenly feral.

Oddly enough they only acted this way during certain times, mainly at night. Their moon eyes saw things you could not, their enhanced hearing heard things you could not, things you labeled, rat or mouse.

Would a mouse or rat cause a cat to hiss at shrouded corners? To claw at the wall with a howl that sounded more like a scream? Would it make them avoid the closet door in your room?

Maybe it was bigger? The floorboards above did groan more often than not lately. Maybe it was a raccoon even.

Yes, that had to be the cause of their behavior.

And yet there was still that one time, that one instance you sometimes dream about waking in a cold sweet.

The thing you cannot explain away, nor label as mouse, rat, not even a raccoon.

A cocktail of a tired mind and a trick of the eye but simply not vermin.

It was overcast, a sickly grey as the day wept deep into the night. The weather, naturally, caused you to melt into the plush material of your couch as you consumed comfort movie after comfort movie. You were given a reprieve from your worry as your cats seemed normal, sleepy just as you were that day. Even Nyx chose to laze on your chest as a temporary throne. Your couch is flush against the arch way that leads into the dining room and kitchen, giving it's back to part of the hallway towards the main bathroom and your bedroom at the back.

This angle always caused you great anxiety but there was no other way your luxury couch could fit in the small living room and so you always sunk low into the cushions.

Suddenly Nyx's ears twitch and her eyes snap open, waking only a cat knows how. On high alert to a sound totally lost to your draft ear. Her eyes widen, pupils dilating to adjust better to the shadowed room. The glow of the TV casts such a glow on the objects around you, flicker in soft and harsh lights. Slowly Nyx cranes her neck to see what exactly disturbed her sleep, just as her eyes lock on whatever is behind you, you see it for just a fraction of a second.

In the reflection of those moon eyes you see it. Distorted only from the curvature of her lens and the grain of the TV but there is no denying its shape.

A crude outline of a man, broad shouldered and faceless in the dark.

You freeze, mirroring your cat. Breath held as you watch the figure in the pitch black pupil. Wishing, hoping and praying that what you see is not really there.

After an eon of a moment, Nyx begins to shrink in on herself before silently slinking from the couch to find shelter beneath it.

You are not brave enough to move, to crane your head just as your cat did before you to confirm if what you saw was real. And in the milliseconds that the TV goes black you avoid the corner the figure should be standing in. Goose flesh breaks out over your skin, making you feel vulnerable and cold. While your feet burn begging you to get up.

To run.

After a lot of mental reassurance and silence you begin to settle down. Easing yourself back into the rational world. Even becoming brave enough to stare into the TV, into the corner where the figure should be reflected in.

Each passing second as you wait for that small moment of blackness sends your heart into an irrational pace. Finally it happens and when you see nothing you sigh with relief.

Mentally giving yourself an "I told you it was nothing." talk.

That is until you hear a sound, a thump and a click from the back bedroom.

Your bedroom.

But the sound seems as if it came from within, as if it were your closet door.

Your heart explodes into frantic erratic beating.

The shrill ring of the old rotary phone rips through the dialogue of the movie but it can be barely heard over the hum of your blood.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

Tonight you are frozen in place, whether that be from petrifying fear or sheer stubborn denial you cannot say. You just know one thing. You do not want to deal with the automated telemarketer who never seems to speak.

It rings four more times before it stops.

You chalk it up to coincidence. To nothing.

Late evening turns into late night and sooner rather than later you find yourself in the mouth of the hallway. Staring down your bedroom door as your mind plays on repeat the sound of a door closing from earlier that night.

You cannot let the boogie man keep you from sleep. Slowly you enter, flicking on all the lights.

Everything seems to be in place, the small pile of laundry still lies abandoned by your hamper, your bed neatly made, pillows haphazardly lying about the comforter. Hell even your inherited diamond drop necklace still sits snugly in the jewelry dish on your night stand.

The townhouse makes an odd sound, you jump out of your skin. Clutching your phone so hard the lock and volume buttons imprint into your palms.

No longer can you ignore the elephant in the room as the silence from this particular space screams at deafening volumes until you dare to look. Your eyes flicker to your left and there it is.

Your closet door, seeming to yawn and stretch even in the harsh hue of the overhead light. A closet is always an ominous, odd place and the sounds it may or may not have made cause a great twisting in your stomach. The shine of the knob calls to you with deadly wonder. Begging you to turn the gleaming metal to reveal the darkness behind the bland white door.

It should be inspected shouldn't it? If you ever wanted to sleep soundly you would need to reveal what may lurk in the dark.

Creeping towards the door with baited breath until finally your hand hovers over the knob.

"Open me." It seems to whisper in delighted glee, elated to see your stressed, scared features distort in its polished brass. You retract your fingers as if burned, biting onto your lip as you scrape your large armchair against the wood. Shoving it into place against the closet door.

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the door until your eyes burn. You turn off the overhead light but keep the soft light of your nightstand lamp on.

You dream fever dreams of flashing lights as a storm passes overhead. Dream of the closet door laughing in the night, of cool fingers pressed into your skin.

Jolting awake you reach for your phone as your senses slowly come to you. Your eyes fly to the armchair in the mid morning light. It rests in the same spot you left it ominously staring at your bed.

Something seems off about it or maybe you just imagine that there is a deep divot in the cushion, as if someone or something sat in the armchair most of the night.

You close your eyes and go over rational explanations. Always bringing back to yourself the same question.

Who in the world would want you?

Bringing you back full circle, that you were getting ahead of yourself. The cart before the horse in a sense and letting your mind race without restraint.

Letting the season of Fall try to creep into your bones and cause an artificial fear.

Still it's not too long after that do the cats avoid your room altogether.

While you choose to do what you've always done, push the problem aside and explain it away.

The phone rings as you're lacing up your running shoes. You pick up the receiver without bringing it to your ear and place it down gently.

It's just a wrong number anyway.

Tonight air bites at your nose, leaves crunching underfoot as wind whips around buildings and trash, carrying with it the promise of a harsh winter to come.

Your feet carry you slowly back to the direction of home as they beat down your normal, safe route.

A right from your little townhome, straight for two blocks before you would find the winding black pavement. It would snake past the backs of homes through some small trees but never a path that was fully hidden.

Always out in the open but giving you the ability to peer into people's lives as you passed. Witnessing dinners, arguments and heated moments of passion. Silently you thanked Kami you were not positioned on this route.

You keep your eyes focused ahead, the music in your ears low to listen for possible passers such as a bike or a better runner than yourself.

You pass a tree that seems thicker than normal, your phone buzzes on your arm band.

An email, it has to be an email.

Yet your mind wanders to those worried texts, lingers on the thoughts of if that tree had always been that wide, if the quickly setting sun had always cast the path in blood red. The maroon leaves flutter overhead, falling to the ground.

More crunching than what you think your feet should produce has you running faster. Forcing yourself not to glance over your shoulder. Your breathing becomes rasped as you borderline sprint home, still the crunching comes closer.

It isn't until someone brushes your shoulder as they pass do you let out a blood curdling scream. Huffing to catch your breath as you take a step back. The jogger, your neighbor from across the street that you occasionally run into, removes his earbud.

"You okay?" He addresses you by your name and suddenly you're embarrassed that you do not know his. He takes your silence as an answer, his brow furrowing.

"I thought you'd be less skittish since your new boyfriend's been coming around." Your mouth goes dry.

"Wh...what?"

"Yea he seems so sweet. He always checks the windows to make sure they are locked at night." He takes in your response and shrugs, "It's getting late. Since I didn't see your boyfriend there yet, I'll jog you home."

The jog home is agonizing,your mind racing far faster than your feet can go.

What did he mean he saw him checking the windows? What boyfriend?

Maybe, maybe he mixed up your house with Denki's again. It's happened once before when he was returning mail. So there was a good chance he was mistaken again.

Still the closer the two of you get to home the worse you feel. A brick sits in your stomach as he jogs in place before your fence. He gives you a knowing smile and a wink as you wave him goodbye.

It isn't until you turn to face your home do you notice it, the white rectangle stark against your black door.

There is an envelope taped to the thick oak, addressed to no one but "My beloved".

You rip it from the wood with ragged breath as you bring it inside. Already you can feel the contents squirming, fidgeting as it waits to be read.

Polaroid photos fall to the hardwood floors, pictures of you running down your favorite path. Blurred images of you walking down the aisles of the grocery store, and even a photo of you taken between the cracks of the fence in your front yard.

There are no more photos after that, at least not this time. Just that fucking letter written in long looping ink You feel the words tighten around your throat as horror wraps its spindly fingers around your guts and yanks them towards the floor.

Your knees threaten to buckle as your eyes rapidly move along the page.

"In these moments you are the most beautiful. Blissfully unaware of prying eyes. In my time I've come to care for you I've noticed I'm not the only one watching. People gaze at you with whispered murmurs, with pitying eyes as they spin tales of your life. Speculating gossip as you prance about the neighborhood. Flaunting in those tight running shorts that hold every godly curve of your thighs and ass. Of the light jacket you leave unzipped so they can get a better view of your bouncing breasts tucked in your black sports bra. I wonder, would they bounce like that when you ride on my cock? Would your hair stick to your forehead like that as I rail you from behind. Would that angelic voice squeak out for more? For me? Ah I'm salivating thinking of it, harder than I've ever been. Please do not wear those out while running. In fact you don't have to run anymore Doll. You just need to let me take care of you God damn it. You little fucking whore. You seductive vixen with your God damned doe eyes. Just...just fucking answer please."

Rage and fear fight for control as you reread the letter for the fourth, fifth time before you finally move. Rage, for once, wins. You slam the door behind you locking the deadbolt before running to the back bedroom. Throwing the heavy chair from the closet door and ripping it open.

Nothing lies within it, just clothes that begin to smell of neglect. Of old running shoes you didn't have the heart to throw away.

Of relief that whoever was sending these letters, these ones that weren't meant for you. Wasn't currently in the house.

The floorboards overhead groan and for a moment you have half a mind to tuck your cats away into their carrier, buy a one way train ticket to bumfuck nowhere and set your house ablaze.

Instead you move the chair back in front of the closet, grabbing things from your back bedroom to start your new life on your couch.

Time passes as the trees become more bare, their spindly fingers reaching out to tap the roof at odd hours of the night.

Tomorrow you promised yourself you would run.

And yet you find yourself dressed, lacing up your shoes before slowly opening the door. Your jacket is zipped all the way up, your hair neatly tied back and just as you step foot out the front door a heavy wind rips through the yard causing Denki's unlatched gate to slam. You jump back startled as your fear clings to you like a second skin. The letter begins to overlap in your head and the polaroid photos you had trashed a few weeks ago burn into your retinas. A faint snap and a whirl comes from close by and suddenly your stomach churns. Bile rushes up your windpipe too quickly, slamming the door shut and running to the bathroom. You barely make it as you dry heave into the porcelain bowl, huffing in the air of fresh toilet water. The smell starts a vicious cycle of nausea until finally your clammy skin begins to cool, pressing yourself to the side of the tub. In your panic your skin becomes sensitive, hyper aware of each stitch in your jacket, your sports bra and your jogging leggings. Your rip at your clothes until you peel them off of you, huffing as you scramble to get into the shower.

It does not matter that the water is not yet hot. Hell it isn't even lukewarm still you find yourself in the stream as it becomes scalding. Scrubbing at your skin with soap over and over and over. Nails pulling away already raw skin until that burning water begins to cool. A floorboard creaks overhead causing your head to snap up. The ceiling holds no secrets and yet no answers until you see it. A small hole, one you aren't sure if it's always been there, gaping from the attic over your shower and bath. It's too dark to tell if there is someone peering down at you from above or not.

Instead of freaking out your head slowly tilts away from the haunting discovery. Turning off the water, opening the curtain and wrapping yourself in a towel. As if it were every day you see something like that, as if it were nothing more than a spider lingering that you'd wish to forget.

It's fine It's always been there

But that would be the last time you would take a shower in that house.

Even though you hardly left your couch, things would still go missing in yourself. Things like the remote or one of your hundreds of phone charger cords. Even documents to cases but you didn't care, couldn't care. Otherwise you would break. Shatter.

Your days consisted of lying on the couch and consuming an ungodly amount of television. Doing so until your eyes burned although you begged them to stay open. Sadly everyone needed sleep and so you did. Giving into exhaustion as your eyes fluttered closed and your body weak, relaxing into the comfort of the couch.

Hours are lost to you so you dream and dream. Of a better time or of yourself in one of your files to dissect. Giving yourself that perfect bird's eye view and wondering how the victim never saw it coming.

In your dream you feel something along your face, smooth fingertips trace down your cheek over and over at a lulling pace.

"So perfect." A whispered serenade melding in with a snap and a whirl. A flash of lightning from a passing storm.

Except there was no storm coming in.

Your eyes snap open as you jerk to a sitting position frantically looking around the room. When your eyes find nothing you allow your beating heart to settle back into your numbed state, more than ready to melt into the couch.

Until your stomach growls forcing you to focus on a new problem.

When was the last time you ate? Your stomach had long forgotten about food, choosing to conserve energy in case you needed to run from whatever the hell it was in your head.

Forgoing dressing you place your hand on the knob, wallet in hand. Two sets of glowing eyes watch you from beneath the couch. Twisting the metal to yank the door open you are greeted with cold fall air. The wind whips hair into your face as your mind quickly wanders. You half imagined a man to be standing in the middle of the street. Mouth stretched too far over gleaming teeth, lips parting enough as the wind brings with it the sound of your name.

Frantically you move your hair from your face, eyes searching up and down the street to find no one, nothing.

As it should be at 10am on a weekday. Suddenly the weight of going outside sits on your shoulders, despite the convenience store being a ten minute walk both ways, the thought of you going alone scared you. Slowly you shut the door, falling to your knees before lying face down on your floor openly sobbing.

A creaking board sends you back to high alert, you remove your jacket and decide to order take out instead.

The knocking at your front door jolts you awake, the TV drones in the background with hazed over words as you quickly come to. Heart slamming into your chest before your stomach growls loudly. Right, food.

Your hand hovers over the knob as if suddenly you cannot move, as if the person on the other side of the door is an imposter lying in wait. Another knock comes at the door, he announces who he works for which eases your phobia a bit. You swallow thickly before finally opening the door, hands sweating as the anticipation of the identity of the stranger on your porch.

He seems to check out, his outfit covered in logos for your takeout restaurant of choice, car labeled as such as well. He holds the receipt towards you. His eyes wander over the face of the house, giving you sudden chills.

The question falls from your numb lips.

"D...do you see anyone in the windows?" The delivery guy visibly jarrs, eyes darting to the windows of your room and the living room. Suddenly his face changes as a knowing smile spreads on his lips.

"This is a prank isn't it? For Halloween right?" He chuckles, but when he sees the pen shaking in your grip his face goes stone cold. Eyes darting to your left, to the bedroom windows. He taps the paper, indicating where you need to sign, you take a moment to do so.

The old rotary phone screams from the living room, making you both jump.

"Guess I better get that." You gesture, grabbing for your food. He nods affirmation before stepping off of your small porch a little too quickly.

You slam the front door, appetite washed away by each shrill of the small bell. Hesitantly you reach for it, you have to know, need to know who could be on the other side.

The receiver is cold against your ear, the other line is quiet, although you can hear something soft in the background.

Talking, it sounds familiar, like an echo or almost as if there is a delay. It almost sounds like the same commercial that's playing on your TV right now.

Gently you set the phone down, the soft click echoes in the space around you. You sit on the couch before lying, covering yourself in your blanket as your takeout sits by the door, forgotten.

It wouldn't be too long before it begins to rot, almost as quickly as you.

The phone rings

And rings

And rings.

Nightly in fact, for the next few weeks as you cry silently trying to ignore the sound. Turning up the TV as loud as it can go, 24/7 until finally the speakers blow and you are left with nothing but that shrill shriek. The demand of the small plastic item that was meant to bring to a comforting memory from the past comes more often. Every four hours, every three hours, every hour until finally when it comes to an end it breathes again.

Screaming into the night tearing away your hearing, your sanity until finally you get up from your spot on the couch. Clothes falling away from your frame as they had grown in the time you sat. The time that you watched.

Each step is agonizing as sobs rack through your body, shaking hands making it hard to reach for the cool receiver.

You press it to your ear and for a final time your mind attempts logic. It is just an automated telemarketer, a glitch or determined program but the thought crumbles as your ears strain to hear the soft breath on the other line.

"Please…please stop." You sob into the receiver when no one speaks. The silence deafening as your mind can no longer keep with the charade.

That everything is okay and has always been okay. That the red flags you studied for a living were never there, washed away by your feigned ignorance.

"Finally got a response out of you." A velvet voice chimes, agitation lacing his syllables, "Gods, I just cannot wait to have you. It was worth it you know? Living in your walls for months."

"Why are you doing this?" Your voice barely a whisper, a soggy huff more than anything.

"I'm glad you asked." You body goes rigid, a haze blankets your mind and smothers the scream tearing up your throat.

"Now walk out the door to me. Don't worry I'll bring your cats back to our home later."

You hang up the phone, body moving on it's own as you walk towards the front door. A door you had chosen to avoid and for good reason. But you should have known the danger lied within these four walls. Although your body feels heavy it moves normally despite you trying to fight it. Or as best you can with your worn down mind.and will. It is not as joyous as a moment for you and it is for the man in the street. His lilac hair is illuminated in the moonlight while his amethyst eyes glow iridescent. His smile is as you imagined, twisted and screwed up in such a way it makes your stomach churn. Lips stretched out almost too far over gleaming white teeth. Your face does not reflect your horror as it stays neutral, only your eyes give you way as tears fall from your cheeks.

The answer was there, under your nose, the devil in the details that you normally saw with your bird's eye view. One you didn't have the luxury of for your own story.

"Come now pet. It's time I finally teach you about what it means to be mine."

EPILOGUE

Everything is hazed over and slow, as if watching an old silent movie through the static and snow of the screen. Trying to read their lips to figure out what they are saying only for the text box to come too late.

"Perfect. Now get on your knees kitten. Open wide." You follow his orders numbly body moving on it's own as he smiles down at you. "God, you're so so perfect."

Long fingers tug at his belt before the shrill of a ring tone cuts through the silence. It is the same sound of your rotary phone at home except with an added element. The foreign sound of your whimpers and pleads for the phone to stop can just barely be heard. He looks down at the cell phone and answers.

"Denki, Baby I know I said I would come tonight. I'm just running late okay?" Amethyst eyes rove over to you and it is then that it hits you. The horror of the realization is like ice water dumped over you as you put two and two together.

The first time you saw him, visiting your neighbor over a year ago. It was such a quick exchange, eye contact and nothing more as his lips were pressed to Denki's.

Your mouth goes dry as it hangs open, slowly it becomes uncomfortable.

He changes his voice to sound like someone else's, someone with a gruff deeper tone.

"Oi quit talking to dunce face so we can finish this shit!" He removed the device from his mouth

"I'll be home after this patrol. Love you bye."

He tosses the phone before gripping your chin to spit into your mouth, his hand rests on the hem of his pants.

"Now...where was I?"

#shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #yandere bnha #shinso yandere #yandere shinso x reader #bnha x reader #bnha harem collab #bnha halloween #bnha spooky

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escapewithbts · 4 years ago

Text

Forgetful - Seokjin

———————————————

You sat at the two person table by yourself just staring mindlessly at the menu. You could probably recite the whole entree list by heart at this point.

The dimly lit restaurant was crowded and filled with noises; dishes clanking, people laughing, the soft tune of music. It would have been the perfect atmosphere… had you not been there alone.

You sighed and glanced at your beautiful (and expensive) watch… one of the many gifts given to you by your boyfriend last Christmas.

It was 8:43. Your reservation had been for 43 minutes ago.

“Excuse me,” the perfect-looking hostess came up to you for the third time and spoke to you in Korean, “but we are super busy, as you can probably tell, and if you’re not going to order then we really need your table.”

You frowned and glanced down at your phone. Still no texts or missed calls.

“I know, I’m so sorry, can I just wait until nine? I don’t know why he’s taking so long, I’m sure he’s on his way…”

“So you’ve said,” she replied with a fake smile, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and walking away.

Wow rude, much?

You stared at your phone, your vision becoming blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You hoped everything was okay with him. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he forgot.

You scrolled through his texts, the last from this morning around 10:30am saying he was beginning the shoot for the latest Run BTS! Episode and he would see you later. You assumed that meant here.

But he never showed.

You touched his contact to give him a call, but again it just rang and rang until you were again met with the automatic voicemail. You sighed and typed him another text.

Hey I’m leaving the restaurant now. I hope you’re okay. Please call or text when you get this.

Then you grabbed your things, stood up and walked towards the exit of the restaurant.

“Oh my god, it’s about time she left,” you heard the hostess whisper to someone as you walked passed her podium, “She claimed to be meeting a member of BTS here for dinner!”

Her snickering was the last thing you heard as you pushed open the door and went back out into the warm Seoul night.

By the time you made it home to your and Jin’s shared apartment you were exhausted and your feet absolutely ached from the heels you were wearing. You unlocked the door and went inside, immediately removing them and rubbing your swollen soles.

All of a sudden, you heard noises coming from the living room. Jin was home?

When you turned the corner there he was, sitting on the couch, laughing at some show playing on the tv and eating ramen from a bowl on his lap.

Your heart sank. He was okay. So what you had feared was true after all. He just forgot.

Forgot your one-year anniversary dinner.

“Oh hi, (y/n)-ah!” he exclaimed when he finally noticed you standing there, a heap of noodles dangling out of his mouth.

He swallowed them and continued,

“Wow, you look really pretty! Did you go out with your friends?”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a couple fell down your cheeks before you could stop them. You tried to swipe them away abruptly with the back of your hand but Jin still noticed.

“Jagi, what’s wrong?”

He set his bowl on the coffee table in front of him and rose from his seat on the couch to walk over to you.

He reached his arms out to hold you, but you instantly stepped back to avoid his embrace.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows confusingly, his large red lips turning into a frown.

“Jagiya? Is everything okay?”

You sniffled and glared at him.

“So you just don’t check your phone anymore?”

He immediately reached into the front pocket of his trousers and pulled it out.

“Aiishh it must have still been on silent from the shoot today. I’m sorry if I missed-”

He stopped mid sentence as he finally observed all your missed calls and read your texts.

His face fell.

“Oh… fuck. (y/n). Shit.”

He looked up at you, an expression of worry and guilt evident on his handsome face.

“(y/n), jagi, I’m so so so sorry. Fuck! I-I completely forgot. I got caught up with work and- ”

You put your hand up to silence him.

“I don’t want to hear it, Seokjin.”

He winced. He knew you only called him by his full first name on two occasions: one when you were really really pissed at him, the other when he was making really really good love to you… and right now it certainly was not the latter.

You brushed passed him and headed toward the hallway. You were tired and hurt, and now to top it all off you had a massive headache. All you wanted to do at this point was take a shower, go to bed and forget this evening ever happened.

But you heard Jin follow you toward your shared bedroom.

“(y/n), please, I’m really sorry. I know there aren’t any excuses. I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.”

You scoffed, not turning back to face him.

“Yeah, you think?”

He paused in thought for a moment.

“Well, what if-what if we celebrate now? I can cook you up some really delicious food, all your favorite foods from home! And-and we can light some candles, have dinner, spend the whole rest of the night together…”

You stopped in the bedroom doorway and swung your whole body around to face him again.

“No. It’s too late, Jin. I waited at the restaurant for an hour for you. I’m exhausted, okay? I just want to go to bed,” you paused, “So please. Just leave me alone.”

Jin’s shoulders fell in defeat as his gaze went to the floor. His arm lifted to scratch the back of his neck.

“O-okay,” he whispered.

Then he squinted his eyes tightly shut, and that was the last thing you saw as you let the bedroom door close in his face.

The warm shower felt amazing on your body, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that plagued your mind while in there. Jin had forgotten arguably the most important date in a relationship. What was next? Your birthday? The next anniversary? It made you feel like your relationship wasn’t important to him, like you were an afterthought. It hurt your heart.

Once you were clean and out of the shower, you changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Your head still ached immensely; you had hoped the shower would have fixed that, but all that overthinking had only made it worse. You knew Jin usually kept some pain medication in his nightstand for when his body was sore after a particularly grueling day of dancing, so you proceeded to his side of the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching for the top drawer.

Immediately upon opening it you spotted a red envelope, “My (y/n)” written across the top in Jin’s messy handwriting. You hesitated for a second whether or not to investigate it, but ultimately, with a shaky hand, you pulled it out. You took a deep breath before opening it and removing the card inside.

In an elegant font, the front of the card read ‘Happy Anniversary to the one I want to annoy for the rest of my days’, and written on the inside ‘Hey, that’s you!’.

You couldn’t help but stifle out a small chuckle, accompanied with an eye roll, of course. It was so Jin. Your Jin.

Your eyes then scanned his handwritten message next.

Jagiya,

Congratulations! You have been chosen by WWH Worldwide Handsome Kim Seokjin himself as the person who gets to be annoyed by him for the rest of your life! Don’t you feel so honored? It’s a coveted position, there’s only one spot, and you got it! We’ll talk about the details later 😉

No, but seriously, my (y/n), thank you for putting up with me for a whole year. I know I can be pretty obnoxious, silly, stupid, goofy, forgetful (ha, he got that one right for sure), busy and sometimes moody, but you have stuck with me through it all and I appreciate it. You are so special and I hope you know how lucky I feel to have you. You’re so supportive and patient and kind. I can’t wait to share many more anniversaries with you.

All my love,

Jin

You clutched the card to your chest, tears streaming down your face again. But this time you weren’t upset. You were touched. His words definitely didn’t excuse what he did (or rather didn’t do) this evening, but at least you knew how he truly felt about you. He really did love you. Your heart suddenly felt full.

You stood up, holding the card tightly, opening the bedroom door to go find him.

“Jin?” you yelled down the hall. But, to your surprise, he was right outside the bedroom doorway, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his long legs spread out in front of him, his phone in his hands.

“Jin I-“

But he quickly stood up and turned his phone to face you.

“Jagiya, look I downloaded an app where you can save all your important dates! And you can set it up for reminders days, even weeks beforehand! So I put in today, of course, and your birthday, but please don’t think I would ever forget that, and the day we went on our first date, the day I first cooked for you, the day-“

He stopped speaking when you suddenly stood on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. He immediately wrapped his around your lower back and squeezed you into him.

“I’m just so sorry, jagi.” he mumbled into your hair.

You nodded against his broad shoulder.

“I know.”

You pulled away and presented the card.

“I found this.”

Jin’s ears promptly turned bright red and he closed his eyes tightly. Then he put his head in his hands.

“Aiissh, it’s so cheesy, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hand on his upper arm, making him glance back down at you.

“No, Jinnie, not at all. It’s perfect. I loved it.”

He smiled, wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes.

“See? I didn’t completely forget! I knew it was coming up. I just didn’t exactly remember when we were going to dinner and I should have-”

You placed your lips on his in a tender kiss to shut him up again. He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were completely touching before you broke apart, still attached at the foreheads.

“Mmm Happy One Year Anniversary, my (y/n)-ah,” he breathed out.

You nuzzled your face into his strong neck.

“Happy Anniversary, my Worldwide Handsome.”

Masterlist

Hehe

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hwangsies · 4 years ago

Text

GALVANISING GREEN

(definition: galvanising (adj): to be affected by something as if by electricity)

pairing: slytherin!hyunjin x slytherin!reader

summary: hyunjin convinces you to break into professor longbottoms greenhouse with him at night, however he didn’t expect you to snoop around and get intoxicated by a plant that doubles as a strong aphrodisiac.

warnings: light angst, bad attempt at lining this up with the generation of harry and co’s children lol, somewhat involuntairy intoxication?, hyunjin is cocky, long flashback again(shocker!) smut as in: implied oral (f receiving), fingering

6.2 k words,

enjoy <3

---

(read part 2 here)

---

"Psst" you furrow your brows as you concentrate harder on the essay you’re writing for your herbology class.

"Pssst" you hear from your right again as you shake your head.

"Pssssst"

"what??" You snap your head to the right to meet victoires green-turqoise eyes before she flicks a piece of paper at you.

'Open' she mouths to you before giggling inaudibly.

You roll your eyes at what your gryffindor best friend might've just wasted 1 good minute of your time on.

Normally you arent this persistent on getting things done instantly, but you know herbology isn’t something you’re talented at.

If there was a word to describe the opposite of a green thumb, you would use it to describe your talents in herbology.

Every plant you try to be nice to (ranging from harmless to deadly), has either died, attacked you or did nothing good for your grade.

So, already slightly pissed off, you open the neatly folded piece of paper.

Her handwriting is awful, and because she hexed it, the font dances around so it takes you a second to decypher what she had written.

Hwang keeps looking at you like you're his next meal, babe!

Once you read it, a scribbled version of the heart eye emoji appears below the words, slowly opening its mouth to have little drops of animated drool rolling down the paper.

You feel the blood rushing up your neck as you look up, across the long table you were sitting at and to the one next to it, where yours and hyunjins eyes meet.

His lower lip is trapped by his teeth, when he realises you are looking back at him, he releases the rosy flesh and chases it with his tongue before trying , yet failing, to hold back a grin.

You look at victoire next to you.

She grinns widely and whispers, almost completely inaudibly "attagirl"

At which you hastily shake your head and stick your tounge out at her before quickly gathering your things and leaving the big hall with victoires quiet snickering still in earshot.

If she only knew, you think to yourself as you rush down the hallway , pressing your books tighter to your chest.

~flashback to three days ago~

You groaned and let your forhead fall onto your herbology book.

'I hate this' you muttered to yourself in a , what you felt like, never ending loop.

"I feel that" you got startled and whipped your head up as a yelp slipped past your lips.

Hyunjin grinned at you before draping a cloak over the chair and taking a seat across from you at a small table in the slytherin common room; his own books in his hand.

You chuckled embarrasedly as you ran your hand through your hair, trying to make you look somewhat presentable for the handsome boy.

"Dont worry, i dont judge you" he smiled and plopped his books on the table as well "stuck on herbology too, huh?" He peeked over.

"Yea, professor longbottom is going to behead me" you joked "i dont get it, how am i supposed to write an essay about my experiences with magical plants when all i ever get them to do is...die, or nothing at all" you shook your head in defeat.

He giggled cutely as he gathered his chin-length blonde hair in a low pony.

You couldn’t help but stare at him, the way the yellowish lights of the doungeons illuminated his features was too perfect.

The feline eyes ,the blunt nose and his thick lips. In combination with his sharp jawline and dark eyebrows, it was easy to be intimmidated by his looks.

You kind of had a thing for him for a while now, but then again so had almost every girl in your year. Him and his best friend james were by far the most good looking guys in your year.

The difference between hyunjin and his best fried however was that his friend knew he looked good and liked it to be known and acknowledged.

Hyunjin was open-minded and sweet, aslo a little shy from time to time, but he also had his cocky moments, especially with girls.

So they weren’t that different, both being players and heartbreakers to a certain extent.

They were popular due to their success in each of their quidditch teams, hyunjin being the seeker for slytherin and james for gryffindor, following in the footsteps of his famous father.

They started out as rivals but became inseperable over time, successfully breaking the stereotype that gryffindors and slytherins couldnt be friends.

Nowadays the only things they’d get competitive about was quidditch and girls.

Even though hyunjin and you were in the same house and year, you didnt have that much to do with each other.

Due to him being more popular and, well, more talented in everything he did; but also because your friendgroups rarely overlapped.

There was this one time in the 5th year where you two were close to becoming friends.

He had asked you for help with his little cousin who had started dating someone you used to be friends with, around that time you noticed that you liked him for the first time.

In the end, his cousin broke up with said boy and you somehow lost sight of each other again.

And so the crush on him kind of faded into the background, it wasnt something you were always thinking about, but you knew it was there when you spoke to him or when he was too close.

But the stories that you heard from other girls kept you from imagining more with him.

"I dont even know what the last plant was that he showed us in class, i always feel like sleeping" he said laughingly, before opening his book and opening his pot of ink as well.

You chuckled softly in response.

You watched him for a few seconds, reading his book, scratching the back of his head and furrowing his brows while his lips pushed fowards in a pout so cute, you would be insane if you didnt want to kiss it away.

After what felt like an eternity, you looked at the clock to see it was already past 11.

Since it was a friday and you didnt have class the next day, you didn't jump into bed immediately.

"This is bullshit" hyunjin muttered and looked up "what the hell do i know about what this plant looks like, i dont even know how to pronounce the name" he groaned, slightly frustrated.

He pointed to the name written in his book and showed it to you “look”

"Oh, i think i've seen this name on a pot in professor longbottoms greenhouse" you recalled.

"Yea?" You nodded at him.

"Okay" he closed his books and stood up "lets go"

"Huh?" You looked up at him confusedly.

"Lets pay the greenhouse a little visit" he grinned.

"Have you gone mad? No way, do you know in how much trouble we could get into?" You asked rethorically.

"Chill, james lent me this" he held up a dark brown cloak.

"What is that?" You asked, just as unbelieving as before.

"His dads invisibility cloak" he answered quickly "come on, we'll stay there 10 minutes tops, i just want to see what that plant looks like"

"Okay, well have fun doing that, alone" you retorted.

"Noo, y/n i need you to show me to the plant, you know where it is" he pouted.

"Please" he was definetly using his charms, which is why you felt so stupid when you sighed an ‘okay’ after he begged a few more times.

You closed your books and got up as well, hyunjin quickly draping the cloak over the both of you.

"You go in the front, you're smaller" he commented.

"Allright" you muttered and moved in front of him.

"We have to be quiet when we go outside, or the fat lady is gonna snitch on us" you felt his breath over your ear.

"okay" you said shortly, getting nervous over the fact that he was this close behind you.

Once out of the commonroom you walked up the stairs managing to do so without tripping over each other and blowing your cover.

Once you arrived on the ground floor, you headed for the back door, which brought you to the garden and the greenhouses.

The moment you reached out your hand for the door handle, it got pushed open slowly.

Hyunjin pulled you back instantly and pressed himself with his back against the stone wall as he gripped your waist with one hand and held the other over your mouth because somehow he sensed how close you were to yelp out.

What he didn't know was how he made the situation worse for you because your back was pressed against his firmly built chest and your lower back against a certain bulge.

"shh" he breathed against your ear, so quietly you almost didn't hear it.

Mr filch groaned as he stumbled inside and fumbled at the doors lock, the door itself still wide open.

You felt hyunjin push against your waist slightly from behind to get you moving, so you complied.

Quickly rushing outside, you got startled at the loud bang of the heavy door falling close behind you two.

He removed his surprisingly soft hands away from your face, his body however didn't move an inch.

You slightly turned around to him in disbelief.

"now what?" you started freaking out, because how were you going to get back inside?

"what?" he asked back.

"how in the hell are we going to get inside again smartass? He locked the door" you gestured with your hand.

"alohomora?" he answered cockily, at which you flicked his forehead.

"you've been here for 7 years and don't know that that doesn't work on the main doors?" you asked infuriated.

"okay, chill. I know some other ways" he said calmly, still rubbing his forehead.

"what do you mean chill?? What other way-" he cut you off.

"just trust me alright?" you couldn't see him well but his eyes still sparkled in the dark.

So you just sighed.

"come on" he carefully pushed you forwards by your waist; you were pretty sure he would remove them after a few seconds but they stayed there until you entered the greenhouse.

He quickly discarded the cloak and threw it onto the big wooden table in the middle of the spacious house, next to a big book on 'advanced herbology'.

"lumos" you said, making the tip of your wand light up; hyunjin mimicing the same thing.

"now, where did you see this plant?" he asked you.

"uh, I think it was over there in the corner" you pointed to the other side of the house.

"okay" he mumbled and made his way over there.

You looked around yourself and looked at some of the plants, when you heard a thump of some sort.

You whipped your head around to look for hyunjin, you spotted him rubbing his forehead.

"nothing happened" he raised his hands playfully.

You sighed in relief "hurry up, and try not to kill yourself"

"why?" you could hear his grin "cause you'd miss me?" he snickered.

"no, because I’d wanna do that myself if we get caught" you retorted, at which he chuckled.

"ah, got it" he said, holding his wand closer to the plant in the far right corner of the house to get a good look at it.

Turning around, a shimmering dark green flower caught your eye, it shined as if it was reflecting the light from your wand.

You took a few steps towards the window sill, the mysterious flower was standing on, in an equally green pot, on which in a deeper green the words 'galvanising green' were engraved on.

It was sparkling, yet there was a glass dome over the flower; which was weird because no other plant had anything of that sort placed over them.

You thought it was so pretty: the way it sparkled, some sparkles leaning more into a teal color, others more in a deep grass green.The stigma, which was protruding out of the petals was pulsating in a dark ocean green, it was as if it hypnotized you. inviting you to free it and take a closer look.

Slowly you lifted up the dome.

"okay lets go" you heard hyunjin speak somewhere in the distance, but it was uninteresting because the flower was drawing you in and nothing else mattered.

"y/n what are you doing" he seemingly came closer, making his way through all the pots and plants standing around.

After placing the small dome on the window sill, next to said flower; you got closer to it with your face.

"y/n!" hyunjin sounded stern "you don't know what that is, stop it"

Still, you took a whiff of the sprakling plant and it felt like a punch against your chest as it flooded through your lungs, throwing you back instantly.

You gasped for breath as you stumbled backwards, right into hyunjins embrace as he leaped fowards to catch you from falling.

"shit" he slowly sat you down on the ground and got in front of you "fuck y/n" he patted your cheek lightly when you coughed.

He looked up at the plant and quickly got up, placing the small glass dome over it again, holding his cloak covered hand over his nose and mouth.

"galvanising green?" he muttered, reading the inscription on the pot before looking back at you sitting on the ground and holding your chest.

Crouching down to you, he held a hand onto your forehead "are you okay?"

You cleared your throat a few times "uh-mh- yea I think so"

He nodded, carefully holding up his wand to look at your face a little better; your cheeks were a little rosy but other than that you looked normal.

"normally we should go to professor longbottom if something like this happens, but he would kill us right now" he chuckled worrily before his gaze fell onto the big book on the table in the middle of the house.

"I'll just check out the plant to be sure okay?" he said, you nodded, smiling embarrassedly.

He got up and quickly got his hands on the thick 'advanced herbology' book, opening the heavy sides and turning the pages.

"I don't even know why I did that" you spoke softly.

"its okay" he said genuinely.

"no, I'm serious, it was as if it controlled me or something" you kept going.

"hmm" he hummed, clearly to busy looking for said plant in the huge book and not listening.

"phhuuuh" you breathed out after a minute of silence and started fanning yourself.

"is it getting hot in here?" you inquired.

"green...green" you heard hyunjin mutter "there it is!" he said.

Tracing his finger under the lines he was reading, his eyes widened.

"fuck" he mumbled to himself and looked over to you, you were plucking at your shirt to get more air onto your body.

"hyunjin" you gasped "im so hot" your breathing getting shallower.

"okay, uhm okay fuck" he repeated himself and reread the little part of the page again and again.

The Galvanising Green plant is a type of flower, first analyzed in 1987, this plant is very rare in Europe.

Its effect on humans is easy to depict. For women it is a strong aphrodisiac where as for men just a small amount of the pollen can lead to severe headaches and diarrhea.

Part of him was glad that he didn't have to go through headaches and diarrhea, but a different part of him would've preferred it; because now he had to handle an extremely horny version of you?

As if the normal you wasn't enough to make him feel some type of way.

He read a little further than that before coming to your help again.

"jinnie" you mewled as you started to take off your slytherin coat.

"stop" he held it up your shoulder "listen" he placed one hand on your cheek as he brought his wand up to your face.

Your pupils were blown and your cheeks were now completely flushed.That, and your continuous ragged heavy breathing told him that you definitely inhaled more than enough pollen to trigger this response from your body.

"what?" you breathed.

"it's a really strong aphrodisiac, that's why you're feeling like this" he tired to stay calm.

"huh?" your eyes widened "oh shit" you let your head fall back.

"how do I make it go away?" you asked breathlessly, grabbing onto his bicep.

"the book says you have to work it out of your system otherwise your body will go into a shock state because of all the pollen and hormones it produces" he tried explaining to you.

"huh?" you sounded again.

"come here, get up. We'll go inside first" you complied.

"what do you mean 'work it out of my system'??" you asked him as you left the greenhouse on shaky legs, hyunjin wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you from falling.

"well" he blushed as he looked down at the invisibility cloak, he had grabbed in the last second, draped over his arm "are you seeing someone at the moment?"

"uh-n-no?" one of your feet gave out for a millisecond but hyunjin caught you before halting you in your steps.

"was that a question or an answer?" he locked eyes with you as he draped the cloak over the both of you.

"a-mh- answer" you stuttered.

"okay uhm" he kept his eyes trained on the secret path back into the castle, james had told him about.

"I'll bring you to your chambers and you'll have to do it alone then" he mumbled.

"alone? What? Do what?" you breathed heavily, suddenly you felt a rush of warmth in your nether regions at which you whimpered.

"you have to..." he cleared his throat "well... work it out of your system" his eyes widened and his head snapped towards you when you moaned.

"y/n? you okay?" you had buried your face in his shoulder.

"shit" he mumbled "here we go" he pointed to a wooden door "just a minute and we'll be inside okay?"

"hmm" you whined.

You walked through said door into a tunnel you'd never seen before; normally you would've scolded him as to why he knew these kind of things but you had other problems right now.

Not a minute later hyunjin tapped onto the wall, which indicated the end of the tunnel, with his wand in a weird pattern.

But somehow it worked and another door appeared, leading the two of you into a small broom closet.

"you have to be quiet now" he whispered, you nodded your head as good as you could and bit your lower lip.

Leaving the broom closet, you stepped into the hallway of the seventh floor of Hogwarts.

"hyunjin, you cant just leave me alone" you whispered desperately when the same tingling warmth returned.

The pollen of the plant overtaking your brain so much that you didnt even care as to how that weird door brought you into a broomcloset that connected to hogwarts again.

"shh" he shushed you before speaking as well "y/n I don't know how else to help you"

That was a lie, of course he knew what he could do.

But that would be unethical; he didn't want to take advantage of you like that.

"you have to help me" you clawed at his coat "please" you whimpered and it went straight into his pants, which he felt guilty about.

Suddenly a door appeared a few meters in front of you, just a second after he'd spotted it, he heard footsteps from behind.

"shit shit, fucking shit" he ushered you to walk faster before quickly opening the door and rushing inside.

When he looked at the door from the inside, it disappeared; leaving only the brick wall.You had already ripped the invisibility cloak off the both of you.

Looking around this mysterious room, he spotted a luxurious king sized bed with nightstands on each side and dimmed lights; that's when he knew where you two were.

"no fucking way" he mumbled, having never before seen the room of requirement.

"hyunjin" his thoughts got interrupted by you dragging him at his coat and stopping right with your back to the bed.

"please help me" you looked up at him with big teary eyes, he could hear your heartbeat, that's how affected you were by the plant.

You discarded your coat, before pushing his down his shoulders as well.

"y/n no" he said, but his coat already laid on the ground.

He caught your wrists when you reached for his belt "y/n you cant think straight, you don't really want this"

"yes I do" you stomped your foot on the ground "I really do" you said quieter as you came closer.

"please jinnie" you freed your wrists from his grip and peeled off your plain black tshirt you always wore under the coat “this is your fault to begin with!”

His eyes stuck to your lacy black bra as you undid the button of your jeans and pushed them down your legs.

He felt his cock stir in his pants when your matching cotton panties were revealed and you stepped out of your jeans, kicking them to the side.

You took advantage of his slow reflexes and looped your arms around his neck "please" you whispered before attaching your lips to the skin under his jaw.

He swallowed hard "fuck y/n" his hands grabbed your waist, making you push yourself against him more flush.

"okay okay" he sighed in defeat, you looked up at him "I'll help you, but we're not going to have sex!"

"hyunj-" you started again.

"y/n I'm serious I don't want to take advantage of you" you swallowed and nodded, eyes big.

"okay" he ducked down a little and plucked you up from the ground by the backs of your thighs.

You squealed in excitement.

"Kiss me" you pleaded after he laid you on your back and slotted himself in between your legs.

His lips were slightly parted as he looked down at you, eyes scanning over your features.

"Okay" he whispered before pressing his lips to your.You instantly moaned into his mouth when his togue pressed against yours.

The next thing you did would've never happened if that plant hadn’t make you hornier than 10000 bunnies.

You took one of his hands and brought it down to cup over your core, mumbling a whiny 'please'.

Hyunjin hissed through his teeth when he felt how soaked your panties were.

He palmed your throbbing cunt roughly, shooting a spark of pleasure up your spine aa he encouraged you to rutt your hips against his hand.

"Oh my- hyunjin" you yelped out after he had discarded your panties and slipped a finger into you.

“okay?” he asked when feeling how tight you were, at which you nodded agressively.It was almost embarrassing how excessively aroused you were ; hyunjin however didnt have alot on his mind in that moment.

All he could focus on was how pretty your flushed cheeks were and how lost you were in the pleasure he was providing you.

His thumb found your aching clit and drew circles over it while pumping his middle finger into you.

"thats it baby, you like that?" He asked a little hesistantly, not sure how you felt about dirty talk, but seeing your chest arch up and hearing your whimpers only spurred him on.

"Hmmmh" you whined "fuck-oh" he looked down at you in awe when your pretty lips shaped into an o form.

"Fuck i'd love to taste you right now, so desperate hm?" He hummed into your ear, it sending straight into your core.

Your back arched off the bed and you clawed at his soft black shirt when his lips found your neck.

"Yes-yes fuck hyunjin-" you cried out when he started sucking at a particular sensitive spot, coming apart shortly after with yelps of his name, clenching around his finger furiously.

"Better?" He asked after a minute, looking down at you, you chest was heaving and a light sheen of sweat covered your body.

"A little" you said quietly.

"Need more?" He asked like the gentleman he was, gently letting his finger slide out of you.

You nodded poutingly as you ran your nails through his hair at the back of his head.

"What you said about tasting me..." you looked up at him shyly "w-would you?"

His eyes widened, would he?

He wanted to, really badly.

So, he heard himself stutter a "yeah" as you unclasped your bra.

The low moan that slipped past your lips when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth made his cock stir in his boxers.

"you're so sexy" he mumbled against your stomach before suckling at the skin just over your belly button.

"take off your shirt" you pleaded, to which he grinningly complied

You moaned when you felt a new heatwave wash over you at the shight fo his toned torso; gasping when the blonde haired boy reinserted his finger into you.

"arh yes fuck" you groaned, grasping his hair when he started leaving wet kisses on the junction of your legs.

Feeling your arousal being at a height as if you didn't just get off again, you whimpered, realising he was teasing you as he switched between thighs.

"please don't tease jinnie" you pouted, he grinned at the nickname, he loved it but would never admit it.

"mmh- what do you want me to do?" he grinned up at you, his fingers moving too slow inside of you for your liking.

"use your mouth" you begged "please" he almost felt guilty for how much he liked hearing you beg for him.

"how could I say no to that pretty pout" he teasingly nipped at your thigh making you squeal.

-end of flashback-

Just as you speak the password to the fat lady and the door opens, you hear running behind you and a voice "hey! l/n"

Of course you recognize the voice, so you sigh and turn around "hwang" you say, plastering a fake smile on your face.

"you've been avoiding me" he grins as he catches up and steps into the slytherin dungeons at the same time.

"hmm have i?" you mumble, not looking at him directly.

"yea, even though you so clearly couldn't get enough of me two nights ago" he bites his lip and raises his brows cockily when you stop and look up at him.

"listen, I was drugged by a fucking plant okay?" you argue "and you even promised me to never bring it up again, so what the fuck do you want?" you ask.

"never bring it up with anyone else babe, I thought we could talk about how much fun we had together?" he reaches for your waist, at which you slap his hand.

"would you not?" you whisper "there are people here" he just chuckles at the way you blushed slightly.

"okay, I'll make it easy for you hwang, what do you want?" you stem you free hand on your hip sassily.

He breathes in as his eyes wander over your face before his lips curl into a smile and he reaches for you hand "come with me?"

You huff but don’t fight his hand enclosing yours "where?"

"somewhere we can talk in private" he states calmly.

So you follow him out once more, you should've known where this was going but only really realise it when he pulls you in a broom closet.

Books still pressed against your chest with one arm, you hiss "what the fuck? I thought you wanted to talk"

"chill miss goody shoes" he giggles before his eyes fall onto your books "gimme those" he mumbles, taking them from you and plopping them on the ground behind him.

"hyunjin!" you exclaim, mad that your books were getting dust all over them.

He just snickers before coming closer.

You involuntarily press your back against the wall because he’s closing in on your personal space.

"what do you want?" you ask him for the nth time, a little quieter this time.His hands find your hips as he wedges a strong thigh in between your legs.

"I missed you" he says quietly, the lighting in there is bad but you can see that his eyes are fixed on your lips.

"huh?" your breath was shaky.

He grins before leaning in slowly, giving you the opportunity to stop him, and when you don't, he presses his lips against yours.

You kiss him back without thinking, your hands finding their home in his long hair when he gently rolls his tongue against yours.

The grunt that comes from him shoots straight into your pants, you feel how he presses his body into yours; the thigh between your legs getting pressed into your sensitive core.

Moaning against his lips at the new friction; he pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth before moving down your jaw with his lips.

You let out a shaky breath when he reached that one spot on your neck, directly under your jaw.He smiles against your skin before sucking on the soft spot at which another moan leaves your lips.Growing desperate, you start rocking your core against his thigh more obviously.

Hyunjin releases the soft skin from in between his lips, grabbing your jaw with one hand as he looks down at you ministrations.

"need something, pretty girl?" he grins, the nickname has you keening; the friction provided by his thigh being nice but nowhere near enough to get you off.

"please" you just mumble before he kisses your lips again.

Together, you undo the buttons of your cloak before he unzips your jeans and slips his hand into your panties.

"w-wait, hold up girl, you're telling me you haven't had sex yet?" victoires gaze bores holes into the side of your face as she sits down across from you on your bed.

There was no way you couldn't have told her about this whole situation you had gotten yourself in.

"no!" you snap your head towards your best friend "we just did a lot of other stuff" you cross your legs to sit more comfortably.

"but I don't plan on sleeping with him anyway" you shrug your shoulders.

"why?" your best friend grins "I thought you were sick of being a nerd and a virgin"

"bitch" you tsked and smacked her calve that was closest to you "you're a nerd as well"

"yea" she snickers "but im not a virgin because I don't feel the need to only do it with someone I'm in love with"

"hmpf" you let yourself fall back onto your back "whats so bad about that though?" you ask more quietly.

"nothing" she lays down next to you "I'm just kidding...but does he know?" you shake your head.

"no, I feel like he'd just call me a prude or miss goody shoes if I told him" you mumble.

"well then he's definitely not the right one to do it with" victoire comments, you just nod.

The next morning you’re sitting in the big hall, chatting with victoire as usual, as breakfast was being served.

Suddenly you felt a woosh of air on your right as someone sat down in a hurry.

"hey l/n" you glace to your right to see hyunjin "hey weasley" he nods at victoire opposite from you and him.

When you look over at you best friend you see that james had sat himself next to her, grinning just as big as the blonde boy next to you.

"uh hi?" victoire speaks for the both of you.

"listen up, we graduate in a few weeks and graduation ball is soon as well..." hyunjin starts, still grinning from ear to ear.

You frown, victoire mimicing your expression, both of your gazed flickering between the two boys.

"..so??" she gestures with her toast in hand.

"so...how bout it?" james continues "let’s go to the ball together" he turns to victore before gesturing to you and hyunjin "and those two"

You giggle when seeing victoires face scrunch up in disgust before she flicks james forehead.

"eww potter, I'm not going to the ball with you, that'd almost be like incest. Plus I'm trying to get laid afterwards" you laugh at james shocked expression to your best friends words.

"what do you mean incest babe? Just because we've known each other for so long doesn't mean..." he keeps on rambling to your best friend as she stands up and turns to you.

"excuse me" she exhales annoedly, you chuckle and nod before she walks away, james at her heels, still talking.

"so what about us?" you flinch a little, almost having forgot about hyunjin next to you.

"uhh, I don't know" you say, looking down at your plate.

"why not?" he nides your arm with his elbow "we like each other" he scooches closer "we have fun together" lifting his hand and softly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he speaks.

You move away from him "yea about that, I think we should stop" you quickly say before getting up to make your way out of the hall as well.

"hey" he catches up with you quickly "why? did I do something wrong?" you roll your eyes as you keep walking.

"I didn't tell anyone about us! I swear! A- and I think y-you know, you're hot, I'm hot; I think we'd look really good toge-"

"can’t you accept a no?" you suddenly stop in your tracks, frowning annoyedly as you tell him off.

"woah- hey I just wanna know why you hate me all over sudden" he looks hurt.

"I don't hate you hyunjin" you sighed "but I also don't like you; you play with girls like they're dolls and when you had your fun you throw them away and I don't want to be thrown away, no matter by who" you breathe in.

"okay okay" he holds up his hands in defense "first of all, everything I had with 'all of these girls' you are talking about" he quotes you, gesturing air quotation marks "was two- sided! They knew what they were getting into, I never lead a single one of them on"

"mhm I'm sure that's why they like you so much now" you speak sarcastically while crossing your arms infront of your chest.

"you're making it seem like I slept with the whole school y/n!... I didn't! just to be clear..." you roll your eyes again.

"Its not my fault when-"

"when what?" you feel yourself get angry "when they fall in love with you?? because you're sooo irresistible??"

"is it so hard for you to believe that I'm not that interested in you? Is your ego that big?" you caught yourself before you got too loud, staring into each others eyes for a few seconds.

When he doesn't react to your statement you turn on your heels, ready to walk away again.

"I kinda hoped you were actually" you stop, turning around to him again when he continues "because I actually like you"

"so that's what you call not leading someone on, yea?" you ask rhetorically.

"I'm not leading you on y/n I'm serious" he walks up to you again.

"you're only interested in me because you haven't actually fucked me yet, hyunjin" you deadpan and walk away for good this time.

"girl" victoire exclaims as she walks into your chambers, you look up from the homework you’re doing on your bed a few days later.

“how do you always get in here?” you ask, reffering to the fat lady being very strict with non-house members in the chambers.

“the fat lady loves me!” she shrugs her shoulders, plopping down on your bed.

"alright, what is it?" you look back down to finish writing your sentence.

"I just saw hwang in the hallway, he looked beat" she huffs "and with beat I mean way way worse than the last few days" she eyes you scribbling something onto your paper.

"hm" you respond.

"what did you do to him?" she asks.

"what do you mean? I protected myself from being just another girl on his list" you continue writing.

"are you sure?" victoire persists "I mean whenever you sat next to each other in class, even after the plant incident...he seemed genuinely happy with you next to him"

"well, sucks for him I guess" you mumble, not looking up, instead turning some pages in your book.

You did feel sorry in hindsight, you shouldn't have talked to him like that. He had always shown you respect and you didn't reciprocate it.

It is just really hard to believe that he'd actually be interested in you, since he was well...kinda perfect at everything and you were just very mediocre at everything.

He is so good looking, and even though he calls you hot and pretty you yourself don't really believe it.

Like,... what do you have that he can’t find in a prettier girl?- "y/n?" victoire speaks up.

"huh??" your head snaps up at her.

"I said... are you sure that you didn't just push him away because you're scared of the fact that you may like him back?"

(a/n: i was inspired by this jungkook fic i read on here like a year ago but i couldn’t find it for the life of me, all i remember is that it was called ‘golden hour’ so if anyone knows what im talking about please tell me so that i can give proper credit! thank u!...also i know the fat lady originally guards the gryffindor common room but i couldnt think of anything else loolll...)

#ik halloween is over but fall is the most hogwarts season there is for me loll anyways..#i left it open for a part 2 if yall are interested #wont be mad if not tho kk #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #skz hogwarts!au #stray kids hogwarts!au #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #slytherin!hyunjin #slytherinhyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin hard hours #skz hard hours #galvanising green

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maxineswritingcenter · 4 years ago

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Halex fem!reader part 14

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

For the first time in a while, I woke up happy. Sure, the situation we were all in was no reason to be happy, but I would take waking up next to Derek over anything. In this moment anyway.

Derek hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his face into my neck. I smiled, turning my head a little to press a kiss to his cheek. He opened his eyes that seemed to sparkle when he smiled.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, pulling his arms away and sitting up. I turned on my back and pouted up at him.

“Someone doesn’t like cuddling in the morning?”

He got out of bed, getting dressed, “Any other day, yes. But I have something to do this morning.” He threw a shirt in my direction. I caught it, got out of bed and dressed myself.

“I’ll remember that.” I took off my clothes that I had worn throughout the night and pulled on Derek’s shirt. It was soft cotton and it smelled like him. It was a little big so it would have to be tied with a ponytail holder. I looked over, seeing my jacket hanging up on the back of his door, “Mind tossing me my jacket?” He grabbed it off the door and tossed it my way. As it flew through the air, an envelope fell on the floor. Derek stared at the envelope and picked it up, looking it over.

“Oh my god, I completely forgot about that.” I took the envelope from his hands. It had some water damage but the words were still readable on the outside.

“The Lunar Circle?” His jaw clenched.

“Yeah, do you know anything about this?” I asked, opening it up.

“Your parents were a part of it.”

“Really?” I grinned, opening up the very official looking letter.

To (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N),

We send our condolences in the matter of your parents passing, all of us here at the Lunar Circle cherished your family and we think of them fondly.

As two of our founding members, your parents were meant to travel to our facility to discuss relations between them and the clan of hunters in your area, the Argents. Since they have passed, this duty falls to you - the sole survivor of your clan.

We will have a messenger arrive soon to bring you to Shetland, in the northern Isles of Scotland. Please pack warm.

We look forward to meeting you,

Sincerely,

Praetor Lachlan McLeod

I read the letter aloud, Derek was becoming more and more stern.

“I mean, it seems like they want me to go whether I like it or not. But I think they would be able to take the rest of the spell away so I could remember.” I smiled and looked up. The smile dropped, “But you don’t seem as enthusiastic as I do.”

“Only werewolves who get invited can go. I can’t go with you.”

"I mean, they probably wouldn't care. You're my partner."

“That’s not the point.” He walked back to his dresser, grabbing his leather jacket that he had draped there.

“Then what is the point, Derek?” He didn’t answer, walking out the door and into the hallway.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” I called, storming after him.

He stopped abruptly in the hall and turned around, “The point is that I can’t be there with you. I can’t stop any of those people from taking you away from me.”

“Are you insinuating that I would cheat on you?” I glared.

“No.” His face softened, “But they could use the spell against you. A condition that they could have would be to break our bond so you can get your memories back.” He held my face in his hands, making me look up into his eyes, “I want you to remember, but I want to be there for it.”

“You said I’m stubborn. Maybe I could convince whoever is going to show up that I need you to come with me.” I smiled, “I’m gonna go home and look through some of the stuff from my house.”

“I’ll call you after I get done here.” He kissed my nose.

“And what are you doing?”

“Erica’s getting Jackson so we can test if he’s the kanima.” He started walking again.

“Uh and what if he is?” I asked nervously, “Listen, I am all for killing him on a good day but you can’t kill him. There has to be a cure.”

“And if there isn’t?”

Rubbing my temples, I thought for a moment. Pros: - No more kanima...No more Jackson... Con: Prison for Derek. Regardless of morals, the kanima was dangerous to everyone.

“Make it look like an accident.”

As I made my way out of the depot, Erica was walking in, dragging Jackson by his bicep.

“Erica.” I nodded, smiling brightly.

“(Y/N).” She smiled back. It seemed like after the kanima attack there was a silent understanding between the two of us.

“Wait!” Jackson called, trying to get out of her grasp, “Wait! (Y/N)!” There was a sick part of me that was going to think about his calling to me for help later and smile.

It was late morning when I got home. Stiles had given me hell through text but that was just how he showed his love. The next thing was to stop staring at the cardboard boxes that held the remaining pieces of my life that had been stashed in my closet. Out of sight, out of mind since I really wanted to distance myself from the memory of my parents death and all of the fact that my parents had unfairly taken memories of my life away. I understand that they did it to protect our family, but at the end of the day... that didn’t seem to make much of a difference.

Time to bite the bullet. I kneeled down in front of the closet and pulled out the box labeled: (Y/L/N) Evidence #24. I looked over my shoulder to make sure the door was closed, then grew a claw on my pointer finger to cut the tape on the box. Was that lazy? Of course, but I think anyone in my position would. I took a deep breath and opened the box. I wish that I was hit with a wave of nostalgia, the smells of home, but all I could smell was smoke.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the sides of the box, “Come on, don’t cry.” I sniffled, trying to keep the tears at bay. Blowing out air, I opened my eyes again. Inside the box were photo albums. I took out the one I recognized most, it was a dark teal color with our last name in gold cursive font. I traced the letters fondly. Opening it up, I saw pictures with my parents from when they bought this house, bringing me home from the hospital, pictures of my parents and Stiles’ hanging out. They all looked so happy, they were laughing and having fun. I lightly touched Aunt Claudia’s smiling face. It was still hard to believe that she was gone, but she was sick... She couldn’t live like that any longer. I flipped through the book, watching Stiles and I grow up. Birthdays, slumber parties. Slowly Scott popped up in the pictures until we became a trio. But Stiles and I were always together. Which made me wonder how much of my life was missing if he was the only friend I could remember.

The rest of the box was documents that had been found in the safe in the basement. It was a miracle that had found the safe since it had been hidden in the wall. Deeds, marriage license, birth certificates, social security. In the next box, there were some of my baby things. But this box has become more interesting. Family heirlooms that I had only seen once when they were being cleaned. At the bottom of the box was a wooden box that I definitely didn’t remember.

“Jack pot.” I smiled and lifted it out of the box. It was a dark stained wooden box with intricate vines and flowers decorating the borders. There was a stamp burned into the top. My last initial in a full moon, stars randomly placed around it.

I opened the clasp, lifting the lid open carefully. There was a glass bottle, sealed with teal wax. The neck of the bottle was wrapped in twine with a bronze charm, on the charm was a wolf. It was filled with dried herbs and what looked to be a lock of hair, my hair. I set the bottle aside, wanting to bring it to Deaton to figure out what was inside. But I was fairly certain this was the spell jar that took my memories away. The next thing inside that I pulled out was a scroll, sealed with the same teal wax and this time the crest was more visible, it was the same crest as on the box.

I carefully removed the wax from the paper to not break the seal, unrolling the papers. The larger of the two was a family tree, more family that I could even imagine that I had, going back ten generations. But the tree got smaller and smaller until I was the last branch. I am the last member of my family. That made me feel more alone than before.

The next paper was more recent looking and it was addressed to me.

𝘛𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, (𝘠/𝘕).

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘶𝘱, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩.

𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯. 𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘞𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴.

𝘉𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 - 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦,

𝘔𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘥

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, making sure my tears didn’t smug the ink on the page. They acknowledged that they did wrong and they were planning on reversing the spell. And seeing my mother’s handwriting again? The best.

In the bottom of the wooden box was a white package that had been faded yellow. The package was labeled with the name of the local pharmacy where you could also get photos developed. I took out the thick stack of photos and gasped. Christmas morning when I was twelve, I was looking up into the camera but my face was hidden by the glare coming from my eyes. Another picture had me with a wrist brace on, a thumbs up and a smile. Then the next pictures lifted my spirits. It was pictures of Derek and I. From the time we were toddlers until six years ago. Smiling, laughing. Some where he was in his basketball uniform, others when I was in my lacrosse gear. It seemed like Derek was just as much a part of my life as Stiles was. There were pictures of me with Laura Hale, we were on the floor cross legged while she sat behind me, braiding my hair. There was another where I was holding a little toddler on my lap, who I could only assume was Cora. There were even baby pictures of me with this woman I couldn’t recognize...but something told me that it was Derek’s mother Talia. Wait, Talia Hale. I never knew that name before. I was starting to remember. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to remember more.

But these pictures were important to what I needed. I slipped them back into the package and grabbed the vial, putting them in my bag.

I started walking down the stairs, feeling happier than this morning, but it all went away when Stiles’ text message. The first was a picture of Lydia at the front of Finstock’s class with someone help me written on the board from an hour ago. The next was a message that had come over that minute.

Stiles:

Isaac and Erica are testing Lydia to see if she’s the kanima... And I think she failed.

I got downstairs and was stopped by Uncle Noah in the kitchen, his arms were crossed over his chest. I was definitely in trouble.

“Hi, Uncle Noah-”

“Where have you been?” Straight to the point.

“Busy. With work and stuff.” My lying was not getting better. I tried to walk past him but he called my name.

“(Y/N)” I stopped, slowly turning around, “I know you’re an adult, but I promised your mom and dad that if anything happened to them that I would protect you. I mean, you’re gone all day and all night. I get vague text messages after hours.”

“I’ve just been busy with work, that’s all. Believe it or not, Coach puts in long hours-”

“Now, why am I having trouble believing you?” He looked up at the ceiling as if the answer was written there.

Probably because I’m lying, I’m actually a werewolf, one of many in this town and we’re fighting a teenage mutant murder lizard that may or may not be Lydia, you know Lydia, the girl Stiles was in love with?

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been working long hours on four murder cases and overworking your brain.”

“Is this about that Lunar Circle thing you got in the mail? What is that thing anyway?”

I sighed, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. If it were nothing, you would say that it’s junk.”

I sighed, “It’s a group my parents were a part of and they want me to go there.”

“To Scotland? No way.” He shook his head.

“What? You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m an adult.”

“You are apart of an open murder investigation where the murderer is still at large. I can’t in good conscience let you leave the state, let alone the country.”

“That’s not your decision to make.” I glared, “I am a legal adult, I am not a suspect, I can leave whenever I want.”

“Not true. As a part of the agreement with your parents, if they were to be killed, I am to be your guardian for six months, no matter how old you are.”

I pulled at my hair in frustration, “That’s ridiculous!”

“Call it what it may, but that’s what your parents wanted.”

“Screw what they wanted!” I snapped, “They took everything from me!”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He barked back. I sighed in frustration, grabbing my keys off the counter and storming towards the door.

“Hey! We’re not done talking!” I kept going, “(Y/F/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), you get back here!”

I opened the door and looked back, “YOU’RE NOT MY DAD! STOP ACTING LIKE IT!” I slammed the door shut and hurriedly got into my car. I gripped the steering wheel hard, the plastic cracking against my palms. I shouted into the wheel, breathing hard to make sure I didn’t turn in the car. After a few minutes and a lot of breathing, the anger turned to guilt. Uncle Noah was just trying to make sure I was safe and what I said wasn’t fair. He treated me like his own and I should appreciate that more. I’m just relieved I didn’t see the look on his face when I shouted at him, I’m sure I would never be able to get his face out of my head.

My cell phone ringing brought me out of my thoughts, I pressed answer and held the phone to my ear.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“(Y/N)?”

“Jackson?” My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“Duh.” He said in his usual douchey way. Just my luck, the last person I wanted to talk to was calling me.

“What do you want, trust fund?” I put the phone on speaker and started driving.

“Look, we need your help. We need you to distract Derek.”

“No problem.” I hung up the phone, driving the short drive it took to get to the depot.

I leaned against the doorway leading into the depot, grabbing Derek’s jacket as he walked out.

“Where ya goin’, Der?” He looked back at me, backing up.

“I was on my way to see you.”

I smiled, “How coinvent. I just got into a huge fight with my Uncle which I’m sure you felt and I found pictures of us together that I wanted to show you.” I held up the package of photos.

We had gone back inside the depot, sitting on his mattress. Derek turned the bottle in his hands to get a look at all the herbs inside, “I can see monkshood, mistletoe, salt. Not sure what the rest is.” He handed the bottle back to me. I filled his empty hand with the package of pictures. He took out the stack. He stared at the pictures for a long time, almost like he was memorizing them.

“I lost all my copies of these photos in the fire.” He smiled as he looked through them, “Did you remember anything?”

“Just one thing.” I handed him the photo and his mother holding me, “I remembered her name, Talia.” He stared at the photo, his face changing.

“She’s so young here.” He whispered. I rested my head on his shoulder, looking at the photo. She was smiling at me in an exaggerated way, her dark hair tucked behind her ear. She was so beautiful. Derek looked over at me, then out the window. He set the photos down slowly and stood up. Shit.

“You were sent here to distract me, weren’t you?” He stared down accusingly. He felt betrayed, a feeling I didn’t like giving him.

“I came here to show you the pictures.” I stood up to face him.

“That may have been what you wanted to do originally, but on your way here they told you to distract me so I couldn’t kill that monster.” He gritted his teeth, moving towards the door at a determined pace. I caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Derek, it’s not Lydia!”

“How do you know that?” He spun around, his gaze was menacing, but he didn’t scare me anymore, “She failed the test, the kanima venom didn’t affect her. It has to be her.” He slammed the door of the depot open, walking out into the night with me hot on his heels.

“And what if it’s something else? You told Scott to trust his instincts and I trust mine, it’s not Lydia.”

“I’m doing this to keep you safe, keep them all safe. Isn’t that what you want?” There was a growl in his voice. I stopped following him, opting to get into my car and speed to Scott’s house.

I pounded on the front door when I got there, praying that they hadn’t completely padlocked the door yet. Stiles opened the door and pulled me inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

“I thought you were distracting Derek.” He whispered.

“I was. He saw through it.” I whispered back. Stiles looked out the window, a grim look on his face. I looked out the opposite window and saw Derek standing outside, with Boyd, Erica and Isaac behind him. I looked back and saw Allison standing in the hall.

“You need to tell Scott to get here right now.” I looked back on the window, reaching over and touching Stiles’ shoulder.

“It’s me. You need to get here right now.”

Allison was staring down at her phone, her other hand occupied with a small crossbow.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked.

“I think...” She paused, “I think I have to call my dad.”

“Are you nuts?” I asked. I mean, what could the pack outside do without drawing the attention of the police, not much. Derek wouldn’t go that far... Or at least I hoped he wouldn’t.

“But if he finds you here, you and Scott-”

“I know.” She cut Stiles off, clearly frustrated, “But what are we supposed to do? They’re not here to scare us, they’re here to kill Lydia.” She said the last part a little quieter. Jackson and Lydia were upstairs doing... whatever it is exs did. I wouldn’t know, my ex was dead haha.... I wish there was therapy for people like me. Were there werewolf therapists?

After staring at the pack for a while, Stiles spoke up.

“I have an idea. Shoot one of ‘em.” Allison and I looked at him.

“Are you serious?” She asked.

“Stiles, if they get in, I’ll handle it.” I said, not really believing myself.

“You can’t take a whole pack by yourself. That’s literally impossible. I think.” He said, “We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it! Or at least give it a shot, right?”

“Okay.” She sighed.

“No, not okay, have you ever heard about how you’re not supposed to poke the sleeping bear. Shooting one of them would be like-like whacking a sleeping bear with a baseball bat.” I said, very not okay with the plan.

"They don't think we're gonna fight, one of them gets hit, guarantee you they'll take off. So just shoot one of them." Stiles said. In theory, yes. In practice, probably not.

She peeked out the window, "Which one?"

"Ummm...Derek. Yeah, shoot him. Preferably in the head."

“Stiles, are you trying to kill me?” I shoved him, having to pull my arm so I didn’t use my full strength. He yelped, holding his arm.

"If Scott's able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can." Allison said, looking out the window.

"Okay, um, just shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two." Stiles and I stared at her like she had three heads.

"I mean three." Stiles said. We smushed our cheeks together to look out the window at the same time. Isaac was missing.

“...Where the Hell is Isaac?" Stiles asked, looking around. Isaac had left his position besides Derek, probably when we were trying to figure out a plan.

“I’m gonna go protect Lydia.” I backed away from the door and ran upstairs, I got into the room right as I heard the crashing downstairs. Isaac had gotten in.

“Why are you here?” Lydia said, she breathing was quick and she was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Me?” I looked around, “Where the hell is Jackson?” I saw Scott’s open window. That slim ball ran at the first sign of danger. I grabbed her hand, pulling her into the bathroom. I closed the door quickly and locked it.

“What’s going on?” She whispered, tears falling down her face.

“Someone’s breaking in.” I lied, “Just stay quiet.” I put a finger to my lips. I could hear growling and shouting, a body being slamming into the door hard. I pressed my body against the door, hoping my body could keep it there.

“Hi-hi- I need the police.” I looked down, seeing Lydia on the phone with the cops. I groaned under my breath, blocking out her phone call to try and listen to what was going on outside.

“Stiles! It’s here!” I heard Allison shout. My eyes widened. The kanima. It was here, it wasn’t Lydia. I backed away from the door and started to unlock it.

“What are you doing?!” She shouted. I held out my hand.

“I’m gonna keep you safe. You have to trust me.” She stared at my hand, “Look, Stiles trusts me. And I know somewhere inside of your cold exterior you know Stiles would never let you get hurt. So if you don’t trust me, trust Stiles.” She stared a moment longer before taking my hand and pulling herself up.

“You will not mention this to him.” She huffed.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I opened the door, leading Lydia through the house and out the front door. And when we got outside, I stared at all of them in confusion.

Isaac and Erica were both on the ground, Derek, Boyd, Scott, Allison, and Stiles were staring at the roof as police sirens were getting closer.

“Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!” Lydia shouted.

"It's Jackson." Scott whispered. I stepped off the porch and looked at the roof, the kanima was on the roof, slithering just out of sight.

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

Read part 15 here!

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anarchy-n-glitter · 4 years ago

Text

Nothing to Fear

Summary: Lake County, Colorado 2011

Dr. Catarina Crane arrives at Mount Massive asylum to check on a patient who happened to be working there. She’s offered a job instead.

Now her friend is missing.

(Warnings: blackmail, non consensual kissing, implied kidnapping)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4

That night, Catarina stood outside the hotel room where J.J. was supposedly staying. She knocked a few times, but received no answer. She felt uneasy, a feeling which she had been experiencing relentlessly for the past few weeks. She hadn’t heard from him since lunch, and now he wasn’t answering the door or his phone. After a few more minutes, she decided to go home.

Her mouth felt dry, and her heart was beating loudly in her ears. She couldn’t stop worrying, she feared the worst. She wasn’t sure why though. For all she knew he was just out and his battery was dead, but something was off. For some strange reason, ever since she accepted the job at the asylum, she had become more paranoid. Every little thing had a horrible reason behind it.

She was Dr. Catarina Crane, the mistress of fear! She shouldn’t be afraid of anything! She was utterly baffled by how quickly fear had taken over her life.

As she pulled into her parking spot, she thought about how the next morning she’d get a call from J.J., and she’d see how completely ridiculous she was being. Or, at least, that’s what she hoped.

But the next day, that call never came.

She sat in the cafeteria, Michelle sitting beside her and rambling about something that Cat hadn’t been paying attention to. Cat thought she was a sweet woman, but at the moment her mind was racing. Little did she realize, Michelle noticed her worried expressions and blank eyes.

“Hey, you look like you’ve been through hell. What’s up?” She asked as her hand grazed across Cat’s. She was right, the doctor had dark circles under her eyes, and although she always did, this time they were much more prominent. Her bun was slightly messier than usual, with her brown curls cascading in individual ringlets. The doctor looked up at her, the pain clear in her eyes this time.

“I think a friend of mine’s missing.” She whispered, not entirely sure of the situation herself. Michelle, despite knowing the severity and awfulness of the situation, looked slightly relieved. Of all the things she thought might have been bothering the doctor, her friend going missing was not one of them. The older woman brought her in for a hug, but Cat didn’t return it. She, for once, was terrified. She wondered how something like this could have happened, and she only hoped he was still alive.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Michelle tried comforting her, but all Cat could do was pull away slightly. The red head looked remorseful, but not much more could be done. Cat had settled on filing a missing person’s report that morning, and she figured she’d wait a bit to tell Harleen and Jack. Hell, maybe she’d tell them first considering the fact that Jack was the best detective Cat’s ever encountered.

“If it’s not too impolite,” Michelle began now that her mind’s started wandering, “how long has he been missing for?”

“Since yesterday afternoon. He came to see me while I was working, I ended up bumping into him on the way to my office. The last thing he told me was where he was staying, then, nothing. I went to his hotel room but he wasn’t there. None of the staff had seen him since that morning.” Cat explained as her eyes welled up with tears. Michelle looked away and bit the inside of her lip. She felt dread wash over her. If Cat’s friend was last seen at the asylum, chances were he was still there. She suspected that someone around there had to know where he might’ve been. She looked back at Cat.

“Maybe we can check the security room? I’ll meet you there after work and we can ask to see yesterday’s footage, okay?” She suggested, to which Cat only nodded. She felt helpless; she felt like him going missing was her fault somehow.

However, Cat wasn’t there after work. Michelle waited for her, checking her watch every few minutes and looking down the hallway both ways, waiting for the brunette to round a corner. She decided to go in alone and check the footage herself. She was sure she could find him with what Cat told her. She walked into the room, and the guard immediately got up. He looked like he was ready for a fight, but when he realized she wasn’t a threat he relaxed.

“I’m just here to check on things.” Michelle explained as she moved closer to the computers. The guard simply nodded, though he still watched her closely. She began to type in the date from the day before, and all the monitors changed to the previous footage, and then Michelle started her search. After a few minutes, she sped up the tapes, only to see Dr. Crane entering Trager’s office.

“Cat what are you doing?” She whispered, almost horrified. She had her own problems with him, though she was going to take care of that soon enough. She only hoped that Dr. Crane was careful around him.

Meanwhile, Dr. Crane was still held up in her office. A few patients had made it hard for her to finish up before her shift was over, even though she found it impossible to focus on her work. Her mind kept wandering toward J.J. and Michelle, who was no doubt waiting for her by the security room.

Her hands worked quickly to organize the files in front of her. Beside the folders were her notes, spread lazily along the side of her desk, with the only difference between the two things being her cursive handwriting and the bold, stiff typewriter font. When a shadow came over the window of her office door, she barely thought about it before allowing them to come in. Naturally, she was rather annoyed when she realized that the person waiting outside her door wasn’t Michelle, but instead Richard Trager.

He walked in with a large smile on his face, with a dazed look in his eyes. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was high. He stopped mere inches from her desk, and she knew he was looking down at what she was so preoccupied with. She couldn’t help but wonder why he was there and what he wanted. She already told him off, and he had no reason to be on her floor, so why the hell was he there? She placed the files away in her desk drawer and began to organize her notes, placing them in a special folder that went in a completely different drawer.

“What is it now, Mr. Trager?” She asked, though this time she sounded more tired than annoyed.

“I heard the IT girl was looking for you.” He answered rather casually, and when Cat looked up he wasn’t looking at her. She was rather surprised by this, and for a moment she wondered if she was projecting the idea that he was obsessed with her onto him. Perhaps it was her who was obsessed with him.

“I know Michelle’s waiting for me, I just needed to finish some things up in here.” She explained, her voice carrying none of the hostility it normally did.

“Well what’s she looking for you for?”

“It’s nothing too important.” She muttered as she stood, making her way around the desk. He grabbed her wrist gently, yet this was still enough to make her arm break out into goosebumps as a shiver went down her spine. It wasn’t because his hands were cold (quite the contrary, his hands were rather warm and inviting, much to Cat’s dismay), she felt fear take over again. She wanted to tear herself away from him, but for once she wanted to see where this would go. She wanted to see what was so important he felt the need to stop her, felt the need to put his hands on her.

“She said you were looking for someone.” He stated clearly and confidently. His brown eyes were equally as intense as they were caring. Cat had no doubt that he was being insincere, and considering the fact that he was suspect number one with this missing persons case? She had no doubt he was trying to clear his name.

“I am.” She whispered, though this wasn’t what she intended to do. She pulled her arm away and turned away from him, half tempted to run to the door. She was done with the conversation, whether he liked it or not.

“Hey, is it that guy from yesterday by any chance?” He asked, which of course froze Cat in her tracks. She whipped around, a look of fury on her face and a finger pointed in his direction.

“I could help you find him. I saw him this morning.” He said before she could get a single word out. Her eyes narrowed and she grit her teeth, fighting the urge to spout accusations at him that she knew he’d deny.

“But,” he continued, and she balled a fist, fearing what he was going to say next, “if I help you I want you to go out to dinner with me and a friend of mine.” There it was. She wanted to yell at him; she felt as if she could spit in his face.

“Is that it? This is your trump card, huh? You use my missing friend against me?” She seethed, her voice laced with venom and pent up anger. She could punch him.

“I’m the only person who saw him today, Dr. Crane.” He spat, and her title felt foreign on his tongue. He’d only used it a handful of times, yet in this instance it felt far too formal. He loomed over her again, though this time frustration was clear on his face.

“From what I know, he had a meltdown shortly after your little meeting yesterday. He was admitted. I don’t know where he is in the building but I figured I’d ask Jeremy. It might take a while, but I can get him back for you. The least you could do is take me up on my offer.” This information was valuable, too valuable for her to file away for later while she screamed at the person she hated in this world most. From what she knew, a friend would be at dinner with them, they wouldn’t be alone, and while she found him insufferable, at least there’d be someone else there.

She looked up at him, hatred brimming in her bright, blue eyes, and whispered.

“What was that? Sorry, doc, you’re muttering.” He taunted. She bit the inside of her cheek hard, drawing a bit of blood.

“Fine.” She said finally, feeling as if she just sold her soul to the devil himself.

He stood there for a moment, staring at her with a wide smile on his face, but it didn’t take too long before his chapped lips were on hers. It was an uncomfortable kiss that lingered for a second too long. His hand rested on her cheek, pulling her closer to him despite the obvious fact that she wanted nothing to do with him. Her hands were on his chest, pushing slightly at first, only for them to grow more forceful the longer he had her trapped there. With one last shove, he gave, though his fingers trailed down to her chin, where he forced her to look up at him.

“I knew you had it in you, Cat. I’ll see you Friday night, and I’ll find that guy for you.” He winked before waltzing out of her office.

Cat stood in the middle of the room, alone, frozen with fear and disgust. Her hands immediately shot up to her face where she rubbed her lips on the backs of her arms. She felt like she was going to puke, not only from the utter repulsion she felt, but from the fear that crept up her spine and soaked her very being. She was entirely unprepared for what laid ahead of her, but she was willing to endure to get her friend back and make sure he was safe. After all, she was Catarina Crane, mistress of fear, and she was not someone to be trifled with.

#outlast x reader #outlast #outlast fanfiction #outlast fanfic #richard trager x oc #richard trager x reader #richard trager x catarina crane #richard trager #dr catarina crane #nothing to fear

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thegaylink · 4 years ago

Text

More Than Chemistry

What will happen when Alex and Willie get paired up for a chemistry project? A subject that Willie excels at, but Alex, well, he tries his best.

Chapter 1

Alex tried to stay focused, but in chemistry, that was very difficult. He didn’t want to zone out, but the class was unnecessarily complicated and the teacher’s voice was just so monotone that it made him want to scream. He had been day dreaming for the first 20 minutes of class before he snapped out of it to see the words “First Semester Chemistry Project” written in messy handwriting on the board. Crap. The one day he zoned out was the day of a project. He started to listen to the teacher’s instructions.

“This project is forty percent of your first semester chemistry grade, so you and your partner need to make sure it’s your best work, which means no slacking off or waiting until the last minute,” she said. Partner? He really did miss a lot. Luke is in this class though, so as long as he could choose his partner he would be good.

“I will read you the list of partners after I finish explaining the project,” well, so much for that. Alex looks around the class. Despite being in the class for months, he still didn't know anyone other than Luke, and he wasn’t fond of human interactions outside of his small friend group. He ended up zoning out for a few more minutes before finally snapping back out of it to listen to the rest of the instructions.

“Alright, and now your partners. We have Andy and David, Sarah and John, Luke and Brad, Tina and Erin, Gwen and Nelson, Alex and Willie, Jackson and Leah, and finally, Jason and Bella.” She finished the list off just a few minutes before the bell rang. Willie? Who was that?

The bell rang and he walked outside. He was supposed to be meeting Julie and the guys at Eat-n-Beats to talk about gigs and songs. It was only about a ten minute walk, so he didn’t feel the need to ask for a ride. He was almost there when he heard someone yell something along the lines of “beep, beep” before he was suddenly face first on the cement.

“Aw, man, you dinged my board,” he heard a voice say as he started standing back up.

“Dinged your- dude! You ran over me! What the hell!” he said, now fully standing up.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry about that, I probably should’ve slowed down” the other guy said unclipping his helmet and taking it off. Well fuck, there goes any chance Alex had at a successful human interaction. Saying the boy was attractive was an understatement. He grabbed the strap of his fanny pack to keep him focused.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry for running into you. I wasn't paying attention, it's my bad,” he started, but honestly, Alex really didn't process much of it. The boy picked something up off the ground and handed it to Alex. His backpack, more specifically. He must have dropped it when he fell.

“Oh, um, thanks,” he managed to say, grabbing the back and putting it on over his shoulder.

“Yeah, no problem. I’m Willie, by the way, Willie Roberts,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Oh, um, Alex,” he said, shaking Willie’s hand. “Alex Mercer.”

“Cool! You go to Los Feliz?” Willie asked, as he took his hand back and picked up his skateboard

“Um, yeah, yeah I do. How’d you know?”

“There's a patch on your bag. Also, I’ve kinda seen you in my chemistry class, we’re partners for the first semester project.”

“Oh, um, cool. Is that why you ran into me or..?”

“No! No, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to run into you, but when I picked up your bag I kinda pieced it together.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, um, anyways, I’ll catch you later!” he skated away and Alex didn’t know if he should be scared or happy. On one hand, it's nice to know who is partner is for the project, on the other hand, well, Willie was very attractive and Alex was not looking forward to embarrassing himself in front of him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked to Eat-n-Beats to meet the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Someone's happy,” Julie said as he sat down at the table after ordering his coffee.

“What happened?” Bobby asked, looking up from Lukes song writing journal.

“Nothing! What makes you think something happened?” he asked, maybe a little too quickly

“Um, maybe the fact that you’re smiling bigger than the Joker at the moment.” Luke said

“Or the fact that you look like Reggie after he sees someone walking a puppy.” Julie added

“They’re so small!” Reggie practically squealed.

“Okay, so maybe something happened,” he started. He told them the rest of the story and they all looked at him.

“Okay, so someone ran over you with a skateboard, you thought he was cute, and now you’re dopier than Luke was after he drank half a bottle of vodka thinking it was water in eighth grade when he had the flu?” Bobby asked

“For the love of god, that was one time!” Luke exclaimed

“That’s not what happened! Well, okay, fine, that's kinda what happened. But I do not look that dopey!”

“You do look pretty dopey,” Julie added

“Can we change the subject? Luke, how's the new song coming?”

“Great! It should be done soon, I just need to figure out some lines for the bridge!” Luke exclaimed, handing him the notebook. He accepted it and tried to read the page.

“Luke, what does this say?” he asked, pointing at a word written in Luke’s god awful handwriting

“It says ‘Bridge’!”

“Why do the letters look like that?”

“Because the B the D and the G all look the same when you guys write it and my dyslexic brain can’t deal with that!”

“I- why don’t you just capitalize them?”

“Cause that would look funky.”

“And this doesn't?”

“You all are just jealous that I came with my own font.”

“You don’t- okay,” Alex let out a defeated song as they continued discussing the new song and possible gigs for the month. They left about 2 hours later and Alex found himself thinking about Willie way more often than he probably should have. He chalked it up to just being nervous about the project and called it a day. That's all it was, nothing else, right?

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp au #willie nolastname #willex #willie jatp #alex jatp #alex mercer

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holdmyowos · 4 years ago

Text

Studying (Karma x Reader)

Includes: Mentions of violence, minor cussing, a very slightly racy scene...

You had really been falling behind in the class. It was not like you were not trying, it was just that you had been sick for the past few days. When you finally got back to school, you were totally lost. Your best friend, Nagisa had noticed your distress and offered to help you after school. Relieved, you humbly accepted their aid in your endeavors. You texted your family, asking if it was okay to be home late. Kuro-sensei dismissed the class, and the other students started packing up to go home. You approached the teacher. "Kuro-sensei, would it be okay if Nagisa and I stayed here after school today to study together?" He bent down and gave you keys with a smile. "Helping each other out is a great idea! I have a movie to catch, so be sure to lock up when you're done." He waved with one tentacle arm at you in farewell. You waved back.

When you turned around, all of your classmates were gone except Nagisa "He said yes!" You jingle the keys in your friend's face. He lets out a small laugh. "Great, let's start." You get out your books, then feel a vibration in your pocket. You pull out your phone. 'Sure. Just be home as soon as you're done,' The text read. You put the phone back.

After three long hours of studying with Nagisa , you were all caught up, except in your writing. You pulled out the materials for your last subject area, about to hand them to Nagisa. He took your hand, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I have something I need to go do. I need to go do it now." You nodded in understanding. "Maybe Kuro-sensei will be back to help me with this last bit. Anyway, you've been a huge help! Thanks a lot, Nagisa!" He smiles on his way out. "Don't forget to lock the door when you're done!" He calls. "I won't!"

You struggle for a few minutes trying to figure out how to write some of the new kanji in your textbook, and what they mean. You let out a frustrated sigh, and notice the sunset, the land begining to become dark. You glance at the clock. It was nearly seven, so you should head home soon. Obviously, you would not be able to do this part of your work on your own. Your eyes wander the classroom, pondering what you should do, and your gaze happens upon a shadow in the hallway. A human's shadow. Was it Nagisa? What would he be doing back here though? "Who's there?" You call, nervously. What if the person was a newly hired assassin, and they thought you were Kuro-sensei?

A person steps out of the dark hall and into the classroom's light. The flash of golden eyes. The glossy red hair. The slim build. The black-and-white top. That cocky smile. "Oh, Karma. It's you! I was wondering who could be possible be lurking about a school at this time." True, you did not know Karma very well personally, but he was one of Nagisa's best friends, and you trusted Nagisa's character judgements. You had known of him since you were little, but had never really worked up the courage to really talk to him very much, aside from school projects and things. "You're Nagisa's friend, right? (Y/N), was it?" You nod. "Well, any friend of his is a friend of mine."

He held out his hand for a handshake. This sent up some red flags. The only other time you had seen him give someone a handshake was when he exploded Kuro-Sensei's hand with bits of knives on his hand. Reluctantly, you shook it, hoping for the best. "Why are you so nervous? I'm not going to do anything. I was just curious why the lights were still on in the school building this late is all. When I saw the door was still unlocked, I thought this could be an opportunity to surprise our teacher with a 'present'." He held up a small blade. His eyes looked really threatening. Then again, you supposed that they always did. "Oh. Well, sorry to disappoint. He went to catch a movie, though it should be over by now. I'm just here trying to figure out this kanji." You gestured to the mixed up symbols on your paper.

"Well, I can help with that. I am pretty good at writing, after all. Some say my handwriting is like a beautiful font." He looked at your handwriting and whistled. "Wow. This... needs some work. This part needs to be straightened..." he pointed to a smudge of your ink on the paper, "...and this part needs to be longer, and this part needs..." his words faded into the background when he took the pen and guided your hand's pen strokes with his gentle but firm, careful but capable, hand over yours. The writing you both made was beautiful. He let go of your hand after writing a few sentences with you. He put his head on your desk in a cute position, the soft side of his face against the book. He looked dreamy. "You seem distracted, you can't focus or learn well if you're distracted. What's up?" You shake your head. There was no way you would admit that you were crushing on him hard. "Nothing. Just wondering what Nagisa's doing." He doesn't pry into your buisness, but rather nods his head. "Preparing a trap for Kuro-Sensei, perhaps. I think that's what I saw him doing."

He helps you finish the rest of the writing, and goes over a few of the things Nagisa was not sure about. As it turns out, Karma is a straight A student, and is only in class 3-E for behavior reasons. You look outside, then at the clock, realizing the time. Noticing your gaze, Karma says: "Oh my! Looks like it's dark already. I guess you should head home, right?" As much as you wanted to spend your time with him, you nodded. If you stayed out much longer, you would get in trouble. You put your finished papers on the teacher's desk, and the books back on the shelf. Placing your backpack securely on your back, you walk out of the doors, Karma following You closely. You lock the doors of the school and turn around to face the night that had fallen.

He helps you finish the rest of the writing, and goes over a few of the things Nagisa was not sure about. You learn that Karma is a straight A student, and is only in class 3-E for behavior reasons. You look outside, then at the clock, realizing the time. Noticing your gaze, Karma says: "Oh my! Looks like it's dark already. I guess you should head home, right?" As much as you wanted to spend your time with him, you nodded. If you stayed out much longer, you would get in trouble. You put your finished papers on the teacher's desk, and the books back on the shelf. Placing your backpack securely on your back, you walk out of the doors, Karma following You closely. You lock the doors of the school and turn around to face the night that had fallen.

Usually, you would have been terrified to walk home all by yourself in the dark, with only small lamplights few and far between on the side of the mountain. With Karma, you felt comforted. He would protect you, right? He was an expert in combat. You glanced up at his face, obscured by darkness. "You have a really cool name. It suits you, Karma Akabane." He smiled. His smile was so cool. His canines were so sharp, it made him look like an animal. Or a demon. "Thanks, (Y/N). I like it too." For a while, the two of you strolled in comfortable silence along the mountain path. The insects and nocturnal birds were particularly loud out tonight.

Karma took out his green knife and flipped it, always catching it by the handle. "Pretty impressive," you told him. He laughed. "That? I knew that even in primary school. It's easy." Even his basic moves were beyond you. "Since the blade is mostly silicone, you can just flip to your heart's content. You can't really injure yourself with one of theses, after all." He bent the soft, flexible tip. "You're so cool. It seems like there's nothing that you're bad at. Well, you get in trouble pretty often, I suppose. And you don't really have good social interaction with anyone other than Nagisa. But I mean, Nagisa gets along with anyone." Surprisingly, he nodded. "Agreed. But, I did just help you with your homework, didn't I? That's... something, right?" You nodded. "Well yeah! Your pros way outweigh your cons. You're handsome, smart, funny, and you likely have the highest chance of killing Kuro-sensei. Besides, when it comes to reading people, you never seem to miss anything." You blushed slightly. Was that over the top? "Well, what makes you special is that you always stand up for me. Even thought you don't know me very well, you believe in me and support me. Like my own personal cheerleader. It's nice. I never had anyone do that for me before." He became lost in thought.

A strange booming noise made you jump. From your classroom, you recognized that sound. A gun being discharged. Karma motioned behind a bush. You followed him quickly. He pulled you in and your heart raced. His eyes scanned over the bush to see what was going on. How could anyone harm you when you were with him? Pulling you close like this, it was almost like a hug. He was just being a protective friend, you told yourself. He ducked down behind the bush with you and put a finger on your lips. His hands were so pretty, perfectly manicured. How odd for a boy. "Ha! I shot you, Kuro-sensei! Thanks to the trap that Nagisa made." Relief flooded your senses. It was just one of your classmates. "Well, I regenerate so you have to do batter next time. Shoot me at least five times, and maybe you can do some real damage." The person sighed. "Oh come on, give me some credit!" The noises shuffled away.

Seeing that you were out of danger, Karma released you from his hold and looked down at you with that intense gaze of his. It was hard to meet his eyes. He took his finger off your lips, and I bing his thumb and index finger together. "Why didn't you pull away from me? I was holding you so closely. It was a little weird." How was he not blushing after saying something like that? He had to have at least some idea, right? You felt your face heat up, sure it was bright red. "R-really? I h-hadn't noticed. Perhaps I thought you were... um, part of the bush." That was by far the dumbest thing you have ever said in your entire life, you decided.

"Don't lie to me. You just said I don't miss anything." He put his finger back on your lips and traced them gently. His finger was so soft against your skin. You gulped. "What was with you clinging to me for protection? For an assassin, you sure look weak." He took his hand and cupped your jawline. "(Y/N), the way you react to my touch, the way you lean into me... do you happen to be in love?" You were paralyzed. How would he react if you told him the truth? "I-I'm sorry," You merely said, at a loss for words. "Don't be. This is a great learning opportunity. Besides, damn, you're kinda freaking cute." He left you breathless as he pulled you in for a kiss, his body heavy against yours. He gently pressed his hips on you. You pulled him in closer for another kiss.

You reflected on the night when you finally got home. Weather he loved you back or merely wanted to learn about romance was beyond you. Well, if he had wanted to only take a 'learning opportunity', the he would have gone to Miss Bitch and asked her. Besides, he even helped you with homework. A small smile played at your lips. He must like you back, at least to some extent.

#Xreader #karmaxreader #karma #karmakabane #karmaakabane

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mercurryblack · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 10: Hattie

The night is but young.

❃❃❃

“Are you done yet? Are you done yet?” Hattie asked, squirming as she repeated her question for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“For the thousandth time, no, I’m not done yet. Stupid three thousand word count.” Cait groaned, slouched over their desk. “I swear, the day I graduate, I’m gonna kick Professor Rook square in the junk… boring old bastard… ”

“Sorry, time’s getting away from me.” Hattie apologized. “You’re still using that trick I told you about?”

Cait shrugged. “Even if I don’t count it as I go, it still feels like I’m never gonna finish it.”

The two had been spending the entire evening in their dorm room; Cait had been working on their assignment since the moment the Armilde sisters had left, and Hattie had been trying to keep herself busy by dusting, staring outside, dusting again, and even going as far as to read a lesson they hadn’t yet covered in class.

Tossing the Modern Remnant History textbook to her side, Hattie fell back on her bed spread-eagled, disappointed at the evening so far. She regretted how she had never really fostered a social life outside of Haven Academy— or much less her team, for that matter.

She had grown up as a ward of the underground Sisterhood, mostly keeping to herself and her small collection of fairytale books back then. Having dwelled for so long down in the habitable mine tunnels that the Sisterhood called home, she had recently found herself wanting to explore the world outside more often, if only to make up for lost time.

Those extracurricular lessons with Professor Gormlaith don’t count, she mentally noted.

Hattie didn’t have many friends, either— ironically, the happy-go-lucky girl could be a lot more introverted than extroverted at times. She knew a few students in their year by name, but not enough to warrant anything closer than a “hello” in the hallways. Plus, she didn’t find it to be much fun going out without her friends, which essentially consisted of LLAC and pretty much nobody else.

Well, there is CMYK, she thought to herself, remembering the team of now-second-years that they had tutored in the previous semester. I bet ol’ Mallow or Kara would have been free at this hour… but they’re all over in Vale helping with the set-up for the Vytal Festival, lucky dogs.

And since Lillian and Amaryllis were out doing their own things, she was left cooped up with Cait, who had been taking their time in writing an essay she had already finished.

“…Don’t you have anywhere else to go, Hattie?” Cait asked, glancing over their shoulder.

Hattie turned, wilting slightly as she did. “Should I leave you alone?”

“Nah, it’s not that.” Cait replied. “I just don’t want you to feel stuck here with me, y’know? You could go if you wanted to.”

Hattie shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t really wanna. I’d prefer to wait for you rather than leave by myself.”

“Fair. Are we going somewhere after I’m done, anyways?” Cait said, turning back to their writing.

“I don’t know. I mean, Ammy said we can come down to her boyfriend’s family’s charity event, but it sounds kinda formal.” Hattie said, then shook her head. “I’m not in the mood for formal tonight.”

“So you don’t have a plan for this evening?” Cait inquired.

“I was kinda hoping you had that part sorted out,” she said with a lopsided smile. Having hung out with them the most, Hattie had always left the ideas up to Cait— they did always know where to go for a fun time. Also, she tended to worry that she’d make a big plan and it would turn out to be a flop.

Lost for any follow-up, she wondered aloud, “What do you think Detective Yuen and the old guys are up to now?”

“Probably living their nice and worry-free adult life.” Cait said sarcastically.

“Do you think we should give them a call? You know, check up on them?”

“Nah. I’m sure they’re doing fine on their own for one night.”

Hattie grabbed her Scroll from the far edge of her bed and waved at Cait, sticking out her tongue. “I’m gonna do it anyways! What if they’ve finally found the bad guys or something?”

Cait rolled their eyes. “Whatever you say…”

***

Sardion paced back and forth in Yuen’s office, his gaze fixed on the vinyl floor. The day had been yet another bust— Rudyard had hung back at Yaara’s house, while Sardion and Yuen, with little else to do, had returned to the precinct.

“I’m just saying, don’t you think we should give LLAC a call?” Yuen suggested. “They’re part of this investigation too, and we could really use some help right now. Plus, they might see something we’ve overlooked.”

“They’re having a night off, Yuen. I’m sure they have better things to do.” Sardion replied. “You don’t want to tire the young’uns out before they even graduate, right?”

“Maybe.” Yuen sighed. “Hear anything from Rudyard?”

“Not yet, but he said he’d call if he found anything to go on.”

***

Rudyard stared up to the inky heavens, taking in the starry night sky from Yaara’s old lawn chair, a half-empty bottle of beer loosely grasped in his fingertips.

In the backyard of her humble home, the Huntress had cultivated a small flower garden. In the back of his mind, Rudyard reflected on the visits he had paid her, how she had meticulously tended to them every day; thoroughly watering them, rooting out any weeds, gently humming while she kept her garden impeccable.

Now, seeing as their owner had been dead for a week, the garden had slowly begun to die as well. The bright petals and leaves of the flowers had begun to fade and wilt from a lack of water, and weeds had taken over a small patch of dandelions.

Rudyard rose to pick up a rusty old watering can on the back veranda, then filled it up with a nearby hose. As he let the water trickle down onto the garden’s parched soil, he let out a long sigh— after all she had done for him, it was the least he could do. Eventually emptying the can, he opted to go back inside, as the night air started to grow colder.

Searching for a spot where the police hadn’t tagged or taped anything of interest, he made himself comfortable in a reclining chair in her personal study. Looking around, a single book lying on her desk caught his eye, the tip of a torn sheaf of paper stuck in the pages halfway through. The title on the cover read Eternal Blue Sky, luminescent gold font on a pastel blue background.

“Of course.” Rudyard chuckled to himself. “You would have hated this, Yaara, leaving a book unfinished.” Absentmindedly, he picked up the book and opened it up to the bookmarked page.

He paused.

Written on the scrap of paper in what was unmistakably Yaara’s handwriting was a short message; 1100 apr 23 for further details - stored on hosaki comm log 1138.

“April…?” Rudyard muttered, squinting at the writing. He remembered that April 21st had been the starting date of the last mission on her and Berilo’s record, and it had been marked as remaining within city limits.

He had never heard of a place called “Hosaki” anywhere in Mistral City.

Frowning, he tucked the sheaf of paper into his pocket and rose from the chair, reaching into his pocket. “Wonder what Yuen’ll make of this.”

He paused, fingers fumbling inside an empty pocket.

“…Where’d I put my Scroll?”

***

“Do you know of any other places they might have escaped to?” Sardion asked as he took a closer look at the map of Mistral spread over Yuen’s desk, doing his best to focus despite his inner restlessness slowly clouding his mind.

“Besides the forest, nothing, and if that’s the case then they’re likely long gone by now.” Yuen said, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe the Manju-Shage District, but I doubt it. The whole thing’s cordoned off by a tripwired security fence. There’s no way someone could’ve broken in without us knowing about it.” She continued, tapping her fingers against the armrests in mild frustration.

“Well, maybe they could’ve snuck in, if they had the right Semblance for the job. At this point, I’m ready to try anything if it means we might find a lead,” Sardion paused, sharply exhaling, “Any step we take, no matter how small, is at least a bit closer to the whoever’s behind this.”

“True.” Yuen said, glancing up at him. “After all, there’ve been times that thugs occasionally get the great idea to break in and squat there, to lay low or whatever… you want to check it out, just in case?”

“Might as well. I’ve already got my weapon on me.” Sardion shrugged. “I’ll call up Rudyard first, see if he’s up for it.” He pulled out his Scroll and sent a call to Rudyard’s contact.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. A small buzzing hum came from beneath a stack of papers on the right of Yuen’s desk. The Huntsman and the detective exchanged confused looks, before realizing what was making the noise.

“Oh, for the love of…” Sardion muttered, sticking his hand underneath the stack and pulling out a Scroll— Rudyard’s own. “Perfect time to forget this, you freakin’ cueball…” He stuck his Scroll back in his jacket and tossed Rudyard’s onto Yuen’s desk.

“Okay, well, that’s a bust… like I said before, we could call up LLAC.” Yuen suggested.

Sardion was inclined to disagree with her, given that it had been the students’ night off— calling them in for duty at such an hour wouldn’t be the most gracious move. However, he figured that they’d best bring some backup, if only to cover more ground if nothing else.

“Alright, go for it.” he said.

Yuen took out her Scroll and pulled up Lillian’s contact. “Here goes. Hope for the best.”

***

“Why do I always have to be the one to make the food?” Rosario asked, swinging her now-empty basket from one hand as she walked alongside Lillian down the cliffside path.

“You’re a great cook, and I can’t even season my food correctly.” Lillian replied. “Do you remember the last time when I tried to make instant ramen unsupervised?”

“Point.” Rosario said. “You did literally set a pot of water on fire. I’m no scientist, but I’m pretty certain that violates every law of thermodynamics that there is.”

Lillian nodded. “See?”

“Riiiight.” Rosario drawled. “Imagine what adult life would be like. Every night, it’ll just be me greeting you, ‘Welcome home, mi amor! What do you want first? Dinner? A bath? Me?’ And then you’ll go, ‘I’ll have you for dinner in the bath!’”

“I know you’re trying to make fun of me, but you’re drooling, Rosario.” Lillian said, giving her girlfriend a flat stare.

Rosario flushed red, wiping the corner of her mouth. “I am not.”

Lillian snorted.

***

“Damnit, her Scroll’s turned off.” Yuen groaned. “Her sister’s offline as well.”

“Thought so. They have private lives too, you know.” Sardion shrugged, slinging his coat over his shoulders. “C’mon, might as well see if any airships are available and just get this over with.”

Yuen rose from her chair. “Fine. I’ll leave them a message if we do find anything.” Just as she was about to follow Sardion out, her Scroll suddenly vibrated in her coat.

The profile picture that displayed the caller wasn’t Lillian— rather, it was the Lazuli kid calling her.

It’s something, I guess. Yuen thought to herself, swiping to accept the call.

“…Hey, Detective Yuen.” Hattie chirped up on the other end.” How’s it going? It’s Hattie from, uh, Team LLAC. Uhm, we just wanted to check in, and—” She continued, stumbling slightly over her words.

“As a matter of fact, I’m glad you called.” Yuen replied. “Listen, Sardion and I are going to investigate a possible lead down in the old Manju-Shage District, and your help would be very much appreciated.” She hesitated before continuing. “That is, if you’re not already preoccupied.”

***

On the other end of the line, Hattie’s face lit up as she heard Yuen’s invitation. For the moment, she managed to suppress the urge to whoop and cheer out of deference to the still-working Cait. “Nononono, no problem. We’ll be there right away, Detective,” she said, struggling to contain her excitement as she ended the call.

It took her a few seconds before she was able to produce words, since all that was coming out of her mouth were muffled joyful squeaks. “…Cait?”

“Gimme a sec.” Cait replied, holding up a finger.

Hattie paused, her smile falling slightly.

“Cait.” she repeated, her tone becoming normal.

“Wait, I’m almost done.” Cait said, focused on their computer’s monitor.

“Cait!” Hattie repeated for a third time, her voice rising slightly as she grew irked by their dismissal.

“I said wait, Hattie.” Cait said, still not turning around. “…’Make sure to provide footnotes along with citations’? Aw, what the hell’s the point of that?” they muttered to themself as they reviewed their essay.

Hattie scowled darkly, thoroughly annoyed at the brush-off. After a moment, she tiptoed up next to her teammate’s shoulder and leaned in towards their ear as close as possible.

“CAAAAAAAAAAAIT!” she screamed.

“AUUUUUUUGH!” Cait screeched, jumping up from their seat in shock as they spun around to face her. Their brow contorted, startled and frustrated at the girl’s outburst.

“WHAT?!” they snapped.

Hattie’s expression morphed into a tooth-bared cheshire grin, her attempt at emulating Cait’s own habit.

“I know what we’re gonna do tonight~♪.”

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